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Electronic Theses, Treatises and Dissertations The Graduate School

2013 Christina of Markyate and the St. Albans : The Book as Container Erin Dee Moore

Follow this and additional works at the FSU Digital Library. For more information, please contact [email protected] THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY

COLLEGE OF ARTS AND SCIENCES

CHRISTINA OF MARKYATE AND THE ST. ALBANS PSALTER:

THE BOOK AS CONTAINER

By

ERIN DEE MOORE

A Dissertation submitted to the Program in Interdisciplinary Humanities in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Awarded: Spring Semester, 2013

Erin Dee Moore defended this dissertation on March 29, 2013.

The members of the supervisory committee were:

David F. Johnson Professor Directing Dissertation

Elaine M. Treharne Professor Co-Directing Dissertation

Robert Romanchuk University Representation

Paula Gerson Committee Member

Charles Brewer Committee Member

The Graduate School has verified and approved the above-named committee members, and certifies that the dissertation has been approved in accordance with university requirements.

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I dedicated this to my parents.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract ...... v

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

CHAPTER ONE...... 18

CHAPTER TWO ...... 49

CHAPTER THREE ...... 78

CHAPTER FOUR...... 104

CHAPTER FIVE ...... 131

CHAPTER SIX...... 154

CONCLUSION ...... 175

APPENDIX

A. THE TEXTS IN THE ST. ALBANS PSALTER ...... 179

B. IMAGES...... 181

REFERENCES ...... 186

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ...... 197

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ABSTRACT

This dissertation examines the St. Albans Psalter and the woman for whom scholars think it was made, Christina of Markyate. This study tries to reconstruct a potential reading of the

Psalter as seen through Christina’s eyes and focuses particularly on the historiated initials for

Psalms 36, 51, 67:20, and 118:33 in the St. Albans Psalter. This study also sees the Psalter as possessing a specific agenda that was designed to warn of the dangers of female sexuality and to redirect Christina’s religious life to an appropriate path. The reconstructed reading, then, attempts to show that Christina provided resistance to the spiritual path designed for her.

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INTRODUCTION

Christina of Markyate was a twelfth-century woman religious who most likely owned the

St. Albans Psalter (Hildesheim, Dombibliothek, St Godehard I), a post-Conquest book produced at St. Albans in the twelfth century. Many scholars have devoted time to studying the St. Albans

Psalter, and they all reach a general consensus about it. Created in the twelfth century, this

Psalter is unique and praised most of all for its lavish illustrative program.

A relatively small manuscript, the St. Albans Psalter measures 27.6 x 18.4 cm, and it has

209 folios. Fundamentally, it is a book of , however, as a biblical psalter, this book contains more than just the psalms.1 The St. Albans Psalter has traditional components such as a liturgical calendar, creeds and prayers, the Canticles, the Litany, and Computistical Tables. In addition to these conventional units, the manuscript has 211 historiated initials, forty full-page miniatures about the Life of Christ, a vita of St. Alexis in Anglo-Norman, a letter from Gregory the Great that defends the use of images, three illustrations of Christ at Emmaus, a treatise on

Good and Evil, the Beatus Vir that marks the beginning of the psalms, and a diptych that depicts the martyrdoms of St. Alban and the Musician.

The first owner of the Psalter is generally seen as Christina of Markyate, although this surmise is by no means secure. According to The Life of Christina of Markyate (c. 1151-1167),2

Christina was born in the late eleventh century in Huntington to Auti and Beatrice, English

1 Biblical contain more material than the psalms; they often append supplementary prayers to the psalter, prefatory texts, a litany, and a calendar. Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 16. 2 Rodney M. Thomson attributes The Life of Christina of Markyate to Abbot Robert de Gorron’s reign at St. Albans (1151-67). Manuscripts from Abbey: 1066-1235, vol. 1, Text (Woodridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 49. 1

landholders and merchants.3 As a child, she promised herself to Christ and vowed to serve him at

St. Albans. Because her parents wanted her to marry, Christina ran away from home to begin her religious life in hiding, first in the cell of a recluse named Alfwyn and then with Roger, a hermit associated with St. Albans. Christina inherited Roger’s cell, Markyate, after his death, and it became a small community for women. Although Markyate was not officially dependent on St.

Albans, Christina had a strong friendship with Geoffrey, the abbot of St. Albans. The vita, The

Life of Christina of Markyate, was never finished.

The author of the vita from St. Albans took great pains to present Christina as a saint in the hagiographic tradition, but he also added experiential details that make Christina seem real.

The Life seems to move from a hagiography to a biography in which the reader is privy to

Christina’s thoughts and intimate, sometimes grotesque, knowledge of her life. Readers learn, for example that Christina lived in a cell barely large enough to accommodate her, she developed a digestive disorder which dried up her intestines, and she was tormented by demonic toads that hopped on her psalter.4 Due to these vivid descriptions, readers may be led to believe that the

Life has more truth than fabrication in it, and that it is a personal account rather than a work following a literary formula.

Although the Life may seem real to us, it is still ultimately a text with a specific purpose: to prove Christina’s sanctity. As a result readers should approach the narrative with caution. The hagiographer would have been more concerned with presenting Christina as saintly than with portraying her faithfully. Therefore, he makes Christina seem like she does nothing more than weep, fall on the floor, and faint, like a stereotypical, hysterical woman. The hagiographer wants

3 C. H. Talbot, The Life of Christina of Markyate, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), vi. The Life exists only in a fourteenth century manuscript: , MS. Cotton Tiberius E. I. (Ibid. xxvi). 4 Ibid., 38-40 2

readers to believe that Christina was saintly, submissive to male clerical superiors, and loved St.

Albans. These qualities might have been true. However, a close reading of the Life shows that

Christina also could be stubborn, independent, and self-righteous. The Life describes how

Christina reprimanded fellow women at Markyate, how she seemed reluctant to profess her vows, and how she felt lust for an unnamed cleric.5 It is hard to reconcile these disparate characteristics and envision a Christina who is both maudlin and submissive yet determined and rebellious.

While attempting to puzzle out the real Christina, scholars might consider the reliability of the narrator. By the author’s own omission, Christina was not always cooperative. She would frequently fall silent during conversation or speak in proverbs.6 Moreover, Christina often would have her sister, Margaret, speak for her.7 Scholars cannot discount the possibility that the St.

Albans monk assumed or embellished information about her. According to E.A. Jones,

Christina’s contemporaries frequently presupposed information about her: “Prelates, fellow- hermits, and members of her own family all approached her with a peculiar set of preconceptions, but came away from the encounter having had those assumptions challenged and in many cases confounded.”8 Wherever his sources came from, it is clear that even the biographer had difficulty discovering the real Christina.

Most scholars face a similar problem—they have difficulty discovering Christina’s identity. Instead, they must resort to speculation, and this is wide-ranging. For example, Diane

5 Talbot, The Life. See pages 47-8, 63, and 87 for examples. 6 Ibid. See pages 60, 64, 68, and 77 for examples. 7 Ibid., 62. The biographer also spoke to other members of Christina’s family. At the end of the Life, the author spoke to Matilda, another sister of Christina, and she related a vision that Christina had about her (Ibid., 88). 8 E.A. Jones, “Christina of Markyate and the Hermits and Anchorites of ,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser ( and New York: Routledge, 2005), 237. 3

Watt and Douglas Gray focus on Christina as a mediator between the Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-

French cultures.9 Examining her religious vocation, Jones asserts that Christina was a hermit, but

Henrietta Leyser argues that she was not an anchorite.10 Dyan Elliot, on the other hand, states that Christina might have seen herself as Geoffrey’s spiritual director.11 Rachel Koopmans advances the most polemical version of Christina as a women who treated others harshly and potentially may have manipulated Geoffrey for financial gain. 12

It is clear that little consensus can be reached about Christina’s identity. Based on the nature of the hagiographic genre, inconsistencies in the representation of Christina in the Life, and scholarship on the Life I could posit a different version of her:

1. The Foundation Charter of Markyate states that no one may interfere with the lives of the

woman and Markyate and that their way of life cannot be changed without their

approval. 13 This charter, her vow of virginity, and her doubts about her profession all

point to an independent spirit, one that does not always heed authority, particularly

masculine authority. 14

9 Diane Watt, “Christina of Markyate (c. 1096-after1155),” Medieval Women’s Writing: Works by and for Women in England, 1100-1500 (Cambridge: Polity, 2007), 20; Douglas Gray, “Christina of Markyate: The Literary Background,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge: 2005), 18. 10 Jones, “Christina and Hermits,” 236-37; Henrietta Leyser, “Christina of Markyate: The Introduction,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 6. 11 Dyan Elliott, “Alternative Intimacies: Men, women and spiritual direction in the twelfth century,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 172. 12 Rachel Koopmans, “Dining at Markyate with Lady Christina,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 156. 13 Leyser, “Christina of Markyate,” 6-7. 14 For evidence about her vow and details about her profession, see pages 6 and 63 in the Life. 4

2. Her meditation on the Psalms, her visions, and her intuitive knowledge as evidenced in

the Life as well as her ownership of the Psalter indicate that she was a holy woman who

valued religion, prayer, and reading.

3. Based on scholarship from Rachel Koopmans and analysis of the Life, she seems to have

been headstrong. She frequently refused to cooperate with others, namely with her

parents in their attempts to marry her, with her biographer, and with Geoffrey. There are

also undertones in the Life that she did not get along well with other women religious

such as Alfwyn and Godit.15

4. The Life and implicitly the foundation charter suggest that she was intelligent and clever.

She escaped from numerous rape attempts, she planned her own escape from her home,

she wrangled her own terms for her foundation charter, and she argued Scripture with

Bishop Fredebertus.16

Rather than weeping and praying until she faints, Christina may have been a strong woman who knew what she wanted. She may have had a private interior life, shared only with

God, that she strived to maintain and guard against human intrusion. As an intelligent person, she may have seen herself as a spiritual guru, leading others in faith and prayer but needing no human instruction herself. Finally, her independence and abrasive nature may lead us believe that she wanted a unique version of spirituality, perhaps one akin to a hermitess or vowess.

Uncovering some truth about Christina may seem futile, but it is necessary in order to analyze the St. Albans Psalter as her text. The mental image scholars have of Christina determines not only how this holy is viewed but also how interpretations of her in the manuscript are viewed. For example, it would be difficult to prove that Christina subverted masculine

15 Koopmans, “Dining at Markyate with Christina,” 146-47. 16 Talbot, The Life. See pages 11-12, 17, and 31 for examples. 5

authority while seeing her as a submissive women who aids Geoffrey in all things. If an alternative Christina can be posited, new ways of analyzing the Psalter and reconstructing how she would have read it, can be sought. In the next section, I will briefly cover the evidence that connects Christina to the Psalter.

Christina and the St. Albans Psalter

Despite years of scholarship on Christina, it is still difficult to establish her identity.

Similar to disagreements about who she is, scholars often argue about the book’s association to her or the extent to which the two should be connected.

This discussion is problematized due to the nature of the manuscript: It was most likely made piecemeal over the course of two decades.17 As such the book is a composite. This fact is important when considering Christina and her ownership of the book. As a composite book, evidence must be found in each section of the Psalter to prove that the entire manuscript was made for Christina. Scholars have generally relied on evidence in the calendar and from the re made the connection to the prioress of Markyate. This does little more, however, than to prove that the calendar was made or adapted for Christina; it does not tell us about the intended recipient of the miniatures, Alexis Quire, or psalter.

The relationship between Christina of Markyate and the St. Albans Psalter was initially posited by Adolph Goldschmidt in 1895.18 Goldschmidt’s conclusions were speculative because,

17 See chapter two for a thorough dating of each section of the Psalter. 18 Adolf Goldschmidt, Der Albani-Psalter in Hildesheim und seine Beziehung zur symbolischen Kirchensculptur des XII.Jahrhunderts, Berlin, 1895. 6

Francis Wormald notes, he did not have the necessary resources to solidify his claim. 19 Since

1960, when Wormald, Otto Pacht, and C.R. Dodwell published their collaborative work on the

Psalter, the connection between the recluse and the book has solidified.20 Scholars generally now

operate under the assumption that the Psalter was created for her, so much so in fact that some

scholars like Morgan Powell have begun referring to it as the Psalter of Christina of Markyate.21

Jane Geddes summarizes the conclusions critical inquiries have reached: “The theme to have

emerged most prominently from current investigations is this: in almost all aspects, the Psalter is

a book created for Christina.”22 Moreover, a recent publication on Christina of Markyate, a

collection of essays called Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, uses an

image from the Psalter on its cover. Despite this consensus, debates continue to rage about how

valid this conclusion is and what it means.

Because only the calendar offers overt evidence to prove Christina’s ownership of the

Psalter, scholars often then turn to the Life hoping to find the Psalter mentioned there. However,

it is absent from the narrative. The Life does mention an unnamed psalter which Christina read

when she lived with Alfwyn: toads “squatted here and there, settling themselves right in the

middle of the Psalter which lay open on the lap of the Bride of Christ for her use at all hours.”23

This is the first mention in the Life that Christina had a psalter or used it in her devotions.

19 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), vii. Wormald mentions that Goldschmidt did not have access to Christina’s vita. Indeed, C.H. Talbot first published his edition of the life in 1959. 20 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005): 295. 21 Powell wrote an article entitled, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St Albans Psalter).” 22 Jane Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 197. 23 Talbot, The Life, 38. 7

Scholars have assumed that this psalter was her “first” psalter and was one she brought from home even though the physical evidence of such a book is missing. The narrative itself does not state that Christina brought a psalter with her when she escaped from her parents’ house. This

“first” psalter may have been Christina’s, but it is just as likely that it was Alfwyn’s. Whether or not this unnamed psalter was the St. Albans Psalter cannot be determined, but it probably was not. The psalter appears in the narrative before Christina had a connection with St. Albans, where the book was produced.

Rather than looking furtively through the Life for a reference to the Psalter, scholars should first ask themselves why it would even be mentioned in the first place. Modern scholars see the Psalter as a work of art and a grand achievement; as such, they expect it to be in the narrative. Given the purpose of the hagiographic genre, its presence was not mandatory.

Mentioning a manuscript in a hagiographic narrative was not the norm either. In fact, this usually only happened in the case of a gift to or from royalty. 24

There are several other possible reasons for this omission. First, the narrative is not complete. As a consequence, the biographer might not have mentioned the Psalter before his narrative stopped. Second, the Life omits other details which scholars deem important, such as the founding of Markyate Priory. 25 A third possibility is that the Psalter was made piecemeal over the course of Christina’s religious career, a possibility that Morgan Powell posits and with which I concur in chapter two.26 As a composite, the Psalter would have been made in sections

24 Christopher De Hamel, A History of Illuminated Manuscripts (New York: Phaidon, 2006), 48- 9. 25 Sally Thompson, Women Religious: The Founding of English Nunneries after the (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991), 17. 26 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005), 301. 8

and then sewn together gradually over time.27 Consequently, as a work in progress, the book as a whole might not have warranted mention, especially if it replaced worn-out portions of

Christina’s old psalter, as Powell maintains. Finally, mentioning the manuscript might not have served an ideological purpose in advancing Christina’s claim to sanctity. After all, it would neither have proven her sanctity nor provided a testament of her miracles and visions.

