Table of Contents JOURNEYS IN CHURCH HISTORY ESSAYS: An Accidental Scholar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Averil Cameron 1 Historian with a Double Major: The Church and Feminism . . . . . . . Asunción Lavrin 461 ARTICLES: Who Wrote the Lives of the Popes? Permutations of a Renaissance Myth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Stefan Bauer 28 Pére Merklen’s War: Editing France’s Catholic Newspaper during the Dark Years . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Richard Francis Crane 50 A Marxist Catholic in Cold War America: Grace Holmes Carlson and the Catholic Left Reconsidered . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Donna T. Haverty-Stacke 78 Festival Threads: Khipu Calendars and Mercedarian Missions in Rapaz, Peru (c. 1565–1825) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sabine Hyland 119 Saint Bernardino of Siena and Art: Preaching and Baptism in Tuscany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby 165 Galileo Between Jesuits: The Fault Is in the Stars . . . . . . . . . . . Christopher M. Graney 191 Anticommunism and Détente: Cardinal Mindszenty in the USA, 1973/74 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Arpad von Klimo 226 Mobility and Identity: Christianity and the Making of Local Society in Northeast China, 1840–1945 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ji Li 253 Assassinations, Mercenaries, and Alfonso V of Aragon as Crusader King in the Thought of Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . John-Paul Heil 325 The Effectiveness of an Anonymous Pen: The Experience of the Jesuit Polemicist Francesco Antonio Zaccaria . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Simona Negruzzo 349 Funding the Mission: Jesuit Networks, Outsider Access, and “The Origins of Marquette College” Revisited . . . . . . . . . . . . H. Richard Friman 363 An Investigation into the Histoire de la mission de Pékin, 1924–1932 . . . Hsin-fang Wu 393 Cathar “Time-Focused Dualism”—An Argument for the Eastern Origins of Catharism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Piotr Czarnecki 482 The Crusading Indulgence and the Revolt of the Comunidades of Castile (1520–1521): Ecclesiastical Reform and Local Religious Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Claudio César Rizzuto 503-27 From the Dove to the Eagle: Jansenist Visual Culture Between Piety and Polemic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Richard T. Yoder 528 An Anti-Catholic Georgian Theological Treatise (Eighteenth Century) in the Context of Georgian-European Relations . . . . . . . . . . David Tinikashvili 561 Brownson, Politics, and a Social Gospel during a Presidential Election . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Patrick Carey 585 FORUM REVIEW ESSAYS: Leslie Tentler’s American Catholics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Kathleen Holscher, Philip Gleason, Robert Trisco, Joseph White, Paula Kane, and Leslie Tentler 277 iii Erin Kathleen Rowe’s Black Saints in Early Modern Global Catholicism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Liam Matthew Brockey, Giovanna Fiume, Karin Vélez, Lisa Voigt, and Erin Kathleen Rowe 605 REVIEW ESSAY: Galileo, a Model of Rational Thinking? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Christopher Graney 421 BOOK REVIEWS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148, 292, 430, 618 REPORT OF THE EDITOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155 NOTES AND COMMENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157, 296, 436, 640 PERIODICAL LITERATURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305, 446, 648 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319, 455, 657 iv General Index Volume 107 (2021) biog. b.n. men. obit. rev. Abbreviations: biography brief notice mentioned obituary review Acerbi, Antonio men., 491 Achim, Irina men., 438 Action française movement men., 57-59, 67, 74 Acuña, Antonio de, Bishop men., 513-14 Adams, John Quincy men., 598 Adams, Sr. Maria Theotokos, S.S.V.M. Rev. of M. J. Hollerich, 430-32 Adriányi, Gabriel men., 302 Adrien of Utrecht men., 512-13, 524 African American Catholic history men., 157, 283, 287, 296-97, 436 Agapitus II, Pope men., 37 Agathias men., 4-6, 10 Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen To sponsor course on diplomatics of medieval papal charters, 299-300 Alan of Lille men., 487, 494, 500 Albert the Great, Saint men., 198, 209 Alden, Dauril men., 364 Alexander II, Pope men., 43 Alexander V, Pope men., 133 Alfonso de Liguori, Saint men., 358 Alfonso V, King of Aragon and Naples men., 325-48 Al Kalak, Matteo men., 301 Almirante of Castile men., 514, 518, 525 American Catholic Historical Association (ACHA) Announces Helen and Howard R. Marraro Prize, 160 Announces John Gilmary Shea Prize, 159-60 Announces John Tracy Ellis Award, 158-59 Announces Nelson H. Minnich Prize, 161-62 Announces Peter Guilday Prize, 160-61 Invites submissions for annual meeting, 157-58 Invites submissions for 2023 annual meeting, 640-41 Invites submissions for Spring Meeting at University of Scranton, 640 Launches Davis Prize with Cushwa Center, 296-97 Plans for New Orleans meeting, 436 Seeking to establish Christopher J. Kauffman Prize in U.S. Catholic History, 436 American Catholic Left men., 78-118 American culture wars men., 251 American Historical Association (AHA) Announces Helen and Howard R. Marraro Prize, 160 Joint panels with ACHA, 157 men., 157-58, 464, 467, 481, 640-41 American Revolution men., 589-90 v vi GENERAL INDEX Anastasius Bibliothecarius men., 28-49 Anderledy, Anthony, S.J. men., 387-89 Anderson, Perry men., 9 Andreas Contrarius men., 326 Andrien, Kenneth J. men., 128, 133-34 Angevins men., 326, 331-32, 341, 346 Annales Historiae Conciliorum—Journal for the History of Councils Publishes third part of “Beiträge der Internationalen Tagung zur Konziliengeschichte ‘Konzil und Minderheit—I Concili e le Minoranze,’” 301-02 Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum men., 301-02 Anonymous literature men., 349-62 Anscombe, Elizabeth men., 3 Anselmo, Claudio men., 302 anti-Black racism men., 610, 617 anticlericalism men., 504-05 anticommunism men., 226-52 anti-Jesuit sentiment men., 393-420, 532, 537, 551-52, 556, 560 anti-liberalism men., 226-52 Antisemitism, Catholic men., 55-56, 58-59, 72-75, 231 anti-war movement men., 79-82, 109, 112-13 Anton I, Catholicos of Georgia men., 566, 579-80 Antonio da Noto, Saint men., 605, 609, 611 apologetics men., 349-62 Arac, Katelyn men., 302 Aram Society for Syro-Mesopotamian Studies To hold conference session on Melkite Christianity, Byzantine Archaeology, 162 archaeology men., 10-11, 26, 162 Archer, Ian men., 22 Arenales, Juan Antonio Alvarez de, General men., 124 Aristotle men., 3, 425, 573 Armenian Apostolic Church men., 562, 569-70, 572 Armenians in Georgia men., 562, 580-81 Arnaldi, Girolamo men., 28-49 Arnauld, Angélique men., 529 Arroniz, Manuel, O.M. men., 129, 131-34 art history men., 165-90 asceticism men., 17-18 Asensio, Eugenio men., 527 Association of Catholic Trade Unionists (ACTU) men., 105 Association of Christians for Church Renewal (ACCR) men., 113-15 Association of St. Xavier men., 371-72 Assumptionists men., 50, 56-57, 62, 68 astronomy men., 191-225, 421-29 Atienza, Blas de men., 135 Attardi, Bonaventura men., 355 Augustine of Hippo, Saint men., 7, 23, 299, 441, 487, 493, 496, 500-01, 529-30, 539 Augustinians men., 40, 135-36, 170, 355, 439, 478 GENERAL INDEX Aurora University, Shanghai men., 401 Avedian, Sherly men., 438 Ayroulet, Élie men., 438 Babeș-Bolyai University To hold workshop, 437 Bácskai, Béla H. men., 244 Balogh, Balázs men., 233, 236 Balogh, Margit men., 240-41, 245, 247 Balogh, Máté Gergely men., 237 Baltazar, the Black magus men., 605 Bancroft Library, Berkeley men., 463 Bancroft, George men., 598 Banner system men., 257-59, 269, 271 baptism men., 34-35, 108, 128, 142, 165-90, 241, 264-66, 577 Barbieri, Camillo men., 357 Bardetti, Stanislao men., 357 Baretti, Giuseppe men., 358-59 Barnes, Andrew E. Global Christianity and the Black Atlantic: Tuskegee, Colonialism, and the Shaping of African Industrial Education, rev., 148-49 Barnes, Timothy men., 14, 23 Baronio, Cesare men., 30, 41, 45, 47 Barr, Colin men., 303 Barrio Gozalo, Maximiliano men., 521-22 Barrow, Julia men., 439 Basil I, Byzantine Emperor men., 492 vii Baslez, Marie-Françoise men., 438 Bataillon, Marcel men., 505 Bauer, Stefan Who Wrote the Lives of the Popes? Permutations of a Renaissance Myth, 28-49 Baxandall, Michael men., 173 Beaucé, Eugene A. men., 410 Beaumont, Christophe de, Archbishop men., 550, 552 Beccadelli, Antonio “Panormita” men., 326, 332 Beccaria, Cesare men., 349 Becker, Julia men., 439 Beckx, Peter, S.J. men., 390 Bedini, [Gaetano], Archbishop men., 280 Béky, Zoltán men., 245 Belgrade, Siege of men., 343 Belgrado, Jacopo men., 357 Beltrame Quattrocchi, Bl. Luigi and Maria men., 641 Beltrame Quattrocchi, Enrica Pope Francis declares “Servant of God,” 641 Benedict of Palermo, Saint men., 605-07, 609-10, 615-16 Benedict XIII, Pope men., 133 Benedict XIV, Pope men., 132 Benedict XV, Pope men., 400 Benedictines men., 32, 44-45, 106-07, 296, 415 Benito Rodríguez, José Antonio men., 506, 508-09, 511, 520 Bennison, Sarah men., 126-27, 137 viii GENERAL INDEX Bentley, Elizabeth men., 97-98 Bentley, Jerry H. men., 327, 335-36 Berdzenishvili, Niko men., 566, 573 Bériou, Nicole men., 504, 622 Berman, Constance Hoffman The White Nuns: Cistercian Abbeys for Women in Medieval France, rev., 620-21 Bernard of Clairvaux men., 489 Bernard of Fontcaude men., 495 Bernard Raimund, Cathar bishop men., 494 Bernardino of Siena, Saint men., 165-90 Bernardino, Angelo de men., 438 Bernay, Sylvie men., 53, 59 Berrigan, Daniel and Philip men., 78-79, 81-82, 102, 110-13, 115 Bessières, Albert men., 60 Biget, Jean-Louis men., 485, 487, 497, 523 Biglia, Andrea men., 170 Biller, Peter men., 488, 497 Biondo Flavio men., 29, 34-35, 37-39, 44, 326, 345 Bioui, Bruno men., 438 birth control men., 238, 278, 286, 289 Bishop, George men., 369, 374 Black Catholic experience men., 296-97 Black sanctity men., 605-17 Blackwell, Richard J. men., 216 Blair, Ann men., 205 Blanchard, Shaun men., 528, 558 Blevins, Cameron men., 302 Blied, Benjamin J. men., 364, 371 Boeglin, Michel men., 505, 511 Bogomil church of Bulgaria men., 483, 489, 490, 493, 496 Bogomil church of Drugunthia men., 482-502 Bokenkotter, Thomas Stephen obit., 440-42 Bollandist Society men., 356 Bolzoni, Lina men., 173 Bonazza, Giulia men., 299 Bonhoeffer, Dietrich men., 299 Bonner, Jeremy men., 102, 105-06, 108, 114 Bontoux, Françoise men., 533 Borst, Arno men., 486 Boston College men., 643-44 Bouchard, Faustine-Marie men., 439 Bowman, Hayley Receives award for “Religion, women, art, place/space in the early Spanish world,” 162 Boxer Uprising men., 254, 263-64, 267-68, 271, 397 Boyer, Joseph men., 262 Bozoky, Edina men., 486, 491 Bracceschi men., 334-35 Brahe, Tycho men., 191-225, 426 Breitenbucher, Robert men., 113-15 GENERAL INDEX Brennan, Sean The Priest Who Put Europe Back Together: The Life of Father Fabian Flynn, CP, rev., 635-36 Brennan, Sister Rita Clare men., 98-99, 115 Brenon, Anne men., 484, 487 Brezhnev, Leon men., 230 Brezine, Carrie J. men., 123-24, 144 Brian, Isabelle men., 439 Brockey, Liam Matthew, Giovanna Fiume, Karin Vélez, Lisa Voigt, and Erin Kathleen Rowe Erin Kathleen Rowe’s Black Saints in Early Modern Global Catholicism, Forum Review Essay, 605-17 Brodie, Thomas German Catholicism at War, 1939-1945, rev., 149-52 Brokaw, Galen men., 120 Brown University men., 589 Brown, Peter men., 5, 6, 9, 16-17, 19, 21, 27 Browning, Robert (historian) men., 4 Brownson, Henry men., 585, 593, 599 Brownson, Orestes A. men., 280 Brownson, Orestes A. men., 585-604 Brubaker, Leslie men., 12, 24 Brumbach, David M. men., 364, 366, 368-71, 376 Bruni, Leonardi men., 29-30 Brunn, Uwe men., 496-97 Brunner, Joseph, S.J. men., 382, 387-89 Bruno, Giordano men., 191, 196, 214-15, 223-24 Bryer, Anthony men., 19 Buckley, James L. men., 241-42 Buckley, William F., Jr, men., 241, 295 Budenz, Louis men., 97-98 Bula de Cruzada men., 503-27 Buongiuochi, Giovanni men., 357 Burgio, Francesco, S.J. men., 353, 355 Burrin, Philippe men., 61 Busaeus (de Buys), Johannes men., 45-47 Bushnell, Horace men., 604 Byzantine Studies men., 1-27, 162 Cabrini, Mother Frances Xavier men., 277, 283 Cadegan, Una M. men., 159-60 Callixtus III, Pope men., 325-48 Calvinists men., 245, 247, 252, 529, 556, 629 Cameron, Alan men., 3-5, 7-8, 14-15 Cameron, Averil An Accidental Scholar, Journeys in Church History Essay, 1-27 Cameron, James Munro men., 230 Canadian Catholic history men., 302-03 Cannon, James men., 86, 90, 92-93 Canons Regular men., 439 capitalism men., 78-79, 82, 85, 88, 104-05, 112, 115-16, 118 Caponi, Matteo men., 299 Carandini, Andrea men., 10 ix x GENERAL INDEX Cardinal Mindszenty Foundation (CMF) men., 230, 234-35, 237, 251 Carey, Mathew men., 599 Carey, Patrick Brownson, Politics, and a Social Gospel during a Presidential Election, 585-604 Carey, Patrick men., 277 Carlson, Grace Holmes men., 78-118 Carmelites men., 292-93 Carriker, Robert C. men., 369-70, 374-76 Carroll, John men., 279, 281 Carthage men., 10-11, 71 Casanova, José men., 287, 365 Cassini, Jacques men., 223-24 Castelli, Benedetto men., 210-11 Castiglione, Giovanni men., 360 Catalán Martínez, Elena men., 504 Catharism men., 482-502 Council of Saint-Felix, men., 483-84, 486 Catholic Action men., 52, 70, 101-02, 105-06 Catholic Church Extension Society men., 282 Catholic Education men., 349-62 Catholic Historical Research Center Announces opening/mask policy, 642 Catholic Historical Review men., 23, 160-61, 219, 293-94, 282, 436-37, 465 Catholic identity, Manchurian settlements men., 253-76 Catholic Interracial Council (CIC) men., 114-15 Catholic Marxism men., 78-118 Catholic missions and calendar systems, men., 119-47 Manchuria Mission, men., 253-76 China mission, men., 393-420 Missions in the East, men., 561-84 Catholic Reformation men., 277, 441 Catholic Relief Services (CRS) men., 635-36 Catholic University of Peking men., 414-15 Catholic Worker movement men., 79-80, 106-07, 117, 286, 442 Catonsville Nine men., 79-81, 110-12 Catrou, François men., 351 Cattaneo, Enrico men., 184 Caubrière, Alfred Marie men., 253-55, 262-65, 267-68, 271-74 Ceausescu, Nicolae men., 238 censorship men., 62-68, 70, 72-74, 76, 287, 349-62 Chacón, Alfonso men., 45 Chalamet, Christophe men., 299 Chalcedon, Council of men., 12, 441 Chamedes, Giuliana Receives 2020 Helen and Howard R. Marraro Prize for A TwentiethCentury Crusade: The Vatican’s Battle to Remake Christian Europe, 160 Channing, William Ellery men., 598-99 Chardin, John men., 562 Charles I of Spain (Emperor Charles V) men., 503, 505, 515, 519 Charles III, Emperor men., 34-35 Charles VI, Emperor men., 566 Charles of Bourbon men., 358-59 Charles, John men., 120, 136 GENERAL INDEX Charlier, Philippe men., 438 Chaunu, Pierre men., 529, 537, 550 Chiang Kai-shek men., 414 Chiffoleau, Jacques men., 485, 497, 504, 523 China, Japanese occupation of men., 255, 269, 272-74, 419 Chinese Catholicism men., 152-54, 253-76, 393-420 Chinese Rites Controversy men., 394-98, 400, 403-04, 406, 419 Chiu, Hilbert men., 487 Chometon, Eugène men., 272 Choudhury, Mita men., 530, 552 Christian Hebraism men., 628-30 Christian, William, Jr. men., 521 Christianity, and Roman Empire men., 15-16 CIA men., 236, 240 Cimino, Carla men., 302 Cisneros, Francisco Jiménez de, Cardinal men., 517 Cistercians men., 620-21 citizenship, medieval communes men., 165-90 civil rights movement men., 79-81, 107-09, 115 Civil War (U.S.) men., 278-79, 282-83, 287 Clark, Elizabeth men., 16-17, 22-24, 27 Clavero, Bartolomé men., 504 Clavius, Christopher, S.J. men., 217 Clay, Henry men., 598 Clement XI, Pope men., 528, 541, 572 Clement XIII, Pope men., 359 Clément, Jean-Louis men., 52-53 clerical sex-abuse crisis men., 279-80, 286 Clossey, Luke men., 364 Coburn, Carol K. and Martha Smith men., 84 Cochin, Charles-Nicolas men., 548 Cochrane, Eric men., 29-30 Codignola, Luca men., 302 Cointet, Michèle men., 53, 60 Cold War men., 78-118, 226-52 collaboration men., 50-77 Colonial Latin America men., 461-81 colonialism men., 148-49 Colton, Calvin men., 598 Communist League of America, Left Opposition (CLA) men., 85-87, 92 Communist Party [in America] (CPUSA) men., 85, 88, 97-98 Comnena, Anna men., 486 computus, and Andean khipus men., 119-47 Comte, Bernard men., 55-56 Concina, Daniele men., 353, 357 confession men., 522-23 confraternities men., 606-08, 612-15 Conley, John J. men., 530 Connelly, John men., 55 xi xii GENERAL INDEX Connolly, Mary Beth Fraser men., 102, 105 Cono Sur nations men., 469-70 Constable, Giles obit., 303-04 Constantine, Emperor men., 14-16, 444 Constantinople, Fall of men., 325, 330, 334, 340, 345 Convents, Latin America men., 461-81 free will vs. obedience in conventual life, men., 476 conversos men., 524, 527 convulsionnaires men., 536, 540, 542-43, 548 Cooke, Terence, Cardinal men., 245 Copernicus, Nicolas men., 191-225, 421, 427-28 Coppa, Frank John obit., 163-64 Copsey, Richard, O. Carm. Biographical Register of Carmelites in England and Wales, 1240–1540, rev., 292-93 Corbel, Jean men., 254 Corippus men., 8, 10-11 Cormack, Margaret Rev. of S. E. Grønlie, 618-20 Corrin, Jay P. men., 82, 116-17 Cort, John C. men., 277, 281, 283 Cortese, Fr. Placido Pope Francis advances sainthood cause, 641 Costantini, Celso men., 393-420 Cottret, Monique men., 529, 534, 536-38 Council of Embrun men., 533, 536, 539 Council of Ferrara-Florence men., 568 Council of Jassy men., 582 Council of Trent men., 183-84, 441, 520, 523-24, 526-27 Couturier, Edith men., 466, 481 Coward, David men., 535-37 Cowley, Leonard men., 91-93, 95-96, 98, 115 Coyne, George V., S.J. men., 216-18, 427 Crabbe, Petrus men., 42 Crabeels, Guillaume men., 370 Crane, Philip M. men., 241-42 Crane, Richard Francis Pére Merklen’s War: Editing France’s Catholic Newspaper during the Dark Years, 50-77 Cremonini, Cesare men., 425-26 Cristellon, Cecilia men., 299 Crollalanza, Giuseppe Ignazio men., 357 Crowley, Patricia Caron men., 277, 281, 283 crusade, fifteenth century men., 325-48 Crusading Indulgence men., 503-27 Cummings, Kathleen Sprows men., 296-97 Curatola, Marco men., 127 Cushwa Center, the University of Notre Dame Launches Davis Prize with ACHA, 296-97 men., 83, 282 Cussen, Celia men., 616 Czarnecki, Piotr Cathar “Time-Focused Dualism”—An Argument for the Eastern Origins of Catharism, 482-502 Dagron, Gilbert men., 15, 18 GENERAL INDEX Damasus I, Pope men., 34, 38-40, 42-43, 45, 47, 338 Damiens Affair men., 551-52, 556, 558, 560 Dark Years of Occupation men., 50-77 Darlan, François, Admiral men., 63 David, King men., 188-89 Davis, Father Cyprian, O.S.B. men., 296-97 Davis, Natalie Zemon men., 25 Davit Gareja Monastery, Georgia men., 566-69, 572-73, 578 D’Avray, David men., 488, 623 Day, Dorothy men., 78-82, 84, 91, 102, 106-07, 11011, 113, 117, 442 De Auxiliis controversy men., 529, 539, 557 Debby, Nirit Ben-Aryeh Saint Bernardino of Siena and Art: Preaching and Baptism in Tuscany, 165-90 Debeauvais, Jean-Baptiste men., 404-05 De Boey, Guillaume-Joseph men., 363-92 Debut, Ambrose men., 439 Deeds, Susan men., 467 de Gaulle, Charles men., 59, 65, 76 deism men., 595-96 Delaplace, Louis-Gabriel men., 397 Delcorno, Carlo men., 166, 169, 172, 175-76, 178-79 Delcorno, Pietro men., 173 Delle Donne, Fulvio men., 328 De Lubac, Henri men., 54, 74 xiii De Luca, Giovanni men., 354-55 Delumeau, Jean men., 522, 523, 529 De Maeyer, Jan men., 364 Demontis, Luca men., 301 De Nef, Pierre Jean men., 368, 370-71, 374 Dengl, Miklos men., 243 Denny, Christopher D. men., 102, 105 Department of Lay Organizations men., 284 De Romanis, Federico men., 438 De Smet, Pierre-Jean, S.J. men., 364, 366, 368-71, 374-76, 382-84 Desrumaux, François-Xavier men., 404, 407, 411-12 détente men., 226-52 Deutsche Historische Institut Paris (DHIP) To sponsor course on diplomatics of medieval papal charters, 299-300 Diekmann, Godfrey, OSB men., 107-108 Diet of Wiener-Neustadt men., 331 Dietrich of Niem men., 43 Diets of Regensburg and Frankfurt (1454) men., 331, 345 Divini Redemptoris men., 104 Dixon, Carl Stephen men., 492-93 Dobbs, Farrell men., 86, 90 Dognini, Cristiano men., 438 Dolan, Jay P. men., 277, 279, 282, 287 Domenico, Roy Obit. of F. J. Coppa, 163-64 Domenti, Catholicos-Patriarch men., 565-66 xiv GENERAL INDEX Dominicans men., 45, 115-16, 128, 135-36, 185, 292, 353, 478, 509, 541, 623-25 Dominici, Giovanni men., 185 Donatello men., 165-67, 185-88 Dondaine, Antoine men., 483-84, 486, 489-90, 497 Dossat, Yves men., 485 draft board actions men., 79-80, 110, 112 Drakopoulos, Theofanis men., 486 Drapac, Vesna men., 52 Dreyfus Affair men., 58 Druyts, John B., S.J. men., 390 Duara, Prasenjit men., 256-57 DuBois, Thomas men., 256, 272-73 DuBourg, Louis, Bishop men., 367-69 Duchesne, Louis men., 31-35, 37, 39, 42, 44-45, 48 Duguet, Jacques Joseph men., 533, 550 Dumbarton Oaks men., 6, 13, 15-16, 25, 27, 303 Duquesne, Jacques men., 53, 60 Durand of Huesca men., 489-90, 497-502 Duvernoy, Jean men., 488, 500 Eagleton, Terry men., 116 Eastern Churches men., 284 Ebrardus Bethuniensis men., 488, 495 Eckbert of Schönau men., 482, 494, 496 Edwards, Don men., 251 Edwards, John men., 515, 525-27 Edwards, Mark Thomas Rev. of N. T. Pruitt, 633-34 Efigenia, Saint men., 605-06, 609, 612 Egan, Keith J. Rev. of R. Copsey, 292-93 Eichbauer, Melodie H. Rev. of G. Melville, 622-23 Eire, Carlos M. N. men., 505, 507, 526 Eisenstein, Elizabeth L. men., 535, 537 Election of 1840 men., 585-604 Elesban, Saint men., 605-06, 612 Elet, John Anthony, S.J. men., 366, 375-76, 378, 381-84, 386-90 Elizabeth Ann Seton, Mother and Saint men., 280, 286 Elizabeth I, Queen men., 630-31 Emerson, Ralph Waldo men., 586, 600 Endres, David J. Obit. of T. S. Bokenkotter, 440-42 England, John, Bishop men., 280-81, 283, 288 English Revolution men., 632-33 Enlightenment men., 285, 350 Entablo men., 126-27, 137 Equal Rights Amendment men., 234 Erasmus men., 444, 505, 519, 524 Erben, Patrick M. men., 302 Erekle II of Georgia men., 578, 580-81 Ermengaudus men., 488-89 Esherick, Joseph men., 256, 267 Estense Library, Modena men., 356-57 GENERAL INDEX Etienne de Bourbon men., 488, 491 Étienne, Jean-Baptiste men., 404 Études d’histoire religieuse Publishes articles on Canadian Catholic history, 303 Eugenius IV, Pope men., 43, 347 European Academy of Religion To hold annual conference, 300-01 European-Georgian interrelations men., 561-84 Eusebius of Caesarea men., 7, 14-16, 430-32 Evervinus Steinfeldensis men., 489 Eyerly, Sarah men., 302 Eymerich, Nicholas men., 624-28 Fabrègues, Joseph-Sylvain-Marius men., 407-08, 411-12 Fabri, Honoré, S.J. men., 218 Facio, Bartolomeo men., 325, 328-29, 341 Faggioli, Massimo men., 159-60 Falkeid, Unn To offer seminar “Prophecies on the Threshold of Modernity: The Case of Birgitta of Sweden,” 643 Fall of Constantinople men., 325, 330, 334, 340, 345 Farge, Arlette men., 531, 534, 537, 543, 545, 551 Farina, John men., 158-59 Farnese, Alessandro, Cardinal men., 40 Fascia, Jacques-André men., 412 Fattori, Maria Teresa men., 299 FBI men., 92, 96-99, 111 Federighi, Antonio men., 186 xv Felix V, anti-pope [antipope] men., 330 feminism men., 461-81 Fengtian Prefecture men., 260-61, 271-72 Ferrante, Elena men., 349 Fifth Lateran Council men., 518 Figueras, Joan Molina men., 332 figurism men., 530-31, 544 Final Solution, France men., 51-52, 72-75 financial panic of 1837 men., 586, 593 Finocchiaro, Maurice A. men., 207, 215-19 On Trial for Reason: Science, Religion, and Culture in the Galileo Affair, rev., 42129 First Opium War men., 267 First Plenary Council, Shanghai men., 394, 400-01, 415 Fisher, James men., 277 Fiume, Giovanna Rev. of E. K. Rowe, Forum Essay, 61013 Flaherty, Peter F. men., 249 Flamsteed, John men., 221-23 Flandin, Pierre-Étienne men., 63 Flandrois, Isabelle men., 534 Fleury [André-Hercule de], Cardinal men., 536, 543, 548 Fleury, Alain men., 57-58 Flynn, Fabian, CP biog., 635-36 Fogarty, Gerald, S.J. men., 252 Foisil, Madeleine men., 529, 534, 537, 550 xvi GENERAL INDEX Fondazione per le scienze religiose, Bologna To hold conference on “Righteousness in Early Modern Christianity: Voices, Fruits, and Failures,” 301 To sponsor seminar on “Stigma, Discrimination, Birth, ‘Racism,’ and Their Dis/Connection with the Christian Experience,” 299 To sponsor seminar on “Medieval Penitentials and the Law, Theology, and Practice of Penance,” 299 Fontaine de la Roche, Jean men., 536 fonts (baptismal) men., 165-90 Foot, Philippa men., 3 Forschungsstelle für Vergleichende Ordensgeschichte an der Universität Dresden To sponsor conference on “Konzilien und die Welt der Klöster,” 437 Foster, Elizabeth Receives 2020 John Gilmary Shea Prize for African Catholic: Decolonization and the Transformation of the Church, 159-60 Foucault, Michel men., 11, 13, 17 Foucault Pendulum men., 217 Fouilloux, Étienne men., 53, 55, 59 Foulon, Jean-Hervé men., 439 Fourquet, Antoine-Pierre-Jean men., 413, 417 Fourth Lateran Council men., 522, 622-23 Fraenkel, Eduard men., 3 France men., 50-77, 528-60 Francesco III, Duke of Modena men., 357 Franchina, Miriam men., 299 Francis I, King of France men., 350 Francis, Pope men., 279 Franciscans men., 42, 134-35, 165-90, 242-44, 251, 260, 277, 292, 396-97, 478, 520, 605, 607, 611-12, 623, 625, 641 Francisco de los Ángeles men., 520 Franckeville, Charles, S.J. men., 366-67, 372-74, 380-81, 384, 388-90 François de Pâris men., 536, 540, 548 Frederick III, Emperor men., 325-48 Freeman, Arthur and Janet Ing Freeman Courtship, Slander, and Treason: Studies of Mary Queen of Scots, the Fourth Duke of Norfolk, and a Few of Their Contemporaries, 1568–1587, rev., 630-31 French Catholic Church (during WWII) men., 50-77 French Enlightenment men., 350, 534-35, 537-38, 582 French Religious Protectorate men., 264, 393-420 Friman, H. Richard Funding the Mission: Jesuit Networks, Outsider Access, and “The Origins of Marquette College” Revisited, 363-92 Fromont, Cécile men., 614 Fuller, Margaret men., 600 Furtado, Junia [Júnia] Ferreira men., 614 Füzér, Julián men., 233, 243, 245 Gabardi, Gioacchino men., 357 Gabashvili, Zakaria men., 579-80 Galban, Clemens men., 439 Galileo Commission (1980s) men., 216, 427 Galileo Galilei men., 191-225, 421-29 Gallicanism men., 529, 531, 543, 552, 556, 559 Garampi, Giuseppe men., 356 GENERAL INDEX Garibi y Rivera, José, Cardinal men., 463-64 Garnier, Jean-Baptiste-Henri men., 416-19 Garraghan, Gilbert J., S.J. men., 363-92 Gaudium et Spes men., 108 Geertz, Clifford men., 13 Geiger, Maynard, O.F.M. men., 281 Gelardini, Gabriella men., 299 Genova, James E. Rev. of A. E. Barnes, 148-49 George Scholarius (later Gennadius) men., 568 Georgia (nation), history of and anti-Catholic literature, men., 56184 Georgian-Armenian schism, men., 570 Georgian National Centre of Manuscripts, men., 577 Gerlier, Pierre-Marie, Cardinal men., 68, 70 German Historical Institute of Paris Announces project “Édition de la correspondance française des actes de la paix de Westphalie,” 440 Gesellschaft für Konziliengeschichte To sponsor conference on “Konzilien und die Welt der Klöster,” 437 Gessner, Conrad men., 40 Ghiberti, Lorenzo men., 165-67, 181, 185-88 Giannini, Massimo Carlo men., 299 Gibbons, [James], Cardinal men., 286 Gilbert Génébrard men., 45 Gilbert, Creighton E. men., 169, 175-76 Giménez Fernández, Manuel men., 522 Gingerich, Owen men., 217 xvii Giorgi XII of Georgia men., 578 Giraud, Marie men., 528, 535 Gleason, Philip men., 294 Rev. of L. Tentler, Forum Essay, 27980 Godfrey the Viking men., 34-35, 37 Goldwater, Barry men., 234, 241 Golsan, Richard J. men., 51 Gómez, Ximena men., 615 Goñi Gaztambide, José men., 506, 509, 515, 524-25 Goodman, Glenda men., 302 Gori, Francesco men., 356 Gospel of John men., 499-500 Gosse, Van men., 82, 109 Gounot, Charles-Albert men., 71-72 Gouzi, Christine men., 531-35, 537-40, 545, 547-49, 551-53, 557, 560 Grafton, Anthony men., 5, 29, 121, 432 Granada War men., 508-09, 513 Granelli, Giovanni men., 359 Graney, Christopher M. Galileo Between Jesuits: The Fault Is in the Stars, 191-225 Galileo, a Model of Rational Thinking?, 421-29 Rev. of A. Loeb, 421-29 Rev. of M. A. Finocchiaro, 421-29 Rev. of M. Livio, 421-29 Rev. of T. Screech, 421-29 Great Depression men., 85 Greco, Alessandra men., 486 xviii GENERAL INDEX Greek Catholics men., 284 Greek Orthodoxy men., 561-62, 568, 576 Greeley, Horace men., 598 Grégoire, Henri men., 559 Gregorovius, Ferdinand men., 28-29, 32, 48 Gregory I, Pope men., 171, 299 Gregory VII, Pope men., 43 Gregory X, Pope men., 623 Gregory XVI, Pope men., 255, 366, 378, 410 Gregory, Eilish Catholics during the English Revolution, 1642–1660: Politics, Sequestration and Loyalty, rev., 632-33 Gres-Gayer, Jacques men., 528-29 Gribble, Richard, C.S.C. Rev. of S. Brennan, 635-36 Grohe, Johannes men., 301 Grønlie, Siân E. The Saint and the Saga Hero. Hagiography and Early Icelandic Literature, rev., 618-20 Guéhenno, Jean men., 50 Guelfs and Ghibellines men., 181, 183-84 Gui, Bernard men., 489, 624-28 Guijarro González, Susanna men., 302 Guilday, Peter men., 160, 281 Guittienne-Mürger, Valérie men., 529, 534 Gunther, Karl Rev. of C. Law, 434-35 Guy, Donna men., 467 Hadrian I, Pope men., 34 Hadrian II, Pope men., 43-44, 46-47 Haley’s Comet men., 343 Hall, Simon men., 109 Hall, Stuart G. men., 14 Halls, Wilfred D. men., 54-55, 59, 71 Hamilton, Bernard men., 482-86, 491-93, 502 Hamilton, Janet men., 483, 486, 492-93 Hamilton, Raphael N. men., 364 Hammond, George men., 463 Hankins, James men., 325, 333, 336, 343 Harangozó, Ferenc men., 243 Harding, Thomas men., 44 Harmon, Katherine E. men., 106 Harrer, Kilian Receives 2020 Nelson H. Minnich Prize for “The Keys of Heaven in the Hands of Women: History, Hierarchy, and Gender in Early Modern Catholicism,” 161-62 Harrington, Michael men., 603 Harrison, Henrietta men., 256 Harrison, William Henry men., 586-87 Hartke, Vance, Senator men., 239 Hartmann, Florian men., 439 Haverty-Stacke, Donna T. A Marxist Catholic in Cold War America: Grace Holmes Carlson and the Catholic Left Reconsidered, 78-118 Hebei province men., 253, 257, 260 Hecker, Isaac T. men., 280 GENERAL INDEX Heil, John-Paul Assassinations, Mercenaries, and Alfonso V of Aragon as Crusader King in the Thought of Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini, 325-48 heliocentric theory men., 421-29 Henderson, Isobel men., 3-4 Hennesey, James men., 279 Henni, John Martin men., 363-92 Hernández, Melchior men., 135 Herrin, Judith men., 14-15 Herschel, John F. W. men., 205 Herzog, Jonathan P. men., 227, 235 Hessels, Paul, S.J. men., 380-81, 384-86, 388-89 Hevelius, Johannes men., 223 Hickey, Edward John men., 364, 371 Hildebrand, Dietrich von men., 247 Hill, Derek Inquisition in the Fourteenth Century: The Manuals of Bernard Gui and Nicholas Eymerich. [Heresy and Inquisition in the Middle Ages, 7], rev., 624-28 Hill, John men., 224 Hispanic American Historical Review men., 464, 466 Hiss, Alger men., 98 Historical Studies Publishes articles on Canadian Catholic history, 302-03 historiography ecclesiastical, men., 28-49, 430-32 humanist, men., 28-49, 325-48 of early Church, men., 437-38 of papacy, men., 28-49 of WWII in France, men., 50-77 xix history of sexuality men., 467, 476 history, relation to theology men., 23-24 Hitchcock, James men., 80-81 Hitler, Adolph men., 61, 63, 69, 74, 150, 242 Hitler Youth men., 71 Hogan, John men., 81 Hollerich, Michael J. Making Christian History: Eusebius of Caesarea and His Readers. [Christianity in Late Antiquity, 11], rev., 430-32 Holocaust men., 50, 53, 77, 164, 232 Holscher, Kathleen, Philip Gleason, Robert Trisco, Joseph White, Paula Kane, Leslie Tentler Leslie Tentler’s American Catholics, Forum Review Essay, 277-91 Holt, Michael F. men., 588-89 Holy Crown of St. Stephen men., 237-38 Homza, Lu Ann men., 505, 526-27 Honorius II, Pope men., 32, 43 Honorius III, Pope men., 490 Hooke, Robert men., 220, 223 Hopkins, Keith men., 8-9 Horrocks, Jeremiah men., 223 Horváth, Benedek men., 244 Horváth, Elek men., 249-50 Hotheim, Johann Nikolaus von men., 359 House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) men., 96-97 Hovhannes men., 569-70, 572 xx GENERAL INDEX Howard, Peter men., 169, 173 Hsia, Ronnie Po-chia men., 260, 364, 393, 398 Huang, Philip men., 257 Hubner, Frederick, S.J. men., 382, 387 Hudson, David men., 536, 543, 548 Huey, Ann Receives award for “Life and works of Katherine Burton (1887–1969),” 162 Hufton, Olwen men., 364 Hughes, John, Bishop men., 599 Hughes, Kathleen men., 108 Huguenot men., 537 Hungary, Communist era men., 226-52 1956 revolution, men., 227-28, 233-34 Hungarian Americans, men., 226-52 Hungarian Catholic League, men., 24243 Hungarian National Committee, men., 227, 236 Hunyadi, John men., 332-33, 342 Hunyadi, László men., 342 Hurtubise, Pierre men., 303 Huygens, Christiaan men., 223 Hyland, Sabine Festival Threads: Khipu Calendars and Mercedarian Missions in Rapaz, Peru (c. 1565–1825), 119-47 Hyland, William P. men., 123, 126, 137 Ianziti, Gary men., 29-30, 329 Icelandic sagas men., 618-20 icons men., 12-13, 18 Iese-Mustafa men., 566 Ignatius of Loyola, Saint men., 608 Immaculate Conception of the Virgin men., 352-54 Immaculate Heart of Mary sisters men., 289-90 immigration, and U.S. Catholicism men., 226-52, 278-79, 282-83 Imperial University of Peking men., 401 Inchofer, Melchior, S.J. men., 215-16, 426 indigenization men., 393-420 Indigenous communities men., 642 indulgences men., 507-09 Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) men., 86 Ingoli, Francesco men., 215-16, 223, 426 Inkan culture men., 119-47 Innocent III, Pope men., 622-23 Innocent X, Pope men., 529 Innocent XIII, Pope men., 566 Inquisition men., 207-08, 215, 218, 422, 468, 476, 487 490, 509-11, 523-25, 607, 62428 Institute of Classical Studies men., 5, 8, 17 International Association of Jesuit Universities, meeting of men., 643-44 International Federation of Catholic Universities, meeting of men., 643-44 International Symposium on Jesuit Studies Invites submissions on topic “The Jesuits and the Church in History,” 643-44 Ireland, John, Archbishop men., 84 GENERAL INDEX Islam men., 16, 18, 22, 26, 29, 159, 340, 345, 518, 524, 566, 572, 625 Istituto Maria Sanctissima [Santissima] Bambina in Rome To host conference “Inchiesta sulla Storia dei Primi Secoli della Chiesa,” 437-38 To host conference “I Canonici Regolari dal Medioevo ai Nostri Giorni,” 439 Italian eloquence men., 349-62 Jablonsky, Thomas men., 364, 378, 390 Jackson, [Andrew] men., 585-87 Jackson, Julian men., 63 Jacopo della Quercia men., 165-67, 185-88 James Alexander Robertson Memorial Prize men., 464 Jansen, Cornelius men., 529 Jansen, Katherine Ludwig men., 172, 179 Jansenism men., 352, 358, 528-60 Jarlin, Stanislas-François men., 404-05, 411, 418 Jerez, José Joaquín men., 515-17, 519-20, 522, 524, 526 Jerome, Saint men., 17, 34, 38, 42 Jesuit astronomers, influence of men., 191-225 Jesuits (see Society of Jesus) Jiménez-Sanchez, Pilar men., 487, 500 John Paul II, Pope and Saint men., 216, 231, 252, 286, 427 John the Baptist, Saint men., 167, 181-83, 186-88 John Tzimiskes, Byzantine Emperor men., 486 John VIII, Pope men., 34-35 John XXIII, Pope men., 81, 108, 233, 252, 636-39 xxi Johnson, Lyndon B. men., 239 Johnson, Peter Leo men., 363, 371, 377-79, 382-84, 386-87 Jones, A. H. M. men., 9 Joseph II, Emperor men., 578 Josephites (Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet) men., 84, 98, 100-01, 107 Journeys in Church History men., 1-27, 461-81 Juana Ines de la Cruz, Sor men., 465, 472-73 Juana the Mad [Queen Joanna of Spain] men., 519 Judaism men., 18-19, 22, 25, 50-77, 150, 164, 524 Juncosa Bonet, Eduard men., 302 Justeson, John men., 119 Justin II, Byzantine Emperor men., 5, 8, 10 Justinian, Emperor men., 8, 10-12, 444 Kádár-Lynn, Katalin men., 236 Kádár, János men., 228, 240, 251 Kane, Paula Rev. of L. Tentler, Forum Essay, 285-88 Karbelashvili, Polievktos men., 567, 580 Karman, Andrea men., 235 Karsner, Rose men., 86 Kateri Tekakwitha, Saint men., 302 Kauffman, Christopher J. men., 282, 436 Kauffman, Karen men., 599 Kavtaria, Mikheil men., 567-69, 573, 577-78 Kazhdan, Alexander men., 15 xxii GENERAL INDEX Keble, John men., 21 Kekelidze, Korneli men., 573-74 Kelley, Donald R. men., 29 Kelley, Francis Clement, Bishop men., 282 Kennedy, John F. men., 230, 233, 636-39 Kepler, Johannes men., 191-225, 422, 424 Keuthe, Allan James men., 128, 133 khipus men., 119-47 Kieckhefer, Richard Rev. of D. Hill, 624-28 Killoren, John J. men., 369, 374, 376 Kino, Eusebio, S.J. men., 277, 281, 283 Király, Kelemen, O.F.M. men., 242 Klapisch-Zuber, Christiane men., 178, 181, 184 Klimo, Arpad von Anticommunism and Détente: Cardinal Mindszenty in the USA, 1973/74, 226-52 Knights of Columbus men., 246, 248, 284, 289 Knights of Columbus Release documentary film Enduring Faith, 642 Konikow, Antoinette men., 86 Koppen, Jimmy men., 364 Kosicki, Piotr men., 54 Koziol, Geoffrey Rev. of N. J. Ristuccia, 432-33 Kreiser, B. Robert men., 533, 536-37, 542-43 Kuhrt, Amélie men., 17 labor history men., 82-83, 278, 285, 289 Laborie, Pierre men., 51, 73 “Laboring Classes” men., 585-604 La Croix men., 50-77 Lacroix, Patrick John F. Kennedy and the Politics of Faith. [Studies in US Religion, Politics, and Law], rev., 636-39 Lalande, Jean-Guy Rev. of T. Brodie, 149-52 Lambert, Malcolm men., 484, 486 Lamennais, Félicité de men., 585-604 Lampridio, Antonio, see Muratori men., 352 Laperle, Dominique men., 303 Larson, Atria To lead seminar on “Medieval Penitentials and the Law, Theology, and Practice of Penance,” 299 late antiquity men., 1-27 Latourette, Kenneth men., 395 Laval, Pierre men., 50, 63, 70 Laveille, Eugène men., 368, 376 Lavrin, Asunción Historian with a Double Major: The Church and Feminism, 461-81 Law, Ceri Contested Reformations in the University of Cambridge 1535-1584, rev., 434-35 Lawrence, Emeric, OSB men., 107, 110-12, 114, 117 lay activism men., 78-118, 282-83 lay apostolate men., 78-118 lay organizations men., 284 Lazarillo de Tormes men., 504-05 Lazarists men., 393-420 GENERAL INDEX Lazzari, Pietro, S.J. men., 218-19, 224 LeBlanc, Paul men., 86, 88-89 Lecompte-Ducharme, Sébastien men., 303 Ledóchowski, Wlodimir, S.J. men., 404-06, 411 Lees, Jay T. men., 439 Lefébure du Bus, Emmanuel-Marie men., 439 Le Goff, Jacques men., 486, 504, 507 Lehner, Ulrich L. men., 538, 558 Leibniz Institute of European History Offering graduate fellowships, 162-63, 297-98, 437 Leinsle, Ulrich Gottfried men., 439 Lékai, László men., 251 Lemaire, Gustave men., 385 Lenin men., 85, 89 Leopoldinen-Stiftung (Austro-Hungarian Missions funding org.) men., 371, 375, 378-79 Le Paige, Louis-Adrien men., 530, 552-53, 555, 560 Leplae, Sofie men., 364 Lerner, Marc men., 376, 380 Li, Ji Mobility and Identity: Christianity and the Making of Local Society in Northeast China, 1840–1945, 253-76 Liao, Shueh-Ying men., 438 Liaoning province, migrant settlement in men., 254, 260-61 Liaozhong county men., 255, 261-62, 270-72 liberation theology men., 81 Liber pontificalis men., 28-49 xxiii Ligutti, Luigi men., 282 Lima, Sixth Provincial Council of men., 119-47 Limagne, Pierre men., 57, 62-68, 72, 74-76 Lindeijer, Marc men., 366, 368, 370, 372, 381 Linxin He, David men., 438 Liu Guopeng men., 401, 416 Livio, Mario Galileo and the Science Deniers, rev., 42129 men., 224 local Church men., 503-27 local society men., 253-76 Locher, Johann Georg men., 194-97, 202-03, 213 Locofoco Democrats men., 598 Lodi, Peace of men., 334 Loeb, Avi Extraterrestrial: The First Sign of Intelligent Life Beyond Earth, rev., 421-29 Lolli, Gregorio men., 340 Long Reformation in Eastern Europe (1500–1800) Research Team To hold workshop, 437 Longobardi, Niccolo, S.J. men., 260 Loos, Milan men., 486 Lorenzetti, Ambrogio men., 174-76, 179 Loreto-López, Rosalva men., 474, 476 Lorini, Niccolò men., 215 Loschi, Pellegrino Niccolò men., 359 Loughery, John men., 79, 91, 102, 111, 113 Louis XIV of France men., 529-30 xxiv GENERAL INDEX Ludlow, Peter men., 303 Ludwig-Missionsverein (Bavarian Missions funding org.) men., 363, 371, 378-79 Ludwig, King of Bavaria men., 371 Luft, Aliza men., 55, 70 Lumen Gentium men., 108 Luther, Martin men., 523-24 Lutherans men., 563, 629, 646 Lutter, Christina men., 439 Luyten, Jo men., 366, 368, 370, 372, 381 Lyon-Caen, Nicolas men., 536, 553 Ma Xiangbo men., 401-02 MacDonald, Edward men., 303 Machiavelli men., 327 Maes, August-Pierre-Henri men., 412 Maffei, Raffaele men., 39-40 Maffei, Scipione men., 356 Maglione, Luigi, Cardinal men., 57, 69 Magri, Edward men., 250 Mahmed II, Sultan men., 568 Maillard de Tournon, Charles Thomas, Cardinal men., 403 Maire, Catherine men., 529-31, 533, 536, 543, 545-46, 548, 550, 552, 555-57, 559 Maldonado, Juan (humanist) men., 519 Manchukuo period men., 256, 272-74 Manchuria men., 253-76 Manchuria Mission, men., 253, 255, 261-62, 264-66, 275 Mango, Cyril men., 12 Mani, Thattunkal men., 438 Manichaean Treatise men., 482-502 Manselli, Raoul men., 487 Marefoschi, Mario Compagnoni, Cardinal men., 359 Marchetto, Agostino men., 302 Marguerat, Daniel men., 438 Marian piety men., 11-13 and attitudes toward women, men., 17 Marion, Paul men., 63 Maritain, Jacques men., 52, 59, 67, 104, 442 Marius, Simon men., 424, 426 Mark, Italian Cathar leader men., 483, 489 Marquette University men., 363-92 married clergy men., 284 Martin V, Pope men., 32, 43 Martín de Porres, Saint men., 608, 615-16 Martin of Troppau men., 32, 43 Martin, Henri-Jean men., 535, 537 Martinelli, Fioravante men., 47 Martini, Simone men., 174-75 Mary of Egypt men., 17 Mary Queen of Scots men., 630-31 GENERAL INDEX Mary, Virgin and Saint men., 11-12, 154, 174-75, 181-82, 189, 352, 354 Maryknoll Society men., 281, 286 masculinity men., 478-80 Massa, Mark S., S.J. men., 79-82, 112 Rev. of P. Lacroix, 636-39 Massino, Jill men., 238 Masson, Papire men., 44-45 Maupeou [René Nicolas de], Chancellor men., 537, 559 Maurin, Peter men., 79-80, 113 Maurras, Charles men., 59 Mazzoleni, Danilo men., 438 Mazzuchelli, Samuel, O.P. men., 277, 281, 283 McCabe, Herbert, O.P. men., 115-16 McCarraher, Eugene men., 115-16 McCarthy, Joseph men., 95-96, 235 McCartin, James P. men., 83, 106-08, 158-59 McCartin, Joseph A. men., 83 McCoog, Thomas M., S.J. Rev. of A. Freeman, 630-31 McDonough, Michael men., 96 McGill, Mary men., 285 McGreevy, John T. men., 80, 108, 365 McLaughlin, Raoul men., 438 McManners, John men., 534, 548 McManus, Stuart Receives David Berry Brize for “Scots at the Council of Ferrara-Florence and the Background to the Scottish Renaissance,” 436-37 xxv Meconis, Charles A. men., 80-81, 110 medieval dualism men., 482-502 medieval England men., 292-93 Medina, Bernardo de men., 608 Mehmet II men., 325 Meier, Mischa men., 12 Mekkattukulam, Jiphy Francis men., 438 Melchiorre de Lorenzo, S.J. men., 355 Melikset-Begi, Leon men., 569 Melkite Christianity men., 162 Melville, Annabelle M. men., 281, 367-68 Melville, Gert and Johannes Helmrath, eds. The Fourth Lateran Council: Institutional Reform and Spiritual Renewal. Proceedings of the Conference Marking the Eight Hundredth Anniversary of the Council Organized by Pontificio Comitato di Scienze Storiche (Rome, 15–17 October 2015), rev., 622-23 Melville, Gert men., 439 Melville, Marjorie men., 81 Melville, Thomas men., 81 men religious men., 478 mendicant orders men., 477 Mercedarians men., 119-47 Merklen, Léon men., 50-77 Merton, Thomas men., 81, 110-11, 152 Meserve, Margaret men., 29, 328, 340, 345 Mészáros, Tibor men., 240-41, 244 xxvi GENERAL INDEX Métayer, Isidore men., 262 Mexican Academy of History men., 478, 481 Mexican National Archives men., 463-64, 467 Meyer, Michael men., 467 Michel, Marie-José men., 535, 537, 540, 544 Michel, Virgil, O.S.B. men., 106 Michelangelo men., 181 Michelin, Alfred men., 67-68, 74, 76 Mickens, Leah Receives inaugural Davis Prize for book project “In the Shadow of Ebenezer: A Black Catholic Parish in the Age of Civil Rights and Vatican II,” 296-97 Migliaccio, Lorenzo men., 355 migration men., 253-76 Milanese, Giuseppe Ignazio, S.J. men., 355 Milhou, Alain men., 517-18 Millar, Fergus men., 8-9 Miller, Perry men., 604 Minamiki, George H. men., 419 Mindszenty, József, Cardinal men., 226-52 Minnich, Nelson H. men., 30, 155-56, 161-62, 282, 301, 303-04, 518, 613 Obit. of G. Constable, 303-04 Minoux, Anthony, S.J. men., 380-83, 385-89 Mirkis, Yousif Thomas men., 438 Miscamble, Wilson, C.S.C. men., 293 Missions Entrangères de Paris (MEP) men., 253-54, 261-62, 264, 266, 273 Missions men., 253-76, 277-78 Missouri Mission (Jesuit), men., 363-92 Moatti, Claudia men., 438 Mocellin, Maria Cristina Cella Pope Francis recognizes for heroic virtue, 641-42 Moghila, Peter [Petro Mohyla] men., 563, 582 Mohican Hymns men., 302 Moiser, Jeremy men., 529 Molina, Luis de men., 552 Molinists men., 529, 539, 541, 556 Mollin, Marian men., 80-81 Momigliano, Arnaldo men., 5-6, 8-9, 11, 14, 27 Moneta de Cremona men., 495-96 Montaigne, Paul-Léon-Cornil men., 415, 418 Montes, Melecio men., 125 Montesquieu men., 349 Montgeron, Louis-Basile Carré de men., 548 Monumenta Germaniae Historica To sponsor course on diplomatics of medieval papal charters, 299-300 Moore, Anne Joachim, Sister men., 100, 101 Moore, Cecilia men., 296-97 Moore, Robert Ian men., 487-88 Moravian Archives men., 302 Moreau, François-Regis men., 438 Morelló i Bagueat, Jordi men., 302 Morgan, Ronald men., 616 GENERAL INDEX Morghen, Raffaello men., 486 Morin, Stéphane men., 438 Mouly, Joseph-Martial men., 397, 399 Mounier, Emmanuel men., 52, 79 Moylan, Mary men., 81 Mueller, Joseph Ferdinand men., 363, 379, 383-86 Muratori, Lodovico Antonio, [pseud. Antonio Lampridio] men., 349-62 Muriel, Josefina men., 461 Murphy, Laura men., 84 Murphy, William Stack, S.J. men., 390 Murúa, Martín de, O.M. men., ii, 120, 142, 147 Mystical Body of Christ, theology of men., 102, 106-07, 280 Nalle, Sara T. men., 525-26 National Catholic Educational Association men., 281 National Catholic Rural Life Conference men., 282, 284 National Catholic Welfare Conference (NCWC) men., 105, 284 National Council of Catholic Men/Women men., 284, 287 National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) men., 480-81 Native American Missions men., 278, 366-69, 371, 374 Nazism men., 50-77 Neapolitan humanism men., 325-48 Negrón, Juan men., 138 Negruzzo, Simona The Effectiveness of an Anonymous Pen: The Experience of the Jesuit xxvii Polemicist Francesco Antonio Zaccaria, 349-62 Nelli, René men., 484, 500 Nelli, Suzanne men., 497 Nemer, Lawrence, S.V.D. obit., 645-47 neo-conservatism men., 231 Nerinckx, Charles, S.J. men., 366 New France men., 278 New Spain men., 642-43 Newberry Library of Chicago Sponsors research workshop on “New Spain: Demystifying Colonial Documents from the Ayer Collection,” 642-43 Newman Center, University of Minnesota men., 91, 96-97, 105, 107, 118 Newman, John Henry men., 21, 294-95, 440 Newtonian physics men., 219, 426 Nicetas, Bogomil bishop men., 483-84, 489 Nicholas I, Pope men., 33, 41-47 Nicholas V, Pope men., 333, 347 Nicol, Donald men., 19 Nielsen, Kim E. men., 232 Nieto Soria, José Manuel men., 504 Ninety-Five Theses men., 523 Nixon, Richard men., 230, 237, 240, 247, 251 Noirfontaine, Françoise de men., 529, 534, 537, 544, 550 Nouvelles ecclésiastiques men., 528-60 O’Connell, Marvin R. biog., 293-95 xxviii GENERAL INDEX O’Banion, Patrick J. men., 506, 509-10, 513, 515, 518, 52125, 527 Obolensky, Dimitri men., 486 O’Brien, David J. men., 80, 105, 117 O’Brien, Emily men., 328-29, 342, 346, 348 O’Brien, Jean M. men., 302 O’Keefe, Cyril B. men., 535, 537 Ondra, Leos men., 210 Oran, conquest of men., 517 Orbán, Viktor men., 252 Orbeliani, Nikoloz men., 582 Orbeliani, Sulkhan-Saba men., ii, 565-66, 568, 570-71 Orbelishvili, Bessarion men., 561-84 Oriental Institute, Oxford men., 162 orientalism, and Byzantine Studies men., 19-20 Orsini, Alessandro, Cardinal men., 423, 426 Orsini, Domenico, Cardinal men., 358 Orthodoxy men., 1-27 Orthodoxy, Georgia men., 561-84 and Union with Rome, men., 561, 568 Osma, Pedro de men., 509 O’Toole, George Barry men., 415 O’Toole, James men., 277, 287 Ottomans men., 325, 332-33, 335, 340, 342-45, 564, 566-68 Oxford men., 1-27 Oxford Movement men., 21, 293-95 Oxford, Mitchell E. Receives 2020 John Tracy Ellis Award for “The French Revolution and the Making of an American Catholicism 1789 through 1870,” 158-59 Pacem in Terris men., 81, 637 pacifism men., 81, 109-11, 113, 116 Padden, Robert C. men., 461, 463 Palazzo Pubblico, Siena men., 174-76 Palmer, Bryan D. men., 86-87 Pandulphus, Cardinal men., 32, 39, 43 Panvinio, Onofrio men., 28-49 papacy men., 28-49 papal authority men., 328-29 Papal States men., 333, 335 Papashvili, Murman men., 562, 571, 581, 583 Papp, Gabor men., 243 Parada, Diego Antonio, Archbishop men., 128, 130, 132-33 Paris Foreign Mission Society men., 413 Parker, Theodore men., 600 Parlementaire assault on the Jesuits, France men., 533, 543, 552, 556 Pascal, Blaise men., 529-30 Paschal I, Pope men., 34 Pasqualigo, Zaccaria men., 426 Passionists men., 635-36 Patlagean, Evelyne men., 19 GENERAL INDEX Patrizi, Francesco men., 336, 340 Paul II, Pope men., 32, 34 Paul VI, Pope men., 229-30, 240-41, 247, 251 Paulicianism men., 482-502 Paulze d’Ivoy, Hugues men., 439 Paxton, Jennifer men., 161-62 Peabody, Elizabeth men., 598-99 Pedro Claver, Saint men., 616 Pegg, Mark Gregory men., 487-88 Pelagia men., 17 Peltomaa, Leena Mari men., 12 Perboyre, Gabriel men., 399, 404 Perk, Ralph J. men., 248 Peronism men., 466 Perrier, Pierre men., 438 Perrone, Sean T. men., 503 personalism men., 78-80, 82, 102 Peru men., 119-47 Pétain, Philippe men., 50, 52-55, 60-61, 63, 70, 72 Peter Canisius, Saint men., 582 Peter Martyr d’Anghiera men., 518 Peter of Pavia men., 494 Peter of Sicily men., 492-93, 496 Peters, Renate men., 123 Peters, Shawn Francis men., 80-81, 111-12 xxix Petrarch men., 29 Petrus Guillermus men., 32, 35, 37-39, 43, 46 Philip II of Spain men., 504, 511, 513, 521, 525 Philip, Duke of Burgundy men., 330, 345, 348 Piatti, Pierantonio men., 439 Picart, Bernard men., 537, 539 Piccinino affair men., 329, 333-37, 339-40, 345-46 Piccolomini, Aeneas Silvius [Pius II] men., 325-48 Piehl, Mel men., 79, 102, 106 Pietkiewicz, Rajmund. Trans. Monika and Jacek Szela In Search of “the Genuine Word of God.” Reception of the West-European Christian Hebraism in the PolishLithuanian Commonwealth in the Renaissance. [Refo500 Studies, 73], rev., 628-30 Pinsent, John men., 2 Pinturicchio men., 186 Pitta, Antonio men., 438 Pius II, Pope (Enea Silvio Piccolomini) men., 34-35, 38, 325-48 Pius V, Pope men., 40, 523-24, 631 Pius VI, Pope men., 359 Pius IX, Pope men., 66, 163 Pius X, Pope men., 66, 106, 401 Pius XI, Pope men., 57-59. 66, 104, 106, 411 Pius XII, Pope men., 53, 66, 95, 163, 233, 252 Planchet, Jean-Marie-Vincent men., 393-420 Plane compertum men., 419 xxx GENERAL INDEX Platina, Bartolomeo men., 28-49 Plato men., 3, 7, 25, 573-74 Plongeron, Bernard men., 534 Pogány, András men., 244, 247 Poggio Bracciolini men., 326 Pohlsander, Hans Achim obit., 443-44 Poilly, Nicolas Jean-Baptiste de men., 547 Polecritti, Cynthia Louise men., 179-80 Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth men., 628-30 Pontificio Comitato di Scienze Storiche To sponsor conference “Inchiesta sulla Storia dei Primi Secoli della Chiesa,” 437, 439 To sponsor conference ”I Canonici Regolari dal Medioevo ai Nostri Giorni,” 439 Pope Joan, myth of men., 30-31, 42-43 Porres, Diego de men., 136-37 Port-Royal, monastery men., 529-30, 533, 535, 540, 543-44, 546, 557, 559 Posset, Franz Rev. of R. Pietkiewicz, 628-30 Possevino, Antonio men., 47 Powers, Richard Gid men., 231, 233 preaching men., 16, 84, 165-90, 351, 356, 395 Přerovský, Oldřich men., 31-32, 34-35, 39 Prieto Sayagués, Juan A. men., 302 print culture men., 528-60 Procopius men., 10-11, 13-14, 16 Propaganda Fide men., 364, 366-68, 371-72, 374, 378-79, 393-420 Protestant Social Gospel men., 586, 604 Protestantism, American men., 633-34 proto-Marxism men., 585-604 Prügl, Thomas men., 301 Pruitt, Nicholas T. Open Hearts, Closed Doors: Immigration Reform and the Waning of Mainline Protestantism, rev., 633-34 Ptolemy of Lucca men., 43 Ptolemy men., 192, 199, 206, 220 Puente Luna, José Carlos de la men., 119-21, 127, 138, 142 Purcell, John, Bishop men., 378 Purkins, William men., 518 Putnam, Lara men., 610 Qing court men., 257-59, 264, 270, 272, 401, 410 Qing period, late reforms, men., 256-59, 263-64, 267, 269-72 Quaker religious system men., 602 Quattrocento crusade men., 325-48 Quénard, Gervais men., 57, 68-69 Querini, Angelo Maria men., 356-57 Quinn, John F. Rev. of W. Schmitt, 293-95 Ralph of Coggeshall men., 495 Ramelli, Ilaria men., 438 Randolph, Blythe men., 79, 91, 102, 111, 113 Ratti, Stéphane men., 438 GENERAL INDEX Reagan, Ronald men., 227, 231, 241-42, 252 REFORC Conference on Early Modern Christianity To include lectures on “Body and Soul: Comparative Studies on the BodySoul Concept in the Pre-Modern Era,” 643 Reform, ecclesiastical men., 503-27 reform, individual vs. social men., 595 reformation Research Consortium To hold conference on “Righteousness in Early Modern Christianity: Voices, Fruits, and Failures,” 301 To hold workshop, 437 Reformation, Catholic men., 277, 434-35, 441 Reformation, Protestant men., 29-30, 292, 293-94, 301, 434-35, 437, 445, 510, 522, 563, 629 reforming legislation men., 595, 597, 599-600, 603 religious controversies men., 528-60 Rémond, Réné men., 57, 70, 73 Renaissance historiography men., 28-49, 325-48 Republic of China (1912-49) men., 272-74, 401 Rerum Novarum men., 84, 287 Rese, Frederick men., 371, 377 resistance men., 50-77 respublica Christiana men., 325-48 Revista de Historia Jerónimo Zurita Publishes issues on theme “Obispos y aristocracias laicas en la España medieval: entre la colaboración y el conflicto,” 302 Revolt of the Comunidades of Castile men., 503-27 Ribera, Ignacio de men., 138 xxxi Ribière, Germaine men., 74-75 Ricci, Lorenzo men., 358 Riccioli, Giovanni Battista, S.J. men., 194, 199, 205, 210, 214, 220, 22223, 225 Richardson, Mary Jo men., 84 Riga, Peter men., 105 Rinaga, Miguel de la men., 134, 146 Ristuccia, Nathan J. Christianization and Commonwealth in Early Medieval Europe: A Ritual Interpretation, rev., 432-33 Rizzuto, Claudio César The Crusading Indulgence and the Revolt of the Comunidades of Castile (1520–1521): Ecclesiastical Reform and Local Religious Life, 503-27 Roach, David Receives award for “Nineteenth-century Catholic writers and print culture,” 162 Robert Bellarmine, S.J. Cardinal and Saint men., 47, 191-225, 428 Roberti, Giambattista men., 357 Roemer, Theodore men., 364, 371 Rogation Days men., 432-33 Roger of Howden men., 494 Roman, Yves men., 438 Romanos the Melodist men., 12 Rome, history of city men., 29 Roosevelt, Franklin D. men., 63, 286 Roothaan, Jan, Jesuit Superior General men., 364-66, 368, 372, 374-76, 378, 380, 383, 386-90, 410 Roquebert, Michel men., 488 xxxii GENERAL INDEX Rosenberg case men., 98 Rosswurm, Steven men., 83, 96-98 Rostovtzeff, M. I. men., 9 Rottenwöhrer, Gerhard men., 497 Roubin, Andrè men., 274 Rouco Varela, Antonio María men., 503-04, 516 Roueché, Charlotte men., 10 Rouillé, Pierre-Julien men., 351 Rousso, Henry men., 51 Rowe, Erin Kathleen Black Saints in Early Modern Global Catholicism, rev., 605-17 Forum Essay Response, 613-17 Roy, Patricia E. men., 302 Royal Historical Society Awards David Berry Prize to Stuart McManus, 436-37 Royce, Josiah men., 604 Ruíz Estrada, Arturo men., 121 Rusconi, Roberto men., 172 Russian Anti-Western religious policy men., 563, 583 Russo-Japanese war men., 255, 267-68 Rutten, Joseph men., 393-94, 398-405, 408 Ryan, John men., 84 Ryan, Thomas R. men., 585 Rybolt, John E. men., 397, 402, 404 Ryder, Alan men., 326-27, 332-36, 346 Sacchoni, Rainer men., 483 Safavid Iran men., 563-64, 568 Sainte-Beuve, Charles-Augustin men., 533 Saldzhiev, Hristo men., 493 Saliège, Jules-Géraud, Archbishop men., 60, 73 Salomon, Frank men., 121-24, 143-44, 146 Sanchez, Jean-Michel men., 438 Sandoval, Alonso de, S.J. men., 608-09 Sano di Pietro men., 168-69 Santaizi, Catholic settlement men., 253-76 Santocanale, Alessandro, S.j. men., 353-55 Sarayana Closa, Josep Ignasi men., 438 Sather lectures men., 11, 15, 17 Schadee, Hester men., 328 Schatz, Klaus men., 301, 365, 368, 376-77, 380-81 Scheiner, Christoph, S.J. men., 191-225 Schelstrate, Emmanuel men., 47 Scherer, Georg men., 44-45 Scherle, William J. men., 241 Schettini, Glauco Receives award for “Intellectual history of Catholicism in the Age of Revolutions,” 162 Scheut Missionaries men., 393, 398-99 Schiavo, Domenico men., 356 Schlafly, Phyllis men., 230, 234-35, 237, 241, 251 Schlesinger, Arthur M., Jr. men., 585, 589, 592, 598, 600 GENERAL INDEX Schmiedl, Joachim men., 364 Schmitt, William, ed. Telling Stories that Matter: Memoirs and Essays. By Marvin R. O’Connell, rev., 293-95 Schmitz-Esser, Romedio men., 439 Schrecker, Ellen men., 97-98 Schwartz, Stuart B. men., 527 science men., 191-225, 421-29 Screech, Timon The Shogun’s Silver Telescope: God, Art, and Money in the English Quest for Japan, rev., 421-29 Second Plenary Council of Baltimore (1866) men., 283 Second Red Scare men., 93, 96, 98 Second Vatican Council men., 54-55, 78-82,102, 105-06, 108-09, 159, 230-31, 252, 278-79, 296-97, 441 Séguier, Jean-François men., 356 Seibert, Harald men., 211 Selge, Kurt-Victor men., 489, 497 Semelin, Jacques men., 51 Seminary of St. Francis Xavier (The Athenaeum) men., 378 Semler, Johann Salomo men., 356 sermons men., 21, 165-90 Serra, Junipero, Saint men., 281 Servière, Joseph de la men., 404-05, 409-10 Seventh Ecumenical Council (Nicaea II, 787) men., 33 Sforza, Francesco men., 334-35, 347 Shaffern, Robert W. men., 158, 507, 520, 640 xxxiii Shakir Mahmoud, Sahar Nafi men., 438 Shandong province, immigration from men., 253, 256-57, 260-61, 267, 271 Shannon, Patrick, Bishop men., 115 Sheen, Fulton men., 97-98 Sheils, Bill Rev. of E. Gregory, 632-33 Shortall, Sarah men., 54, 75 Shroud of Turin, and image of Edessa men., 13 Sicily men., 611-12 Siena, baptistery men., 165-90 Sienese factions men., 179-80 Sigonio, Carlo men., 44 Silvermaster, Nathan men., 98 Simon, Bishop of Drugunthia men., 483 Sipes, Henry men., 212 Sisters of Charity men., 280, 286 Sixtus IV, Pope men., 34, 40 Skinner, William men., 256 Slant movement, Britain men., 78, 82, 115-17 slavery men., 278-79, 287, 605-17 Smith Act men., 90, 93, 97, 112 Soanen, Jean, Bishop men., 536, 539, 547-48 Sobel, Dava men., 202 social gospel men., 287, 585-86, 593, 634 social justice men., 78-118, 232 Socialist Party of America (SP) men., 85 xxxiv GENERAL INDEX Socialist Workers Party (SWP) men., 78, 87-90, 92-99, 109, 115, 118 Society for Italian Historical Studies Announces Helen and Howard R. Marraro Prize, 160 Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies men., 19 Society for the Propagation of the Faith men., 364, 366-68, 371-72, 374, 378-79, 393-420 Society of Jesus, men., 44-45, 47, 60, 74, 107, 132, 13536, 152, 191-225, 251, 260, 277, 281, 349-62, 363-92, 393-420, 427-28, 643-44 Belgian Jesuit missions, men., 363-92 France, men., 528-60 Jesuit financial networks, men., 363-92 suppression of, men., 356-57, 359, 396-98, 533, 543, 552, 556, 557, 559 Soergel, Philip M. Obit. of T. N. Tentler, 444-45 Solomon, David men., 293 Sonderbund War men., 380 Sonntag, Jörg men., 439 Sorbonne men., 543, 548 South Manchurian Railway Company men., 257 Spanish imperialism men., 277-78 Spellman, Francis, Cardinal men., 226, 233, 245 spiritual lives of nuns men., 473-75 spiritual resistance men., 52-53 Stalin (Stalinism) men., 85-86, 88, 226-52 star size question, Copernicanism and men., 191-225, 421-29 Starr-Le Beau, Gretchen D. men., 527 Stehle, Hansjakob men., 230 Stephen V, Pope men., 28, 32, 37, 46 Sterne, Evelyn Savidge men., 83 Stilting, Joannes men., 356 Stirling-Harris, A. Katie men., 159-60 St. Louis College men., 369-70, 372, 375-76, 390 St. Médard cemetery men., 543, 548 Stoyanov, Yuri men., 483, 488, 493 Strong, David, S.J. men., 399 Stuart, Dianne men., 614 St. Xavier College men., 375, 378 Suenens, Kristien men., 366, 368, 370, 372, 381, 385 Suhard, Emmanuel, Cardinal men., 70-71 Swanson, Robert N. men., 506-07, 522 Swiss Jesuits men., 365, 376, 380-83, 386-91 syncretism, Andean Christianity men., 134-37, 144-46 Szabó, János [Sabo] men., 242-43 Tabaghua, Ilia men., 564, 566 Tacquet, André, S.J. men., 191-225 Tallon, Alain men., 520, 524 Tamarashvili, Mikheil men., 565, 573, 583 Tanucci, Bernardo men., 358-59 Tateo, Francesco men., 327-28 Tavárez, David men., 119 Taveneaux, René men., 529, 536, 548, 550 GENERAL INDEX Taylor, Claire men., 488 Teamsters strike of 1934 men., 86-87 Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre men., 107 Teimuraz II, King of Georgia men., 579-81 Tentler, Leslie Woodcock American Catholics, Forum Essay rev., 277-91 Forum Essay Response, 288-91 men., 80, 83, 102, 106 Tentler, Thomas Nathaniel obit., 444-45 Teresa of Avila, Saint men., 473 Terry, Thomas D., S.J. men., 251 Testa, Rita Lizzi men., 299 Thatcher, Margaret men., 231 Thellier de Poncheville, Charles men., 60, 72 Theodora, Empress men., 492 Theodosius men., 338 Théry, Julien men., 487 Thomas Aquinas, St. men., 74, 91, 94, 171, 441 Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk men., 630-31 Thomists men., 529 Thompson, Augustine men., 168, 184-85 Thompson, Daniel Receives 2020 Peter Guilday Prize for “Spaces of Dissent: Violence and Cuban Catholic Resistance, 1959– 1961,” 160-61 Thoreau, [Henry David] men., 586 Thouzellier, Christine men., 486, 490, 497-98, 501-02 Tibesar, Antonine, O.F.M. men., 281 xxxv Tiedemann, Rolf Gerhard men., 395 Tillman, Patricia K. men., 227, 233-35 Tinikashvili, David An Anti-Catholic Georgian Theological Treatise (18th c.) in the Context of Georgian-European Relations, 561-84 Tippecanoe men., 586, 588 Tiraboschi, Girolamo men., 357 Tischler, Matthias M. men., 439 Tognoletto, Pietro men., 611 Tortorici, Zeb men., 469 Transcendentalism, American men., 585-604 Traxler, Christina men., 301 Treaty of Georgievsk men., 578-79 Trigona, Vespasiano Maria, S.J. men., 352, 355 Trisco, Robert men., 465 Obit. of L. Nemer, 645-47 Rev. of L. Tentler, Forum Essay, 28082 Troili, Domenico men., 357 Trotsky, Leon (Trotskyists) men., 78, 83, 86-90, 92, 94-96, 101, 104 Truman, Harry S. men., 233 Turni, Giovanni di men., 167, 187-88 Tuskegee Institute men., 148-49 Tyler, John men., 586, 588 Tyssens, Jeffery men., 364 U.S. Catholic Church men., 78-118, 226-52, 277-91, 293-95, 363-92, 635-36, 636-39 U.S. Catholic Historian men., 282, 436 xxxvi GENERAL INDEX Ulbrich, Shane Inaugural Davis Prize award announcement, 296-97 Ulrich of Celji, assassination of men., 342-43 UNESCO Save Carthage project men., 10 Unigenitus men., 528-60 Unitarianism men., 585, 589, 595-96, 598 Université Catholique de Lyon To sponsor conference “Inchiesta sulla Storia dei Primi Secoli della Chiesa,” 437-38 Urban V, Pope men., 32, 43 Urban VI, Pope men., 43 Urban VIII, Pope men., 216, 422, 429 Úrsula de Jesús men., 607, 612, 616 Urton, Gary men., 119-20, 124 Vakhtang VI, King of Georgia men., 565-66, 582 Valerio, Miguel men., 614 Valla, Lorenzo men., 29-30 Van Buren, Martin men., 585-604 Van de Velde, James, S.J. men., 366, 372-76, 390 Van Dijck, Maarten men., 364 Van Geest, Paul J.J. men., 439 Van Helden, Albert men., 193-94 Van Kley, Dale K. men., 529, 532-33, 536, 541, 547, 55053, 556-60 Vanpaemel, Geert H. W. men., 192, 194, 214 Van Rossum, Willem Marinus men., 393-420 Várdy, Stephen B. and Agnes Huszár Várdy men., 234, 237, 245 Vatican Apostolic Archives men., 394-95, 407-08, 410-15, 417-19 Vatican Ostpolitik men., 226, 230 Vecchietta men., 189-90 Vélez, Karin Rev. of E. K. Rowe, Forum Essay, 60709 Venarde, Bruce L. Rev. of C. H. Berman, 620-21 Venault, Charles Joseph men., 261 Verdier, François men., 404, 406-08, 411, 415-16, 418-19 Verdon, Timothy men., 167 Vermote, Fred men., 364, 391 Verrolles, Emmanuel men., 261-62 Vespasiano da Bisticci men., 179 Veyrenche, Yannick men., 439 Viaene, Vincent men., 366, 376-77 Vichy France men., 50-77 Vietnam war men., 7, 79-81, 109, 115, 164, 232-33, 239, 252 Vignoli, Giovanni men., 46-48 Vintimille, [Charles-Gaspard-Guillaume de], Archbishop men., 537, 542, 544 Visconti, Federigo [Federico] men., 185 Visconti, Ignazio, S.J. men., 357 Voigt, Lisa men., 614 Rev. of E. K. Rowe, Forum Essay, 609-10 Vones-Liebenstein, Ursula men., 439 Wachenheim, Pierre men., 534 wage slavery men., 594 GENERAL INDEX Wald, Alan men., 86, 89 Waldensians men., 489, 491, 622, 625, 628 Wanegffelen, Thierry men., 506 Wang, Paul Jiyou men., 401 Wang, Zhixi Rev. of J. C. H. Wu, 152-54 Warburg Institute men., 5 Ware, Kallistos men., 582 Wari Empire men., 121 Warren, Jean-Philippe men., 303 Wars of Religion men., 532, 556, 560 Washington, Booker T. men., 148-49 Watkin, Edward I. men., 103-04 Weber, Max men., 83 Webster, Daniel men., 598 Weed, Thurlow men., 598 Welch, Evelyn men., 171 Westphalia, Peace of men., 440 Wheeler, Rachel men., 302 Whig Party men., 586-600 White Nuns (Cistercians) men., 620-21 White, Harry Dexter men., 98 White, Hayden men., 11 White, Joseph men., 161-62 Rev. of L. Tentler, Forum Essay, 28285 Wieviorka, Olivier men., 54 xxxvii William and Mary Quarterly Publishes issue on Rachel Wheeler and Sarah Eyerly’s “Singing Box 331: Eighteenth-Century Mohican Hymns from the Moravian Archives,” 302 William of Nangis men., 495 Wingerd, Mary Lethert men., 83-85 Woelki, Thomas men., 301 Wolińska, Teresa men., 493 women, in antiquity men., 17 women religious men., 80, 98, 115, 161-62, 278, 280, 286, 289, 461-81 women’s education men., 469-70 women’s history men., 465-66 Woolf, Daniel men., 29 Wootton, David men., 217 working classes men., 585-604 World War II men., 50-77, 149-52, 233, 239, 634, 635-36 Wostenberg, Henry men., 302 Wu, Albert Monshan men., 395 Wu, Hsin-fang An Investigation into the Histoire de la mission de Pékin, 1924–1932, 393-420 Wu, John C. H. (Wu Jingxiong) Beyond East and West, rev., 152-54 Xiaobajiazi, Catholic settlement men., 261-62, 273 Ximenes, Leonardo men., 357 Yevadian, Maxime men., 438 Ying Lianzhi men., 401 Yoder, Richard T. From the Dove to the Eagle: Jansenist xxxviii GENERAL INDEX Visual Culture Between Piety and Polemic, 528-60 Young, Ernest men., 395, 416 Young, Robin Darling men., 161-62 Obit. of H. A. Pohlsander, 443-44 Yucra, Nieves men., 142 Zaccaria, Francesco Antonio, S.J. men., 349-62 Zauli, Giuseppe men., 357 Zbiral, David men., 483-85, 488, 497 Zeigler, James men., 232 Zeitlin, Froma men., 7 Zerner, Monique men., 485, 487, 497 Zhordania, Tedo men., 566-67, 579 Zöller, Wolf men., 439 Zuidema, Reiner Tom men., 120 Photograph by Andrew Lavrin THE CATHOLIC HISTORICAL REVIEW VOL. 107 AUTUMN 2021 NO. 4 Historian with a Double Major: The Church and Feminism ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN* I became a historian of the Church by serendipity. But then, I have learned that many of my colleagues who also cultivate this field have confessed that they had a similar experience. It is a good club to belong to. As for the feminism side of my career, it was a well-thought choice, but it came much after I began navigating the waters of church history. The serendipity part came as a recently married twenty-three-year-old graduate student walked into the office of a historian at the University of California in Berkeley. He was Robert C. Padden, who had published a justifiably popular and well-researched book on the conquest of Mexico, the Hummingbird and the Hawk. He was not a historian of religion or the Church. Yet, he was sympathetic and friendly to this rather disoriented young woman who was seeking a good topic for research for her doctorate degree. He pointed to a title on women in convents in Mexico, the first in the field, by historian Josefina Muriel, and suggested that there was more to do on both women and convents, should that topic be of my interest. For some reason still unclear to me, I was. And that is how it all began. A bit of background history is necessary at this point. I arrived in the U.S. from my native Cuba with a solid college education that covered three years of Latin and three years of Greek—most of which are now gone— history of art, history of world literatures, philosophy and, yes, western history. I loved them all, but inside me I knew I preferred history. Exactly what period or what area? I was unsure, but there was plenty of time ahead. I won a scholarship to study at a place named Radcliffe College, about which I knew nothing, but was glad to travel to, and begin my next adven*Asunción Lavrin is a professor of History, emerita, at Arizona State University. Her email address is lavrin64@gmail.com. 461 462 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR ture in life. I arrived with hardly any experience of spoken English, although I could read it very well. After three weeks in a foreign students’ summer initiation camp—what a joy to meet other young people from so many different countries—I had all the preparation I was going to get to tackle that place, Radcliffe, and its relative, Harvard University. Needless to say, everything was foreign and marvelous, but it was hard work: writing in English, remembering a bibliography in that language, getting to know how professors taught and what they expected from students, navigating a new school environment with rules that pointed to getting a degree, exploring libraries, making friends. It was puzzling, but I was young and my professors were kind. Much later, I learned how “big” those professors were and appreciated the degree of their understanding of foreign students. Among such puzzling experiences, I met a young man from England who was attending business school at Harvard. Two years later he proposed and I accepted. It was that simple. By then he had transferred to the University of California at Berkeley, abandoned business school, and entered a program in Biochemistry and Immunology. He would get his doctorate in that field while I worked on my own. And that is how I found myself in Berkeley, California, looking for a topic for a dissertation. Harvard was easier then than now: two years of graduate courses, an oral examination in three fields, and if one passed, one was a doctoral candidate. So, I became one. I had some excellent professors while at Harvard, but I cannot say that they were “mentors.” They were kind, but our time together was short and passed fast, and none of them was available for a degree in Latin American history, one of the weak points in the program. My dissertation was read by a professor in the Spanish Department. I graduated in 1963, the first class of women historians in the history of Harvard University. Despite all obvious handicaps, I had become a full-fledged historian—or so I thought, at any rate. Life would teach me otherwise, but that was in the future then. I do consider myself a fast learner and also a self-made historian. I read the writings of the “great men” in History and at some point, I even taught courses in the development of History as a discipline, a great way to gain perspective and approach the discipline as a humble practitioner despite any university degree. That background explains why my doctoral research topic was suggested by someone who was totally new to me. While I did not realize it then, I was launching into two “odd” fields of history: the Catholic Church, and the history of women, even though it was women religious. Women’s history was not yet a recognized academic field, and they were ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 463 nuns. Were they a different category? Time would tell. After accepting Professor Padden’s advice, I wrote Harvard and filed for a dissertation with a nominal advisor there, but I was really on my own. The next challenge was to carry out research in Mexico. The Bancroft Library at Berkeley had a magnificent collection of documents, but a trip to the Mexican archives was absolutely essential, given the nature of my topic. The Bancroft Library continued to be my research anchor for several years, a place to read and explore. I remember fondly its head, Dr. George Hammond. After my first research trip to Mexico, I paid a visit to his office and pointed out to him that a complete section of the Mexican Archives of the Nation on “Temples and Convents” had been microfilmed. Would the Library be amenable to purchasing it? I was only a doctoral candidate and certainly not registered at the University of California as a student, but I had no hesitation in my naïveté. He was generous and had a big smile. He agreed immediately to buy the microfilm, and I was guaranteed some first-class materials close to my home base, although subsequent trips to my sources in Mexico remained essential. At this point, the details on how I planned that first trip escape me, but I landed in Mexico City with the same kind of lack of experience and enthusiasm that seemed to be my trademark. The archives were housed in the same building that had sheltered the colonial viceroys and were then the presidential palace. The building also housed battalion No. 1 of the Mexican army. So, in my daily visits I saw government bureaucrats, archivists, researchers, and soldiers. When very dusty reams of colonial papers were tendered to me for the first time and in subsequent yearly visits, I knew I was “caught” forever. The sight and feeling of those old papers and the stories they revealed were addictive. I have followed the Mexican National Archives through two “moves” to other more appropriate buildings as the key anchor of all my research. At some point, I took a side research trip to the city of Guadalajara in pursuit of what were rumored to be “secret” convents’ papers held by communities of cloistered nuns. I had to obtain permission from the archdiocese of Guadalajara to get the addresses of the convents because under the existing national laws enclosure was not “legal” and those communities were underground. So, I requested to be received by the archbishop in one of his open receptions for believers and other people seeking some favor or advice. I now know that José Garibi y Rivera, then archbishop, was elevated to cardinal in 1958, so I must have met a cardinal. Titles remain fuzzy in my memory but I do remember clearly that when my turn came to be introduced to him, I realized that I had never met a prince of the Church and I did not know what to do. He suavely assisted me by offering his ring for a reverential kiss. 464 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR After that, I very humbly explained my mission. At some point, he asked me if Harvard University was a Catholic University. I had to confess it was not, but he seemed not to have been troubled by that fact or by my request, and I got the addresses. Unfortunately, the rumors about secret archives were not true. The nuns had little to offer on historical papers. However, I learned about the public library and the archives of the city, to which I later returned on another research trip. Convents and Nuns: My First Love While the Guadalajara