Learning more about Christina and her relationship to the Psalter is fundamental to this study. Without theorizing who I think Christina was, I cannot hope to determine how she would have read the manuscript and without thoroughly linking the Psalter to her, I cannot prove that an agenda was created in the Psalter for her. In the next section, I will explore the thesis and methodology of this dissertation.

My Argument

This dissertation will reconstruct one possible reading of the St. Albans Psalter as seen through Christina’s eyes. The idea for this study came from Jane Geddes’ article entitled “The

St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress.” In this article, Geddes provides a chart of positive and negative illustrations of women in the Psalm initials, which drew my attention to four psalm initials which, Geddes contends, depict women in negative ways: Psalm 36 (image 1, p. 140), Psalm 51 (image 2, p. 173), Psalm 67:20 (image 3, p. 200), and Psalm 118:33 (image 4, p. 315).28 These initials focus on women as temptations to men or as personifications of lust and pride.

27 I discuss the St. Albans Psalter as a composite manuscript in chapter 2. 28 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 202. Psalm 31 can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page140.shtml. Psalm 51 can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml. Psalm 67:20 can be 9

This dissertation sprang from an inquiry about these initials and the reason for their inclusion. With Christina as a recipient, I wondered how she would have interpreted these initials. Would she have condemned these women as fallen beings given to lives of sin? Would she have been induced to lead a holier life in fear that she could end up like them? Or, would she have identified with these women as sinful temptations to men? At first glance, there does not seem to be a reason for their inclusion in the St. Albans Psalter. There are neither textual references nor iconographic precedents for these women.

After pondering the microcosm of these four initials, I started to look for clues about their inclusion in the rest of the Psalter. I quickly discovered that despite these negative portraits, there are many positive portrayals of the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and unidentified holy women. These positive images focus on activities such as reading or praying, acting as an intercessor, nursing infants or caring for others in a maternal way. They also show a preference for enclosure. Many positive images clearly show women inside buildings, under roofs, or behind curtains. For the most part, the Psalter aligns “good” women with enclosure while “bad” women are outside or are in some type of intedeterminate space.

The juxtaposition of these holy and sinful portrayals of women led me to believe that the

Psalter has an agenda for Christina. Its visual program seems to function to mould and redirect

Christina’s spirituality by showing her positive images of how to behave and negative ones of behavior to avoid. Four roles or duties become apparent: 1) read / pray, 2) remain enclosed, 3) nurture other women religious at Markyate, and 4) listen to male ecclesiastics for spiritual direction. Despite these “objectives,” Christina may have created her own interpretations given

found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml. Psalm 118:33 can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml 10

the fact that she seemed reluctant to follow the directions of others. With a different view of

Christina, I can theorize that she may have disregarded the visual program laid out for her study.

Similar to her personality, Christina’s reading and interpretive practices cannot be

accurately determined. Evidence from the Life and the Psalter can provide some clues about how

Christina read. The Life mentions at least two specific moments when Christina read. In the first,

Christina had just escaped from home. Shortly after entering Alfwyn’s cell, Christina “took” the

37th Psalm for her reading.29 She seemed to focus on about five verses and closely study them.

The Life tells us that she frequently repeated one of these verses and kept it in her mind.30 In the

second instance, Christina was deep in meditation when toads assaulted her cell and started

“squatting” on her psalter.31 She does not break her meditation or allow herself to be distracted

by the toads. Christina seems to have followed a medieval style of reading in which she

internalized and chewed on what she read, going over it in her mind.32

To prove this larger argument of the Psalter’s agenda and Christina’s reaction to it, I refer

to evidence from primary texts like the vita and the digitized version of the St. Albans Psalter. I

also refer to historical information about twelfth-century treatment of women and views on

female sexuality proposed by theologians and clerics. Finally, I rely upon other illustrated

psalters as comparative models, most notably the Utrecht Psalter but also early twelfth century

manuscripts such as the Shaftesbury Psalter. Of course, secondary texts and scholarship from

scholars informs this study as well.

29 Talbot, The Life, 35. 30 Ibid. 31 Ibid., 38. 32 For more information on reading as meditation, see Mary Carruthers, The Craft of Thought: Meditation, Rhetoric, and the Making of Images, 400-1200 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).

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Similar to feminist scholars who attempt to recover the lost voices of women, this study tries to reconstruct a bygone female voice. Scholars have information about how women were treated in the twelfth century: they were devalued, seen as sexually rapacious, forced into enclosure or servitude, and served as scapegoats in the papal attempts to disband clerical marriages. Our information about how these women reacted is scant. By studying Christina, her potential interactions with the Psalter, and the religious climate of the time, I can seek to reconstruct how one disenfranchised woman may have reacted to masculine attempts at control over her life.

This discussion will be described in more detail in the seven chapters which follow.

The Chapters

Chapter one offers a broad and expansive overview of Christianity, the role of the Psalter, and women religious in the early and high . This chapter lays the groundwork for this study and allows us to situate Christina and the Psalter in their historical context. The chapter is split into three parts. First, it traces the development of the liturgy and the role of the psalter in the Opus Dei. In the second section, I explore the changing nature of women religious and their roles in the Church from powerful abbesses in the early Middle Ages to enclosed nuns in the High Middle Ages. Finally, the third section presents information about female literacy and the genres of books studied by women.

Moving from the general discussion in chapter one, a specific and focused analysis ensues in chapter two. Chapter two serves to familiarize us with St. Albans scriptorium and its books. Referring to the work of Rodney Thomson, this chapter first describes the growth of the scriptorium under the abbots Paul of Caen, Richard d’Aubigny, and Geoffrey Gorron, and the

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books produced during their reigns. The chapter then shifts into a codicological analysis of the

St. Albans Psalter.

Because the St. Albans Psalter is an illustrated manuscript, an explanation of art and its function within manuscripts is necessary. Chapter three briefly explores the history of early

Christian art, medieval theories about art and illustration, and common representations of the

Virgin Mary over time. Close attention is paid to Gregory the Great and his supposed notion that illustration equates to “books for the illiterate.” This focus on Gregory is important not only because his ideas on art were quoted throughout the rest of the Middle Ages but also because one of his letters appears in the St. Albans Psalter. Besides discussing illustrative theories, the chapter also covers the types of decoration that could appear in a manuscript. The use of exemplars, illustrative traditions, and iconography are briefly touched upon. Finally, the end of the chapter advances my own ideas on iconography and focuses on how words and images must be given equal weight in analyzing an illustrated manuscript. I suggest that decoration in a book intended for women does not mean that the women in question were illiterate. Illustration should be viewed as an aid to contemplation rather than a crutch of illiteracy.

The letter of Gregory the Great has often been used to prove that images were used for illiterate individuals. The presence of the letter in the Psalter has led scholars to believe that

Christina was not literate or that the Psalter was used as a didactic tool. Chapter four begins by discussing the nature of Christina’s literacy and seeks to disprove arguments about Christina’s lack of Latin learning.

After establishing Christina’s literacy, the remainder of chapter four and the entirety of chapter five focus on the relationship of Christina to the Psalter. As I have briefly touched upon, there is still a great deal of contention over which parts of the Psalter were created specifically

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for Christina. In these chapters, I build upon the codicological evidence presented in chapter two, and I provide evidence for why each section of the book was created or adapted for Christina.

This discussion is important because I must first establish a solid connection of the book to

Christina before I can theorize about the Psalter’s message for her.

Chapter six offers a detailed description of the Psalter’s agenda and how Christina may have reacted to the Psalter’s message. The chapter first delves into the lives and clerical perceptions of women religious in the twelfth century. Close attention is paid to the heightened focus on female sexuality by twelfth-century theologians and clerics. This information forms the basis of my analysis of the four negative initials and the agenda as a whole. Having an understanding of the Psalter’s agenda, I can begin to reconstruct a potential rereading from

Christina’s perspective. Based on Christina’s unique personality, independence, and reading skills, she could have been in a position to create her own meaning from the book while understanding yet disregarding the intended message.

While chapter six examines the intended message in the Psalter and Christina’s reaction to it, the conclusion explores what Christina might have wanted for her own life. The conclusion ends the dissertation by speculating on how Christina might have lived her life if she had not been constrained by social and religious norms.

Accessing the Digitized Psalter

The St. Albans Psalter has recently been digitized by a team of scholars working in association with the University of Aberdeen. Known as the St. Albans Psalter Project, this endeavor has made all 209 folios of the St. Albans Psalter accessible in full color reproduction.

This team, headed by Jane Geddes, has supplemented the digital images with a transcription and translation of each page, commentary, and essays.

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As a reproduction, the online facsimile does have disadvantages as all reproductions do, but they do not impede this study. Overall, the digital edition is convenient and easily accessible.

As long as I have a computer and Internet access, I can work on the manuscript. In fact, I can spend as much time with this reproduction as I want. Because it is digitized, I am not necessarily limited by time, meaning that I do not need to hastily complete my examination of the manuscript in a short visit to Germany. Ultimately, the digital edition is helpful and without it, I may have never encountered the St. Albans Psalter or even known of its existence. The online facsimile of the Psalter has not only exposed me to the Psalter, it has given me an opportunity to work on the manuscript from a distance, obviating the need to overcome financial and geographical obstacles.

Because this study uses the online facsimile, a brief introduction to this website will be helpful. The home page for the English version can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stablanspsalter/english/index.shtml. On the home page, there is a table of contents with hyperlinks: Introduction, Commentary, Transcription & Translation, Essays,

Acknowledgements, Copyright, and Editorial Conventions. The introduction offers an overview of the website, the Psalter and its importance, and a brief summary of Christina’s life. The production and dating of the Psalter are touched upon. Additional information can be found in the Essays link. The essays link provides brief essays on the Psalter and commentary on it. These include Codicology, The Personalities, The Scribes, The Artists, The Calendar, The Miniatures,

The Alexis Quire, The Initials, Conclusion, The Debate, and Bibliography. These essays were written by the editorial team and represent the views of Jane Geddes. These essays are a helpful starting place for information about the Psalter, its production, its dating, and scholarship on it.

Acknowledgements states who worked on the Psalter and what they contributed to the project.

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Copyright contains the rules about downloading and reproduction of the images contained on the site. Editorial conventions addresses the translation and transcription of the text.

The commentary and translation and transcription links will be most helpful for this study. The commentary link provides a look at each digitized page in the Psalter with commentary by Jane Geddes next to it. The commentary mode is helpful for providing information about the quire the page is in and for sometimes offering a bifolio image. The transcription and translation link is similar to the commentary one. Instead of offering analysis on the text, initial, or miniature, it provides a transcription of the words on the page (where applicable) and an English translation, undertaken by Sue Niebrzydowski.

Navigating from one page to another is easiest when using the commentary link. After clicking on commentary, the first page of the Psalter is displayed. Above this image are links for

“previous,” “transcription & translation,” and “next.” The previous and next links will take the viewer to the previous or the next digital page of the Psalter on the website. The transcription and translation link will switch the paratext from commentary to a transcription of the page. The image stays the same during this change.

On the bottom of the page is a dropdown menu. 33 This menu is the easiest way to navigate through the Psalter. It is important to note that not all page are listed in the dropdown menu. For example, for Psalm 118.33, the viewer must click on Psalm 118 in the menu. This will take the viewer to page 312, which displays an initial for the first verse of the Psalm. In order to reach page 315, which contains 118.33, the viewer must use the “next” link.

33 The dropdown menu only seems to work when the Commentary link is used. The dropdown menu does not work when viewing the Psalter in the Transcription and Translation mode. In addition, the dropdown menu does not work in the web browser Firefox. I would recommend using either Safari or Internet Explorer in order to more easily navigate through the pages. 16

The images referenced in this dissertation can be found at the University of Aberdeen website. In the text, I have indicated on which page in the manuscript the illustrations are located. I have also provided the pertinent URLs in footnotes.

This introduction has offered an overview of this study, the St. Albans Psalter, Christina of Markyate, and the online facsimile by the University of Aberdeen. In the chapters which follow, I will show how the St. Albans Psalter might have been created for Christina of

Markyate, and how she might have read it.

17

CHAPTER ONE

This chapter offers a general overview of the psalter, the liturgy, female sanctity, and women’s literacy in the early and High Middle Ages until the middle of the twelfth century. 34

Indispensible to women religious, the Psalter would have been a necessary component to

Christina’s life and thus a discussion of its use and purpose is discussed in this chapter. It is important to note that the Middle Ages was not homogeneous or uniform. Thus, what may be true for the early medieval period, might be incorrect for the later medieval period.

The Psalter and Opus Dei

A religion of the book, Christianity required numerous volumes in order to enact the liturgy. 35 There were three types of liturgical books: books for information and instruction, books for use in the Office, and books for use at Mass.36 Books for information and instruction include

34 This chapter has a large scope and some topics are not discussed in great detail. I have attempted to point out additional scholarship in the footnotes. 35 John Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy: From the Tenth to the Eighteenth Century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 58. Harper writes, “Throughout the Middle Ages most of those in choir sang their parts of the Office and Mass from memory. Before the spread of the personal Breviary and Missal and the emergence of commercial workshops committed to bulk copying (especially in the fifteenth century), only those members of the community who needed a book had one. And it was common before the thirteenth century for a book to contain only those parts of the liturgy relevant to a single officiant in a service: at sung Mass the texts might therefore be shared out among the contents of as many as six to eight interdependent books. Most surviving liturgical books were source copies used only for reference, teaching, or copying” (Ibid., 58). Extant liturgical books survive in varying numbers. According to Christopher De Hamel, “minor liturgical books have seldom survived from the twelfth century: constant use, obsolescence, and religious reformation have caused the loss of all but a few precious scraps of English Romanesque liturgy.” A History of Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts (New York: Phaidon Press, 2006), 82. Indeed, many liturgical books that survived from the twelfth century were destroyed during the Reformation (Ibid., 83). 36 Harper, The Forms and Orders, 59. 18

the Statutes, Calendar, Ordinal, and Consuetudinary or Customary, and the Tonary. 37 Books used in the Office included the Breviary, Antiphonal, and Choir Psalter.38 Sacramentaries were used by bishops and priests; they included instructions on the structure of the liturgy and the required prayers for Mass.39

Although many texts were used in the liturgy, no book was consulted more than the psalter. In its simplest form, the psalter contains the Books of Psalms from the .40

There were two types of psalters in the Middle Ages: a biblical psalter and a liturgical psalter.

The biblical psalter presented the psalms in chronological order, the same as they would appear in the Bible. The liturgical psalter, however, rearranged the psalms depending on the way they were sung in the Divine Office. In addition to these two types of psalters, the glossed psalter can be added, a book which incorporates monastic and/or scholastic commentary along with the text

37 Ibid., 60-61. 38 Ibid., 61. 39 P.M. Gy, “History of the Liturgy in the West to the Council of Trent,” in The Church at Prayer: An Introduction to the Liturgy, ed. Aime George Martimont et al, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell, new ed. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1987), 1:47-49. 40 Michelle Brown, Understanding Illuminated Manuscripts: A Guide to Technical Terms (Los Angeles, CA: J. Paul Getty, 1994), 103.

19

of the psalms.41 As the medieval period progressed, the contents of the psalter grew to include items such as a liturgical calendar, hymns, canticles, and prayers.42

Three versions of the psalter circulated in the medieval period: the Roman, Gallican, and

Hebrew Psalters were three distinct translations undertaken by . Jerome’s first translation, the Roman Psalter, was made at some point between 383 and 384.43 Jerome revised his Roman version by comparing it to Greek texts and the Hexapla, and his efforts produced his second translation known as the Gallican Psalter, so-called due to its use in Gaul. 44 Years later, after studying Hebrew extensively, Jerome made his Hebrew Psalter by translating directly from

Hebrew into Latin. 45 Two Latin translations have typically been used in the liturgy: the Roman

Psalter and the Gallican Psalter.46 The Gallican Psalter was the most widely used.47

41 Jean LeClercq distinguishes between scholastic and monastic commentary: “Scholastic commentary furnishes, in a clear, generally concise style, a doctrine addressed to the intelligence. Monastic commentary is addressed to the whole being; its aim is to touch the heart rather than to instruct the mind. It is often written in a fervent style which expresses an inner rhythm which the author wants to communicate to his readers. Scholastic commentary is almost always complete; it explains the entire ‘letter’ of the sacred text. Monastic commentary is often incomplete.” The Love of Learning and The Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture, trans. Catharine Misrahi (New York: Fordham University Press, 1982), 84-5. It is important to note that the glossed psalter held great interest for Anglo-Saxons from the tenth century to the end of the twelfth century. According to Christopher De Hamel, the Book of Psalms was one of the earliest glossed books of the Bible, appearing around 1100. The Book: A History of the Bible (London and New York: Phaidon Press, 2001),108. 42 George H. Brown, “The Psalms as the Foundation of Anglo-Saxon Learning,” in The Place of the Psalms in the Intellectual Culture of the Middle Ages, ed. Nancy van Deusen (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999), 6. 43 De Hamel, The Book: A History of the Bible, 17. 44 Ibid., 18. 45 Ibid. 46 S.J.P Van Dijk, “The Bible in Liturgical Use,” in The West from the Father to the Reformation, vol. 2, The Cambridge History of the Bible, ed. G.W.H. Lampe. (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1969), 237. 47 Kristine Haney, The St. Albans Psalter: An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith (New York: Peter Lang, 2002), 11. 20

As a consequence of these different versions of the psalms, the psalter can be numbered in two different ways due to translations of the Bible, first from Hebrew into Greek (the

Septuagint) and later from Hebrew into Latin (the Vulgate).48 The Vulgate was the “popular” version of the Bible which was predominate during the Middle Ages; it consists of Jerome’s final version of the Bible in addition to apocryphal texts in Old Latin.49 Although the Hebrew and

Latin versions both include 150 psalms, these psalms have been divided at four points differently: “Hebrew Psalm 9 and 10 are treated as one psalm in the Vulgate (9), as are Psalms

114 and 115 (Vulgate 113); but Hebrew Psalms 116 and 147 were each subdivided into two separate psalms in the Vulgate (respectively 114, 115, and 146, 147).”50

The psalter had several different but interrelated uses in the Middle Ages. Throughout the

Middle Ages and at different periods, the psalter was used both for monastic and lay audiences.

Not only was the psalter important for the Divine Office, but additionally for personal or private devotion and education. In a monastic setting, monks were required to memorize the entire psalter, a process that took on average two or three years.51 More generally, the psalter served as

48 Harper, The Forms and Orders, 67-68. 49 De Hamel, The Book: A History of the Bible, 21. De Hamel describes the Vulgate as a hybrid text, one that combines Jerome’s revisions and translations with biblical texts deemed apocryphal by Jerome: “Jerome’s Bible, pruned against the Hebrew original, proved too purified for public acceptance. At some early stage, as it came to be copied and recopied and as it entered the life of the Latin-speaking Church . . . [n]ot only were the apocryphal texts reinstated into their old places, but the form in which they re-entered the Bible was none other than that of the archaic Old Latin. Texts like Wisdom, Ecclesiasticus, I-II Maccabees and others slipped back into Jerome’s edition, in exactly the wording of a translation so corrupt that it had inspired Pope Damasus to appoint Jerome in the first place” (Ibid.). Only in the 6th century did the Vulgate begin to outnumber Old Latin manuscripts of the Bible (Ibid., 28). 50 Ibid., 68. 51Brown, “The Psalms as the Foundation of Anglo-Saxon Learning,” 4; Haney, The St. Albans Psalter, 187. 21

a primer for those who could not read.52 If a person knew how to read, he or she knew the

psalter.53 Even women learned how to read by using the psalter, a fact that is demonstrated by

feminine forms in psalters such as the Salisbury Psalter (969-987).54

As has already been mentioned, the psalter contained the Psalms. The Book of Psalms

served a crucial role in the Christian liturgy even though the text predated Christianity. Medieval

Christians did not experience qualms about using a book from the Old Testament for worship

because of how they interpreted the text. According to Jean LeClercq, “The time of the law

(tempus legis) and the time of grace (tempus gratiae) are different stages of one and the same

salvation, and each of them includes, over and above the scriptural texts, the sum of the realities

told us in these texts.”55 On a literal level, the Old Testament records the history of Israel, but if the text is read in a prophetic or typological context, it can be viewed as a text that speaks about

Christ.56 As a consequence, the Psalms were interpreted as a group of prophecies which came to fruition during the ministry of Jesus.57

Commentaries on the Psalms, written by the Church Fathers, helped Christians to interpret the text in a Christian context.58 Referring to Philo and the apostle Paul, Origen (ca.

185-254) theorized the four-fold interpretation of scripture:59 the historical, allegorical, moral,

52 Joseph Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” Speculum 64, no. 3 (July 1989): 535. 53 Haney, The St. Albans Psalter, 187. 54 Brown, “The Psalms as the Foundation of Anglo-Saxon Learning,” 16-18. 55 LeClercq, The Love of Learning, 80-81. 56 Van Dijk, “The Bible in Liturgical Use,” 221. 57 Dyer, “The Psalms in Monastic Prayer,” in The Place of the Psalms in the Intellectual Culture of the Middle Ages, ed. Nancy van Deusen (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999), 65. 58 Ibid., 66. 59 Ibid., 68-69. 22

and anagogical types.60 The historical level indicates what literally happened in the Bible.61

Secondly, the allegorical level suggests symbolism or typology, and allows a Christian to see parallels between the Old and New Testaments.62 The moral or tropological level addresses moral behavior and educates people on how they should live.63 Finally, the anagogical level identifies the mystical or spiritual aspect of the Bible; this fourth level describes the relationship of the individual soul with God.64

Using this allegorical method, the Church Fathers and Patristic authors wrote commentaries on the Psalms, and indeed, they explicated them more than any other biblical book.65 Broadly speaking, the Church Fathers preferred the allegorical meaning over the literal or historical one.66 According to Origen, without the allegorical interpretation, the immortality of the soul was not possible.67 Besides Origen, Hilary of Poitiers (d. 368) and Augustine (354-430) wrote about the entire psalter, and Augustine’s Ennarationes is the first fully preserved commentary on this biblical book.68 Similar to Origen, Augustine favored the spiritual over the literal senses, but he did not ignore the literal interpretation. Beryl Smalley reveals that

Augustine “prefers to give both a literal and a spiritual interpretation to the same text, the one signifying or prefiguring the other. He very seldom sacrifices the literal sense to a subjective

60 Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” 536. 61 De Hamel, The Book: A History of the Bible, 101. 62 Ibid. 63 Ibid. 64 Ibid., 102. 65 Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” 537. 66 Ibid., “The Psalms in Monastic Prayer,” 69. Beryl Smalley reveals that biblical commentators accorded different level of importance to the literal meaning: “St. Gregory said that history was the foundation of allegory, yet he sometimes denied the historical sense; St. Augustine admitted that in rare cases one might deny of literal meaning in favour of the allegorical.” Beryl Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1964), 41. 67 Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages, 10. 68 Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” 537. 23

spiritual interpretation.”69 Other Patristic authors, such as Ambrose (ca. 340-397), Jerome (ca.

340-420), and Cassiodorus (ca. 490-583) wrote commentaries on the psalms.70 Cassiodorus

wrote a commentary on the Psalms which was based on Augustine’s commentary. 71

In addition to exegesis, tituli and collects offered a Christian reading of the Psalms.72 The

tituli or titles which accompanied each psalm varied from a few words to a short sentence and

suggested how each psalm could be read in a “doctrinal, prophetic, or moral way.”73 During the

Office, psalms were followed by a doxology or collect.74 Doxologies originated in Jewish prayer

and were either simple praises to God or hymns.”75

The public worship of the church, the liturgy, functions to construct a space where

Christians can commune with and worship their God.76 Consisting of the Divine Office and the

Mass, the liturgy always used the Psalms of David in the Middle Ages.77 All 150 Psalms were

chanted over the course of a week in the Divine Office, and the psalms comprised five of the

69 Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages, 23-24. 70 Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” 537. 71 De Hamel, The Book: A History of the Bible, 97. 72 Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms in the Early-Medieval Office,” 538. 73 Ibid., “The Psalms in Monastic Prayer,” 73. 74 Van Dijk, “The Bible in Liturgical Use,” 247. 75 A.G. Martimont, “The Dialogue Between God and His People,” in The Church at Prayer: An Introduction to the Liturgy, ed. Aime George Martimont et al, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell, new ed. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1987), 1:150. 76 Thomas J. Heffernan, “The Liturgy and the Literature of Saints’ Lives,” in The Liturgy of the Medieval Church, ed. Thomas J. Heffernan and E. Ann Matter (Kalamazoo: Western Michigan University Press, 2001), 73. 77 Dyer states that medieval Christians believed that David wrote the psalms which appear in the Old Testament. “The Psalms in Monastic Prayer,” 65. In reality, the psalms were probably written by multiple authors in different time periods. According to J.A. Smith, “With regard to the psalms themselves, the majority of them came into being probably in the period from the time of King David (reigned BCE c. 1000-961) to the time of Ezra (flourished BCE c. 400). But opinions differ widely as to when individual psalms were composed; moreover, it is hardly possible to determine when any of them reached their extant form.” “Which Psalms Were Sung in the Temple?” Music & Letters 71, no. 2 (May 1990): 168. 24

sung parts of the Mass, including the introit, gradual, alleluia, offertory, and communion.78

Although the liturgy employed the psalms, the Divine Office and the Mass did not remain static

in the medieval period. In fact, the liturgy became more and more complex as additional rituals

and prayers were added.79 Little information exists about the practice of the liturgy; the theory

behind opus dei is known. This section will address the history of the Christian liturgy which

will then be broken into the monastic liturgy and the cathedral liturgy.

The early Christian church based its liturgy on Jewish practices. Similar to their Jewish

forbears, Christians used the Bible for “instruction, community prayer, and lyric expression.”80

Worship in the Synagogue involved three hours of prayer per day, a practice that Christians

began to use.81 Adopting the tradition of the Levites in the Temple, Christians used the psalms in

worship.82 Improvisation was normal during the first few centuries of Christianity and texts used

78 James W. McKinnon, “The Books of Psalms, Monasticism, and the Western Liturgy,” in The Place of the Psalms in the Intellectual Culture of the Middle Ages, ed. Nancy van Deusen (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999), 43. 79 Heffernan, “The Liturgy and the Literature of Saints’ Lives,” 73. 80 Van Dijk, “The Bible in Liturgical Use,” 220. 81 W.O.E. Oesterley, The Jewish Background of the Christian Liturgy (Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1965), 125. McKinnon states that the liturgy in the fourth century church consisted of three daily services which were the forerunners of the monastic hours. “The Books of Psalms, Monasticism, and the Western Liturgy,” 52. 82 Smith, “Which Psalms Were Sung in the Temple?,” 168. Scholars actually disagree on the extent to which Judaism employed the psalms and when exactly the psalms became important for the Christian church. Oesterley contends that the use of psalms in Judaism has varied over time: “The number in use is larger now than was originally the case; though even now only about half the psalms of the Psalter are used.” The Jewish Background of the Christian Liturgy, 73. However, Paul F. Bradshaw speculates that individuals may have used the psalms for private devotion. The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship: Sources and Methods for the Study of Early Liturgy (New York: Oxford UP, 1992), 23. Smith offers a different assessment. He believes that a great majority of the psalms were used in the Temple service. “Which Psalms Were Sung in the Temple?,” 168. Based on textual evidence from the psalms themselves, Smith has interpolated that between 109 and 126 psalms may have been sung in the Temple service by the Levites (Ibid., 181). 25

for worship came from the Bible.83 A.G. Martimont believes the early church primarily read the

Psalms rather than singing them, but when Christians were persecuted, they began to sing the

Psalms.84 James W. McKinnon, on the other hand, argues that the Psalms were accorded their preeminent position in the fourth century due to the popularity of pagan hymns.85

The improvisation of the early church resulted in the creation of several liturgies.86

Moving quickly through the Middle Ages, between the fourth and eighth centuries, the liturgy differed based on geographical region. 87 By the sixth century, the Western church had several rites, but by the eighth century, the Roman Rite began to dominate the Western church. 88

Monastic liturgy became standardized as well, due to the efforts of Benedict of Nursia (d. ca 547). Benedict based his rule on common monastic practices, but his rule was better written and more concise than the Rule of the Master which preceded it. 89 Above all else, Benedict’s

Rule mandated constant prayer, study, and manual labor.90 More specifically, Benedict advocated four hours of liturgical prayer, six hours of manual labor, and four hours for reading, private prayer, or meditation. 91

83 Gy, “History of the Liturgy in the West to the Council of Trent,” 46-49. 84 Martimont, “The Dialogue Between God and His People,” 144. 85 McKinnon, “The Books of Psalms, Monasticism, and the Western Liturgy,” 43. 86 Gy, “History of the Liturgy in the West to the Council of Trent,” 46. 87 Ibid., 46. John Harper writes, “[T]hough the language and basic structures were common, matters of detail, emphasis, and style varied over the centuries and from one place to another.” The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy, 13. 88 Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy, 14. Charlemagne provides an example of how the local liturgies were replaced by the Roman rite. According to Gy, in the eighth century, he discarded the Frankish liturgy in favor of the Roman one. “History of the Liturgy in the West to the Council of Trent,” 54. 89 Sally Elizabeth Roper, Medieval English Benedictine Liturgy: Studies in the Formation, Structure, and Content of the Monastic Votive Office, c. 950-1540 (New York: Garland Publishing, 1993), 6. 90 Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy, 18. 91 Roper, Medieval English Benedictine Liturgy, 5. 26

During the hours of liturgical prayer, Benedict instructed his community at Monte

Cassino to sing the psalms. 92 Benedict’s goal was to sing each psalm only once per week during the performance of the liturgy, a goal he achieved by “splicing shorter psalms together (like

Psalms 115 and 116) and dividing longer psalms (like Psalms 138, 142, and 144) into two functioning psalms.”93 Benedict then divided the psalms into eight daily “hours” of prayer--

Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline.