nuns’ lack of historical documents disappointed me, their ancestors in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were more generous, and their papers at the National Archive of the Nation and other venues in Mexico and in the U.S. have for decades supplied me with plenty of resources for my research. Once I began my work, I realized that conventual accounts and administrative records were the most abundant, for obvious reasons: the affairs of this world were the anchor of the convents; without economic self-sufficiency they would not have been able to survive as religious institutions in search of the spiritual. Those records tied the convents to the economic layout of the land and its propertied class. While I had to construct a complete picture of nunneries as social, spiritual, and economic institutions, the weight of those financial records guided my first publications and attendance at historical conferences. In the late 1960s and throughout the early 1970s economic and quantitative history were at the cusp of their popularity and my data on the economic role of nunneries in the colonial economy was a revelation to fellow historians who had never thought that women in convents had anything to do with money or investments. In 1966 the Hispanic American Historical Review published my second article as a historian on the role of the nunneries in the economy of New Spain in the eighteenth century. It explained that nuns were real estate owners and investors, and were in the money lending business catering to rich merchants. Who would have thought! In 1967 the article won the annual prize for the best article published in 1966, the James Alexander Robertson Memorial Prize. I traveled for the first time to the American Historical Association annual meeting to receive it. The AHA was a man’s bastion and I was surrounded by men. I was presented with a corsage to pin on my jacket for the annual luncheon. That has never happened again. Catholic nunneries in Latin America were a totally unknown topic in those years, and I found historical journals were interested in my work. I ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 465 continued to publish on convents in general and their administration in particular, and how they fit in the social and economic reality of a European colony in the Americas. The network of fifty-seven convents on Mexican soil sheltered the female social elite and was tied to Mexican society through a complex system of liens and loans and urban real estate. After an attempt at land-ownership in the seventeenth century, the prelates decided that the administration of rural properties should not be the main concern of women dedicated to God. Urban property ownership and loans or liens on real estate administered by men was more suitable to convents. My work added an unknown dimension to the predominant view that wealth was in the hands of miners, merchants, and hacienda owners. It was undeniably intriguing to think that those women, hidden from view behind thick walls, could and would be invested in real estate and were “bankers” to powerful men. Following this lead, I extended my enquiries into the nineteenth century to survey how nunneries as property owners and sources of cash dealt with the increasing hostile republican administrations of the new nation and published two more articles on the topic covering the nineteenth century up to 1860 when after years of struggle cloistered nunneries were banned in the country. Around that time The Catholic Historical Review published my only article with the journal in 1972, “Values and Meaning of Monastic Life for Nuns in Colonial Mexico,” under the kind editorial policy of Father Robert Trisco. By amplifying my interest on the economic role of nunneries to cover the economic role of other religious institutions such as confraternities, I sustained my research and publications on economic issues through the following decades. An intensive study of the relationship between the ecclesiastical capital and the social elites in Mexico (1985) appeared shortly after essays on the theme of sexuality in Mexican colonial history (1984), a review of studies on women’s history in Latin America (1984), an inquiry into Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz’s behavior as compared to that of “model” nuns in Mexico (1983, 1984), and a general historiography of the Church in colonial Latin America (1989). The Church and nuns did not lose their appeal to me; they were joined by a new “stream” of interest: women in the larger frame of history of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. My interest in secular women’s history was a natural response to changes in the academic world in the late 1970s and onwards. By the mid 1970s women’s history was knocking at the door of all fields. Some colleagues were still somewhat disoriented about its nature. For example, the inclusion of the example of a notorious transgender who dressed up as a man and behaved as man, even after being punished with seclusion in a 466 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR nunnery, was regarded as a contribution to women’s history. The inclusion of “notable women” or queens also pretended to fulfill the requirement of mentioning women in general surveys. “Gendering” was still a concept to be developed in full. I shared the “call” to women’s history with other women in my field. Latin American history was then taught largely as political history populated by male archetypes: conquistadors, pre- and post-conquest kings and emperors, dictators, political redeemers, messianic male revolutionaries, and, when religion and church were involved, plenty of evangelizers, bishops and archbishops, male saints, or irascible inquisitors. Otherwise, we had mothers of the new republics, women revolutionaries, or audacious and exceptional women such as “the Evita” of Argentine Peronism. Building a stronger foundation for a better treatment of women in our history had to begin somewhere. Since I was in the colonial period, I remained there. There were many basic questions still to be raised and answered, and those of us who began discussing women’s history with our surprised—albeit sometimes delighted—male colleagues had to lay a general foundation of understanding of what women’s history was. What were the social and cultural mechanisms shaping women’s lives in general? Why was there a predictable dichotomy in women’s lives that drove them into either marriage and family, or a cloister? Was the experience of “womanhood” the same for women in complex, multi-racial, and economically unbalanced societies? These were basic bread-and-butter issues that look very unsophisticated decades later, but were nonetheless our starting point. The known world of nuns guided me into the relatively unknown world of secular women, which I began tackling by using the same documents I had used when I was writing on nuns: dowries and wills, the legal pillars sustaining all women’s lives and already in wide use by historians in European history. Dowries and wills furnished data of how men’s and women’s lives were defined and intertwined at two crucial moments in their lives: marriage and family formation, and death and the legacy of material wealth. They opened new vistas on the social and financial strategies of individuals as well as families. Working with my friend and colleague, Edith Couturier, we developed a research project on the nature, scope, and consequences of those legal documents in two cities: Mexico City and Guadalajara, both sites of the only two judicial courts of the viceroyalty and with excellent notarial records. The result was another first—so much so that the two male readers for the same journal that eventually published it rejected it outright. Fortunately, the editor of the Hispanic American Historical Review, Michael ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 467 Meyer, had two women historians as editorial advisors, Susan Deeds and Donna Guy, who had a more open view of the future trends of history and reversed the fate of the article. It was finally published in 1979, although it lost one of its sections on the meaning of both sources for the study of material culture, a topic I never returned to. When we presented a paper on this topic in an AHA panel dedicated to women, the room was filled to capacity. I suspect that many male colleagues had come as “observers” of a rare event. Since then, dowries and wills have been amply used by historians in my field as meaningful sources for the study of women’s status, marriage, and social and economic connections among people—whether with small or large economic resources—as well as how their dowries provided the source of funds for pious and religious ends that benefited the Church. Before the publication of that article, I had already decided to publish an edited book on women’s history. I like team-working. Then, and now, collaboration continues to be essential to break into new fields of research and understand topics with the benefit of the broader and multi-layered angle of several contributors. I gathered the best work of a number of colleagues who had been investigating, in pioneering ways, on women and gender-relations issues in this vast new field. There was no one at the time ready to write a general or even a regional history of women in Latin America with the fragmentary information we had in hand. It was necessary to introduce the topic with well-researched essays that would interest others in following the example, carry out more research, and invigorate our field. First published in English in 1978, Latin American Women: Historical Perspectives was translated into Spanish in 1985 and amply read on the continent. For decades, younger historians in Latin America have approached me and have told me how they felt inspired by this volume and its essays, to begin to study the topic in their respective countries. That was precisely my idea on the usefulness of the project, and while all books lose their currency in time, I think that our pioneering effort fulfilled its purpose. The next chapter in my development as a historian of women relied in no small degree on the variety of ecclesiastical resources housed in the Mexican National Archives. The Church is such a complex institution, and it was so naturally intertwined with the legal structure of the state in Spanish America, that it could furnish abundant materials for all social history topics. Along with women’s history, the history of sexuality was fast becoming a field of its own. Data provided by colonial sources showed that a large number of children were born out of wedlock in Catholic New Spain. This issue demanded an answer. Studies of marriage patterns and choice of marriage partners as they were carried out then simply did not 468 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR address the root problem of such a high incidence of births outside the perimeters of civil and religious laws. It was also a situation that affected women of the lower classes in a multiracial society: those single mothers and those often-mixed-race children had to be explained to understand the complexities of colonial society gender and racial relations. The Church had many venues to model and control sexual behavior. It seemed to me that in order to explain the reality of “deviant” out-of-wedlock births rather than “proper” legitimate births, we had first to learn more about the rules set out by the Church in its indoctrination and even delve into moral theology. They are the sources from which confessors distilled their advice and confessors impinged on everybody’s lives. Spanish America was a Catholic society by law. Was it really a Catholic society in practice? As adults, men and women may obey or disobey the rules of ethical behavior they learned in catechism classes, and it was possible to ignore totally church teachings and instead follow one’s own emotions. It was also possible to wed properly and follow the Church’s moral guidance, but disobey it in many instances of weakness, later confessed, and possibly forgiven. Those were the situations that interested me: not charting wedlock in numbers as in quantitative history, but connecting human behavior to Church indoctrination and understanding how people challenged such a strong institution of social control. The records on the Inquisition were a very good source for understanding the rules of vigilance set up by the Church supported by the State, and, at the same time, for finding examples of how they were challenged or broken by those caught in the conundrum of flesh vs. spirit. Cast against the principles of moral theology, the records of the Inquisition are rich in testimonies that help one to understand the gap between ideal and real behavior. Throughout my life as a researcher, I have always looked for the dialogue between church and moral rules and real human behavior as a fruitful method to begin any inquiry into social history. The study of human sexuality throughout history was in its formative stages in my field in the late 1970s before it developed in full in the 1980s. For reasons similar to those supporting the publication of a collection of essays on women, I edited and co-authored a volume, Sexuality and Marriage in Latin America, in 1989, showcasing my expertise and that of several talented colleagues who wrote on several areas of Latin America. We were making a case for the need to address human sexuality as a topic essential to the study of family formation, as well as the physical drive triggering acceptable and non-acceptable forms of behavior in societies under the strict control of religious codes of personal honor. Opening gates is always a satisfactory occupation, especially when one can retrospectively see how ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 469 far and wide the field became in subsequent years. Those of us involved in that project dealt with heterosexuality. Any other form of sexuality was still a bit on the fringes of our academic horizons. Boundaries have expanded since then, and this is a good thing, as I stated when I was asked in 2015 to write the foreword for a book of essays on sexuality and the unnatural in colonial Latin America, edited by Zeb Tortorici.1 The Feminists While I continued to publish on religious women, and women and sexuality in general in the colonial period, I made an important switch on my research agenda. I developed an “urgent” curiosity to learn when and how “colonial” social and gender mores changed under the increasing pressures of independence and republicanism, urbanization, “class” consciousness, the rise of a new concept of national politics, the emergence of an urban working class, and the expansion of education. By the third quarter of the nineteenth century, women were rapidly becoming educated while at the same time joining the urban working class. Nunneries had lost their relevance as “places” to fulfill a woman’s destiny. Women’s lives, as I had known them to have been between 1550 and 1800, were “a thing of the past” by the third quarter of the nineteenth century. I was ready to expand my label as a “colonialist” and become, more fully so, a historian of women in a different chronological period. While the nineteenth century was the laboratory of ideas explaining rapid social changes, I decided that feminism, as an emergent and developing ideology in Latin America between 1890 and 1940, had helped to change women’s status significantly, as it had done in a large area of the world. With the aid of several fellowships through the mid 1970s and the mid 1980s, I was able to sustain my research in that decade. To study feminism I “left” Mexico and turned to three key countries in South America: Argentina, Chile, and Uruguay, commonly known as “Southern Cone” nations. Dates are often not chosen haphazardly. In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, most states in Latin America accepted the fact that their educational systems needed women teachers and that women’s education was a key to their own social and economic development. Women writers had already been making a case for this, but until higher education was opened to them, no change would take place. Broadly speaking urban 1. Zeb Tortorici, ed., Sexuality and the Unnatural in Colonial Latin America (Oakland, 2016). 470 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR growth and the export sector created a new labor market for women with certain skills to carry out a variety of jobs in local factories. Education and labor demands were the key factors in the process of transformation of the Southern Cone countries between 1880 and 1940. They ushered in a period of essential changes in legal rights for women that set in motion changes on individual and social attitudes about women’s role in society. The Cono Sur nations had a reasonable—albeit not always perfect— political continuity in terms of the constitutional systems: a vigorous press, a strong drive to form labor unions, a substantial input of European immigration bringing “radical” social ideas to their host countries, and an increasing number of women writers and educators that encouraged discussion of issues of civil and political rights, public health, and education. There was also at this time a small but influential number of men open to the thought of revamping the status of women through juridical and legislative actions. Further, these countries had had important political ties among themselves that would make a comparative study possible. So, I plunged into the study of feminism in full in the mid 1980s and had a lengthy book published in 1995. It remains the only comparative study of feminism in Latin America. As a personal experience, the switch of fields and geographical area was invigorating. Women remained the foundation of my interest, and I saw my switch to a contemporary period as an expansion of my understanding of the changes affecting women and men in real time, since I was part of that transformation. The number of women historians in the US expanded significantly in the 1980s and 1990s, and this change also affected my chosen field. Women were no longer an odd sight at conferences, as it had been the case in the late sixties and early seventies. Research and publication on women had validated the field and gave women full access to academic history. Not all women did women’s history, of course, but the momentum gained by women’s studies and, more amply, gender studies, meant a vigorous renovation of academic life that was transformational for both women and men. Looking back, I think that having followed a new path was one of the best choices I have made in my career as a historian. For the study of feminism, I covered the transformation of the labor market as it incorporated women and, just as importantly, began to strengthen labor unions powered by anarchist and socialist ideas that recognized the value of women’s work and their role in society. There were also men committed to the introduction, debate, and approval of basic changes in the civil codes and legislation affecting the status of women as ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 471 wives and mothers. There was discussion of divorce, public health, sexuality and reproduction issues, subjects which had been socially taboo and had never been discussed in the open for hundreds of years. Eventually by the 1930s, suffrage was included in the agenda. I studied these topics comparatively, with information for each country. This broad approach was absolutely necessary to validate the study of feminism in a continent that was “assumed” to have been conservative and Catholic, and that actually remained so until the end of the nineteenth century. It was not an easy task to address these topics across three countries but the effort was worthwhile. The stunning forces of social change experienced in these three countries in this period explain the rapid transformation of Latin American countries from being part of a colonial system until the first decades of the nineteenth century into states aspiring to join global economic and political systems a century and a half later. Women had to be placed in the center of this transformation using the only ideology that seemed to have formulated answers to most of their problems: feminism. It never occurred to me to look at the Church throughout these years, since it remained a bastion of tradition and conservatism. I was not interested in the defense of traditional Catholicism but in change for women. Researching feminism took me several times on research trips—for months at a time—to the libraries and universities of these three countries. My research on feminism also let me appreciate how important was also the period of transformations taking place in the last quarter of the twentieth century while I was writing on feminism. A second and third generation of Latin American women activists were reaping the fruit of the activities of the first generation of feminists I was studying, but they were also questioning it. As more countries in Latin America attempted to answer the enormous social and economic problems posed by fast-growing populations under often unstable political regimes, the changing roles of women, now fully incorporated into politics, the labor force, and the educational system, raised many questions on the social issues the first-generation “feminism” had not foreseen, let alone solved. After the publication of my book, I wrote several essays on the changing forms of feminism in Latin America up to the late years of the twentieth century, one hundred years after the ideology was first introduced in the continent. They made sense as sequels to my interest in the emergence of feminism. Until the early 2000s, I helped edit international publications on women and Latin American women specifically, and saw my book on feminism translated and read in Spanish America. Feminism and change in the early twentieth century was a fulfilling project that invigorated my career as a historian for two decades. 472 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR Returning to the Nuns: Spirituality in the Writings of Cloistered Women Publishing on feminism was a rewarding experience, but I began to miss my first love: cloistered women. I suppose it was the result of that desire for contrasts and alternative realities that has sustained my interest in history since I became a historian. In 1995 Mexicans observed the three hundredth anniversary of the death of that great seventeenth-century woman of letters, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. Conferences and publications on the occasion were only a part of what was developing as a large research field on nuns and convents in the viceroyalty. I returned to my old pastures with the confidence of someone who really never left—as I stated before. While literary analyses of Sor Juana’s writings will remain a fixed item in cultural history, historically, there are limitations to anything “new” being discovered on Sor Juana’s life owing to institutional and personal boundaries set by her state in life. On the other hand, since the late 1990s history has yielded fascinating information on the “lives and times” of other nuns. A new cohort of literary historians and social and feminist historians began to dig into archival sources to reveal a new world of institutional and personal data on nuns’ lives, most of them having been ignored throughout history. This new interest was a “continental” happening all throughout Spanish America, which made the field more universally appealing than it was before. Nuns’ history was also women’s history! By the late 1990s, trends in European church history discussing the role of women in the church since the early Middle Ages through the twentieth century supported and inspired research elsewhere and found an attentive ear in Latin America and Spain. On numerous occasion, I turned to books published on European nuns as intellectual sources. In 1993, before the celebratory observances of Sor Juana’s death, and even before the publication of my book on feminism, I published an article on religious life as a feminine experience. Sor Juana would remain a “sun” in Mexican cultural history but I would study other nuns: the planetary system rather than the sun. My return to the nuns had a demanding objective: to consolidate my research and write the monograph I should have published much earlier on some of the key issues in the history of nuns and nunneries. I returned to church history as a mature historian without regrets. I had achieved my ambition of writing women’s history beyond a period and a country. Returning to the cloisters, however, also meant a change in my approach. The in-depth views of financial administration that I had cultivated at the beginning of my career were no longer my focus. With a larger number of practicing historians engaged in the study of nunneries in the key cities of ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 473 the country, the field had changed significantly. Writers and readers wished to have a deeper look into the intimate scenario inside of the cloisters by focusing on nuns as real women, carrying out daily routines in liturgy, and shaping their personal lives to the rules of their Orders and the demands of their own spiritual goals. There was also a renewed awareness of the reality of the nunnery in its institutional connections with society. I had new marching orders. No more accounts or investments; rather, I needed more information on personal spiritual development and social issues. I began with the latter, writing an article on the foundation of nunneries for Indian women as a meaningful change in social attitudes, as well as a reckoning of colonial elites and the Church with its own debt towards indigenous peoples. The Indian nunneries encountered some internal problems caused by an insensitive Commissary General, but, in general, society welcomed them and their numbers increased to three nunneries by the end of the colonial period. As for my plans to engage again with nunneries, I found myself more strongly attracted to the spiritual issues in nuns’ lives as seen through their writings. My friends in literary studies were very influential in directing me to those sources. Doubtless, Saint Teresa of Avila’s writings and their extensive circulation set in motion a great change in women’s spiritual literature that encouraged nuns in Spain and elsewhere in Europe to confide their inner life to paper, and to write poetry, theater, and spiritual treatises. Prompted by spiritual advisors, many nuns wrote extensive diaries. This quiet revolution found some echoes in the transatlantic colonies. Apart from the already mentioned Sor Juana, a good number of nuns engaged in writing. They helped to write the histories of their convents, wrote devotional works, some poetry, and about themselves in “diaries” where they poured out their religious doubts and hopes. In Spanish America and, specifically in Mexico, most of those materials had remained unused by lack of interest or understanding, and also because they were overshadowed by the blinding light of Sor Juana’s writings. When I began my own personal re-entry into some of those personal letters and diaries, I understood why I had been unprepared to cope with them when I was younger. One needs life experience to understand the pathos in some nuns’ lives and writings. Their struggle to understand and achieve their own spiritual goals was life-consuming and totally disconnected from the engagements of daily life. As a modern reader, I became aware of the distance between contemporary spirituality and that practiced centuries before, when human shortcomings were overemphasized and suffering was regarded as the privileged pathway to grace. Of course, the consolation of devotional life was always at hand to balance the outcome, 474 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR but the personal struggle was real and revealing. Reading examples of that permanent conflict can be emotionally draining, but it is a necessary exercise for anyone attempting to reconstruct these women’s lives. These documents also convey evidence that “interiority,” a mark of male spiritual writers in Spain, was very much part of the Catholic ethos there and elsewhere in the Catholic world, and that, as such, it included women. After Saint Teresa made interiority her own, she passed it on as her heritage to women religious. In Mexico her writings were very popular in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and strongly influenced the output of writing nuns. I began to publish on some of these manuscripts and analyze them as testimonies of the tortured but rich spiritual life of a small group of nuns. Required by their confessors and spiritual directors, writing about their spiritual life took precious moments of their busy life. They were not “literary” pieces but a means of spiritual self-discovery via communication with a spiritual director and, above all, with God. As one of them wrote, writing about her interiority was like writing about the kingdom of God because God was inside herself. Their sometimes-tortured nature doesn’t make the reading “easy,” but they are of indisputable importance for learning about the meaning of religion and faith for these women. These writings galvanized my attention and desire to incorporate the literary production either written by religious women or addressed to them as an essential component of their “social” and personal history and the cultural life of the viceroyalty. The writings by nuns absorbed my attention with the same intensity that conventual financial affairs had in my early research. In 2002 and 2006 respectively, and before the publication of The Brides of Christ, I coedited two books with my Mexican colleague, Rosalva Loreto-López, on the writings of nuns in Mexico and Spanish America: Monjas y beatas: La escritura femenina en la espiritualidad barroca novohispana: Siglos XVII y XVIII (2002), and Diálogos espirituales: Manuscritos femeninos hispanoamericanos (2006). The first focused on Mexico and introduced autobiographies, spiritual diaries, and letters in several essays. The second one included extensive excerpts from the writings of nuns in Ecuador, Peru, Chile, Argentina, and Mexico, preceded by introductory comments. This semi-anthological work intended to make such writings accessible to a broad readership and was our best effort to bring together literary and historical attention to a topic that was in need of full international recognition as part of the Spanish American cultural legacy. My monograph, Brides of Christ: Conventual in Colonial Mexico, was published in 2008. It was a fusion of institutional and personal history ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 475 accessible to students and general readers interested in the unique experience of cloistered women, a way of life that had taken a steep decline from the nineteenth century, but which had possessed relevance as an aspirational way of life for women for centuries. Nuns are still ubiquitous in Latin America as they engage in education and social issues, and their history has become a subject of interest, not only among younger historians, but among a sector of the population educated in traditional values. In my book I attempted to present nuns as real women and not cardboard stereotypes. I followed novices in their decision to take the veil, and the meaning of a choice in religious life. It was then a mark of social elitism. Admission to the convents was only accessible to women of Spanish descent, of legitimate birth, and with a prescribed dowry. The latter could be donated by a patron, and legitimacy was only breached occasionally in favor of daughters born out of “mistakes” by their otherwise acceptable parents. However, racial deviations or lack of “cleanliness” of blood was never tolerated. As a result, nuns were a set of special women and certainly not representative of the lifestyle of the majority of their sex. However, it is the very privilege of their social position that has made it possible to access a sampler of “women’s” experiences in a period where most women remained anonymous. As historians, we understand that nuns did not represent all womanhood, but even through the filter of race and class they are a universe of women’s experience worth discovering and understanding. Within the convent, the nuns’ individual experiences were pitted against the restrictions of a life structured to meet the sometimes-conflicting objectives of spirituality and the material realities of institutional living. In addition to information on daily life and hierarchical organization, I was keen on including specificity on the spiritual meanings of religious life by focusing on the solemn vows, the love of God, and devotional practices, such as those addressed to Christ, the Virgin Mary, and the Sacred Heart. The vows were the pillars of conventual life, and the devotional universe amplified the foundation of commitment the vows represented. The devotional practices carried out within the convent reflected those outside its walls. In fact, they nourished each other. There was a robust exchange of devotional practices that strengthened the role of convents as magnets of popular religiosity. Despite enclosure, the porosity of the convent resulted in “devotion” to some nuns of known spirituality who, from behind the covered grilles, administered advice to anguished seculars. These themes were counterbalanced by chapters on sickness and death, a reminder of their humanity but also informative about sickness, medical practices, and the spiritual meaning of the end of life. 476 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR Another topic included in the book was that of “sexuality” which was not often associated with cloistered women. As Inquisition records show, nuns were the subject of sexual harassment. While this issue had been the subject of historical research in Europe, it had not really been discussed by other historians in my field. This “delicate” topic was yet another form of understanding the humanity of these women and the reaction of their prelates as keepers of their virtue as brides of Christ. “Courting” nuns was a social sport for some men in courtly Spain in the seventeenth century, and while such activities did not take that turn in Mexico, it was imperative to understand the circumstances and outcome of known cases, especially because they cast light beyond the nuns on the transgressing members of the clergy, and on the role of the Inquisition in facing and attempting to solve this challenging situation. Another outcome of the new research on nuns was a greater focus on the ties between the personal and the institutional. Of special interest to me was a well-known incident of confrontation between nuns and their bishops throughout the 1770s, triggered by the bishops’ demands that the nuns return to a “common life” style of living and abandon their use of private cells and servants. I understood this situation as a gender issue, a power struggle between the will of men to redirect women’s practices according to their own view and interpretation, and that of the nuns who wished to preserve their traditional form of observance. The roots of this confrontational situation are traceable to the literature on spiritual advice to nuns. Written by men who defined religious women’s daily lives and spiritual progress, the small cadre of prelates who decided to reform Mexican nunneries were pitting reformation of observance against their own understanding of a “relaxed” observance. They did not expect a vigorous opposition by a good number of nuns, and while in the end time saw a slow relaxation of the so-called vida común, this was an important chapter in the history of nunneries insofar as it saw the expression of direct dissent as an exercise of “free will” against “obedience.” A last chapter on the nuns’ writings synthesized what I had learned up to that point from unpublished manuscripts, and enticed me to pursue further inquiries on this topic later on in my research. I am happy to report that I have joined an academic community that has borne witness to a very satisfying growth of studies of cloistered communities in Spain and the Spanish-speaking world in the first two decades of this century. My latest attempt to broaden this field is a manuscript—finished but as yet unpublished—coedited again with my colleague Loreto-López: the transcription and annotation of writings specifically addressed to celebrate, inspire, and ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 477 entertain religious women within the convents of the Spanish-speaking world. These writings underline the “theatrical nature” of many of those writings, some of which were, in fact, scripts for stage representation inside the convent. In Mexico, we have so far found only one theater script written by a nun, whereas in Spain there were several nun playwrights in the seventeenth century. Mexico was a “colony” where some innovations took time to arrive or were simply repressed by overzealous prelates. Whether or not these writings were written by nuns or not, their ultimate value resides in being written for, being read by, and being performed by women religious. Some examples of a rather “secular” nature of theatre for performance in the convents are already known and they have “surprised” many who are unacquainted with the rich and often contradictory expressions of entertainment in the convents. We chose to highlight those dedicated to celebrate occasions of a religious nature, such as profession, celebration of the nativity, or funeral services. When the nuns got together to celebrate the liturgy, to read poems celebrating a sister’s birthday, to sing in the choir in honor of a new professant, or to perform a theatrical composition celebrating a profession or a religious feast, they were celebrating sisterhood as a form of spiritual agape. A Turn to Men and the Mendicants The metaphor of searching for new paths and walking on new grounds still applies to my work and to myself as a historian. If serendipity determined my original choice, the determination to find new challenges seems to describe my latter years and my current writing. Exploring the mendicant orders and the lives of men was a new path I decided to follow beginning as early as fifteen years ago. Women in cloisters were in continuous contact with their male ecclesiastical prelates and even secular men, such as administrators, legal advisors, and patrons. I had met those men “governing” and surveying the affairs of nuns as high prelates, confessors, spiritual advisers, and preachers in their churches. Some of them were in almost intimate terms with their advisees, reading their letters and diaries, encouraging or questioning their religious vocation and experiences. The lives of men of the cloth were intertwined with those of nuns, but only in ways that did not impinge on their own chosen path and allowed them to retain their own idiosyncrasy. Men had the freedom to move and travel, write, talk, and emit opinions on all topics, from theology to the juridical system of the land. They could oversee nuns’ lives whereas the contrary was never possible. The issue of how biological sex and socially defined gender roles determined people’s lives was never quite so starkly delineated for me as when I began to study men. 478 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR The incentive of writing something on “men’s studies” led me to apply for a Guggenheim Fellowship to study “masculinity” among the “men of God.” The grant gave me the initial impulse and seed money to pursue what I began calling “the other side of the moon.” For the last ten years I have been reading, writing, and publishing intermittently on personalities and issues of the Franciscan, Augustinian, and Dominican orders in Mexico between 1550 and 1800. I chose three orders to enable me to find their similarities more than their differences and have a meaningful overview of masculinity irrespective of affiliation. Men in these orders shared a general understanding of their position within the Church at large, and their observance had many points in common. In Spanish American history, they shared evangelizing objectives and experienced similar challenges in that task. The three orders dedicated their best men to preach, counsel the lay and the religious, write chronicles and theological and devotional works, teach their own students and even instruct those in higher educational institutions. They also faced similar encounters with secular authorities in their daily interactions, especially as it pertained to their evangelizing mission and indigenous communities. Turning to men religious, after I reached a certain level of proficiency in women, entailed a steep learning curve. In 2004 I published an essay comparing the concepts of masculinity and femininity implicit in the codes of behavior of members of the religious orders. It was an exploratory piece that allowed me to put my first thoughts in order. But the project had to wait. In 2008, the same year I published Brides of Christ, I lost my husband to cancer, an unexpected blow that drained my intellect and my heart for nearly two years. I retired from active teaching and after some struggle succeeded in reshaping my life as an independent scholar by forging into the new research project on mendicants and masculinity, and continued to study nuns’ writings. In 2014, I gave a formal public lecture on the new approaches to the study of mendicants from the perspective of masculinity studies at the Mexican Academy of History as my inaugural reception speech as a corresponding member. I have also lectured on the topic at the Pontificia Universidad Católica in Lima, Peru, and the University of San Francisco in Quito as a guest lecturer, as well as a few other presentations at historical meetings in the U.S. These public lectures remind me of the times when I was “breaking arms” (rompiendo armas), as we say in Spanish, for women’s history. Masculinity Studies are certainly well established in academia by now, but as I have corroborated, in Latin America they are focused on contemporary sociological issues rather than on historical studies. What I am trying to do is to invite the curiosity of my colleagues to the study of masculinity in general in the period prior to 1800. I have chosen ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 479 men of the cloth because the Church is familiar to me and, frankly, because others in my field have not considered them to be subjects within the realms of “masculinity.” Of course, I disagree. The mendicant orders had an extraordinary presence in the sixteenth century as the ushers of conversion among the indigenous peoples, and remained central to the religious care of urban and rural populations for two more centuries. Their robes were seen in the farthest geographical frontiers and their voices were essential to sustain the pulse of living catechesis in the viceroyalty. The secular church could not have maintained its mission without them. For this project I am focusing on the personal experience of friars as men. I am not interested in institutional history or economic history. Based on what I have written so far, I begin with the assumption that masculinity is a social construct that begins in childhood. I see the potential friar as a child receiving the social and intellectual skills demanded from a boy to be recognized as a “man in progress” in his society, learning how to behave as a man in his society before making a choice to enter a convent as one of the options he had in life. Entering a convent as an adolescent or a young man, the novice apprentice faced the challenges of the novitiate, which was more than a training in religion—it was a training in the social and personal understanding of a special form of manhood required by the Church. The novice renounced some expressions of secular masculinity and embraced others defined as the only ones valid and appropriate for his chosen state. Physical virility was not the test of a friar’s masculinity. A man of the cloth found masculinity in, among other variants, the renunciation of the flesh, the observance of duty to his faith, and the commitment to his order and its charisma. He exercised it through preaching and missionary activity, spiritual counseling, and scholarly pursuits in the service of church and faith. As “a man of God,” a full-fledged friar would face many challenges, but his authority was based on the special powers he gained as a representative of God before the faithful. In the specific theater of sixteenth century Spanish American society, friars as a group were given special rights they had never before possessed to engage in the conversion of the indigenous population. For at least two centuries, they could also missionize among the general population, acting as confessors, teachers, and authors. They had to engage in many political maneuvers with the secular church and the royal bureaucrats to retain a grip on their role as missionaries and mediators between the laity and God. The engagement of friars with other men of the church, as well as seculars in the social and political arena, created numerous conflicts. There is no end to the story of conflict within and outside of the Church. However, facing secular men, friars, as members of the Church, were fully equipped with a set of spiritual and intellectual arms 480 HISTORIAN WITH A DOUBLE MAJOR that placed them in a special niche above most of them. There was no superior over them except God when they officiated before the altar. Theirs was a powerful voice when they advised from the confessional or the pulpit. That was masculine power and theirs was a special form of masculinity that should not be overlooked. Power, however, was not necessarily what friars had in mind all the time. Even priors and prelates who exercised power within their orders had obligations higher than political pursuits, and had to contend with other duties imposed by their membership in the Church. To capture their experience as men, one must survey what was specific to their special form of manhood. It is a complex task with many possibilities that historians must evaluate carefully in order to draw a reliable picture. I follow the friars in several chosen aspects of their lives after their childhood, as novices, as lay brothers, as transgressors of the vow of chastity, as martyrs, as missionaries in the middle and late years of the viceroyalty, as observers of nature in their frequent travels, and at their deaths. Their experience as men is larger than my chosen topics, but what remains to be done is a task for several historians. Conclusion In retrospect, developing a career as a historian was not an easy exercise for me. As I stated, I began on my own as a researcher and a writer. I was a full-time mother and wife in an academic world that was in the “process” of opening doors to women. My strategy was to write and try to publish frequently, to attend national and international conferences, to present papers, to find grants to underwrite my travel to archives, and to accept part-time positions in departments that needed replacements for their mostly male professors on sabbatical. I rephrased the 1960s series “Have gun: will travel” into “Have history: will travel.” After traveling to several part-time jobs, I had my first “secure” position at Howard University, close to my husband’s workplace, and I stayed as a member of the faculty for nearly two decades, taking several academic absences on scholarship. I learned a lot about teaching there, but my move to Arizona State University in 1995 enabled me to devote all my teaching and research time to my own personal interests and to participate more fully and personally in doctoral programs with graduate students. While there, I also fulfilled one of my ambitions: to host summer programs for history teachers at the secondary and college levels for the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH). Co-directing with my colleague Lynn Stoner, I hosted two projects: “Converging Cultures: Native America, Europe and the ASUNCIÓN LAVRIN 481 Encounter” in 2000 for high school teachers, and “Hispanic Gendering of the Americas: Beyond Cultural and Geographical Boundaries” in 2002 for college teachers. The latter was the first ever interdisciplinary application dedicated to Latin American women at the NEH, and it surveyed women and feminine issues in literature, cinema, the arts, and history, bringing academic specialists, as well as Latin American women writers and activists, to talk to our grantees. It was one of the most pleasing chapters in my career. I have written in English and in Spanish, the latter with an eye on my readers in Latin America, and in the final tally of books, chapters in books, and articles in journals both languages come very close in numbers with a slight majority for Spanish. For twenty-five years I was in charge of the section on Mexico for the Handbook of Latin American Studies, using the Library of Congress Hispanic Division as my base and in collaboration with my colleague Edith Couturier. The Handbook is an annotated bibliography of all major books and articles published on Latin America, and a great professional service to all historians in the field. I became a fixture at the Hispanic Division of the Library of Congress. It had the warmth of a place where staff and other collaborators felt part of a large convivial family. One of the benefits of that service was to get access to the stalls, find books directly, and even borrow some of them. One could keep the copies of all the articles one reviews (not the books, though!). It was a privilege to be a member of the team and one of my fondest memories. I am a member of the Mexican Academy of History and was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences in 2019. I also received the Distinguished Service Award from the Conference on Latin American History in 2009, and the Distinguished Scholarship Award from the American Historical Association in 2015. In 2016 The Rocky Mountain Council on Latin American Studies established the annual BandelierLavrin Prize for the best published work on Colonial Latin American History to honor pioneering efforts in the field of history. I am deeply humbled and honored by these awards, especially when I remember how my face muscles ached when I first had to speak English all day long! I think that my main contribution to history has been to write extensively in Spanish and English on women in general and women in the Church in particular, for a continental body of female readers who were ready to learn about their own history and begin writing on it. It has been a fulfilling journey, even though it started with a good dosage of serendipity. Cathar “Time-Focused Dualism”—An Argument for the Eastern Origins of Catharism PIOTR CZARNECKI* The starting point of this article is the conception of Bernard Hamilton from 1974 assuming that the Bogomil Church of Drugunthia was formed under Paulician influence. Its radically dualistic doctrine was later accepted by some Cathars1 described in the sources as belonging to the Drugunthian order (ordo Drugonthiae). The article attempts to verify this concept through doctrinal analysis, and to answer the question whether distinctive features of the Paulician doctrine can be found in the teachings of the Cathars of the Drugunthian order. Analysis of sources of various provenance—polemical, inquisitorial and Cathar (the so called “Manichaean Treatise”)—show clearly that traces of specific Paulician “time-focused dualism” can be found in Cathar teachings, which confirms Hamilton’s conception and is an important argument for the Eastern origins of Catharism. Keywords: Catharism, Manichaean Treatise Paulicianism, Medieval Dualism, B ritish historian Bernard Hamilton in his article published in 1974 showed that the Bogomil Church of Drugunthia was formed in the twelfth century under Paulician influence and that it professed radical dualism of two principles.2 This church played a crucial role in the history * Mr. Piotr Czarnecki is an assistant professor in the Institute for the Study of Religions, Jagiellonian University, Krakow, Poland. His email address is piotr.czarnecki@uj.edu.pl 1. Although the use of the name “Cathars” is nowadays criticized by the deconstructionist scholars, I use it deliberately because this name, introduced in 1163 by the German abbot Eckbert of Schönau, [see: Eckbertus Abbas Schonaugensis, Sermones contra catharos, ed. Jacques-Paul. Migne, Patrologia Latina (hereafter cited as PL), 221 vols., CXCV (Paris, 1855), col. 13] was commonly used by the Catholic authors to describe medieval Western dualists. Also the adherents of this heresy, although they called themselves simply “Christians,” were aware of this name. Considering this, there is no need to abandon the name “Cathars” or “Catharism” because such a revolution can only lead to chaos. 2. Bernard Hamilton, “The origins of the Dualist Church of Drugunthia,” in: Monastic Reform, Catharism and the Crusades, ed. Bernard Hamilton, (London, 1997), 115–24. Radical (or absolute) dualism is a form of dualist doctrine in which there are two eternal principles— 482 PIOTR CZARNECKI 483 of medieval dualism. Rainer Sacchoni—a former Cathar perfect (for seventeen years)—based on his insider knowledge, mentioned two Bogomil churches, that of Bulgaria and that of Drugunthia, claiming that all the existing dualist churches in the middle of the thirteenth century (when his summa was written) originated from one of them.3 Other sources also confirm his words, underlining the importance of the Drugunthian church in the formation of Catharism. First of all, the Bogomil Bishop of Constantinople, Nicetas (in the sources called “papa”), who in 1167 presided over a Cathar Council at Saint-Felix-De-Caraman in the south of contemporary France, had been ordained by Simon, the first Bishop of Drugunthia, and belonged to the Drugunthian order (ordo), as we can read in the Italian sources.4 They mention Nicetas’ visit to Italy (on his way to Saint-Felix), during which he tried to convert Mark—the leader of Italian Cathars who until that time belonged to the Bulgarian order (ordo Bulgariae)—into the Drugunthian order.5 According to the traditional interpretation, during the Saint-Felix council, Nicetas, who there played the role of the highest authority (kind of a heretical pope), converted western dualists (until then professing moderated Bulgarian dualism) to the radical Drugunthian dual- equally powerful gods—good and evil, and wherein each of them has power of creation, and over his own creation. In the moderate dualism the good God is only one, and he is the creator of everything, because only he has the power of creation from nothing (ex nihilo). Satan in this type of dualism is only the creature of God, a rebellious angel. The difference between this conception and the Catholic one lies in the fact that Satan is the maker (factor) of the visible world, which means that he forms it from already existing matter created previously by God, the sole true creator. 3. Rainer Sacchoni, “Summa de Catharis et Pauperibus de Lugduno,” ed. Antoine Dondaine, in: Un Traité Neo-Manicheen du 13 siècle, Le Liber de duobus principiis suivi d’un fragment de Rituel Cathare (Rome, 1939), 64–78 here 70: “. . . Ecclesia Bulgariae et Ecclesia Drugunthiae. Et omnes habuerunt originem de duabus ultimis.” 4. On Simon Bishop of Drugunthia see: Hamilton, “The Origins of the Dualist Church of Drugunthia,” 119; Janet Hamilton, Bernard Hamilton, and Yuri Stoyanov, Christian Dualist Heresies in the Byzantine World c. 650–c.1450 (Manchester, 2013), 44; Antoine Dondaine, ed., “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 19 (1949), 306– 12, here 306. As to the date of this council, the majority of scholars accepted the year 1167, more on this issue see: David Zbiral, Pokřtěni ohněm: Katarské křesťanství ve světle dobových pramenů (12.–14. století) (Prague, 2019), 99–106. Alternative propositions placing the council in the 1170s were proposed by Antoine Dondaine and Bernard Hamilton, see: Antoine Dondaine, “La hiérarchie cathare en Italie II,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, 20 (1950), 234–324, here 268; Bernard Hamilton, “The Cathar Council of Saint-Felix Reconsidered,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, 48 (1978), 23–53, here 29–30. 5. “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” 306: “Et iste marcus habebat ordinem suum de bulgaria. Adveniens quidem papasnicheta nomine, de constantinopolitanis partibus in lombardiam, cepit causari ordinem bulgarie, quem marcus habebat. Unde marcus epipscopus cum suis subditis hesitare incipiens, relicto ordine bulgarie, suscepit ab ipso nicheta ordinem drugonthie.” 484 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” FIGURE 1. Half-believers,” or Bogomils of medieval Serbia, in a fresco from the Church of St. Ahilija in Arilje, Serbia. Image is in the public domain. ism.6 Unfortunately, the account of this council provides no information that could confirm it directly. The source mentions only that Nicetas consoled and ordained the Cathars from France and Italy, including those who had already accepted the sacrament of consolamentum and those who were already bishops.7 In consequence the traditional conception, assuming the doctrinal shift that took place in Saint-Felix, became an object of fierce criticism, exactly like the council itself, which was the crucial proof for the eastern (Bogomil) origins of Catharism. At the beginning of the twenty-first century many scholars tried to prove that the Saint-Felix council did not actually take place, and its 6. Antoine Dondaine, “Les actes du Concile Albigeois de Saint-Félix de Caraman. Essai de critique d’authenticité d’un document medieval,” in: Miscellanea Giovani Mercati (Vatican City, 1946), V, 324–55; Dondaine, “La hiérarchie cathare en Italie II,” 284–85; René Nelli, La Philosophie du Catharisme. Le dualisme radical au XIIIe siècle (Paris, 1978), 67– 69; Hamilton, “The Cathar Council of Saint-Felix Reconsidered,” 25–40; Malcolm Lambert, The Cathars (Oxford, 1998), 56–57. 7. For more about the source, see: David Zbiral, “Édition critique de la Charte de Niquinta selon les trois versions connues,” in: 1209–2009 Cathares: une histoire à pacifier?, ed. Anne Brenon (Loubatieres, 2010), 45–52, here 47. PIOTR CZARNECKI 485 account is only an early modern (or at best medieval) forgery.8 These critics did not even attempt to discuss the arguments presented by Hamilton, which are hard to refute as they are based on solid source material, proving that the church of Drugunthia professed radical dualism and that this dualism appeared in Bogomilism under Paulician influence. As the Eastern sources do not mention radically dualistic options of Bogomilism, it was necessary to focus on the Western materials presenting the faith of the Cathars belonging to the Drugunthian order. It must be strongly underlined that all the sources mentioning Cathars of ordo Drugonthiae confirm that they professed radical dualism of two eternal and independent principles, as it is in the case of the Italian De heresi catharorum in Lombardia, written at the beginning of the thirteenth century.9 Its anonymous author also says that the leaders of this group sent their candidate to the bishopric to Drugunthia for ordination.10 Another argument for the radically dualistic character of the church of Drugunthia (and also for the authenticity of the account of Saint Felix) is the fact that the French sources written after the council confirm that the majority of French Cathars professed radical dualism. Paulician origins of the church of Drugunthia, as considered by Hamilton, are another impor8. In 1999 Monique Zerner organized a conference entitled Revisiter l’heresie meridionale: le suppose concile cathare de Saint-Félix 1167. Its materials were published in 2001 in the volume Histoire du catharisme en discussion. Zerner argued that the account of Saint-Felix is a seventeenth-century forgery, see: Monique Zerner, “La charte de Niquinta, l’hérésie et l’érudition des années 1650–1660,” in: L’Histoire du catharisme en discussion. Le “concile” de SaintFélix 1167, ed. Monique Zerner (Nice, 2001), 203–48; “Compte rendu des interventions de M. Zerner, J-L. Biget et J. Chiffoleau,” in: L’Histoire du catharisme en discussion, 39–40. An earlier similar opinion was formed by Yves Dossat, “A propos du concile de St-Félix: Les Milingues,” Cahiers de Fanjeaux, 3 (1968), 201–14, here 207–08. According to Jean-Louis Biget the acts of Saint-Felix are a medieval forgery, see: Jean-Louis Biget, “Un faux du XIIIe siècle? Examen d’une hypothèse,” in: L’Histoire du catharisme en discussion, 125–33. Formal analysis of the document undertaken by specialists from the Institut de recherche et d’histoire des textes excluded the possibility of forgery, see: Jacques Dalarun et al., “La’charte de Niquinta’, analyse formelle,” in: L’Histoire du catharisme en discussion, 135–202. According to a hypothesis formulated by David Zbiral, the document is a fundatory legend created by the Cathars, see: David Zbiral, “La Charte de Niquinta et le rassemblement de Saint-Félix: État de la question,” in 1209–2009 Cathares: une histoire à pacifier?, 31–44. 9. “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” 308: “Marchisius de Soiano episcopus illorum de descenzano et amezo eius filius maior, prelati unius partis Catharorum, qui habent ordinem suum de drugonthia, credunt et predicant duos deos sive dominos sine principio et sine fine, unum bonum et alterum malum penitus.” 10. Ibid.: “. . . quidam de Diszennzano, facta congregatione elegerunt quendam sibi episcopum nomine Johannem Bellum, et eum miserunt ultra mare in drugonthiam ut ibi ordinaretur episcopus.” 486 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” tant argument for its radically dualistic character, as it is commonly known that the Paulicians believed in two principles. The British scholar presents many convincing arguments to confirm his thesis that the Bogomil church of Drugunthia was formed under Paulician influence. First was the location of Drugunthia, near Philippopolis, a fortress in which the Paulicians were settled in 975 by the Byzantine Emperor John Tzimiskes.11 Anna Comnena convincingly argues that this could be the place where Bogomil ideas mixed with radically dualistic Paulician theology. In the Alexiad, she writes that almost all the inhabitants of this city were “Manichaeans”— Paulicians or Bogomils—who were very active in spreading their heresies.12 Unfortunately these valuable and convincing source arguments presented by Hamilton did not become a starting point of new research, due to the fact that the classical interpretation assuming Eastern roots of Catharism (promoted since the 1950s by Antoine Dondaine)13 was overshadowed by the alternative one proposed by Raffaello Morghen, according to which Catharism appeared independently in Western Europe as an evangelical movement trying to restore primitive Christianity.14 These 11. For more on the location of Drugunthia, see: Dimitri Obolensky, The Bogomils (Cambridge, 1948), 158–62; Hamilton, “The Cathar Council of Saint-Felix Reconsidered,” 37–38; Hamilton, “The origins of the Dualist Church of Drugunthia,” 116; Milan Loos, Dualist Heresy in the Middle-Ages (Prague, 1974), 128. 12. Anna Comnena, The Alexiad, 14.8.3, trans. Edgar Robert Ashton Sewter (London, 2003), 463–64. See also Janet Hamilton and Bernard Hamilton, Christian Dualist Heresies, 169. 13. Dondaine developed the conception assuming eastern roots of Catharism, which existed since the nineteenth century (since Charles Schmidt), see: Antoine Dondaine, “L’origine de l’hérésie médiévale. A propos d’un livre recent,” Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia, 6 (1952), s. 49–59; Dondaine, “La hiérarchie cathare en Italie II,” 275–77; Charles Schmidt, Histoire et doctrine de la secte des Cathares ou Albigeois, II (Geneva, 1849), 252–70. Other established scholars also shared this view, see: Arno Borst, Die Katharer, [Schriften der Monumenta Germaniae Historica, 12], (Stuttgart, 1953), 9–98, 229–30; Christine Thouzellier, “Hérésie et croisade au XIIe siècle,” Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 49 (1954), 855–72; Lambert, The Cathars, 29–37; Alessandra Greco, Mitologia catara: il favoloso mondo delle origini (Spoleto, 2000), 90. Nowadays the idea of eastern origins of Catharism was defended by Bernard Hamilton and other scholars, see: Bernard Hamilton, “Cathar Links with the Balkans and Byzantium,” in: Cathars in Question, ed. Antonio Sennis (York, 2016), 131–50; Edina Bozoky, Le livre secret des cathares. Interrogatio Iohannis. Edition critique, traduction commentaire (Paris, 2009), 26–32, 192–202; and Theofanis Drakopoulos, L’unité de Bogomilo-Catharisme d’après quatre textes latins analysés à la lumière des sources byzantines (Geneva, 2010), 6–39, 252–62. Retrieved on November 3, 2020, from https://archive-ouverte.unige.ch/unige:12233. 14. Raffaello Morghen, Medioevo cristiano (Bari, 1951), 212–24; Raffaello Morghen, “Problèmes sur l’origine de l’hérésie au moyen âge,” in: Hérésies et sociétés dans l’Europe préindustrielle 11e–18e siècles. Communications et débats du Colloque de Royaumont 27–30 mai 1962, ed. Jacques Le Goff (Paris, 1968), 121–38. Morghen’s interpretation also found its adherents, PIOTR CZARNECKI 487 ideas were developed in the deconstructionist interpretation which dominated Cathar studies from the 1990s onwards.15 Its adherents denied the credibility of sources concerning Catharism, especially those of Catholic provenance, claiming that the image of Catharism which their opponents present is only a construct of Catholic polemicists trying to discredit their opponents. Catholic authors were blamed for inventing the eastern origins of Catharism,16 and for constructing a dualist doctrine (based on ancient anti-heretical writings, mainly those of St. Augustine) before it was formed by the Cathars themselves.17 Consequent use of this deconstructionist method led some scholars who represent the radical current of deconstructionism to the extreme conclusion that such a phenomenon as Catharism existed only as a construct of the repressive Catholic Church, and had nothing in common with reality.18 Deconstructionist interpretation, which seemed to triumph in the first decade of the twenty-first century, is now becoming the object of more and see e.g. Raoul Manselli, “Evangelisme et mythe dans la foi cathare,” Heresis, 5 (1985), 5–17; Robert Ian Moore, The formation of a persecuting society: Authority and deviance in Western Europe, 950–1250, 2nd ed. (Malden, 2007), 11–26, 64–68, 111–16 (the first edition was published in 1987); and Anne Brenon, “Les hérésies de l’an mil. Nouvelles perspectives sur les origines du catharisme,” Heresis, 24 (1995), 31–36. 15. A new methodology extremely critical towards the sources of Catholic provenance was proposed by Monique Zerner and her team, see: Monique Zerner, ed., Inventer l’hérésie? Discours polémiques et pouvoirs avant l’Inquisition (Nice, 1998). Julien Thery claims that heresy exists only as a product of clerical discourse, and in consequence modern research on heresy should focus on the deconstruction of this discourse, see: Julien Théry, “L’hérésie des bons hommes. Comment nommer la dissidence religieuse non vaudoise ni béguine en Languedoc (XIIe–début XIVe siècle)?,” Heresis, 36–37 (2002), 75–118, here 107. 16. See e.g. Jean-Louis Biget, “Les bons hommes sont-ils les fils des bogomiles? Examen critique d’une idée recue,” Slavica Occitania, 16 (2003), 133–88, here 161; Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, “Le catharisme: une origine orientale à deux tendances?,” Slavica Occitania, 16 (2003), 207–28, 225. 17. Jean-Louis Biget, “Réflexions sur “l’hérésie” dans le Midi de la France au Moyen Âge,” Heresis, 36–37 (2002), 29–74, here 39–44 and 46–51; Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, “De la participation des cathares rhénans (1163) à la notion d’hérésie générale,” Heresis, 36–37 (2002), 204–17; Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, “Catharisme ou catharismes? Variations spatiales et temporelles dans l’organisation et dans l’encadrement des communautés dites ‘cathares,’” Heresis 39 (2003), 35–62, here 38–39 and 58–60. Hilbert Chiu, “Alan of Lille’s Academic Concept of the Manichee,” Journal of Religious History, 35 (2011), 495-501; Thery, “L’hérésie des bons hommes,” 98–101. 18. This revolutionary approach is promoted by Mark Gregory Pegg, “The Paradigm of Catharism; or, the Historians’ Illusion,” in: Cathars in Question, 21–52; Mark Gregory Pegg, The Corruption of Angels: The Great Inquisition of 1245–1246 (Princeton, 2001). Very similar views are also present in the recent works of Robert Ian Moore, see: Robert Ian Moore, The War on Heresy: Faith and Power in Medieval Europe (London, 2012). 488 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” more severe criticism. The critics accuse its authors of bending the facts to support previously formed theories, selective use of sources (especially neglecting the eastern sources), and single-mindedness.19 Indeed such a criticism is reasonable, because the deconstructionist conception has not been proven; it is rather a hypothesis, based on weak foundations. What must be underlined is that the deconstructionists have not found any new sources which could revolutionize our perception of Catharism or deny the credibility of the sources concerning the Eastern roots or dualist character of this heresy. The most radical deconstructionist conceptions are based on the testimony of selected source material (in case of Mark G. Pegg, these are inquisitorial sources), from which the authors draw conclusions concerning the whole Catharism.20 Such an approach necessarily results in the image of Catharism which is limited and fragmentary. Based on the inquisitorial sources, one can reconstruct only the “low” Catharism of simple believers (credentes), who indeed were not aware of the Cathar doctrines. According to the sources, the Cathar perfects didn’t want to reveal the fullness of their teachings to them. They did it gradually, and the most controversial elements (like dualism) were reserved only for the most reliable individuals.21 Basing conclusions only on selected sources, which fit to 19. Czech scholar David Zbiral in his newest book criticizes the deconstructionist approach for its total rejection of polemical sources and for proposing false alternatives: evangelism or eastern myths. In his opinion, such an approach neglects the complexity of the phenomenon of Catharism, see: Zbiral, Pokřtěni ohněm, 85–86, 58–68. Peter Biller strongly criticized the interpretations of Pegg and Moore, underlining the fact that they base their opinions on the analysis of very limited and selected source material, from which all uncomfortable sources were excluded, especially those which confirm the contacts with the eastern dualist heresies, see: Peter Biller, “Goodbye to Catharism?,” in: Cathars in Question, 274–304. Yuri Stoyanov criticizes the total neglect of the eastern sources by the deconstructionists, claiming that without them it is impossible to draw conclusions concerning the entirety of medieval dualism, see: Yuri Stoyanov, “Pseudepigraphic and Parabiblical Narratives in Medieval Eastern Christian Dualism, and their Implications for the Study of Catharism,” in: Cathars in Question, 174–75. For more on the criticism of the deconstructionist approach see: Claire Taylor, “Looking for the ‘Good Men’ in the Languedoc: An Alternative to ‘Cathars’?,” in: Cathars in Question, 242–55; David D’Avray, “The Cathars from Non-Catholic Sources,” in: Cathars in Question, 178–83, Michel Roquebert, “Le “déconstructionnisme” et les études cathares,” in: Les Cathares devant l’Histoire. Mélanges offerts à Jean Duvernoy, ed. Martin Aurell (Cahors, 2005), 105–33. 20. See the works of Pegg mentioned in note 18. 21. The secret character of Cathar teachings is attested to by many sources between the twelfth and the fourteenth centuries, see for example: Eckbertus Abbas Schonaugensis, Sermones contra catharos, col. 18–19; Ebrardus Bethuniensis, “Trias scriptorum adversus Valdensium sectam,” ed. Marguerin De la Bigne, Maxima Bibliotheca Veterum Patrum, XXIV (Lyon, 1677), col. 1566; Ermengaudus, Contra haereticos, [PL] CCIV, 1235; Etienne de Bourbon, Anecdotes historiques, légendes et apologues, ed. Albert Lecoy de La Marche (Paris, 1877), 311; PIOTR CZARNECKI 489 previously formulated assumptions, combined with the rejection of Catholic polemical sources and disregard of the uncomfortable sources in general, means that the deconstructionists are not entitled to deny the conclusions of traditional historiography of Catharism in relation to the dualism and the origins of Catharism. Cathar dualism is confirmed not only by the Catholics, but also by the Waldensians (such as Durand of Huesca or Ermengaud of Beziers) and—most importantly—by the Cathar theological treatises, which still survive to this day: the so-called “Manichaean Treatise” written in the 1220s in France, and the Italian Liber de duobus principiis (Book of Two Principles), from the middle of the thirteenth century.22 In both cases, the Cathar authors focused on the defense of dualist doctrine with arguments based on scriptural and logical arguments. Similarly difficult (or even impossible) is the refutation of the Eastern origins of Catharism, because mentions confirming it are scattered in various independent sources from various countries and periods. In 1143, the German Premonstatensian Evervin of Steinfeld in his letter to Bernard of Clairvaux wrote that the Cathars from Cologne had told him that their faith had survived since the times of the apostles in Greece.23 Other strong arguments can be found in the account of the Saint-Felix council, and in the De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia, mentioned above, which show strong connections between the Cathars and the Bogomils in the twelfth century. This demonstrates that the Cathars professed Bogomil doctrines (as in the case of Mark, the adherent of the Bulgarian order—ordo Bulgariae—later converted by Nicetas to the Drugunthian one—ordo Drugonthiae), sent their newly elected bishops to the Eastern Bogomil churches for teachings and ordinations, and treated the Bogomil bishop of Constantinople as the Four stages of the process of Cathar teaching were described in the fourteenth century in: Bernard Gui, Manuel de l’inquisiteur, ed. Guillaume Mollat, I (Paris, 1964), 22–27. 