Despite the acceptance of Benedict’s Rule throughout Europe, monastic communities often changed the Divine Office to meet their own needs.94 In the seventh century, Benedict of

Aniane (745-821) imposed additional regulations on monks, especially of manual labor and private prayer; when working, monks were either to remain silent or sing psalms.95

The Middle Ages was not unified and the liturgy did vary based on geographic region. In

England specifically, the liturgy altered over time. For example, Ælfric the Homilist (c. 955-

1020) specified that no preaching could occur on the last three days of Holy Week, known as swigdagas.96 Following the Norman Conquest, England experienced additional monastic reform.

Lanfranc, the from 1070 to 1089, passed fourteen canons about the

92 Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy, 18-19. 93 McKinnon, “The Books of Psalms, Monasticism, and the Western Liturgy,” 55. Dyer states that there was debate within the Church about how many psalms should be intoned daily; a consensus was never reached. “The Psalms in Monastic Prayer,” 60-61. While some individuals preferred to cite all of the psalms, others opted for moderation (Ibid.). In fact, the quantity did not seem to matter as much as the person’s state of mind (Ibid.). John Cassian [360-435] advised that the quantity of psalms recited was less important than the intelligence of the mind that “will sing with the spirit” and “also with the understanding” (Ibid., 61). 94 Roper, Medieval English Benedictine Liturgy, 14. 95 Ibid., 19. 96 Christopher A. Jones, “The Book of the Liturgy in Anglo-Saxon England,” Speculum 73.3 (July 1998), 680. 27

liturgy at Winchester in April 1072.97 Among these canons, mandated that “every priest

should say three masses pro rege” and “all other clerics are to say unum psalterium.”98

Regardless of Lanfranc’s canons, English abbots in the twelfth century exercised

independence over the liturgy. Richard W. Pfaff explains that each Benedictine house in England

celebrated different feast days for saints, and consequently, they approached the liturgy

independently rather than as a unified whole.99 Studying contemporary liturgical calendars, Pfaff

notes that the feast of St. Etheldreda was included in some calendars but absent in others.100

Abbots had the liberty to create new feasts and add them to the liturgy practiced at their house.

At St. Albans, Geoffrey of Gorron advocated the inclusion of the Office of the Virgin on

Saturday and he instituted the feast of the Conception of the Virgin.101

Women and Sanctity in the Early Middle Ages

Women religious exercised small roles in the Christian liturgy and held a status in the

church that was comparable to unordained monks.102 As a consequence, women religious

required the support of men for manual labor, spiritual advice, and the sacraments.103 Most

97 Richard W. Pfaff, The Liturgy in Medieval England: A History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 102-104. 98 Ibid., 104. 99 Ibid., 191. 100 Ibid., 123. While this feast is not included on St. Augustine’s and St. Albans calendars, it is included in calendars from Peterborough / Ely and New Minster (Ibid.). 101 Roper, Medieval English Benedictine Liturgy, 96-97. 102 Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy, 39. 103 Henrietta Leyser, Medieval Women: A Social History of Women in England 450-1500 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995), 194. Sally Thompson mentions that men assumed the additional responsibilities of managing nunneries’ estates, representing women in law suits, and writing charters. Women Religious: The Founding of English Nunneries after the Norman Conquest (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991), 14. As a consequence, Sharon R. Elkins notes, many female houses incorporated male members. Holy Women of Twelfth-Century England (Chapel Hill and London: University of Carolina Press, 1988), 55. 28

importantly, clerics needed to officiate at mass for nuns. Women were prohibited from celebrating the mass because they were viewed as potential pollutants to sacred spaces; due to menstruation, women were seen as ritually impure.104 Concerns about female contamination and women’s ability to corrupt the chastity of male ecclesiastics resulted in demands for female virginity and enclosure, demands which shaped the requirements and ideas about female sanctity.

Hagiography provides information about female sanctity in the medieval period and about women’s lives in general. 105 However, caution must be used when relying on this literary genre. While sacred biographies convey information about the ideal female saint, they do not always offer realistic or truthful depictions of the women portrayed. Hagiography is not concerned with accuracy but makes judgments about what constitutes holiness.106 Constructing saints in the likeness of Christ, hagiography served a crucial function in the canonization process.

Without a vita and a cult, sanctity in the Middle Ages could not be formalized. Thus, a saint’s virtues needed to be observed. Aviad Kleinberg contends, “Sanctity is in the eyes of the beholder. It was therefore, not the starting point, but the end-result of literary, political, and

104 Leyser, Medieval Women, 39. Women could not only contaminate themselves but others as well. Since antiquity, Dyan Elliot asserts, men considered menstrual blood to be a pollutant. Fallen Bodies: Pollution, Sexuality, and Demonology in the Middle Ages (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999), 2. Leviticus stressed that menstruating women needed to be separated and purified, and Gregory the Great worried that female bodily fluids could pollute “sacred precincts” (Ibid., 3-4). Despite his concerns, Gregory did not prevent menstruating women from entering churches (Ibid., 4). According to Leyser, this situation changed in the eighth century, and the Penitential of Theodore reveals that if a menstruating woman enters a church, she must fast for three weeks. Medieval Women, 38-39. The presence of menstrual blood in the church could harm the entire community. Elliot states that bringing bodily fluids (blood or semen) into a church required the performance of a purification ritual. “Sex in Holy Places: An Exploration of a Medieval Anxiety,” Journal of Women’s History 6, no. 3 (Fall 1994): 9.This ritual, performed by the bishop, was crucial because bodily fluids could adversely affect the entire community (Ibid.). 105 Jane Tibbets Schulenburg, Forgetful of Their Sex: Female Sanctity and Society ca. 500-1100 (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 17. 106 Ibid., 52. 29

social (as well as psychological) processes. Public consensus was the culmination of a symbolic production that involved both saint and society.”107 A woman could have been holy, but unless someone noticed her virtue, she could never become a saint. The ultimate impediment facing female canonization was the dearth of people who might notice sanctity and promote it in a cult.

Starting in the sixth century, hagiographical accounts emphasized virginity as the first and decisive requirement of female holiness.108 St. Paul first drew attention to the importance of virginity. 109 Paul derived his ideas on sexuality from the Stoics who argued that reason should supersede passion. 110 Even more than Paul, the Church Fathers ensured that virginity became indistinguishable from female morality. 111 Abstinence from sexual activity was crucial for both sexes but especially for women. To be female was to be sexual.112 All women harbored lustful tendencies and theoretically had the potential to become prostitutes.113 Ruth Mazo Karras asserts,

107 Aviad M. Kleinberg, “Proving Sanctity: Selection and Authentication of Saints in the Later Middle Ages,” Viator 20 (1989): 185. 108 Karen A. Winstead, Virgin Martyrs: Legends of Sainthood in Late Medieval England (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997), 9. Female sanctity requires virginity or at the very least chastity. If a woman cannot repress her natural, sinful feminine nature, she cannot be regarded as a saint. Virginity was not always important and in fact many early Christian women were not virgins; they were matriarchs who had children, owned property, and had influence over her local church (Ibid.). However, the Church in the early Middle Ages encouraged virginity so much so that by the sixth century the holy woman was virginal (Ibid.). 109 Elizabeth Castelli, “Virginity and Its Meaning for Women’s Sexuality in Early Christianity” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 2, no. 1 (Spring 1986): 68. 110 Ibid., 73. 111 Julia M. H. Smith, “The Problem of Female Sanctity in The Carolingian Europe c. 780-920,” Past & Present 146 (Feb. 1995): 12. 112 Ruth Mazo Karras, “Holy Harlots: Prostitute Saints in Medieval Legend,” Journal of the History of Sexuality 1, no. 1 (July 1990): 18. Sexuality was synonymous with femininity, so much so that medieval authors frequently assumed that Mary Magdalene’s sins were sexual, despite the lack of conclusive evidence (Ibid.). 113 Ibid., “Prostitution and the Question of Sexual Identity in Medieval Europe,” Journal of Women’s History 11, no. 2 (1999):169. In another article, Karras defines the medieval conception of the prostitute. The definition of prostitution in the Middle Ages differed from modern usage in which a woman trades sexual favors for money. “Holy Harlots,” 10. Medieval 30

“[M]edieval people . . . believed in women’s lustfulness. Women were constantly in danger of

falling away from appropriate feminine behavior and into unbridled promiscuity.”114 Whores or saints were the options from which women could choose—women either gave into their lust or suppressed it.115 Virginity allowed women to overcome their carnal bodies, and women who wanted to pursue religious vocations needed to completely deny their sexual inclinations.

Women religious in the early Middle Ages (c. 500-1066) focused especially on maintaining their physical virginity. Nuns were extremely concerned with preventing rape and guarding their chastity against men. 116 Standards of virginity became stricter in the twelfth century. Whereas in the early Middle Ages, women only needed to protect their physical virginity, women religious in the twelfth century needed to guard against their own thoughts.

Augustine initially theorized the significance of both physical and spiritual virginity, but until the twelfth century, other theologians did not share his viewpoint.117 The rise in female monasticism during this period caused clerics to worry that women could feel lust and might face temptations from within.118 Society also began to consider intentions with regard to sin: “As the penitentials of the early church would suggest, prior to the twelfth century sin had generally been determined in terms of an external offense. In the 1130s Peter Abelard (1079-1142) created something of a revolution in theological thinking by asserting the moral indifference of external acts; sin, for

Abelard, was located in the intentions which could only be properly weighed by God, the reader

society saw prostitution as promiscuity; money did not necessarily need to enter the equation (Ibid.). 114 Karras, “Prostitution and the Question of Sexual Identity in Medieval Europe,” 170. 115 Ibid. 116 Schulenburg, Forgetful of Their Sex,131. 117 Ibid. 118 Kathryn Kelsey Staples and Ruth Mazo Karras, “Christina’s Tempting: Sexual Desire and Women’s Sanctity,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 187. 31

of hearts.”119 As a consequence, Brides of Christ could theoretically lose their virginity due to impure thoughts or pride in their virginal state.120

The preservation of virginity often required enclosure, at least in the minds of men who mandated monastic confinement. Not only did enclosure safeguard the virginity of women religious but it additionally protected men from seeing women and subsequently suffering temptations of the flesh. 121 However, enclosure was not always strictly enforced. In the eighth and ninth centuries in Anglo-Saxon England, inclusion tended to be more metaphorical than physically restrictive.122 Carol Neuman De Vegvar reveals that royal women monastics in

Anglo-Saxon England held a significant status in society: “Far from being isolated by their spirituality, it became their [royal abbesses] passport to a level of power parallel to if not higher than that of their queenly cousins. In this equation their membership by birth in the aristocracy of the period played a critical role.”123 Permitted to participate in the secular world, royal abbesses exerted power over both the monastery and the court at the same time as they earned a reputation for holiness. For example, the abbess Hild (or Hilda, 614-680), a relative of the royal families of

119 Elliot, “Sex in Holy Places,” 15. 120 Jocelyn Wogan-Browne, Saints’ Lives and Women’s Literary Culture c. 1150-1300: Virginity and its Authorizations (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 41. 121 Schulenburg, Forgetful of Their Sex,129. 122 Carol Neuman De Vegvar, “Saints and Companions to Saints: Anglo-Saxon Royal Women Monastics in Context,” in Holy Men and Holy Women: Old English Prose Saints’ Lives and Their Contexts, ed. Paul E. Szarmach (Albany: State U of New York P, 1996), 65. De Vegvar mentions that enclosure varied across England (58). Some double monasteries, such as Wimbourne, did not permit interaction between sexes, but the author maintains that rigid enclosure was not the norm in England (Ibid.). 123 Ibid., 75-77.

32

Northumbria and East Anglia, founded Whitby, a double monastery in 657.124 In addition to hosting the Synod of Whitby, she built libraries, and supported Caedmon’s vernacular poetry. 125

Conversely in times of reform, and in some areas, enclosure became mandatory. The

Carolingian Empire moved for stricter enclosure of women religious; reformers wanted women to remain out of sight, to prevent them from interacting with secular society and with male members of the church. This movement for religious enclosure occurred due to concerns about female virginity and morality. Writing a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Boniface the

Archbishop of Mainz (d. 755) exclaimed, “[I]t would be well and favorable for the honour and purity of your church . . . if your synod and your princes would forbid matrons and veiled women to make these frequent journeys back and forth to Rome. A great part of them perish and few keep their virtue. There are very few towns in Lombardy or Frankland or Gaul in which there is not a courtesan or a harlot of English stock. It is a scandal and disgrace to your whole church.”126 Boniface believed that women, lay and religious, would not retain their chastity if they roamed throughout the world; when given the opportunity to release their pent-up lust, women seized the chance.

In the early Middle Ages, women religious could pursue several different avenues toward sainthood. To be recognized as saints, women had to do more than lead virtuous lives—they had to prove their inner virtue by accomplishing an observable action: peacemaking, building campaigns, searching for relics, giving to charity, and performing miracles.127 Holy women could prove their virtue and devotion to God by dying for their faith as well; martyrs were the

124 David Hugh Farmer, “Hilda,” The Oxford Dictionary of Saints, 2nd ed (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987), 206. 125 Ibid., 207. 126 Leyser, Medieval Women, 38. 127 Schulenburg, Forgetful of Their Sex, 83-104. 33

first type of saints and were the easiest to venerate.128 Because they died for God, martyrs were obviously saintly.129 A case for canonization could not be built on holiness alone but required verifiable actions as evidentiary support.

Despite the opportunities women religious enjoyed in the early Middle Ages, sanctity additionally required the right pedigree: royal blood.130 Indeed, medieval society equated noble birth with a noble character.131 Most female saints in the Carolingian and Anglo-Saxon periods were nobly born and lived in monasteries. Members of the laity, including men and women, could not be canonized.132 The early Middle Ages, then, presents a deceptively advantageous view of female sanctity when in reality these opportunities were restricted to those in upper echelon.

Female vocations in the Church shifted in the tenth century from coenobitism to eremiticism. Donors expressed less interest in female forms of monasticism. They instead preferred to endow “male monastic communities, secular canonries, and private churches headed by a priest” owing to the spiritual benefits they could gain from the prayers of monks and priests.133 The prayers of nuns simply did not garner the same spiritual currency as those of men.

Furthermore, the Gregorian reforms sought to curb clerical marriages, an action which caused a resurgence in gynephobic sentiment.134 Reformers defamed women and tried to distance them from anything holy, such as the altars in churches.135 This misogynistic climate did not prevent

128 Kleinberg, “Proving Sanctity,” 184. 129 Ibid., 185. 130 Leyser, Medieval Women, 20. 131 Karras, “Holy Harlots,” 20. 132 Smith, “The Problem of Female Sanctity in Carolingian Europe,” 28. 133 Patricia Halpin, “Women Religious in Late Anglo-Saxon England,” Haskins Society Journal 6 (1994): 100. 134 Elliot, “Sex in Holy Places,” 11. 135 Ibid. 34

women from pursuing a religious life, however. Patricia Halpin adamantly argues against

scholars who describe the tenth and eleventh centuries as bleak times for women religious.