22. Durand of Huesca was a Waldensian—one of the disciples of Peter Waldo, who converted to Catholicism in 1207. Long before his conversion, at the end of the twelfth century, he wrote an anti-Cathar treatise, see: Durand of Huesca, “Liber antiheresis,” ed. KurtVictor Selge, Die ersten Waldenser. Mit Edition des Liber Antiheresis des Durandus von Osca, II (Berlin, 1967); a second Waldensian anti-Cathar work was written at the turn of the twelfth and the thirteenth century by Durand’s friend Ermengaud of Beziers, see: Ermengaudus, Contra haereticos, [PL] CCIV, 1235–74. Liber de duobus Principiis is a theological treatise written by the Cathar author from the Italian church of Desenzano, see: Liber de duobus principiis, ed. Antoine Dondaine, in: Un Traité Neo-Manicheen du 13 siècle, 81–146. “Manichaean Treatise” will be discussed below. 23. Evervinus Steinfeldensis, Epistola CDXXXII, ad. S. Bernardum, De haereticis sui temporis, [PL] CLXXXII, 187: “Illi vero qui combusti sunt, dixerunt nobis in defensione sua, hanc haeresim usque ad haec tempora occultatam fuisse a temporibus martyrum, et permansisse in Graecia, et quibusdam aliis terris.” 490 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” highest authority in religious matters.24 Additionally, the author of the Tractatus de hereticis, written in the 1260s (probably the Italian inquisitor Anselm of Alessandria), presents a short history of medieval dualism in which the dualist ideas (according to him Manichaean) were brought from Bulgaria to Constantinople, and from there, the crusaders transported them to the West.25 This information concerning the dependence of the Cathars from Eastern dualists, contained in the Italian sources, is also confirmed in France by Durand of Huesca. In his Contra Manichaeos from the 1220s, he says openly that the Cathars are obedient to the heretics either from Bulgaria, from Greece, or from Drugunthia.26 Furthermore, the papal legate Conrad of Porto, in his 1223 letter to Pope Honorius III, says that a portion of the French Cathars were obedient to the heretical pope from Bosnia.27 Apart from the Catholic sources, which are rejected by the deconstructionists, there are also other arguments for the Eastern origins of Catharism that are difficult to refute. First are the Bogomil apocryphal writings used by the Cathars, such as Interrogatio Iohannis or the Vision of Isaiah. In the copy of Interrogatio, which survived in the archives of the inquisition in Carcassonne, we find this notice: “Hoc est secretum hereticorum de Concorezo portatum de Bulgaria, plenam erroribus et etiam falsis latinis” 24. See above, note 5. Iohannes Bellus, from Desenzano (mentioned in note 10) was not the only Cathar bishop, sent to the East, see: “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” 8: “Ipse episcopus (. . .) misit Johanni iudeo ut iret in bulgariam et compleret que continebantur in sententia, ut esset prelatus in lombardia, omnibus subesse volentibus (. . .) Item quidam de mantua cum suis sequacibus elegerunt quemdam nomine Caloiannem sibi in episcopum et, eo in Sclavenia misso, post receptionem ordinis, episcopatus officio super eos functus est. Eodem itaque modo, quidam alius, Nicola nomine, a congregatione vincentiorum electus et in Sclavania ad ordiniem recipiendum missus, post reditum ab eis, episcopus teneretur.” 25. Antoine Dondaine, ed., “Tractatus de hereticis,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, 20 (1950), 234–324, here 308: “Notandum, quod in Persia fuit quidam, qui vocabatur Manes (. . .) Et docuit in partibus Drugontie et Bulgarie et Filadelfie et multiplicata est ibi heresis, ita quod fecerunt tres episcopos: Drugontie, alius Bulgarie, alius Filadelfie. Postmodum Greci de Constantinopolim, qui sunt confines Bulgarie per tres dietas, iverunt causa mercationis illuc et reversi ad terram suam, cum multiplicaretur, ibi fecerunt episcopum, qui dicitur episcopus grecorum. Postea francigene iverunt Constantinopolim ut subiungarent terram et invenerunt istam secta, et multiplicati fecerunt episcopum, qui dicitur episcopus latinorum.(. . .) Postea francigene, qui iverant Constantinopoplim, redierunt ad propria et predicaverunt, et multiplicati constituerunt episcopum Francie. Et quia francigene seducti fuerunt primo in Constantinopoli a bulgaris, vocant per totam Franciam hereticos bulgaros.” 26. Une somme anti-cathare: le Liber contra Manicheos de Durand de Huesca, ed. Christine Thouzellier, [Spicilegium Sacrum Lovaniense, Études et Documents, 32] (Louvain, 1964), 138–39: “Nonnuli enim eorum obediunt Grecis hereticis, alii autem Bulgaris et alii Drogovetis.” 27. Archiepiscopi Rotomagensis ad suffraganeos, quibus mandatum Conradi Portuensis episcopi & A. S. L significat coveniendi senonas adversus Bartholomeum, Albigensium episcopum, in [Sacrorum Conciliorum Nova et amplissima collectio,] ed. Johannes Dominicus Mansi, XXII (Venice, 1778), col. 1204. PIOTR CZARNECKI 491 (“This is the secret of the heretics from Concorezzo, full of errors and also false Latin”).28 A second important argument for the Cathar Eastern origins can be found in many thirteenth century sources of various provenance, which use the label “Bulgars” to describe Cathars.29 Considering this abundance of evidence, it becomes clear that, in order to deny the Eastern origins of Catharism, the deconstructionist scholars must necessarily refute all the above-mentioned arguments, proving that the sources in which they appear are forgeries which in my opinion is highly improbable. It would be possible only if they proved that between the twelfth and the fourteenth century there was a Pan-European conspiracy of the Catholic authors (joined for unknown reasons by some Waldensians) aimed at discrediting the evangelical dissidents called Cathars by attributing to them dualist teachings and Eastern origins. They would also need to prove that the conspirators collaborated and exchanged information to make their accounts similar (but not identical), that they knew perfectly the Bogomil doctrines, based on which they arbitrarily constructed Cathar dualism, and finally that—to make their forgeries more credible—they wrote two theological treatises on dualism, pretending to be Cathars. Even if we accepted such an absurd hypothesis, still one question would be left unanswered: how did the Cathars get the Bogomil apocrypha? So far, the deconstructionists have made serious attempts to question the authenticity of only one source—the account of the Saint-Felix council, an attempt which nevertheless ended in failure.30 Because all the above-mentioned sources unanimously confirm the existence of intense contacts between the Cathars and the Bogomils, it seems reasonable to come back to the traditional interpretation, and, following the guidelines of Bernard Hamilton, to examine the issue of the influence of Bogomil church of Drugunthia on Catharism. The main aim is to find the answer to the questions of whether the Paulician 28. On Interrogatio Iohannis, its origins, and its use by the Cathars see: Bozoky, Le livre secret, 17–27, 176–97. On the use of the Vision of Isaiah by the Cathars, see: Antonio Acerbi, “La Visione di Isaia nelle vicende dottrinali del catarismo lombardo e provenzale,” Christianesimo nella storia, 1 (1980), 75–122. 29. “Accipite nobis vulpes parvulas, que demoliuntur vineas Domini,” ed. Bernard Delmaire, Heresis, 17 (1991), 1–15, here 11; Roberti Autissiodorensis Chronicon, ed. Oswald Holder-Egger, [Monumenta Germaniae Historica inde ab a. C. 500 usque ad a. 1500, Scriptores] (hereafter cited as [MGH SS]), XXVI, 260, 271; La chanson de la croisade albigeoise, ed. Eugene Martin Chabot, I (Paris, 1931), 10; Alberici Monachii Trium Fontium Chronicon, [MGH SS], XXIII, 944; Matthaeus Parisiensis, Chronica Maiora, [MGH SS], XXVIII, 133; Etienne de Bourbon, Anecdotes historiques, 300. 30. See: Dalarun et al., “La’charte de Niquinta’, analyse formelle,” 135–202. 492 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” FIGURE 2. The Massacre of the Paulicians (843–844), carried out at the behest of the Empress Theodora. Image is in the public domain. doctrinal conceptions could have influenced Cathar teachings through this church, and if so, what it means for the debate on the origins of Catharism. In this comparative analysis, it is necessary to focus only on the issues that distinguished the church of Drugunthia from other Bogomil communities, i.e. mainly those surrounding the radically dualistic theology and cosmology, which according to Hamilton were borrowed from Paulicianism. The Paulician doctrine is well-described in the sources written by Peter of Sicily, an official of the court of the Byzantine Emperor Basil I, who in 869 was sent with a peacekeeping mission to the Paulician fortress Tefrike, where he stayed for nine months.31 Peter describes 31. About the sources concerning Paulicians, see: Janet Hamilton and Bernard Hamilton, Christian Dualist Heresies, 5–6, 65, 92–93. Peter of Sicily wrote about his mission to Tefrike in his work, see: Petrus Siculus, Historia utilis et refutatio atque eversio haeresos Manichaeorum qui et Pauliciani dicuntur, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne, [Patrologia Graeca] (hereafter cited as [PG)], CIV (Paris, 1860), col. 1241–44, 1304. Recently the alternative conception concerning Paulicianism was proposed by Carl Stephen Dixon. See his PhD thesis, Polemics and persecution: East Romans and Paulicians c.780–880 (Nottingham, 2018), whose conclusions he repeated in the article: “Between East Rome and Armenia: Paulician Ethnogenesis c.780–850,” in: Transmitting and Circulating the Late Antique and Byzantine Worlds, ed. Mirela Ivanova and Hugh Jeffery (Leiden, 2020), 251–73. In these works Dixon tries to prove that Paulicianism was not a dualist heresy, and Peter of Sicily–the main source of our knowledge about Paulicianism—is in fact a tenth century forgery (see: Dixon, Polemics and persecution,45–77, 110–202). Dixon’s conclusions are not especially convincing for me, because they are the result of methodology placing context over the content of the source, and PIOTR CZARNECKI 493 Paulician theology and cosmology as follows: “The first mark of identification is that they confess two principles, an evil one and a good one; one who is the maker of this world and has power over it, the other has power over the world to come.”32 The Paulicians, like all the radical dualists, believed that the evil god had created the visible world and all the material beings in it, while the good one was the creator of spiritual entities and heaven.33 This general assumption is thus typical for the radically dualistic model, but the description of the two opposed gods specifically in their relations to time is distinctive for Paulicians. They underlined that the evil god is the lord of this world and present time, while the good one does not have any power in it, as he is the ruler of the future. We cannot say exactly what the Paulicians meant when they said that the good god is the lord of the future, because Peter of Sicily never explained it. We only can suppose that they had in mind either the future victory of the good god over the evil one, or his future reign when this world perishes. This characteristic of two opposed gods and their creations in their relations to time (which I call time-focused dualism) surely was an original Paulician idea, one which distinguished their doctrine from earlier radically dualistic conceptions, especially that of the Manichaeans (where we find the opposition between light and darkness, but not between present and future time).34 As Peter of Sicily shows, this specific time-dualism was based on Paulician interpretation of the Second Epistle to the Corinthians (2 Cor. 4: 3–4), where St. Paul says: “In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from the assumption that the anti-heretical sources are unreliable, because their orthodox authors tried to discredit their opponents by any means. Other contemporary scholars focusing on Paulicianism don’t share Dixon’s suspicions towards Peter of Sicily and still treat his works at face value, see for example Hristo Saldzhiev, “The Apocryphal Bulgarian Sermon of Saint John Chrysostom on the Origin of Paulicians and Manichean Dimensions of Medieval Paulician Identity,” Studia Ceranea, 10 (2020), 425–44; Teresa Wolińska, “Sergius, the Paulician Leader, in the Account by Peter of Sicily,” Studia Ceranea, 9 (2019), 123–40. Furthermore, the method used by Dixon was criticized by Yuri Stoyanov in the article, “Medieval Christian Dualist Perceptions and Conceptions of Biblical Paradise,” Studia Ceranea, 3 (2013), 149–66, here 164. Especially problematic in Dixon’s work is the fact that he bases his conception, assuming, that the Paulicians were not dualists but rather Evangelical Christians, on the Paulician sources, quoted fragmentarily by Peter of Sicily, who according to him was a tenth century forger (see: Dixon, Polemics and persecution, 134–40). 32. Petrus Siculus, Historia, [PG] CIV, 1254. For an English translation, see: Janet Hamilton and Bernard Hamilton, Christian Dualist Heresies, 72. 33. Euthymius Zigabenus, Panoplia Dogmatica, [PG] CXXX, 1199. 34. See: Saint Augustine, De haeresibus, cap. 46, in: The De Haeresibus of Saint Augustine: A Translation with an introduction and commentary, ed. Liguori Müller (Washington, 1956), 84–86. 494 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” seeing the light of the gospel. . . .”35 The god of this world mentioned here, is in the Greek original θεὸς τοῦ αἰῶνος, “the god of this age” (in Vulgate deus huius saeculi), thus the ruler of this—the present time. Let us now take a look at the western sources concerning radically dualistic Cathars belonging to the order of Drugunthia, to answer the question of whether their theological and cosmological teachings resemble Paulician doctrine—specifically, if we can find there two characteristic features of Paulician dogma: the two opposed gods described through their relations to time, and the assumption that the good god has no power in the material world. In the earliest source presenting radically dualist Cathar doctrine, written in 1163 by the German Abbot Eckbert of Schönau, we find only the typical opposition between good-evil and spirit-matter.36 The situation is different, however, in the case of the sources from southern France. A letter of Peter of Pavia (Cardinal of S. Crisogono) from 1178 presents the doctrine professed by the Cathar Bishop Bernard Raimund and his filius maior Raimund de Baimac, who were questioned in Toulouse. As the source says, they believed in two gods—the good one, who created all the invisible beings unchangeable and incorruptible, and the evil one, who created the visible.37 At the end of the twelfth century, the theologian Alan of Lille wrote that the Cathars had believed in two eternal principles: the good god, who made all the spiritual beings, and Lucifer, the creator of everything that is temporary. To confirm their doctrine, they used both biblical passages and logical arguments, claiming that if the good god is unchangeable, so too should his creation also be unchangeable.38 Similar characteristics of two opposed principles and their creations also appear in many other French 35. Petrus Siculus, Sermones adversus Manichaeos, [PG] CIV, 1307. English translation of 2 Cor. 4:3–4 taken from the New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE). Retrieved on November 4, 2020, from https://www.biblegateway.com/ passage/?search=2+Corinthians+4&version=NRSVCE. 36. Eckbertus Abbas Schonaugensis, Sermones contra catharos, col. 17. 37. Epistola Petri tituli Sancti Chrysogoni praesbyteri cardinalis, apostolicae sedis legati, is quoted by Roger of Howden, Chronica magistri Rogeri de Houedene, ed. William Stubbs, II (London, 1869), 158: “Quidam enim constanter proposuerunt se a quibusdam illorum audisse, quod duo dii existerent, alter bonus et alter malus: bonus [qui] invisibilia tantum, et ea quae mutari aut corrumpi non possunt fecisset; malus qui coelum, terram, hominem, et alia visibilia condidisset.” 38. Alanus de Insulis, De fide catholica contra Haereticos sui temporis, [PL] CCX, 308: “Aiunt haeretici temporis nostri quod duo sunt principia rerum, et principium lucis, et principium tenebrarum. Principium lucis dicunt esse Deum, a quo sunt spiritualia, videlicet animae et angeli; principium tenebrarum, Luciferum, a quo sunt temporalia.; Ibid. col. 309: His etiam rationibus opinionem suam probant haeretici: Si Deus ista visibilia fecit, aut ea incorruptibilia facere potuit, aut non; si non potuit, impotens fuit; si potuit et noluit , invidus fuit. Item: Si causa immutabilis, effectus immutabilis; sed constat ista corporalia mutabilia esse, ergo causa eorum mutabilis.” PIOTR CZARNECKI 495 sources, such as in the anonymous sermon Accipite nobis vulpes parvulas written at the beginning of the thirteenth century39 (recorded in the antiheretical work of Eberhard of Béthune40), and in the much later chronicle of the Benedictine abbot William of Nangis (died 1300) describing the teachings of the Cathars burnt in Flanders in the 1180s.41 In the works of two other authors writing in the early thirteenth century—Ralph of Coggeshall and Bernard of Fontcaude—we find that, according to the Cathars, the good god does not have any power in the material, visible world.42 Such a characteristic of two opposed principles and their creations was not exclusive to French Catharism. The Italian sources from the first half of the thirteenth century state that radical dualists from Desenzano (those who sent their first elected bishop to Drugunthia) believed that the evil god is the lord of everything evil and transient (matter), while the good god rules over everything good, eternal, and unchangeable.43 They also claimed 39. This anonymous work from Saint-Vaast d’Arras describes the beliefs of the Cathars from northern France, here called Bulgars, see: Accipite nobis vulpes parvulas, que demoliuntur vineas Domini, 12: “Asserunt autem sequentes Manicheum et ejus complices, quod Deus nichil fecerit nisi quod transitorium sit et caducum. Solem, lunam et omnia sydera et elementa IIIIor garriunt ab ipso composita qui dixerit: ‘Ascendam in celum et ponam sedem meam ad aquilonem’, etc.” 40. Ebrardus Bethuniensis, “Trias scriptorum adversus Valdensium sectam,” col. 1540: “Duos enim esse Deos dicunt. Unum Salvatorem et benignum, in quem se credere confitentur. Alterum, creatorem rerum et hominum plasmatorem, sed malignum in quem se credere non fatentur.” Ibid. col. 1541: “Sed obiiciunt illud, quod legitur in Ecclesiaste, Didici quidem omnia, opera qua fecit Deus, perseverant in perpetuum. Sed Dominus dicit in Evangelio, Celum et terra transibunt, verba autem mea non transibunt. Si ergo transibunt caelum et terra, omnipotens non fecit ea, cum ea, quae fecerit preseverent in perpetuum.” 41. William of Nangis, Chronicon, [Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France,] ed. Martin Bouquet, XX (Paris, 1840), 741: “Eodem tempore multi haeretici combusti sunt in Flandria (. . .) Hi dicebant omnia aeterna a Deo creata, corpus autem hominis et omnia transitoria a Luciabelo create. . . .” 42. Ralph of Coggeshall, Chronicon Anglicanum, [Rerum Britannicarum Medii Aevi Scriptores], ed. Joseph Stevenson, LXVI (London, 1875), 124–25: “Aiunt etiam alii qui de secretis eorum investigaverunt, quod isti non credunt Deum res humanae curare, nec aliquam dispositionem vel potentiam in terrenis creaturis exercere; sed apostatam angelum, quem et Luzabel nominant, universae creaturae corporali praesidere, et ad nutum ejus cuncta terrena disponi.” Bernardus abbas Fontis Callidi, Adversus valdensium sectam, [PL] CCIV, 836: “Blasphemant nomen Dei, dum dicunt, non creasse aut regere mundum.” 43. See: Moneta of Cremona, Adversus Catharos et Valdenses libri quinque, ed. Thomas Ricchini (Rome, 1743), 3: “Isti credunt visibilia ista et transitoria esse ab illo per creationem. E converso credunt Deum patrem Christi et Justorum esse creatorem permanentium tantum. . .”; ed. Alain Molinier, “Brevis Summula,” Annales du Midi, 22 (1910), 199–206, here 200: “. . . et hunc deum alienum esse principem totius mali, et omnium in terra pereuntium; patrem vero glorie celestis dicunt semper sine initio fuisse, et hunc dicunt principem esse totius boni et omnium rerum permanentium.” 496 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” that the good god is omnipotent only in heaven, while the evil god has full power over the material world.44 Similar views also existed in the Cathar church of the March of Treviso, which is confirmed by the Disputatio inter catholicum et paterinum hereticum, written around 1240.45 Of course in the testimonies of the above-mentioned sources we do not find an explicit reflection of the Paulician dogma which claims that the good god is the lord of the future while the evil one rules over the present time, although the two distinctive features of Paulician dualism (characteristic of the two principles through their relations to time and conviction that the good god has no power in this world) are undoubtedly present here. Of course, the existence of time-focused dualism in Catharism is not in itself proof for the Paulician origins of the Drugunthian church (and of the Cathar churches, which professed its doctrine), but it surely is an argument for such a theory. Another argument is based on the fact that these specific time connotations in the dualist teachings appear only in the sources describing the beliefs of the Cathars belonging to the Drugunthian order (ordo Drugonthiae) and are completely absent from the sources describing other doctrinal options, such as the moderately dualist ordo Bulgariae.46 All these examples surely would fail to convince the adherents of the deconstructionist interpretation as they appear in the polemical sources, which in their narrative automatically means that they were constructed by their Catholic authors. Such an assumption is, however, extremely improbable, because the Catholic authors did not know the works of Peter of Sicily, and neither could they be following the scriptures of St. Augustine (as timefocused dualism does not appear there). Even if we assume that they arbitrarily constructed time-focused dualism, one question is still left unanswered: why did they ascribe this doctrine only to the Cathars belonging to the Drugunthian order? Furthermore, the deconstructionist conception claims that the dualist doctrine constructed by Catholic authors was later copied by the others, and so the false image of Catharism became widespread. Uwe Brunn blames Eckbert of Schönau for this situation, because he was the first author to describe radically the dualistic doctrine in his 44. “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” 309: “Et dicunt quod (. . .) bonus deus omnipotens est in celesti patria et malus dominatur in tota hac mundiali machina.” 45. Ilarino Da Molino, ed., “Disputatio inter catholicum et paterinum hereticum,” Aevum, 14 (1940), 130: “Deum omnia creasse, concedo, intellige bona; sed mala et vana et transitoria et visibilia ipse non fecit, sed minor creator, scilicet lucifer et idcirco dicitur a Johanne: sine ipso factum est nihil, idest transitoria, quae nihil sunt…”; see also 128, 132. 46. See for example: Vita Haereticorum quam fecit Bonacursus, [PL] CCIV, 775-76; Moneta de Cremona, Adversus Catharos et Valdenses, 5; “De heresi Catharorum in Lombardia,” 310. PIOTR CZARNECKI 497 work, and was also the first to apply the name “Cathars” to dualistic heretics.47 The problem is that Eckbert does not mention time-focused dualism in his Sermones. All the sources and logical arguments clearly show that the Cathar time-focused dualism resembling Paulician teachings could not have been constructed by the Catholic polemicists. The final and incontestable proof for the Cathar provenience of this doctrinal conception is the fact that it appears in a source written by the Cathars—the so-called “Manichaean Treatise” or Anonymous Treatise, probably written in the 1220s and preserved in the Contra manicheos of Durand of Huesca.48 As the treatise presents a radically dualistic Cathar doctrine, some deconstructionist scholars (Biget, Chiffoleau, and Brunn) have argued that it was also forged by Catholics trying to authenticate their image of Catharism, but this hypothesis has not gained recognition among scholars due to a lack of convincing evidence.49 An anonymous Cathar author begins his treatise with a surprising declaration of faith in only one God who created heaven, earth, and everything (omnia) that exists in them.50 In another chapter entitled De omni, however, 47. Uwe Brunn, Des contestataires aux “Cathares”: Discours de réforme et propagande antihérétique dans les pays du Rhin et de la Meuse avant l’Inquisition (Paris, 2006), 160, 238–39, 316–20, 331–33, 342–48; Uwe Brunn, “Cathari, catharistae et cataphrygii. Ancetres des cathares du XII siècle,” Heresis 36–37 (2002), 183-200, here 184–85. 48. For more on the author and date of Contra manichaeos see: Christine Thouzellier, introduction to Somme anti-cathare, 31–36; Antoine Dondaine, “Durand de Huesca et la polémique anti-cathare,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, 29 (1959), 236–43; Gerhard Rottenwöhrer, Der Katharismus, 2 vols., here volume I. Quellen zum Katharismus (Bad Honnef, 1982), 84; Kurt-Victor Selge, Die ersten Waldenser, xvii; Zbiral, Pokřtěni ohněm, 183–90. About the anonymous treatise and its Cathar author (the scholars proposed William of Nevers or Bartholomew of Carcassone) see: Christine Thouzellier, Un traité cathare inédit du début du XIIIe siècle d’après le Liber contra Manicheos de Durand de Huesca (Louvain, 1961), 25– 44.. Suzanne Nelli, “L’Hérésiarque Guillaume de Nevers alias Théodoric/Thierry, un polémiste cathare,” Heresis 10 (1988), 45–50, here 46; Nelli, La Philosophie du Catharisme, 41– 48; Peter Biller, “Northern Cathars and Higher learning,” in: The Medieval Church: Universities Heresy and the Religious Life: Essays in Honour of Gordon Leff, eds. Peter Biller and Barrie Dobson (Woodbridge, 1999), 25–53, here 50. 49. Biget, “Réflexions sur ‘’hérésie,’” 40; “Compte rendu des interventions de M. Zerner, J-L. Biget et J. Chiffoleau,” 51; Uwe Brunn, “Les oraisons des heretique: De la recitation du Pater Noster, aux rituels cathares,” in: Le Pater noster au XIIe siècle: Lectures et usages, ed. Francesco Siri (Turnhout, 2015), 197–234, here 218–19; David Zbiral in his recent work presents many convincing arguments against the hypothesis assuming forgery, see: Zbiral, Pokřtěni ohněm, 179–83. 50. “Tractatus manicheorum,” ed. Christine Thouzellier, Un traité cathare, 87: “In primis itaque Deo summo ac vero, Patri omnipotenti, maxime deferimus, per quem celum, terram, mare et omnia que in eis sunt, facta fuisse legimus ac credimus, iuxta quod prophetarum confirmant testimonia, novique testamenti auctoritates plenius demonstrant.” 498 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” he presents his interpretation of the crucial word omnia, based on various biblical citations, especially on a fragment of the Book of Sirach (Sir 42, 25: “Omnia duplicia, unum contra unum”).51 According to this interpretation, the word omnia in the Bible means either everything good and eternal, or everything evil and temporary, but never both at the same time.52 In light of this explanation, the introduction to the treatise, which at first glance seems monotheistic, becomes in fact a declaration of radical dualism. As we can learn from further chapters and also the comments of Durand of Huesca in his Contra manicheos, the author of the treatise professed the doctrine of two worlds–one of two versions of radical Drugunthian dualism. The doctrine of the two worlds, which appeared at the end of the twelfth century and was presented in the earlier work of Durand of Huesca, Liber antiheresis, assumes that there are two, seemingly identical worlds inhabited by humans: the invisible world of the good God and the material world of the devil, in which we live. The similarity between them is a consequence of the fact that the devil created his world in the image of the good, invisible world of God, but as the fabric he used corruptible and transient matter.53 The Cathar author of the treatise pays special attention to the issue of two worlds: he tries to prove their existence based on various citations from Holy Scripture, and shows that the material world in which we live was not created by the good God and does not belong to Him.54 Especially note- 51. In the translation of NRSVCE this passage means: “All things come in pairs, one opposite the other.” Retrieved July 8, 2021, from https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/ ?search=Sirach+42&version=NRSVCE. Translating it more directly, it should read: “Everything is doubled, one against the other.” 52. Durand of Huesca, “Tractatus manicheorum,” 101: “Sed quoniam plures ignorant, quod Scriptura sacra omnia , nos vere dicimus, quod plerumque omnia bona tantum et spiritualia dicit, quandoque etiam mala tantum et peccata.” Ibid. 102: “Sic itaque probatur, quod omnia quandoque in divinis Scripturis eterna esse dicuntur, quandoque temporalia, et ideo hoc nomen omnia dupliciter accipitur, iuxta illud Sapientie: Omnia duplicia: unum contra unum. . . .” 53. Somme anti-cathare, ed. Thouzellier, 105: “Similiter duos mundos, duo regna, duos celos, duas terras, et sic omnia dicunt esse duplicia.” Ibid., 135–36: “Et quia post predicta nisi sunt ad dedecus Dei omnipotentis probare duo esse regna, unum diaboli et alterum Dei, intelligentes hunc mundum et omnia que videntur in eo regnum diaboli esse. . . .” Ibid., 214: “Ipsi enim credunt (. . .) diabolum fecisse omnia que sunt in hoc mundo, exceptis animabus et spiritibus qui salvantur, ad similitudinem aliarum creaturarum quas in alio seculo, ut asserunt, fecit Deus.” Ibid., 148: “. . . in hoc capitulo notaverunt heretici octo se credere fore in seculo Dei illo, que corporeis et mortalibus occulis non videntur: celum novum, terram novam. . .”; See also 152, 251; Durand of Huesca, “Liber antiheresis,” 121, 134, 137, 144, 183, 213. 54. See chapters: “De duobus seculis,” “De duobus mundis,” “De duobus regnis,” and “De celo novo et terra,” in Durand of Huesca, “Tractatus manicheorum,” 90–95. The author underlines that the kingdom of Christ is eternal and incorruptible, while the material world will be destroyed in the future, see ibid., 110. PIOTR CZARNECKI 499 worthy, however, is that the author clearly distinguishes between two opposed creations–-good and evil, invisible and visible—based on their relations to time. At the beginning, in the second chapter, he says that he will focus on another world and other creations, which are eternal and incorruptible, in opposition to this world and its creations, which are corruptible and empty, as if they arose from nothingness (de nichilo).”55 This opposition between changeable and transient material beings on one side, and the eternal, unchangeable creation of the good God on the other is the main idea of the treatise. In the next chapters—De duobus seculis (On two ages), De duobus mundis (On two worlds), De celo novo et terra (On the new Heaven and Earth), and De bonis et malis operibus (On good and evil deeds)—the author presents numerous quotations from the Bible (both the Old and the New Testaments) to prove that the works of the devil pass, while those of the good God are eternal.56 The argumentation of the author heads towards the point that seems to be the center of his conception: the identification of the material, transient being with nothingness (nihil). He presents various fragments from Holy Scripture in which the material being deprived of faith and love is described as nihil, to prove, based on a specific interpretation of the crucial prologue of St. John’s Gospel (Jn 1, 3), that nihil emerged without God (“Omnia per ipsum facta sunt et sine ipso factum est nihil”—“All things were made through him, and without him nothingness was made”).57 Considering the specific conception of omnia and the 55. Durand of Huesca, “Tractatus manicheorum,” 89: “Sed quoniam sunt plures, qui de reliquo seculo et aliis creaturis minime curent, preter hec que videntur in hoc seculo nequam, vana et corruptibilia, et prorsus sicut de nichilo veniunt in nichilum reversura, nos vere dicimus, quod aliud seculum est, et alie creature incorruptibiles et eterne, in quibus fides atque spes nostra consistit.” 56. Ibid., 98–99: “Quod vero opera mundi mala sint, Christus ipse asserit dicens: Me odit mundus, quia testimonium perhibeo quia opera eius mala sunt.” Apart from the fragment of St. John’s Gospel (John 7:7), the author also quotes other passages (John 3:19-20; John 1:9; John 3:20; John 8:34; 1 John 3:8; Sir. 14:19–20; Eph. 2:2; 2 Cor. 11:13; Eccles. 1:14; Eccles. 3:19– 20; Sir 3:19–20) to prove that this world and everything in it is temporary and ultimately will pass. Then, based on other verses (Sir. 39:21; Wis. 11:24–25; Eccles. 3:11; Eccles. 3:14; Sir. 14:21; Phil. 2:13), he proves that the works of God are good and eternal. 57. See the chapter, “De hoc nomine nichil” (in Durand of Huesca, “Tractatus manicheorum,” 102-03). The author quotes 1 Cor. 8:4: “nihil est idolum in mundo”; Isa. 40:17: “Omnes gentes quasi non sint, sic sunt coram eo, et quasi nihilum et inane reputat sunt ei”; Isa. 41:24: “Ecce vos estis ex nihilo, et opus vestrum ex eo quod non est abominatio est qui elegit vos”; Ps. 58:9: “ad nihilum deduces omnes gentes”; Ps. 14:4: “Ad nihilum deductus est in conspectu ejus malignus”; Ezek. 28:19: “nihili factus es, et non eris in perpetuum”; 1 Cor. 13:2: “Et si habuero prophetiam, et noverim mysteria omnia, et omnem scientiam: et si habuero omnem fidem ita ut montes transferam, caritatem autem non habuero, nihil sum.” At the end he concludes: (“Tractatus manicheorum,” 102): “Quia vero illud quod est in mundo, id est de mundo, nichil esse dicatur, Apostolus declarat cum dicit: Scimus quia nichil est ydolum in mundo. Et iterum. . .”; Ibid., 103: “Si 500 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” identification of nihil with the material world, it is clear that the author sets the good being (omnia bona) against the evil one (omnia mala), and the prologue of St. John’s Gospel becomes crucial Biblical proof of the existence of two opposed beings, thus of ontological dualism. Does the fact that the author bases his conception on numerous Biblical passages mean that it is the effect of his own independent exegesis, so in consequence the Cathar dualism has evangelical roots, as deconstructionists say? The sources show clearly that it’s not so. This specific ontological dualism, which in essence is the opposition between the eternal and unchangeable good being and the evil one, which through its changeability and temporality tends towards nothingness, appears as soon as at the end of the twelfth century, first in the Liber antiheresis of Durand of Huesca, and then in the summa of Alan of Lille. Both sources show that, at that time, the Cathars based their dualism on the prologue of St. John’s Gospel, identifying nihil with the material world.58 The conclusion is obvious: the Cathar author of the anonymous treatise did not invent ontological dualism, he only developed the idea, which had existed in the Drugunthian option of Catharism since the end of the twelfth century. In the light of these source testimonies, the interpretations of such scholars as Jean Duvernoy, René Nelli, or Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, who search for the inspirations of ontological dualism of the treatise in the works of St. Augustine (precisely his conception of evil as privatio boni) seem to be unconvincing.59 Such an interpretation is unjustified also because the author of the treatise develops the conception of nihil not in the ethical context as did St. Augustine, but in the ontological one. He tries to prove the existence of two beings with totally different relations to time. Nihil in the understanding of the author is the ontological notion—a different kind of being (totally omnes mali spiritus et mali homines, que possunt videri in hoc mundo, nichil sunt, quia sunt sine caritate, ergo sine Deo facta sunt. Non ergo Deus fecit ea, quia sine ipso factum est nichil, et teste Apostolo: Si non habuero caritatem, nichil sum.” 58. Durand of Huesca, “Liber antiheresis,” 209: “In principio erat verbum etc. Omnia per ipsum sunt, et sine ipso factum est nichil, id est aliquid non est factum sine ipso. Si enim hoc nomen negativum, nichil vult quis intelligere, quod sit vel mundus iste visibilis, vel diabolus, vel peccatum, errat.” Alanus de Insulis, De fide, [PL] CCX, 312: “Unde sequitur: Et sine ipso factum est nihil. Id est nulla res facta est sine ipso. Fortasse dicent haeretici, quod hoc nomine, nihil, designatur res corporalis quae corrumpitur, et ad nihilum tendit. . . .” 59. Jean Duvernoy, “Un traité cathare du début du XIIIe siècle,” Cahiers d’études cathares, 13 (1962), 22–54; Nelli, La Philosophie, 29–55, 65–69; Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, Les catharismes: modèes dissidents du christianisme médiéval, XIIe–XIIIe siècles (Rennes, 2008), 371– 74; Pilar Jiménez-Sanchez, “À propos de la controverse sur la nature doctrinale du Nihil cathare,” in Les Cathares devant l’Histoire, 311–21. PIOTR CZARNECKI 501 different from that of St. Augustine’s) deprived of faith and love, which through its temporality and transience tends towards nothingness. Based on earlier exegetical conceptions existing in the Drugunthian option of Catharism, the author develops a very strict ontological dualism: a dualism of two opposed beings, which are so radically different that they should not even be joined under the common word omnia. The echoes of Paulician time-focused dualism in this conception are very clear, because if we consider that a material being created by the devil is changeable, and through this changeability it tends to nothingness, it seems quite logical that in the future only the eternal and unchangeable spiritual being will survive, and consequently the good God will be the lord of the future. Nonetheless, we do not need to use deduction to prove the Paulician roots of this conception. The author himself, in the chapter De celis novis (“On the new heaven”), says openly (based as always on quotations from the Holy Scripture) that on the day of judgment this world will be destroyed, and from that time forward only the ideal world of the good God will exist.60 In the earlier chapters he makes a clear distinction between the two times, explicitly forming the conception of time-focused dualism. If everything is duplicated (omnia duplicia), as it is said in the book of Sirach, then not only two opposed creations, two worlds, exist, but also two ages. This issue is discussed by the author in the chapters De duobus seculis (“On two ages”) which is clearly separated from De duobus mundis (“On two worlds”) and De diebus bonis et malis (“On the good and evil days”). In the former, based on citations from the New Testament, he tries to prove that two ages were mentioned by Jesus himself; in the latter, he argues that the days of this world are evil.61 The abovementioned fragments of the treatise bear clear enough analogies to the Paulician conception, but anyone who still feels uncon60. Durand of Huesca, “Tractatus manicheorum,” 110: “Dies domini adveniet ut fur; in qua celi magno impetu transient, elementa vero ignis calore solventur, et terra et ea que in ipsa sunt omnia opera exurentur. (. . .) Et Christus ait de presenti creatura: Omnis plantacio quam non plantavit Pater meus celestis, eradicabitur.” 61. The Chapter “De duobus seculis” (“Tractatus manichaeorum,” 90) begins with the words: “Filius etiam Dei de duobus seculis locutus est dicens. . . .” Then the author quotes various passages from the Sacred Scripture: Luke 20:34; Gal. 1:3–4; Eph. 2:1–2; Rom. 12: 2; and 1 Cor. 2:6–8. The chapter “De diebus bonis et malis” begins with the words: “Dies etiam huius mundi presentis malos esse dicimus, iuxta Pauli sententiam.” Then the author quotes Eph. 6:13; Matt. 6:34; Ps. 102 (101):12; Job 7: 6; Job 29:2; 1 Pet. 3:10; and 2 Pet. 3:8. This specific timefocused dualism is also mentioned by Durand of Huesca in his polemics, see: Somme anticathare, ed. Thouzellier, 105: “Dicunt enim ad dedecus Dei omnipotentis duo secula esse, unum bonum, alterum malum. Similiter duos mundos, duo regna, duos celos, duas terras, et sic omnia dicunt esse duplicia.” 502 CATHAR “TIME-FOCUSED DUALISM” vinced should look at the Contra manicheos, where Durand of Huesca says clearly that the Cathars believed that the present age (presens seculum) was created by the devil.62 Disputing their conception, he presents numerous fragments from the Bible to show that there is only one God, who is the lord of both this age and the future (“Quod autem omnipotens Deus huius seculi, scilicet mundane machine et futuri Rex sit et Dominus, Iohannes apostolus in Apocalipsi satis ostendit.” “That the omnipotent God of this age—it means the world—is also King and Lord of the future, John the apostle sufficiently showed in the Apocalypse” [translation mine]).63 These quotations show clearly that the Cathars divided the realms of two opposed gods also on the level of time, just as the Paulicians did before them. The analysis of the sources describing the doctrine of the Cathars belonging to the Drugunthian order (ordo drugonthiae) confirms the conception of Bernard Hamilton. Various polemical sources from the end of the twelfth century—both French and Italian—show that the foundation of the Cathar distinction between two opposed beings was their relation to time. The Cathars did not especially emphasize the opposition of materialspiritual (or light-darkness as in Manichaeism) because it was obvious, but they focused on the opposition between the temporary (transient) and the eternal (unchangeable). The similarity of the Cathar radically dualistic theology to the earlier Paulician conception, is a strong argument supporting a traditional vision of Catharism as an element of the medieval dualist tradition rooted in the East. 62. Somme anti-cathare, ed. Thouzellier, 107: “Nos autem non verbis Christi, que sanctissima sunt, vel apostolorum eius, sed tantum pravo intellectui Manicheorum improbare volentes, dicimus ad premissa: in nulla predictarum auctoritatum dicitur presens seculum a diabolo esse factum, ad quod eorum intentio procul dubio hanelavit.” See also Ibid., 175: “Credunt enim diabolum fecisse omnes dies, quibus presens vita vel seculum volvitur ab inicio huius mundi. . .”; Ibid., 114: “Nulla ergo auctoritas suffragatur, bene intellecta, vel amminiculatur demencie catharorum, qua asserunt Deum malignum presens seculum creavisse.” 63. Durand of Huesca, in: Somme anti-cathare, ed. Thouzellier, 114. Durand’s refutation of this conception fills almost the whole chapter, “De duobus seculis opinio katharorum et post responsio contra eos” (106–15). The Crusading Indulgence and the Revolt of the Comunidades of Castile (1520–21): Ecclesiastical Reform and Local Religious Life CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO* The revolt of the Comunidades of Castile (1520–21) was an uprising of most of the cities against the government of Charles I of Spain (also Emperor Charles V). The comuneros’ petitions (capítulos) pointed out many problems of Castilian society and politics. There are several documents from the Comunero Revolt concerning the crusading indulgence, known as the bula de cruzada. This indulgence allowed the crown to collect money for the war against the “enemies of the faith,” in exchange for a wide range of graces for those who received it. This article proposes that the comuneros tried to reform the bula and limit its expansion because of its consequences for the local religious world. The rebels’ claims, though probably shared by some prominent Spanish churchmen of the sixteenth century, could not be supported by most Spaniards who purchased the indulgence and made it proliferate during the Early Modern Period. Furthermore, this work explores some of the religious and ecclesiastical dimensions of the Comunidades of Castile. Keywords: Revolt of the Comunidades of Castile, Crusading Indulgence, Bula de Cruzada, Ecclesiastical reform, Local Church. The Crusading Indulgence in Late Medieval and Early Modern Spain Even though ecclesiastical properties were exempt from taxation, from the Middle Ages onwards the Church contributed to the royal treasury.1 By the * Dr. Rizzuto is a postdoctoral researcher of the Consejo Nacional de Investigaciones Científicas y Técnicas (CONICET) of Argentina at the Instituto Multidisciplinario de Historia y Ciencias Humanas (IMHICIHU). He is also a teaching assistant at the Departamento de Historia of the Facultad de Filosofía y Letras of the Universidad de Buenos Aires. This article is a result of the author’s research on the religious and ecclesiastical problems of the revolt of the Comunidades de Castilla (1520–21). His email address is: claudiorizzuto88@gmail.com. 1. For this process in Spain, see: Sean T. Perrone, Charles V and the Castilian Assembly of the Clergy: Negotiations for the Ecclesiastical Subsidy (Leiden, 2008); Antonio María Rouco 503 504 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE sixteenth century, kings obtained money from the churches to cover their growing expenses. In Spain, different mechanisms were used such as the tercias reales, the subsidio, and the excusado (the last one during Philip II’s reign), and, most notably, the sole crusading indulgence (bula de cruzada).2 In this context, the bula was the most important fundraising strategy, with the advantage that it took the money from the subjects, not directly from the ecclesiastical resources. It should be noted that money and salvation were often related by several mechanisms—considered as charity—offered by the Church.3 However, the bula de cruzada provoked many conflicts and complaints. The Lazarillo de Tormes famously depicts the abuses of the crusading indulgence in the sixteenth century. In the fifth tratado of the book, Lázaro is serving a buldero (cruzada preacher or pardoner) whose usual tactics include plotting with the local clergy to amaze the parishioners and sell them the indulgence. As an example, the book narrates a particular episode in La Sagra (Toledo) where the buldero makes a plot with the local alguacil to win over the people who did not want to make a donation to obtain the bula.4 Shortly thereafter, the alguacil causes a scandal in front of the villagers by denouncing the pardoner for selling fake bulas (they are not really fake). Later, he regrets his accusation, saying it was inspired by the devil, and obtains the bula. Touched by this fake scene, the people acquire all the bulas the buldero had to offer. The spread of this episode in the nearby regions proved the pardoner could “sell” many indulgences without even preaching. The alguacil and the buldero end the episode laughing. There has been considerable discussion on the nature of this scene: does it show popVarela, Estado e Iglesia en la España del siglo XVI, trans. Irene Szmulakowski Morodo (Madrid, 2001), 201–32; and José Manuel Nieto Soria, Iglesia y génesis del estado moderno en Castilla (1369–1480) (Madrid, 1993), 311–42. 2. The tercias reales were one-third of the income of the tithe given to the king. The subsidio consisted of different one-time forms of giving a percentage of all the income of the Spanish Church to the king to support a military campaign against the Muslims. It was renewed from time to time. The excusado was the Church’s renunciation of the payment of the tithe by the third leading dezmero or diezmero [the individual who paid the tithe or the person who received or collected the tithe in each parish or administrative unity, usually called a dezmería]. This dezmero paid the tithe to the king instead. Later, it became the first leading dezmero rather than the third. See: Rouco Varela, Estado e Iglesia, 201–12; Elena Catalán Martínez, El precio del Purgatorio: Los ingresos del clero vasco en la Edad Moderna (Bilbao, 2000), 201–43. 3. On economy and religion in medieval and Early Modern Europe, see: Jacques Le Goff, Your Money or Your Life: Economy and Religion in the Middle Ages, trans. Patricia Ranum (New York, 1990); Bartolomé Clavero, Antidora: Antropología católica de la economía moderna (Milan, 1991); Nicole Bériou and Jacques Chiffoleau, eds., Économie et religion: L’expérience des ordres mendiants (XIIIe–XVe siècle) (Lyons, 2009). 4. The alguacil was a municipal constable or agent of justice. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 505 ular distrust, or is it the expression of the anonymous author’s disgust at the broadly accepted indulgences?5 Aside from this question, this episode and others episodes of the book have placed it within a long “anticlerical” tradition in Spain.6 In his classic work on Erasmus’s influence in Spain, the French Hispanist Marcel Bataillon pointed out that the mere denunciation of the clergy’s abuses was a poor concept of ecclesiastical reform.7 Following this idea, many testimonies, writings, and disputes are often excluded from the study of the impulses of ecclesiastical reform because they are merely denunciations of abuses. However, sometimes the complaints about the abuses could imply a more complete view about the need for transformation within the Church. At this point, as many historians have suggested, lies the importance of reconsidering the different paths and proposals of ecclesiastical reform throughout the sixteenth century.8 This article focuses on the petitions to reform the crusading indulgence during the Comunero Revolt of 1520–21 in Castile.9 These petitions not only enumerated some abuses to emend but also made a deep analysis of the bula, by placing it within one of the key points of sixteenth-century religious 5. La vida del Lazarillo de Tormes, y de sus fortunas y adversidades (Medina del Campo, 1554). For an English translation: The Life of Lazarillo de Tormes, trans. David Rowland, introduction and notes by Keith Whitlock (Warminster, 2000). On the religious attitude of the Lazarillo, see: Manuel J. Asensio, “La intención religiosa del Lazarillo de Tormes y Juan de Valdés,” Hispanic Review 27, no. 1 (1959), 78–102; Thomas Hanrahan, “Lazarillo de Tormes: Erasmian Satire or Protestant Reform,” Hispania 66, no. 3 (1983), 333–39. 6. Michel Boeglin, “Discours anticlérical et littérature au milieu du XVIe siècle. Le cas du Lazarillo de Tormes,” Sociocriticism 12, no. 1–2 (2007), 65–96. Another contemporary literary portrayal of the crusading indulgence in a critical sense was the one from Alfonso de Valdes (1490?–1532)’s Diálogo de Mercurio y Carón. Someone under interdict could use the bula to enter the church. Thus, according to the Erasmian writer, due to the crusading indulgence, “Jesus” demanded money to let people go to church. See Alfonso de Valdes, Diálogo de Mercurio y Carón, ed. José F. Montesinos (Madrid, 1929), 21–22. The clergyman Juan Bernal Díaz de Luco (1495–1556) warned that the preachers could lie about the bulas’ privileges for their bearers. The parish priest had to be watchful of this danger. See Juan Bernal Díaz de Luco, Aviso de Curas, ed. José Luis Tejada Herce (Madrid, 1996), 298–99. 7. Marcel Bataillon, Erasmo y España: Estudios sobre la historia espiritual del siglo XVI, trans. Antonio Alatorre, 2nd Spanish ed. (1966; Madrid, 1983), 2. For a moderate reading, especially concerning Spanish prelates, see: Lu Ann Homza, Religious authority in the Spanish Renaissance (Baltimore, 2000). 8. On the different trends of ecclesiastical and religious reform in the Early Modern Period, see: Carlos M. N. Eire, Reformations: The Early Modern World, 1450–1650 (New Haven, 2016). 9. The Comunero Revolt (1520–21) was a war waged by the cities of Castile against the government left by the new King Charles I during his absence to become Emperor Charles V. It was originally a political and anti-fiscal uprising against Charles’s imperial project, but later it became a social movement for the peasants and the common people of the cities. 506 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE conflict: the relationship between indulgences and the economy of salvation. Many times, especially in the Catholic world, the critique of ecclesiastical institutions was limited to the excesses they committed. Nevertheless, the case of the crusading indulgence could confirm that the denunciation of excesses often included a different sensibility, which implied more modifications to the functioning of the churches than the mere end of abuses. Underlining the abuses could be the starting point to constructing another image of the ecclesiastical institutions.10 The emphasis on the local church—and the demands to restrict external interventions over it—could be a key element for this endeavor. This work proposes that the comuneros— following this sensibility—participated in the controversy surrounding the crusading indulgence in the sixteenth century, but that their claims could not be shared by most Spaniards, who obtained the crusading indulgence and made it proliferate during the Early Modern Period. There was a difference between the rebels’ point of view and the wide acceptance of the bula. The crusading indulgence was a religious, military, fiscal, and political resource for the confrontation against the Muslims during the last decades of the so-called “Reconquista.”11 Its origins are related to the collaboration between kings and popes in the campaigns against the “enemies of the faith” in the Iberian Peninsula.12 Those who did not participate directly in combat could collaborate in another way: the faithful had the opportunity to obtain several spiritual benefits with the donation of an amount of money to support the war.13 10. On the importance of the religious sensibilities (sensibilités religieuses) for the sixteenth century, see: Thierry Wanegffelen, Ni Rome ni Genève: Des fidèles entre deux chaires en France au XVI e siècle (Paris, 1997), xii–xiii. 11. There is a substantial historiographical debate about the appropriateness of this term, see: Francisco García Fitz, “La Reconquista: un estado de la cuestión,” Clio & Crimen: Revista de Historia del Crimen de Durango, 6 (2009), 142–215. 12. On the Crusading Indulgence in Spain, see: José Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la Bula de Cruzada en España (Vitoria, 1958); Patrick J. O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance and Religious Life in Golden Age Spain (University Park, PA, 2012). For the crusading indulgence in Colonial America, see: José Antonio Benito Rodríguez, La Bula de Cruzada en Indias (Madrid, 2002). Briefly, there were several versions of the crusading indulgence. The bula de vivos gave penitential and dietary privileges for the living. The bula para los difuntos served to assist in the progress of dead family members through purgatory. The bula de lactaciones allowed the faithful to consume forbidden milk products during Lent. The bula de composición made ill-gotten gains become legitimate. See also Norman Housley, “Indulgences for Crusading, 1417–1517,” in: Promissory Notes on the Treasury of Merits: Indulgences in Late Medieval Europe, ed. Robert. N. Swanson (Leiden, 2006), 277–307. 13. For the cruzada, people contributed eight reales if they were elites (ilustres) or two reales if they were not. The peones in Granada in 1501, for example, could earn between half CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 507 The Spanish bula de cruzada was an extension of the medieval indulgence system in the Catholic Church. The earliest indulgences were granted in the eleventh century and were related to pilgrimage and crusade as penances. Because of the difficulties that these so-considered works of piety could entail, the indulgences remitted, partially or completely, these temporal penalties. According to church teachings, after God forgave the guilt of sins (culpa), restitution, called penalty (pena), was required to be made. In other words, forgiveness was obtained by confession to a priest but a “debt” remained afterwards, and it demanded some pious work. The priest imposed the penalty based on the evil committed. The merits the Church acquired through the sacrifice of Christ and of the martyrs—the communio suffragiorum—exceeded the needs of all penitent sinners. This was the Church’s “treasure of merits.” The abundance of merits allowed for the pardons of the penalties by popes and bishops. The contributions were considered alms and pious work if they were used to build churches, monasteries, or even to benefit poor university students. The indulgences for the dead, though very similar, were a different issue in the Middle Ages.14 The bula de cruzada, developed under these ideas, offered multiple penitential and dietary privileges. First, the bearers gained a plenary indulgence, which was available to be used twice: once at the moment of obtaining it and a second time in extremis, always before the expiration of the bula. Additionally, they could, for instance, consume a certain food when it was forbidden by the church calendar, choose an “appropriate” confessor rather than the parish curate, receive Christian burial and the sacraments during the time of interdict, be absolved of all sins (except heresy) by his or her confessor, have the celebration of a Mass at home when he or she was sick, and other benefits. All these benefits together were often larger than those given by other indulgences that could be offered, which were usually more restricted. Furthermore, each time these indulgences were offered, the king and one real a day. See Juan Ramón Romero Fernández-Pacheco, “Trabajo, precios y salarios en la construcción. Granada 1501,” Chronica Nova, 18 (1990), 447–60. 14. For this short summary, see: Robert W. Shaffern, “The Medieval Theology of Indulgences,” in: Promissory Notes on the Treasury of Merits: Indulgences in Late Medieval Europe, ed. Robert N. Swanson (Leiden, 2006), 11–36. On the crusade indulgence and the Crusades, see: Ane L. Bysted, The Crusade Indulgence: Spiritual Rewards and the Theology of the Crusades, c. 1095–1216 (Leiden, 2014). The Church could not claim jurisdiction over purgatory. Therefore, the ways to explain the mostly accepted Church’s immemorial intervention on behalf of the departed and how those benefits should be understood were the more commonly discussed aspects. On purgatory, see: Jacques Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago, 1984). In Spain: Carlos M. N. Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory. The Art and Craft of Dying in Sixteenth-Century Spain (New York, 1995). 508 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE FIGURE 1. Bull of indulgences for the War of Granada. Sixtus IV. Salamanca, 1486. AMG Leg. 9 Doc. 28. In the public domain. demanded the cancellation of the rest of the indulgences published by any other ecclesiastical institution, such as by a monastery, a hospital, the Roman See, or even the bulas from former years. This put the crusading indulgence in permanent conflict and competition against local and papal institutions, who lost the opportunity to obtain extra income from the people. Altogether, the bula could be an attractive option because it allowed its acquirer more benefits than almost any other indulgence, or it could be the only indulgence available because the rest had been cancelled.15 Technically, the bula was neither bought nor sold: the money given was considered alms. The pope gave the kings of Castile and Aragon permission to preach the indulgence, and the kings controlled the designation of the pardoner or preacher of the indulgence (bulero or buldero)—nicknamed echacuervos, “crow-throwers”—and other functionaries who distributed and received the collected money. During the Granada war of 15. For the different benefits of the Bula, see: Benito Rodríguez, La Bula de Cruzada, 21–27 and 234–37. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 509 1482 to 1492, the practice of printing broadside copies of the bula and distributing them to the donors was adopted. The buletas—printed broadsides where the privileges of the indulgence were outlined—were mostly printed in Valladolid (in the monastery of Nuestra Señora del Prado) and in Toledo (in the Dominican convent of San Pedro Mártir). For Hispanic America, where the indulgences were also largely consumed, they were printed in Seville, in San Jerónimo de Buenavista, from 1574.16 In the sixteenth century, permission to preach the indulgence was granted to a third person or group of people—with financial resources—who gave the money to the Crown in advance and then were in charge of preaching sermons, distributing the buletas, and collecting the generated alms.17 The “effect” of the indulgence expired after a certain duration (usually three years but eventually just one) after which a new bula had to be purchased. The sermons of the cruzada preaching underwent strong transformations in the sixteenth century, losing their initial emphasis on the war against the “enemies of faith.”18 The critical opinions about the bula denounced the allocation of the money collected towards purposes other than to combat the “infidels.” At the same time, there was plenty of theological criticism against the indulgences in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, even in Spain, where the case of the episcopal judgment in Toledo—without a severe sentence—against the scholar Pedro de Osma in 1478-79 was the most famous.19 However, almost every “heresy” or hetero- 16. Eugenio Serrano and Miguel Fernando Gómez Vozmediano, “Imprenta, dinero y fe: la impresión de bulas en el convento dominico de San Pedro Mártir de Toledo (1483– 1600),” Tiempos Modernos, 27, no. 2 (2013), 1–65; Benito Rodríguez, La bula de Cruzada, 177-97. See different images of a broadside reproduced in Benito Rodríguez, La bula de Cruzada, 422, 425, 428, 429, 430 and 442. 17. See Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la Bula, 502–16. The practice of having intermediaries collect funds was very common. On tax collection in Castile during the comunero years: David Alonso García, El Erario del reino: Fiscalidad en Castilla a principios de la Edad Moderna (Valladolid, 2007). 18. On the Crusade Ideology of sixteenth-century Spain: Patrick J. O’Banion, “Only the King can do it: Adaptation and Flexibility in Crusade Ideology in Sixteenth Century Spain,” Church History, 81, no. 3 (2012), 552–74. 19. Pedro de Osma or Pedro Martínez de Osma was a scholar from the University of Salamanca. He wrote the Tractatus de confessione (of which no copy remains) where he criticized the indulgences. An assembly of theologians met in Alcalá de Henares to analyze the book and all the works of Pedro de Osma. As result of the lack of agreement among the members of the assembly, the archbishop of Toledo Alfonso Carrillo (1410–82) initiated a canonical trial for suspected heresy against him in 1479—this was before the establishment of the Spanish Inquisition. Osma admitted his errors during the trial and received a minor sentence. He died shortly after in 1480. See: José Labajos Alonso, Proceso contra Pedro de Osma (Salamanca, 2010). 510 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE dox movement identified by the Spanish Inquisition included complaints against the bula or the indulgences in general.20 Even the Cortes of the kingdom of Castile in 1512 denounced the bula and the serious trouble it caused to the people and to the Christian Faith: the preachers pushed people to hear the sermons, used threats and extortions, and even prohibited workers from going to do their tasks unless they acquire the bull. The preachers also tested people on the street to see if they knew the Catholic prayers, and if they did not, they made them obtain the cruzada by force.21 The comuneros’ documents repeated and expanded these criticisms.22 Nevertheless, acquiring the Crusading Indulgence became a way to claim that someone was a good Spanish Catholic. The penitential and dietary privileges granted by the cruzada were prominent topics in sermons.23 On the other hand, after the impact of the Reformation, and especially after 1560, people who criticized the bula were often foreigners. Such criticisms put them under suspicion of being heretics. Sometimes, aliens’ refusal to acquire the bull made them “Lutherans,” when in fact they were merely Catholics used to the religious practices of their own countries which did not involve the cruzada.24 20. The criticism of the crusading indulgence often appeared together with that of auricular confession, see: O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance, 142–67. 21. “Hazemos saber a vuestas Alteza que las grandes opresiones y agrauios que los comisarios, e thesoreros, y predicadores de la Cruzada hacen en las çibdades, e villas, e lugares destos rreynos, e las grandes penas e amenazas e censuras que les ponen, maiormente en las aldeas, haziendoles detener en las iglesias vno, e dos, e tres días a la mañana e a la tarde que oyan sus semones, non les dexando salir a sus oficios y lauores, impidiéndoles sus jornales de que se an de mantener aquellos, y quando por esta via no pueden induzirlos a tomar las dichas bulas, van por las calles examinando à cada persona si saben el pater noster y el Ave Maria, y si alguno hallan que no la saben hacenle por pena tomar dicha bulla, e si algunos no la an tomado, leuanlos con grandes prisiones de vnos lugares a otros a oir sus predicaciones, e haziendoles indirectamente, e por fuerça y con temores y amenazas tomar las dichas bullas, trayendo consigo alguaziles e prendadores e executores para executar las penas que queiren prender, e temorizando los pueblos e haciendo otras muchas exorciones e desafueros,” Cortes de los antiguos reinos de León y Castilla, 7 vols. (Madrid, 1861–1903), IV, 236–37. 22. On the Cortes of Castile and ecclesiastical problems, see: Christian Hermann, “L’Église selon les Cortes de Castille: 1476–1595,” Hispania Sacra, 26, nos. 53–54 (1976), 201–35; José Luis de las Heras Santos, “Política y religión en las Cortes de Castilla del tiempo de los Reyes Católicos y de los Austrias,” in: Religión, Política y Patrimonio en la península ibérica (siglos XIII–XXI), eds. María José Pérez Álvarez and Alfredo Martín García (Madrid, 2018), 137–65. 23. Patrick J. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith? The Crusading Indulgence in Early Modern Spain,” Archive für Reformationsgeschichte, 101 (2010), 164–85, here 183–84. 24. This was typical, with French people often condemned as “Lutherans” in Spain. Many times, they were merely Catholics used to the religious practices and traditions of their CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 511 FIGURE 2. Bula de indulgencias de la Santa Cruzada (para difuntos, cédula, en castellano). [Toledo: Antonio Téllez, 1495]. See Konrad Haebler. Geschichte des spanischen Frühdruckes in Stammbäumen (Leipzig, 1923), 223. In the public domain. The Crusading Indulgence as a financial resource during the Comunidades The cruzada’s financial significance has already been mentioned. Different episodes during the Comunero Revolt concerning the dispute over the resources of the bula testify to this point.25 Comuneros and royalists took the money of the bula, and any money available, to defray the military cost of the conflict. The royalists used their relative “right” to do it—although it was not for the war against the Muslims—while the rebels “usurped” the king’s jurisdiction. Many comuneros’ documents repeated this point. There are many testimonies in this sense, and to illustrate them, a few examples can be cited. homes. For them, the Spanish custom of acquiring the bula could be odd and censurable, and that put French individuals into trouble with their neighbors and eventually with the Inquisition. See: Michel Boeglin, “Luteranos franceses en la España de los Austrias. Aspectos culturales de un conflicto religioso,” in: La cultura del otro: español en Francia, francés en España, eds. Manuel Bruña Cuevas and others (Sevilla, 2006), 118–32. 25. In the time of Philip II, 8% of the income from America for the Hacienda Real was from the Bula: Benito Rodríguez, La Bula de Cruzada, 30. 512 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE FIGURE 3. Adrian of Utrecht, ca. 1523, by Jan van Scorel. In the public domain. In September 1520, the Junta asked for various forms of assistance from the Comunidad of Valladolid, such as retaining the royal incomes, the servicio, and the bula’s donations.26 The Junta, on February 10, 1521, requested all the resources, even those from the cruzada, to be sent to them.27 Adrien of Utrecht (governor of the kingdom in the king’s absence) wrote several detailed letters on the revolt.28 When the conflict had barely started, he mentioned that the rebels had taken 2,000 ducats from the cruzada to pay their troops.29 In another letter, dated November 13, 1520, he stated that the comuneros had taken all the money available, even that from the bula.30 Finally, on January 4, 1521, he wrote to the emperor 26. Manuel Danvila y Collado, Historia Crítica y Documentada de las Comunidades de Castilla, 6 vols. (Madrid, 1897–1900), II, 74. This six-volume work is the most important document collection concerning the Comunero Revolt. 27. Ibid., III, 280. 28. The letters of Adrien of Utrecht are a very important source about the revolt, see: Leandro Martínez Peñas, Las Cartas de Adriano. La guerra de las comunidades a través de la correspondencia del Cardenal-Gobernador (Madrid, 2010). 29. “[L]os de Toledo pagan de los dineros de la Cruzada y daquel arçobispado a los soldados que han de embiar para en ayuda de la ciudat de Segovia que ahora han tomado dos mil ducados de la Cruzada,” Danvila y Collado, Historia crítica, I, 415. 30. Ibid., II, 482. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 513 saying that the rebels had seized money from the alcabalas (royal sales tax), the royal income, and the cruzada.31 Other royalists also commented on the comuneros’ taking the money raised by the crusading indulgence. The Condestable of Castile—co-governor of the kingdom during the revolt—remarked on February 2, 1521, that the bishop of Zamora, Antonio de Acuña, one of the comuneros’ leaders, had claimed all the money, even that from the bula, for himself.32 A letter from the city of Burgos to the Junta Comunera—where the rebels’ political leaders met—accused the Junta of spending the maravedíes of the cruzada to support the uprising.33 The king’s general pardon for the rebels published in Valladolid, in October 1522, mentioned the taking of the money of the bula among the crimes committed by the rebels.34 A royal document from December 1522 also referred to the rebels taking from the royal income and the crusading indulgence in the city of Salamanca.35 One particular royal pardon to Juan de Porras, a comunero from the city of Zamora, dated July 6, 1524, also included the seizure of the money of the servicio and the cruzada among the crimes, and it demanded its restitution.36 Other sources blamed Bishop Acuña for accumulating money, also from the bula.37 The crusading indulgence was also a resource for the armies who supported the king, and therefore some documents referred to the allocation of these resources to pay the war expenses. This was a long-standing mechanism, which involved hiring mercenaries, a persistent practice from the war of Granada in 1492 to the times of King Philip II (1527–98).38 This practice was also used to fight against the comuneros. Adrien of Utrecht was worried, in a letter dated November 1520, because the royalists were not 31. “[C]on infinitas vexaciones procuran y se toman todos los dineros assi de las rentas reales y alcaualas como del seruicio y de la Cruzada,” Ibid., III, 11. 32. Ibid., III, 200. 33. “[L]os maravedíes de la Santa Cruzada (…) para sustener la dicha rebelión,” Ibid., II, 377. 34. “[P]or fuerça e con mano armada tomaron muy grandes sumas de maravedíes asi de nuestras rentas e patrimonio Real como de la Santa Cruzada,” Ibid., V, 240. 35. Ibid., V, 385. 36. “[F]uesedes condenado a restitucion de todos los maravedíes e otras cosas que de nuestras rentas e cruzada e servicio e patrimonio real tomastes,” Ibid., IV, 658. 37. Ibid., II, 714, and Ibid., IV, 670. The accusation of fiscal Pero Ruiz against the bishop of Zamora did not include the crusading indulgence, but it mentioned that Acuña had taken money from the King and others. It is dated April, 1524: Luis Fernández Martín, El movimiento comunero en los pueblos de Tierra de Campos (León, 1979), 498–502. 38. Patrick J. O’Banion, “The Crusading State: The expedition for the Cruzada Indulgence from Trent to Lepanto,” Sixteenth Century Journal, 44, no. 1 (2013), 97–116. 514 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE FIGURE 4. Antonio Osorio de Acuna, image in: Victoriano Ameller, Los mártires de la libertad española, I, (Madrid: Imprenta de Luis García, 1853), p. 137. In the public domain. collecting any money, not even from the cruzada.39 This situation seemed to have changed later, because the Almirante of Castile, another governor appointed by the king during the revolt, admitted—after the defeat of the comuneros—that he had paid the soldiers with the money from the bula.40 Thus, the Comunero conception of the crusading indulgence was within this context of dispute for any raised money. The comuneros’ petitions and the Crusading Indulgence The disputes over the crusading indulgence are occasionally mentioned by historians as a problem of the revolt of the Comunidades, especially due to their presence in the petitions written by the rebels. The petitions were documents produced during the revolt and they complained about different topics and demanded actions from the king to solve them. These topics could refer to many different issues from Castilian society 39. “[D]e la cruzada cosa ninguna se cobra,” Danvila y Collado, Historia Crítica, II, 519. 40. “Pues es uerdad que traíamos la gente bien pagada i contenta como se podía hacer que nos auian de pagar, lo que reconocia a vuestra magestad y esta para auia de ser de seruicio i cruzada i Alcaualas,” Ibid., V, 412. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 515 and politics. Some of the petitions were written by only one revolting city (probably each city wrote its own petition), while others were written by the different Juntas formed by the rebels. Historian José Joaquín Jerez has addressed this subject in more detail. He puts the comuneros’ opinions of the bula into a political as well as an intellectual context. For this author, the most important claim was the end of the abuses, as in the rest of the questions of ecclesiastical reform. These criticisms, according to Jerez, would have led the “highly Catholic people” (catolicísimo pueblo) to hesitate over buying the bulas.41 Considering recent studies on the crusading indulgence, it can be found that a critical attitude was not a predominant element of the generalized situation in sixteenth-century Spain. Therefore, the rebels took a stand on one of the topics of the religious debate of the epoch.42 The persistence of the crusading indulgence until the nineteenth and twentieth centuries calls for a more accurate characterization of the phenomenon, instead of a critical view. Charles V renewed the cruzada for two years in 1519. During his reign, he also consolidated the Comisaría General de Cruzada and then the Consejo de Cruzada.43 Patrick J. O’Banion’s studies on the bula de cruzada in Early Modern Spain are particularly important for the understanding of comuneros’ petitions. However, although O’Banion considered one of the comuneros’ petitions about the bula, there were others that this author did not analyze. They provide a more precise image of the comuneros’ positions and requests.44 41. José Joaquín Jerez, Pensamiento político y reforma institucional durante la guerra de las Comunidades de Castilla (1520–1521) (Madrid, 2007), 534. On the crusading indulgence among the comuneros, see: Jerez, Pensamiento político , 530–45. For other approaches, see: Juan Ignacio Gutiérrez Nieto, Las comunidades como movimiento antiseñorial (la formación del bando realista en la guerra civil castellana de 1520–1521) (Barcelona, 1973), 369–70; José Belmonte Díaz, Los comuneros de la Santa Junta. La “constitución de Ávila” (Ávila, 1986), 101–02. Different articles on ecclesiastical problems of the Comunidades can be found in: István Szaszdi León-Borja, ed., Iglesia, eclesiásticos y revolución comunera (Valladolid, 2018). 42. On the indulgences in Spain, see: John Edwards, “‘España es diferente?’ Indulgences and the spiritual economy in Late Medieval Spain,” in: Promissory Notes on the Treasury of Merits, 147–68. 43. Javier de Carlos Morales and José Martínez Millán, “Los orígenes del Consejo de Cruzada (siglo XVI),” Hispania, 51, no. 179 (1991), 901–32. 44. Patrick J. O’Banion only quoted the letter of the friars of Salamanca of 1519, without mentioning the rest of the comuneros’ petitions. See O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance, 97–98. Goñi Gaztambide, probably inspiring O’Banion at this point, also only mentioned the case of the friars of Salamanca for the Comunero Revolt, see Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la bula, 509. For O’Banion’s fundamental work on the cruzada and its impact on religious life, see: O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 516 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE Already in the foundational manifest establishing the Junta Comunera in Tordesillas, dated 14 November 1520, the rebels were complaining that the money from the bula was not used for the war against the “enemies of the faith” but rather that it ended up in the hands of private individuals (personas particulares).45 Likewise, most of the petitions were on this topic. A first group denounced the abuses and attempted to put an end to the bad practices of the preachers and ensure that the raised funds were used for the correct purpose.46 The aforementioned letter of the friars of Salamanca, written in 1519, and probably the first petitions related to the uprisings in progress, was very tough on this point. There, the friars asked for moderation, because the misuses of the bula were against the blood of Christ (a common reference to the Church’s administration of Christ’s merits). The friars also described that many false echacuervos provoked scandals by the way they promoted the new cruzada—for example, declaring that the old one was over when the new one was being promoted, or keeping people from working until they donated for the bula—was unjust, although the pope himself allowed it.47 The Capítulos de lo que ordenaban de pedir los de la Junta [Petitions backing the demands of the members of the Junta] are perhaps the most famous comuneros’ text. They expressed a similar opinion, adding that all the donated money should be spent on the war against the “moros.”48 The peti45. “[E]s cosa muy averiguada en estos Reynos que todo el tesoro que estava guardado en las bullas e cruzadas para la guerra de los infieles enemigos de nuestra Santa fee catolica averlo dado sin saber cuanto hera a personas particulares,” Danvila y Collado, Historia crítica, II, 536. 46. Rouco Varela, for example, referred to the preaching of the bulas as “enterprises” and “commercial methods”: Rouco Varela, Estado e Iglesia, 216. 47. “Que se modere este desacato a la sangre de Cristo con tanta multitud de bulas y tanta falsedad en los echacuervos predicadores y la vejación con que a los pueblos se hace, asi en detenerlos en los lugares que no vayan a sus labores como en comprenderlos indirectamente que tomen las bulas modernas, suspendiéndoles las viejas, lo cual, aunque el Papa lo pueda hacer, parece injusto, pues dieron sus dos reales. Item, que en gran escandalo, no solo la causa pía en que se debe expender la moneda de la cruzada muchas veces es dudosa o oculta al pueblo, más es pública voz y fama que los dineros habidos de la cruzada quedan de merced a gente extranjera o fuera del propósito de las pías causas e infinitos males que desto suceden o son públicos, como es dispensar con comunidades en cosas que, aunque sean de jurepositivo, se debían dispensar con particulares, como en carne y huevos, etc.,” petitions 12 and 13 of the Carta de los frailes de Salamanca, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 598. Although donating for the bula was not compulsory, it was obligatory to hear the promotional sermon. The Carta de los frailes de Salamanca is in the city of Simancas, Archivo General de Simancas (hereafter referred to as AGS), Estado, Leg. 16, fol. 416. 48. “Que las bulas se prediquen sin suspensión de otras, e que lo que dellas se hubiere se gaste en guerra de moros,” petition 24 of the Capítulos de lo que ordenaban de pedir los de la CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 517 tions of the city of Valladolid commented on how the preachers of the crusading indulgence threatened the people, causing the contrary effect: because of their wickedness, instead of the salvation of the donors, the indulgence caused the condemnation of the donors’ souls.49 The petitions had an interest in the salvation of the Castilians, with the cities trying to regulate some of the means that the Church, in this case in association with the monarchy, offered to people for their salvation. The misuse of the indulgence could have the effect of promoting the damnation, rather than the salvation, of the souls of the people. The rest of the petitions, besides commenting on the same aspects, added other elements of interest. The city of Burgos initially joined the revolt, but later opposed it. In its petitions, Burgos mentioned the supervision of the Cortes Generales of the kingdom in the approval of any new indulgence, showing a particular interest in the conquest of “Africa.”50 This mention was important due to the recent conquest of Oran by the cardinal and archbishop of Toledo, Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros, in 1512.51 The petitions of Burgos also warned about the situation of the kingdom of Sicily, which was being repeatedly attacked by the Muslims.52 The French historian Alain Milhou noted that the Castilian cities were not concerned Junta, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 602. These petitions are in AGS, Patronato Real, Leg. 4, fol. 43. 49. “[P]orque en el predicar de las bulas de las dichas cruzadas se han hecho y hacen muy grandes exorbitancias compeliendo y apremiando por diversas formas . . . [the bearers] reniegan de las bulas y aun del papa que las concedio y en lugar de ganar las indulgencias é Remision de pecados que por ellas se conceden gana condenación para sus animas y se cometen muchos pecados,” petition 33 of the petitions of the city of Valladolid, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 610. These petitions are in AGS, Comunidades de Castilla, Leg. 6, fol. 4. 50. “[A]lguna cruzada o indulgencia para se predicar que primeramente se vea la causa en las Cortes Generales, para que allí vista la causa y la necesidad ser tal que convenga al reyno, e defensión de la fe y conquista de Africa,” petition 11 of the petitions of the city of Burgos, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 628. 51. On the conquest of Oran, see: Beatriz Alonso Acero, Cisneros y la conquista española del norte de África: cruzada, política y arte de la guerra (Madrid, 2005). The petitions of the city of Burgos are in AGS, Patronato Real, Leg. 3, fol. 124. The petitions of the city of Burgos have different versions, written between August and September of 1520. The one quoted here is the most famous. On the different versions, see: Hilario Casado Alonso, “Nuevos documentos sobre la Guerra de las Comunidades en Burgos,” in La Ciudad de Burgos: Actas del Congreso de Historia de Burgos (Burgos, 1985), 247–60. 52. “[P]or quanto el reyno de Cecilia es cosa muy ymportante y no solamente para el servicio de su magestad, sino para amparo de toda la cristiandad, y por quanto tiene a los turcos tan vecynos y son muchos y muy poderosos por tierra y por mar,” petition 21 of the petitions of the city of Burgos, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 630. 518 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE about the war against the Muslims at the beginning of the 1510s.53 The petitions of Burgos, however, seemed to indicate a different attitude: there was concern about the Spanish position in North Africa and the fight against the Muslims. Likewise, other testimonies during the revolt mentioned the Spanish call for fighting against Islam, like a letter from the Almirante to Valladolid.54 Even so, in the sixteenth century, the Crusader ideology did not have the same potential it had earlier possessed. The Fifth Lateran Council (1512–17), for instance, did not succeed in organizing a crusade.55 Nevertheless, the persistence of the via per hispaniam (the idea of arriving in Jerusalem by conquering the North of Africa and advancing that way), originating in the Middle Ages, was remarkable. This “project” even had echoes in the ambassadorship (and, almost certainly, the spying mission) of Peter Martyr d’Anghiera in Egypt during the epoch of the Catholic Kings.56 The city of Valladolid had also written a letter in 1516 exhorting the new king to accomplish the destiny of Spain by destroying the heretics and infidels and conquering Jerusalem.57 The petitions of the Junta of Tordesillas, where all the rebel cities met, pressed the role of the Cortes of the reign in checking any crusading indulgence or manner of obtaining money of “ecclesiastical” origin. They also advocated for restricting the preaching of indulgences to its proper place— that is to say, only in cathedral or collegiate churches. The parish priests, or those whom the priests appointed, needed to have control over what was 53. Alain Milhou, Pouvoir royal et absolutisme dans l’Espagne du XVIe siècle (Toulouse, 1999), 33–43. 54. “[E]s cosa bien segura que lo sepays que España que hera freno para moros y xpianos en el mundo,” Danvila y Collado, Historia crítica, II, 281. 55. Nelson H. Minnich, “Lateran V and the Call for a Crusade,” in: Begegnung der Kirche in Ost und West im Spiegel der synodalen Strukturen—Festschrift für Petar Vrankić zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. Johannes Grohe, Gregor Wurst, Zvjezdan Strika, and Hermann Fischer (Sankt Ottilien, 2017), 207–36. 56. On the Spaniards and the Crusades to the Holy Land, see: William Purkins, Crusading Spirituality in the Holy Land and Iberia c. 1095–1187 (Woodbridge, Suffolk, 2008); Patrick J. O’Banion, “What has Iberia to do with Jerusalem? Crusade and the Spanish route to the Holy Land in the twelfth century,” Journal of Medieval History, 34 (2008), 383–95. On Peter Martyr d’Anghiera’s embassy, see: Raúl Álvarez-Moreno, Ebtisam Shaban Mursi, and El Sayeb Ibrahim Soheim, eds., Una embajada española al Egipto de principios del siglo XVI. La Legatio Babilónica de Pedro Mártir de Anglería (Madrid, 2013). 57. “Nuestro Señor os guardó e hizo tan gran príncipe, que para conservación de su Iglesia y paz universal de la cristiandad y para perpetura destrucción de los herejes e infieles . . . que es menester que diez y seis años comencéis a caminar para llegar a Jerusalén, para restituir su santa casa a Dios,” reproduced in: Fray Prudencio de Sandoval, Historia de la vida y hechos del emperador Carlos V, 3 vols., ed. Carlos Seco Serrano [Biblioteca de autores españoles, 80–82] (Madrid, 1955–56), I, 92. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 519 preached in their parish churches. The alcaldes—local judges—of the villages were also to have jurisdiction over what the villagers and clergy received and how the money was managed, because it was a very dangerous matter in terms of the salvation or condemnation of souls.58 The humanist Juan Maldonado wrote a dialogue narrating the Comunidades, unpublished until the nineteenth century.59 He commented on the meeting between the rebels and Queen Joanna [Juana].60 There, the comuneros demanded a limitation to the papal pardons, or condonationes, because they were preached by ignorant preachers that took all the villagers’ money, advocating for the pardon of the sins by terror and not by pious exhortations.61 Furthermore, according to Maldonado, the leaders of the revolt had an overview of the problems caused by the indulgences and 58. “[Q]ue no se consientan en predicar ni prediquen en estos reinos bulas de cruzada ni composición de cualquier calidad que sea, si no fuere con causa verdadera e necesaria, vista e determinada en Cortes… Que no se prediquen sino solamente en las iglesias, catedrales o colegiales. E que a los otros lugares adonde no hubiere iglesias catedrales o colegiales, en las iglesias parroquiales do las hubiere, se envíen bulas a los curas de las iglesias parroquiales o sus tenientes, para que ellos las divulguen e prediquen a sus parroquianos”; and that the bulas “se cobren pidiéndola ante la justicia seglar de las tales ciudades e villas e lugares donde se hubiere tomado. E los alcaldes de las aldeas tenga jurisdicción sobre esto, porque de hacer lo contrario se ha visto y conocido el gran peligro de las ánimas que los labradores e clérigos e otras personas reciben,” petitions 70 and 72 of the petitions of Tordesillas, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 647–48. The petitions of Tordesillas are in AGS, Patronato Real, Leg. 3, fol. 137. 59. Juan Maldonado (1485?–1554) should not be confused with others with the same name in the sixteenth century. He was born in the province of Cuenca but he is associated with the city of Burgos, where he lived most of his life. He was a priest and a humanist, published many works in Latin, and corresponded with Erasmus of Rotterdam. See: Warren Smith and Clark Colahan, Spanish Humanism and the Verge of the Picaresque: Juan Maldonado’s Ludus Chartarum, Pastor Bonus and Bacchanalia (Leuven, 2009). His text on the Comunidades is a very complex one, critical of the rebels but also of Charles V’s government. See: Antonio Pérez-Romero, The Subversive Tradition in Spanish Renaissance Writing (Lewisburg, PA, 2005), 131–69. 60. Joanna, known as Juana the Mad, was still the queen although her son Charles proclaimed himself as king of the Spanish kingdoms. They were both reigning monarchs at the same time. This unusual situation continued until the death of Joanna in 1555. On Joanna, see: Bethany Aram, Juana the Mad: Sovereignty and Dynasty in Renaissance Europe (Baltimore, 2005); Gillian B Fleming, Juana I: Legitimacy and Conflict in Sixteenth-Century Castile (London, 2018). 61. “[C]ondonationibus etiam pontificiis modum imponendum, ne contionatores indocti, quos vocant coraces, vicanos agricolas divexarent; commisorum aiebant expiationes non esse per avaritiam terroribus inferendas, sed piis exhortationibus condonandas,” Juan Maldonado, De motu Hispaniae: El levantamiento de España, ed. María Ángeles Durán Ramas (Madrid, 1991), 210. 520 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE similar resources the popes sent or authorized. This was a widespread European complaint, like the statements made by the French clergy during the Council of Trent: that papal intervention in the dioceses frequently caused all manners of abuses.62 Another text written during the revolt, the petitions of fray Francisco de los Ángeles—so-named for the Franciscan Commissary General, who acted as a mediator between the rebels and the royalist party—also alluded to the cruzada like the rest of the petitions. These petitions suggested that the preaching of the bula should be conducted in ecclesiastical places or by the parish priests, and no pressure should be put on the people to attend the sermons.63 This was a problem because when the cruzada was preached outside the churches, it could be out of the parish priest’s control.64 Additionally, this statement could be taken as a remark on the need for ordained people to preach indulgences. Although the preachers of the cruzada were usually priests or friars, medieval theologians agreed that one did not need to be ordained to preach indulgences, considering they were not sacraments.65 The comuneros’ petition could be a demand to clarify an ambiguous point.66 Thus, the comuneros’ petitions would establish a twofold control over the indulgences. For secular ones, the Cortes of the kingdom would be the institution to control how bulas were preached. As Jerez pointed out, this was a regular demand from kings, aimed at preventing any kind of uncontrolled intervention of Rome in the Castilian Church.67 However, in the comuneros’ proposal, it would be the cities and the rest of the social forces represented in the Cortes that would also monitor this kind of activity. Therefore, this would be, like in many aspects of the Comunero Revolt, a way to put under the cities’ control something that was regularly under the king’s jurisdiction. Furthermore, the rebels also requested the supervision of the preaching and the donations by the local justice of each village, town, or city, as in the case of the alcaldes. The comuneros’ petitions, at least 62. Alain Tallon, La France et le concile de Trente (1518–1563), 2nd ed. (Rome, 2017), 721. 63. “[S]e prediquen en las Yglesias Catedrales e colegiales con los lugares do no las hoviere e se den a los curas e a las tales Yglesias para que ellos las divulguen e prediquen a sus parrochianos e que no sean traydos por la fuerza,” petition 61 of the petitions of Francisco de los Ángeles, reproduced as an appendix in: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 661. These petitions are in AGS, Comunidades de Castilla, Leg. 2, fol. 266. 64. José Antonio Benito Rodríguez included the house of the concejo as a possible place to preach the bula, see Benito Rodríguez, La Bula de Cruzada, 230. 65. See Shaffern, “The Medieval Theology of Indulgences,” 30–31. 66. On the cruzada preachers, see: Benito Rodríguez, La Bula de Cruzada, 261-65. 67. Jerez, Pensamiento político, 538. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 521 on this point of the preaching of the crusading indulgences, say nothing about the advance of the Crown over the urban justices through figures such as the Corregidor, an aspect largely analyzed in other petitions.68 On the ecclesiastical controls, the quoted petitions show a clear insistence on giving power to the local church: cathedrals, colegios, and even parishes would have controlled the preaching of the indulgences. It would also have put a limit to the involvement of bankers and financers in the organization of this process. This type of action would also have attacked one of the fundamental aspects of the crusading indulgences—its capacity to intervene over local religious life—and its relationship with the rest of the alternatives proposed by the Church to people for salvation. Patrick J. O’Banion has largely analyzed the situation of the crusading indulgence during the sixteenth century. He notes how, despite criticism, the cruzada continued to proliferate for centuries.69 For O’Banion, besides the fiscal dimension of this particular indulgence, very useful for the monarchy and a usual object of denunciation, it had an important religious sense for the Spaniards. Like any other indulgence, the bula offered an opportunity to escape the control of the local church.70 In the words of O’Banion, it “allowed purchasers to bypass episcopal attempts to regulate the religious lives of the laity.”71 Thus, by sacrificing a small amount of money, lay people could receive several spiritual privileges. It should be pointed out that the economic resources were also central for the Church when it came to taking care of souls: this was a clear and accepted relationship. Money and resources were also required for pastoral care. King Philip II, for example, tried to divide some Castilian bishoprics and he was accused of putting the dioceses at risk of impoverishment with such a measure because it generated problems in the accomplishment of pastoral duties.72 68. On the corregidores: Benjamín González Alonso, El corregidor castellano (1348– 1808) (Madrid, 1970). On the corregidores and the Comunero Revolt: Agustín Bermúdez, “Los comuneros ante los corregidores castellanos,” in: Monarquía y Revolución: en torno a las Comunidades de Castilla: I Simposio Internacional de Historia Comunera (Valladolid, 2010), 117–39. 69. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?”; O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance, 91–109. 70. The importance of the local dimension is a widespread view for the study of Early Modern Catholicism. See: Beat Kümin and Felicita Tramontana, “Catholicism Decentralized: Local religion in the Early Modern Periphery,” Church History, 89 (2020), 268–87. For Spain, the classical work on this topic: William Christian, Jr., Religiosidad local en la España de Felipe II, trans. Javier Calzada and José Luis Gil Aristu (Madrid, 1991). This is a Spanish extended version of the original 1981 English work. 71. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 166. 72. Maximiliano Barrio Gozalo, El clero en la España Moderna (Córdoba, 2010), 25. 522 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE Therefore, without any royalist intention, through the bula the comuneros attempted to limit the king’s intervention in the religious options of his subjects. At the same time, their claims were in a area of dispute: the uses of the crusading indulgence remained as a monarchic resource, and the war against the “enemies of the faith” was not usually mentioned in the sermons of cruzada preachers. Thus, the rebels’ petitions were aimed at repairing the control of the local church, which was always threatened by the likelihood that the parishioners would avoid making their Lenten confession to the parish priest thanks to the privileges granted by the indulgence.73 The differences among the petitions could be an example of the religious and ideological divisions among the rebels. The substantial criticisms against the bula, notwithstanding, it enjoyed remarkable popularity among the people. Jerez posited that the comuneros’ criticisms against the abuses of the crusading indulgence coincided with popular opinion.74 Scholar Manuel Giménez Fernández held a similar opinion.75 However, this coincidence cannot be maintained: despite the considerable efforts to stop the circulation and the abuses of the bula, it is impossible to claim that it was unpopular.76 On the contrary, as O’Banion claimed, thanks to the bulas, millions of Spaniards could ignore episcopal regulations and appeal to any licensed confessor, no matter what the synodal constitutions demanded.77 The considered “abuses” were many times what provoked the cruzada’s popularity. The comuneros’ position seemed to be contrary to many of these extended attitudes. The Comunidades of Castile in sixteenth-century religious crossroads The Fourth Lateran Council of 1215 had obliged Christians to confess annually to their parish priest. Based on these changes, the Catholic bishops had tried to keep a record in each parish of the parishioners who confessed to their correspondent priests. However, the major episcopal effort to regulate this and bring it under their control did not occur until the six73. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 182–83. Another fundamental factor of intervention in the local power of the bishops was their lack of control of all the benefices of the dioceses, many times controlled by lay patrons: Maximiliano Barrio Gozalo, El sistema beneficial de la Iglesia Española en el Antiguo Régimen (1475–1834) (Alicante, 2010), 21–22. 74. Jerez, Pensamiento político, 544–45. 75. See: Manuel Giménez Fernández, Bartolomé de las Casas II: Capellán de S. M. Carlos I. Poblador de Cumana (1517–1523) (Madrid, 1984), 331. 76. The popularity of indulgences was present also in the English case before the Reformation: Robert N. Swanson, Indulgences in Late Medieval England: Passports to Paradise? (Cambridge, England, 2007). For a general perspective, see: Jean Delumeau, Rassurer et protéger: Le sentiment de sécurité dans l’Occident d’autrefois (Paris, 1989), 352–84. 77. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 166. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 523 teenth century, especially after the Council of Trent (1545–63). Therefore, before and after the Comunidades, the bula intervened or dissolved an entire tradition in the history of the Church.78 The great danger for souls, from the perspective of pastoral control, was precisely the lack of specificity in the indulgence. At the same time, it was this quality that made the indulgence attractive to its bearers. This contradictory interest, which was a clear limitation to local pastoral aspirations, did have a religious goal for bula’s donors: to choose their confessor and by that to follow diverse strategies to obtain salvation. Lay people could continue to confess their sins, but not to the corresponding priest of the local parish. This produced a certain flexibility, especially in the rural world, where the options of confession were limited.79 The case of “solicitations,” for instance, could be an important example where the confessors were changed thanks to the cruzada. Thanks to the bula, women could choose another confessor without denouncing the priest who had made them an “indecent proposal” before the Inquisition—the tribunal which had jurisdiction over “solicitations” in Early Modern Spain—which could be a more difficult matter.80 The crusading indulgence was strongly attacked during the Council of Trent and endangered during the following years due to the actions of Pope Pius V (1566–72). The point of dispute was mostly the impact of the “Theses”—usually called the Ninety-Five Theses—of Martin Luther and their success in the subsequent reform movements, both within and outside of Protestantism.81 It should be noted that in Luther’s initial writings, far from the ideas he developed later, were many fervent criticisms against the abuses caused by the indulgences, some of which were similar to those discussed in this article. Through a moderate comparison, a common and fundamental aspect of the criticism of indulgences, present in many other ecclesiastical reform impulses of the Late Middle and the Early Modern 78. O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance, 71. On confession in early modern Europe, see: Annemarie S. Kidder, Making Confession, Hearing confessions: A History of the Cure of Souls (Collegeville, MN, 2010); Roberto Rusconi, L’ordine dei peccati: La confessione tra Medioevo ed età moderna (Bologna, 2002); Jean Delumeau, L’aveu et le pardon. Les difficultés de la confession XIII e–XVIII e siècle (Paris, 1990). 79. On the multiple possibilities of confession and religious practice in the urban world, see: Jacques Chiffoleau, “Note sur le prolycentrisme urbain religieux à la fin du Moyen Âge,” in: Religion et société urbaine au Moyen Âge: Études offertes à Jean-Louis Biget par ses anciens élèves, eds. Patrick Boucheron and Jacques Chiffoleau (Paris, 2000), 227–52. 80. On “solicitation” in early modern Spain and the Inquisition: Stephen Haliczer, Sexuality in the Confessionary: A Sacrament Profaned (New York, 1996). 81. See: David Bagchi, “Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses and the Contemporary Criticism of Indulgences,” in: Promissory Notes on the Treasury of Merits, 331–55. 524 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE Ages, can be established: the need to supervise the Church’s proposed means for salvation. Misuse of such means could lead to the condemnation of people who thought they were being saved.82 This was not only a Lutheran position: at the Council of Trent, as it was mentioned, it was also advanced by the French delegation, the enemy of the Spanish one, which was the main supporter of the attacks against indulgences.83 Thus, the crusading indulgence survived the attacks of erasmistas, conversos, alumbrados, Protestants, and some movements of ecclesiastical reform.84 It even increased its popularity in the second half of the sixteenth century, as one among many other options to gain salvation. It also remained a fundraising strategy for the Spanish Monarchy. In a population of between six and eight million people from 1578 to 1589, the cruzada sold around 3,600,000 and 4,000,000 buletas each year, showing that they were purchased by a high percentage of the people.85 Furthermore, not only the comuneros’ texts but also some royalist statements give a broader image of the rebels’ positions, which many times suffered a process of moderation when they were written: there were probably some more radical positions than those expressed in the petitions.86 A letter from Adrien of Utrecht, dated July 10, 1520, summarized some of the petitions’ ideas: the rebels “preached” a thousand insults against the cruzada, arguing that the money was taken from poor people and not used for fighting the infidels or to rescue those who were captives of them. According to Adrien, these “preachings” needed to be stopped, or everyone 82. An English version of Disputatio pro declaratione virtutis indulgentiarum (1517) can be found in: Martin Luther, Selections from His Writings, ed. John Dillenberger (Garden City, NY, 1961), 489–500. 83. On France and the Council of Trent, see: Tallon, La France et le concile. For the crusading indulgence and the Council of Trent: O’Banion, “Only the King can,” 555–58; Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la Bula, 517–61. On Pope Pius V’s intervention: Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la Bula, 562–612. 84. All these groups are difficult to define and they often appear related. Erasmistas were the Spanish followers, translators and readers of the famous humanist Erasmus of Rotterdam (1466–1536). Conversos referred to the New Christians, people who converted to Christianism from Judaism or Islam. The descendants of these people could also be called conversos, not merely the first generation. Conversos from Judaism could also be called—with a negative content—marranos. Conversos from Islam could also be called Moriscos. The conversos are an important problem of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries in Spain. Alumbrados was an inquisitorial category for different people who were tried as heretics by the Inquisition, especially from 1525 onwards. 85. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 168. 86. On the authors of the comuneros’ petitions, see: Jerez, Pensamiento político, 103–05. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 525 (all Castilians or all Spaniards) would come to have the same opinion (todos seran de un parecer mismo).87 Almirante’s instruction, dated April 15, 1521, a few days before the battle of Villalar, reported (perhaps exaggerating) that if the comuneros won, there would be no Inquisition, no crusading indulgence, no servicio nor tercias.88 From these testimonies, the royalists’ perception of the rebels’ opinions seemed to be a more extreme situation than the mere end of abuses. Considering these texts as a possible record of the background of the comuneros’ petitions, which was excluded from them, it can be inferred that the revolt was a threatening situation for the bula. For some supporters of the king’s point of view, the cruzada was under real danger.89 Many times, the rebels, as well as the Cortes of Castile, tried to intervene in the manners granting access to salvation, the economy of the Church’s treasure, and the forms of regulation of the religious life of the people. Likewise, there is a persistent image of religious diversity: one of the main objectives for people who obtained the bula—to avoid control by the local parish priest—could be a motive for criticism for some urban and ecclesiastical powers. The case of the indulgences and their abuses, although present in many declarations, were not part of the ecclesiastical reform program of the Catholic Kings in the late fifteenth century, or of most of the subsequent synods and provincial councils made from this starting point, as John Edwards rightly stated.90 87. “[O]trosi dicen mil vituperios de la Cruzada que el dinero que se coie del sudor de los pobres que no se gasta ni emplea paral fin a que es ordenado porque no se paga a la gente darmas ni a las naues que son en africa ni se defienden los Reynos de la invasion de los infieles. Las Galeras y fustas ahun no son apareiadas y los infieles toman y cada dia cativan cristianos de vuestros reynos en gran numero. Estas y semejantes cosas se dizen y predican entre vuestos pueblos, y sino vieren algún castigo sobre la rebellion sin miedo todos serán de un parecer mismo,” Danvila y Collado, Historia crítica, I, 423–24. 88. “[D]izen que no abra inquisición ni cruzada ni seruicio ni pagaran tercias,” Ibid., III, 594. The servicio was a subsidy voted by the Cortes and it was for the monarch’s extraordinary expenses. Tercias probably referred to the tercias reales, the royal share of the tithe, equal to two-ninths of the tithe. 89. Goñi Gaztambide gives an image of the weak situation of the bula during the whole of the sixteenth century, caused by the pope and the doubts of the Spanish clergy on the subject: Goñi Gaztambide, Historia de la Bula, 482–501. These doubts led to a meeting of theologians summoned by Philip II in May 1567, see: O’Banion, “Only the King can.” 90. Edwards, “España es diferente,” 162–63. One can refer here to the poor results of the prerreforma or ecclesiastical reform of the Catholic Kings, see: Sara T. Nalle, God in La Mancha: Religious Reform and the people of Cuenca, 1500–1650 (Baltimore, 1992), 24; Arturo Morgado García, Ser clérigo en la España del Antiguo Régimen (Cádiz, 2000), 13–17; Helen Rawlings, Church, Religion and Society in Early Modern Spain (New York, 2002), 50–77. 526 THE CRUSADING INDULGENCE The comuneros’ statements are not part of a simple, homogeneous bloc of “ecclesiastical reform,” passing through the fifteenth to the sixteenth centuries, with the monarchy having a leading role in it. Therefore, the position of the comuneros’ suggestions is not easy to define. There was not merely one sole context in which to place them: there were religious claims of ecclesiastical reform beyond the monarchical and papal attempts. Jerez’s characterization of the mistrust toward indulgences cannot be upheld considering recent studies.91 The comunero thought was not reflecting a popular feeling, but rather a sign of a complex situation, both for the crusading indulgence and for the comunero revolt in the Castilian society of the sixteenth century. John Edwards has suggested that the views on indulgences were neither homogeneous nor universally held.92 In this sense, religious heterogeneity seems to have prevailed: due to the absence of criticisms against the crusading indulgence in the program of ecclesiastical reform of the Crown, other currents of criticism for a more righteous economy of salvation could be proposed. Sara T. Nalle, in her classic work, God in La Mancha: Religious Reform and the people of Cuenca, 1500–1650, characterized the second half of the sixteenth century as the Golden Age of Purgatory in Spain because of the huge amount of people’s resources being allocated to gain freedom from purgation and to releasing the souls restrained there.93 This concern was not generalized, however: Lu Ann Homza showed how many of the most important Spanish writers of the century, some of them canonized afterwards by the Catholic Church, did not refer to some points considered fundamental, such as purgatory, the Masses for the souls of the dead, and the mediation of the saints.94 Therefore, a principle of religious heterogeneity—where the reduction to two or three homogeneous positions was impossible for religious matters—must have prevailed. The crusading indulgence seems to have been a broadly used resource among the population. However, dissident voices are easy to find in spaces 91. Jerez, Pensamiento político, 544. 92. Edwards, “España es diferente,” 164–65. 93. Nalle, God in La Mancha, 191. Also: Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory. On the impact of the Council of Trent in Spain, see: Ignasi Fernández Terricabras, Philipe II et la ContreRéforme: L’Église espagnole à l’heure du Concile de Trente (Paris, 2001). 94. Homza, Religious authority, 113–49. Nalle noted the weak presence of the topic of purgatory in the wills before Trent in the sixteenth century. The expansion of the idea of purgatory coincided with the expansion of the teachings of the Council: Nalle, God in La Mancha, 191–93. On the defense of purgatory after the Council of Trent in Spain, see: María Tausiet Carlés, “Gritos del más allá: la defensa del purgatorio en la España de la Contrarreforma,” Hispania Sacra, 57, no. 115 (2005), 81–108. CLAUDIO CÉSAR RIZZUTO 527 of disputation of power such as the Cortes or an important revolt such as the comuneros’. Stuart B. Schwartz, like other historians before, dedicated an important book to some ideas of salvation, skepticism, and tolerance in the Atlantic World of the Early Modern Period, which disagreed with the mainstream notions, such as intolerance towards other religions or the necessity of the institutional Church for salvation.95 Although it is not possible to include these topics here, a fundamental principle of this work can be noted: salvation was not only an element of concern for people, but also one of discussion. The received methods for salvation were not indisputable at all, neither for laypeople nor for members of the clergy.96 Considering these aspects, a more heterogeneous context can be suggested: the rebels’ ideas were intended to regulate the options for salvation that the ecclesiastical institutions, in this case with the support of the king, offered. The rejection of the crusading indulgences or their abuses and the popularity of the bula were both possible attitudes towards the options available.97 The criticism of the cruzada, for instance, did not necessarily imply rejecting the use of money for salvation. Other possibilities of involving money, such as the stipends for Masses for the souls in purgatory, or more specific indulgences, could still be considered acceptable.98 The comuneros’ petitions underlined the importance of the cathedrals and parish churches, as well as other aspects of religious life, such as the regulation of pastoral care by bishops.99 For the Comunidades, the mention of the abuses is but one element within a more programmatic ecclesiastical proposal, coinciding, for example, in some ways with the propositions of the Council of Trent or with the Catholic Kings’ ecclesiastical reform. Nevertheless, there were many controversial topics, as was the case of the cruzada analyzed here.100 95. Stuart B. Schwartz, All can be saved: Religious tolerance and salvation in the Iberian Atlantic World (New Haven, CT, 2008). 96. On this point, also see: Gretchen D. Starr-Le Beau, In the shadow of the Virgin: Inquisitors, Friars, and Conversos in Guadalupe, Spain (Princeton, 2003). 97. On the popularity of indulgences, see: Edwards, “España es diferente,” 168; O’Banion, The Sacrament of Penance, 101–04; O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 184–85. 98. O’Banion, “For the defense of the Faith?” 179–80. 99. On the comuneros and bishops’ task, see: Claudio César Rizzuto, “La imagen del Obispo ideal en la revuelta de las Comunidades de Castilla (1520–1521),” Historia, Instituciones, Documentos, 47 (2020), 405–29. 100. The diversity of perspectives on spirituality and ecclesiastical reform in Spain can be addressed by examining the classical study of Eugenio Asensio, El erasmismo y las corrientes espirituales afines: Conversos, franciscanos, italianizantes (Salamanca, 2000). More recently, see: Lu Ann Homza, “The Merits of Disruption and Tumult: New Scholarship on Religion and Spirituality in Spain during the Sixteenth Century,” Archive für Reformationsgeschichte, 100, no. 1 (2009), 218–34. From the Dove to the Eagle: Jansenist Visual Culture Between Piety and Polemic RICHARD T. YODER* The Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, the popular eighteenth-century Jansenist periodical, is a bellwether for changes in the priorities of the Jansenist movement. The annual frontispieces that decorated many editions of the paper from 1727 to 1763 are a site where these priorities are presented in an evolving visual rhetoric. Early images that focus on theological struggle, centered on ecclesiastical actors, gradually give way to a neoclassical visual sensibility in conjunction with an increasing emphasis on “bon François” political concerns. By examining these frontispieces, we can trace a gradual Jansenist shift towards patriotic politics. Key words: Jansenism, print culture, France, religious controversies, Jesuits Introduction The condemnation of Jansenism in the papal bull Unigenitus (1713) set off a firestorm across Europe. Opposition was particularly strong in France, where critics of the bull could be found at all levels of the clerical hierarchy as well as among the laity.1 The Jansenist newspaper, the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, was a key arena where this struggle was litigated from its founda* Richard T. Yoder is a doctoral candidate in the History PhD program at Pennsylvania State University, where he is writing a dissertation on the intellectual history of religious convulsions in early modern France. An earlier version of this paper was presented at the 2020 ACHA annual meeting, and was supported by the PSU Department of History and by ACHA through the Presidential Travel Grant. The author would like to thank Dr. Ronnie Hsia, Dr. Amanda Scott, Dr. Shaun Blanchard, Mr. Timothy Dulle, and especially the four anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments and support in the preparation of this manuscript. The author would also like to thank Ms. Marie Giraud for her advice and encouragement, as well as sharing a copy of her master’s thesis. Finally, the author would like to thank the PSU Department of History for their support in this publication. His email address is: rty5025@psu.edu 1. Jacques Gres-Gayer, “The Unigenitus of Clement XI: A Fresh Look at the Issues,” Theological Studies, 49, no. 2 (June, 1988), 259–82. 528 RICHARD T. YODER 529 tion in 1728 all the way to its closure in 1803.2 Widely read in spite of attempts by the police to crack down on its publication, the Nouvelles is a bellwether for changes in the theological tendency known as “Jansenism.” With a name that originated as a pejorative term coined by Jesuits, “Jansenism” combined three key elements: a strongly predestinarian reading of Augustine on the efficacy of grace, moral-sacramental rigorism, and a vision of Catholic reform that centered on the ascetic ideals of retreat and penance. Cornelius Jansen (1535–1638), Bishop of Ypres, is regarded as the fountainhead of this tendency. His Augustinus (1640) offered a late and strictly Augustinian contribution to the sixteenth-century controversies on grace fought between Thomists and Molinists, the “De Auxiliis Controversy,” so named for the Vatican commission which adjudicated the matter. After five propositions on grace drawn from Jansen’s text were condemned by Pope Innocent X in 1653, a fierce struggle in France erupted over the interpretation of and subscription to the bull of condemnation. Both Jesuits and the French Crown opposed the “disciples of Saint Augustine,” seeing in them a potentially rebellious, quasi-Calvinist sect. For their part, the Jansenists regarded the Jesuits as leading the faithful to theological error (through Molinism) and laxism (through casuistry, Blaise Pascal’s target in the 1656–57 Lettres Provinciales). The controversy centered on the Parisian monastery of Port-Royal. Nuns led by the reforming Mère Angélique Arnauld and her sister Agnès refused to assent to the bull, with some facing imprisonment. Port-Royal was suppressed by royal edict in 1709 and destroyed two years later, but this aggression from Louis XIV’s government only inspired further Jansenist resistance. The far more comprehensive condemnation of 101 Jansenist propositions in the papal bull Unigenitus (1713), which offended Gallicans as much as true Augustinian rigorists, deepened the divisions in the French Church.3 2. Monique Cottret, “Les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques et l’histoire religieuse du XVIIIe siècle: un chantier en movement,” in: Les Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques: Une aventure de presse clandestine au siecle des Lumieres (1713–1803), eds. Monique Cottret and Valérie GuittienneMürger (Paris, 2016), 11–48, here 14. 3. There is a vast historiography on Jansenism. This highly condensed summary of the Jansenist controversy relies especially on René Taveneaux, La Vie quotidienne des jansénistes aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles (Paris, 1973); Jean Delumeau, Catholicism between Luther and Voltaire: A New View of the Counter-Reformation, trans. Jeremy Moiser (London, 1977), 99– 118; Gres-Gayer, “The Unigenitus”; Catherine Maire, “Port-Royal: The Jansenist Schism,” in: Realms of Memory: Rethinking the French Past, 3 vols., ed. Lawrence D. Kritzman, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (New York, 1996–98), I, 301–51; Dale K. Van Kley, The Religious Origins of the French Revolution: From Calvin to the Civil Constitution, 1560–1791 (New Haven, 1996); Pierre Chaunu, Madeleine Foisil, and Françoise de Noirfontaine, Le basculement 530 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE But the Jansenism that succeeded Unigenitus was not a stable phenomenon. It evolved over time, and both its priorities and its strategies shifted with circumstances. Among other changes, Jansenists began to deploy an exegetical method known as figurism in their writings, rites, and readings of contemporary events. Figurism interprets scripture as foreshadowing the history of the Church via “figural” language. Practically, this meant applying Biblical prophecies to the present state of the Jansenist movement. In the Old Testament, Jansenists read their own status as a “remnant of the faithful” persecuted by wicked apostates.4 Catherine Maire writes that, according to figurists, “Within the Church there existed an uninterrupted series of repositories of truth, Augustine’s community of saints. That tradition of truth culminated in Port-Royal and its cause, which stood to become the foundation of a new lineage.”5 Figurism was thus well-suited to a movement that would brook no compromise in matters of doctrine. The Nouvelles adhered to figurism since its foundation, which was in part inspired by the figurist belief that “Public opinion was the best tribunal for deciding where the true word of God was to be found.”6 This appeal to the public fed, and was in turn fed by, a series of causes célèbres, several of which united the Nouvelles with supporters in the Parlement of Paris.7 The Parlement of Paris had long been an important center of legal opposition to the bull, and the “éminence grise”8 of postUnigenitus Jansenism, Louis-Adrien Le Paige, was a prominent avocat in the Parlement of Paris with a fervent commitment to figurist theology.9 Le Paige was the unofficial leader of a core Jansenist group within the Parlement that, although always a minority, remained nevertheless an active, vocal, and influential one.10 religieux de Paris au XVIIIe siècle, Essai d’histoire politique et religieuse (Paris, 1998); John J. Conley, Adoration and Annihilation: The Convent Philosophy of Port-Royal (Notre Dame, 2009); Daniella Kostroun, Feminism, Absolutism, and Jansenism: Louis XIV and the Port-Royal Nuns (Cambridge, UK, 2011); John J. Conley, The Other Pascals: The Philosophy of Jacqueline Pascal, Gilberte Pascal Périer, and Marguerite Périer (Notre Dame, 2019). 4. Maire, “Port-Royal,” 316–17, 326, 328–29, 332; Catherine Maire treats figurism at much greater length in Catherine Maire, De la cause de Dieu à la cause de la Nation: Le jansénisme au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1998), especially 86–234. 5. Maire, “Port-Royal,” 316. 6. Ibid., 317. 7. Mita Choudhury, Convents and Nuns in Eighteenth-Century French Politics and Culture (Ithaca, 2004), 33–69; for a study of causes célèbres generally, without special reference to Jansenism, see Sarah Maza, Private Lives and Public Affairs: The Causes Célèbres of Prerevolutionary France (Berkeley, 1993). 8. Maire, De la cause, 404–15. 9. Ibid., 378–472. 10. David Garrioch, The Making of Revolutionary Paris (Berkeley, 2002), 146. RICHARD T. YODER 531 One can see both the prevalence of figurism and change over time in the visual production of eighteenth-century Jansenists, including in the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques. This study will focus on the annual frontispieces of the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques.11 The frontispieces provide a condensed argument for the Jansenist cause. These images, though relying upon an established visual lexicon and allusions recognizable to the literati, also appealed to illiterate or less-educated “ordinary men and women” through their use of satire, symbolism, and exaggeration.12 The frontispieces for each year were paired with “un discours introductif,” usually surveying the history of the conflict between adherents of the “Truth” and their enemies.13 Both image and text “hammered home the message that the Constitution perverted the Gospel and infringed on traditional liberties of the Gallican church by repressing the Jansenists.”14 In this respect, the annual frontispiece and introductory discourse worked together to provide a figurist historical exegesis for each year’s key events of Jansenist interest.15 Yet the frontispieces were often sold as loose-leaf engravings independent of the journal’s text.16 This form of distribution would have widened their impact, and it allows one to analyze the imagery on its own terms, rather than as a mere illustration of the text. Christine Gouzi is right to suggest that these visual works would have been widely comprehensible, even by those who did not read the newspaper itself.17 And indeed, the artistic elements of the journal, including the frontispieces, were not under the supervision of the editors who oversaw the text. Gouzi has highlighted this fact, noting, 11. For a comprehensive list of the frontispieces, see Christine Gouzi, “Annexe II: Liste chronologique et exhaustive des frontispices des Nouvelles ecclésiastiques,” in: Les Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques: Une aventure de presse clandestine au siecle des Lumieres (1713– 1803), 345–50. 12. Arlette Farge, Subversive Words: Public Opinion in Eighteenth-Century France, trans. Rosemary Morris (Cambridge, 1994), 40. 13. Jean Sgard, “Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques,” in: Dictionnaire des journaux 1600–1789, ed. Jean Sgard (Paris, 1991). Accessed December 13, 2019, at Centre international d’étude du XVIIIe siècle, 2019, http://c18.net/dp/dp.php?no=1027; Maire, De la cause, pp. 230–31. 14. Leonor Rouse, “Jansenists, Printing, and Censorship: Unigenitus 1713–2013,” Ascendonica, Rare Books and Special Collections Department of the Catholic University of America, June 23, 2014. Accessed December 13, 2019, http://ascendonica.blogspot.com/ 2014/06/jansenists-printing-and-censorship.html. 15. Maire, De la cause, 230–31. 16. Christine Gouzi, “L’illustration des Nouvelles ecclésiastiques,” in Les Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques, 95–128, here 99. 17. Ibid., 117. 532 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE However, the hypothesis of a simultaneous command of the journal’s text and of the engravings’ design is barely defensible. The conception and fabrication of the frontispieces seems in effect totally separate, both from the writing of the articles properly considered, but also from their weekly printing . . . there is no link between the apparently watertight worlds of the editors of the journal and that of the engravers who worked for the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques.18 This separation is an important point, for it allows us to pursue the meaning of the frontispieces apart from (though informed by) the rather singleminded theological fixations of the journal’s texts. The frontispieces are thus an important site for the symbolic solidification of late Jansenist concerns, and they must be taken on their own terms. This study argues that, although the newspaper’s text remained largely fixated on the religious elements of the Jansenist controversy, the classicizing aesthetic evolution of the frontispieces points to a shifting sensibility among Jansenists, away from an exclusive focus on partisan theology and towards a concern with patriotic politics. In doing so, it hopes to demonstrate the value of aesthetic analysis for historians of Catholicism, especially those who work on periods of religious and political controversy, or on the evolution of anti-Jesuitism. This essay will build on recent historiographical developments, especially on Gouzi’s art-historical studies of the Nouvelles, while engaging with historians such as Dale Van Kley, whose theory of an increasingly political, “proto-‘patriotic’” Jansenism within a broader “Reform Catholicism” is supported here.19 Mid-century Jansenists, especially those associated with the Parlement of Paris, revived the patriotic “bon François” ideology of the Wars of Religion in support of their own cause.20 This study specifically argues that the aesthetic evolution of the frontispieces is one site within Jansenist visual culture where one can see this process playing out at the popular level. 18. Christine Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 2007), 70–71; unless otherwise noted, all translations from the French are my own. “Cependant, l’hypothèse d’une commande concomitante du texte du journal et du dessin des gravures est peu défendable. La conception et la fabrication des frontispices semblent en effet totalement séparées, à la fois de l’écriture proprement dite des articles, mais aussi de leur impression hebdomadaire . . . il n’existe aucun lien entre les mondes apparemment étanches des rédacteurs du journal et celui des graveurs qui officièrent pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques.” 19. Dale K. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism and the International Suppression of the Jesuits in Enlightenment Europe (New Haven, 2018), 150. 20. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 23, 71, 90, 97. Van Kley attributes this revival to Unigenitus itself, the promulgation of which immediately re-joined the University, the Parlement, and the curés of Paris, into the old “bon François” alliance. See Ibid., 90–91. RICHARD T. YODER 533 The temporal scope of this study is limited to the first few decades of the paper’s existence. This choice was made in view of both the primary source base and the context available. 1728 was the first year to feature a frontispiece; 1763 was the last year in which the Nouvelles issued one.21 This study also thereby locates late middle Jansenism between two key events: the defeat at the Council of Embrun in 1727 and the parlementaire triumph over the French Jesuits in 1763. Both events are political, and both are ecclesiastical. One cannot separate the spheres of church and state at this point in French history. Yet there is an observable shift in the illustrative emphases of the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques—a turn towards symbolism that foregrounds patriotic political struggle at the cost of theological priorities or even the presence of the supernatural. This turn became more and more apparent around the middle of the century and illustrates an important change in the wider Jansenist movement. Historiographical Considerations The crisis of Unigenitus, a turning-point in the history of the Jansenist controversy, also marks a division in the historiography of Jansenism. Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve, one of the founders of Jansenist history, refused to carry his study much beyond the final destruction of Port-Royal in 1711.22 The historiography of the eighteenth century has grown considerably over the last fifty years. Among the landmarks of this shift are groundbreaking studies of post-Unigenitus Jansenism, convulsions, and politics by B. Robert Kreiser, Catherine Maire, and Dale K. Van Kley.23 The Jansenist newspaper, the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, has thus become an increasingly important text for historians of the period. In a 1955 article, Françoise Bontoux provides an overview of the journal’s origins.24 In an 21. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 99. 22. Insofar as he touches upon the dispute over Unigenitus and the subsequent convulsionnaire affair, he does so mainly through a limited examination of the later life and career of the figurist theologian, Jacques Joseph Duguet. See Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve, Port-Royal, 4th ed., vol. 4 (Paris, 1878), 41–82. That said, there were some important early studies of the later Jansenists. See Augustin Gazier, Histoire générale du mouvement janséniste depuis ses origines jusqu’à nos jours, 2 vols. (Paris, 1922); Edmond Préclin, Les jansénistes du 18e siècle et la constitution civile du clergé (Le développement du richérisme, sa propagation dans le Bas Clergé, 1713–1791) (Paris, 1929). 23. B. Robert Kreiser, Miracles, Convulsions, and Ecclesiastical Politics in Early Eighteenth-Century Paris (Princeton, 1978); Catherine-Laurence Maire, Les Convulsionnaires de Saint-Médard: miracles, convulsions, et prophéties à Paris au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1985); Maire, De la cause; Van Kley, The Religious Origins. 24. Françoise Bontoux, “Paris janséniste au XVIIIe siècle: les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques,” in: Mémoires de la Fédération des sociétés historiques et archéologiques de Paris et Île-de-France, vol. 7 (1955), 205–20. 534 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE essay of 1991, Madeleine Foisil, Françoise de Noirfontaine, and Isabelle Flandrois write that the paper “played an exceptional, decisive role” in the “religious basculement that happened in the eighteenth century.”25 In Subversive Words (1992), Arlette Farge demonstrates the newspaper’s power to shape public opinion. She notes that it was “the only newspaper to give much space to popular speech or to appeal to public opinion, and it based its strategy on the idea that the people were one of the best and most active justifications of Jansenist endeavors.”26 Farge suggests that in its attention to popular opinion and the individual experience of the many ordinary people whose stories it covered, the Nouvelles promulgated a Catholic individualism that changed the relationship between king and subjects.27 Monique Cottret, in her major 1998 study of Jansenism and the French Enlightenment, could note that “All the specialists consult and cite the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques . . . when they study the reactions to such and such philosophical work.”28 Recently, a volume of essays on the Nouvelles has appeared under the editorship of Monique Cottret and Valérie Guittienne-Mürger; this collection covers the production and reception of the paper, as well as its role during the Revolution.29 Most of the foregoing work, however useful, focuses heavily on the newspaper’s textual element.30 Nevertheless, there has been some recent work which takes the imagery of the Nouvelles as a subject of analysis. This tendency has been prominent in French scholarship, such as in recent essays by Pierre Wachenheim (2010) and Christine Gouzi (2016).31 Gouzi’s art-historical contribution has been particularly important in opening up this area of 25. Françoise de Noirfontaine and Isabelle Flandrois, “Un journal de polémique: les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques,” in: Histoire, Économie et Société, 10, no. 3 (1991), 399–420, here 399: “[the Nouvelles] a joué un rôle exceptionnel, décisif” in the “basculement religieux qui s’est produit au XVIIIe siècle.” 26. Farge, Subversive Words, 36: “Tous les spécialistes consultant et citent les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques . . . lorsqu’ils étudient les réactions à telle ou telle œuvre philosophique.” 27. Ibid., 51–53. 28. Monique Cottret, Jansénismes et Lumières. Pour un autre XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 1998), 7. 29. Monique Cottret and Guittienne-Mürger, Les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques: Une aventure de presse clandestine au siècle des Lumières (1713–1803). 30. For instance, Bernard Plongeron makes no use of the frontispieces or other illustrations in an early article on the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques (1967); John McManners explains some of the scenes illustrated in the Nouvelles, but his analysis is too cursory on the whole. See Bernard Plongeron, “Une image de l’Église d’après les ‘Nouvelles ecclésiastiques’ (1728– 1790),” Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France, 53, no. 151 (1967), 241–68; John McManners, Church and Society in Eighteenth-Century France, vol. 2 (Oxford, 1998), 424. 31. Pierre Wachenheim, “Les remontrances représentées: donner à voir les remontrances au XVIIIe siècle,” in: Le monde parlementaire au XVIIIe siècle: L’invention d’un discours politique, ed. Alain Lemaître (Rennes, 2010), 89–119; Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 95–128. RICHARD T. YODER 535 research. Her 2007 study, L’Art et le jansénisme au XVIIIe siècle, includes the first major scholarly analysis of the frontispieces, firmly establishing a network of clandestine Jansenist visual production under the shadow of Unigenitus.32 Marie-José Michel has pointed to a Jansenist visual culture based on the commemoration of prominent Jansenists such as the circle around Port-Royal and, later, the protagonists of the struggle against Unigenitus.33 One cannot separate the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques from this environment. And, in an unpublished master’s thesis, Marie Giraud extends this line of analysis by focusing on depictions of convulsionary miracles within the broader Jansenist print culture that Gouzi and Michel describe.34 On the other hand, the historiography of early modern print culture in general, and French print specifically, has at times tended to overlook the impact of the Nouvelles.35 But there are also exceptions to this oversight. For example, in an important early study, Cyril O’Keefe traces the mostly-hostile reaction of the Nouvelles, along with two other newspapers, to the developing of the French Enlightenment.36 In an article on the Nouvelles’s production and struggle with the police, David Coward makes the valuable point that “The paper, in generating its own mythology, itself became an actor in the drama and as such was, in the long run, one of the [Jansenist] cause’s most valuable assets.”37 As Henri-Jean Martin has noted, the earlier Jansenist controversies played a major role in swelling the ranks of seventeenth-century publications.38 The arrival of the Nouvelles in reaction to the later controversies after Unigenitus did much the same. Church Politics and Print The Nouvelles ecclésiastiques arrived in the midst of an escalating crisis within the French Church. In 1717, four bishops formally appealed the bull Unigenitus to a future ecumenical council. Eventually, around a tenth of all 32. Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme. 33. Marie-José Michel, Jansénisme et Paris, 1640–1730 (Paris, 2000), 363, 366, 376, 424. 34. Marie Sophie Giraud, “Convulsionary miracles and women in print culture in France, 1737–1747” (unpublished Master’s Thesis, University of Birmingham, 2014). 35. Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, The Printing Revolution in Early Modern Europe, 2nd ed. (Cambridge, UK, 1983); Henri-Jean Martin, The French Book: Religion, Absolutism, and Readership: 1585–1715, trans. Paul and Nadine Saenger (Baltimore, 1996). 36. Cyril B. O’Keefe, Contemporary Reactions to the Enlightenment (1728–1762): A Study of three critical journals: the Jesuit Journal de Trévoux, the Jansenist Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, and the secular Journal des Savants (Geneva, 1974). 37. David Coward, “The Fortunes of a Newspaper: The Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques (1728– 1803),” Journal for Eighteenth Century Studies, 4, No. 1 (March 1981), 1–27, here 23. 38. Martin, The French Book, 47–48, 84. 536 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE French clergy would support the “appellant” cause, including three-quarters of all Parisian curés.39 In 1727, one of the four original appellants, Bishop Jean Soanen of Senez (d. 1740), reissued his appeal to an ecumenical council against Unigenitus. Soanen forcefully condemned “royal ecclesiastical policy, the pope, and anti-Jansenist bishops,” holding that “only the appellants maintained the true faith.”40 The Chief Minister, Cardinal Fleury, was enraged at the renewal of opposition, and arranged for Soanen to appear at a provincial synod at Embrun. The bishops in attendance were overwhelmingly anti-Jansenist; they stripped Soanen of his see and exiled him to the Abbey of La Chaise-Dieu.41 That same year, healing miracles began occurring at the tomb of François de Pâris, a recently-deceased deacon in Paris who had subscribed to the appeal against Unigenitus. Pâris’s devotees, soon called convulsionnaires, were marked by an ardent opposition to Unigenitus, full-body convulsions, and violent rituals meant to prove their status as a true remnant of the faithful.42 Nicolas Lyon-Caen is surely right to suggest that it was the appellant cause (including its rout at Embrun) and the miraculous cures seeming to confirm it that took Jansenism from being a clerical movement to one with considerable lay support.43 That process could not have happened without the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques. The Nouvelles had already existed in sporadic forms from 1708, but it debuted anew in 1728, in part as a response to the events at Embrun.44 It soon proved to be a major focus of the ongoing battle between the authorities and the Jansenists. Edited clandestinely by the Jansenist Abbé Jean Fontaine de la Roche until his death in 1761, the Nouvelles emerged as one of the most popular weekly newspapers on offer in the French market.45 As David Coward notes, “readers were mainly drawn from the middle classes: ecclesiastics, gens de robe, merchants, shopkeepers and artisans.”46 Yet its 39. Van Kley, The Religious Origins, 86. 40. David Hudson, “The ‘Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques,’ Jansenism and Conciliarism, 17171735,” Catholic Historical Review 70, no. 3 (July, 1984), 389–406, here 390. 41. Séverine Boullay, “Le Tour de France de Gallica, étape 19 : Embrun,” Le Blog Gallica, 21 July 2017. Accessed 27 Nov. 2019, https://gallica.bnf.fr/blog/21072017/le-tour-defrance-de-gallica-etape-19-embrun?mode=desktop. 42. The literature on the convulsionnaire movement is also vast, but see especially Kreiser, Miracles, Convulsions; Maire, Les Convulsionnaires; Taveneaux, La Vie quotidienne, 184-200. 43. Nicolas Lyon-Caen, La boîte à Perrette: Le jansénisme parisien au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 2010), 85. 44. Hudson, “The ‘Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques,’” 390–91; Cottret, “Les Nouvelles,” 14. 45. Coward, “The Fortunes,” 4. 46. Ibid., 22. RICHARD T. YODER 537 content, which often described the experience of the lower classes in ways that no other journals of the time would, had an appeal well beyond the bourgeoisie.47 Its production and distribution in the Jansenist parishes in and near the Latin Quarter, such as Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, SaintSéverin, and Saint-André-des-Arts, also attracted students and seminarians as readers.48 The newspaper’s appeal was thus not strictly confined to the embattled Jansenists of the clerical establishment.49 Attempts at suppression, like the Archbishop of Paris’s condemnation of the journal as well as periodic police raids, only backfired and increased the paper’s popularity.50 Elizabeth Eisenstein has noted the importance of Dutch and Swiss presses in the rise of Francophone print culture during the eighteenth century. While she focuses on the printers who brought forth the works of authors of the magisterial Enlightenment, the same claim can be made of the Jansenist press.51 The Nouvelles ecclésiastiques was primarily a Parisian venture, but in the event of increased surveillance from the police, editions could be printed in various locations in the provinces, and even beyond France’s borders.52 Alongside these foreign presses were the workshops of sympathetic engravers, chief among them the Amsterdam-based Huguenot Bernard Picart.53 Even as early as the seventeenth century, Jansenism found a home in the printing houses of the low countries; Eisenstein characterizes their ethos as “cosmopolitan, ecumenical, and tolerant without being secular, incredulous, or necessarily Protestant.”54 Jansenism, like the Enlightenment, was an international venture requiring a cosmopolitan press.55 Monique Cottret has illuminated the “rencontres tangibles” between Jansenists and the French Enlightenment, especially in a common antiJesuitism, opposition to Chancellor Maupeou, and advocacy of religious 47. Farge, Subversive Words, 39. 48. Françoise de Noirfontaine, “Au temps de Noialles et de Vintimille, Archevêques de Paris,” in: Chaunu, Foisil, and de Noirfontaine, Le basculement religieux, 153–240, here 203. 49. In light of much subsequent research, we must reject O’Keefe’s assertion that the journal was “addressed primarily to the élite of the Jansenist party, the relatively small group of members who still understood the traditional doctrines and adhered to the moral teachings of Port Royal.” See O’Keefe, Contemporary Reactions, 11, 61; Michel, Jansénisme et Paris, 400. 50. Kreiser, Miracles, Convulsions, 242. 51. Elizabeth Eisenstein, Print Culture and the Enlightenment (Chapel Hill, 1986), 11–13. 52. Coward, “The Fortunes,” 10. 53. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 108–09. 54. Martin, The French Book, 47–48, 84; Eisenstein, The Printing Revolution, 199. 55. Not least because of the exiles of major Jansenist leaders from France and, eventually, the Spanish Netherlands. 538 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE FIGURE 1. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année. 1728/29/30 : [estampe]. Gallica.BNF.fr. tolerance.56 The Jansenist cause was not a hermetically-sealed, unitary movement; although Jansenist engagement with Enlightenment thought could be acrimonious, Jansenists mirrored the philosophes in their use of the press as well as in their anti-absolutist advocacy for civic toleration of religious minorities, and their religious commitments were increasingly bound up with these political demands as the eighteenth-century wore on.57 Glorious Battle: Theological Struggle in the Early Frontispieces58 The somewhat austere images from the 1730s loom especially large in the establishment of Jansenist iconography. For that reason, I will give spe56. Cottret, Jansénismes et Lumières, 117–214, 299. 57. Ulrich L. Lehner, The Catholic Enlightenment (New York, 2016), 51–53. 58. For art-historical reasons, Gouzi groups the images somewhat differently than I have. As my concern here is less to analyze production than aesthetic shifts over time in con- RICHARD T. YODER 539 cial emphasis to the frontispieces from the publication’s first decade of existence. The first frontispiece, engraved by Picart’s student Jacob Folkema, collects the years 1728, 1729, and 1730.59 In a format that probably owed much to the recent emergence of almanacs, it foregrounds ecclesiastical and theological conflict in an arrangement of six medallions around the border of the page (see Figure 1).60 The Council of Embrun takes the top spot. The Holy Spirit descends on Bishop Soanen in the form of a dove, while a dark cloud overshadows and rains upon the assembly. The conflict between the appellants and their persecutors is conceived of as a spiritual war. The illustrators dramatize dueling divine and diabolical influences, which are then worked out in the various medallions around the rest of the page, including imprisonment in the Bastille, the stocks, and the closing of the Jansenist Collège de Sainte-Barbe in 1729.61 The 1731 frontispiece takes up the theme of battle in more explicit terms (see Figure 2). Gouzi identifies here a number of qualities that seem to suggest a fraught production in France, under threat of discovery. The images seem to crowd out the text, as if the engravers cared about conveying the polemical urgency of the scenes more than advertising a journal.62 The eight medallions display vignettes of “the weapons of the Jansenists” and “the weapons of the Molinists.”63 This framing reflects the centrality of theological struggle; calling the Jansenists’ opponents Molinists rather than ultramontanes, laxists, Jesuits, constitutionnaires, or even simple heretics is a deliberate choice. It hearkens back to the emergence of Jansenism in the wake of the De Auxiliis controversy.64 The arms of the Jansenists consist of “Truth,” “Miracles,” and “Piety.”65 The first is illustrated with a depiction of an ecumenical council in which both an Emperor and St. Augustine appear—though not the junction with broader changes in Jansenism, I have not felt it necessary to follow her arrangement. See Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 87, 100. 59. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 109–10. 60. Ibid., 113–16. 61. Peter R. Campbell, Power and Politics in Old Regime France, 1720–1745 (London, 2003), 202, 204; Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 78–79 62. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 111. 63. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année 1731: [estampe], Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed November 3, 2019. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b8408779b.r=frontispice %20nouvelles%20ecclesiastiques%20estampe?rk=128756;0. 64. Antonio Astrain, “Congregatio de Auxiliis,” The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 4 (New York, 1908), 238–39. 65. Frontispice 1731. 540 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE FIGURE 2. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année. 1731 : [estampe]. Gallica.BNF.fr. Pope. The legend at the bottom of the page describes “la vérité renfermée dans l’Écriture Ste et les Stes Pères.”66 “Truth” is thus a consensus of the faithful as confirmed in the Scriptures, the ecumenical councils, and Patristic Tradition, in line with the conciliarist ecclesiology of appellant Jansenism. The “Miracles” medallion shows supplicants at the tomb of François de Pâris, with the Jansenist Deacon and two other holy clerics above them in the clouds. “Piety” is represented by the nuns of Port-Royal des Champs in a Eucharistic procession.67 These three medallions create a trans-historical bond between the Patristic sources of Christian tradition, the early Jansenists, and the more recent appellants and convulsionnaires. 66. Ibid. 67. The specific view of the monastery used here comes from one of the paintings of Port-Royal by Madeleine de la Boullongne that was later popularized as an engraving by Madeleine Horthemels. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 111; Michel, Jansénisme et Paris, 363. 68. Frontispice 1731. RICHARD T. YODER 541 By contrast, the Molinists’ weapons include “Exile, Banishment,” “Prison,” and “Ignominious Punishment.”68 In the first, clerics as well as a parlementaire with his family are confronted by priests who seem to harangue them. In the second, a number of clergy and a pious woman are marched into a fortress by armed men. In the third, a surpliced clergyman stands at a stake in the public square, his hands bound, a sentence upon his breast. These are less character-specific scenes than those in the Jansenist column, even though they undoubtedly take their inspiration from a variety of actual episodes. At the top of the page is “Obstinacy,” a depiction of the Pope shutting his eyes to a crowd of appellants; the legend describes this scene as “la justification de la proposition 99 de la Constitution Unigenitus.”69 At base is a medallion of “Prevention,” with a crowd of soldiers and priests—mostly prelates and Dominicans, presumably Inquisitors and thus representatives of a foreign legal system—burning a book, “the life of the B. Paris . . . at Rome.”70 There is a notable contrast between the pristine antiquity of “Truth” and Rome’s contemporary corruption of doctrine in the two central medallions. This contrast was a widely reiterated trope of Jansenist thought in the early eighteenth century.71 These images are overtly political, though their register remains ecclesiastical and not temporal. As with the 1728/1729/1730 frontispieces, ecclesiological issues claim a central position in the composition of the piece. Scenes set in Rome, including purely imagined ones such as the top left medallion of “Truth,” slightly widen the periodical’s otherwise quite narrow focus on French news, even as they highlight the Nouvelles’s almost exclusively ecclesiastical interest. Both church politics and theology inform the other vignettes. Yet the inclusion of an exiled parlementaire gestures towards the secular-political concerns of Parisian Jansenists. Robert 69. Ibid; the condemned proposition reads, “Pertinacity, prevention, obstinacy in being unwilling either to examine anything, or to perceive that one has been deceived, do daily, in the case of many, change into the odour of death that which God placed in his Church to be therein the odour of life, to wit, good books, instructions, holy examples, &c. 2 Cor. ii. 16.” See Clement XI, “Condemnation of the Errors of Paschasius Quesnell by Clement XI,” in Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, trans. Theodore Alois Buckley (London, 1851), 345-58, here 358, Wikisource, accessed August 29, 2021. https://en.wikisource.org/ wiki/Canons_and_Decrees_of_the_Council_of_Trent/Second_Part/Condemnation_of_the _Errors_of_Paschasius_Quesnell. 70. Frontispice 1731. 71. Van Kley has made this point forcefully in Dale K. Van Kley, “Civic Humanism in Clerical Garb: Gallican Memories of the Early Church and the Project of Primitivist Reform 1719–1791,” in Past & Present, 200 (2008), 77–120; see also Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 51–52. 542 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE FIGURE 3. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année. 1733 : [estampe]. Gallica.BNF.fr. Kreiser notes that in 1732, the Nouvelles was already lionizing the parlement for its opposition to Archbishop Vintimille in the controversies around the convulsionnaires.72 The 1733 frontispiece goes further (see Figure 3). Here, six vignettes depict “the Fruits of the Constitution Unigenitus.”73 Several of these scenes depict specific places, theaters of conflict between Jansenists and their enemies. At bottom right is a depiction of “the parlements oppressed.”74 A haloed figure, probably representing Justice or Truth, stands in chains next to a prelate, who shows several parlementaires out of their hall. Above the door where they exit is a sign reading “palace to rent.”75 This vignette 72. Kreiser, Miracles, Convulsions, 242. 73. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année 1733 : [estampe], Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed 3 Nov. 2019. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b8408805c.r=frontispice%20 nouvelles%20ecclesiastiques%20estampe?rk=107296;4. 74. Frontispice 1733. 75. Ibid. RICHARD T. YODER 543 reflects parlementaire sympathy for Jansenism and anticipates the further unification of Jansenist and parlementaire interests in the 1740s and 50s.76 There are other politically charged images. One vignette shows a rotund man holding a sword and a crosier (representing both secular and ecclesiastical authority) as he blocks the gate of a cemetery. The caption reads “St. Médard closed.”77 With the support of Cardinal Fleury, the Paris police closed the cemetery in 1732 as a means of stopping the Jansenist convulsionnaires who crowded there to seek miraculous cures.78 Next to this image is a scene in the Sorbonne, showing a large crowd of doctors being rushed out of an assembly room by a rump of diabolically horned constitutionnaires. The Sorbonne had been widely regarded as the most important theological faculty in Catholic Europe, and it had supported the appeal against Unigenitus (in part to assert its own Gallican independence; it was not consulted in the bull’s preparation).79 In 1729, Cardinal Fleury “deprived over one hundred doctors,” all committed Jansenists, “of their right to attend Faculty assemblies.”80 This coup from above was completed in 1741, when Fleury ruled that every doctor of the Sorbonne had to accept the Crown’s policy on Unigenitus.81 The Jansenists never recovered their place within the academy; the fact that the events of 1729 are still appearing here in 1733 points to the bitterness that Fleury engendered among them. It also demonstrates that the frontispieces are not simply presentist documents. They are sites that gather and re-present memory for a living and future audience.82 And they are all intensely focused on one location in particular, “the city and diocese of Paris, that is to say, the greatest theater in the world,” where God can expose such events “to the view of all Europe” and “the whole Universe.”83 The local focus of the image mirrors the content of the journal, which was mainly drawn from Paris at this early point in its life.84 The theatrical language in the introductory discourse calls 76. Maire, De la cause, 378–420. 77. Frontispice 1733. 78. Kreiser, Miracles, Convulsions, 207–16. 79. David Hudson, “The Regent, Fleury, Jansenism and the Sorbonne,” French History, 8, no. 2 (June 1994), 135–48, here 136–38. 80. Hudson “The Regent,” 144. 81. Ibid., pp. 146–47. 82. Maire, “Port-Royal,” pp. 301–02. 83. Nouvelles écclésiastiques ou mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la Constitution Unigenitus pour l’année MDCCXXXIII, 1733, Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed 25 Aug. 2021, p. 2. “Et ce n’est pas sans dessein que Dieu a permis que ce fût principalement dans la ville & le diocèse de Paris, c’est-à-dire sur le plus grand théâtre du monde: car où pouvoient-ils être plus exposés à la vue de toute l’Europe, & d’où pouvoient-ils se répandre plus aisément dans tout l’Univers?” 84. Farge, Subversive Words, p. 38. 544 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE for visualization of the key events of recent Jansenist history, which the frontispiece in turn supplies. There is also a significant innovation in the visual rhetoric of the Nouvelles in the 1733 frontispiece. The top left vignette shows a statue of a horned and crowned woman labelled “Mystery.”85 She holds in her right hand the thunderbolts of Jupiter, and in her left, a cornucopia from which cascade gold, crowns, galeros, and miters. On her dress are the words, “Je suis seul Reine,” or “I am Queen alone.”86 Accommodating prelates carry her train, while a Jesuit encourages princes to offer her crowns. The scene is titled, “l’abomination dans le lieu Saint,”—“the Abomination in the Holy Place.”87 This phrase is a reference to the Book of Daniel, Revelation, and the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, where it appears in apocalyptic prophecy.88 The title “Queen” here evokes Babylon in Revelation 18:1-7. But the queenly “Abomination” in question is identifiably Unigenitus.89 The inclusion of this image demonstrates the embrace of figurism by the Nouvelles. Although present from the beginning—the Nouvelles’s initial editorial staff included major figurist theologians—it was not until 1733 that the illustrators foregrounded this fundamental theological framework in an annual frontispiece.90 Along with the other vignettes, this figurist allegory reflects a retrenched militancy in view of the publication’s condemnation by Parisian Archbishop Vintimille in 1732.91 The frontispieces of the 1730s thus address and are firmly embedded within the ecclesiastical politics of their day. The persecution of Jansenists by the authorities is constructed in view of ecclesiastical and theological categories, especially figurism. All of these early frontispieces are marked by a noticeable austerity— the few decorative elements that appear outside the vignettes are all strictly 85. Frontispice 1733. 86. Ibid. 87. Ibid. 88. Francis E. Gigot, “The Abomination of Desolation,” The Catholic Encyclopedia, 17 vols. plus supplement (New York, 1907–22), I, 46. 89. “L’abomination dans le lieu saint, La Constitutions Unigenitus,” 1730, Bibliothèque de Port-Royal, Est 541. Reproduced in Olivier Andurand, “Fluctuat nec mergitur, les hésitations du cardinal de Noailles,” Cahiers de recherches médiévales et humanists, 24 (2012), electronically published December 1, 2015. Accessed December 18, 2019, http://journals.openedition.org/crm/12926, DOI: 10.4000/crm.12926. 90. Michel, Jansénisme et Paris, 421–22. 91. Michel, Jansénisme et Paris, 328; Noirfontaine, “Au temps de Noailles,” 226–28. RICHARD T. YODER 545 subordinated to the figural narration of Jansenist grievances. It is as if the message is too important to allow baroque flourishes to distract the reader. But the decorative elements would eventually come to the fore as an important space for the articulation of other messages—and these would be more political in nature, and not strictly theological. Locating the Supernatural: Politico-Theological Conflict in the Middle Frontispieces The 1740s saw a dip in polemical publications from the Jansenist press generally.92 In line with this trend, the Nouvelles stopped printing annual frontispieces from 1743 until 1757; it did, however, continue to include illustrations on its title pages.93 Maire notes that, up to 1749, the journal’s chief concern remained the fight against Unigenitus.94 The 1740 frontispiece is noteworthy for the new predominance of decorative elements, which are far more salient and carry far more symbolic weight than in previous years (see Figure 4). Its four medallions depict typical complaints such as the burning of Jansenist writings, punishment in the stocks,95 excommunication of Jansenist clergy, and interment of Jansenist bodies in profane ground. Nevertheless, the clue to a slight shift in Jansenist attention is rather to be found in the decorative rather than the illustrative elements of the frontispiece. These include three symbolic motifs, each arranged in the shape of a St. Andrew’s cross. On the left is an ouroboros surrounding a crossed torch and sword, with the Latin device “Sine Fine Dolor,” or “pain without end,” on an accompanying banderole.96 The motif on the right largely replicates this pattern; the ouroboros 92. Maire, De la cause, 136. 93. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 99. 94. Maire, De la cause, 125. 95. The identity of the figure here is probably Martin Baudrier, a driver arrested for propagating prohibited Jansenist literature and later taunted by Jesuits while in the stocks. See Farge, Subversive Words, 47; Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 79, 110; Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, 2 Apr. 1730, Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed 30 Aug. 2021, p. 1. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/ bpt6k6305286/f53.item; The fact that he appears here twenty years later testifies to the fact that the journal’s illustrative elements are still wedded to the task of commemoration. 96. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, M. DCC XL : [estampe], Gallica. BNF.fr, accessed November 3, 2019. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b8408937p.item. I should note that I have referred to this document in-text as a title page in deference to Christine Gouzi’s assertion that there were no frontispieces published at this time. However, I have kept the citation as a frontispiece because both the BNF’s catalogue and the document itself declares it to be a frontispiece. 546 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE FIGURE 4. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, M. DCC XL : [estampe]. Gallica.BNF.fr. is surmounted by a crown and surrounds a crossed olive branch and palm. The banderole here reads “Aeterna corona,” or “eternal crown.”97 These are the fates that await ultramontanes and Jansenists respectively: hell or heaven. Yet these rather abstract symbols of divine power point to another, similar image of earthly power. At the top of the page, between two vignettes, we discover a crossed sword and scepter. Above these hangs a set of scales, upon which is superimposed an open book. The pages are blank, so we cannot tell if this book represents the Bible, a Missal, or perhaps the Law in general. The turn towards the affairs of Parlement suggests the latter.98 It is worth noting that, apart from a Janus-headed angel at the base of the title cartouche, there are no explicitly supernatural elements of the imagery in this fron97. Frontispice M. DCC XL. 98. By 1760, the journal’s “index contained 318 columns in fine print recapitulating ‘measures taken by Parlement for the public good and means used to oppress this illustrious Company,’” i.e. the Jesuits. See Maire, “Port-Royal,” 326. RICHARD T. YODER 547 FIGURE 5. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, M. DCC LXI : [estampe]. Gallica.BNF.fr. tispiece. The replacement of supernatural scenes by vaguer, almost purely decorative symbolism anticipates another important development in later Jansenism, a turn towards patriotic politics.99 Here, more than in the earlier frontispieces, we see the “intermixing of the profane and the sacred in religious subjects” that Gouzi has described.100 The 1741 frontispiece by Nicolas Jean-Baptiste de Poilly, however, turns again to the centrality of the supernatural in the struggle against Unigenitus (see Figure 5).101 The four medallions in each corner depict episodes in historical time, all of which are merely natural events (i.e. the death of Bishop Soanen). The two to the right and left of the title, however, depict supernatural events. On the left, a dragon roars over cowering doctors of the Sor99. Dale K. Van Kley, The Damiens Affair and the Unraveling of the Ancien Régime, 1750–1770 (Princeton, 1984), 58–60, 270. 100. Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 110: “entremêlement du profane et du sacré dans les sujets religieux.” 101. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 117. 548 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE bonne, though a few flee in terror. This scene, entitled “The beast demands a second homage from the new Sorbonne,” refers to Fleury’s 1741 decision to make subscription to the bull mandatory within the Sorbonne.102 Opposite this vignette, we see a bishop in the clouds praying to a luminescent triangle, with a group of supplicants below. Referring to an allegedly miraculous cure attributed to the intercession of Soanen, the image deploys the supernatural as a legitimating phenomenon of the Jansenist party. This supernaturalist strategy was well-worn in Jansenist discourse. Even as early as the mid-seventeenth century, “the sentiment . . . of constituting the little chosen troupe stirred up in them the thirst of a constant justification,” especially through miraculous cures.103 Such cures had been reported at the tombs, churches, and processions of several appellants in the wake of Unigenitus.104 The most famous of these were the miracles at the cemetery of Saint-Médard, engendering the convulsionnaire movement. As we have already seen, the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, born the year after François de Pâris’s death, had supported the convulsionnaires.105 One of the central vignettes of the 1738 frontispiece, identifiably attributed to the Jansenist engraver Charles-Nicolas Cochin, shows supplicants at a tomb with the label, “The same virtue works miracles at Arras as at the Tomb of B. P.,” (Blessed Pâris).106 At the center of the frontispiece stands Louis-Basile Carré de Montgeron, a conseiller of the Parlement imprisoned in the Bastille for writing a work defending the miracles at St. Médard.107 While they would eventually reject the convulsionnaires in 1742, the editors and readers of the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques were nevertheless no strangers to highly partisan supernatural proofs.108 The 1741 frontispiece is thus consistent with earlier concerns of the newspaper, and suggests important sym102. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, M. DCC LXI : [estampe], Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed November 3, 2019. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b840896 50.r=frontispice%20nouvelles%20ecclesiastiques%20estampe?rk=214593;2; Hudson, “The Regent,” 146-47. 103. Taveneaux, La Vie quotidienne, 180; “le sentiment . . . de constituer le petit troupeau choisi, attisèrent chez eux la soif d’une constante justification.” 104. McManners, Church and Society, 437–39. 105. Frontispice 1731. 106. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, 1738 : [estampe], Gallica.BNF.fr. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b84088840.r=frontispice%20nouvelles%20ecclesiastiques%20estampe?rk=85837;2; Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 105–06. 107. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 113, 115. Gouzi notes elsewhere that Montgeron was personally connected to the printers of the newspaper; see Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 71. 108. Maire, Les Convulsionnaires, 143. And indeed, in that year the introductory discourse still endorsed miraculous cures elsewhere, such as at the tomb of Bishop Soanen, for “Les miracles sont l’alphabet des simples.” See Nouvelles écclésiastiques ou mémoires pour servir RICHARD T. YODER 549 FIGURE 6. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, 1742 : [estampe]. Musée Carnavalet. Carnavalet.Paris.fr. Creative Commons. bolic and thematic continuity over the first two decades of its existence. If anything, it helps us see the relative anomaly of the imagery from 1740, where divine imagery was muted precisely through political symbolism in the decorative elements of the page. Yet the 1742 frontispiece (see Figure 6) also has little of the supernatural in its explicit imagery, perhaps to shake off the newspaper’s past association with convulsions. It presents the typical six vignettes of appellant scenes. The image is dominated by an imposing eagle at the middle center, which holds an unfurled scroll entitled “Nouvelles ecclésiastiques” in its beak. The precise meaning of this bird, which Gouzi calls an “aigle-phénix,” is not spelled out, but the eagle’s extraordinary powers of perception were a commonplace trope.109 The eagle was thus a frequent symbol of prophecy. The à l’histoire de la Constitution Unigenitus pour l’année MDCCXLII, 1742, Gallica.BNF.fr, 2. Accessed August 30, 2021. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k630540v. 109. Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 92; Gouzi suggests that this symbol represents Truth. Possibly, but if so, it is a Truth that emerges from the Nouvelles’s figurist reading of contemporary events in light of the Prophecies. 550 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE matching introductory discourse opens with both a citation from Isaiah and a quote from the figurist theologian Duguet that begins, “It is the Prophet who speaks,” thereby reinforcing this prophetic interpretation.110 There are also, however, classical and imperial connotations to the eagle, given its long association with the Roman Empire. In the 1742 frontispiece, the eagle stands over a large central cartouche that quotes three Psalm verses, two of which refer to “les Nations.”111 This Old Testament appellation for gentiles is here applied implicitly to all who subscribed to Unigenitus. Beneath the cartouche is a dog holding two lanterns, along with the legend “Il n’aboit point, mais il éclaire”—“He does not bark, but he illumines.”112 This dog represents the Nouvelles, which, though clandestine, promises to enlighten its readers as to the true state of affairs in the Church. Decorative elements, especially allegorical ones, become increasingly important in communicating the journal’s views. Moreover, the close proximity of the imperial-prophetic eagle and “les Nations” foreshadows a later, more straightforwardly political frontispiece. The controversy over the refusal of communion, extreme unction, and viaticum to Jansenists, a policy of the hardline Archbishop Christophe de Beaumont of Paris, became a chief concern for the newspaper and its allies from 1749 to roughly 1757.113 This policy spread to other dioceses where pro-Unigenitus bishops reigned, such as Sens and Amiens.114 Jansenist resistance was by no means limited to the pages of its leading popular journal. The Parlement of Paris stepped in and, in direct contravention of the Archbishop’s orders, ordered priests to administer the sacraments to all the faithful, even without proof of subscription to Unigenitus.115 For their trouble, the Royal Council exiled the Parlement from Paris to nine provincial cities in 1753.116 Yet even as controversy raged in Paris during the 1750s, the journal became more international than ever. Van Kley notes that this period saw 110. Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, 1742, 1: “C’est le Prophète qui parle.” 111. Frontispice pour les Nouvelles ecclésiastiques de l’année, 1742 : [estampe], Musée Carnavalet, Carnavalet.Paris.fr. https://www.parismuseescollections. paris.fr/fr/musee-carnavalet/oeuvres/frontispice-pour-les-nouvelles-ecclesiastiques-pour-l-annee-1742. 112. Frontispice 1742. 113. Maire, De la cause, 125, 396-97; Van Kley, The Religious Origins, 140, 142–54. 114. Madeleine Foisil, “Au temps de l’Archiépiscopat de Christophe de Beaumont, Archevêque de Paris, 1746–1781, Le sommet de la crise et la déroute,” in: Chaunu, Foisil, and de Noirfontaine, Le basculement religieux, 243–382, here 284. 115. René Taveneaux, “Présentation,” in: Jansénisme et politique (Paris, 1965), 38. 116. Van Kley, The Religious Origins, 144. RICHARD T. YODER 551 “the vertiginous rise in [the journal’s] international coverage of events and publications in Catholic Europe outside France,” a trend that grew as the century wore on.117 This growth coincided with an international movement against the Jansenists’ longstanding enemies: the Society of Jesus.118 And in an era when French Jansenists were becoming increasingly internationalized in their concerns and connections across Europe, their anti-Jesuitism took on a political cast that, though patriotic, applied well beyond the borders of France itself.119 Jansenists of the 1750s and 60s became especially concerned with the Jesuits insofar as they were thought to threaten the security of states through regicide. Jansenist fixation with Jesuit plots of assassination was given a boost in 1757 during the Damiens Affair. In January of that year, an unemployed servant by the name of François Damiens attempted to assassinate Louis XV. He made only minor wounds with a pen-knife. Although the attack was relatively minor, Damiens was immediately suspected of being part of a greater factional plot. He had served in the households of several prominent parlementaires known to be Jansenists, a fact lost on few observers. The Jansenists, for their part, argued that Damiens was a cipher of the Society of Jesus.120 The Nouvelles did not weigh in on the matter until March, around the time of Damiens’s brutal execution.121 Even then, the paper only devotes a single paragraph to advertising a conspiratorial pamphlet attributing Damiens’s motive to “induction étrangère,” foreign influence.122 Nevertheless, Gouzi argues convincingly that the Damiens Affair led to the restoration of propagandistic frontispieces in the Nouvelles from the late 1750s.123 And the wider Jansenist suspicion of Jesuit involvement would have longer political ramifications. Against Babylon: Political Jansenism in the Later Frontispieces By 1760, the Jansenist cause was mutating. The events of the previous ten years had hardened and focused the political stance of the editors. The refusal-of-sacraments controversy had retrenched the struggle between opponents and supporters of Unigenitus. The specter of regicide raised by 117. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 45 118. Ibid., 45. 119. Ibid., 39–45. 120. Van Kley, The Damiens Affair, passim. 121. Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques, March 20, 1757, Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed December 18, 2019, 49. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k1149794/f49.item; Farge, Subversive Words, 40. 122. Quoted in Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques, March 20, 1757, 49. 123. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 122–24. 552 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE the Damiens Affair heightened the stakes for all parties. The result was an era that Catherine Maire refers to as “a period of drift and overkill.”124 In the wake of Portugal’s expulsion of the Jesuits from its territories in 1759, the Parlement of Paris began to assert its rights through a similar effort to expel the Society of Jesus from France. The Parlementaire assault on the Jesuits coincided with the journal’s most vigorous and politically pointed war against the Jesuits yet. Indeed, Gouzi reads the frontispieces from 1757 to 1763 as a single series meant to “explain and . . . justify the destruction of the Society of Jesus.”125 These efforts would contribute to the Society’s eventual French suppression in 1763, what Dale Van Kley has called the “most signal victory during the eighteenth century” of “the hard-core Jansenist variant of reformist Catholics.”126 None of this is meant to suggest that the Nouvelles abandoned theology. The article that opens the 1760 edition attributes the Jesuit expulsion from Portugal to the “hand of God,” for it was in Lisbon that Luis de Molina and various other casuists laid “all the foundations of their Pelagian system, which strips from God His empire over hearts, to invest man with it.”127 But the visual rhetoric of the newspaper in the 1760s turns to allegory divorced from any specifically religious character. We can perhaps understand why by looking at the major accents of mid-eighteenth-century opposition to the Jesuits. In 1761, Louis-Adrien Le Paige published a major work of anti-Jesuit history, the Histoire générale de la naissance et des progrès de la compagnie de Jésus. The Nouvelles ecclésiastiques promoted this work.128 Although Le Paige accuses the Jesuits of teaching bad theology, this is only one of many charges. More damning were the several allegations clustered around the central claim that the Society’s constitutions were inherently “despotic” and of dubious legality in Gallican France.129 124. Maire, De la cause, 397: “une période de dérive et surenchère.” 125. Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 104: “expliquer et . . . justifier la destruction de la Société de Jésus.” 126. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 125. For the broader narrative of the suppression, see Ibid., 109–240. 127. Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, January 2, 1760, Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed December 13, 2019, Aug 31, 2021, p. 2. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k6305553/f1.image: “La main de Dieu en effet est ici trop visible pour la méconnoître. . . . C’est à Lisbonne, comme on sait, que les Jésuites avoient jetté dès 1588 par le Livre de Molina tous les fondemens de leur sistème Pélagien, qui enlève à Dieu son empire sur les coeurs, pour en revêtir l’homme.” 128. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 104–05. 129. Le Paige, quoted in Ibid., 104; in calling the Jesuits “despotic,” Le Paige fed a growing discourse around “clerical despotism” that had crystallized in the 1750s around Archbishop Beaumont and his allies due to the refusal-of-sacraments controversy. See Choudhury, RICHARD T. YODER 553 This charge of “despotism” was also indirectly about the Bourbon monarchy itself, for the Jesuits were here a “harbinger of where the monarchy seemed headed.”130 As Van Kley notes, Le Paige attacked the Society of Jesus for The pretentious inclusion of Jesus by the Society in its name; its hermaphrodite character; its accumulation of papal privileges; its devious combination of simple and solemn vows; its pretense of poverty amid illgotten wealth; the mysterious instability of its constitutions; its incompatibility with the rights of universities and bishops; its threat to kingship and the papacy alike; its casuistry, Molinism, idolatry, and insatiable greed in action in Europe and in the mission fields.131 The point was not to convict the Jesuits of any one crime, nor to demonstrate their unorthodoxy. Instead, Le Paige aimed to demonstrate that in a very real sense, the Society of Jesus was incompatible with civilization as such, and French political civilization in particular. Such charges, many of which appealed to French patriotism, were calculated to rouse wider support beyond the fold of Jansenist true-believers.132 These ethical and political emphases are brought to bear on the frontispieces of the 1760s. For example, the 1762 frontispiece is emblematic of the evolution in Jansenists’ concerns (see Figure 7). Winged time, floating on a cloud, unveils a hag-like woman who holds a cross in her left hand and an upturned dagger in her right. She kneels before a pagan altar at the mouth of a cave where masked (and unmasking) figures watch in the darkness. At her feet are a chalice and a discarded mask. Apart from the cross and the altar’s Latin inscription, “Deo Mentiris,” or “you lie to God,” there are no identifiably Christian symbols here. It is all intensely neoclassical.133 Mid-century Jansenism starts to shed its previously sectarian visual narration in favor of symbolism that spoke in multiple discourses. This aesthetic shift nevertheless has roots in the Jansenist idealization of classical antiquity as a time of ecclesiastical purity.134 And here, at least, that aesthetic evocation of purity only underscores present-day corruption; Convents and Nuns, 54–69; Nicolas Lyon-Caen, “Une ecclésiologie en actes: Le jansénisme parisien au XVIIIe siècle,” in: “Libertas Ecclesiae”: Esquisse d’une généalogie (1650–1800), ed. Stéphane-Marie Morgain (Paris, 2010), 351–70, here 356–60. 130. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 23. 131. Ibid., 104-05. 132. Ibid., 105. 133. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 124. 134. Van Kley, “Civic Humanism,” 77–120; Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 51–52. 554 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE FIGURE 7. Frontispice de : Nouvelles ecclésiastiques ou mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la Constitution Unigenitus : [estampe], 1762. Gallica.BNF.fr. Detail. the woman clearly represents the Society of Jesus, as Parlement issued their arrêt suppressing the Jesuits in 1762.135 The frontispiece of 1763 crystallizes this tendency (see Figure 8). Its highly descriptive caption, opening with a figurist citation of Jeremiah 50:26 that compares the Jesuits to Babylon, is worth quoting at length: The Eagle, symbol of royalty, represents France, the crown of which he wears. The monster that he tramples at his feet represents the SOCIETY OF JESUITS, true BABYLON that intoxicated and thereby agitated all the nations with her wine. The gaze of the Eagle, steadily turned towards Heaven, beseeches him to purge the earth of this monster, the fatal cause of troubles and seditions, represented here by the stormy Sky. And the parricidal instruments with which the Society serves itself by bloodying Thrones and Empires, invite all the Powers of the Universe to exterminate it.136 135. Pollen, “The Suppression.” 136. Frontispice de : Nouvelles ecclésiastiques ou mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la Constitution Unigenitus : [estampe], 1763, Gallica.BNF.fr, accessed November 3, 2019. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b84096495.item; emphasis in original. “L’Aigle, sym- RICHARD T. YODER 555 FIGURE 8. Frontispice de : Nouvelles ecclésiastiques ou mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la Constitution Unigenitus : [estampe], 1763. Gallica.BNF.fr. This scriptural caption notwithstanding, nothing in the image itself is drawn from a specifically Christian visual lexicon. The pale sun, without so much as a cross to mark it as “Heaven,” naturalizes the supernatural. The hero here is no longer the oppressed Jansenist believer of the 1730s, but the French kingdom operating through the state; the latent imperial meaning of the Eagle in the 1742 Frontispiece (see Figure 6) comes to the fore at last. The patriotic unification of the nation, the state, and the king under the symbol of the eagle corresponds to Le Paige’s figurist-inflected jurisprudence. As Catherine Maire notes, “The mystical union between the Monarch and the Nation is the ultimate goal of the figurist avocat,” Le bole de la royauté, représente la France dont il porte la couronne. Le monstre qu’il foule aux pieds figure LA SOCIÉTÉ DES JESUITES, vraye BABYLONE, qui a enivre de son vin et en a agité toutes les nations, le regard de l’Aigle fixement tourné vers le Ciel le conjure de purger la terre de ce monstre, cause fatale des troubles et des séductions figurées icy par le Ciel orageux. Et les instruments parricides dont cette Société s’est servi pour ensanglanter les Thrones et les Empires, invitent toutes les Puissances de l’Univers a l’exterminer.” 556 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE Paige.137 Moreover, the loss of a narrative vignette layout in favor of allegorical tableaux, already in place by 1762, suggests that the frontispiece no longer functions as testament of immediate Jansenist suffering. The image instead puts forward a singular, summative representation of the situation, abstracted by allegory into a politically coherent vision. The national state, and not the church (even the remnant church of the Jansenists), becomes the central player here. In this visual schema, the persecution of Jansenists is no longer the main issue—though they implicitly identify with the triumphant eagle, France. The Jesuits are no longer “Molinists,” but regicides and rebels. Regicide is quite literally foregrounded; the ground is littered with Damiens’s knife, a rifle for the Távora Affair, and a barrel of gunpowder to represent ostensible Jesuit plots in France, Portugal, and England respectively. The appeal here is not merely to Jansenists per se, but to all subjects of the King who favor public order. In centering regicide, the frontispiece echoes the most pressing contemporary arguments of Jansenist parlementaires against the Society of Jesus. For example, in a two-hour speech before the parlement of Paris in July 1762, the Jansenist councilor-clerk Chauvelin “fixated on the theory and practice of regicide, which his attack on Jesuit casuistry enabled him to present as the most pernicious of probable opinions that the Society might embrace and act upon.”138 The frontispiece, like Chauvelin’s address, invokes both recent assassination attempts and older, more traumatic ones. Gouzi argues that this image draws upon the memory of the Wars of Religion, when Calvinists emblematically depicted the Pope as a serpent.139 Gouzi is half-right. It does evoke Leaguer violence, but not necessarily through deliberate visual echoes of sixteenth-century pamphlets; the point comes across, rather, by the explicit reference to Ravaillac as a synecdoche of Leaguer, Jesuit-influenced violence. In this sense, the image evokes and re-animates the old “bon François” ideology of anti-Jesuit, monarchical Gallicanism which emerged from the Wars of Religion.140 137. Maire, De la cause, 426: “L’union mystique entre le Monarque et la Nation est le but ultime de l’avocat figuriste.” 138. Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 127–30. 139. Gouzi, “L’Illustration,” 124–25. 140. Joseph R. Wachtel, “‘A “Bon François” Desirous of the Glory of the King’: IntraCatholic Anti-Jesuitism and the Collapse of the Port Royal Mission, 1610–1613,” in: Acadiensis: Journal of the History of the Atlantic Region / Revue d’histoire de la region atlantique 49, no. 2 (2020), 34–57; Joseph Bergin, The Politics of Religion in Early Modern France (New Haven, 2014), 94; Van Kley, Reform Catholicism, 70–71. RICHARD T. YODER 557 But by the same token, the frontispiece de-centers the seventeenthcentury controversy between the Jesuits and Port-Royal. To borrow a line from Catherine Maire, “It is no longer any question of Port-Royal, the emblematic power of which dissolved with the fading of the fact of her great antagonist.”141 What we see in the 1763 frontispiece is no longer the “civic humanism in clerical garb” that Dale Van Kley has analyzed, insofar as that civic humanism is here just on the point of shedding its religious vesture.142 In the earlier frontispieces, as in much writing by Jansenists on subjects not strictly ecclesiastical, both “secular and sacred modes were mutually reinforcing and externally influential.”143 Not so in the frontispieces of the 1760s. Gouzi is right to note that explicit illustration of Christ, the saints, and angels was always rare across all the frontispieces, but the gradual evacuation of the supernatural from the Nouvelles’s visual lexicon reaches its height here.144 Political conflict has replaced theological conflict; the stakes, insofar as they appear in this image, are now primarily temporal. Curiously, the opening discourse for 1763 does not share the triumphalist tone of the frontispiece. After fulminating against the Jesuits at some length, the author rehashes virtually the whole length of the Jansenist clash with the Society, all the way back to the De Auxiliis controversy.145 But there is little to rejoice about, even in view of the Society’s suppression, for The Society, it is true, no longer exists in France: but in what state today does it leave the Episcopate, the Universities, the Faculties of Theology, the Seminaries of the Second Order Clergy, and the People themselves? Could we rather deplore the degradation which has befallen the Episcopal Order, since the Jesuits have had such a role in the nomination of Bishops? . . . What prodigious difference between the present state of the Faculty of Theology of Paris, and that which there was 45 years ago! Since . . . the intrigues of the Jesuits and their partisans excluded therefrom more than 100 Doctors, who had been its life, strength, glory, and ornament. . . . What can we say of the state of almost all the Seminaries? Far from partaking of the spirit of piety and true Ecclesiastical science, 141. Maire, De la cause, 522: “Il n’est plus question de Port-Royal, dont la puissance d’emblème s’est dissoute avec l’évanouissement de fait de son grand antagoniste.” 142. Van Kley, “Civic Humanism,” 77. 143. Ibid., 107. 144. Gouzi, L’Art et le jansénisme, 109. 145. Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, January 2, 1763, HathiTrust, 2–5. Accessed December 18, 2019. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.a0003313079; as Maire notes, this tendency to go over past grievances was typical of the annual introductory discourses. But the growing disjunction between the discourse and the image becomes far more apparent at this later stage. See Maire, De la cause, 230–31. FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE 558 the young people draw there for the most part the spirit of ambition, of mercénarité, and of schism. . . . What is required therefore to take a real profit from this great event, and to put an end to this complication of evils, of which one cannot doubt that the Society of Jesuits was one of the principal causes?146 The effect is of a movement overly fixated on its old enemies and past theaters of war. The defeated Jesuits are the sum of all evil and the cause of all woes in the Church. This is a tired script by 1763. From this point on, French Jansenists would instead turn towards increasingly liberalizing political positions.147 The loss of their chief ecclesiastical opponents diffused what remained of their theological energies.148 Ulrich Lehner describes this late phase of Jansenism as a period which “no longer focused on grace but on the patriotic renewal of France,” as well as “purging the church from Baroque forms of piety, reforming the tithing system, and advocating the importance of Scripture.”149 The result was less a theological movement than a “branch of political activism.”150 All of these trends are anticipated visually in the neo-classical and patriotic frontispiece of 1763, a year that stands as a major turning-point in the history of French Jansenism. Conclusion Further research on the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques could extend and complete the picture with an examination of the latter half of the eighteenth 146. Nouvelles ecclésiastiques, January 2, 1763, GoogleBooks, 6–8. Accessed August 29, 2020. https://www.google.com/books/edition/Nouvelles_eccl%C3%A9siastiques_ou_m%C 3%A9moires/Yt9EAAAAcAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=nouvelles+ecclesiastiques+1763&prints ec=frontcover: “La Société, il est vrai, n’existe plus en France; mais en quel état laisse-t-elle aujourd’hui l’Épiscopat, les Universités, les Facultés de Théologie, les Séminaires, le Clergé du Second Ordre, et les Peuples mêmes? . . . Quelle prodigieuse différence entre l’état présent de la Faculté de Théologie de Paris, et ce qu’elle étoit il y a 45 ans? Depuis que par les intrigues des Jésuites et de leur partisans on en a exclus plus de 100 Docteurs, qui en étoient la vie, la source, la gloire, et l’ornement. . . . Que dirons-nous de l’état de Presque tous les Séminaires? Bien loin d’y prendre l’esprit de piété et de la vraie science Ecclésiastique, les jeunes gens n’y puisent pour la plupart que l’esprit d’ambition, de mercénarite et de schisme. . . . Que faut-il donc pour tirer de ce grand évènement un profit réel, et pour mettre fin à cette complication de maux, dont on ne peut douter que la Société des Jésuites n’ait été une des principales causes?” 147. Van Kley, The Damiens Affair, 58–60, 270. 148. At least in France. Shaun Blanchard has complicated this picture in his recent study of the 1786 Jansenist-reformist Synod of Pistoia. See Shaun Blanchard, The Synod of Pistoia and Vatican II: Jansenism and the Struggle for Catholic Reform (Oxford, 2020). 149. Lehner, The Catholic Enlightenment, 211. 150. Ibid., 211. RICHARD T. YODER 559 century. For instance, the international suppression of the Jesuits in 1773 is certainly another flashpoint of Jansenist memory. Jansenist opposition to Chancellor Maupeou around the same time resulted in a pamphlet war that would certainly have drawn the attention of the Nouvelles.151 And by 1790, some of the figurists of the Nouvelles were willing to embrace the reorganization of the French church by the Civil Constitution of the Clergy, though in 1793 the publication went into exile at Utrecht.152 The leading figure of the constitutional church, the Abbé Henri Grégoire, came from a Jansenist-influenced family.153 He was also a committed patriot, a Gallican, and, especially from the time of the Directory onward, a Jansenist sympathizer in his own right.154 It is likely he was formed, at least in the 1790s, by the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques; he certainly interacted with some of the journal’s staff when they moved to the organ of the Constitutional Clergy, the Annales de la religion, which he founded in 1795.155 A full study of the political shift in late Jansenism would analyze the impact of these events and figures in the pages of the leading Jansenist periodical. Though not, it must be said, in any more frontispieces. They are a source unique to the late-middle phase in the history of the Jansenist controversies. We can speak of a Jansenist visual culture emerging from these images insofar as the Nouvelles offered its readers a symbolically condensed, partisan vision of the Jansenists’ most pressing concerns of the day. Jansenists in the period from 1727 to 1763 relied upon the newspaper to serve as a unifying discursive base of their opposition to Jesuits, royal policy, and the episcopal establishment. Yet as time went on, the illustrators of the newspaper jettisoned much of its specifically religious symbolism in favor of a visual rhetoric with 151. Maire, De la cause, 161. 152. Maire, “Port-Royal,” 333; Maire, De la cause, 574–77; Guillaume Colot, “Une presse clandestine en Révolution: la fin des Nouvelles ecclésiastiques à Paris et les Annales de la religion,” in Les Nouvelles Ecclésiastiques: Une aventure de presse clandestine au siecle des Lumieres (1713–1803), 253–74, here 254–57. 153. Joseph F. Byrnes, Priests of the French Revolution: Saints and Renegades in a New Political Era (University Park, 2014), 20. 154. There is some dispute in the historiography over the extent and timeline of Grégoire’s affinity for the tradition of Port-Royal. Here, I follow the judgment of Catherine Maire and Alyssa Goldstein Sepinwall. See Maire, De la cause, 586–87; Alyssa Goldstein Sepinwall, The Abbé Grégoire and the French Revolution: The Making of Modern Universalism (Berkeley 2005), 52–54. 155. Dale Van Kley, “The Abbé Grégoire and the Quest for a Catholic Republic,” in: The Abbé Grégoire and His World, ed. Jeremy D. Popkin and Richard H. Popkin (Dordrecht, 2000), 71–107, here 104; Maire, De la cause, 586–89. 560 FROM THE DOVE TO THE EAGLE broader, nonsectarian appeal. The new prominence of neo-classical imagery reflects a Jansenist primitivism that was both civic and sacred in its connotations. Decorative elements are given more and more semiotic weight as narrative vignettes of Jansenist suffering or supernatural activity start to disappear. Eventually, as seen in the late frontispieces, the journal deploys allegory to communicate a patriotic politics evoking the Wars of Religion. This aesthetic shift, reaching its acme with the final frontispiece in 1763, has long roots in the earlier anti-Jesuit writings of Le Paige and others. Dale Van Kley locates the trend as early as the 1750s. According to Van Kley, everything about the refusal of sacraments controversy—the distinction between for extérieur and for intérieur, the conflicting considerations of the holiness of the sacraments and one’s reputation as a citizen— bespeaks the growing tension between the sacred and the secular, the church and civil society, thereby tending to sunder what the traditional concept of Christendom had barely distinguished.156 These tensions between the demands of the secular and the sacred are dramatized in the frontispieces, both as commemorative complexes of vignettes as well as constructive propaganda tableaux. Indeed, one almost detects a certain tension between the pages of the journal, always “black with news to stir the Jansenist mind,” and the annual frontispieces as they begin to minimize their sectarian content. The journal itself stayed Jansenist above all, but its frontispieces became ever more “bon François” as its images became increasingly neo-classical. These tensions culminated in 1763, the last year that would see a frontispiece for the Nouvelles ecclésiastiques.157 What had originated with the representation of a divine dove descending upon an oppressed bishop ended with a proto-nationalist eagle in a pose of vengeful violence. Perhaps most tellingly of all, the Jansenists associated with the Nouvelles had gone from representing themselves as the persecuted victims of authoritarian violence to an implicit, patriotic identification with the national state. These bookends define the evolution of Jansenism, not just as a religious minority, but as a polemical visual culture across a period of intense upheaval in church and state. 156. Van Kley, The Damiens Affair, 164. 157. Gouzi, “L’illustration,” 99. An Anti-Catholic Georgian Theological Treatise (Eighteenth Century) in the Context of Georgian-European Relations DAVID TINIKASHVILI* For centuries Orthodox Georgians had a cordial disposition towards Roman Catholics. This was evident in everyday secular life, as well as in the religious sphere, marked by prayerful union, joint missionary activities in other countries, and theological openness. This is corroborated by written sources, such as official epistles of Georgian monarchs and church leaders—in which a readiness to recognize the supremacy of the Pope was expressed—and theological texts. In the entire history of Georgian theological literature there is one exception: a theological treatise written in the eighteenth century by a Georgian author, Catholicos-Patriarch Bessarion Orbelishvili. The treatise is the only text written in the Georgian language criticizing the Roman Catholic Church and its doctrine. The content of the work is quite biased, crude, and full of mistakes and inaccuracies; despite the vitriol, however, its status as the sole extant written text in Georgian critical of the Latins, as well surrounding historical circumstances, confirm that it was not indicative of Georgian feelings about Catholics overall. Keywords: Georgian Anti-Catholic literature, History of Georgia, European-Georgian interrelations, and Catholic Missions in the East. Foreword The attitudes towards the Catholic West among the Orthodox Georgians and Orthodox Greeks almost always had significant differences. The anti-Latin stance of the Greeks was not normal for the Georgians. Original Georgian theological literature has no known work opposing Catholi* David Tinikashvili is a full professor at the Caucasus University in Tbilisi, Georgia; his email is dtinikashvili@cu.edu.ge. The author acknowledges his deep gratitiude to Professor Edmund Herzig of Oxford University for sharing his ideas on the draft. The research fellowship at the University of Oxford (2020–2021), which assisted in the creation of this paper, was funded by a generous grant from the Shota Rustaveli National Science Foundation of Georgia (SRNSFG). 561 562 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE cism until the eighteenth century. The Anvil (in Georgian: გრდემლი, Grdemli) is the only extant anti-Latin work (primary text) done in the Georgian language, the likes of which had never been written until then or afterwards in Georgia’s history. What developments in Georgia’s domestic affairs or foreign relationships can explain the composition of this unique anti-Latin tract? It must be said that there has never been any intentional anti-Western policy in Georgia. Throughout the country’s history, one can find only a few antiCatholic incidents, originating from the basis of a narrow, local misunderstandings and, as a rule, generally having no connection to any kind of an intrinsic or traditional anti-Western Georgian mindset. It is evident from the sources that the persecutors of the Catholic missionaries in Georgia were as a rule Greek monks sent from Constantinople to Eastern and Western Georgia1 and Armenian clergymen.2 In general Armenians existed in large numbers in Eastern and Southern Georgia. For instance, renowned traveller John Chardin writes that Armenians even outnumbered Georgians in the eighteenth century in Eastern Georgia.3 As will be seen below, Latin missionaries enjoyed tremendous respect among the ordinary Georgian populace, which led to a growing trend of 1. Document 15, in the Archivio della Sacra Congregazione per l’Evangelizzazione dei Popoli o “de Propaganda Fide” (hereafter referred to as APF), fondo “Georgia,” 1708-1760, II, fols. 487r-491r, as cited in: Murman Papashvili et al., European Sources about Georgia (18th c), Italian and Latin texts translated into Georgian by Murman Papashvili, Eldar Mamistvalishvili, and Zurab Gamezardashvili, (Tbilisi, 2020), 78. [დოკუმენტი 15, Archivio della Sacra Congregazione per l’Evangelizzazione dei Popoli o “de Propaganda Fide,” (აქ და ქვემოთ შემოკლებით APF) fondo “Georgia,” 1708–1760, II, fols. 487r-491r, ციტირ.: პაპაშვილი, მურმან და სხვები. ევროპული წყაროები საქართველოს შესახებ (მე-18 საუკუნე). იტალიური და ლათინური ტექსტები თარგმნეს, შესავალი და შენიშვნები დაურთეს მურმან პაპაშვილმა, ელდარ მამისთვალიშვილმა და ზურაბ გამეზარდაშვილმა. თბ., საჩინო 2020, გვ. 78]. 2. Ibid., 75. [Archivio della Sacra Congregazione per l’Evangelizzazione dei Popoli o “de Propaganda Fide,” fondo “Georgia,” 1708-1760, vol. II, fols. 487r-491r, დოკუმენტი 15, ციტირ.: პაპაშვილი, მურმან და სხვები. ევროპული წყაროები საქართველოს შესახებ (მე-18 საუკუნე). იტალიური და ლათინური ტექსტები თარგმნეს, შესავალი და შენიშვნები დაურთეს მურმან პაპაშვილმა, ელდარ მამისთვალიშვილმა და ზურაბ გამეზარდაშვილმა. თბ., საჩინო 2020, გვ. 75]. 3. John Chardin, The Travels into Persia and the East-Indies (Notes about Georgia), 2nd revised ed., trans., introduction and comments by George Sanikidze and Mzia Mgaloblishvili (Tbilisi, 2018), 295. [ჟან შარდენი. მოგზაურობა სპარსეთსა და აღმოსავლეთის სხვა ქვეყნებში (ცნობები საქართველოს შესახებ). მე-2 შევსებული და გადამუშავებული გამოცემა. ფრანგულიდან თარგმნა, შესავალი წერილი და კომენტარები დაურთეს მზია მგალობლიშვილმა და გიორგი სანიკიძემ. თბ., ილიას სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტი 2018, 295]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 563 cases of conversions to Catholicism, especially in the seventeenth century. It is also universally reognized4 that Georgian kings and rulers aspired for a close relationship with the Catholic West.5 The Political Situation of Eastern Georgia In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the Georgians’ trade relations with neighboring eastern countries—and sometimes, through them, with Western European cities—increased noticeably. Beginning in the eighteenth century, however, Georgia was also connected to Europe via Russia, as the Georgians managed to do so under the Russian Anti-Western religious policy. By virtue of Georgians’ efforts in Russia, it was possible to take Western cultural achievements and incorporate them into their homeland. For instance, the Catholic-influenced treatise of Peter Moghila was translated by Georgians in Moscow (see more below). The intensification of such contacts was brought about by a change in the global situation, starting from the beginning of the seventeenth century when economic relations and regular movement between Safavid Iran and France became active. In 1708, a trade agreement was even written up between these two 4. See for example the following articles on that matter by noted Georgian scholars, emeritus professor Zurab Kiknadze and professor Nugzar Papuashvili: Zurab Kiknadze, “Georgian Kings and Patriarchs in Relationship with Rome,” Journal of Eastern and Western Christianity, 1, (2005), 36–45. [კიკნაძე, ზურაბ. „ქართველი მეფეები და პატრიარქები რომთან ურთიერთობაში“, დიალოგი: აღმოსავლურ-დასავლური ქრისტიანული ჟურნალი 1, 2005, 36–45]; Nuzgar Papuashvili, “Religious Relationships between Rome and Georgia: Mythos and Reality,” in: Christianity of East and West: Collection of Critical Essays, ed. David Tinikashvili (Tbilisi, 2009), 198-248. [პაპუაშვილი, ნუგზარ. „საქართველოსა და რომის სარწმუნოებრივი ურთიერთობანი: მითოსი და რეალობა“, აღმოსავლურ-დასავლური ქრისტიანობა. მთავარი რედაქტორი: დავით თინიკაშვილი. თბ., სულხან-საბა ორბელიანის ჰუმანიტარულ მეცნიერებათა უნივერსიტეტი 2009, 198–248]. 5. Georgians aspired to connect not only with the Catholic West but also with the Western Protestant world. According to German as well as Georgian sources, two Georgian governors of Samtskhe Atabegate (a principality in southwestern Georgia) visited Constantinople in 1579. One of them, Qvarqvare IV Jaqeli, expressed great interest in the German Reformation there and established friendly contacts with Lutherans. As a result of these relationships, The Augsburg Confession was translated into Georgian by a member of his retinue and the document was sent to the mentioned principality to facilitate dissemination of Reformation ideas among Georgians. Sadly, Muslim officials in Constantinople began to persecute him, and he barely managed to return safely to Georgia. See in detail: Nugzar Papuashvili, From the History of Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Georgia (Tbilisi, 2018), 66– 78. [პაპუაშვილი, ნუგზარ. ევანგელურ-ლუთერანული ეკლესიის ისტორიიდან საქართველოში. თბ., უნივერსალი 2018, 66–78]. 564 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE countries.6 The first decades of the seventeenth century also marked a “turning point” in the way in which the Catholic missionary network “[had] already been considerably strengthened on the territory of the Ottoman Empire.”7 As a result of these relationships, some new directives were issued by Iran to the benefit of French missionaries. Latin missionaries present in eastern Georgia were subordinate to the Catholic mission in Isfahan, the capital of Iran at that time.8 The Catholic missions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in the eastern Muslim empires were primarily “tied up,” so to speak, with French commercial and diplomatic missions.9 It was through the help of the French consuls that Catholics were able to move freely and pilgrimage between Christian holy places.10 The consuls managed to obtain the right for Catholic friars to pursue missionary activities, provided they followed this main stipulation: the friars were able to preach to and convert Eastern Christians only “if the Eastern Christians voluntarily came to them.”11 6. Ilia Tabaghua, ed., Documents from the History of Interrelations Between Georgia and France (March of 1707–December of 1714), trans., introduction and notes by Ilia Tabaghua (Tbilisi, 1975), 59–75. [ტაბაღუა, ილია (რედ.). საბუთები საქართველოსაფრანგეთის ურთიერთობის ისტორიიდან (1707 წლის მარტი–1714 წლის დეკემბერი). ნაწილი 1. შესავალი, თარგმანი და განმარტებები დაურთო ილია ტაბაღუამ. თბ., მეცნიერება 1975, 59-75]. 7. Adina Ruiu, “Missionaries and French Subjects: The Jesuits in the Ottoman Empire,” in: A Companion to Early Modern Catholic Global Missions, ed. Ronnie Po-chia Hsia (Leiden, 2018), 181. 8. Valerian Gabashvili, “From the History of Georgian Diplomacy (Georgia and Anti-Ottoman Coalition in XVI–XVII centuries),” Materials for the History of Georgia and Caucasia, (Tbilisi, 1954), part XXXI, 126. [გაბაშვილი, ვალერიან. „ქართული დიპლომატიის ისტორიიდან (საქართველო და ანტიოსმალური კოალიციები XVI– XVII საუკუნეებში)“, მასალები საქართველოსა და კავკასიის ისტორიისათვის. ნაკვ. 31. თბ., მეცნიერება 1954, 126]. 9. Aurélien Girard, “Entre croisade et politique culturelle au Levant: Rome et l’union des chrétiens syriens (première moitié du XVIIe siècle),” in: Papato e politica internazionale nella prima età moderna, ed. Maria Antonietta Visceglia (Rome, 2013), 419–37; Bernard Heyberger, Les Chrétiens du Proche-Orient au temps de la Réforme catholique (Syrie, Liban, Palestine, CVIIe–XVIIIe siècles) (Rome, 1994), 267–71, as cited in: Cesare Santus, Trasgressioni necessarie: Communicatio in sacris, coesistenza e conflitti tra le comunità cristiane orientali (Levante e Impero ottomano, XVII-XVIII secolo) (Rome, 2019), 135. 10. Maurits H. van den Boogert, The Capitulations and the Ottoman Legal System: Consuls, Qadis, and Beratlis in the Eighteenth Century (Leiden, 2005), 102. 11. Cesare Santus, “Conflicting Views: Catholic missionaries in Ottoman cities between accommodation and Latinization,” in Catholic Missionaries in Early Modern Asia: Patterns of Localization, ed. Nadine Amsler et al. (Abingdon, 2020), 97. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 565 FIGURE 1. Prince Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani (1658–1725) presenting his book to King Vakhtang VI; “Kilila and Damana” (ქილილა და დამანა). 1724–1737. (first half of XVIII century). 333 ფ.; 40×26,5sm. Courtesy of the Department of Manuscripts and Documents, The Institute of Oriental Manuscripts, Russian Academy of Sciences. St. Petersburgh, Russia. Georgian kings also revealed a desire towards a strengthening of such a Western influence, especially Vakhtang VI12 and his brother, CatholicosPatriarch Domenti, who even expressed a readiness to recognize the supremacy of the Roman Pope.13 They were connecting the future of the country to Europe, because the Christian European countries were deemed 12. It is true that Vakhtang VI is known as a king of Kartli (which included Georgia’s capital city Tbilisi), but we should not underestimate the importance of this statesman. Putting aside the immense amount of work he had done in various domains of life in the Kingdom of Kartli (Eastern Georgia), he tried to strengthen his power in Western Georgia as well. King Vakhtang VI had taken control of Osetia in Northern Georgia, and also used the method of dynastic marriages to consolidate the various kingdoms of Georgia (in detail, see: Manana Kikodze, Vakhtang VI as a Statesman: His Political, Economical and Socio-Cultural Activities (Tbilisi, 1988), 18. [მანანა ქიქოძე. ვახტანგ VI-ის სახელმწიფოებრივი მოღვაწეობა (პოლიტიკურ-ეკონომიკური და სოციალურ-კულტურული საქმიანობა). თბ., მეცნიერება 1988, 18]. 13. Mikheil Tamarashvili, The History of Catholicism among Georgians, XIII–XX Centuries (Tbilisi, 2011), 306–07. [თამარაშვილი, ისტორია კათოლიკობისა ქართველთა შორის, მე-13-20 სს. თბ., სიესტა 2011, 306–07]. 566 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE the best allies in opposition to the surrounding Muslim superpowers—Iran and the Ottoman Empire. In 1713, a Georgian Catholic monk by the name of Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani—an outstanding writer, scholar, spiritual elder (having converted to Catholicism in 1701), public intellectual, and politician—was sent by King Vakhtang VI to Europe on a political mission. The Georgian king was sending him to procure political, military, and cultural support in Europe, where, as Vakhtang thought, “honorable people”14 lived. Unfortunately, Saba’s ambassadorial mission to France and Rome did not yield any corresponding results. Georgian king Vakhtang VI once again attempted to connect with Christian Europe. In particular, he sent letters to Pope Innocent XIII and the Emperor Charles VI of Austria on November 29, 1722, in which he asked for help against the Islamic invaders. Unfortunately, these letters turned out to be ineffective.15 Any secular and ecclesiastical authority having a pro-Western Catholic orientation in Georgia was neutralized by the Ottomans (who invaded Georgia in 1723). Having sought refuge in Russia, King Vakhtang’s throne was taken over by the convert to Islam, Iese, also known as Iese-Mustafa, a “nominal ruler”16 who was hostile towards his brother, King Vakhtang. Following the exile of Catholicos-Patriarch Domenti to Istanbul, the monk Bessarion Orbelishvili was appointed in his place through Iese’s help in 1724. The anti-Catholic tract The Anvil was already finished by Bessarion in this same year. He had been writing it for twelve years. The Selection of Bessarion Bessarion’s surname “Orbelishvili” was the name of one of the branches of the Baratashvili clan. Bessarion writes the following about himself: “I, Bessarion, a hieromonk related to Baratashvili from the clan of Orbelishvili at Gareja Monastery.”17 Catholicos Anton I wrote about Bessarion in his 14. Tabaghua, ed., Documents from the History of Interrelations, 163. [ტაბაღუა (რედ.). საბუთები საქართველო-საფრანგეთის, 163]. 15. Ilia Tabaghua, Interrelations Between Georgia and France (First Quarter of XVIII Century), 315. [ტაბაღუა, ილია. საქართველო-საფრანგეთის ურთიერთობა (XVIII საუკუნის პირველი მეოთხედი). თბ., მეცნიერება 1972, 315]. 16. Niko Berdzenishvili, Issues in the History of Georgia, 9 vols. (Tbilisi, 1964–90), II, 156. [ბერძენიშვილი, საქართველოს ისტორიის საკითხები, II, 156]. 17. Zhordania, Chronicles, II, 516. [ჟორდანია, ქრონიკები. II, 516]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 567 “Elegantly Composed Verses” (in Georgian: წყობილსიტყვაობა, Tsqobilsitqvaoba), saying that he was “a man with a lofty mind,” that “he properly shepherded the Church,” and that “he thundered upon the Latins.”18 Bessarion was quite an influential spiritual leader. He had an entire group of disciples and scribes at the monastery working primarily on hagiographic collections and other liturgical texts under his direction. Bessarion Orbelishvili was appointed by the Ottomans as Patriarch in 1724. As Tedo Zhordania wrote, “The Tatars [i.e. Ottomans] gave the title of Patriarch to Bessarion Orbeliani (1724).”19 It cannot be said that Bessarion did not desire to be Patriarch, because we have some information from Polievktos Karbelashvili, a public figure in the nineteenth century, according to whom Bessarion took action to possess the patriarchal throne and not perhaps through the holiest of means. Through the help of his friend the Muslim King Iese, “he gradually won the support of Isak-Pasha, slipped him a bribe, and thus got to be Patriarch.”20 No doubt, it was favorable for the Ottomans to have an anti-Western and anti-Catholic candidate on the patriarchal throne, who simultaneously was a friend of the Muslim King Iese, who himself was faithful to the Ottomans, and through this even Bessarion’s loyalty towards the Ottomans would be secured. Upon ascending the patriarchal throne, Bessarion had already finished The Anvil, an extensive, systematic, antiCatholic treatise, which he had written in the years 1712–24.21 The Davit Gareja Monastery complex (namely, in St. John the Baptist Monastery), the place where Bessarion worked on this document, was an important center for the country’s intellectual life during that period. Naturally, as he was working on such an extensive treatise which took a great number of years to complete, he would not have been able to escape the scrutiny of 18. Mikheil Kavtaria, “Life and Works of Bessarion Orbelishvili,” Bulletin of Institute Manuscript, 1 (1959), 75. [ქავთარია, მიხეილ. “ბესარიონ ორბელიშვილის ცხოვრება და მოღვაწეობა”, ხელნაწერთა ინსტიტუტის მოამბე, 1, 1959, 75]. 19. Tedo Zhordania, Archbishop Ioseb Samebeli, 87n6. [ჟორდანია, მთავარეპისკოპოსი იოსებ სამებელი, 87, სქოლიო 6]. 20. Polievktos Karbelashvili, “Bessarion, 1728-1735,” Polievktos Karbelashvili. Hierarchy of the Church of Georgia: Catholicoses and Archbishops, 2nd ed., edition, introduction, comments and notes by Bondo Arveladze (Tbilisi, 2011), 112. [კარბელაშვილი, პოლიევქტოს. „ბესარიონი, 1728–1735,“ პოლიევქტოს კარბელაშვილი. იერარქია საქართველოს ეკკლესიისა: კათალიკოსნი და მღვდელმთავარნი. მეორე გამოცემა. გამოსაცემად მოამზადა, შესავალი, კომენტარები და შენიშვნები დაურთო ბონდო არველაძემ. თბ., კაბადონი+ 2011, 112]. 21. Mikheil Kavtaria, Davit Gareja School of Literature (Tbilisi, 1965), 111. [ქავთარია, მიხეილ. დავით გარეჯის ლიტერატურული სკოლა. თბ., მეცნიერება 1965, 111]. 568 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE those around him. Thus, information regarding Bessarion’s extremely negative attitude towards the Roman Catholic Church must have been widespread. It seems such a person as this was desirable for the Ottomans, because it was in their interests not only to discourage the favorable relationship between Georgian and European Christians, but also to stoke animosity between them. The conduct of such religious politics as this was indeed the Ottomans’ signature. There are many examples in the history of Ottoman dominion over the Christian communities in the East confirming their anti-Western agenda. One of the most well-known facts in this regard is the case of George Scholarius, a Greek Orthodox theologian, who was a great supporter of union with the Church of Rome at the Council of Ferrara-Florence. But after returning to Constantinople when Sultan Mahmed II had appointed him as Patriarch, Gennadius (formerly Georgios) Scholarius turned into an energetic anti-Catholic figure. Scholars of George Scholarius’ life conclude that such a radical change of his position was determined by “a political factor”22 and not by any of the religious issues examined at the Council of Florence. Obviously, sultans were in opposition to a close, benevolent relationship between Eastern Orthodoxy and the Catholic West. The School of Davit Gareja Previously mentioned was the great thinker and state figure Sulkhan Orbeliani, a Catholic by faith who was tonsured with the name of Saba in the same monastery where monk Bessarion Orbelishvili worked. This was the Monastery of St. John the Baptist at the Davit Gareja Monastery Complex, located in a desert area in Eastern Georgia. A vigorous process of creating religious literature was ongoing in this particular monastery. For a certain length of time Sulkhan-Saba and Bessarion lived together at the monastery. Thus, it is natural to surmise that they at least knew each other, although there is no information to be found regarding any interaction and collaboration between them. Nor can any kindred connection between Bessarion and Sulkhan-Saba be confirmed.23 Bessarion had labored at this monastery from the 1680s onwards. Approximately two 22. This is the thesis of the following dissertation: Victor Henri Antoine Penel, An Investigation of the Change in Position of George Scholarios from Pro-Union of the Western and Eastern Churches to Anti-Union (master’s thesis, Anglia Ruskin University in Candidacy, 2014). Accessed September 21, 2018, at https://arro.anglia.ac.uk/581964/1/Penel%20thesis.pdf. 23. Kavtaria, Life and Works of Bessarion Orbelishvili, 77 n. 9. [ქავთარია, ბესარიონ ორბელიშვილის ცხოვრება, 77, სქოლიო 9]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 569 FIGURE 2. Davit Gareja lavra: the main monastery of the desert, ourtesy of The National Parliamentary Library of Georgia. decades later, Saba was tonsured a monk there in 1698, living there until 1710.24 Nowhere is Bessarion mentioned by Saba either. There is some information making one think that interconfessional openness, or an ecumenical spirit as it is called today, was not foreign to Gareja Monastery Complex. The prayer of Hovhannes, a priest of the Armenian Apostolic Church (i.e. a “miaphysite” church as it was referred at the time), well-known scribe and calligrapher, was confirmed by scholars to have been written in the fifteenth century at the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in the Davit Gareja desert, a fact which is corroborated by some wall inscriptions.25 Hovhannes labored tirelessly to get closer to the Roman 24. Kavtaria, Davit Gareja School, 122. [ქავთარია, დავით გარეჯის, 122]. 