Women could adopt a religious vocation outside of communities by embracing the eremitic

lifestyle.136 For example, many non-cloistered women started out as widows and invited other

like-minded women into their homes.137

The eremitic lifestyle continued to appeal to women well into the twelfth century, but

women began to have more options. After the Conquest, female houses increased dramatically.

In the twelfth century, the lack of female communities began to be seen as a problem by Gilbert

of Sempringham who founded the Gilbertines.138 Sharon R. Elkins states that female houses rose

from 20 houses to over 100 between 1130 and 1165.139 The increase in female communities

permitted roughly three thousand vocations, and women could choose which order they wanted

to join. 140 With this greater choice came several limitations. The religious zeal expressed by

women caused concern for clerics who wanted to reform the church. The twelfth century was

concerned with renewal and wanted to eradicate heresy. Reformers wanted to ensure the

orthodoxy of female communities and prevent the spread of heresy, and this assurance was

secured at the hands of local monks who assumed control over women religious.141

Women still could become canonized in later Anglo-Saxon England, but the process

became more difficult for them. Women found creative ways to conform to monastic regulations

and make their impression on the world; women used visions to prove their holiness. Alexandra

136 Halpin, “Women Religious in Late Anglo-Saxon England,” 98-103. 137 Stephanie Hollis and Jocelyn Wogan-Browne, “St. Albans and Women’s Monasticism: Lives and their foundations in Christina’s world,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 29. 138 Halpin, “Women Religious in Late Anglo-Saxon England,” 107. 139 Elkins, Holy Women of Twelfth-Century England, 45. 140 Leyser, Medieval Women, 190-91. 141 Staples and Karras, “Christina’s Tempting,” 188. 35

Barratt reveals, “[T]he Church could not deny women direct access to the divine, through mystical experience unmediated by a human priesthood. Visionary woman could bypass the human, male, authority of the Church on earth, and claim to be the instruments of a higher, divine authority.”142 Visions were one of the few methods of agency that women possessed in the later twelfth century and that promoted their spiritual proximity to God. Experiencing visions did not require women to enter the world or encroach on the public sphere; using the humility topos, they could transcribe their experiences and disseminate their words so that people would come to know them and their level of holiness. Constantly subordinate to men in the church, visions granted women power and allowed them to exert their blessedness without leaving the cloister.

Earning sanctity in the High (c. 1066-1300) and Later Middle Ages (c. 1300-1500) became a minefield since acceptable standards of female behavior and expression changed constantly. The same behavior could, at different times, be viewed as holy or deviant: “Therefore it seems that at times, only a fine line separated the holy from the abhorrent in the acts of these notably intrepid, independent-minded women, who, through the aggressive, self-conscious adoption of certain modes of behavior, might either be elevated to sainthood or denounced for their injudicious, ill-advised, or ‘deviant’ acts.”143 For example, a religious woman who participated actively in her vocation might be applauded one day but condemned the next.

142 Alexandra Barratt, ed., Women’s Writing in Middle English (London: Longman, 1992), 8. Diane Watt explores how female sanctity can be represented through visions: Similar to mystics, visionaries could prove their sanctity by praying for souls in purgatory and having visions about departed souls that had entered heaven. “Authorizing Female Piety,” in The Oxford Handbook of Medieval Literature in English, ed. Elaine Treharne and Greg Walker (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 241. Watt writes, “The relationship between the visionary and the subject of her vision is a symbiotic one: the visionary testifies to, and thus authorizes the holiness of her subject, but in so doing she herself gains authority and her own piety becomes manifest” (242). 143 Schulenburg, Forgetful of Their Sex, 408-09. 36

Women who managed to remain on the margins of English society, such an anchorites, had an easier time practicing sanctity and were able to gain more power as well. After the

Norman Conquest, anchorites born in England served the English community in opposition to the Continental clerics. The Life of Christina of Markyate demonstrates the esteem with which the Anglo-Saxon populace held hermits and recluses. Stephanie Hollis and Jocelyn Wogan-

Browne remind us that hermits were consulted in late Anglo-Saxon England: “Rural people, in the absence of priests near at hand, may have regarded holy men (and even women) as their principal confessors and spiritual advisors.”144 Similarly, Christopher Holdsworth argues that

Anglo-Saxons may have felt more comfortable speaking with hermits than French-speaking priests and monks.145 Although some reformers, like Idung of Prufenung felt the need to strictly regulate women religious, they still could find unique ways to pursue their desired religious vocation on their own terms and achieve recognition for their close relationship with God.

Women and Reading/Literacy

The reading practices of women and their literacy did fluctuate during the Middle Ages and depended not only on the time period but also on socio-economic class and whether or not the woman belonged to a religious order or the laity. In some cases, these distinctions did not matter. Indeed, women in the Middle Ages had no guarantee of receiving an education, even if they entered a religious vocation. Medieval clerics and theologians felt that women should receive no instruction lest they read the wrong material or use their knowledge to deceive

144 Hollis and Wogan-Browne, “St. Albans and Women’s Monasticism,” 32-3. 145 Christopher J. Holdsworth, “Christina of Markyate,” in Medieval Women, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1978), 203. 37

others.146 Knowledge was dangerous in the hands of women. This negative opinion did not prevent many women from gaining at least a primary education. As children, girls were taught either at home by their mothers or tutors or at a local convent.147 This primary schooling consisted of learning the Latin Psalter.148 Although some women, like Heloise,149 would receive a formal education in Latin, most did not progress beyond their initial, informal education unless they entered a religious community and even then an education was not guaranteed. Barred from universities, Latin learning declined for women religious in the High Middle Ages.150 Thus, secular and religious women may have had the same amount of education, a fact that is evidenced by their reading material: liturgical and spiritual books.151

Taught the psalter as children, women religious theoretically knew Latin, but their abilities to comprehend it varied. According to David N. Bell, nuns demonstrated four different levels of Latin literacy: reading Latin without understanding it, reading and understanding a common liturgical text, reading and understanding non-liturgical texts or less common texts, and

146 D.H. Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007), 85. 147 Wendy Scase, “Reading Communities,” in The Oxford Handbook of Medieval Literature in English, ed. Elaine Treharne and Greg Walker (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 566; David N. Bell, What Nuns Read: Books and Libraries in Medieval English Nunneries (Kalamazoo: Cistercian, 1995), 59; Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages, 94-95. 148 Bella Millet, “Women in No Man’s Land: English recluses and the development of vernacular literature in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,” in Women and Literature in Britain 1150-1500, ed. Carol M. Meale, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 89. 149 For more information on Heloise, see Etienne Gilson, Heloise and Abelard (Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 1963). Heloise was a learned woman from the twelfth century. According to Gilson, we can consider her to be a Renaissance woman (134). “Heloise knows Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, studies Scripture and , calls on the Consolation and the Exhortations like the spiritual daughters of St. Jerome before her” (Ibid., 141). 150 Bell, What Nuns Read, 59. Women could not attend cathedral schools or universities. The universities enabled men to obtain higher offices, and because women could not hold a clerical office, they could not attend. D.H. Green mentions that women faced opposition to being educated in general as well as being taught to read. Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages, 85. 151 Marilyn Olivia, The Convent and the Community in Late Medieval England: Female Monasteries in the Diocese of Norwich, 1350-1540 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1998), 69-70. 38

the ability to compose and write a text.152 Latin literacy varied depending on the geographical location and the time period. As a consequence, the literacy of women cannot be definitively determined.153

Women had more opportunities to pursue an education and apply their knowledge in society in the early Middle Ages; for example, they could participate in theological debates and church synods, and work as missionaries or educators.154 Following the Anglo-Saxon period, nuns’ Latin literacy has either been viewed as cursory or nonexistent by modern academics, who tend to assume that clerics mediated Latin texts for women religious.155 Mediation might have occurred for some women, but femininity did not necessarily equal ignorance in the High and

Later Middle Ages. Women continued to be literate in Latin between the eleventh and fifteenth centuries.156 For example, Eve of Wilton (c. 1058-1125) possessed the ability to read and understand Latin texts; indeed, her friendship with Goscelin (d. 1099) was based on “the ability to share, read, and contemplate Latin devotional literature.”157 Furthermore, the nuns at Barking translated the Lives of Edward the Confessor and St. Catherine of Alexandria from Latin into

French in the twelfth century. 158 Some women continued to exhibit signs of Latin literacy in the

152 Bell, What Nuns Read, 60. 153 Literacy in the Middle Ages referred to Latin; a literate person could read and understand Latin. Even if a person could read a vernacular language, he or she was not considered fully literate. 154 Halpin, “Women Religious in Late Anglo-Saxon England,” 97-99. 155 Mary Jane Morrow, “Sharing Texts: Anselmian Prayers, a Nunnery’s Psalter, and the Role of Friendship,” in Voices in Dialogue: Reading Women in the Middle Ages, ed. Linda Olson and Kathryn Kerby-Fulton (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), 106. 156 Ibid. 157 Ibid. 158 Helen M. Jewell, Women in Medieval England (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996), 159. Jewell mentions that the nuns of Barking were atypical during the time period (Ibid.). 39

later Middle Ages even as late as the fifteenth century. 159 Those who could not comprehend

Latin might have read books in the vernacular. Starting in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, more nuns and anchorites originated from non-aristocratic classes, and they required books either in English or French. 160

Reading a religious text not only educated women but served as spiritual meditation and enabled women to serve in the liturgy. Prayer involved reading a scriptural or devotional text, such as a psalter or Book of Hours.161 Books permitted women to participate in the liturgy, so if a female community had any books at all, it would have owned liturgical books. Examining 144 manuscripts which survive from the ninth century, David N. Bell asserts that fifty-three percent of them are liturgical, including bibles, psalters, and calendars.162 The majority of these surviving liturgical texts, forty-five percent, are psalters.163 As “compact libraries of devotional material,” psalters were particularly useful to possess; they permitted women to participate in the Divine

Office while also providing prayers necessary for salvation. 164 In addition to psalters, women

159 Bell, What Nuns Read, 65. Bell mentions that Syon perpetuated Latin learning for women (61-65). 160 Millet, “Women in No Man’s Land,” 87. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, vernacular literature acquired a more prominent place in medieval society in literary works and business. Wogan-Browne asserts that women read vernacular hagiography in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. “Saints’ Lives and the Female Reader,” Forum for Modern Language Studies 27, no. 4 (1991): 314. 161 Wogan-Browne, Saints’ Lives and Women’s Literary Culture, 32; Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages, 91. 162 Bell, What Nuns Read, 33-34. 163 Ibid., 34. Bell presents the caveat that more liturgical books may survive due to conspicuous consumption or because recusant Catholics used psalters to worship in secret (35). 164 Ibid., “A Token of Friendship? Anselmian Prayers and a Nunnery’s Psalter: Response to Mary Jane Morrow: Where Do We Go from Here?” in Voices in Dialogue: Reading Women in the Middle Ages, ed. Linda Olson and Kathryn Kerby-Fulton (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), 118. Psalters were necessary for the recitation of the liturgy, so any house that could afford books would have owned one. In What Nuns Read, Bell writes that before the advent of printing, books were expensive and only wealthy lay women or religious communities 40

contemplated a variety of books and genres throughout the Middle Ages: Books of Hours,

primers, romances, hagiographies, devotional texts, and biblical commentaries.165

Medieval manuscripts were frequently illustrated or decorated in the form of miniatures,

initials, and drawings.166 Illustration, first of all, increased the readability of a manuscript.

According to Christopher De Hamel, initials helped the reader to find or keep his or her place,

while miniatures divided the text so that the reader could more easily navigate through it.167 Not

all manuscripts contained lavish miniatures or artistic historiated initials, but at the very least

they would have contained rubrics. Even Cistercian monks who generally abhorred illustration

expected rubricated initials in their manuscripts.168 Besides acting as a reading aid, medieval art

could serve several purposes ranging from “providing spontaneous pleasure, altered

consciousness, instruction, to even salutary terror.”169 The purpose of art would, of course,

could afford them (14). Many female communities had limited resources and experienced repeated financial difficulties (Ibid., 12). 165 Generic boundaries were not fixed in the Middle Ages, so hagiographies or devotional literature might have contained romance elements. For more information see Wogan-Browne, Saints’ Lives and Women’s Literary Culture, 95; Ibid., “‘Clerc u lai, muine u dame’: women and Anglo-Norman hagiography in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,” in Women and Literature in Britain 1150-1500, ed. Carol M. Meale, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1996), 62; Anne Clark Bartlett, Male Authors, Female Readers: Representations and Subjectivity in Middle English Devotional Literature (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995), 3; Rebecca Krug, Reading Families: Women’s Literate Practice in Late Medieval England (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002), 188-92. 166 I use the terms illustration and decoration interchangeably throughout this dissertation. I do distinguish between illustration and illumination. Therefore, illustration and decoration refer to artwork that does not contain gold or silver leaf. I will be using Michelle Brown’s Understanding Illuminated Manuscripts: A Guide to Technical Terms in my discussion of art history, iconography, and the illustration in the St. Albans Psalter. Additional terms not found in this handbook will be defined either in the text or in footnotes. 167 De Hamel, A History of Illuminated Manuscripts, 2nd ed. (London: Phaidon, 2006), 101. 168 Ibid., 96-98. 169 Madeline Harrison Caviness, “Reception of Images by Medieval Viewers,” in A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph. (Malden: Blackwell, 2006), 66. 41

change depending on the type of art, the intended audience, and its conceived function. 170

Although illustration could fulfill many purposes, religious art often functioned for moral or

didactic purposes: its primary function was instruction. 171

Pictorial art served another practical function: it reminded the reader about what he or she

already knew. 172 It could remind readers or viewers of what they learned through oral instruction

or remind them of an important Scriptural passage. Art aided memory. In doing so, art could

function as a compositional device, a way to create new ideas. Pictures are cognitive tools: “The

‘good’ of a picture, its underlying aesthetic principle, is thus understood in terms of its role in

cognitive function: a picture is for remembering, and its value is dependent on how it serves this

function. . . . Pictures are constructions, fictions, like all ideas and thoughts. And in the same way

as words, pictures are made for the work of memory: learning and meditation. Pictura is a

cognitive instrument, serving invention in the same manner as words do.”173 Like words, pictures

170 The function of art differed during the Middle Ages, and it also depended on who its viewer or reader was. For example De Hamel specifies that art in the twelfth century for a monastic audience would have served a classifying, organizational purpose. History of Illuminated Manuscripts, 97 . However, art in the fifteenth century for an aristocratic owner might have served a more ornamental purpose (Ibid. 167). 171 Nigel Morgan states that illustration in psalters served a didactic purpose, in particular religious instruction. “Old Testament Illustration in Thirteenth-Century England,” in The Bible in the Middle Ages: Its Influence on Literature and Art, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies 89, ed. Bernard S. Levy (Binghamton: Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 1992), 162. Morgan writes, “The pictures would have served as narrative stories for children, as moral exemplars for the laity, and could be given an exegetical interpretation by the better educated” (172-73). 172 Lawrence G. Duggan, “Was art really the ‘book of the illiterate?,’” Word & Image 5, no. 3 (July-Sept. 1989): 228. 173 Mary Carruthers, The Craft of Thought: Meditation, Rhetoric, and the Making of Images, 400-1200 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1998), 200-201. Carruthers provides an example from Beowulf. Meditating upon his sword-hilt, King Hrothgar composes a speech: “It is clear in the poem that looking at the sword enables Hrothgar’s meditation, that the decorated artifact acts as not only the ‘inspiration’ . . . but as the inventional, ordering instrument with which he composes” (205). 42

aid the creative thought process, leading readers to new ideas, new connections. At Syon, for example, initiates meditated upon visual images in order to learn virtues.174

The validity of art was often contested during the Middle Ages. For Augustine, images could potentially deceive their viewer.175 Augustine in particular believed that no image could challenge the supremacy of the Scriptures.176 Gregory the Great, however, lauded images for their ability to educate the illiterate. Writing two letters to Serenus of Marseilles in 599 and 600,

Gregory promoted visual art as a method to edify the ignorant.177 Scholars such as Emile Mâle have generally interpreted these letters to mean that illiterates could learn from pictures just as literates could learn from books.178 While images could be a useful tool in teaching the uneducated, Gregory probably intended the clergy to supplement these images with instruction. 179 Therefore, illustrated books for women cannot be seen simply as a means to overcome female illiteracy. The miniatures and historiated initials themselves needed to be interpreted just as the text itself needed to be digested. The pictures could depict the words on the page, but they did not merely serve as appendages to the text.