25. Temo Jojua, “Identifying the Author of the 1467 Georgian and Armenian Inscriptions at Gareja Monastery,” Analecta Iberica: Studies in History, Religion and Culture, 1 (2001), 154-55. [ჯოჯუა, თემო. „გარეჯის უდაბნოს მონასტრის 1467 წლის ქართული და სომხური წარწერების ავტორის იდენტიფიკაციისათვის,“ Analecta Iberica, ისტორიის, რელიგიისა და კულტურის საკითხები 1, 2001, 154–55]. The same thought was expressed by Leon Melikset-Begi as well regarding Hovhannes’ affiliation with the miaphysite confession: Leon Melikset-Begi, “Armenian Epigraphy and a Polyglot Inscription of Mravalmta at Gareja—Georgian-Armenian-Persian-Uighur,” Niko Marr Insti- 570 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE Catholic Church.26 Apparently, such facts do not seem to be incongruous to being a Georgian Orthodox monk at Gareja. In an opposing case, probably no one would have given the non-Orthodox Hovhannes the right to pray at an Orthodox monastery. If such a thing had happened due to some unconsidered reason, later all traces of the heretic’s prayer would certainly have been erased. The fact of such an intimate and daring interdenominational relationship among monks of the Armenian Apostolic Church and the Orthodox Church of Georgia evokes amazement. For one thing, the old church canons categorically forbade common prayer with heretics, and for another, there had been an especially strained relationship between the Georgian and Armenian churches since the beginning of seventh century, when a sharp schism had occurred.27 In 1105 the Ruis-Urbnisi Council declared the Armenian Church as anathema. It is stated in the council’s fifteenth canon, “Thus we have established for them, so that they may be completely baptized as pagans.”28 The ecumenical openness of the Monastery of John the Baptist is also attested to by the tonsure of Sulkhan in 1698. As indicated by his biographers, Sulkhan revealed his sympathies towards Catholicism before then, starting in 1687, which were also manifested in his works.29 Starting in tute of Language, History, and Material Culture Bulletin, 5–6 (1940), 168 and 172–74. [ლეონ მელიქსეთ-ბეგი. “გარესჯის ‘მრავალმთის’ სომხური ეპიგრაფიკა და პოლიგლოტური წარწერა — ქართულ-სომხურ-სპარსულ-უიღურული”, აკად. ნ. მარის სახელობის ენის, ისტორიისა და მატერიალური კულტურის ინსტიტუტის მოამბე, ტ. V–VI, თბ., 1940, 168 და 172–74]. 26. Nuzgar Papuashvili, “Religious Relations between Armenians and Georgians,” Solidarity, 1 (2009), 14. [პაპუაშვილი, ნუგზარ. „სომეხთა და ქართველთა სარწმუნოებრივი ურთიერთობანი“, სოლიდარობა 1, 2009, გვ. 14]. 27. On the Georgian-Armenian schism, see the following publications (Georgian materials are not cited here): Nikoloz Aleksidze, “Caucasia: Albania, Armenia and Georgia,” in: A Companion to Religion in Late Antiquity, eds. Josef Lössl and Nicholas Baker-Brian (Hoboken, 2018), 135–57; Zaza Aleksidze and Pierre Mahe, “Arsen Sapareli: Sur la séparation des Georgiens et des Armeniens,” Revue des Études Arméniennes, 32 (2010), 59–132; Stephen H. Rapp Jr., “Christian Caucasian Dialogues: Glimpses of Armeno-K‛art‛velian Relations in Medieval Georgian Historiography,” in: Peace and Negotiation: Strategies for Coexistence in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, ed. Diane Wolfthal (Turnhout, 2000) 16378; etc. 28. Enriko Gabidzashvili, Code of Ruis-Urbnisi: Philological-Textological Study (Tbilisi, 1978), 189. [გაბიძაშვილი, ენრიკო. რუის-ურბნისის კრების ძეგლისწერა: ფილოლოგიურ-ტექსტოლოგიური გამოკვლევა. თბ., მეცნიერება 1978, 189]. 29. Regarding the Catholic views in Sulkhan-Saba’s works, see the following publications for an in-depth analysis: Merab Ghaghanidze, “Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani and the Teach- DAVID TINIKASHVILI 571 FIGURE 3. Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani, courtesy of The National Parliamentary Library of Georgia. 1701 Sulkhan-Saba became a member of the Catholic Church, formerly having been tonsured as an Orthodox monk.30 This was the public act of a public figure, because Sulkhan was an influential intellectual and a wellknown writer in Georgia. Thus, it is impossible for Sulkhan’s conversion to have remained unnoticed by a large segment of society. At a minimum, the brotherhood at the monastery would have known about the Catholic leanings of the Catholic Church,” Kadmos 5 (2013), 226–47; [მერაბ ღაღანიძე. „სულხან-საბა ორბელიანი და კათოლიკე ეკლესიის მოძღვრება“, კადმოსი 5, 2013, 226–47]; Merab Ghaghanidze, “Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani on the Supremacy of St. Peter,” Catholic Heritage in Georgia—1. The First International Symposium: Proceedings, 6–8 June, 2017 (Tbilisi, 2018), 107-13; [მერაბ ღაღანიძე. „სულხან-საბა ორბელიანი წმინდა პეტრეს უპირატესობის შესახებ“, კათოლიკური მემკვიდრეობა საქართველოში—1. პირველი საერთაშორისო სიმპოზიუმი, 6-8 ივნისი 2017. რედაქტორი მერაბ ღაღანიძე. თბ., ს.-საბა ორბელიანის უნივერსიტეტის გამომცემლობა 2018, 107–13]; Lili Kutateladze, “Sulkhan-Saba Orberliani’s Confessional Views According to his Lexicon,” Mravaltavi: Philological-Historical Researches, 3 (1973), 104–18. [ლილი ქუთათელაძე. „ს.-ს. ორბელიანის კონფესიური შეხედულებანი მისი ლექსიკონის მიხედვით“, მრავალთავი: ფილოლოგიურ-ისტორიული ძიებანი 3, 1973, 104–18]. 30. Murman Papashvili, “Once Again: Why Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani has Embraced Catholicism?” Historical Verticals, 18 (2009), 31. [პაპაშვილი, კიდევ ერთხელ, თუ რატომ, 31]. 572 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE ings of Sulkhan-Saba’s theological thought. Nevertheless, this apparently posed no hindrance for Sulkhan-Saba not only to being accepted as an ordinary monk, but even to being established as a preacher at this monastery! What is even more intriguing is that Sulkhan-Saba did not hide his sympathies for Catholicism during his active years at the John the Baptist monastery in the Davit Gareja desert (1698–1710): On August 15, 1709, he sent a letter to Pope Clement XI in which he glorified the pope, as was appropriate for a confessing Catholic.31 The Situation Beyond the School of Davit Gareja This section will attempt to examine the situation created in Eastern Georgia in general terms, in order to bring to light what might have been the reasons determining the writing of such an intensely polemical, extensive and anti-Catholic tract by Bessarion. Apart from the, so to say, pro-Catholic (the monk Sulkhan-Saba and the attitude towards him in the monastery) and pro-Armenian (Hovhannes’ prayer) trends which had directly developed at Davit Gareja, the growing sympathy for Latin monks extant among the Georgians must have been no less important of a factor. The popularity of Catholic missionaries in Georgia would be decided by their beneficial work in various spheres. The Georgians well remembered past Muslim invasions and persecutions in Georgia and cases of capital punishment for changing one’s faith in connection to the Islamic domination. Similar violence was not to be found throughout the centuries-long history of the Latin missionaries’ work in Georgia. Furthermore, not only was such aggression foreign to the Latins, they also labored for the needs of the Georgians. There were some doctors among the missionaries who were high in demand, engineers constructed various types of structures and bridges, painters and writers showed and described the Georgian way of life, which is invaluable material nowadays for the reconstruction of the Georgian past, and philologists and lexicographers published a Georgian dictionary and a grammar textbook for the first time. The Catholic monks were also acclaimed tutors in Georgian families. Apart from the use of their own knowledge and qualifications in the ordinary people’s everyday life, the Catholic missionaries tried to make their contributions in the country’s foreign affairs arena. They served as advisers to Georgian kings and rulers. In contrast to the Muslim invaders, 31. Tamarashvili, The History of Catholicism, 311–12. [თამარაშვილი, ისტორია კათოლიკობისა, 311–12]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 573 the missionaries not only supported the European orientation of the country, but also the mutual accord of authorities within Georgia and further consolidation of its various regions.32 A noticeable growth in the numbers of those interested in Catholicism in seventeenth-century Georgia as well as those converted to this faith is corroborated by the statistics regarding the Catholic schools in Georgia. For instance, although only twenty-five students were enrolled in Tbilisi’s Catholic school in 1668, approximately seven to eight years later, the number of students there had doubled.33 Thus, it is not at all surprising that Mikheil Tamarashvili (aka “Michel Tamarati”), a well-known historian of Catholic history in Georgia, considered the seventeenth century to the best era of Latin missionary activity because it was during this period that missionary activity turned out to be remarkably successful. The fact that Latin monks deemed the study of the Georgian language as necessary is no less significant, as it would have been a cause of respect among the Georgians as well. Moreover, Latin missionaries not only studied Georgian but also Mingrelian (one of the Georgian languages spoken in one part of Western Georgia). Thus, during a time of peace in Georgia, the openness of the local Georgians towards Roman Catholics in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was growing.34 The receptiveness to Latin missionaries during this period turned out to be so great that instances of conversions not only among the Georgian laity but also among the clergy became more frequent, which, as prominent Georgian scholar Korneli Kekelidze noted, “really made supporters of ancestral Orthodoxy think.”35 It is also notable that collections of aphorisms and sayings by representatives of classical philosophy—by Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Aristophanes, Epicurus, and others—were being translated at the start of the 32. Berdzenishvili, Issues in the History of Georgia, IX: Materials for the History, 176. [ბერძენიშვილი, მასალები საქართველოს, 176]; Berdzenishvili, Issues in the History of Georgia, II, 152. [ბერძენიშვილი, საქარ. ისტ. საკითხები, 152]. 33. Mamia Dumbadze, ed. Essays in the History of Georgia, 8 vols. (Tbilisi, 1970-80), IV (1973), 359. [დუმბაძე, მამია. (რედ.). საქართველოს ისტორიის ნარკვევები რვა ტომად. ტომი IV. თბ., საბჭოთა საქართველო 1973, 359]. 34. Kavtaria, Davit Gareja School, 110. [ქავთარია, დავით გარეჯის, 110]. 35. Korneli Kekelidze, “Catholicism,” in: The History of Old Georgian Literature, 2 vols. (Tbilisi, 1980–81), I (1980), 487. [კეკელიძე, კორნელი. „კათოლიციზმი“, კორნელი კეკელიძე. ძველი ქართული ლიტერატურის ისტორია. ტომი პირველი. თბ., მეცნიერება 1980, 487]. 574 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE eighteenth century.36 The monk Bessarion did not belong to the mainstream extant in the Church from the very first centuries, for whom the great thinkers of the classical world were “Christians before Christianity.” In The Anvil, Bessarion mentions Plato as an “idolater,”37 which clearly demonstrates his well-defined hatred for “pagan” philosophers in general. The Process and Purpose for Creating The Anvil In the introduction of his book, Bessarion notes that he benefited38 from the assistance of Francesco of Bologna, a Capuchin friar, when writing this extensive Anti-Catholic tract. Neither from The Anvil nor from any other source is it apparent that Bessarion had made use of SulkhanSaba for consultation, who, among the Georgians of that era, would have best known the doctrines and church customs of Roman Catholicism. It is not hard to understand why Besarion did not consider the benefit of Sulkhan-Saba’s assistance as expedient. Aside from anything purely theological, this decision of his had to have had a political component as well: first, Sulkhan-Saba, an outstanding intellectual and Catholic thinker, would have not supported the creation of such a crude and intensely polemical treatise like The Anvil; second, Sulkhan-Saba belonged to King Vakhtang’s pro-Western camp. It is no coincidence that it was he who was sent on a diplomatic mission to Europe by this king in 1713.39 Saba would certainly have been interested in what kind of treatise Bessarion was writing, and it is logical to suppose that, after finding out 36. Dumbadze, Essays in the History of Georgia, IV, 507. [დუმბაძე, საქ. ისტ. ნარკვევები, IV, 507]. 37. Bessarion Baratashvil-Orbelishvili (Catholicos-Patriarch, 1724–1737), The Anvil: Polemics against the Latins by us, the Orthodox about why we are separated. The text according to manuscript S-3269 is published with an introduction by Zaza Mamulashvili (Tbilisi, 2013), 145. [ბესარიონ კათალიკოსი (ბარათაშვილ-ორბელიშვილი, 1724–1737). გრდემლი: სიტყვისგებაი ლათინთა მიმართ ჩვენ მართლმადიდებელთა მიერ თუ რაი არს ჩუენგან მათი განყოფილება. ტექსტი ხელნაწერ S-3269-ის მიხედვით გამოსაცემად მოამზადა და შესავალი დაურთო ზაზა მამულაშვილმა. თბ., 2013, 145]. 38. Kekelidze, “Bessarion Baratashvil-Orbelishvili,” in The History of Old Georgian Literature, I, 350. [კეკელიძე, კორნელი. „ბესარიონ ბარათაშვილი-ორბელიშვილი“, კორნელი კეკელიძე. ძველი ქართული ლიტერატურის ისტორია. ტომი I. თბ., მეცნიერება 1980, 350]. 39. Valerian Gabashvili, “Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani as a Diplomat,” in: Sulkhan-Saba Orbeliani, 1658–1958: Anniversary Collection, ed. Ilia Abuladze et al. (Tbilisi, 1959), 61–76. [ვალერიან გაბაშვილი. „სულხან-საბა ორბელიანი როგორც დიპლომატი“, აბულაძე, ილ. და სხვები (რედ.). სულხან-საბა ორბელიანი, 1658–1958: საიუბილეო კრებული. თბ., მეცნიერებათა აკადემიის გამომცემლობა 1959, 61–76]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 575 FIGURE 4. Bessarion Orbelishvili, The Anvil, Georgian National Center of Manuscripts, S 3269, fol. 124v. With permission of The Georgian National Center of Manuscripts. what was going on, he would not have supported the implementation of such an anti-Catholic objective. As Sulkhan-Saba had probably experienced some oppression merely being around Bessarion, Bessarion would likely have assumed that going to another source for Roman Catholic doctrine, such as the Latin friar Francesco, would be easier. Additionally it would have been preferable to use a guest from a foreign country as his source, who would have been less able to reproach Bessarion or hinder his work. Sulkhan-Saba, on the other hand, would clearly have been an awkward assistant to him to say the least. Thus, this may be why Bessarion had not appealed to Sulkhan-Saba, or it is possible he might have done so, but for the aforestated reasons was rebuffed. The Anvil is written without any reference to sources. The author sometimes notes that he has “heard of” the existence of a given custom or idea in the Roman Church. For instance, Bessarion based his criticism of the “custom” of taking animals into Catholic church buildings on just such rumors. 576 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE Writing in such an intellectually irresponsible way causes astonishment, although the surprise may be more moderate in an attentive reader, because it is not at all difficult to understand that the author had a specific objective when composing this text. In general, Bessarion was not some uneducated, eccentric, fanatic monk who delightedly juggled with completely baseless and made-up accusations. He was known by his contemporaries as well as his heirs as an industrious, conscientious monk who created hymnographic and liturgical collections. An inexperienced and uneducated individual would have had a challenge doing such tasks. Thus, it is probably logical for him to have had the skill to write this tract with more persuasiveness, sobriety, and objectiveness, citing the appropriate sources. Yet it is clearly sensed that his aim is more propagandistic than in doing an honest and balanced academic study of this theme. As it seems, he deemed it necessary to write an appropriate work for the general and naïve public, because the objective was to slow down the growing popularity of the Latin missionaries’ work in the country. Supposedly, the book’s audience was to have been simple people and not, for example, erudite Georgian clergy or the kings and rulers who almost always patronized Catholic missionaries. In addition to not knowing what sources were used by the author, one also does not know if Bessarion knew the Latin language or not, which was necessary for an adequate understanding of Catholic church doctrine. It is possible to assume that he would borrow his arguments (at least partially) from Greek sources or Georgian translations of these Greek theological treatises. Bessarion was able to obtain the appropriate Latin texts from missionaries, but one does not know how much information he would have been able to get out of the documents, as there is no source that indicates if Bessarion knew Latin. Unfortunately, no Latin language documents of this era have survived which Bessarion might have used. Bessarion supposedly might have had a verbal relationship with Francesco through an interpreter, or the Latin monk might have known the Georgian language, which was not rare among the Latin missionaries in Georgia. Nevertheless, whatever sort of information Bessarion might have gotten about the doctrines and ecclesiastical practices of the Church of Rome, nothing would have been able to impede the Georgian author in using this information as he himself saw fit. Bessarion selected a series of so-called Roman Catholic teachings and practices to criticize. He attacked the teaching on purgatory as lacking DAVID TINIKASHVILI 577 scriptural support but based on Origenist and pagan ideas. He also attacked the Latin practice of administering Baptism by aspersion or single immersion in water as it was considered contrary to canons specifying triple immersion. That the Latins allowed women to administer the sacrament in emergency situations and denied infants the Eucharist at the time of Baptism were both practices that he condemned. He faulted Latins for allowing Mass to be celebrated in private homes and more than once a day, for giving laity unconsecrated bread and wine at the liturgy, and for allowing women experiencing menstruation to enter a church. He claimed Latins denied that Christ descended into Hell after his death. Each of these criticisms were based on inaccurate, fragmentary, or distorted information.40 The Issue of the Influence of The Anvil The treatise enjoyed a wide circulation, but only for a short period of time. Today we have twelve surviving manuscripts, with ten of them dating to the eighteenth century, all twelve of which are conserved in The Georgian National Centre of Manuscripts. They were copied by scribes in the following decades from the time of the writing of the treatise. There are no semantic discrepancies among the manuscripts. Some slight orthographic differences are present. As Mikheil Kavtaria points out, “Only the extended version of The Anvil had been distributed, attested even by the fact that several copies of the extensive version had survived, whereas the short version is only known through a single manuscript.”41 A text published in 2013 on the basis of this extensive or primary manuscript is used in this article. It seems that this tract was met with ardor by like-minded individuals in Bessarion’s circle. But from a prolonged perspective, The Anvil was unable to have any firm impact on the masses, nor on the Church and state representatives creating the country’s domestic and foreign politics, nor in increasing resistance against Catholicism. There is also no sort of response, answer, or counter critique. There does not exist any information in which some sort of assessment of this 40. A close analysis of the contents of The Anvil will be published in another journal as a separate article titled “An Anti-Catholic Georgian Treatise by Patriarch Bessarion: Polemical Pathos and Theological Arguments.” The examination of the theological issues of The Anvil initially was part of this research article, but, because of the word-count limitations of the Catholic Historical Review, the decision was made to publish it separately. 41. Kavtaria, Life and Works of Bessarion Orbelishvili, 109. [ქავთარია, ბესარიონ ორბელიშვილის ცხოვრება, 109]. 578 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE treatise is reflected from Latin missionaries as well as Georgian Catholics. For this reason, it is difficult to concur with Kavtaria’s generalized opinion, according to which “The Anvil enjoyed great popularity in Old Georgia.”42 Unfortunately, this scholar, who most extensively investigated the life and work of Bessarion, is unable to offer any convincing and trustworthy evidence corroborating these ideas. Neither is any interval of time marked out in which period specifically The Anvil was supposedly popular. The publication of the treatise was indeed followed by immediate enthusiasm and clearly, Bessarion would have had followers and like-minded thinkers, but regarding that which is actually seen in his epoch and the following period, this tract did not enjoy any significant and prolonged recognition or impact. Half a century after the publication of The Anvil, King Erekle II of Eastern Georgia still turned to European leaders for help and not Orthodox Russia. Until the treaty of Georgievsk (1783) signed with Russia, he had an active correspondence with Emperor Joseph II of Austria43 from 1779 to 1782 and with the sovereigns of Venice, Sardinia, and Corsica.44 Unfortunately, Erekle II’s letters only made it to the European leaders after 1783, when Georgia’s fate had already been decided by the Russian project—the mentioned provisional agreement. It must be mentioned here that “the two ambassadors sent one after the other by King Erekle in 1781 and 1782, died in suspicious circumstances, first in Constantinople, then in Berditskovo.”45 It is also notable that after Erekle, King Giorgi XII (1746–1800) tasked his own son Davit Batonishvili, having gained erudition with 42. Kavtaria, Davit Gareja School, 113. [ქავთარია, დავით გარეჯის, 113]. 43. Nino Doborjginidze, “On the Reconstruction of the Historic Memory (Unknown plans and allies of 18th century Georgia,” in Zurab Kiknadze—80: Anniversary Collection, ed. Shukia Apridonidze and Nino Doborjginidze (Tbilisi, 2013), 246. [დობორჯგინიძე, ნინო. „საისტორიო მეხსიერების რეკონსტრუქციისათვის (XVIII საუკუნის საქართველოს უცნობი გეგმები და მოკავშირეები)“, ზურაბ კიკნაძე - 80: საიუბილეო კრებული. თბ., ილიას სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტი 2013, 246]. 44. Nino Doborjginidze, “European Projection of Georgian King Erekle the II (Prince Heraclius) and his Reign,” in: Georgian Cultural Traces in Germany, ed. Nino Doborjginidze et al. (Tbilisi, 2019), 182, 187. [დობორჯგინიძე, ნინო. “ერეკლე მეორისა და მისი სამეფოს ევროპული პროექცია”, ნინო დობორჯგინიძე, ლევან ცაგარელი, ოლივერ რაისნერი, გიორგი ქავთარაძე. ქართველთა კულტურული კვალი გერმანიაში. თბ., ილიას სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტი 2019, 182, 187]. 45. Doborjginidze, European Projection, 196. [დობორჯგინიძე, ერეკლე მეორის, 196]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 579 German and Austrian teachers,46 to create a judicial plan resembling a European one for the modernization of Georgia, which was to have been implemented by the subsequent royal government. But in 1801, Russia violated one of the articles of the treaty of Georgievsk and annulled the Georgian monarchy, thereby putting a final stop to the realization of any modernization plan in Georgia. Bessarion’s camp (if one can call it so) especially weakened after the reign of Anton I Bagrationi (1720–88), a Georgian Catholicos-Patriarch who himself converted to Catholicism. Anton was attacked by a wing of Georgian Orthodox fundamentalists led by Priest Zakaria Gabashvili, who brought about certain problems for this church leader. Because of this, Anton had to abdicate the patriarchal throne in 1755. So, an anti-Catholic reaction among Georgians in the second half of the eighteenth century is indeed seen, but in the nineteenth century, figures like Zakaria Gabashvili no longer appear. Tedo Zhordania suggests that those clergymen who opposed Anton I were trained by Bessarion.47 The king Teimuraz II’s spiritual father, the priest Zakaria Gabashvili, was among them. The interesting thing in this clash is that, as Tedo Zhordania himself points out, in Zakaria’s satirical work “The War of the Cat” (კატის ომი), written to poke fun at Anton, Zakaria Gabashvili “expresses the opinion that the clergy resented Anton I because he restricted the entitlement of eparchial leaders and abbots to church property. Archbishop Timote [Gabashvili, D.T.] too testifies that, on the pretext of his faith, Anton intervened in kings’ religious affairs and reproved these.”48 46. Tengiz Iremadze and Udo Reinhold Jeck, “David Bagrationi (1767–1819). Natural Philosophy, Logic and Metaphysics,” in: Early Modern Georgian Philosophy and Its Major Representatives, ed. Tengiz Iremadze (Tbilisi, 2014), 74. [ირემაძე, თენგიზ, უდო რაინჰოლდ იეკი. “დავით ბაგრატიონი (1767–1819), ბუნების ფილოსოფია, ლოგიკა და მეტაფიზიკა”, ახალი დროის ქართული ფილოსოფია და მისი მთავარი წარმომადგენლები. რედ.: თენგიზ ირემაძე. თბ., კავკასიური ფილოსოფიისა და ღვთისმეტყველების სამეცნიერო-კვლევითი არქივი, 2014, 74]. 47. Tedo Zhordania, “Anton I, Catholicos of Georgia and Archbishop of Vladimir and Yeropol,” in Theological Anthology, vol. 1, ed. Nugzar Papuashvili (Tbilisi, 1991), 83. [ჟორდანია, თედო. “ანტონ I, საქართველოს კათოლიკოსი და ვლადიმირისა და იეროპოლის არქიეპისკოპოსი”, საღვთისმეტყველო კრებული. რედ.: ნუგზარ პაპუაშვილი. თბ., საქართველოს საპატრიარქო 1, 1991, 83]. 48. Zhordania, “Anton I,” 91. [ჟორდანია, ანტონ I, 91]. Although Zhordania takes the view that Timote’s account of a conflict of this kind between Anton I and King Teimuraz II is unreliable, he writes elsewhere in the same publication that Archbishop of Kartli, Timote Gabashvili (†1764), was a close friend of Anton I’s, and that it was for this reason that King Teimuraz began to persecute him, as a result of which Timote was obliged to leave his see (49). 580 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE It is impossible to state with certainty whether the true, decisive, or even principal reason for the struggle excited against Anton I concerned property, power, or simply faith. It should also be pointed out that, even if the categorical unacceptability of the Catholic faith alone was the sole and decisive factor, the followers of Father Zakaria Gabashvili, close as he was to King Teimuraz, represented a minority in the church, who had retained a reputation as “fanatically inclined Georgian clergy.”49 When Anton returned to his homeland from Russia and was reinstated to the patriarchal throne once again, “a council of the Church of Kartli-Kakheti was convened in Tbilisi, which denounced Zakaria Gabashvili and his adherents ‘as instruments of the devil’ and excommunicated them.”50 Due to this, the same above-mentioned Georgian King Teimuraz II (1744–62), infuriated by Anton’s conversion to Catholicism, seized churches from Roman Catholics in his kingdom. Here a couple of things must certainly be added concerning Teimuraz II, king of Eastern Georgia: at the end of the 1720s, a persecution of Catholics was associated with King Teimuraz II, who was attempting to find favor with the Russian Emperor. This persecution continued for a few decades, with some Armenians making a significant contribution to the start of it (confirmed by the Latins themselves). It was really the Armenians who, beginning in 1718, terribly ravaged the Catholic missionaries in Eastern Georgia. Unfortunately, “at that time [the] Georgian king was unable to protect the Catholics, and to stop Minas Vardapiet, the initiator of the pogrom having specially come from Etchmiadzin.”51 The anti-Catholic activities of Armenians in Georgia are also seen at the end of the same century, this time directly at the level of the Armenian Patriarch and the Georgian king. It is apparent from Latin sources that on January 10, 1782, Etchmiadzin’s “heretic Patriarch promised King Erekle that he will supply the king with 49. Geronti Kikodze, Erekle II (Tbilisi, 2020), 82. [ქიქოძე, გერონტი. ერეკლე II. თბ., ალონი 2020, 82]. 50. Ibid., 83. [იქვე, 83]; See also: Polievktos Karbelashvili, “Anton I,” in the collection: Polievktos Karbelashvili, Hierarchy of the Church of Georgia: Catholicoses and Archbishops, 2nd ed., edition, introduction, comments and notes by Bondo Arveladze (Tbilisi, 2011), 139. [პოლიევქტოს კარბელაშვილი. „ანტონ I“, კრებულში: პოლიევქტოს კარბელაშვილი. იერარქია საქართველოს ეკკლესიისა: კათალიკოსნი და მღვდელმთავარნი. მეორე გამოცემა. გამოსაცემად მოამზადა, შესავალი, კომენტარები და შენიშვნები დაურთო ბონდო არველაძემ. თბ., კაბადონი+ 2011, 139]. 51. “Don Minas Vardapiet Dottor di theologia Misso Applico” is how the missionaries mention him. See Georgian Material of the APF, II, 288, as cited in: Doborjginidze, On the Reconstruction, 242. [დობორჯგინიძე, საისტორიო მეხსიერების, 242]. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 581 medicine and good doctors, if he [Erekle] dismisses the Capuchin friars from his country.”52 Unfortunately, there was a period when Erekle II “followed the Armenians’ malicious advice”53 and oppressed the Catholics (the Armenians offered him a large sum of money as a bribe). But it is well known that king Erekle II mostly strongly protected Catholic missionaries from Armenian ill-treatments.54 It is not surprising that King Teimuraz II’s mission to obtain help in Russia ended without any result. “Having traveled to Russia in 1760, Teimuraz’s hopes were dashed. He was first stopped in Kizlar for eight months with a quarantine being the excuse. Then he was taken to Astrakhan, Petersburg, and Moscow without any results and in the end he died. Not only was he unable to achieve his desired goal, but he also failed to meet and speak with the Russian Emperor concerning his plan.”55 Here it must be noted that it seems Teimuraz II’s anti-Catholic actions did not stem from his own worldview and inner mindset. There is some information related to the moment of Teimuraz II’s passing (in 1762) to indicate this. Before dying he asked his heirs to protect the Catholics and even declared himself to be “an Eastern Catholic” (his words in Georgian: “მეც ხომ აღმოსავლეთის კათოლიკე ვარ”).56 It is significant that in the 1760s, King Erekle II attempted to bring back the Catholics expelled by Teimuraz II in the 1720s.57 52. For a full version of the letter by Padre Fortunato de Trento, see Georgian Material of the APF, III, 84, as cited in: Doborjginidze, On the Reconstruction, 249. [დობორჯგინიძე, საისტორიო მეხსიერების, 249]. 53. Raymond Janin, “Géorgie,” Dictionnaire de Théologie Catholique, translated from French into Georgian by Mzia Mgaloblishvili, 15 vols. (Tbilisi, 1996), VI, part 1, p. 85. [ჟანენი, რემონ. “საქართველო” (სტატია ამოღებული კათოლიკური ღვთისმეტყველების ფრანგულენოვანი ენციკლოპედიიდან, ტომი VI, ნაწ. I. პარიზი, 1924). ფრანგულიდან თარგმნა მზია მგალობლიშვილმა. თბ.: ნეკერი, 1996, 85]. 54. Document 24, APF, fondo “Georgia,” 1779–1790, IV, fols. 99r–102v., as cited in: Papashvili et al, European Sources about Georgia (18th c), 105. [დოკუმენტი 24, APF, Fondo “Georgia,” 1779–1790, IV, fols. 99r–102v., ციტირ.: პაპაშვილი, მურმან და სხვები. ევროპული წყაროები საქართველოს შესახებ (მე-18 საუკუნე), 2020, 105]. 55. Doborjginidze, On the Reconstruction, 245. [დობორჯგინიძე, საისტორიო მეხსიერების, 245]. 56. Nino Makhatadze, “Arrival of Teimuraz II in Saint Petersburg,” in: The Centre of Georgian Culture in Saint Petersburg, XVIII-XIX centuries (Tbilisi, 1967), 158–63. [მახათაძე, ნინო. “თეიმურაზ მეორის ჩასვლა პეტერბურგში”, წიგნში: ნინო მახათაძე. ქართული კულტურის კერა პეტერბურგში, XVIII–XIX სს. თბ., საბჭოთა საქართველო, 1967, 158–63]. 57. Dumbadze, Essays in the History of Georgia, IV, 780. [დუმბაძე, საქ. ისტ. ნარკვევები, 780]. 582 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE After the circulation of The Anvil, the interest in European culture did not diminish, but rather grew even stronger. Collections containing the ideas of the French Enlightenment thinkers were translated by the Georgians. The most interesting fact in this context is as follows: through King Vakhtang’s commission in 1730, Nikoloz Orbeliani copied Peter Moghila’s “Confession of Faith” (originally written in Latin, “Expositio Fidei”)58 translated into Georgian by King Archil. This main work by Metropolitan Peter Moghila of Kiev (1596–1646) is also known as The Orthodox Confession of Faith (1640).59 Not only is it possible to sense a Catholic influence on this symbolic book, it had also been compiled according to Latin catechisms written by St. Peter Canisius and others.60 Thus, Moghila’s catechism was not only created in a Latin style and methodology, but also contained Catholic doctrinal ideas—namely, the author had included teachings about Purgatory and Eucharistic transubstantiation. It is true that this work was approved at a church council in Kiev, but an agreement on these two issues could not be reached among council participants, which were later corrected by the Council of Jassy in 1642.61 As prominent Orthodox scholar, Kallistos Ware, notes, “Even in its revised form, the Confession of Moghila is still the most Latin document ever to be adopted by an official Council of the Orthodox Church.”62 Thus, the translation of this work written in a Catholic spirit and style by Moghila into Georgian in 1730 is yet more evidence that The Anvil published in 58. Kikodze, Vakhtang VI as a Statesman, 190. [ქიქოძე, ვახტანგ VI-ის სახელმწიფოებრივი მოღვაწეობა, 190]. 59. Petr Moghila, The Orthodox Confession of the Catholic and Apostolic Eastern Church, (English translation), ed. and preface by Julian Joseph Overbeck, introduction by James Robertson (London 1898). 60. Kallistos Ware, “Petr Moghila,” in: Encyclopedia of Religion, 2nd ed., ed. Lindsay Jones, 15 vols. (New York, 2005), XII, 7072; Konstantin Gavrilkin, “Peter Moghila,” in: The Encyclopedia of Eastern Orthodox Christianity, ed. John A. McGuckin (Chichester, 2011), 390; Ihor Ševčenko, “The Many Worlds of Peter Mohyla,” Harvard Ukrainian Studies, 8, nos. 1– 2 (1984), 9–44; Ronald Popivchak, Peter Mohila, Metropolitan of Kiev (1633–47): Translation and Evolution of his “Orthodox Confession of Faith” (1640) (Washington, DC, 1975); William Medlin and Christos Patrinelis, Renaissance Influences and Religious Reforms in Russia: Western and Post-Byzantine Impacts on Culture and Education, Sixteenth-Seventeenth Centuries (Geneva, 1971), 124–49; Georges Florovsky, Ways of Russian Theology (Moscow, 2009), 65ff. [Георгий Флоровский. Пути Русского Богословия. М., Институт Русской Цивилизации, 2009, 65ff]; Liudmila Charipova, Latin Books and the Eastern Orthodox Clerical Elite in Kiev, 1632–1780 (Manchester, 2006). 61. Dan Sandu, “Iasi (Jassy), Synod of (1642),” in: The Encyclopedia of Eastern Orthodox Christianity, 2 vols. (Malden, MA, 2011), I, 325. 62. Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Church (Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1963), 107. DAVID TINIKASHVILI 583 1724 had not had any kind of stable influence on the Georgian consciousness in terms of spreading and preserving an anti-Catholic spirit. In the mid-nineteenth century, it was Russia that opposed Catholics living in Georgia, with some preferred harsh methods of enforcing this.63 After the occupation of Georgia in 1801, the Russian government forbade Georgians to receive the Catholic faith,64 and starting on January 2, 1845, an intensive expulsion of Catholic missionaries began in Georgia.65 Thus, the diminishing numbers of Catholics in Georgia was the result of the Russian Empire’s anti-Catholic religious repressions, and not the merit of Bessarion’s tract. Conclusion If based only on an examination of the history of this period in Georgia and of Bessarion’s biography, The Anvil could be seen as a typical expression of analogous anti-Catholic reactions in the East during the eighteenth century. Yet when placed in the broader history of the Georgian Church, it becomes clear that The Anvil is not the norm but rather the sole exception: no other text with similar substance and spirit was written before or after it. It is possible that Bessarion’s complaints resembled familiar instances where both Churches found some reason or excuse to criticize one another. Even before the “Great Schism,” Western Christianity developed different customs from Eastern Christianity; nevertheless, such differences were not regarded as matters for criticism until after the Christian East and West had grown apart due to political and cultural factors. Bessarion’s consideration of the subject appears to have been highly superficial. This indicates 63. David Tinikashvili, “Anti-Western Religious Policy of Russian Empire and its Consequences in Nineteenth-century Georgia,” in: Visible and Invisible Religion: Socio-Political and Cultural Dimension of Religious Issues, ed. Sophie Zviadadze (Tbilisi, 2020), 129–79. [თინიკაშვილი, დავით. “რუსეთის იმპერიის ანტიდასავლური რელიგიური პოლიტიკა და მისი ასახვა მეცხრამეტე საუკუნის საქართველოში”, ხილული და უხილავი რელიგია: რელიგიის საკითხების სოციო-პოლიტიკური და კულტურული განზომილება საქართველოში. რედ.: სოფო ზვიადაძე. თბ., ილიას სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტის გამომცემლობა 2020, 129-79]. 64. Tamarashvili, The History of Catholicism, 516. [თამარაშვილი, ისტორია კათოლიკობისა, 516]. 65. Murman Papashvili. Interrelations between Rome and Georgia, VI–XX Centuries (Tbilisi: 1995), 312, 314. [პაპაშვილი, მურმან. საქართველო-რომის ურთიერთობა, VI–XX სს. თბ., აღმაშენებელი 1995, 312, 314]. 584 AN ANTI-CATHOLIC GEORGIAN THEOLOGICAL TREATISE that he was not even aware of the reasons why there was an inimical relationship between Orthodoxy and Catholicism. So it is not surprising that the treatise had no long-term and firm anti-Catholic impact on the masses, nor on Church and State authorities responsible for Georgia’s domestic and foreign policies. More important in Georgian history there was an energetic aspiration towards the Christian West, demonstrated through political activity and the literary pursuits of Georgian intellectual circles. All of these developments suggest that the tide continued to turn towards Latin intellectual trends and scientific ideas. Brownson, Politics, and “The Laboring Classes” During a Presidential Election PATRICK W. CAREY* A little more than three years before his conversion to the Catholic Church, Orestes Brownson wrote a radical essay on “The Laboring Classes.” Brownson had a life-long sympathy for the poor working classes. His essay’s Unitarian-Transcendentalist Christian arguments, and its proto-Marxist critique of the systemic evils of an economy that weighed heavily on the working class, created a widespread animated reaction in the political community during a presidential election, and eventually caused Brownson himself to rethink his own religious arguments. Keywords: Orestes A. Brownson, Martin Van Buren, laboring classes, Christianity, Félicité de Lamennais. T he presidential campaign of 1840 produced what Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. called “one of the most remarkable of the documents of Jacksonian democracy.”1 Orestes A. Brownson’s “The Laboring Classes,” an article published in the Boston Quarterly Review in July 1840, is remarkable, this paper argues, because it combined Brownson’s Transcendentalism, his idealist philosophy and theology, the rhetoric of the workingmen’s movement, and concrete proposals for radical legislative reforms that would create equal opportunity in American democratic society.2 In short, it reflected currents of American intellectual, religious, and social life in the early nineteenth century. “Laboring Classes,” moreover, was the first social * Dr. Carey is Professor Emeritus of the Department of Theology, Marquette University. His email address is: patrick.carey@marquette.edu. 1. Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., The Age of Jackson (Boston, 1945), 299. 2. “Laboring Classes” has received a considerable amount of attention and historical analyses: see, for example, Henry Brownson, Orestes A. Brownson’s Early Life: From 1803 to 1844 (Detroit, 1898), 240–67; Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., “Orestes Brownson: An American Marxist Before Marx,” Sewanee Review 47, no. 3 (1939), 317–23; Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., Orestes A. Brownson: A Pilgrim’s Progress (Boston, 1939), 88–111; Thomas R. Ryan, Orestes A. Brownson: A Definitive Biography (Huntington, Indiana, 1976), 164–90; and Patrick W. Carey, Orestes A. Brownson: American Religious Weathervane (Grand Rapids, MI, 2004), 90– 94, and 395–96 for additional bibliography. 585 586 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” gospel in America, but unlike the Protestant Social Gospel at the end of the nineteenth century, Brownson’s social gospel preached a revolutionary critique of the Christian churches and called for specific revisions in American law. Political democracy, he had argued for the previous ten years, had been won; what was needed in American society was a social democracy that would make political democracy a practical reality. Brownson’s intentionally provocative article is an American classic—a classic, unfortunately, that is not included in a relatively recent anthology of American Transcendentalism.3 Nor has it, or any of Brownson’s other works, ever been included in The Norton Anthology of American Literature, an anthology that many college sophomores used to read. This paper argues here, as a sub-thesis, that the essay should be included in these kinds of anthologies because it is good American literature, reflecting a socialist viewpoint that counters that of Emerson, Thoreau, and other Transcendentalists whose subjective selfreliance presents only one side of the American disposition in the early nineteenth century. The end of this paper will suggest some purely speculative reasons for why Brownson’s works have not been included in some modern anthologies of American literature. Since the financial panic of 1837, Brownson had become more and more extreme and even apocalyptic on the debilitating effects of the long economic depression on the working class. Although as steward of the Chelsea Marine Hospital he was himself removed from the more crushing financial effects of the depression, he had always identified himself with the “poorer and most numerous classes” of society. The presidential campaign gave him an occasion to vent his frustrations. In December of 1839 the Whigs chose General William Henry Harrison and John Tyler to run for the presidency and vice presidency against the Democratic incumbent, Martin Van Buren. During the presidential campaign of 1840, the Whigs presented Harrison as the 1811 war hero over the Indian Chief Tecumseh at Prophetstown, Indiana (near present-day Lafayette) on the Tippecanoe River. “Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too,” the Whig politicians proclaimed. The race for the presidency was one of the most memorable in American history. It brought out the largest percentage (80%) of the electorate up to 1840, a trend of popular participation in presidential elections that would continue for much of the nineteenth century. In the choice of an old war hero, the Whigs had imitated the Democrats who had put up General Jackson in 1828. The imitation, however, went 3. See Joel Myerson, ed., Transcendentalism: A Reader (New York, 2000). PATRICK W. CAREY 587 FIGURE 1. Alexander L. Dick, Orestes Augustus Brownson, 1840, engraved print from a daguerreotype miniature. Engraved originally for the U.S. Magazine & Democratic Review; published in the Democratic Review, 1843. Image is in the public domain; image access courtesy of the Library of Congress. much further than the selection of a candidate. The Whigs, the moneyed class in Brownson’s view, ran a popular campaign, appealing to the common people, as had the Democrats during Jackson’s runs for the presidency. The Whig campaign identified Harrison with “log cabins” and “hard cider,” with heroism and leadership in war, and with common honesty and simplicity. The Whigs identified themselves as the real democrats in American society, those who favored the common and working-class people. The Whigs presented Van Buren as a despotic elitist whose legislative and administrative measures had brought ruin to the economy. “Harrison and Prosperity or Van Buren and Ruin,” “Down with Martin Van Ruin,” “Van, Van, Van—Van’s a Used Up Man,” and other slogans tipped the tide for “Old Tip.” The crowds could sing the tunes the politicians created: Farewell dear Van, You’re not our man; To guide the ship We’ll try old Tip 588 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” FIGURE 2. Alexander Cofffman Ross, score for “Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too!” Copyrighted and published by George E. Blake, 1840. Image is in the public domain. The Whigs learned how to appeal to the electorate. Jingles abounded, though, on both sides of the political divide. The tediousness of modern campaign sloganeering had arrived. The race for the presidency appealed to the common man and added to the common language. A Philadelphia distiller, E. G. Booz, sold whiskey in log cabin bottles to promote “Old Tip,” and ever since, “booze” has entered American slang for whiskey itself. Not to be outdone in adding to the American lexicon, the Democrats produced “Old Kinderhook” (O.K.) to describe Van Buren. “Down with the Whigs, boys, O.K.,” the Democrats shouted.4 4. For the slogans listed in the text and for the information on booze and O.K., this author is indebted to Michael F. Holt, The Rise and Fall of the American Whig Party: Jacksonian Politics and the Onset of the Civil War (New York, 1999), 107, 109, 111. PATRICK W. CAREY 589 Historians from Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. onwards have interpreted the Whig campaign as one of the first of the many modern campaigns without a thorough or substantive discussion of real issues.5 It was a campaign of images created by competing newspapers and by sloganeering political pundits. There is much truth in that characterization, but, as Michael F. Holt and others have argued, there were substantive issues in the Whig campaign, particularly the “restoration of prosperity and the salvation of republicanism itself.”6 The economy was still in a depressed state, and the Whigs believed they had the best chance of winning the election. They projected the issue even in their slogans. Brownson, the Unitarian minister, political theorist, editor, political appointee, partisan Democrat, Transcendentalist, social radical, and friend of the working men’s movement stumped and wrote for the Democratic campaign, trying to paint the Whigs into a corner by identifying their principles and practices with those of the privileged and wealthy classes of society. Wherever he went, he carried the same constant refrain. The great struggle of the day, he told students of Brown University in September of 1839, was “between the accumulator of wealth and the simple laborer who actually produces it; briefly, a struggle between MAN and MONEY.”7 In speech after speech and essay after essay he identified the Whigs with property, the Democrats with humanity; the Whigs with limited suffrage, the Democrats with universal suffrage; the Whigs with the capitalist class, the Democrats with the working class.8 The Massachusetts Democrats invited him to give the 1840 Fourth of July address to the people of Worcester. That address presented the American Revolution as a providential event that benefitted the entire human race but had not yet realized its full promise. The democratic revolution still had to be actualized in the social and economic areas of American life if it was to fulfill its mission in the world. The purpose of the speech was to put the political campaign into the wider lens of an historical panorama in which the Democrats were presented as the modern providential emancipators of the people and the Whigs as the agents of the oppressive com5. See, e.g., Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., ed., History of American Presidential Elections 1789–1968, 4 vols. (New York, 1971), I, 643–90. For a description of the 1840 campaign, see also Schlesinger Jr., The Age of Jackson, 290–305. 6. Holt, Rise and Fall of the American Whig Party, 105. 7. Orestes Brownson, “American Literature,” Boston Quarterly Review [hereafter BQR], 2, no. 1 (1840), 74. 8. See, for example, Orestes Brownson, “The Whig Answer,” BQR 3, no. 2 (1840), 238–58. 590 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” mercial class. The Whigs had indeed been important in the human race’s history of freedom, Brownson admitted, but their time had passed. The Whig revolution of 1688 was the first modern struggle for liberty. It was the uprising of the commercial class against the barons of feudalism; it aimed to free capital from the clutches of the landed barons. The American Revolution severed ties with that Whig revolution. The American revolution was a movement for man, not money, and it gave the United States a mission “to emancipate labor, and to raise up the individual laborer to the level of a man.”9 The Democratic Party was the continuing agent of the American revolution. Its goal was to foster social as well as political equality and freedom in the United States. “America is freedom’s chosen land. It is to freedom what Palestine was to piety.”10 The Whigs had had their day in the providential mission of bringing freedom to humanity, and their current attempts to disguise themselves as true democrats was all smoke and screens. Despite all his earlier protestations to the contrary, Brownson was a participant in the new partisan party politics of the day.11 Much that Brownson wrote in the Quarterly pushed his own Democratic agenda in 1840, particularly focusing upon the needs and votes of the working class, many of whom probably did not read his essays. In his 1840 “Introductory Statement” for his Quarterly he acknowledged that he had always stood as an advocate for the working classes, even when that was very unpopular in the community. But he now believed that he no longer stood alone in that regard. The journal was going to continue to support that cause and, despite the concerns of some of his readers, the cause of the Democratic Party.12 In his review of Félicité de Lamennais’ The People’s Own Book (1839), moreover, he reiterated his long-held view of the inherent connection between liberty and Christianity, arguing that Christians had the responsibility to help restore to people their rights and to correct 9. Orestes Brownson, An Oration Before the Democracy of Worcester and Vicinity, Delivered at Worcester, Mass., July 4, 1840 (Boston, 1840), 15. 10. Ibid., 34. 11. On partisan party politics in 1840, see Glenn C. Altschuler and Stuart M. Blumin, Rude Republic: Americans and Their Politics in the Nineteenth Century (Princeton, 2000), 18: “Eighteen forty is the annus mirabilis of American partisan democracy.” See also 36–37 for various historical interpretations of the presidential election of 1840. On the religious and particularly the Evangelical side of the presidential campaign of 1840, see Richard J. Carwardine, Evangelicals and Politics in Antebellum America (New Haven, 1993), 50–70. 12. Orestes Brownson, “Introductory Statement,” BQR, 2, no. 1 (1840), 2. PATRICK W. CAREY 591 FIGURE 3. Jean-Baptiste Paulin Guérin, Felicité Robert de Lamennais, 1827, oil on canvas. Painting is in the public domain. all social abuses.13 Christianity, as Lamennais held, was particularly on the side of the poor and oppressed peoples of society. Christianity was at the root of democracy, and democracy stood for the people most in need. There was within Christianity a reforming and purifying spirit that worked progressively throughout history for the emancipation and liberation of the entire human race. That too was what the Democratic Party was called to do if it was to realize its true mission. Brownson’s political campaigning, his essays, and his lectures during 1839 and 1840 underlined his synthesis of Christianity and democracy, 13. Orestes Brownson, “The People’s Own Book,” BQR, 2, no. 1 (1840), 117–27. Lamennais’ Le Livre du Peuple (Paris, 1838) was translated by Nathaniel Greene as The People’s Own Book (Boston, 1839). During his early intellectual development, Brownson was drawn to Lamennais and a French social and philosophical tradition that he saw as a counter to an increasing American individualism. See, for example, citations of Lamennais in his “Democracy of Christianity,” BQR, 1, no. 4 (1838), 444–73; his major articles on Pierre Leroux in his “Leroux on Humanity,” BQR, 5, no. 3 (1842), 257–322; “Synthetic Philosophy,” United States Magazine and Democratic Review 11, no. 54 (1842), 567–78; 12, no. 55 (1843), 38–55; l2, no. 56 (1843), 241–54; and his encounters with Victor Cousin’s Eclecticism in “Cousin’s Philosophy,” The Christian Examiner and Gospel Review 21 (September 1836), 33–64, “The Eclectic Philosophy,” BQR, 2, no. 1 (1839), 27–53; and “Eclecticism— Ontology,” BQR, 2, no. 2 (1839), 169–87. 592 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” religion and social reform, the internal religious sentiment, and politics.14 Those writings and speeches, moreover, continued to support reforms in American society that provided for a more equitable distribution of wealth especially for the working (or productive) class in American society. None of them, however, had the sharpness, specificity, and evocative power of his classic “Laboring Classes”15 essay, the bombshell that landed on the politicians’ playground in July of 1840 during the high point of the presidential campaign. That essay manifested his penchant for sharp social and economic criticism, his biting denunciations of the church and the priesthood, his idealist-theological and Transcendentalist view of Christianity, his revolutionary religious and legislative proposals for economic opportunity in the United States, and his utter disdain for political expediency in the midst of a presidential campaign. “Laboring Classes” combined Brownson’s Transcendentalist philosophical, religious, political, and social views like no previous single piece of writing had. It attracted an enormous amount of national attention primarily because it was timely published during the peak period of a hotly contested and rabble-rousing presidential campaign.16 Published outside of such a context, it probably would not have received the attention it did. Much of what he wrote in that essay he had written before. The ideas in the essay would not have been new to his regular readers. The article, though, was insightful, forceful, and clearly written. In Arthur Schlesinger Jr.’s opinion it was “by far the best study of the workings of society written by an American before the Civil War, and probably for some time after.”17 But it also had the kind of specificity that Whig opponents could latch onto like blood suckers. Brownson was aware that some of his legislative proposals would be unpopular, and he did not think 14. See, for example, Orestes Brownson, “The Kingdom of God,” BQR, 2, no. 3 (1839), 326–50; Orestes Brownson, “Education of the People,” BQR, 2, no. 4 (1839), 393– 434; Orestes Brownson, “Democracy and Reform,” BQR, 2, no. 4 (1839), 478–517; Orestes Brownson, “The Whig Answer”; and Orestes Brownson, An Oration before the Democracy of Worcester and Vicinity, Delivered at Worcester, Mass., July 4, 1840 (Boston, 1840). 15. See also Patrick W. Carey, ed., The Early Works of Orestes A. Brownson, 7 vols. (Milwaukee, WI, 2000–2007), V, 298–327. 16. Laboring Classes” was published not only in the Quarterly but also as a pamphlet. See Orestes Brownson, The Laboring Classes, an Article from the BQR (Boston, 1840). Four Greene editions were published in 1840 and one in 1842. See also Orestes Brownson, The Rich Against the Poor: The Labouring Classes (New York, 1840). As will be evident later, portions of the essay were also published in various newspapers and other pamphlets during the presidential campaign. 17. Schlesinger Jr., “Orestes Brownson: An American Marxist Before Marx,” 321. PATRICK W. CAREY 593 the country was ready for them, but he also thought that the entire essay offered the country a social gospel that transcended time and space, and presidential elections. He had no idea, though, that the essay itself would become part of a Whig smear campaign against the Democratic Party and Van Buren. Since the financial panic and depression of 1837, Brownson had focused on the capitalists’ exploitation of the working and productive classes.18 In 1840 and throughout the early 1840s, moreover, he underlined the systemic problems in the American business cycle. In 1843, for example, he analyzed the economic cycle of feast and famine with a freshness and original insight that professional economists would not detect for generations. The economy just could not keep up, he wrote in 1843, an “equilibrium between production and consumption.” We create a surplus—that is, a surplus, not when we consider the wants of the people, but when we consider the state of the market—and then must slacken our hands till the surplus is worked off. During this time, while we are working off this surplus, while the mills run short time, or stop altogether, the workmen must want employment. The evil is inherent in the system.19 He had lived through the depression of 1819, and now he was living in the continuing depression of the financial collapse of 1837. The problems were systemic, not just a matter of personal greed and willful exploitation of the laboring classes. “Laboring Classes” analyzed the systemic economic problems that had devastating effects on the lower classes the world over. The essay was suffused with a class-conscious analysis that foresaw an impending crisis in the relations of wealth and labor that would eventually end in a war between the productive laboring classes and the unproductive and exploitative capitalist and industrial classes. But it was more than a class-conscious analysis of a rising industrial capitalism; it was a prophetic blast against 18. See, for example, Orestes Brownson, Babylon is Falling. A Discourse Preached in the Masonic Temple, to the Society for Christian Union and Progress, on Sunday Morning, May 28, 1837 (Boston, 1837); Orestes Brownson, “Democracy,” BQR, 1, no. 1 (1838), 33–74; Orestes Brownson, “Tendency of Modern Civilization,” BQR, 1, no. 2 (1838), 200–38; Brownson, “Democracy of Christianity,” no. 4 (1838), 444–73; Brownson, “The Kingdom of God,”BQR, 2 (1839), 326–50 and Brownson, “Democracy and Reform,” BQR, 2 (1839), 478–517. 19. Orestes Brownson, “The Present State of Society,” United States Magazine and Democratic Review 13, no. 61 (1843), 34. See also The Works of Orestes A. Brownson, ed. Henry F. Brownson, 20 vols. (Detroit, 1882–87), IV, 453 (hereafter Works). 594 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” churchmen, lawyers, legislators, and other participants and benefactors of the industrial system who used the system to protect their vested interests. The real “enemy” of the laboring classes was not, Brownson asserted, the aristocratic class, but the middle-class managers and employers who pressed the laborers down to squeeze out of them every ounce of effort they could get to fill their own pockets with the fruits of that labor, and then, when they could no longer peddle their products, they let the laborers go to fend for themselves. Nevertheless: the evil was not just personal greed or selfishness; it was in the system. The injustice revealed itself in an “unequal repartition of the fruits of industry.”20 The laborer did not get a fair share of the joint product of capital and labor. “Men are rewarded,” he wrote, “in an inverse ratio to the amount of actual service they perform.”21 The whole industrial system was complicated by the fact that all the power and resources were on the side of the capitalists and the industrialists. The laborers had nothing but their hands to offer; they had no capital, no tools, no land, no resources by which they could have any real power in the system. By Brownson’s definition the laborer was a dependent, totally subservient to the employer. As dependents, those in the “wage system” were no better off than those in the “slave system.” In fact, Brownson argued, those in the wageslavery system who were subject to the business cycles were worse off in terms of the actual living conditions than were those slaves whose physical needs were cared for by Southern masters. Brownson did not approve of slavery, he reminded his readers, but he also pointed to the hypocrisy of those Northern industrialist abolitionists who opposed slavery in the South but cared not a lick for slavery in their own backyards. The system of wage slavery must, he asserted, be replaced by “some other system.”22 Brownson’s analysis and proto-Marxian critique of the rising industrialist and capitalist system in American society was radical for 1840, eight years before the Communist Manifesto (1848). Several Boston social reformers and early American economists were aware of the unequal distribution of wealth and the pockets of poverty in seaport cities and industrial towns. But few had perceived the problem in terms of the rising eco20. “The Laboring Classes,” 365. 21. Ibid., 367. 22. Ibid., 372. PATRICK W. CAREY 595 nomic system. For economists and reformers alike the problems of poverty in society were attributed to individual failures. For some Evangelical Protestants and Unitarians, too, poverty and the inequities in society were ultimately a part of the Providential economy. Defining the problems in these ways determined the remedies reformers applied. Those who saw the problems in society as the result of a lack of skills, self-culture, or religious conversion focused on fostering education, conscience, and rightful religious dispositions as the solutions to the problems. From Brownson’s perspective, these solutions were the false remedies of “priests and pedagogues,” those in society who were leagued “with the people’s masters.” Promoting education, self-culture, or religious conversion had “the advantage that kings, hierarchies, nobilities, in a word, all who fatten on the toil and blood of their fellows, will feel no difficulty in supporting”23 such solutions. Priests and pedagogues proposed generally beneficial approaches, but they sought to reform the individual “without disturbing the social arrangements” that protected their own vested interests.24 Strong medicine was needed to heal society’s ulcer. “The evil is inherent in all our social arrangements and cannot be cured without a radical change of those arrangements.”25 One needed to change the system, not the laborers or the managers. But the economic system was so organically linked to the religious and political structures that a wholesale reform of multiple institutions was necessary to achieve justice for the working classes. Brownson proposed, therefore, three radical systemic solutions to the problem he had identified: destroy the priesthood, resuscitate genuine Christianity, and reform government and legislation. The first remedy was to demolish the priestly caste. Brownson distinguished between the genuine Christianity of Christ (i.e., the invisible, universal and eternal word or idea that existed in the mind of God) from the Christianity of the Church (i.e., the historically conditioned and visibly organized but changeable religious form). The priesthood as a corporation or a caste was a core part of the Christianity of the Church. Applying biblical and republican and anti-clerical and deist-like language, which he had used since he was a Universalist minister, he mounted a major assault upon a corporate priesthood that had historically accumulated power and prestige, had confined the eternal word or spirit of Christianity to its own 23. Ibid., 373. 24. Ibid., 374. 25. Ibid., 375. 596 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” narrow forms, and had thereby prevented the emergence of the genuine Christianity of Christ. Priests acted as a caste or corporation, thinking that they had a monopoly on the spirit. Human beings were naturally religious, but in the Christianity of the Church, the people, particularly the lower classes, were subjugated by priests who were in league with the masters of industry and therefore could not preach a message to liberate people from the unjust structures from which the ministers themselves had profited. Brownson’s essay indicted the clergy in general but also the interlocking relationships between the wealthy Bostonian Unitarian capitalists and the Unitarian ministry. His generalizations were based on his own Boston experience. Like the Old Testament prophet Jeremiah and like some eighteenthcentury American revivalists, Brownson spoke out against the abuses of the priesthood and an unconverted ministry. Genuine Christianity recognized no mediator between God and humanity but he who died on the cross. The priesthood had usurped that role. “The priest,” he roared, “is universally a tyrant, universally the enslaver of his brethren, and therefore it is Christianity condemns him.”26 He objected to “an outward visible church” and called, therefore, for the elimination of the Christianity of the Church and its prime supporter, the priestly caste, as one of the first means for elevating the laboring classes. His diatribe against the priesthood had Deist language, but no Deist agenda. Instead, he called for the resuscitation of genuine Christianity, the Christianity of Christ, as the second step in elevating the laboring classes and eliminating the social arrangements that imprisoned labor. The Christianity of Christ was Brownson’s idealist Christianity, the transcendental ideas and ideals that existed eternally in the mind of God and needed to be actualized in human hearts, human history, and human institutions. It was that ideal Christianity that rose up in protest against the Christianity of the Church. “One might as well undertake to dip the ocean dry with a clamshell, as to undertake to cure the evils of the social state by converting men to the Christianity of the church.”27 The Christianity of Christ had no need for mediators, institutional arrangements, or religious specialists. Christ, the human embodiment of the transcendental ideals, had appealed to the natural religious spirit of all. According to Christ, no one could enter the Kingdom of God who did not labor to establish that Kingdom on earth, and his mission on earth 26. Ibid., 385. 27. Ibid., 376. PATRICK W. CAREY 597 to bring down the high, and bring up the low; to break the fetters of the bound and set the captive free; to destroy all oppression, establish the reign of justice, which is the reign of equality, between man and man; to introduce new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, wherein all shall be as brothers, loving one another, and no one possessing what another lacketh.28 Only the Christianity of Christ could elevate the laboring class by an “exaltation of sentiment, the generous sympathy and the moral courage which Christianity alone is fitted to produce or quicken.”29 Reforming government and legislation was Brownson’s third remedy to eliminate the evil social structures. The evils were part of the constitution of society, and government was the agent of society. Government—influenced by the industrialists, capitalists, lawyers, ministers, educators, and others of the unproductive classes of society—had enacted laws that protected vested interests. To reform government meant that politicians had to repeal all laws against the laboring class, enact laws that would enable working people to maintain their equality, free the government from the control of banks, and destroy all monopolies and all privileges that were protected by current legislation. A first step in eliminating all privileges, he suggested, should be the elimination of all laws that shielded the hereditary descent of property, that is, the privilege of being born rich. Inheritance laws had to go. He knew such a proposal would be unpopular, but he insisted that it ought to be discussed as a means of creating greater opportunities for all in society. Brownson admitted in the course of the essay that he was intentionally using strong language to convey his message about an equitable distribution of the goods of creation. Strong rhetoric would arrest attention, he predicted—correctly, as it turned out. The essay created an avalanche of reactions from across the nation. The Whigs in particular found in it confirmation of all that they suspected about the Democrats. Here was a prominent Democrat, the Whig papers proclaimed, and look at what he was prescribing, nothing short of a revolutionary overturn of church and society. The essay was filled with atheism or a Tom Paine-like anti-religious spirit. Agrarianism, social radicalism, class warfare—all were evident in the piece. The sacred rights to property 28. Ibid., 388. 29. Ibid., 390. 598 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” and the system of free labor and wages were destroyed by such Locofoco Democratic tirades.30 The titles of some 1840 Whig pamphlets tell something of the violent reactions: Calvin Colton’s American Jacobinism; Warren B. Ewer’s Horrible Doctrines!!!: Loco-Focoism Unmasked; Henry Clay’s Loco-Focos, as Displayed in the Boston Magazine against Schools and Ministers, and in Favor of Robbing Children of the Property of their Parents; New York Fraud: Conspiracy of the Office Holders Unmasked. The Whig newspapers excerpted large segments of the essay in the papers, and the Whig party reproduced the entire text by the tens of thousands and distributed it across the country to demonstrate better than anything else the dangers of continuing the Democrats in office. Horace Greeley, Daniel Webster, and Thurlow Weed were among those who attacked Brownson’s doctrines. Old John Quincy Adams in Boston wrote in his diary that “Brownson and the Marat-Democrats” along with the Transcendentalists, abolitionists, and phrenologists were rascals that disturbed the times.31 Even some of Brownson’s old friends, like George Bancroft, shied away from him and clearly wanted to separate the Democratic ticket from his harangue.32 Brownson had sinned against the Democratic Party, and some in the party questioned why he was not removed from his patronage position in the Chelsea Marine Hospital.33 William Ellery Channing, the elder dean of Unitarianism, also reacted to Brownson’s essay, but mostly through private correspondence. He did not support the public outcry against Brownson nor the Whig’s distribution of the document for vicious campaign purposes, but he did not approve of Brownson’s views either. He told Elizabeth Peabody that he was sympathetic with Brownson’s feelings for the masses (although he hated that word), but he had “little patience” with the whole spirit of the article. Brownson had exaggerated the conditions of the working class and overlooked the struggles of young professionals, lawyers and doctors, the diffi30. A small sample of the numerous newspaper reactions can be found in the Madisonian, August 4, 1840; Log Cabin, August 1, 1840; New York Review, 7, no. 14 (1840), 514–22; Christian Review, 5, no. 19 (1840), 419–42; Boston Atlas, July 21, 24, 29, 1840. For a listing of the newspaper and other reactions, see Schlesinger Jr., The Age of Jackson, 302–04. See also Schlesinger Jr., Orestes A. Brownson, 100–07. 31. See Charles Francis Adams, ed., Memoirs of John Quincy Adams, comprising portions of his diary from 1795 to 1848, 12 vols. (Freeport, New York, 1969), X, 345. 32. On Bancroft’s views, see Lilian Handlin, George Bancroft: The Intellectual as Democrat (New York, 1984), 180. See also Russel B. Nye, George Bancroft: Brahmin Rebel (New York, 1945), 124. 33. Schlesinger Jr., The Age of Jackson, 303. PATRICK W. CAREY 599 culties of merchants, the sufferings of the literary class, and the hardships of widows and dependent women. Brownson was exaggerating the evils, setting class against class and dividing, not uniting, the nation. Brownson’s solutions, moreover, were “shocking” and “absurd.” His suggestion of an emerging war between the classes and his proposal to eliminate legislation on inheritance would produce “universal poverty and woe.”34 No American Catholic is known to have responded in 1840 to Brownson’s essay. In fact, most Catholic leaders did not respond to anything Brownson ever wrote until 1843 when he began writing articles on his doctrine of life by communion, which argued that the visible and authoritative Catholic Church and the sacraments were the divinely instituted means of individual and social regeneration and reform—a view that separated him significantly from his laboring classes essay.35 The American Catholic Mathew Carey, as Karen Kauffman has demonstrated, had like Brownson a life-long concern for the working class, although he, unlike Brownson, argued that benevolence and higher wages would transform the conditions of the poor laborers.36 Brownson appears not to have known anything of Carey’s articles. In 1840, he focused on systemic evils. In 1844, the year of his conversion, as Henry Brownson relates, his father’s reading of a lecture Bishop John Hughes delivered on the Christian basis of the science of political economy “greatly increased” his father’s “growing sympathy” with the Catholic Church.37 Brownson noted in The Convert, his 1857 apology for his 1844 conversion to Catholicism, that the essay on the laboring classes, which he then 34. Channing to Peabody, September 1840, in Elizabeth P. Peabody, Reminiscences of Rev. Wm. Ellery Channing, D.D. (Boston, 1880), 415–16. 35. In 1836, a Boston Catholic editor did refer to Brownson in “New Religious Society,” Boston Pilot, July 2, 1836, which called attention to Brownson’s “Society for Christian Union and Progress.” The editor noted that there could be no real union and progress without a visible and authoritative Catholic Church. Brownson dismissed the article by saying that the mission of the Catholic Church has passed. See [Brownson], “Church and Reform,” The Boston Reformer, July 21, 1836 In 1843, however, a few Catholic newspapers followed and commented favorably on Brownson’s articles in the Christian World on life by communion and the salvific importance of the mediation of the Catholic Church and its sacraments. On this, see Carey, Orestes A. Brownson: American Religious Weathervane, 97–133, especially 118–122. 36. “‘No Fair Claim to the Character of Christians’: Mathew Carey’s Path to Benevolence for Philadelphia’s Female Working Poor,” Catholic Historical Review, 105, no. 3 (2019), 480–502. 37. See Brownson, Orestes A. Brownson’s Early Life, 385. For a reprinted of Bishop Hughes’ A Lecture on the Importance of a Christian Basis for the Science of Political Economy, and Its Application to the Affairs of Life (1844), see Patrick W. Carey, American Catholic Religious Thought: The Shaping of a Theological and Social Tradition (Milwaukee, 2004), 72, 277–301. 