Visual arts offered women an additional mode to practice devotion. 180 An illustrated manuscript, the Shaftesbury Psalter (London, BL, Lansdowne 383, c. 1130-40), can demonstrate how women relied on both word and image for devotion. The Shaftesbury Psalter, dated to the twelfth century, was most likely used by the community of nuns at Shaftesbury. This psalter

174 Krug, Reading Families, 167. Looking at images of Christ and the Virgin were supposed to help initiates to learn virtues such as meekness and chastity (Ibid.). 175 Celia M. Chazelle, “Pictures, books, and the illiterate: ’s letters to Serenus of Marseilles,” Word & Image 6, no. 2 (April-June 1990): 146. 176 Duggan, “Was art really the ‘book of the illiterate?,’” 229. 177 I discuss Gregory the Great’s letters on art in more detail in chapter 3. 178 Duggan, “Was art really the ‘book of the illiterate?,’” 241. 179 Chazelle, “Pictures, books, and the illiterate,” 145. 180 This practice, of course, would have varied throughout the Middle Ages. 43

contains a calendar, eight full-page illuminations, four historiated initials, the Office for the Holy

Cross, the Gallican version of Psalms, canticles, litanies, creeds, and forty-seven devotional prayers.181

The Shaftesbury Psalter has been associated with women since 1903 when Sir George

Warner posited a connection between the abbey and the book.182 The inclusion of female Latin word forms and the appearance of female supplicants in two miniatures led him to assume the manuscript had been used by a woman or a community of women. 183 No matter for whom the manuscript was made, the psalter has clear connections to women. In fact, the visual imagery in the psalter aligns it closely with a female reader. Madeleine H. Caviness and C.M. Kauffmann pay close attention to two miniatures in Shaftesbury that contain female supplicants: Christ in

Majesty (image 5, f. 14v) and the Virgin with Child (image 6, f. 165v).184 The presence of these supplicants has led these scholars to posit that the Psalter was made either for or patroned by women. 185

181 Morrow, “Sharing Texts,” 98. 182 Ibid.,119-20. In 1903, Sir George Warner noticed that three names were capitalized in the Shaftesbury Psalter: Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and St. Edward (Ibid.). The capitalization of St. Edward led Warner to speculate that the manuscript was used at Shaftesbury, the only nunnery associated with St. Edward (Ibid.). The Shaftesbury Calendar includes St. Edith, the patron saint of Wilton, which offered an alternative to ascribing the manuscript to Shaftesbury (Ibid.). 183 Ibid; Morrow, “Sharing Texts,” 98. Morrow specifies that out of the forty-seven prayers, fourteen of them used female Latin “first person singular forms” or “nominative noun and adjective forms” (Ibid.). 184 Madeline H. Caviness, “Anchoress, Abbess, and Queen: Donors and Patrons or Intercessors and Matrons?” in The Cultural Patronage of Medieval Women, ed. June Hall McCash (Athens and London: U of Georgia P, 1996), 113; Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery, 141-46. Caviness believes the female figure is Christ in Majesty a nun (Ibid.,113). Kauffmann, however, asserts that this figure’s dress is “too sumptuous” to be a nun and instead should be viewed as “a laywoman of the highest social status, of upper aristocratic or royal birth” (Ibid., 142). 185 Kauffmann believes Adeliza of Louvain, Henry I’s second queen, might have been the patron of the Shaftesbury Psalter. Biblical Imagery, 143-44. He writes, “The prominence of St Edward, King and Martyr, in the Calendar and Litany fits well with a book made for a Queen of England 44

The important positions that women hold in the Ascension and miniatures lend credence to this theory. Textual sources and iconographic traditions can explain the Virgin’s appearance in these scenes. Scholars have not identified any literature about the Virgin and the

Ascension, but some scholars have referred to the Acts of the Apostles and apocryphal texts as mentioning the Virgin at Pentecost.186 Timothy Verdun describes how a reading of chapters one and two in the Acts of the Apostles suggests Mary’s presence at Pentecost: “after the list of eleven apostles who ‘joined in continuous prayer’ as they awaited the promised gift of the Spirit

(Acts 1:13), we read that ‘several women, including Mary the mother of Jesus’ belonged, forming part of this primitive nucleus of the Church (Acts 1:14). The account of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit does not specify Mary or others by name, but opens with the assertion that

‘when Pentecost day came around, they had all met in one room’ (Acts 2:1). ‘All’ is an inclusive term, and thus—together with the apostles, some women and the Lord’s ‘brothers,’ Mary must also have been there.”187 Mary’s presence at Pentecost is confirmed by the seventh century life of

Mary written, supposedly, by Maximus the Confessor.188 Based on the and the

Protoevangelium of James (c. second century), Maximus’ Life of the Virgin describes the childhood of Mary and her participation in Christ’s ministry. 189 In its description of Pentecost,

...Edith’s red capitals in the Calendar, like her brother’s, fit will with the patronage of a queen as much as with a royal abbey” (Ibid., 144). Other scholars, such as Caviness and Morrow align the Psalter with Shaftesbury Abbey. Morrow links the book with the Abbess Eulalia of Shaftesbury based on the inclusion of Anselm’s prayers in the book as well as “several documented institutional and personal ties between the Shaftesbury community, its abbess, Eulalia, and Archbishop Anselm.” “Sharing Texts,” 97-8. 186 Daniel R. Cartlidge and J. Keith Elliot state that “there is no specific mention of the Virgin Mary’s presence at the Ascension in early literature. The church obviously assumed that she should have been there.” Art and the Christian Apocrypha (London: Routledge, 2001), 133. 187 Timothy Verdun, Mary in Western Art (New York: Hudson Hills Press, 2005), 169. 188 Stephen J. Shoemaker, “The Virgin Mary in the Ministry of Jesus and the Early Church according to the Earliest Life of the Virgin,” Harvard Theological Review 98.4 (2005), 442-44. 189 Ibid., 444. 45

the Life of the Virgin shows that Mary had a significant role in Christ’s ministry: “the Life picks

up on Luke’s notice in Acts 1:14 that Mary was present in the upper room at Pentecost together

with the other leaders of the early church. The Life explains that this was because ‘the holy

Theotokos was always a participant and a leader in every good thing,’ and, more specifically,

because ‘she directed the fasting and prayer of the holy apostles.’”190

Iconographic traditions can also explain why the Virgin is included in Ascension and

Pentecost scenes. Although there are no textual precedents for the Virgin at Ascension, she is

traditionally represented in there: “In the iconographic tradition, the Virgin begins to be present

in scenes where the New Testament does not place her, but, because of the iconography, her

presence is theologically accepted. . . . [B]y the sixth century, much of the iconography of the

Ascension places the Virgin there. She is usually standing in the lower center of the scene, her

hands in orans position, and she is flanked by the apostles.”191 Timothy Verdun states that the

Virgin is traditionally present in Ascension scenes from the sixth through the twelfth centuries

(see image 7).192 Mary is also often present in Pentecost scenes (see image 8). Kaufmann asserts that the Virgin’s central position in the Pentecost miniature is typically occupied by St. Peter, but the Shaftesbury miniature is not the first that grants the Virgin her position. 193 The Rabbula

Gospels of 586 (Florence, Bibl. Laurenziana, Plut. I.56) and the Carolingian Bible of c. 870 at

San Paolo fuori le Mura in Rome depict her in the center, but she does not appear in this position again until the twelfth century. 194 Kauffmann believes her appearance is the result of increased veneration of the Virgin in the twelfth century: “The revival and popularity of this composition

190 Ibid., 454. 191 Cartlidge and Elliot, Art and the Christian Apocrypha, 42. 192 Verdun, Mary in Western Art, 41. 193 Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England, 128. 194 Ibid., 128-29. 46

in the twelfth century may be linked with a new veneration of the Virgin and the heightened emphasis on her rank in Christian thought and worship.”195 Despite the textual basis for the

Virgin’s appearance in the miniature and the earlier precedence for her centrality, the decision was made to not only include her in the Shaftesbury Pentecost scene but also position her in the center of the Apostles. This decision demonstrates a desire to promote women.

The Shaftesbury Psalter contains two prayers written by Anselm, one for the Virgin and the other for the Eucharist.196 Morrow believes these prayers prove that some of the Shaftesbury nuns, most likely Abbess Eulalia at least, could read Latin. Illiterate nuns in the community, if there were any, would have been instructed by those who had knowledge of Latin. For women, reading was a communal activity, and they learned through discussion. 197 Education did not happen in isolation. Either reading or listening, the nuns would have read Anselm’s prayers “for transformation, not information.”198 Anselm’s prayers encouraged the readers to love God and stressed the traditional Benedictine method of praying: lectio, meditatio, and oratio.199

The nuns at Shaftesbury would not have read the prayers and psalms in isolation but would have meditated upon the images. The miniatures in the Shaftesbury Psalter were not secondary to the text. Bell contends that the readers would have used the images for meditation as equally as the text: “[T]he unknown abbess who commissioned the Shaftesbury Psalter would have seen the images as an integral part of the text. More than that: she would have seen the images as text. Not only do the illuminations support and embellish the text, but discursive

195 Ibid., 129. 196 Morrow, “Sharing Texts,” 97-98. 197 Wogan-Browne, Saints’ Lives and Women’s Literary Culture, 38-39. 198 Bell, “A Token of Friendship?,” 116. 199 Ibid., 115. 47

meditation on the images may be just as rewarding as ruminative reading of the text itself.”200

The miniatures gave women interpretive agency when they read the manuscript. Images have the ability to suggest allegorical meanings that are not present in the text.201 Viewers of the

Shaftesbury Psalter might have contemplated the Pentecost miniature and the role of women in the church, for example. No matter what conclusions the nuns drew from the miniatures, they ultimately used images for contemplation.

This chapter has explored the liturgy, the role of the Psalter in religious life, and female sanctity and literacy. As I have shown, the Psalter was integral to the lives of women religious, and it was imperative that Christina both possessed one and could read it. In the following chapter, I will discuss the production and codicology of the St. Albans Psalter.

200 Ibid., 118. 201 In his study of the St. Albans Psalter, C.R. Dodwell discusses how the historiated initials offer allegorical interpretations of the psalms, many of which are based on Augustine’s Enarrationes in Psalmos. Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 182-83. We could apply Dodwell’s analysis to the Shaftesbury Psalter; the miniatures in this manuscript largely derive from the New Testament, but the psalms come from the Old Testament. Therefore, the miniatures provide, at least on one level, a typological interpretation. They show that the psalms apply to Christ, not just to David.

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CHAPTER TWO

This chapter will attempt to prove that the St. Albans Psalter was created at St. Albans based on the hands, artistry, and codicology. This chapter lays a groundwork for analysis which will come in chapters four and five about the potential connections of Christina to the Psalter.

This chapter then will provide a detailed analysis of monastic book collections in Norman

England, the abbots of St. Albans and their libraries, and finally a codilocological examination of the St. Albans Psalter.

After the Norman Conquest, English monasteries and cathedrals worked to increase their book collections. Whether or not the Normans were critical or scornful of English collections,202 they seem to have found them “inadequate.”203 As a consequence, the Normans sought to fill the gaps in English libraries in order to “complete” them, a practice known as “planned acquisition.”204 English houses on the whole sought out patristic texts which Norman abbots viewed as indispensible additions to any Christian collection. 205 Besides amassing books by the

Church Fathers and other theologians, religious centers acquired Bibles, liturgical books, spiritual writings, history, and hagiography. 206 If communities desired these types of books, it can be assumed they already had liturgical books, vernacular homilaries, and Carolingian writings.207

202 Rodney M. Thomson, The Ending of ‘Alter Orbis’: Books and Learning in Twelfth-Century England (Walkem: Red Gulf, 2006), 5. 203 M.T. Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record: England 1066-1307, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 106. 204 Thomson, The Ending of ‘Alter Orbis’, 19. 205 Richard Gameson, Manuscripts of Early Norman England (c. 1066-1130) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 20. 206 Ibid., 20-25. 207 Ibid., 4. 49

A monastery that wanted to expand its library holdings needed to find exemplars, hire scribes, and procure funds.208 The availability of exemplars varied depending on geographical region and time period and consequently finding exemplars was the biggest impediment.209

Many exemplars came from the Continent, especially from Normandy, France, and the Low

Countries,210 and in England itself, numerous books circulated from Canterbury.211 Scribes were easier to find than were exemplars, and a well-off scriptorium could hire scribes.212 For example,

Paul of Caen from St. Albans “sought out the choicest scribes ‘from afar,’” had meals prepared for them, and gave them a salary. 213 Wealth not only permitted religious communities to hire scribes, it also allowed them to purchase the necessary materials such as parchment, ink, and pens. It is no coincidence that the wealthiest houses had the largest libraries: St. Albans, Durham,

Bury, and Canterbury each had fifty or more monks and were located close to urban centers.214

St. Albans Scriptorium

St. Albans possessed one of the largest monastic scriptoria in the twelfth century, and it surpassed all other monasteries for its “intellectual, literary and artistic life.”215 This abbey is known for the production of the St. Albans Psalter, a manuscript reputedly made for the twelfth- century nun, Christina of Markyate. This chapter will discuss the rise of St. Albans scriptorium,

208 Ibid., 6. 209 Ibid., 40. 210 Ibid., 10-12. 211 Ibid., 17. 212 Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record, 117. 213 Ibid. In the thirteenth century, the normal salary for a scribe was 5 pence daily (Ibid., 121). 214 Thomson, The Ending of ‘Alter Orbis’, 41. Besides having money and access to exemplars, a scriptorium needed a knowledgeable precentor, a person who took responsibility for building collections and preserving books (Ibid.). 215 Brian Golding, “Wealth and Artistic Patronage at Twelfth-Century St. Albans,” in Art and Patronage in the English Romanesque, ed. Sarah Macready and F. H. Thompson (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1986), 107. 50

the association between the scriptorium and the St. Albans Psalter, and the codicology, assembly, and dating of this manuscript.