600 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” designated as those “horrible doctrines,” produced “one universal scream of horror.”38 The reactions were indeed predominantly negative, but Brownson exaggerated the impact. A number of Democratic papers defended him and his right to his opinion even though some of them did not agree with his notions of inheritance.39 Some Transcendentalists, too, favored Brownson’s critique. Theodore Parker wrote in his journal that it made “a great noise. The Whigs, finding their sacramental idea—money—in danger, have come to the rescue with fire-brands and the like weapons. . . . I like much of his article, though his property notions agree not with my view.”40 Ralph Waldo Emerson also appreciated its radical nature, writing to Margaret Fuller, “the hero wields a sturdy pen which I am very glad to see. I had judged him from some old things & did not know that he was such a Cobbett of a scribe. Let him wash himself & write for the immortal Dial.”41 38. Works, V, 99, 103. In 1857, Brownson repudiated his 1840 denial of a visible and authoritative church, the priesthood, and the Protestant principles that supported them. Those were some of the “horrible doctrines.” He also rejected his attempts to identify democracy and Christianity, his calls for a new church, and his reliance on the state as the exclusive agent for the Christian reform of society. Brownson’s 1840 essay was a wake-up call, “and I think my convalescence dates from that moment.” See Works, V, 104. As a Catholic, however, he continued to support the working class against those whose vested interests and power were able to influence legislation unfavorable to labor. In his post-Civil War publication of The American Republic (1865), for example, he wrote: “The men of wealth, the businessmen, manufacturers and merchants, bankers and brokers, are the men who exert the worst influence on government in every country, for they always strive to use it as an instrument of advancing their own private interests. They act on the beautiful maxim, ‘Let the government take care of the rich, and the rich will take care of the poor,’ instead of the far safer maxim, ‘Let government take care of the weak, the strong can take care of themselves.’ Universal suffrage is better than restricted suffrage, but even universal suffrage is too weak to prevent private property from having undue political influence.” See Works XVIII, 195. By 1869, moreover, Brownson complained that labor had not its share of the joint profits of capital and labor and that its share was growing relatively less. See “The Problems of Capital and Labor,” New York Tablet, March 13, 1869, p. 8. Democracies, he continued, were no better than monarchies and aristocracies in prohibiting the concentration of wealth in the hands of the few or in distributing more equitably the goods of production. In the United States, moreover, protectionist economists held to the “specious doctrine,” “Let government protect the rich and the rich will protect the poor,” a saying a malicious person might render: “take care of the wolves and the wolves will take care of the sheep.” See, “The Relations of Capital and Labor, No. II,” New York Tablet, May 1, 1869, p. 9. 39. For examples of support, see the New York Evening Post, July 17, 1840; August 8, 1840; October 2, 7, 1840; Boston Post, July 7, 28, 1840; September 30, 1840; October 6, 12, 22, 23, 31, 1840; Bay State Democrat, July 25, 28, 1840. See also Schlesinger Jr., Age of Jackson, 303-04. 40. The Collected Works of Theodore Parker, ed. Frances Cobbe, 14 vols. (London, 1863– 74), VIII, 31. 41. December 21, 1840, in The Letters of Ralph Waldo Emerson, ed. Ralph L. Rusk, 6 vols. (New York, 1939), II, 373. PATRICK W. CAREY 601 Brownson was aware of the criticisms and spent much of the next year and a half defending himself in published essays and public lectures around the state and in Philadelphia and New York City. The most extensive defense, more than twice as long as the original article, was “Laboring Classes—Responsibility to Party, etc.,” published in October during the last days of the campaign.42 Brownson backed down from nothing he asserted in the original essay; in fact, he presented more support for his positions. He tackled five major objections that had been leveled against his position: (1) that the essay was poorly timed, coming in the midst of a serious political campaign; he had a responsibility to the party to withhold such radical notions; (2) that it called for the abolition of Christianity; (3) that it eliminated worship and religious instruction as well as the priesthood; (4) that it exaggerated or falsified the conditions of the working class; and (5) that its proposal on inheritance would topple the natural right to property and break up family relations. Brownson responded to each of these accusations with denials that added not much new to his original essay. He disclaimed any responsibility to the Democratic Party when the truth was at stake.43 He did not call for the abolition of Christianity, moreover, but the abolition of the current outward, visible church.44 The state, if Christianized, could serve the function of an organized church. He went on to say that he believed in the establishment of Christ’s kingdom on earth but that kingdom was not an outward, visible church distinct or separated from the body politic, civil society, or the state. In a genuine Christianity, no split existed between church and state, between the spiritual and the material interests of humanity. Christianity and the kingdom of God on earth did not need a double organization; humanity needed only the single organization of the state, where the church and state would be identified in one institution. His aim, he reiterated, was to Christianize democracy, which was nothing other than the application of the “principles of the gospel to man’s social and political relations.”45 Such theological idealism carried him well beyond his 1836 proposals for a new church of the future.46 42. Orestes Brownson, “Laboring Classes—Responsibility to Party, etc.” BQR, 3, no. 4 (1840), 420–512. 43. Ibid., 421–28. 44. Ibid., 428–36. 45. Ibid., 429. 46. For his earlier position, see Orestes Brownson, New Views of Christianity, Society, and the Church (Boston, 1836) in Carey, Early Works, III, 17–19, 109–63. 602 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” Brownson admitted that he did indeed advocate the abolition of the priesthood as an organized caste in society, but he did not, as some asserted, dispense with the need for religious instruction or religious worship.47 His defense of his proposal to destroy the priesthood rubbed salt on the wounds he had already opened in “Laboring Classes.” His defense was a devastating critique, a real Jeremiad, on the ministry in all the churches. All Protestants would agree, he maintained, that there was no need for a priestly mediator between God and humanity. What most upset the clerical establishment, he noted, was his lamentation on the state of a hired and authoritative ministry. He took the “risk of being crucified between two thieves” on this score.48 He was not against teachers of religion or preachers of the gospel, but against a corporate priesthood that had made of ministry “a separate profession” or “a sort of trade.”49 The New Testament provided no grounds for such hirelings. All Christians with the gospel in their hearts had the authority to preach and teach. Brownson called for a universal priesthood of the soul. Instead of this, the churches had produced ministerial mercenaries, those who had been bought off by the capitalist captains of industry. The hired ministry, too, was not just a matter of individual, personal greed; the ministerial corporation had its roots in the whole voluntary system of pastoral support. He who holds the purse holds the pastor, making the pastor subservient to the needs and economic interests of the established class. Thus, the ministry, as currently constituted, could not in fact preach against the prevailing evils in the society in which they lived, or they would lose their jobs. Such a system imprisoned the word of God. Much better was the whole Quaker religious system, because it had no organized clergy and relied solely on the light within, and only the enlightened preached and taught. The Quaker system was truly religious as well as democratic. That was the Christian system he now preferred. Brownson dismissed the fourth objection that he falsified the conditions of the laboring classes. The source of that objection was the bourgeois mind.50 He protested that he did not prefer the slave system over free labor, as some charged. Such a charge was the “devise of the Devil”51 and intended to draw attention away from the culprits who profited from the wage system and made their own wealth on the backs of the proletariat. Those under the free labor system were better off than the slaves with 47. Brownson, “Laboring Classes—Responsibility to Party, etc.,” 436–60. 48. Ibid., 440. 49. Ibid., 441. 50. Ibid., 460–72. 51. Ibid., 467. PATRICK W. CAREY 603 respect to human dignity, legal freedoms, and the franchise, but with respect to actual freedom and access to the goods of creation, which God had given to all equally, they were imprisoned in the new economic slavery. Like Michael Harrington’s The Other America (1962), Brownson’s essay reminded his own generation of the debilitating effects of the economic system on the poor and the class of the “proletaries,” people with whom he identified more than any other class in American society. To the last objection on inheritance, the longest section by far of his defense, he responded by saying that the separation of the capitalist from the laborer was the “great evil of all modern society” because it created a new class that was based exclusively on wealth.52 The new capitalist system produced a state of privilege in modern society that had to be nipped in the bud, or there would indeed be a revolutionary war between labor and capital. The capitalists and the industrialists were the new nobility, and they destroyed the democratic promise of American society as much as the landed nobles had tried to prevent it from emerging. His own proposal to eliminate inheritance was consistent with the élan of American society and with the Democratic Party’s definition of itself as the party of “equality against privilege.” Political reformers who called for free trade and universal suffrage and moral reformers who called for universal education and religious culture left intact the real problem of the identification of property and power in American society. His own proposal got to the heart of the problem of unequal distribution of power and wealth in modern social relations. He did not deny the fact that the right to property was a natural right, but the extent of that right, he insisted, citing a host of legal experts, came under civil legislation, which could legitimately abolish laws on the descent of property. In defense of his position, unlike his original essay, he made a few practical suggestions on how the state could eliminate inheritance and make necessary provisions for a just and equitable distribution of accumulated property after death without injuring the lives of the widows and children of the deceased. The whole intent of the elimination of inheritance was to prevent the perpetuation of a wealth caste in American society that would eventually destroy equal opportunity. “Laboring Classes” and Brownson’s multiple defenses of it were long on criticism and short on construction; they were more valuable as a critique of the failings of American religious, political, social, and economic life than as a concrete plan for new directions in society. But his critique is 52. Ibid., 472–512, quote on 472. 604 BROWNSON, POLITICS, AND “THE LABORING CLASSES” still a classic in the sense that it not only represented the working-class complaints of the time in which it was written but reflected transcendental judgments on American society that have recurred from time to time in American history. If it is such a classic, why has it not been included in important anthologies? Perry Miller, the great historian of Puritanism and American intellectual life, argued in one of the first anthologies of Transcendentalism (one which included more of Brownson’s writings than those of any other Transcendentalist) that most Protestant intellectuals in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries had deliberately abandoned Brownson once he converted to Catholicism.53 He was ostracized from American intellectual life. There is undoubtedly some truth in that argument, but this paper suggests that Brownson’s socially-oriented Transcendentalism and his siding with the working-class irritated Transcendentalists as well as academics in general. What later academics found worth preserving in Transcendentalism was the emphasis on self-culture and freedom more than Brownson’s emphasis on equality and his understanding of the socially-conditioned nature of all freedom. Brownson, moreover, saw things in American society from the perspective of its underside. Most Transcendentalists and intellectuals saw it from the upper side of privilege. Brownson, furthermore, represented a view of freedom, equality, and fraternity that was more influenced by the French social tradition than by the emerging individualism of early American industrialist capitalism and democracy. Those American intellectuals who have created the anthologies, this author submits, select their inclusions based on an individualistic, not a social, view of freedom. Brownson does not fit into that side of American intellectual life. But he embodies a side that needs representation. He should be included because he illustrated not only the struggles, sentiments, and aspirations of working-class Americans in the early nineteenth century but also an American social philosophy, influenced by religion, that countered an emerging individualism in American society. He belongs to an American intellectual tradition (of Horace Bushnell, the Protestant Social Gospel, and Josiah Royce—to name a few) that focuses on the social dimensions of human life, politics, and religion. That tradition, too, emphasizes the social condition of freedom and justice—a side of American intellectual life that needs more attention than it has received in American society. 53. Perry Miller, ed., The Transcendentalists: An Anthology (Cambridge, 1950), 45. Forum Review Essay Erin Kathleen Rowe, Black Saints in Early Modern Global Catholicism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019. Pp. xxii, 293. $49.99 (cloth), ISBN: 978-1-108-42121-8; Online ISBN: 9781108367578. INTRODUCTION L i a m M a t t h e w B r o c k e y (Michigan State University) Erin Rowe’s study examines one of the central paradoxes of early modern Catholic culture as lived religion, namely devotions to Black (African, Afro-Portuguese, or Afro-Latino) men and women within societies where blackness was associated with enslavement or low status. By retracing the circulation of images and traditions of Black sanctity among European, African, and mixed-race Catholics on either side of the Atlantic, she demonstrates these devotions’ global scale and the varied responses that they produced. Rowe approaches her topic from several angles, considering how the cults of a handful of male and female saints was propagated in Europe and the Iberian Atlantic over the span of two hundred years. Not only does she examine historical accounts of popular piety, but she includes artistic representations and hagiographical treatments to give a richly textured overview of how notions of blackness and servitude were understood in religious terms by early modern Catholics. Black Saints begins with a discussion of the medieval antecedents to the phenomena which lie at the book’s heart. Rowe analyzes the figure of Baltazar, the Black magus, as well as medieval notions of Ethiopia which recognized ancient Christian traditions in Sub-Saharan Africa. The two figures of Elesban and Efigenia, both identified as Ethiopian royalty, would emerge as foci of later devotions which stressed their elite pedigrees, as well as their African origins. After the Middle Ages, the predominant exemplars of Black sanctity were two friars: Antonio da Noto and Benedict of Palermo, both of whom lived in the late sixteenth century. Rowe stresses the fact that the devotions to these friars began in Sicily, and only gradually spread to Iberia and then across the Atlantic through Franciscan channels. The themes of unceasing service and humility which the two men evinced during their lives proved to be ideal motifs for Franciscan preachers in the 605 606 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY seventeenth century, while the saints’ blackness offered focal point for new confraternal devotions which helped expand the order’s spiritual clienteles. As the slave-based economy of the Atlantic World grew in the late sixteenth century and ever-greater numbers of Africans were forcibly relocated to Europe and the Americas within the spiritual jurisdiction of the Roman Church, forms of piety particular to Black men and women emerged, especially in urban settings. Groups of enslaved and free Blacks formed confraternities for mutual aid (both physical and spiritual) in the cities and larger towns of the Iberian Atlantic, many of which adopted Black saints as copatrons. Rowe’s examination of these groups reveals that the same rivalries for precedence that marked public devotional displays were exacerbated by the social status and racial identity of Black confraternities, but also shows that over time White members joined Black brotherhoods in Europe and assumed leadership roles in them. In the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, Black confraternities expanded rapidly as a major form of public piety with altars in major churches and sometimes free-standing chapels. Rowe pays specific attention to the representations of Black saints in the heart of her book, considering sculpture, painting, and textual accounts. These analyses focus on the idea of blackness and how early modern authors sought to transform the color’s negative connotations into positive ones. Black Saints shows how the presentation of Elesban, Efigenia, and Benedict of Palermo in sculpture did not avoid a sensitivity to gradations of skin tone, nor to the visual richness that necessarily accompanied depictions of sanctity. In other words, Rowe’s Black saints—whether of ancient royal lineage or dressed in the habits of religious orders—were saints, regardless of their skin color, a factor which contributed their eventual disappearance from the conscious association with blackness in the eyes of several of her interviewees in 21st century Spain and Portugal. The same effacement can be detected in the hagiographic texts that Rowe analyzes, which were primarily produced during the Golden Age of Baroque chronicling in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. She reveals that the insistence on models of male and female piety commonly employed to describe early modern saints had the effect of diminishing the uniqueness of Black saints, to the point that even the association with slavery became uncoupled from the degrading experiences of the actual slave saints and served as an ideal of Christian humility. As a counterpoint to the whitewashing of a Black sanctity by hagiographers at the dawn of the modern age, Black Saints closes with a discussion of the lived piety of enslaved women known for their holiness, examining the forms in which hagiographers presented their lives and devotional FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 607 practices, as well as the case of Úrsula de Jesús, an Afro-Peruvian Franciscan tertiary who wrote a spiritual diary filled with references to her social and physical status, as well as her individual experience of Catholic piety. REVIEWS K a r i n V é l e z (Macalester College) It seems odd to compliment a book about saints for uncovering the humanity of its subjects, but this is the triumph of Erin Rowe’s history. Saints are an exalted few intended to be models to strain towards but rarely attain. Black saints—indeed, Black Catholics—seem still further removed from the realm of the possible because of the hellish drag and interference of early modern slavery. How could a Christian God often used to perpetuate slavery reach blacks targeted as slaves? Yet here are black Catholics in droves, well researched and very real in Rowe’s deft hands. In our current moment, we are primed to elevate those who creatively resist structural inequity and institutional conformity, or what Rowe calls “normative Christianity” (91): in 2021, rebels are our (secular) saints. Rowe does include such individuals: black confraternity members who raised money to manumit enslaved fellow members (99), took on legal proceedings to defend their rights to precedence in public Holy Week processions in Sevilla (108–12), and even a group called before the Inquisition in Mexico City for dressing as priests and calling themselves “Iphigenias” after that Ethiopian saint (93). But the titular black saints are harder for us to comprehend, in part because some of their virtues—such as superhuman humility—could be and were distorted to enforce “obedience and submission” as the “‘proper’ behavior of enslaved people” (211). From where we stand, it is difficult not to read these saintly behaviors as complicity. But Rowe’s painstaking research has dredged up details for some saints that make it impossible for us to so reduce them. For instance, she describes a nun chastising the seventeenth-century Afro-Peruvian “living saint,” Estefania, for wearing a torn and patched habit. Estefania responded, “It would be pleasing to God if I were so despicable that men threw stones at me in the streets. . . .” Rowe aligns Estefania’s superficially self-demeaning comment to a moment when an earlier black saint, sixteenth-century Sicilian Franciscan friar Benedict of Palermo, actually flipped over the egg cart of an admirer in the street “so she would despise him.” (221) She categorizes these strange outbursts as examples of the “spiritual practice of abasement” (220), ways in which these “formidable 608 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY personalities” performed humility “whether deeply felt or not” (221). Rowe’s interpretation cleaves closely to the hagiographical mindset that saved but filtered those moments for us. Reconsider, however, these moments Rowe has uncovered for us. Why would Benedict overturn a cart in the street? Why would Estefania lash out at dress code? There is rage and temper here reminiscent of another early modern saint, Ignatius of Loyola, whose life includes incidents that his hagiographers were hard-pressed to clean up—as when, but for the grace of God and a donkey, he nearly followed a Muslim who had mocked the Virgin Mary to avenge physically the insult. For (white) Ignatius, later interpreters have stressed this is a humanizing moment. Benedict and Estefania should be afforded the same human leeway; in fact, in their outbursts, they finally seem accessible. Rowe wisely observes that hagiography “is not a genre that calls for social change” (192), yet she wrings many instances from hagiographies that surprise—including how white, male, clerical authors repeatedly recorded moments of injustice and cruelty among nuns and friars within convents and brotherhoods, with corrective intent (e.g., 181, 184–5, 191). Here is another wonder: for black saints as well as white ones, in spite of all the blind spots of hagiographers, details intrude in their hyper-conventionalized life stories in ways that show them human. Rowe also endeavors to humanize white Catholics, though this requires different mental acrobatics. As one must sadly expect from those clinging to power, many white Catholics appear in Rowe’s work in predictable ways: willfully “misremembering” or displaying “amnesia” around black saints (2, 236-37); exhibiting “white backlash,” or outright hostility towards successful black confraternities in particular (87, 105–116); appropriating the rhetoric of slavery to apply to whites (116–20); and “sever[ing] the tie between black saints and the promise of spiritual equality that they embodied” so that they could approach black saints as if they “had nothing to do with the actual enslaved bodies who lived among them” (123). But Rowe also shows us some white Catholics who functioned outside that generalization, whose stretching consciously allowed for revolutionary inflections of black holiness. She mentions a white priest from Sevilla, Juan de Santiago, who stood against a majority of white sevillano witnesses to give public testimony in support of a black confraternity that was being vilified by a white confraternity (109–10), and Bernardo de Medina from Lima who vehemently argued, in his account of the life of Martin Porres, that “the color of a person’s skin was irrelevant to God” (180). She also oft quotes the Spanish Jesuit Alonso de Sandoval, who may have fallen short FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 609 of being “anti-slavery” (184) but whose personal experiences ministering to slaves spilled into his writing, where Rowe finds such palpable desperation to convince his readers of the spiritual equality of black Catholics that he “crammed as many words associated with light as one sentence could contain” in his description of black saint Antonio da Noto (201). It is a credit to Rowe that in her quest for saints, she has mustered so many snatches of lived black, white, and mixed Catholic experiences that we must reckon with our common humanity more than with abstracted virtues. Rowe’s work is a crucial first step towards normalizing the presence of blacks as humans within Christianity, not as objects used and abused, not as extreme figures out of reach and symbolic, but as real agents with the power to kick over carts and redefine the whole. L i s a V o i g t (Ohio State University) Erin Rowe’s Black Saints in Early Modern Global Catholicism makes visible, as she says in the introduction, “a past that is both shrouded and in plain sight” (2): the existence of and devotion to holy Black women and men in early modern Catholic communities. Not only does Rowe bring this past to light through meticulous research and analysis, but through lavish illustrations—including nearly 80 full color plates—she brings Black saints (especially St. Benedict of Palermo, but also St. Antonio da Noto, St. Esleban, and St. Efigenia) quite literally before the eyes of readers. The images are a visually striking feature of Black Saints, but they also attest to two of its methodological innovations that, in realizing the book’s “global” ambitions, invite the following comments, questions, and—hopefully— emulation. First, it bears noting that most of these illustrations are not photographs of objects in museums and collections, but rather were taken in situ—in churches throughout Spain and Portugal—many of them by the author’s father who accompanied her on her research trips, as Rowe explains in the Acknowledgments. The photographs, in other words, attest not only to the ongoing presence of Black saints in Catholic churches but also to the importance of local, onsite research to investigate cultural phenomena of global dimensions. The availability of historical images and texts from across the globe on our own desktops via the World Wide Web does not obviate the need for such research. Certainly, the existence of searchable online databases has been an invaluable tool during the COVID-19 pandemic, which has made research travel not just costly and prohibitive but risky and, sometimes, prohibited. But Black Saints is a 610 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY reminder of what is lost or missing from global research conducted primarily online, which Lara Putnam warned of some years ago in “The Transnational and the Text-Searchable: Digitized Sources and the Shadows They Cast” (AHR 121.2, April 2016, 377–402, https://doi.org/10.1093/ahr/ 121.2.377). One obvious limitation of online vs. onsite research is that many extant databases are centered in and around the global North and Anglophone world, which further renders invisible subjects and objects like those Rowe studies. Another is, as Putnam pointed out, the loss of multidimensional and experiential awareness of the places under study and the local expertise that can be found there. For Rowe, such knowledge was essential for not only locating the Black saints, as she points out in the Acknowledgements and Introduction, but also for understanding their changing roles and reception in their communities. The latter is particularly evident in cases where locals did not recognize the saints’ black skin color or explained it in other ways. In the Afterword, Rowe suggests that such responses “[tell] us something significant about contemporary ideas about blackness” and “[open] up many questions about what contemporary Iberians see” (237), but more specifics would have been welcome. Do such changing perceptions reinforce how anti-black racism has ultimately prevailed over the more ambiguous meanings attributed to blackness, and the possibility of Black sanctity, that Rowe finds in the early modern period—and if so, how can learning about earlier understandings help us interpret and address presentday realities? The racial justice protests that erupted in 2020, just after this book was published, make those questions all the more urgent. Second and finally, in her onsite research Rowe followed the trajectories of the Black saints and holy women she studies. A specialist in early modern Spain, Rowe pursued the material and textual evidence for Black sanctity across the Atlantic and especially across the border into Portugal. Such forays into new linguistic and geographic areas require flexibility and fortitude, but the rewards are made plain in this groundbreaking volume. Following the global paths traced by Black saints makes visible, indeed, what has long been shrouded by not only anti-black racism but scholarly borders and disciplinary divisions. G i o v a n n a F i u m e (University of Palermo, retired) The foremost worth of the book lies in conveying the subject of black sanctity, both male and female saints, by mapping their images. Beginning from widespread diffusion of the cult and devotion to Benedict of Palermo, FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 611 the author traces its spread in the “global Atlantic,” that enormous geographical space of the Iberian empire. The construction of a model of black sanctity coincided with the flow of African slaves. The book underlines how the white clergy hagiographers contradicted themselves, not questioning the slave trade while simultaneously promoting black slaves as champions of the faith for not only black but also white people. In searching for images, Rowe travelled from Andalusia to Galicia, from Portugal to Lima to Rome; she did not, however, include any images from Palermo, barring the two included in the hagiography by Pietro Tognoletto (Palermo, 1667). It is an incomprehensible choice, given that in the friary of Saint Mary of Gesù you can see: (1) the incorrupt body of Benedict, beside the statue of the Virgin with Baby, whom Benedict is receiving in his arms, as seen in the frontispiece of Tognoletto and in other images; (2) the cell in the friary with a portrait of Benedict with cowl and aureole; (3) the wooden coffin where the body was placed in 1592, with a small bust similar to his “true effigy”; (4) the fresco where, in the company of two angels, he is cooking a meal of flowers for his brothers (another famous iconographic theme); (5) a 1700 portrait with a white lily; (6) a painting of the miracle, performed by St. Benedict, of a dead man resurrected; (7) a bas-relief of St. Benedict with other friars in the odor of sanctity, in the eighteenth century exhedra, which is at the beginning of the path to the small chapel where he planted his staff, from which, according to hagiographers, a tree sprouted; (8) in the vestibule of the friary of Saint Mary of the Angels, Palermo, the family tree of the “Franciscan family” showing Benedict in the third branch, top right; and (9) in the Church of Badia Nuova, a large painting (426 × 261 cm) by Pietro Novelli (1641–42) portraying Francis handing his girdle to Louis of France—to the right, Benedict, kneeling, is holding a lit torch, symbolizing Franciscan spirituality, and behind him is Antony of Noto, “the Ethiopian.” This rich iconography was excluded from the careful list produced by Rowe. There is a second observation: without a thorough knowledge of religious history it may be difficult to understand what one is seeing. The author superficially describes the engraving in the book by Tognoletto, in which some monks are watering or planting trees, under the gaze of Jesus, Mary and Francis, as a representation of the “enduring cultivation of holiness of the Franciscan order, particularly in Sicily” (160). To be precise, the image shows a complex page of Franciscan history: the progress of the reform of the Observance in Sicily. After the separation in 1517 between the Conventuals and Observants, many groups, diverse in rituals, rules, clothes and conception of poverty, were incorporated under the name of 612 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY Observance. Thus, in 1533, the “planting” in Sicily of a “seraphic paradise” was initiated, and the convent of Piazza was entrusted to Simon of Calascibetta; in 1567, Paul of Palazzolo and Bonaventure of Agrigento implemented the reform in two friaries in Agrigento, two in Piazza, one in Nicosia and one in Saint Mary of Gesù in Palermo. The image shows the work of the reformers, who are all present in the engraving. In 1562, the Pope dissolved the group of hermits to which Benedict belonged, who then entered the friary in Palermo, planting the “tree” of reform—pictured in fact without branches, leaves and fruit, while the other “trees” are in full bloom (the friaries where the reform had been implanted first). “The images . . . reveal histories that cannot otherwise be seen” (8), but they are amongst the most complex sources to decodify, as they are culturally pregnant and closely tied to the context. Thus, while Benedict represents the triumph of the Third Order in Catholic Europe and the role of lay people in the spread of Franciscan spirituality, in Ibero-America he represents the capacity of Franciscan “global missionaries” to evangelize the African slaves. In the former case, the slavery of Benedict providentially provided the conditions to develop his virtues (humility, obedience, endurance) which rendered him a mystic dedicated to prayer; his devotees were white and belonged as much to the élite as to the common people (in 1652 he was named patron saint of Palermo). In the latter case, a “dancer, partier, and suitor” (bailador, parrandero y enamorado) saint, as his Hispanic-Atlantic followers called him, attracted devotees above all amongst those of African descent. A third observation: while “the veneration of black saints . . . was an act of creativity that resisted white hegemony, transformed the Church, and refuses to remain unseen” (11), it is the innovation introduced “from below,” rather than the images fostered by the clergy, that should be examined. In the processions organized by the confraternity, drum music played a decisive role, rum was distributed to the carriers of the religious floats, Andean devotees painted their faces black, and statues bore coloured cloaks and extravagant hats, and even held rifles in their arms. While Portugal was particularly involved in the spread of the cult, it is into Brazil—“which saw the highest concentrations of black confraternities of anywhere in the Iberian world” (96)—that one should delve, not Lima (and why did the author choose Lima in any case?). Benedict, Antony, Efigenia, Elesban, the sisters Teresa Juliana, Magdalena, Juana Esperancia, Ursula, and so forth, show the diverse features of slave conditions, the complexity of their relationships, and the convents as FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 613 a strategy for social integration. As Rowe writes, the Afro-Iberians promoted global Catholicism through the cults of black saints, considered as public acts of inclusion; while the “saints acted as intermediaries between heaven and earth”, the black saints mediated “between Afro-Iberians and colonial society” (93). The biographies of the saints are better known from the processes of canonization than from hagiographies: deep echoes of the cultures to which they belong can be found in these biographies, today often considered by the Afro-descendent community as identifying elements and instruments of political struggle. RESPONSE E r i n K a t h l e e n R o w e (The Johns Hopkins University) I would like to begin by expressing my gratitude to the scholars— Liam Brockey, Lisa Voigt, Karin Vélez, and Giovanna Fiume—who have taken the time to read my book carefully and thoughtfully, and to the Catholic Historical Review and Nelson H. Minnich in particular for making this discussion possible. Brockey’s introduction provides a comprehensive overview of the book and the movement of its chapters over time and space, which serves as an excellent frame for the subsequent reviews. The three reviewers make important points, and one recurring theme centers on various aspects of the project’s methodology. Their comments serve as a fruitful way of engaging more deeply into the methodological orientations, insights, and limits of Black Saints. Voigt addresses the crucial issue of how scholarly borders and disciplinary divisions can limit our ability to understand expansive historical phenomena. As she points out, one of the main goals of Black Saints was to provide precisely that—a large-scale study of global Catholicism, and how certain elements of spiritual practice and devotion circulated along Spanish and Portuguese Catholic networks. When I began Black Saints nearly a decade ago, scholarship on early modern Catholicism as a world or global phenomenon was just taking off, and cults to Black saints as a major devotional innovation had not been viewed as part of a global impulse. Investigating a subject in ways that push beyond borders and disciplinary divisions requires distinct methodological approaches. For example, the sections of the book on confraternities utilized a synthetic analysis of extant scholarship, buttressed by archival research. Such an approach provided the geographic depth that the project 614 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY demanded, while also providing me the opportunity to highlight the important scholarship that has already generated rich insight on how such organizations and devotional cults operated on a local level. Brazilian scholars in particular have been working on Black confraternities since the 1960s and 70s. As Voigt further notes, global, world, or transnational histories “require flexibility and fortitude.” This project was massive at its inception; I realized quickly that I would be unable to cover all the ground that I wished. Even the relatively modest desire to create a comprehensive visual archive of images of Black saints in Spain and Portugal was stymied by lack of access, resources, and time. Beginning the process both of delving more deeply into art history and my first research in Portuguese were intimidating prospects. In the end, however, I decided that the potential revelations of my efforts would be worth the anxiety of failure and the additional effort required. The visual archive of sculpture and paintings of Black saints extant in Spain and Portugal that I painstakingly gathered for the book revealed largely unseen and unstudied works. Presenting this archive to readers provided new ways of “seeing” Iberia’s Black history both past and present, which provides a significant corrective to national historiographies that have often sought to erase their Black history. At the same time, such decisions placed other types of limitations on the project. A global approach militates against more granular, local analysis, as well as limiting topics for analysis that might appear arbitrary or unsatisfying (as we see in Fiume’s remarks about the absence of Sicilian images of St. Benedict in the book). The book was never intended to be “complete” because I knew that attempting a fully comprehensive analysis of this vast phenomenon would be impossible, and that the pursuit of it would be disastrous to the coherence of the project. One crucial element in the book that merits greater analysis is excavation of the deep and granular accounts of Black festivals throughout the Black Atlantic. We can see such stories in the recent important volume edited by Cécile Fromont, Afro-Catholic Festivals in the Americas: Performance, Representation, and the Making of the Black Atlantic (2019), which includes essays by such established and emerging scholars of Black spiritual practices, festivals, dance, and culture as Miguel Valerio, Cécile Fromont, Junia Ferreira Furtado, Dianne Stuart, and Lisa Voigt herself. Such studies are crucial for thinking more deeply about the relationship between Black Catholic practice and African religion and culture. While my book engages with the elements of musical and dance performances during Black festivals, in order to do such stories full justice, they require careful and FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 615 detailed archival work (and working through archival silences). For another example of exciting new research on Black confraternities and Black spiritual practices, see the work of Ximena Gómez on seventeenth-century Lima. I like to think of Black Saints as in conversation with the essays that appear in Afro-Catholic Festivals and scholarship like Gómez’s, though what benefit my book might be to the future work of such scholars is not for me to assert. Fiume addresses several issues related to these questions regarding methodological choices, as noted above. Because I am a specialist in early modern Spain, the earliest iteration of the project began there, although as the project evolved, the limitations of this decision became untenable. At the same time, however, the incredible reach of Black Catholicism throughout colonial Latin America proved too diverse—there are hundreds if not thousands of images of Black saints throughout Latin America, with high concentrations in Brazil, as Fiume rightly notes. A detailed study of images of Black saints in Brazil would be a breathtakingly fantastic project—which I hope to engage with in the future—but it was too vast for this study. Moreover, if I had had an additional several weeks to engage in travel-based research, I would also have spent time in the Azores, Cape Verde, São Tome, and Luanda, as crucially important to global Catholicism and Black Atlantic spiritual practices. Instead, by building on the historiographies on such places, I was able to analyze the circulations of devotions to Black saints to a more profound and large-scale extent. On the question of geographic choices, Fiume wonders why I chose Lima as a case study over Brazil. Because trying to encompass all of Latin America in the book was infeasible, I decided to choose one case study to focus on. One case study permitted a deep dive of the kind that would not be possible in multiple sites in Latin America. Nevertheless, the book does cast a wide net of case studies from within colonial Latin America through a mixture of printed primary and secondary scholarship as well as, in the case of Brazil, archival material available in Portugal and/or digitized. When thinking about which place to choose for the more concentrated case study, I looked most closely at Puebla (Mexico), Lima (Peru), and Bahia (Brazil). Devotion to Benedict of Palermo appeared in the first decade of the seventeenth century in both Lima and Puebla, Mexico, and I was particularly interested in those early phases of devotional spread, while evidence suggests that devotion of Black saints took root a little later in Brazil. Lima stood out particularly, as it was the locus of incredible spiritual energy in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, home to the first officially recognized saint of the Americas (Rose of Lima), and of the first Black saint of the Americas, Martín de Porres. Martín de Porres, 616 FORUM REVIEW ESSAY moreover, was a contemporary of Ursula de Jesús, whose work would be a vital case study for my book. Another query posed by Fiume centered on the choice of hagiography as a source as opposed to early canonization testimonies. Canonization records do provide rich information about the earliest stages of devotions, what contemporaries thought of the individual, and aspects of what we might refer to as the saint’s personality. There has been excellent research on reconstructing saints’ lives, their impact on the community, and the experience of the lives and beliefs of enslaved and free Black populations. We can see this in such examples in Celia Cussen’s work on Martín de Porres and Ronald Morgan’s analysis of the testimonies by Black interpreters in the records for Pedro Claver’s canonization in Cartagena. While I looked extensively at canonization records for Benedict of Palermo, Antonio de Noto, and Martín de Porres, I chose to focus on hagiography because print culture and circulation animated the claims of the book, and hagiographies were often dispersed widely along with martyrologies, liturgy, and the chronicles of religious orders. Hagiography is a complicated source base, with its static and repetitive nature that can flatten their subjects; moreover, examining many over a long period of time loses some of the local context for their production. Yet Vélez, in contrast to Fiume, notes the possibilities of reading hagiography against the grain in order to glean the humanity of individuals often abstracted as objects, whether enslaved or saintly. The small moments that Vélez points out of Benedict and the egg cart and Estefanía with her torn habit permit us a deeper look into the spiritual views of the subjects, however mediated, not merely the agenda of the hagiographer. Attention to the humanity of Black holy people is central to the project. While great attention was shown to the complexity of clerical thought on race and spirituality, my goal was to prevent White ideas about sanctity from overwhelming the lived realities of Black Catholics and their creativity. Another important text discussed in the book is the spiritual diary dictated by Ursula de Jesús, as it represents perhaps the oldest known account by a Black author in a European language. Ursula was ordered to dictate the diary because her confessor wanted to keep track of her visions, for which she was famous. The respect of her confessor and many of the nuns in her convent give us a powerful view of Black Catholic practice situated within a normative Catholic framework, even while such practices did not conform to European devotional expectations. As a result, Ursula’s diary reveals much about how the non-normative practices of a Black FORUM REVIEW ESSAY 617 woman could be viewed in line with normative Catholicism. The idea that there remained one (Eurocentric) way of being a devout Christian within early modern Catholicism was a myth that my book sought to dispel. The relationship between past and present remained glancing in the book—as Voigt points out, the conclusion does little more than gesture at the contemporary significance of the history of Black saints on the experience of anti-Black racism today. She poses a vital question about the eventual dominance of anti-Black racism over more ambiguous meanings of blackness that we see in the early modern period. One of the main opportunities of Black Saints is to contribute to present-day conversations about Black history in ways that center Black lives and emphasize the rich and complex history of the Black diaspora. Part of the long history of antiBlack racism in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries required the creation of myths about the absence of culture and intellectual potential of Black people, to erase their history and contributions, a process that began with the beginning of the transatlantic slave trade and only gained strength over time. Careful excavations of Black cultural, intellectual, and social practices serve to correct such pernicious and devastating myths, while forcing many White Americans and Europeans to recognize the vitality of Black history and its contributions past and present. Book Reviews MEDIEVAL The Saint and the Saga Hero. Hagiography and Early Icelandic Literature. By Siân E. Grønlie. (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer. 2017. Pp. xi, 306. $130.00. ISBN 978 84384 481 5.) Siân E. Grønlie comments in the volume under review that “the saints were not just literary characters to the medieval Icelanders, but a powerful and active presence in their lives” (p. ix). This basic fact is often ignored by scholars of medieval Icelandic literature and culture. While a token nod may be made to the fact that the thirteenth-century saga authors were Christian (indeed as is now repeatedly suggested, they may have been associated with monasteries), the significance of that fact is often overlooked. Those who study the secular sagas have all too often neglected to read the translated passiones and vitae of the saints. This in spite of the fact that, as Stefán Karlsson pointed out two decades ago, over one-third of the surviving medieval Icelandic manuscripts contain saints’ lives. This is twice as many as the next most frequent category (kings’ sagas) and three times as many as the two next most popular groups, sagas of Icelanders and chivalric romances.1 The present volume provides a much-needed corrective to this neglect. Dr. Grønlie is thoroughly familiar not only with native saga genres, but also with translated religious literature that would have been available at monasteries, cathedrals, and some churches. That literature included homilies, saints’ lives, patristic writings, liturgical books, and works such as Peter Comestor’s Bible commentary, Vincent of Beauvais’ Historia Scholastica, and Isidore of Seville’s Etymologies. After an introductory chapter on "Saints' Lives and the Sagas of Icelanders," her monograph is far more than a search for parallels such as have been undertaken in the past; she is well aware that the sagas do not blindly adopt the ideology of the saint’s life, and shows how they respond creatively to it. Using polysystem theory, Grønlie examines how hagiography 1. Stefán Karlsson, “From the Margins of Medieval Europe: Icelandic Vernacular Scribal Culture,” in: Frontiers in the Middle Ages: Proceedings of the Third European Congress of Medieval Studies, ed. Outi Merisalo and Päivi Pahta (Louvain-la-Neuve, 2006), 483–92. 618 BOOK REVIEWS 619 and sagas of Icelanders interact with each other, and how different authors imitate, invert, and subvert hagiographic structures and ideals. Her second chapter—about the translation of a Latin work by the monk Oddr Snorrason, known as Oddr’s Saga of Óláfr Tryggvason—is a wonderful illustration of the numerous influences that can be traced in this saga, and how they were used. Well aware of later additions to the Icelandic text, Grønlie discusses the insights the underlying text provides into the community of writers at the monastery at Þingeyrar and Oddr’s practice as a historian (and, perhaps, would-be hagiographer). Like Ari Þorgilsson, Oddr lists his informants, and it is worth noting that three of the six are female. Grønlie discusses not only Oddr’s work but also the poems about Óláfr, both verses contemporary with his life and others by two poets contemporary with Oddr; she concludes that those living in the late twelfth century were working from the same body of material. The following chapters consider sagas that are thematically similar: “The Confessor, the Martyr and the Convert,” “The Noble Heathen and the Missionary Saint,” “The Outlaw, the Exile, and the Desert Saint,” and “The Saint as Friend and Patron.” All provide in-depth readings of passages dealing with particular events, such as the conversion to Christianity, and characters, such as Bishop Friðrekr and Þangbrandr, in works as varied as Kristni saga, Þorvalds þáttr víðförla, Vatnsdæla saga, and Njáls saga. Grønlie is aware that medieval Christianity itself was not uniform (and very different from most modern varieties); she points out that in descriptions of a single episode, the attitude to violence that may be problematized in one saga may be valorized in another. She notes that the heroic violence of the missionaries, and the greater sympathy for the (often quite reluctant) convert, are innovations on the part of saga authors when compared to other missionary accounts. As in any detailed study there are occasional errors, for example, the attribution of Lárentíus saga biskups to Bergr Sokkason instead of Einar Hafliðason. On page 50 the author and protagonist have been reversed: we are told that Óláfr, rather than Oddr, gave the former a conversion experience similar to that of Paul on the way to Damascus (here it should also be noted that the comparison to St. Patrick and St. Augustine of the English is made by Grønlie rather than by Oddr). On page 146 there is confusion regarding the body-parts involved in three examples of a folklore motif best known to Nordicists from the story of Þórr and Örvendill: it is not Þórðr Kárason’s toe, but his finger, that is burned because it extends from under the oxhide in Njáls saga; a toe (not foot) extends from under Guðmundr’s kirtle and is frozen in Guðmundar saga; and the feet of 620 BOOK REVIEWS an avenger (rather than the toe of a thief) are stiff because they stuck out from under a cloak in Jón’s saga. Note 108 on page 188 is partly erroneous. Typos in the Icelandic are found on page 159, where þǫgnuðu should be fǫgnuðu, and page 193, where hefna should be hafna. I personally do not share Hörður Ágústsson’s conviction that a disembodied pair of feet in a set of badly damaged carvings can be identified as those of St. Michael, with or without a pair of scales (p. 138, note 121). To say that heroes such as Hallfreðr and Þormóðr, who are associated with Norwegian saintly kings, “participate in” their sanctity (which would seem to imply that the two Icelanders are to some extent saintly) could have been better expressed by stating that they benefitted from the grace or gæfa of the saint (p. 210). None of the above undercuts the excellence of Grønlie’s perceptive scholarship. The Saint and the Saga Hero should be mandatory reading for anyone interested in the Icelandic sagas. No one, after completing it, will be able to deny that in medieval Icelandic writing, “interaction with the saint’s life should be recognised as a self-conscious literary act: the saga can only define its owns horizons in interaction with other types of narrative prose” (p. 257). College of Charleston (Emerita) MARGARET CORMACK The White Nuns: Cistercian Abbeys for Women in Medieval France. By Constance Hoffman Berman. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2018. Pp. xvi, 345. $89.95. ISBN 9780812250107.) With her excellent The White Nuns, Constance Hoffman Berman completes a trilogy of revisionist books on medieval Cistercians. Medieval Agriculture, the Southern French Countryside, and the Early Cistercians (1986), conclusively demonstrated that the standard account of early Cistercians as rural pioneers who settled in and cleared waste wilderness is a myth; The Cistercian Evolution (2000) showed that the Cistercian Order was not a spontaneous institution fully formed in its first decades but was invented gradually across the twelfth century. Here Berman expands upon her article-length work about Cistercian women going back thirty years. Part I asks, “Were There Cistercian Nuns in Medieval Europe?” The answer, debunking more myths of Cistercian history and historiography and looking across Europe, is a resounding “Yes.” Berman’s examination of official Cistercian statutes and evidence ranging from papal bulls to the nuns’ own records means the burden of proof will hereafter be on scholars whose answers to the question have been “Maybe” or even “No.” Part II, BOOK REVIEWS 621 almost four times as long, tightens the geographical focus. It decisively demonstrates the “economic success” (p. xi) of Cistercian nunneries in the Archdiocese of Sens—which reached from Champagne in the east to the Ile-de-France in the north and as far west as Chartrain in the west and the middle Loire Valley in the south—from the late twelfth to late thirteenth centuries. Berman examines some 3,000 charters, about half of them published, the others housed in fifteen repositories in four countries. In addition, an account book of ca. 1250 from the abbey of Maubuisson is beautifully analyzed. These documents demonstrate that patrons from bourgeois men and women to Blanche of Castile worked patiently and painstakingly, alone and in concert, to build and endow houses for Cistercian nuns. Subsequently, there is a repeated pattern in which, to quote the description of Cour-Notre-Dame, “charters . . . show abbesses acquiring lands at a variety of places and carefully consolidating these acquisitions into larger holdings” (p. 208). Cistercian nuns, then, relied on immense entrepreneurial skills to create agricultural and viticultural conglomerates, amass urban patrimonies, and acquire ownership and rights to mills and the industries they underpinned. The emphasis varied according to locale: houses in Champagne, for example, concentrated on vineyards, whereas Saint-Antoine-des-Champs, just outside the twelfth-century walls of Paris, owned scores of properties in the city. In addition to the general conclusions of Parts I and II that “Cistercian nuns were part of the order, and . . . they were rarely poor or ephemeral” (p. 30), Berman finds “considerable evidence about the activities of the great feudal dominae . . . of the thirteenth century, who were founders, patrons, and even occasionally abbesses of these communities of nuns” and furthermore that the patrons of Cistercian nuns considered these women’s prayers highly effective (p. 223). Part III, “Comparisons and Conclusions,” is comprised of one brief chapter, “Cistercian Nuns and Their Predecessors.” Here Berman juxtaposes thirteenth-century Cistercian nuns to twelfth-century women’s monastic federations, finding a great deal of similarity in both management of properties and recruitment of nuns. In conclusion, Berman notes that all too often, modern historians have taken at face value frequently misogynist medieval accounts of nuns, Cistercian and otherwise. That points to the immense value of this study: it examines thousands of records that show what these women actually did, as opposed to what men said they did (or didn’t do). If you are interested in medieval monasticism, the Cistercian Order, or medieval women in general, please read The White Nuns. This long-awaited book does not disappoint. University of Pittsburgh BRUCE L. VENARDE 622 BOOK REVIEWS The Fourth Lateran Council: Institutional Reform and Spiritual Renewal. Proceedings of the Conference Marking the Eight Hundredth Anniversary of the Council Organized by Pontificio Comitato di Scienze Storiche (Rome, 15–17 October 2015), Edited by Gert Melville and Johannes Helmrath. (Affalterbach: Didymos Verlag. 2017. Pp. 352. €59.00. ISBN: 978-3-939020-84-) This volume, one of several commemorating the 1215 Lateran Council, approaches the topic through five sections—“Foundations, Historical and Historiographical Contexts,” “Doctrine and Ecclesiology,” “Clergy and Laity,” “Heresy, Jews and Crusades,” and “Religious Orders”—with contributions from history, theology, and canon law. The twin foci of the title—institutional reform and spiritual renewal—are represented across these sections, providing two complementary pathways through the contributions. The influence of the University of Paris underpins the theme of spiritual renewal. Johannes Helmrath emphasizes the school’s shaping of Innocent III’s oratory and rhetorical acumen, while Nikolas Jaspert demonstrates how his preaching the crusade in the opening sermon and presenting a relic of the True Cross taken in the Fourth Crusade portrayed Christ and the Holy Land as prisoners of the Muslims. Nicole Bériou and Maria Pia Alberzoni both point to the influence of Peter the Chanter: the former through the focus on fasting, prayers, alms, and pilgrimages as staples of cura animarum in Innocent’s sermon “Desiderio desideravit”; and the latter through the need for preachers trained in a deep understanding of the scripture and moral theology in c.10. Werner Maleczek analyzes c.1 within the context of Innocent III’s theological training, and Josep-Ignasi Saranyana points to the canon’s countering the Waldensian’s profession of faith and the significant role it later played in the development of the concepts of good and evil. Robert of Courson’s influence is highlighted by John Sabapathy who points to the parallel between his perception of a community’s integral role in asserting publica infamia, even if wrong, and the tensions in c.8, and by Alberzoni who points to the role of Courson and others as cardinal legates in transforming various canons’ objectives into reality. At a local level, Julia Barrow and Catherine Vincent pay particular attention to the council’s concern that parish priests had the necessary moral character and education, a hallmark of Paris’s teachings on the duty of a priest to tend to the health of souls. The extent of Innocent III’s personal involvement in the council provides one approach to the question of institutional reform, and the volume BOOK REVIEWS 623 suggests his role lay in presenting, rather than drafting, the conciliar acts. Helmrath argues that the constitutions were simply acclaimed, neither discussed nor debated, by the council participants; similarities are drawn by Pierantonio Piatti to Pope Gregory X at the Second Council of Lyons (1274), where the constitutions were read with no discussion. Kenneth Pennington posits curial drafting of some decrees on the basis of earlier decretals, while Gian Luca Potestà suggests that Robert of Courson or Stephen Langton could have drafted the condemnation of Joachim of Fiore in c.2. Instead, Thomas Prügl finds Innocent’s involvement in emphasizing an understanding of ecclesia universalis and the authority of the pope as the head of the church and as a teacher. Yet the volume does not shy away from recognizing the limitations of the council, or the pope. Jörg Feuchter posits that Innocent III may have used the council to share the blame for the unpopular decision to legitimize Simon of Montefort as Count of Toulouse while allowing Raimond VII to keep some of his lands. In addition, Innocent IIIs meeting with Dominic and Bishop Fulk of Toulouse at the council regarding the confirmation of the Order of Preachers lacked clarity. Stefan Burkhardt argues that, because council organizers saw the Eastern Church as one with the Latin Church, their principal concern was not a resolution to the Churches’ strained relationship but how much diversity should be allotted to Eastern rites. Gert Melville revisits the contradiction of c.13: mandating the choice between existing orders, which required assumption of another’s identity, on the one hand, while, on the other hand, the use of religio in the text suggested a life of spirituality and organization without referring to any specific institutional form. Piatti highlights a parallel confusion with Religionum diversitatem of the Second Council of Lyons (1274) that curbed the proliferation of beggar preachers without addressing the abuse of Franciscan and Dominican exemptions. Joseph Goering shows through the later examples of Robert Grosseteste and Innocent IV that pastoral care of Jews took place in abstract or general terms even as cc.67–70 collectively circumscribed Jewish-Christian interactions. Finally, David D’Avray demonstrates the council’s failure to curtail clandestine marriages and notes that rigid observance of the council’s reduction of the prohibited degrees was countered by marital dispensations. Collectively the essays showcase the broad influence of Lateran IV, while expanding our understanding of the successes and limitations of its acts, and the canons it issued. Florida Gulf Coast University MELODIE H. EICHBAUER 624 BOOK REVIEWS Inquisition in the Fourteenth Century: The Manuals of Bernard Gui and Nicholas Eymerich. By Derek Hill. [Heresy and Inquisition in the Middle Ages, Volume 7]. (York: York Medieval Press. 2019. Pp. x, 251. $99.) A few years ago, some of the most interesting and important work on medieval inquisition and inquisitors moved either inward or outward. Karen Sullivan’s book The Inner Lives of Medieval Inquisitors (2011) turned toward the subjectivity of individuals in an effort to understand what drove their inquisitorial zeal, while Christine Caldwell Ames’s Righteous Persecution looked beyond the inquisitors to medieval Christendom generally and found a repressive mentality that was widely shared.2 Now we have Derek Hill’s Inquisition in the Fourteenth Century: The Manuals of Bernard Gui and Nicholas Eymerich (2019), which turns neither inward nor outward but is focused resolutely on texts and their contexts and is in its own way among the most important of recent books on the medieval repression of heresy. It might be easy to overlook the significance of this book. The subtitle suggests the sort of comparison and contrast that could seem formulaic, perhaps even superficial. Many readers will know already that Gui and Eymerich played key roles both as inquisitors and as writers of inquisitorial manuals, and that in the early modern period an edited version of Eymerich’s Directorium inquisitorum became the most important of all such manuals. It is not those circumstances alone, however, that make Hill’s discussion worthy of attention. Over and above his treatment of these men and their writing is Hill’s persuasive argument that between Gui and Eymerich, or between the 1320s and 1370s, there were crucial shifts in the concept of heresy and in the understanding of how heretics should be treated. These changes cannot be abstracted entirely from the personalities and circumstances of the two inquisitor-authors, but Hill shows how these two men bring into focus changes that are not merely personal. Inquisitors and inquisitions had responded to heresy as early as the thirteenth century, and by the sixteenth century the machinery of the Spanish and Roman Inquisitions was in place; from Hill we learn how important the fourteenth century was as a transitional period. Gui served as inquisitor in Languedoc, where inquisitors had been at work for nearly a hundred years and had developed ample bureaucratic 2. Karen Sullivan, The Inner Lives of Medieval Inquisitors (Chicago, 2011); Christine Caldwell Ames, Righteous Persecution: Inquisition, Dominicans, and Christianity in the Middle Ages (Philadelphia, 2009). BOOK REVIEWS 625 resources. He worked in close cooperation not only with the bishops but with the French monarchy, which saw heretics as potential separatists, took considerable interest in their repression, and gave inquisitors financial backing. While Gui recognized that heretics could be devious, he was interested in securing their penitence. He and other inquisitors in Languedoc had been given specific mandate to deal with particular heresies, and in principle they could complete their work and be done, in which case there would be no need for permanent inquisitorial operation. His manual was meant specifically for fellow inquisitors, not for outsiders; having a clearly defined audience, it survives in only six manuscripts. Eymerich’s inquisitorial operation was far more autonomous than Gui’s. He had no financial support from the Aragonese monarchy, claimed a relatively high degree of independence even from his Dominican order, and sought support less from local bishops than from the pope. He viewed heretics as in league with demons, and his treatment of them was in important ways more ruthless than Gui’s: he had a lower threshold for the use of torture, he recommended tricks that the inquisitor could play on suspects, and he was less interested than Gui in securing penitence. His manual discussed not just particular heresies but the concept of heresy, and it gave intellectual justification for inquisition. The heresies Gui dealt with were mainly the Cathars and the Waldensians, both long familiar as international movements of dissent from the Church’s orthodoxy. Even as Gui wrote, however, the range of heresies was becoming expanded, and by Eymerich’s time it had come to include radical Franciscans or Béguins, individual thinkers such as Ramon Llull, potentially magicians and blasphemers. Eymerich claimed jurisdiction over heresy in written form; more than his predecessors he sniffed out heterodoxy in books. He saw even Jews and Muslims as coming under the inquisitors’ jurisdiction.3 He thus played a major role in expanding the range of heretics and even the concept of heresy. More importantly, he did so in the context of a manual that could guide inquisitors in their repression of these newly minted heretics. Being accessible and of potential interest to readers other than inquisitors, and surviving in some thirty-four manuscripts, it had the potential to influence thinking about heresy beyond the circle of inquisitors. 3. Michael D. Bailey, “Muslims in medieval inquisitorial thought: Nicolau Eymeric and his contexts,” Church History, 90 (2021), 1–20, supports and goes beyond Hill, analyzing Eymerich in the context not only of his effort to extend inquisitorial authority but also against much earlier representation of Islam as a heresy, jurisdictional conflicts between Church and Crown, and concern with covert or insidious threats. 626 BOOK REVIEWS While Eymerich contributed toward thinking about heresy, he also brought shifts in the understanding of inquisition. On this point the historiographic background to Hill’s book is indispensable. In an article of 1995, I argued that the notion of a medieval inquisition is problematic: there clearly was no unified or international agency to which the term Inquisition could apply (this much is uncontested), but even at the local and regional level institutionalization was highly uneven and not always long lasting, and while the sources speak routinely of an officium inquisitionis this was basically analogous to the officium praedicationis and other terms for functions entrusted to individuals.4 I suggested a set of criteria for assessing how far inquisition became institutionalized, the most important being establishment of a hierarchy of supervising and subordinate personnel. I had in mind that other historians might explore the degree of institutionalization in various locations and regions, but my provisional sense (which I still think was correct) was that incipient bureaucratization was highly uneven. Hill summarizes my argument, and his summary is sympathetic and correct. The main point on which Hill goes beyond my analysis—and this is one of his most important contributions—is that he sees not only the development of organizational structures but also ways of thinking about those structures as important for institutionalization. He argues that Max Weber’s conception of a hierarchical bureaucracy is not the only possible model for institutionalization: an institution can be defined as set of ideas, rules, or assumptions that shape behavior over time, with clear boundaries and autonomy from other institutions. If inquisition is seen as an institution in that sense, when precisely did it begin to take that form? Hill weighs that question carefully, argues for ways Gui’s inquisition did and did not qualify, and sees Eymerich’s understanding of inquisition as in his sense more fully institutional. Perhaps most importantly, Eymerich’s conception of the inquisitors’ task was more open-ended: inquisitors should not only concern themselves with a wider range of heresies but should police all the Church’s doctrinal boundaries, take the initiative in seeking out offenders, and thus he largely defined the purview of their work. Because their function was more openended, their operation was less likely to be completed, and thus it had a higher degree of permanence. Hill is careful to point out that Eymerich created a set of ideas rather than reality, but the ideas he articulated in the 4. Richard Kieckhefer, “The Office of Inquisition and Medieval Heresy: The Transition from Personal to Institutional Jurisdiction,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 46 (1995), 36–61. BOOK REVIEWS 627 1370s did become reality in the late fifteenth and sixteenth century, when his manual came to be used by the Spanish and Roman Inquisitions. Eymerich’s manual also prepared the way for the Malleus maleficarum, the most important of witch-hunters’ guides. Hill devotes considerable attention to the way Eymerich reconceived magic. He saw nearly all magic as relying on demons and involving some kind of pact. The Malleus develops this notion, already anticipated in Scholastic theology, and builds also on Eymerich’s recommendations for interrogation and torture. I would only caution here that there were at least three distinguishable developments in late medieval thinking: the conception of ordinary maleficent magic as “heresy” in a loose sense, the understanding of necromancy (in the sense of overtly demonic magic) as heresy because it implied false views of the demons it invoked, and the branding of conspiratorial witchcraft as heresy because it was thought to resemble earlier heretical movements and to entail orgiastic assemblies (or Sabbaths) of the sort long ascribed to those movements. While Eymerich’s thinking about necromancy surely did encourage his readers to see it as heretical, the notion of conspiratorial witchcraft as a new sort of sect was less obviously indebted to his innovation.5 Two other books recently published in the same series as Hill’s, and in the same year, contribute significantly to the questions he raises. Jill Moore’s Inquisition and Its Organization in Italy gives evidence that specifically in Italy for the period from 1250 to 1350 there is considerable evidence for continuity of supporting staff.6 As I point out in my article, the degree to which inquisition was thus institutionalized has to be judged place by place. For Italy at this time, as for Languedoc over a considerable length of time, inquisitorial work was in this respect more institutionalized than in many other places. My article highlighted this unevenness of 5. Richard Kieckhefer, “Witchcraft, Necromancy and Sorcery as Heresy,” in Martine Ostorero, Georg Modestin, and Kathrin Utz Tremp, eds., Chasses aux sorcières et démonologie: entre discours et pratiques (XIV e–XVII e siècles) (Florence, 2010), 133–53. 