Although the library at St. Albans increased in size in the late eleventh and twelfth centuries, the scope of the collection held at the abbey before 1066 cannot be determined.

Neither surviving manuscripts nor documentary evidence records the existence of manuscripts.216 M.T. Clanchy believes books did not exist in great numbers before the

Conquest.217 The Gesta presents a similar viewpoint; the chronicle relates that three “booklets” may date from the eleventh century, but this evidence cannot be validated.218 Dating these booklets to c. 1050-1075,219 Thomson argues that they are “characteristically pre-Norman”220 and probably were intended for personal use due to the variety of hands and the lack of decoration. 221 The booklets consist of liturgical and hagiographic material and seem to be written in Latin: “Booklet 2 consists of three hymns to St Albans followed by his Office and Mass,

Booklet 3 of a hymn to St and Ethelhard’s Vita, and the last booklet has the Office for the feast of St Birinus, to which have been added two sermons, one by Odo of Cluny.”222 The booklets’ existence is not enough to suggest that a scriptorium operated at St. Albans prior to

1066.223

Despite the evidence of a thriving scriptorium in the twelfth century, the amount or types of books made cannot be accurately determined. Rodney Thomson speculates that roughly fifty

216 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. 1, Text (Woodridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 8; Gameson, Manuscripts of Early Norman England, 17. 217 Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record,105-06. 218 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 8-9. 219 Ibid. 220 Ibid., 9. 221 Ibid. 222 Ibid. 223 Ibid. 51

books survive from twelfth-century St. Albans.224 These books are predominately Latin and are comprised of patristic, theological, classical and late antique, and liturgical works.225 R.W. Hunt, on the other hand, has examined documentary evidence, and he specifies that an excerpt from a twelfth-century catalogue, one leaf of a fifteenth-century borrower’s list, and a book list from a dependent priory exist.226 The majority of this evidence deals with the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and is not helpful to a discussion of St. Albans in the twelfth century. However, twelfth-century works do appear on the borrower’s list, a list which Hunt has dated between

1420 and 1437.227 Borrowers have checked out twelfth and thirteenth-century theology and exegesis, including Peter Lombard’s Sentences and Peter Comestor’s Historia scholastica, but scholastic works do not appear on the list.228

More information is known about the scriptorium itself than about specific books produced by it. The creation of a scriptorium at St. Albans resulted from the efforts of Norman abbots who reigned at St. Albans starting in 1077 as well as the intervention of Lanfranc. After seizing the throne, William I heavily exploited the abbey for years, misusing “its manors, lands,

224 Thomson, The Ending of ‘Alter Orbis,’ 27. 225 Ibid., Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 18-78. Thomson does not explicitly state that these works are Latin, but we can assume this based on their contents. Moreover, he writes that Anglo- Saxon suffered an “effective extinction” by Paul of Caen (Ibid., 78). 226 R.W. Hunt, “The Library of the Abbey of St. Albans,” in Medieval Scribes, Manuscripts & Libraries: Essays Presented to N.R. Ker, ed. M.B. Parkes and Andrew G. Watson (London: Scolar, 1978), 251. 227 Ibid., 255. 228 Ibid., 255-56. According to Elaine M. Treharne, there is no evidence that St. Albans copied or produced books written in Old English in the twelfth century. “The production and script of manuscripts containing English religious texts in the first half of the twelfth century,” in Rewriting Old English in the Twelfth Century, ed. Mary Swan and Elaine M. Treharne (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 20. The dearth of books in Old English might result from the urgency to copy and acquire patristic texts in the twelfth century. Gameson states that books in Old English and the Latin classics were the smallest category of books copied after the Conquest. Gameson, Manuscripts of Anglo-Norman England, 25. 52

houses, and possessions.”229 The exploitation might have continued if Lanfranc had not interceded and appointed his nephew, Paul of Caen as the abbey’s abbot. Re-building the desecrated abbey, Paul restored “territories, churches, and tithes”230 during his abbacy which spanned from 1077 to 1093.231 Paul organized the scriptorium and hired professional scribes to staff it.232 He received exemplars from Lanfranc,233 and reportedly “gave this church [St. Albans] twenty-eight notable books, plus eight Psalters, a Collectar, an Epistolar, a book containing the

Gospel pericopes for the year, two -books ornamented with gold, silver and gems, not to mention Ordinals, Customaries, Missals, Tropers, Collectars and other books.”234 Despite the the evidence about book production during Paul’s reign, only one book survives from his abbacy:

London, British Library Harley 865.235

Four years after the death of Paul of Caen, Richard d’Aubigny was elected abbot of St.

Albans, and he reigned until 1119.236 During his abbacy, Richard began a grammar school and gave a fifth of the tithes intended for St. Albans’s churches to the scriptorium.237 Richard was responsible for the production of a group of books that Thomson has called “Group I.” In his

1982 landmark study on St. Albans, Thomson associated Group I books with Richard’s successor, Geoffrey. Thomson reassessed this contention later when he learned of a late

229 Golding, “Wealth and Artistic Patronage,”108. 230 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 11. 231 Christopher Brooke, “St. Albans: The Great Abbey,” in Cathedral and City: St. Albans Ancient and Modern, ed. Robert Runcie (London: Martyn Associates, 1977), 46. 232 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 13; Gameson, The Manuscripts of Early Norman England, 17. 233 Thomson, The End of the ‘Alter Orbis,’ 67-68. 234 Ibid., Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 13. 235 Ibid., 14. Gameson speculates that the books made in the eleventh century were given to dependent cells while the mother house made better copies for itself in the twelfth century. Gameson, Manuscripts of Early Norman England, 17. 236 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 15. 237 Ibid. 53

eleventh-century manuscript, Cambridge, Clare College 18 that was rubricated by Scribe A, the main scribe for Group I books. Moreover, the initials in this manuscript were painted by Group

I’s main artist.238 Thomson dates this manuscript to the late eleventh century because its main scribe was active then, and his hand appears in contemporary books from Durham and Exeter.239

If the dating of Clare College 18 is correct, Thomson posits from this a date early in the twelfth century for the rest of Group I books.240 Diverse authors were represented in Group I books: Ado of Vienne, , Helperic, Josephus, Ambrose, Peter Damian, Haymo, and Anselm. Group I also includes a Gospel book.241 This list might seem small, but St. Albans probably had a large library in Richard’s abbacy. This is known because of requests from learned individuals, such as Bishop

Herbert, to borrow books.242

The scribes for Group I books consisted of a master and his assistants. The master, known as Scribe A, began sections of text, and he later corrected his assistants’ mistakes (see images 10 and 11).243 The presence of Scribe A at St. Albans suggests that the scriptorium was becoming more professional: new recruits were constantly being trained and a house style

238 Ibid., The End of the ‘Alter Orbis,’ 27. 239 Ibid. 240 Ibid., 27-29. In Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, Thomson connects Richard’s reign with eight surviving books. Thomson does not indicate in the later 2006 study if these books should continue to be associated with Richard or if Paul of Caen should take credit for their production. Thomson indicates that some books from Richard’s abbacy resemble those from Paul’s: “Two of the books which are probably the earliest, London, British Library Roy. 13 B. v and Cambridge, University Library Kk. 4.22, are almost identical in format to British Library Harl. 865, the collection of patristic works from Abbot Paul’s time” (16). 241 Thomson, in his 1982 study, places the St. Albans Psalter in Group I based on the book’s inclusion of miniatures by the Alexis Master. Although the calendar may have been completed in the same time period as other Group I books, the entire manuscript could not have been produced this early according to recent scholarship on the Psalter. See the section on dating for more information. 242 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 16. 243 Ibid., 23. 54

developed.244 The script in Group I books is “large, round, [and] quite variable over a long

section of text” (see images 9-11).245 Thomson speculates that the scribes might have

simultaneously worked as artists for Group I books.246 Scribes began to decorate initials in the

fourth century, and even in the twelfth century, this tradition continued.247 It cannot be

determined if the same people performed the function of both scribe and artist, but the two

occupations formed similar roles: “The script of the title-page takes on decorative qualities and

the artist is equally a master of calligraphic design.”248 That being said, scribe-artists are

portrayed as writing text and painting image. For example, a self-portrait of Isidore illustrates

him writing an “x,” but he is termed a painter in the manuscript.249

Richard’s successor, Geoffrey Gorron served as abbot from 1119 to 1146. Geoffrey has

recently been connected with Group II books.250 The manuscripts in Group II continue the

tradition of seeking out patristic texts, but they also show a predilection for classical works and

244 Ibid., 24. 245 Ibid., 23. The different hands are readily apparent in Style I. For example, in London, British Library Royal 13 D. vi f. 134v, one small and compact hand has written the first fourteen and a half lines. The interlinear space mirrors the height of the letters themselves. The second hand on the page has written the last eleven and a half lines on the page. This hand is larger and the letters encompass the majority of the line. As a consequence, there is not much interlinear space remaining between the lines. Both hands are forms of Caroline minuscule. The characteristic letter forms are evident in both hands: double compartment a, high s, and the straight-backed d. 246 Ibid., 24. 247 J.J.G. Alexander, “Scribes as Artists: the arabesque initial in twelfth-century English manuscripts,” in Medieval Scribes, Manuscripts & Libraries: Essays Presented to N.R. Ker, ed. M.B. Parkes and Andrew G. Watson (London: Scolar, 1978), 87-89. On the early mss see the following sources: Jonathan J.G. Alexander, Medieval Illuminators and Their Methods of Work (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1992), 72-94; Christopher De Hamel, A History of Illuminated Manuscripts, 2nd ed (New York and London: Phaidon Press, 2006), 9-41; Michelle P. Brown, “The Triumph of the Codex: The Manuscript Book before 1100,” in A Companion to the History of the Book, ed. Simon Eliot and Jonathan Rose (Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 179-93. 248 Alexander, “Scribes as Artists,” 116. 249 Ibid., 107. Alexander does not specify which manuscript contains the illustration of Isidore. 250 Thomson, The Ending of the ‘Alter Orbis,’ 29-30. In the 1982 study, Thomson associated Geoffrey with Group I books. 55

service books. The following authors appear in Group II: Pseudo-Jerome, Bede, Macrobius,

Cicero, Apuleius, Palladius, Hilary, Cassiodorus, Rabanus Maurus, Gregory the Great, and Hugh of St. Victor. Group II has several service books: a volume of computistical tables and musical tones and melodies (Leningrad, Public Library Q.v.I, 62); a psalter with hymns, antiphons, collects, and services (London, British Library Royal 2 A. x); a volume of Kyries, Glorias,

Graduals, and tropes (London, British Library Royal 2. B. iv); another psalter with canticles, creeds, litany, collects, and an office for the dead (London, Kew, Mr. B.S. Cron); a manuscript with a St. Albans Calendar and two computistical tables (Oxford, Bodleian Library Auct. D. 2.

6); a book that contains fragments of an Antiphoner, portions of a Sanctoral, and an imperfect

Gradual (Oxford, Bodeleian Library Laud. misc. 358); and a volume with a fragment of a sacramentary for St. Albans (Oxford, Bodleian Library Rawl liturg. C. 1).

As abbot, Geoffrey reassigned funds so that three scribes could be constantly paid.251 For an unknown reason, 252 he must have created a new “team” of scribes that succeeded in raising the standard of manuscripts produced at the scriptorium both in terms of the script and the decoration. 253 The team was headed by Scribe A’s successor, Scribe B who worked with a group of assistants (see images 12 and 13).254 Scribe B completed running headers, worked on charters,

251 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 22. 252 We can speculate on why Geoffrey created this new team. He might have wanted to enhance his own power and reputation. He also may have wanted to separate his abbacy from his predecessors. Geoffrey initiated many projects at St. Albans and thus may have wanted to increase the reputation of St. Albans itself. Brian Golding describes Geoffrey’s work: “He provided a new guest-hall, an infirmary with infirmary chapel and a chamber known as the Queen’s chamber, a lodging for the queen, the only woman allowed to stay in the house. He gave books and vestments to the abbey and above all he commenced the construction of a magnificent new shrine for the relics of St Alban, a work on which he spent the not inconsiderable sum of £60.” Golding, “Wealth and Artistic Patronage,” 109-10. 253 Thomson, The Ending of the ‘Alter Orbis,’ 29-30. 254 Ibid., 29. 56

rubricated books, wrote the main text, and corrected books.255 Group II demonstrates a different script from Group I, one that “is very rounded, regular, and strikingly uniform, so that the work of individual scribes is harder to isolate than for Group I. Pen-strokes are of even thickness, and never very broad, the body of the script large in proportion to ascenders and descenders” (see images 12 and 13).256 Over the course of a decade or two, the script at St. Albans became more consistent and less variable. This consistency demonstrates that the scriptorium became more organized and perhaps even more strict about the appearance of its books. The regularity in script would have made a book look more professional and may have called attention to its origins at

St. Albans scriptorium.

The majority of post-Conquest books produced at St. Albans, including Groups I and II contain some type of illustration, ranging from rubricated initials to full-page miniatures. Each manuscript in Groups I and II has at the very least plain initials that are colored in red and sometimes blue and green as well. Group I books have decorated initials, historiated initials, and miniatures (see images 16-19). Group II books show a preference for arabesque initials and historiated initials, but miniatures tend to be absent in these books (see images 20-22). Thomson has identified three books which have characteristics of both styles: Cambridge, Trinity College

B.2.19 has full-page arabesque initials and contains the hand of Scribe B; Oxford, Bodleian

Library, Laud. misc. 370 includes hands from Groups I and II; and London, British Library,

Egerton 3721 (image 13) contains the liturgical features of Group I and the hand of Scribe B from Group II.257 It seems that the designer(s) of group II manuscripts preferred initials to miniatures, a preference that has been attributed to the Normans: “For the Normans, it was the

255 Ibid., Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 29. 256 Ibid., 28. 257 Ibid., 86-92. 57

text that mattered and the art was therefore simply a garnish. They therefore subordinated the paintings to the written page and concentrated them inside the initials.”258 The Anglo-Saxons gave as much importance to the illustration as they gave to the words on the page.259 The Group I books intended for export were the most lavish in this category; three of the four books that

Thomson identifies contain miniatures.260 The St. Albans Psalter has forty full-page miniatures,

New York, Pierpont Morgan 736 has thirty-two full-page miniatures (see images 18 and 19) and finally, Verdun Bibliotèque Municipale 70 has one surviving miniature (but is thought to have had fourteen miniatures originally).261

Similar to the scribes, the artistic team included a master and his assistants. Unlike the scribes, only one artistic team is known; this team consisted of a master, known as the Alexis

Master, and his assistants (see figs 17-19). The team might have remained at St. Albans for two decades, and Thomson aligns the team’s work with Group I books.262 In general, this Master’s work ranges in date from the early twelfth century to c. 1140 and originates from various centers, including Bury and Canterbury. 263 Therefore, it is likely that the Alexis Master traveled

258 C.R. Dodwell, Anglo-Saxon Art: A New Perspective (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1982), 225. This does not mean that miniatures were absent from English books after the arrival or the Normans. Miniatures did start reappearing in manuscripts during the 1120s. Ibid., The Pictorial Arts of the West 800-1200 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), 324. 259 Ibid., Anglo-Saxon Art, 225. I believe the Anglo-Saxons favored illustration because it permitted them to express themselves in unique ways. Dodwell states that the Anglo-Saxons had a penchant for originality: “It is to them that we are indebted for the image of the Creator as the supreme Architect with dividers [ . . . ] The Anglo-Saxons too were the first—in the Harley Psalter—to show the entry into Hell as the mouth of a ravenous beast, as well as providing a version of the Washing of the Feet hitherto unknown in the West, the earliest surviving St John writing his divine testimony at the foot of the Cross, and the earliest known coronation of the Virgin. They also gave a number of different interpretations of the Trinity when any representation of it was relatively new” (Ibid., 117). 260 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 25. 261 Ibid., 25-26. 262 Ibid., 24. 263 Ibid., 26-27. 58

throughout southern England. Documentary authority does not exist to prove when exactly the

Master worked at St. Albans or even if he remained there for a set amount of time. His artistry is most apparent in two St. Albans manuscripts: The St. Albans Psalter and Cambridge, King’s

College 19.264 Other books have a style that resembles the Alexis Master’s, such as Oxford,

Christ Church 115.265 Thomson has placed all three of these manuscripts in Group I, but it is unlikely that the miniatures in the St. Albans Psalter were executed in the early twelfth century.