6. Jill Moore’s Inquisition and Its Organisation in Italy, 1250–1350 (Woodbridge: York Medieval Press, 2019). Moore responds to my article but fundamentally mischaracterizes my argument. I do not say that “the medieval inquisition cannot be regarded as having an institutional existence” (13 in Moore); to the contrary, I emphasize that degrees of institutionalization differed from one context to another. I do not say that “there was no continuity in inquisition staffing” (258, citing 38–40 in my article), or that support staff in general were mere adjuncts to inquisitors’ personal function (13, citing 55 but ignoring half of my sentence and thus falsifying). I do not say that “the term officium inquisitionis was rarely used” (13); to the contrary, I devote roughly five pages to analyzing how it was used. Even the short title she uses for my article, “Personal jurisdiction,” is tendentious. 628 BOOK REVIEWS bureaucratic development. Secondly, Moore points out that inquisitors worked closely with others, including fellow friars and superiors within their orders, who could provide support and supervision. That point is important, but it does not quite address my argument about the absence of a specifically inquisitorial hierarchy expressly charged with support, direction, and supervision of inquisitors even when their work was not subject to broad public attention. The other book, Reima Välimäki’s Heresy in Late Medieval Germany, is focused on the inquisitor Peter Zwicker and his writings against heresy.7 Zwicker was one of three inquisitors whom I had represented as essentially self-motivated mavericks who worked in the late fourteenth century, not with papal authorization, but with episcopal commissions that they obtained in various parts of Germany.8 Välimäki gives a crucially important correction on this point. He provides evidence that the impetus for this inquisitorial campaign in late fourteenth-century Germany came largely from the archbishop and archdiocese of Prague. Seeing no sign that these inquisitors held papal commissions, I had argued that what we see here was largely decentralized inquisition. Välimäki forces a reconsideration that is relevant to heresy-hunting and no doubt many other aspects of medieval ecclesiastical history: initiatives may be in some ways centralized even if they do not come from the papal Curia, and the historian’s task in these cases is to find the real center. Northwestern University RICHARD KIECKHEFER SIXTEENTH CENTURY In Search of “the Genuine Word of God”: Reception of the West-European Christian Hebraism in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in the Renaissance. By Rajmund Pietkiewicz. Translated by Monika and Jacek Szela. [Refo500 Studies, edited by Herman J. Selderhuis, Volume 73]. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht Verlage, 2020. Euros 100; ebook [pdf] €79,99. ISBN 978-3-525-51707-9 ) The author, Rajmund Pietkiewicz, is professor of Old Testament Exegesis and the Hebrew language at the Pontifical Faculty of Theology in 7. Reima Välimäki, Heresy in Late Medieval Germany: The Inquisitor Petrus Zwicker and the Waldensians (Woodbridge, 2019). 8. Richard Kieckhefer, Repression of Heresy in Medieval Germany (Philadelphia, 1979), 53–73. BOOK REVIEWS 629 Wroclaw, Poland. His field of specialization is the study of biblical translations into Polish. He is the first who studied Hebraica in the Renaissance Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. His work in Polish of 2011 and 2012 is now available in English, translated by Monika and Jacek Szela. The “Commonwealth” under consideration here is the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland, the Grand Dutchy of Lithuania and the fief lands of that commonwealth. The first mention of Hebraists appears around 1507, the date which marks the beginning of Pietkiewicz’s study which ends with the year 1638, when the antitrinitarian printing house in Racov (Rakov) was shut down. This year (1638) marks the end of the Renaissance in Polish printing (18). Chapter 1 provides an overview of Hebrew Studies in Renaissance Europe, including a subsection on Hebrew Studies among Lutherans, Zwinglians, Calvinists, Radicals, and Catholics. Chapter 2 focuses on Hebrew Studies in the Renaissance Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth including the reprinting of Christian Hebrew grammars in Cracow by foreigners such as the Dutch humanist Jan van den Campen (1490–1538), Philipp Michael Novenianus from Hassfurt in Bavaria (died 1563), and Francesco Stancaro from Mantua (ca. 1501–1574). Chapter 3, titled “Polish translations of the Hebrew Bible as a result of the reception of Renaissance Christian Hebraism,” deals with the history of the translations of the Bible into Polish, the dispute over the use of the Vulgate or the Hebrew Truth, the issue of translating “sense by sense” or “word by word,” and the sources of Polish translations of the Hebrew Bible. Twenty-nine examples from the Hebrew Bible follow, each of which offers the selected verse in the original Hebrew, Greek, Latin and in several Polish versions, such as the Calvinist Brest Bible (1563), the Lutheran Gdańsk Bible (1632), the Budny’s Bible (1572; Szymon Budny, whose nationality is unknown, affiliated with the Radicals, Polish Brethren and Antitrinitarians, ca. 1533–ca. 1595) and the two Catholic Bibles, the first by Jan Nicz Leopolita of Cracow (1523–1572; Bible: Cracow 1561) and then by the Polish Jesuit Jakub Wujek (Cracow 1599), both using the Vulgate as their text basis. This book is the most meticulous work on Eastern European Christian Hebraism for the Renaissance and Reformation time. Proof of that is the extensive bibliography which is divided in (1) Bible editions given in chronological order, (2) historical Sources, and (3) a comprehensive list contemporary Studies (233–312). Most welcome are the five indices of (1) personal names (313–324), (2) places (325–328), (3) topics (329–336), (4) biblical references including 3 Ezra, 4 Ezra and 3 Maccabees (337–340, and (5) “Others,” which include, for example, references to the books of 630 BOOK REVIEWS Johann Reuchlin or to the Index of Prohibited Books (341–343). Always helpful are illustrations of which there are more than twenty—for example, the Latin Psalter according to the Hebrew Truth by Jan van den Campen (Cracow, 1532, Fig. 5), the Brest Bible in Polish (Brest-Litovsk, 1563, Fig. 9 and Fig. 20), and the Gdańsk Bible in Polish (Gdańsk [Danzig], 1632, Fig. 10). The very helpful index of places facilitates, for instance, the study of the significance of the Eastern European cities like Gdańsk or Königsberg for Christian Hebraism. The book well deserved to have been translated into English as this theme has not been researched in English. It was printed with the financial support by the Polish Ministry of Science and Higher Education. Pietkiewicz’s book is to be highly recommended. Beaver Dam, WI FRANZ POSSET Courtship, Slander, and Treason: Studies of Mary Queen of Scots, the Fourth Duke of Norfolk, and a Few of Their Contemporaries, 1568–1587. By Arthur Freeman and Janet Ing Freeman. (London: Distributed by Maggs Bros Ltd. 2019. Pp. ix, 401. £35.00. ISBN 978-0-993376-22-1.) Two distinct but complementary sections comprise this work: “Mary Queen of Scots and the Fourth Duke of Norfolk: The Literature of the ‘Forbidden Match,’ 1568–73” by Arthur Freeman; and “The Trial and Death of Mary Queen of Scots in Contemporary Report: A Codicological Study” by Janet Ing Freeman. The studies are not, as the authors explain in the Prefatory Note, “retellings or reinterpretations . . . but essentially surveys of contemporary literature—narrative, argumentative, judgemental, propagandistic, and libellous—devoted thereto” (p. vii). Both sections begin with a clear, concise presentation of the historical background; indeed, a very helpful time line from 1509 to 1603 concludes the book. Each text is examined for style, locution, date of composition, authorship, printed and manuscript editions, circulation and influence. Particularly in the exposition of authorship, Arthur Freeman delineates and often refutes attributions proposed by other scholars and canonized by the Revised Short Title Catalogue. Alas, in a short review, I must restrict my comments to a few texts. Mary, Queen of Scots, arrived in England in May 1568. Four years earlier as Mary was looking for a suitor, Queen Elizabeth recommended Robert Dudley, soon to be Earl of Leicester, and Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. Mary preferred Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, and Norfolk was not interested. After the events of the intervening four years, the possibility was revived. A Discourse touching the pretended match published around the same time as the Northern Rising (1569–70) and Regnans in excelsis, Pope BOOK REVIEWS 631 Pius V’s excommunication of Queen Elizabeth (1570), attacked the proposed marriage. Freeman rejects the attribution of this work to Thomas Norton: “Anonymous A Discourse emerged from the press; anonymous, in my view, it remains” (p. 50). “An Answer to a slanderous booke,” the full text of which is printed here for the first time, rebuts the accusations and defends Mary and Norfolk. Here too the author remains unknown. A Treatise of treasons (1572), arguably the best known of the texts analyzed, defended the honor of Mary and, equally important, denounced the Elizabethan establishment as constructed by “new men” William Cecil and Nicholas Bacon. The author of this important treatise remains unknown despite various efforts at identification. We must, according to Freeman, console “ourselves, if at all, by at least one significant exclusion: the [John Leslie] Bishop of Ross” (p. 165). It is surprising that Freeman fails to mention that Cecil’s friends dissuaded him from refuting the treatise: instead the government retaliated with a proclamation against seditious works, especially attacks on Bacon and Cecil. The bishop of Ross did, however, author “A Discourse conteyning a perfect accompt,” and “A Brief discourse of the friendly and honest part,” another text printed here for the first time. Leslie’s frequent appearance again highlights the lack of a monograph on his role and significance in his advocacy of Mary’s cause, in the proposal of an “Association,” joint sovereignty, for Mary and her son James VI, and in the formation of alliances aimed at her liberation. Recent works by Susan Doran and Paulina Kewes on marital negotiations and the succession would have benefitted Freeman. The late Regius Professor Patrick Collinson once commented on the different terms used by literary critics and historians to describe the documents of their trade. The latter speak of sources, archival and published, from which data are extracted; the former speak of texts scrutinized from different perspectives with measured judgments. Arthur and Janet Ing Freeman are literary critics whose analysis has revealed much to this historian who has strip-mined some of these documents for information. Loyola University Maryland THOMAS M. MCCOOG, S.J. 632 BOOK REVIEWS SEVENTEENTH CENTURY Catholics during the English Revolution, 1642-1660: Politics, Sequestration and Loyalty. By Eilish Gregory. (Woodbridge, UK., Rochester NY: Boydell Press. 2021. Pp. xi, 234. $115.00. ISBN 9781783275946.) As indicated in the subtitle, this volume is a detailed analysis of the process of sequestration through which Catholic landowners were threatened with the loss of substantial estate holdings. Such economic penalties were not new to Catholics faced with the recusancy laws of Elizabeth and the early Stuarts and, in the course of three generations before the Civil Wars many of them had devised strategies for survival, often with the connivance of sympathetic Protestant neighbors and kin. In that sense they were prepared, more so than those Protestants, usually Episcopalian, who had taken arms on behalf of the Crown and, in consequence, also faced sequestration. Focussing largely on this issue, and how Catholics negotiated the changing legislation and circumstances of the period, the study is necessarily socially confined to the larger gentry and nobility, but that is compensated for by a wide geographical coverage taking in the Constables of East Yorkshire, the Arundells in Cornwall, the Sheldons in the West Midlands, the Carylls in Sussex, among others. This is an important advance as these were very differing social and religious environments which often influenced the strategies adopted by Catholic families. Under the pressure of war, Catholics abroad also were not immune from threat; the fortunes of Irish Catholic landowners is well known, but in 1645 violent attack extended as far as Maryland. With the exception of the Governor, Lord Baltimore, Catholics in the colony had their lands plundered and their houses burned, the Jesuit mission was attacked, and some sought refuge among the Patuxent native Americans. Matters in England were less violent and, indeed, Catholics were able to exploit ambiguities in the legislation to avoid penalties; in the religious turmoil of the period attendance at the parish church was no longer enforceable, and so the evidence of Catholicism was that bit harder to pursue. In addition, administrative upheaval meant that Catholics could exploit procedural irregularities to mitigate their penalties or restore some of their lands. Sir John Arundell did this in Cornwall, not without “vast expence,” and William Sheldon was able to exploit differences in the certificates issued against him in the several counties where he held land to mitigate some of the impact on his estates. Perhaps most significantly, print and petitioning both gave Catholics more information about legislation and their rights and offered them the means to pursue their own cases before not only Parliament but also the public. In the early 1650s, Sir William Constable printed an BOOK REVIEWS 633 account of his travails before petitioning Parliament in the hope of gaining public support and influencing MPs before they considered his case. These strategies were particular to the times, which also offered opportunities for Catholics to define a space for themselves within a polity in which a large number drew back from the notion of a state church. The ideas of the Blackloists, through the essays of the pamphleteer John Austin, are given due attention but, although their views held sway after the Restoration in the person of John Sergeant, like the hopes of Catholic landowners, they did not receive much more than warm words from the new king. More usually it was the well-practised deployment of well-connected friends and family, Catholic or otherwise, to intervene on their behalf with the authorities which protected Catholics, as in the case of Sir John Caryll, who used his Protestant Sussex connections to secure a reduction of his liability in 1656. In that sense this detailed and lively study is essentially one of continuity in Catholic negotiation with the state before and after these years, notwithstanding the upheavals of the Revolution. BILL SHEILS University of York AMERICAN Open Hearts, Closed Doors: Immigration Reform and the Waning of Mainline Protestantism. By Nicholas T. Pruitt. (New York: New York University Press. 2021. pp. x, 279. $45.00. ISBN: 9781479803545.) Evangelicals and fundamentalists were once marginalized in the study of American religious history, but now they receive too much attention. Thankfully, a new generation of scholars is proving that we still have a lot to learn about liberal, mainline, and ecumenical Protestants. Elesha Coffman, K. Healan Gaston, Kevin Schultz, Gale Kenny, and Gene Zubovich, among others, are moving the field beyond the “history of theology”—with its attendant obsession with the Niebuhr brothers—and establishing broader connections to American public life and identity. Nicholas T. Pruitt’s new book is a welcome addition to that endeavor. His subject is the ecumenical Protestant “pluralistic bargain” (3) that culminated in support for the liberalization of immigration law under the landmark Hart-Cellar Act (1965). Pruitt’s subjects were cosmopolitan in the (David) Hollingerian sense of championing controlled ethnic, racial, and religious diversity within a framework of continuing white Protestant supremacy. As Pruitt aptly puts it, “the pluralistic bargain amounted to an attempt by Protestant churches to incorporate progressive mores of toleration while bracing themselves against modern 634 BOOK REVIEWS cultural forces that threatened to decenter Protestant Christianity within American society” (7). Open Hearts, Closed Doors is an institutional history of Protestant home missions that highlights the social gospel’s paradoxical inclusiveexclusive nature. Following the establishment of immigrant quota systems between 1917–1924, the Federal Council of Churches (FCC) and the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) pursued kinder, gentler forms of “Christian Americanization” (43)—like community centers, immigrant schools on Ellis Island, and the Bureau of Reference for Migrating Peoples—as alternatives to the violent nativism of a resurgent Ku Klux Klan. Ecumenical Protestants advocated toleration for Japanese immigrants but did not begin challenging immigration restriction laws until during and after World War II. In the name of wartime “Christian brotherhood” (92), the FCC and SBC expanded refugee relief, aided the resettlement of interned Japanese Americans, and lobbied for increased immigration from Asia. Pruitt finds that “tri-faith” Christian Americanism still aimed to keep the country white and Protestant even while becoming more accepting of diversities of culture and language. Perhaps the most important Cold War liberal project ecumenical Protestants undertook was applying steady pressure on Washington for a more open immigration policy, including the passage of Hart-Cellar. The costs for doing so were both immediate and long-term: Ecumenical Protestants found themselves repeated targets of Red Scare churches and politicians, while the eventual consequence of their activism was the undermining of any white Protestant establishment. Pruitt concludes his study with a brief discussion of how evangelicals have taken up ecumenical Protestants’ “pluralistic bargain” in the twentyfirst century. He might have used that space to relay how ecumenical churches today have repented of Protestant exceptionalism and embraced a thoroughgoing cultural and religious pluralism centered around supporting immigrants—as Grace Yukich explored in One Family Under God (2013). But that is a minor point of disagreement. Pruitt has masterfully documented and detailed an unexplored dimension of Protestant social Christianity in action, including its direct and lasting impact on American life and politics. His book deserves a wide audience. Spring Arbor University MARK THOMAS EDWARDS BOOK REVIEWS 635 The Priest Who Put Europe Back Together: The Life of Father Fabian Flynn, CP. By Sean Brennan. (Washington, D.C. The Catholic University of America Press. 2018. Pp. 290. $34.95 paperback. ISBN 978-0-81323017-7.) Sean Brennan, Professor of History at the University of Scranton, has in The Priest Who Put Europe Back Together: The Life of Father Fabian Flynn, CP, provided an extremely well-researched and richly contextualized story of an important player in the rebuilding of post-World War II Europe through Flynn’s work with Catholic Relief Services (CRS). Brennan states, “This book seeks to place Flynn in the historical context of the military and diplomatic efforts of the United States government and the charitable work of the Catholic Church, from the early 1940s to the early 1970s” (p. xvi). The author aptly achieves his goal by providing a very readable and engaging story of a dedicated priest whose total goal in life was to serve others. Since no monograph on Flynn exists and little work has been published on the Passionist order or CRS, this volume adds significantly to the historical literature. In eight chapters and an introduction, Brennan presents a very positive biographical sketch of Father Fabian Flynn, a member of the Congregation of St. Paul of the Cross. Born and raised in Boston, he received an excellent secular education, excelling both in languages and writing, gifts that would greatly benefit him later in his ministry as a priest. He was ordained on February 8, 1931, and spent his early years as a Passionist in retreat work and writing for The Sign, his order’s publication. In 1942 he volunteered to serve as an Army chaplain, inaugurating a career that would take him far afield of most clerics. He served with distinction with the 26th Infantry Regiment (the Blue Spaders), participating in major campaigns in Sicily and the D-Day invasion of Europe, and earning the Silver and Bronze Stars for gallantry. After the war he served as a chaplain at the famous Nuremberg trials. Leaving the Army in July, 1946, he began a long career with Catholic Relief Services (CRS). Initially he supervised CRS efforts in the French quarter of occupied Germany. He then moved to Hungary, where he was under constant surveillance by Communist authorities. Eventually expelled from Hungary, he became head of CRS’s efforts in Austria, dealing especially with refugees, initially from Hungary after the 1956 revolution in that nation, and later in the early 1960s from Yugoslavia. In 1962 Flynn ended his CRS career in Europe. He was assigned as the agency’s Director of Public Relations, headquartered in the Empire State building in New York City. He continued to work until months before his death in January 1973. 636 BOOK REVIEWS Brennan presents Flynn as a heroic figure for his work in Europe but does not shy away from conflicts. From his earliest days in the Army and throughout his CRS career Flynn collided with his religious superiors over finances and residency in Passionist monasteries. Additionally, he battled with the United Nations High Command for Refugees (UNHCR). Later he was forced to defend CRS against the Catholic anti-war coalition in the United States, as well as accusations of corruption with its work in Vietnam during America’s presence in that nation. Brennan’s monograph is extremely well researched, utilizing archives and many interviews, as well as appropriate secondary sources. The book is richly contextualized, but at times this aspect feels overly extensive. Context associated with the “World in 1973” is the best example. At times Flynn is lost in the context. Additionally, the author uses numerous acronyms which should be periodically spelled out to assist the reader in keeping the players straight. This monograph can be enjoyed by students of American Catholic history, but additionally by those who enjoy histories of World War II and biographical studies in general. Sean Brennan has contributed greatly to the historical record by this engaging and interesting monograph. Stonehill College RICHARD GRIBBLE, C.S.C. John F. Kennedy and the Politics of Faith. By Patrick Lacroix. [Studies in US Religion, Politics, and Law] (Lawrence, Kansas: University Press of Kansas, 2021. Pp. 272. Hardback $34.95. ISBN 978-0-7006-3049-3.) Patrick Lacroix has written an important work of revisionist scholarship. Indeed, he argues—for the most part quite convincingly—that scholars of American religion (and of U.S. Catholicism in particular) have largely gotten the “secular sixties” completely wrong. As Lacroix argues the case, most previous scholars studying the contours of twentieth century American religious history have taken it as axiomatic that the famous “religious revival” of the 1950s ended with Dwight Eisenhower, and that the election of JFK in 1960 ushered in both the end of anti-Catholicism as a mainstream American pastime and the beginning of the era of waning religiosity during the 1960s and 1970s. But according to Lacroix, there was no “secular sixties.” And Lacroix points to the person Kennedy himself and his presidency for understanding the quite important intersection of religion and politics at the beginning of the 1960s. He argues that scholars studying American BOOK REVIEWS 637 religion have tended to echo (far too uncritically) the Christian right’s own assertion that the “secular sixties” were a decade of waning religiosity in which faith-based groups largely eschewed political engagement. In this quite mistaken periodization, the naked public square that Kennedy’s presidency ostensibly ushered in itself helped the forces of conservative religion to build up steam to emerge in the 1980s as the “New Religious Right.” But from Lacroix’s vantage, “the Kennedy years represent an important moment in the arc of U.S. religious history, connecting the religious revival of the 1950s to the conservative religious activism of the last quarter of the twentieth century” (2). As Lacroix shapes the story, both Kennedy himself and his presidency were key factors in a decade when “progressive religion”—far from staging a retreat—played a key role in politics and the public square. Indeed, the author constructs a narrative that seeks to displace most previous histories of U.S. religion that have largely ignored Kennedy’s impact on faith-based activism. The creation of the Peace Corps, as well as his growing appreciation for the social vision of Pope John XXIII (documented in papal encyclicals like Pacem in terris) illustrate Kennedy’s growing commitment to utilizing interdenominational faith-based groups in realizing his social vision in civil rights and economic aid initiatives, both in the United States and abroad. And the author is at pains to document how Kennedy’s own commitment to the causes of civil rights and the work of young people in the Global South were rooted in his own “progressive” Catholic values and moral sense, values seemingly given official church approbation by the “other John.” Lacroix argues that religion was “repurposed” during the Kennedy presidency: religion certainly had been instrumentalized at the beginning of the Cold War in the late 940s in the U.S. battle against “godless communism.” But both the tone and location of that marshaled faith was relocated after 1960: the religious faith of the American mainstream was utilized under JFK to promote liberal reform both domestically and abroad, specifically around the issues of racial justice, arms control, and U.S. contributions to developing countries in organizations like the Peace Corps. And the author argues that it was Kennedy himself who functioned as the center of gravity for this new (“progressive”) religious activism, all the while espousing a firm commitment to a high wall of separation between church and state, the latter rising more from Kennedy’s own deeply-held understanding of constitutional principles and from his “realist” recognition of anti-Catholic impulses on the Protestant right, rather than from his ostensibly secular values. 638 BOOK REVIEWS Lacroix’s study is rife with historical ironies, not the least of which was that it was the Catholic candidate in 1960 who played a key role in uncovering and deepening the rift between the “Seven Sister” mainstream Protestant groups affiliated with the National Council of Churches (deemed a “hotbed of liberalism” by religious conservatives) and the evangelical and Fundamentalist groups who feared the loss of America’s identity as a “Protestant nation.” Thus, the author notes that when Kennedy introduced civil rights legislation in 1963, it was to mainline (“liberal”) Protestant clergy and progressive Catholic leaders that he turned for allies, a progressive “religious alliance” that bred deep distrust of both those mainline Protestant clergy and of Kennedy himself on the part of evangelical/Fundamentalist believers, who viewed the alliance as proof positive of a secularizing tendency within American culture. And that characterization of both the president and of his liberal Protestant “fellow travelers” as already being far down the road to a secular worldview stuck,—both among political historians and among scholars of American religion. But, Lacroix argues, that characterization, much like the report of Mark Twain’s death, was a tad exaggerated, or even baseless. Lacroix argues that Kennedy himself came to identify with John XXIII’s social agenda over the course of his presidency, recognizing in him a pontiff committed to opening up the church to the needs of an increasingly complex world; Kennedy likewise cemented strong ties with liberal Protestant leaders, unintentionally contributing in important ways to ideological fractures within American Protestantism itself. But he also played an important role in the forging of new political alliances between progressive Protestants, Catholics, and Jews which would grow deeper in the course of the Sixties. For the author, it was JFK himself who contributed in significant ways to these ecumenical alliances on the “religious left” that eventuated in all those black and white newspaper photos of ministers, priests, and rabbis marching in civil rights marches and anti-war protests. For Lacroix, those interfaith alliances were forged in crucial ways by Kennedy’s own “progressive” religious loyalties, loyalties largely ignored or dismissed by previous scholars who characterized Kennedy as the first “secular” occupant of the White House. While there is an impressive amount of new insight (and recovered evidence) in this monograph—indeed enough to warrant revisiting the JFK presidency and the religion of the early Sixties by scholars of American religion and politics—there are also some interpretive problems in the narrative itself. Lacriox over-utilizes the essentially politically-grounded categories of “left” and “right” (or “progressive” and “conservative”) in portray- BOOK REVIEWS 639 ing evangelicals, traditionalist Catholics, and prophetic religious leaders, seemingly unaware of the interpretive limits of those political monikers in describing believers. Prophetic religion across the ideological spectrum doesn’t fit neatly into those essentially political boxes: there is nothing essentially “liberal” or “conservative” in a political sense about Reinhold Niebuhr or his Christian realism. Likewise the author seriously misreads figures like Will Herberg, whose classic work Protestant, Catholic, Jew Lacroix portrays as evincing the “characteristic optimism of [Herberg’s] early career, [believing] that he was witnessing a happy denouement to the great social challenge of the day—cultural pluralism” (23). It is in fitting complex thinkers like Niebuhr and Herberg without remainder into interpretive boxes largely defined by the North American political spectrum that represents the least satisfying parts of an otherwise important study. Patrick Lacroix offers a number of important new insights into a figure and era that religious and political historians had thought had been picked clean. They were mistaken. Buy this book. Boston College MARK MASSA, S.J. Notes and Comments ASSOCIATION NEWS The American Catholic Historical Association invites paper and panel proposals for its annual Spring Meeting at The University of Scranton. Individual papers will be accepted for review although the submission of complete (or nearly complete) panels/roundtables greatly facilitate the process. Presenters must register for the spring meeting and are strongly encouraged to join the ACHA. Graduate students and younger scholars are especially encouraged to consider presenting papers. Proposals are accepted via our online submission system, accessible via the green buttons at the bottom of this website: https://achahistory.org/ scranton2022/. The deadline is January 10, 2022. For each panel or roundtable proposal, please provide the title of the panel, the names and titles of chairs/discussants and presenters, and the titles of the papers. For each paper proposal, please provide a 200-word prospectus (no prospectus is necessary for the panel as a whole) and a one-page CV (per presenter). Questions about the call for proposals should be addressed to Professor Robert Shaffern of the University of Scranton History Department at robert.shaffern@scranton.edu. The American Catholic Historical Association invites submissions on any topic relevant to the study of Catholicism for its annual meeting in Philadelphia, PA, January 5–7, 2023. We are happy to return to Philadelphia, one of the earliest places in the United States to welcome Catholic worship and a city with a wide variety of Catholic immigrant groups, a vibrant parish life, and an efflorescent Catholic-built environment. It is also the site of one of the earlier and more detailed grand jury reports related to the sexual abuse crisis, and the site of considerable historical violence directed against Catholic churches, and against Black communities by Catholics. The organizers especially encourage individual paper and panel submissions that address the following: Catholicism in the MidAtlantic; Catholic Immigration; The Parish in Catholic History; Catholics in the Colonial Era and Early Republic; Art, Architecture, and Material Culture ; Transnational Catholicism; Women and Catholicism; Popular Movements; The clerical sexual abuse crisis; Communities Traditionally 640 NOTES AND COMMENTS 641 Marginalized in the Field of Catholic History; and Antiquity, Medieval, and Pre-modern Catholicism. The ACHA encourages panelists to submit their proposals for co-sponsorship with the American Historical Association. This AHA deadline is February 15, 2022. The ACHA will continue to accept paper and panel proposals until March 15, 2022. CAUSES OF SAINTS Pope Francis on August 30, 2021, has advanced the sainthood causes of a Franciscan friar who helped to rescue Jews during the Holocaust and a mother who sacrificed her life to save her unborn child. Fr. Placido Cortese (1907–44) is remembered for using his confessional in the Basilica of St. Anthony in Padua to communicate clandestinely with an underground network that helped Jewish people and British prisoners of war escape the Nazi occupation of Italy. He was arrested and taken to a Gestapo bunker in Trieste, where he was brutally tortured. But he did not give away the names of any of his associates, according to Fr. Giorgio Laggioni, his vice-postulator. After weeks of torture, he died in Gestapo custody in November 1944 at the age of 37. His confessional in the Basilica of St. Anthony of Padua continues to be a place of prayer today. Known locally as “the Italian Fr. Kolbe,” the priest is now considered “venerable” by the Catholic Church after the pope recognized him for living a life that was “heroic in virtue” on August 30. Like St. Maximilian Kolbe, Cortese was a Franciscan friar who directed a Catholic publication and was tortured and killed by the Nazis. In the decree from the Vatican Congregation for the Causes of Saints that advanced Cortese’s cause, two laywomen were also recognized for their heroic virtue. Enrica Beltrame Quattrocchi (1914–2012), is also on her way to sainthood, along with her parents, Bl. Luigi and Maria Beltrame Quattrocchi, who were beatified together in October 2001. Pope Francis declared Enrica a “servant of God.” Unlike her three older siblings who each followed vocations to religious life, Enrica lived out her Catholic faith as an unmarried lay Catholic who served as a high school teacher, a volunteer helping the poor, and a caretaker for her parents in their old age. The decree also recognized Maria Cristina Cella Mocellin (1969–95), a Catholic mother who chose not to undergo cancer chemotherapy while she was pregnant to save the life of her unborn third child. The Italian 642 NOTES AND COMMENTS mother began chemotherapy as soon as her son, Riccardo, was born in 1994, but the cancer spread to her lungs. She died on Oct. 22, 1995, at the age of 26, leaving behind three children. “I believe that God would not allow pain if he did not want to obtain a secret and mysterious but real good. I believe that I could not accomplish anything greater than saying to the Lord: Thy will be done,” she wrote. “I believe that one day I will understand the meaning of my suffering and I will thank God for it. I believe that without my pain endured with serenity and dignity, something would be missing in the harmony of the universe.” DOCUMENTARY The Knights of Columbus have produced and have made available a documentary film titled Enduring Faith that traces the living legacy of the Catholic faith among Indigenous communities in North America. It is available at kofc.org/enduringfaith or on DVD for purchase at Knightsgear.com. For more information about the documentary, see https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=n0ocQWF0y58&t=119s. RESEARCH CENTERS The Catholic Historical Research Center of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia (via: auth.ccsend.com) has announced that it is open by appointment only and limited to one researcher per day. Masks are required at all times. To make an appointment, please contact the Center by phone or email at (215) 904-8149 | archives@chrc-phila.org. Its new virtual exhibit, titled “Teaching the Faith: Origins of Catholic Higher Education in Philadelphia” can be viewed at https://omeka.chrcphila.org/exhibits/show/colleges. The Newberry Library of Chicago is sponsoring a research workshop on “New Spain: Demystifying Colonial Documents from the Ayer Collection” to be held on Friday, April 22, 2022 and to be led by Claudia Brittenham (University of Chicago) and Seonaid Valiant (Arizona State University). The application deadline is November 1, 2021. The Edward E. Ayer Collection of rare books and manuscripts contained 4,000 rare colonial documents from New Spain when it was given to the Newberry Library in 1911. The rich materials represented the early contacts between American Indians and Europeans, including sermons and dictionaries in indigenous languages handwritten by priests and pictorial court documents created by indigenous artists that contested land holdings in the Valley of Mexico. This one-day workshop will use the Ayer Collection and its his- NOTES AND COMMENTS 643 tory to discuss the historical migration of books in the global market. The workshop will also allow graduate students an opportunity to consult rare documents in the collection by learning how to read, contextualize, and interpret them. For more information, including a link to submit an application, please visit the event calendar page here: https://www.newberry. org/04222022-new-spain-newberry-library-demystifying-colonial-documents-ayer-collection. CONFERENCES On February 23, 2022, Dr. Unn Falkeid will offer a seminar at the Alta Scoula Europea di Scienze Religiose “Giuseppe Alberigo” in Bologna on the theme “Prophecies on the Threshold of Modernity: The Case of Birgitta of Sweden.” For more information, please contact altascuola@fscire.it. On May 4–6, 2022, the Eleventh Annual REFORC Conference on Early Modern Christianity will take place in Berlin, hosted by the Sonderforschungsbereich 980 Episteme in Bewegung of the Freie Universität Berlin. The plenary lectures will address the topic of “Body and Soul: Comparative Studies on the Body-Soul Concept in the Pre-Modern Era.” In the tradition of Greco-Roman antiquity and the monotheistic religions as well as in so-called pagan, non-monotheistic religions, the concept of the soul is associated with notions of spirituality, reason, volition, and imagination, but also of affectivity and passions. How is the relation of the soul to the body to be thought and what determines the self? Is the soul bound to the mortal body, like a vehicle of the soul, so that the true life begins only in an extracorporeal spirituality? How do bodily and spiritual existence relate to each other and what models play a role in this in premodern times? How do theological concepts of freedom, guilt, sin, and self-failure on the one hand, and immortality, life after death, redemption, a promise of salvation and afterlife, or immortality of the soul on the other hand intertwine? What models of corporeality, bodiliness, and affectivity play a role in this? The international conference aims to discuss the relationship between body and soul from a transcultural comparative perspective in the early modern period. We will include positions from different disciplines, e.g. medicine, art history, philosophy, literature, theology, and religious studies because of the plurality of pre-modern cultures. For more information, visit: https://reforc.com/events/eleventh-annual-reforc-conference-on-early-modern-christianity-2/. On August 1–4, 2022, an international symposium on Jesuit studies sponsored by Boston College will address the topic “The Jesuits and the 644 NOTES AND COMMENTS Church in History.” This International Symposium on Jesuit Studies will explore the many aspects of the Society’s relations to the Church, all within the global contexts in which the Jesuit mission grew and operated. This event will be held at Boston College between two other major gatherings of global scope, one being that of the International Federation of Catholic Universities and the second that of the International Association of Jesuit Universities. The symposium welcomes the submission of paper proposals from across a wide range of themes, periods, and disciplines. Presentations might address such questions as: How has the special vow to the pope influenced the work of the Society at the service of the Church and contributed to the creation of different images of the Society itself? What has the relationship of the hierarchy to the Society revealed about the role of the Jesuits in the Church? What functions did the Society play in the Church’s global mission and how did the Jesuits both cooperate and compete with other religious orders in mission territories? How did politics affect the relationship between the Jesuits and the Church? How have various ecclesially established Jesuit-directed cultural initiatives (including schools, observatories, popular media, research institutes and journals) influenced this relationship? What do educational initiatives of the Society and its intellectual contributions reveal about Jesuit influence on Catholic culture over the course of history? What can we gather about the relationship of Jesuits and the Church from the lives and works of Jesuit saints and luminaries? Proposals and a narrative CV (together no more than 500 words) are due before the end of Monday, December 6, 2021, with decisions communicated before the end of December 2021. Proposals for individual papers or panels are accepted. Selected papers may be peer reviewed and published in open access following the event. For further information and to submit proposals, contact the Institute for Advanced Jesuit Studies at iajs@bc.edu. N O T E S AND C O MME N T S 645 OBITUARY The Reverend Lawrence John Nemer, S.V.D. (1932–2021) Lawrence Nemer was born in Chicago on November 24, 1932, the seventh and last child of Boleslaus and Mary (née Nowak) Niemierowicz. (As young adults he and his two brothers simplified their surname to “Nemer.”) At the age of twelve he decided that he wanted to be a missionary. Accordingly, after graduating from a parochial school, he entered the high school seminary of the Society of the Divine Word in East Troy, Wisconsin, in September, 1946. For his college and theological studies he attended the Society’s seminary in Techny, Illinois. In 1952 he professed religious vows, and in 1960 he was ordained to the priesthood by Cardinal Albert Meyer, Archbishop of Chicago. In his final years at the seminary, he spent his summers studying for an M.A. degree in American literature at De Paul University in Chicago. Then, while still a seminarian, he began his teaching career as an instructor of English literature at the Brother Candidates’ High School at Techny in 1958. After ordination he was sent to Rome, where he earned a licentiate’s degree in missiology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in 1962. Having returned to Techny, he taught missiology, church history, and liturgy at the Divine Word Seminary. After two years he was sent to the Catholic University of America to study church history. He concentrated his attention on the nineteenth-century missionary movement and its European background; his master’s thesis was titled “An Image of the French Protectorate in China as reflected in the Catholic and Moderate Press at the Time of the Third Republic,” which was published in 1967. 646 N O T E S AND C O MME N T S In 1970, when the number of seminarians was declining, Father Nemer became a leader in the transition from St. Mary’s Seminary at Techny to the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. Three years later he entered the University of Cambridge as a doctoral student in church history. In his dissertation, written under the supervision of Max Warren, a former general secretary of the Church Missionary Society, whom he greatly respected, he compared that society with the Catholic Mill Hill Missionaries at the end of the nineteenth century; it was published as Anglican and Roman Catholic Attitudes on Missions: An Historical Study of Two English Missionary Societies in the Late Nineteenth Century (1865– 1885) in “Studia Instituti Missiologici Societatis Verbi Divini,” Vol. 297 [St. Augustin, Germany: Steyler Verlag, 1981). In the Catholic Theological Union he was director of the World Mission Studies Program from 1982 to 1990. In 1985 he was promoted to the rank of full professor. During these years he was impressed and befriended by Professor R. Pierce Beaver of the University of Chicago. He also collaborated with James Scherer of the Lutheran School of World Mission extensively. At the beginning of 1991 he was permitted by his religious superiors to go to Australia, where he became a lecturer in church history and mission studies at Yarra Theological Union in Box Hall, Victoria, with residence at the Divine Word Formation House, Dorish Maru College. He also traveled for lectures, workshops, meetings, and retreats to India, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan, and Indonesia. In 1998 he interrupted his sojourn in Australia to become director of the Missionary Institute London (Holcombe House), which had been founded by seven Catholic missionary congregations and was staffed mainly by experienced missionaries. During his six-year term of office he visited several countries in Africa. Having resumed his work in Yarra in 2004, Father Nemer became the founding president of the Australian Association for Mission Studies and chairman of the editorial board of its organ, Australian Journal of Mission Studies. In 1995 he had produced The Catholic Church in Vietnam, and in 2002 Mission in the 21st Century: An Historical Perspective. His last important work was The Great Age of Mission: Some Historical Studies in Mission History (St. Augustin, Germany: Steyler Verlag, 2013). During these years he also taught courses in the Philippines for several semesters and gave retreats and conducted workshops in Vietnam and Papua New Guinea. After he was named Lector emeritus at the Yarra Theological Union, he continued to teach not-for-credit units and reading units in mission and NOTES AND COMMENTS 647 church history and to supervise master’s and doctoral theses. In all he spent twenty-seven years in Box Hill, not only teaching but also working with returning missionaries, serving as chaplain for a Team of Our Lady, and doing pastoral work in a neighboring parish.* At the end of 2018 he moved to the Divine Word Retirement Home in Marsfield, New South Wales (near Sydney). Having suffered injuries in a fall, he was taken to St. Catherine’s Aged Care Home. Later he was transferred to the Seventh Day Adventist Hospital in Sydney, where he died on June 9, 2021. His funeral Mass was held in the Arnold Janssen Chapel in Marsfield. He is survived by a sister, Mrs. Grace Dossing (who is ninety-eight years old). Father Nemer was highly esteemed and even loved by all who knew him. Father van Thanh Nguyen, S.V.D., the Francis M. Ford, M.M., chair of Catholic Missiology at the Catholic Theological Union, has written: “Father Nemer earned the respect of church historians and missiologists worldwide. He taught three generations of scholars.” The Catholic University of America (Emeritus) ROBERT TRISCO *See “My Pilgrimage in Mission,” International Bullein of Missionary Research, Vol. 33, No. 1 (Jan., 2009), pp. 39–41, in www.internationalbulletin.org/issues/2009-01/2009-01039-nemer.html Periodical Literature ANCIENT “Oubliant qu’ils étaient pontiques et chrétiens, ils sont devenus barbares”: identités mouvantes dans la lettre canonique de Grégoire le Thaumaturge. Mantė Lenkaitytė Ostermann. Revue des Sciences Religieuses, 94 (Apr.-Dec., 2020), 235–59. Bread in the Desert: The Politics and Practicalities of Food in Early Egyptian Monasticism. Benjamin Hansen. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 286–303. Writing the Jews out of History: Pseudo-Hegesippus, Classical Historiography, and the Codification of Christian Anti-Judaism in Late Antiquity. Carson Bay. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 265–85. The Fruit of Confessing Lips: Sacrifice and the Genre of Augustine’s Confessions. Michael P. Foley. Augustinianum, 59 (Dec., 2019), 425– 52. Peur et religion dans le monachisme primitif. Fabrizio Vecoli. Revue des Sciences Religieuses, 94 (Apr.–Dec., 2020), 283–312. Gregory of Tours on Sixth-Century Plague and Other Epidemics. Michael McCormick. Speculum, 96 (Jan., 2021), 38–96. MEDIEVAL The Politics of Sound and Song: Lectors and Cantors in Early Medieval Iberia. Molly Lester. The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 471–90. Revelatio on the Origins of Mont Saint-Michel (Fifth-Ninth Centuries). George N. Gandy. Speculum, 95 (Jan., 2020), 132–66 Las colecciones de documentos bajomedievales de las diócesis de Braga y Tui como fuente de estudio para la historia de la frontera gráfica. Ares Legaspi. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 263–88. The People of God and the Law: Biblical Models in Carolingian Legislation. Gerda Heydemann. Speculum, 95 (Jan., 2020), 89–131. 648 PERIODICAL LITERATURE 649 “To Embrace a Sack of Excrement”: Odo of Cluny and the History of an Image. Christopher A. Jones. Speculum, 96 (July, 2021), 662–98. Froibirg Gives a Gift: The Priest’s Wife in Eleventh-Century Bavaria. Fiona J. Griffiths. Speculum, 96 (Oct., 2021), 1009–38. Conflicts and Continuity in the Eleventh-Century Religious Reform: The Traditions of San Miniato al Monte in Florence and the Origins of the Benedictine Vallombrosan Order. Francesco Salvestrini. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 491–508. The Scribes of the Silos Apocalypse (London, British Library, Add. MS 11695) and the Scriptorium of Silos in the Late Eleventh Century. Ainoa Castro Correa. Speculum, 95 (Apr., 2020), 321–370. Performative Images and Cosmic Sound in the Exultet Liturgy of Southern Italy. Bissera V. Pentcheva. Speculum, 95 (Apr., 2020), 396– 466. Origen’s Story: Heresy, Book Production, and Monastic Reform at SaintLaurent de Liége. Jay Diehl. Speculum, 95 (Oct., 2020), 1051–86. Macro/Microcosm at Vézelay: The Nathex Portal and Non-elite Participation in Elite Spirituality. Conrad Rudolph. Speculum, 96 (July, 2021), 601–61. “I Need to Be Individually Loved, Lord, Let Me Recognize Your Gift!”: The Gifts of Love in the Soliloquy of Hugh of Saint-Victor (d. 1141). Ritva Palmén. Speculum, 95 (Jan., 2020), 167–85. News in the Middle Ages: News, Communications, and the Launch of the Third Crusade in 1187–1188. Helen Birkett. Viator, 49 (3, 2018), 23– 62. Audita Tremendi and the Call for the Third Crusade Reconsidered, 11871188. Thomas W. Smith. Viator, 49 (3, 2018), 63–102. The Passio Reginaldi of Peter of Blois: Martyrdom and Eschatology in the Preaching of the Third Crusade. Alexander Marx. Viator, 50 (3, 2019), 197–232. Made for a Templar, Fit for an Abbess: The Psalter, Cambridge, St. John’s College, MS C.18 (68). Katie Ann-Marie Bugyis. Speculum, 95 (Oct., 2020), 1010–50. Nivelon de Quierzy, the Cathedral of Soissons, and the Relics of 1205: Liturgy and Devotion in the Aftermath of the Fourth Crusade. M. Cecilia Gaposchkin. Speculum, 95 (Oct., 2020), 1087–129. 650 PERIODICAL LITERATURE The Diffusion of the De spiritu et anima and Cistercian Reflection on the Soul. Constant J. Mews. Viator, 49 (3, 2018), 297–330. The Joy of Lists. The Provinciale Romanum, Tribute and Ad Limina Visitation to Rome. Benedict G. E. Wiedemann. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 61–97. Inventing Apostolic Impression Relics in Medieval Rome. Erik Inglis. Speculum, 96 (Apr., 2021), 309–66. Negotiating the Union. Epistolary Exchange between the Greek and Armenian Churches in the 13th Century: The Documents. Federico Alpi—Pietro D’Agostino. O rientalia Christiana Periodica, 86 (2, 2020), 465–518. Spare no Scrap. A Piece of Binder’s Waste as Evidence for Institutional Development at the Abbey of Prémontré in the Thirteenth Century. Heather Wacha, Yvonne Seale. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.-June, 2021), 5–31. El hermano guardián. Consideraciones desde el carisma franciscano y las Constituciones franciscanas de los siglos XIII y XIV. Valentín Redondo, OFMConv. Miscellanea Francescana, 121 (1–2, 2021), 210–35. Bishop Guðmundr’s Roman Redemption: Imagining and Suspemding Papal Government in Medieval Iceland. Joel Anderson. Speculum, 95 (July, 2020), 657–88. Eve, Mary, and Martha: Painting for the Humiliati Nuns at Viboldone. Julia I. Miller. Speculum, 96 (Apr., 2021), 418–65. Le statut juridictionnel des paroisses catholiques du Kosovo-et-Métochie au Moyen Âge. Dragana J. Janjić. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 32–58. Death and a Clothing Swap: An Unusual Case of Death and Burial in the Religious Habit from Fourteenth-Century Naples. Kirsten Schut. Viator, 50 (1, 2019), 185–226 From Purification to Protection: Plague Response in Late Medieval Valencia. Abigail Agresta. Speculum, 95 (Apr., 2020), 371–95. Copying and Reading The Prick of Conscience in Late Medieval England. Michael Johnston. Speculum, 95 (July, 2020), 742–801. Jean Gerson (1363–1429) and Woman’s Authority of Virtue Within and Outside the Household. Yelena Mazour-Matusevich. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 98–121. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 651 Pratique religieuse et pouvoirs á la fin du Moyen Âge: les litterae confessionales de la pénitencerie apostolique. Véronique BeaulandeBarraud. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.-June, 2021), 123–158. Augustine as an Auctoritas in Juan de Torquemada’s Apparatus Super Decretum Florentinum Unionis G raecorum (1441). Alexander H. Pierce. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 304–23. A Rudder for The Ship of Fools?: Bosch’s Franciscans as Jongleurs of God. Peter V. Loewen. Speculum, 96 (Oct., 2021), 1079–1138. The Body-and-Soul in Pain: Medico-Theological Debates in Late Medieval Castilian Passion Treatises. Jessica A. Boon. Viator, 50 (1, 2018), 249–87. “By Means of Secret Help and Gifts”: Venetians, Mamluks, and Pilgrimage to the Holy Land at the Turn of the Sixteenth Century. Jesse Hysell. Viator, 49 (3, 2018), 227–96. SIXTEENTH CENTURY La interrupción de las peregrinaciones etíopes a Tierra Santa en el contexto de la rivalidad entre otomanos y portugueses a principios del siglo XVI. Victor de Lama de la Cruz. LA . Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 309–34. François I: Religious Reformer? Matthew McNicoll. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 160–200. Devotion in Exile: A Looking G lace for the Religious and the Preservation of the Birgittine Community of Syon Abbey. Brandon Alakas. Viator, 49 (3, 2018), 289–315. The Interconnected Histories of the Syriac Churches in the Sixteenth Century. Lucy Parker. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 509–32. But a ‘Stage-Play’: A Counter-Reformation View of the Marian Church. Freddy Domínguez. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 533–51. Sectarian Violence in Premodern Japan and Europe: Jōdo Shinshū and the Anabaptists. Philippe Buc. Viator, 50 (1, 2019), 351–86. 652 PERIODICAL LITERATURE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES (EASTERN HEMISPHERE) La herencia escondida: las huellas documentales de Roberto Bellarmino en la Pontificia Universidad Gregoriana. Martín M. Morales, S.I. Gregorianum, 102 (3, 2021), 575–93. San Vicente Ferrer y el memorial al cardenal Michelangelo Tonti (1621). Enric Ferrer. Archivum Scholarum Piarum, 44 (2020), 193–205. Notizie Historiche. Giancarlo Caputi. Archivum Scholarum Piarum, 44 (2020), 3–86. En aras de la salvación eterna: obra pía y patronato de don Pedro de Granada Venegas Manrique, marqués de Campotéjar (1634). José Antonio García Luján. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 363–81. Anglican Rites of Consecration and the Delineation of Sacred Space, ca. 1689–1735. Andrew Spicer. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 324–47. Interchangeable Bodies: International Marriage and Migration in the Eighteenth-Century Moravian Church. Kelly Douma-Kaelin. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 348–66. La intervención del derecho de patronazgo en las disputas entre las jurisdicciones eclesiásticas: la colegiata de Aguilar de Campoo y el arzobispo de Burgos en 1748. Alberto Corada Alonzo. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 383–404. Los colegios-seminarios de nación de las islas Británicas en España una memoria inédita de 1757. Cristina Bravo Lozano. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 405–31. Philip Melanchthon and the Age of Enlightenment: Notes on his Commemoration in 1760. Zachary Purvis. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 552–72. NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES (EASTERN HEMISPHERE) A Revisionist Account of Early Colonial Catholic Education. Damian John Gleeson. Australian Catholic Record, 98 (Apr., 2021), 188–204. The Superintendent and the Chaplain: Maconochie and McEncroe on Norfolk Island. Part 1: Documents. Colin Fowler. Australian Catholic Record, 98 (Apr., 2021), 131–61. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 653 The Superintendent and the Chaplain: Maconochie and McEncroe on Norfolk Island. Part 2: Their Evolving Relationship. Colin Fowler. Australian Catholic Record, 98 (Apr., 2021), 162–87. Charity as Social Justice: Antonio Rosmini and the Great Irish Famine. Francesco Zavatti. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 573–89. Early Catholic Education in Sydney: The University of Sydney Senate. Graem Pender. Australian Catholic Record, 98 (Apr., 2021), 205–16. Il convento dei Frati Minori Conventuali a Gela e il cardinale Antonio Maria Panebianco (1808–1885). Francesco Costa, OFMConv. Miscellanea Francescana, 121 (1–2, 2021), 188–209. San Giovanni Bosco e la pedagogia polacca. Jan Wnęk. Antonianum, 96 (Apr.-June, 2021), 330–55. P. Mauro Ricci, Vicaro General (1884–86) y 30° Prepósito General de las Escuelas Pías (1886–1900). José P. Burgués. Archivum Scholarum Piarum, 44 (2020), 87–192. Jacques Maritain et Nicolas Berdiaev: un “émouvant dialogue” entre le philosophe thomiste et le philosophe russe (1925–1948). Bernard Hubert. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 202–305. The Liquidation of the Greek Catholic Church in Communist Czechoslovakia, 1948–50. Jaroslav Coranič. Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 72 (July, 2021), 590–610. André Scrima’s Contribution to the Ecumenical Breakthrough in Orthodox-Catholic Relationships: A Historical Reconstruction (1957–1967). Viorel Coman. O rientalia Christiana Periodica, 86 (2, 2020), 571–95. Juan Pablo ii y los obispos polacos hablan sobre Iglesia y política a propósito de la primera visita papal a Polonia en junio de 1979. Pablo Pérez López, and Anna K. Dulska. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 433-63. AMERICAN AND CANADIAN A Cause of Distress: The Evangelical Lutheran Synod of the West. Benjamin T. Phelps. Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly, 94 (Summer, 2021), 31–55. 654 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Battle for the Soul of a City: John Roach Straton, Harry Emerson Fosdick, and the Fundamentalist-Modernist Controversy in New York, 1922–1935. Wallace Best. Church History, 90 (June, 2021), 367–97. De l’Église-Nation à l’État-Nation (1945–1968). Le Québec français face à l’enjeu de l’immigration. Jean-Philippe Croteau. Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, 116 (Jan.–June, 2021), 307–42. The Martin Luther Film of 1953 and Confessional Tensions in the United States and Germany. Mark Edward Ru Concordia Historical Institute Quarterly, 94 (Summer, 2021), 8–30. LATIN AMERICAN La participación del clero secular en el alzamiento cortesiano de 1566: el caso de Alonso Chico de Molina. Francisco Luis Jiménez Abollado. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (Mar., 2020), 24–46. Exhuming the Nahualli: Shapeshifting, Idolatry, and Orthodoxy in Colonial Mexico. Anderson Hagler. The Americas, 78 (Apr., 2021), 197–228. Translating the divine: culture contact and language planning from within a sixteenth-century Nahuatl dictionary. Szymon Gruda. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (Sep., 2021), 389–406. Confradías de esclavos negros, morenos y mulatos libres en la Catedral de Santo Domingo, Primada de América. Esteban Prieto Vicioso. Anuario de Historia de la Iglesia, 30 (2021), 335–62. Los milagros en la Relación de las islas Filipinas (1604) de Perod Chirino. Luis Castellví Laukamp. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (June, 2020), 177–94. Communicating faith: language and extirpation in the seventeenth-century Archdiocese of Lima. Amy Huras. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (June, 2019), 197–228. Intimate knowledge and the making of witnesses in Lima’s seventeenthcentury divorce court. Alexander L. Wisnoski III. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (June, 2020), 239–55. From ira to imagen: the Virgin of the Antigua as a ‘space for correlation’ in seventeenth-century Lima. Ximena A. Gómez. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (June, 2021), 214–37. PERIODICAL LITERATURE 655 The composite pardo of seventeenth-century Lima: blackness, whiteness, and Creole self-fashioning in the earliest portraits of Martín de Porres. Larissa Brewer-García. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (June, 2021), 272–304. Broken flowers: Christian spolia in a colonial Mixtec household. Jamie E. Forde. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (June, 2020), 195–222. Paradise and Perdition: Jesuit Visions of Santiago, Chile, before and after the Earthquake of 1647. Catherine Burdick. Hispanic American Historical Review, 99 (Nov., 2019), 589–618. Espacios locales y espacios transcendentales de la conversión: las Postrimerías de Carabuco y la producción performativa de epistemologías transculturales. Astrid Windus. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (Mar., 2019), 59–80. Los temibles ojos, oídos y brazos de la Inquisición: notas sobre la censura de libros en Nueva España entre los siglos XVII y XVIII. Idalia García. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (June, 2019), 258–80. Regímenes de memoria misional: formas visuales emergentes en las reducciones jesuíticas de América del Sur. Guillermo Wilde. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (Mar., 2019), 10–36. Architects of their own humanity: race, devotion, and artistic agency in Afro-Brazilian confraternal churches in eighteenth-century Salvador and Ouro Preto. Miguel A. Valerio. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (June, 2021), 238–271. Reformas borbónicas, patronato real y la Inquisición en el Perú: Relación del auto de fe de Pedro de Peralta Barnuevo (1733). Stephanie Rohner. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (Sept., 2021), 407–22. Crossing the Threshold from Adolescence to Adulthood in EighteenthCentury Puerto Rico: The Baptismal Sponsorship of Enslaved Infants in Arecibo, 1735–1772. David M. Stark. Hispanic American Historical Review, 100 (Nov., 2020), 623–54. Gendered expressions of popular piety: devotionals, education, and the development of the new readership of women and children in Mexico City, 1750–1821. Shayna Mehas. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (Dec., 2020), 602–29. Jerusalén celestial en los Andes: apropiación iconográfica y autorrepresentación en la pintura mural tardo-colonial. Camila Mardones Bravo. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (Mar., 2019), 106–27. 656 PERIODICAL LITERATURE Fray Francisco de la Cruz and translatio imperii. Elise Bartosik-Vélez. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (Mar., 2020), 25–43. Enemies of the enlightened state: Francisco Clavijero on exiled Jesuits, sovereign power and the contested futures of Spanish America. Luis Ramos. Colonial Latin American Review, 30 (Mar., 2021), 79–108. El rito bautismal y las imágenes pintadas en la iglesia de Curahuara de Carangas. Fernando Guzmán et al. Colonial Latin American Review, 28 (Mar., 2019), 81–105. The Precious Seed of Christian Virtue: Charity, Disability and Belonging in Guatemala, 1871–1947. Heather Vrama. Hispanic American Historical Review, 101 (May, 2021), 264–95. Talking back: nuns, beatas, and colegialas invoke rights and constitutional principles in late colonial and early nineteenth-century Mexico. Margaret Chowning. Colonial Latin American Review, 29 (Mar., 2020), 115–38. La “cuestión franciscana” en publicaciones de la Provincia de la Santísima Trinidad. Nelson Manuel Alvarado Sánchez. Antonianum, 96 (Apr.– June, 2021), 357–95. Veterans of Christ: Soldier Reintegration and the Seventh-Day Adventist Experience in the Andean Plateau, 1900–1925. Yael Mabat. The Americas, 77 (Apr. 2020), 187–216. Counting Chinese People in a Catholic Country: Religious Di Racial Discrimination, and the 1930 Mexican Population Census. Kit Agustine-Adams. The Americas, 76 (Oct. 2019), 607–40. The Lynching of the Impious: Violence, Politics, and Religion in Postrevolutionary Mexico (1930s–1950s). Gema Kloppe-Santamaría. The Americas, 77 (Jan., 2020), 101–28. God, Cleanliness, and the City: Local Uses of Hygiene and Anticlerical Language in Religious Conflict—Guadalajara, Mexico 1939–1942. Jason Dormady. Latin Americanist, 64 (Dec., 2020), 393–422. “You are a Priest Forever”: The Dual Sacramentality and Humanity of Andean Roman Catholic Priests in Talavera, Peru. Christine Lee. Latin American Research Review, 56 (3, 2021), 642–54. Other Books Received Allen, David (Ed.). The Cartulary and Charters of the Priory of Saints Peter and Paul, Ipswich. Part I: The Cartulary. [Suffolk Charters.] (Woodbridge, Suffolk: The Boydell Press. 2018. Pp. xx, 292. $99.00.) Barrett, James R. History from the Bottom Up and the Inside Out: Ethnicity, Race, and Identity in Working-Class History. (Durham: Duke University Press. 2017. Pp. 304. $27.95.) Barth, Karl. Ed. R. David Nelson; trans. Ross M. Wright. The Epistle to the Ephesians. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic. 2017. Pp. vi, 182. $30.00.) Bortolato, Quirino Alessandro, and Mirosław Lenart (Eds.). Nunzio in una Terra di Frontiera: Achille Ratti, poi Pio XI, in Polonia (1 9 1 8 1 9 2 1 ); Nuncjusz na Ziemiach Pogranicza: Achilles Ratti, Późniejszy Pius XI, w Polsce (1 9 1 8 -1 9 2 1 ). (Vatican City: Libreria editrice Vaticana. 2017. Pp. 522. €25,00.) Broser, Tanja. Der päpstliche Briefstil im 1 3 . Jahrhundert: Eine stilistische Analyse der Epistole et dictamina Clementis pape quarti. [Archiv für Diplomatik, Schriftgeschichte Siegel- und Wappenkunde, Beiheft 17.] (Vienna: Böhlau Verlag. 2018. Pp. 406. €60,00.) Carter, Jason A. Inside the Whirlwind: The Book of Job through African Eyes. (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2016. Pp. xx, 306. $38.00 paperback.) Cau, Maurizio, and Christoph Cornelissen (Eds.). I media nei processi elettorali: Modelli ed esperienze tra età moderna e contemporanea. [Annali dell’Istituto storico italo-germanico in Trento, Quaderni, 106.] (Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino. 2020. Pp. 430. €34,00 paperback.) Cavadini, Nancy, and Cecilia Davis Cunningham. Stories in Light: A Guide to the Stained Glass of the Basilica at the University of Notre Dame. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. 2020. Pp. xii, 220. $24.00.) Champion, Justin, et al. Politics, Religion, and Ideas in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Britain: Essays in Honour of Mark Goldie. [Studies in Early Modern Cultural, Political and Social History, Vol. 34.] (Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell Press. 2019. Pp. xviii, 346. $115.00.) 657 658 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Cherry, Haydon. Down and Out in Saigon: Stories of the Poor in a Colonial City. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. 2019. Pp. xx, 259. $50.00.) Coss, Peter et al. (Eds.) Episcopal Power and Local Society in Medieval Europe, 900–1400. [Medieval Church Studies 38.] (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols Publishers. 2017. Pp. xii, 294. €80,00.) Crowley, Roger. The Accursed Tower: The Fall of Acre and the End of the Crusades. (New York: Basic Books. 2019. Pp. xvi, 255. $28.00.) Cusimano, Richard, and Eric Whitmore (Trans). Selected Works of Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis. (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press. 2018. Pp. xiii, 295. $65.00.) Edwards, Dennis R. The Story of God Bible Commentary: 1 Peter. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic. 2017. Pp. 240. $29.99.) Fejérdy, András. Pressed by a Double Loyalty: Hungarian Attendance at the Second Vatican Council, 1959-1965. (Budapest: Central European University Press. 2016. Pp. xx, 426. $105.00.) Greenstein, Edward L. Job: A New Translation. (New Haven: Yale University Press. 2019. Pp. xxxix, 206. $26.00.) Hellman, J. A. Wayne, OFM Conv., Timothy R. LeCroy, and Luke Davis Townsend (Trans.). Works of Bonaventure. Vol. XVII: Commentary on the Sentences: Sacraments. (St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Institute Publications. 2016. Pp. xvi, 543. $49.95 paperback.) Hugo, William R., OFM Cap., and Joanne Schatzlein, OSF. Studying the Life of Saint Clare of Assisi. A Beginner’s Workbook. (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press. 2019. Pp. 318. $24.95 paperback.) Johnson, Andy. The Two Horizons New Testament Commentary: 1 and 2 Thessalonians. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing. 2016. Pp. xviii, 350. $26.00 paperback.) Kreider, Alan. The Patient Ferment of the Early Church: The Improbable Rise of Christianity in the Roman Empire. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic. 2016. Pp. xiv, 322. $29.99 paperback). Mally, Edward A., C. S. C. Monk’s Tale: The Presidential Years, 1987–2005. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. 2016. Pp. 366. $29.00.) McCranor, Timothy, and Steven Michels (Eds.). Science Fiction and Political Philosophy: From Bacon to Black Mirror. (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books. 2020. Pp. viii, 242. $95.00.) OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED 659 Mathewson, David L. Revelation: A Handbook on the Greek Text. (Waco: Baylor University Press. 2016. Pp. xxx, 338. $34.99 paperback.) Muneroni, Stefano (Ed. and Trans.). Sforza Pallavicino: Martyr Hermenegild. (Toronto, Ont.: Centre for Renaissance and Reformation Studies. 2019. Pp. 105. $21.95 paperback.) Nederman, Cary J. The Bonds of Humanity: Cicero’s Legacies in European Social and Political Thought, ca. 1100–ca. 1550. (University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press. 2020. Pp. xviii, 220. $79.95.) Newman, Nicholas. The Political Works of Remigius Dei Girolami. (Belleville, IL: Saint Dominic’s Media. 2018. Pp. 230. $12.95 paperback.) Oropeza, B.J., and Steve Moyise (Eds.). Exploring Intertextuality: Diverse Strategies for New Testament Interpretation of Texts. (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2016. Pp. xix, 326. $40.00.) Peterson, Mark. The City-State of Boston: The Rise and Fall of an Atlantic Power, 1630–1865. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. 2019. Pp. xx, 741. $39.95.) Post, Gaines. The Papacy and the Rise of the Universities. Edited with a Preface by William J. Courtney. [Education and Society in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, Vol. 54.] (Boston, MA: Brill. 2017. Pp. xii, 263. $25.00.) Preest, David (Trans.), and Harriet R. Webster (Ed). The Annals of Dunstable Priory. (Woodbridge, Suffolk: The Boydell Press. 2018. Pp. xlviii, 304. $130.00.) Reynolds, Gabriel Said. Allah: God in the Qur’an. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. 2020. Pp. xi, 327. $30.00.) Roberts, Mark D. The Story of God Bible Commentary: Ephesians. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic. 2016. Pp. xvi, 280. $29.99.) Schedl, Barbara. St. Stephan in Wien: Der Bau der gotischen Kirche (1200– 1500). (Vienna: Böhlau Verlag. 2018. Pp. 324. €32,00.) Schilling, Beate. Gallia pontificia. Vol. III: Province ecclésiastique de Vienne. Tome II: Diocèses de Grenoble et de Valence. [Regesta Pontificum Romanorum.] (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Distributed by ISD, Bristol, CT. 2018. Pp. 459. €140,00.) 660 OTHER BOOKS RECEIVED Schilling, Beate. Gallia pontificia. Vol. III: Province ecclésiastique de Vienne. Tome III: Diocèses de Die et de Vivers. [Regesta Pontificum Romanorum.] (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Distributed by ISD, Bristol, CT. 2018. Pp. 362. €120,00.) Spicer, Kevin S., and Martina Cucchiara (Eds. and Trans.). The Evil that Surrounds Us: The WWII Memoir of Erna Becker-Kohen. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 2017. Pp. x, 164. $25.00.) Taranto, Stacie. Kitchen Table Politics: Conservative Women and Family Values in New York. [Politics and Culture in Modern America.] (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2017. Pp. x, 286. $59.95.) Totah, Mary David OSB. The Joy of God: Collected Writings. (London: Bloomsbury Publishing. 2019. Pp. xviii, 190. £12.99 paperback.) Watt, David Harrington. Anti-Fundamentalism in Modern America. (Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 2017. Pp. 240. $27.95.)