The Alexis Master introduced a unique artistic style to England: creating solid figures clothed in tightly draped garments, the Alexis Master deviated from the “light, sketchy effervescent Anglo-Saxon style.”266 In The Pictorial Arts of the West 800-1200, C.R. Dodwell describes the style of this master: the figures have “high-waisted proportions, long legs, and narrow silhouettes” a style similar to those of eleventh-century northern France.267 Influenced by

Norman art, the Alexis Master likewise displays technical affinities with , particularly with regard to his spatial layers and backgrounds.268 The Alexis Master uses color in radically different ways than the Anglo-Saxons did. According to Pächt, color for the Anglo-

Saxons served “to transcend the design, drawn with the pen or marked with the brush, and to create fluid boundaries, not only at the lateral periphery, but over the whole surface.”269

Conversely, the Alexis Master employs color in order to delineate forms and to distinguish

264 Ibid., 84-119. 265 Ibid., 111. Thomson claims the naked human in the initial P on f. 138v is not in the Alexis Master’s style (Ibid., 112). 266 Jane Geddes, “The Artists,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 267 Dodwell, The Pictorial Arts of the West, 329. 268 Ibid. 269 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 105-06. 59

between complex parts.270 Geddes also asserts that this Master renders human forms and clothes differently than Anglo-Saxon artists did. While Anglo-Saxon clothes seem weightless, the Alexis

Master creates clothes which adhere to the bodies underneath. 271 Another characteristic of the

Alexis Master is his penchant for faces in profile.272

The style of the Alexis Master was copied and became the “house style” at St. Albans.

Many manuscripts contain decoration in the style of the Alexis Master, but few actually can be directly attributed to him. There are seven Group I books that either contain work by the Alexis

Master or resemble his style. Interestingly, the Alexis Master worked mostly on books that St.

Albans later exported, such as the St. Albans Psalter, Hereford, Cathedral Library O. I. 8, and

New York, Pierpont Morgan Library 736.273 The Alexis Master did not directly work on any

Group II books, but his style is apparent in Oxford, Bodleian Library Auct. D.2.6, ff. 2-6.274

The St. Albans Psalter

In her book, The St. Albans Psalter: An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, Kristine Haney exclaims that the psalter “is generally regarded as the first surviving masterpiece of English illumination produced after the Norman Conquest. It would be a noteworthy book simply because of the sheer number of paintings . . . No other extant English manuscript is this

270 Ibid. 271 Geddes, “The Artists.” 272 Ibid. 273 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 25. 274 Ibid., 101.

60

copiously illustrated.”275 Geddes likewise echoes this sentiment, writing, “The St Albans Psalter is one of the most spectacular illuminated manuscripts of twelfth-century England.”276

The Psalter measures 27.6 x 18.4 cm and was originally covered in pig-skin, and the remains of the medieval binding display evidence of repair.277 Adding to this information, the St.

Albans Psalter Project claims that the manuscript received a new binding in the twentieth century, most likely in the 1930s.278 There are no paste-downs, but a flyleaf provides information about its previous ownership. A seventeenth- or eighteenth-century hand has written “L[iber]

Monasterii Lambspring 1657” on the top of the flyleaf.279 Haney believes ownership of the manuscript transferred to St. Godehard’s after Lampspring was suppressed in 1803.280

Composed of 209 folios, the Psalter is arranged in twenty-four quires which are not numbered. Rodney Thomson offers a succinct collation of the manuscript as it appeared in 1982:

1-28, 310, 42, 58, 6-1410, 1510 (lacks 8), 16-2210, 232 , 242. 281 Geddes duplicates this collation. 282

Haney, on the other hand, believes there are twenty-five quires, the twenty-third and twenty- fourth of which have one leaf each; she places the final two leaves in the twenty-fifth quire.283

Although there was no foliation the manuscript has been paginated in Arabic numerals in the

275 Kristine E. Haney, The St. Albans Psalter: An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith (New York: Peter Lang, 2002), 1. 276 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 197. 277 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 119. 278 Geddes, “Codicology,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). Ironically, however, the Aberdeen website does not discuss the implications of the digitization on the binding. In order to photograph the pages, the book probably needed to be disassembled, but no mention is made of this process or the current state of the manuscript. 279 Geddes, “Codicology.” 280 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 8. 281 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 119. 282 Geddes, “Codicology.” 283 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 3. 61

upper right corner of the rectos, an addition that probably happened in the nineteenth century. 284

There are no catchwords, no table of contents, and no index.

The ruling changes from quire to quire, most notably because the mise-en-page varies depending on the interaction of word and image. The calendar consists of thirty-five lines to the page and has been ruled in “lead and orange crayon.”285 However, Haney asserts that “lead and brown crayon” were used and the ruled space is 18 x 13.5 cm. 286 The miniature frames were ruled in lead in a space that measures 18.1 x 14.1 cm. 287 The Alexis Quire, contrarily, presents

“variable ruling,” but there are on average thirty-five lines of text to the page; in some instances, there seems to be evidence of “free hand writing.”288 For example, on page 57, the twelve lines of alternating red and blue text do not appear to be written on a ruled line. Although the first page of the Alexis quire only has twelve lines, owing to the half-page miniature, the remainder of the Alexis text is written on pages containing thirty-five or thirty-six each. The rest of the quire

(pp. 69-72), including the Christ at Emmaus miniatures and the Beatus Vir page, presents between sixteen and fifty-six lines to the page.

Like the Alexis Quire, the pages of the Psalms use more than one ruling pattern. From page seventy-four to page 330, the parchment has been ruled with lead and possibly also with a sharp point.289 Both the online project and Haney agree that the ruled space measures 18 x 10.8 cm and includes twenty-two lines per page. The remainder of the psalms and the additional prayers have been “heavily ruled with sharp point.”290 The mise-en-page alters for the pages

284 Geddes, “Codicology.” 285 Ibid. 286 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 3. 287 Ibid. 288 Geddes, “Codicology.” 289 Ibid. 290 Ibid. 62

containing the Litany (pp.403-408). The Litany is arranged in two columns which measure 20.4 x 5.9 cm.291 The final quire has been ruled in lead in a space that measures 23.1 x 15.2 cm.292

The quires have been written in different hands, evidence that the manuscript was a collaborative effort. Scholars have identified between five and six hands in the manuscript.

Thomson believes the first hand worked on the calendar (pp. 2-15); the second hand on the psalms and prayers (pp. 74-414); the third hand on the Alexis Quire (pp. 57-69 and pp.71-2), inscriptions for the psalms and the subsequent prayers, and added Roger the hermit’s Obit to the calendar; the fourth hand made additions to the Calendar and added an inscription to Psalm 105

(p. 285); the fifth hand produced two calendar entries: 27 May and 20 July. 293 Geddes, conversely, has identified six hands; she largely concurs with Thomson’s analysis, but she believes that an additional scribe, identified as scribe 6, worked on the outer bifolium of pages

74, 91, and 92 in quire six. 294

The hands of three of these scribes have been identified in other manuscripts produced at

St. Albans scriptorium.295 The main hand that appears in the calendar, Scribe 1, can be found in another St. Albans book: London, BL Harley 2624. This manuscript was produced in the first quarter of the twelfth century, and the hand in question wrote “marginal guides to ff. 3v-46v.”296

Scribe 3 is “well-represented” at St. Albans according to Geddes, and his hand is evident most

291 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 5; Geddes, “Codicology.” Both Geddes and Haney assert that page 331 initiates the double column format; in reality, though, only the pages which contain the Litany are in two columns. The rest of the material in quires six through twenty-two appears in one column. 292 Geddes, “Codicology.” 293 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 119. 294 Geddes, “The Scribes,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 295 Ibid. 296 Thomson, Manuscripts at St. Albans Abbey, 93. 63

prominently in London, BL Egerton 3721 on ff. 1v-7v. 297 Scribe 4’s hand appears in many other

St. Albans manuscripts: Cambridge, Emmanuel College 244; Cambridge, Pembroke College

180; Cambridge, Trinity College B.2.19 (62); Cambridge, Trinity College B.5.1 (147); London,

British Library Egerton 3721 (same as Egerton above); London, BL Harley 865; London, British

Library Royal 2 A. x; London, British Library Royal 2 B. iv; Oxford, Bodleian Library Bodl.

752; Oxford, Bodleian Library Laud. misc. 370; and New York, Pierpont Morgan791. This evidence shows that at least three hands in the St. Albans Psalter can be found in other books associated with St. Albans.

One impediment with connecting the St. Albans Psalter to St. Albans entirely is the different scripts which appear in the manuscript. Haney believes the psalm section was written by a scribe from Canterbury and was likewise copied there.298 Thomson similarly notes the main hand in the psalter as being not in the St. Albans style and not found in other “local” books.299

Just because the main hand of the psalms cannot be connected with another St. Albans manuscript does not mean this scribe was associated with another institution. The scribe for the psalms might have been a professional, either associated with another monastery or independent of an institution. Furthermore, he might have worked at St. Albans but the other manuscripts he worked on might have been lost or destroyed.

Despite the evidence of six distinct hands in the manuscript, they all use a form of

Caroline minuscule: each scribe utilizes the double compartment a, the high s, the straight backed d, and the three-shaped g. Decoration occurs throughout the manuscript, alternating

297 Geddes, “The Scribes.” 298 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 313. 299 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 25. 64

between red and blue initials. Rubrication is also evident, especially in the Alexis quire where entire lines of text alternate between red and blue ink.

Erasure occurs sporadically in the Psalter. The scribes themselves had a preference for striking through mistakes and adding omitted letters in the interlinear space above a misspelled word. For example, the last line on page 60 includes an abbreviation, “qr” above which an “a” has been added, indicating that the word should be expanded to “quar.” Much later erasure is evident in the calendar where the word “pope” has been eradicated in several places following the dissolution of the monasteries and England’s break with the Roman .

Wormald first noticed this erasure, an indication that the manuscript was still located in England during the sixteenth century. 300

Alterations and additions to the manuscript are prevalent. The most discussed addition to the manuscript is the pasted-on initial located on page 285 known as “the Christina initial” (see image 30). Morgan Powell argues that this initial, as a later amendment to the manuscript, replaced a previous one.301 Otto Pächt, conversely, believes that an original initial never was painted.302 Geddes feels the initial marks the point at which the Psalter was rededicated for

Christina.303

The calendar received additions in separate stages. The first one was made around 1123 when the obit for Roger the Hermit was written on 12 September.304 Others were made after

1155 but might have been as early as 1145.305 Wormald divides these additions into groups:

300 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 8. 301 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005): 322. 302 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 163. 303 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 199. I will take up this debate again in Chapter 5. 304 Geddes, “The Calendar”; Pächt, The St. Albans Psalter, 23. 65

1. feasts on the first day of the month,

2. eight female saints including Juliana (16 Feb.), Amalberga (10 July), Cristina (24

July), Fides (6 Oct.), translation of Etheldreda (17 Oct.), Fritheswitha (19 Oct.),

Hilda (17 Nov.), Felicitas (23 Nov.),

3. saints, especially English ones such as Guthlac (11 April), Dunstan (19 May),

Augustine of Canterbury (26 May), Oswin, King and martyr of Deira (20 August)

. . . St. Lambert, bishop and martyr of Liege (17 Sept.),

4. Dedication of Markyate Priory to 27 May and St. Margaret to 20 July. 306

After 1155, the obits of Christina of Markyate, her relatives, and people associated with St.

Albans were added to the calendar.307

The Beatus page (image 23, p. 72) shows accretion, and is “disorderly” and “a composite construction.”308 Geddes argues that the page is based on geometry, but if this is the case, other pages might portray the same mathematical formula and design. 309 Powell argues that the page has accrued over time and served as Geoffrey’s “drawing board.”310 The text of the Spiritual

Battle seems like an afterthought because it was started in the margins of page 71.311 The capitals in the right margin, next to the initial “B” appear to have been squeezed onto the page and

305 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 27. 306 Ibid., 25-27. 307 Ibid., 28. 308 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 306. The Beatus Page can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml. 309 Geddes, “Page 72 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 310 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 306. 311 Ibid. 66

Geddes calls them “irregular.”312 I agree more with Powell’s analysis on this page than with

Geddes. There is not enough evidence for the geometric argument to stand, but the page does look like additions were made over time. The Discourse of the Spiritual Battle is squeezed into the left and bottom margins, suggesting that it was added after the initial B.

Directly following the Beatus page, the first bifolium of the psalter section was redone.

Peter Kidd has argued that a different scribe executed the outer bifolium of quire six.313 The angular letters of this scribe have been associated with Style II, and according to Geddes, represent “a change of plan and clearly replace an earlier bifolio.”314Another change in the manuscript is the Litany which was revised. The original initial was supposed to depict the Holy

Trinity alone, but it was enlarged to portray praying nuns.315 The initial “K” has been distorted due to this change and words beneath the initial have been covered by the expanded decoration. 316

The decoration of the St. Albans Psalter has received much critical analysis, especially due to the artistry of the Alexis Master (see images 17-19). His artistry is most prominent in the forty full-page miniatures which follow the calendar.317 The miniatures depict scenes of Adam and Eve, the Life of Christ (except for the Crucifixion), the Life of St. Martin, and David as a musician (image 26).318 The Alexis Master additionally created the five tinted drawings in the

312 Geddes, “Page 72 Commentary.” 313 Geddes, “The Scribes.” The Beatus Page can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml. 314 Ibid. 315 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 320. 316 Ibid., 320-21. The significance of this alteration will be discussed in Chapter 5. 317 Geddes, “The Artists.” 318 David as a Musician can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page056.shtml. 67

Alexis Quire as well as the Beatus initial.319 Purportedly working beneath the Alexis Master, two other artists executed the calendar illustrations, the historiated initials accompanying the psalms, excluding the initial for Psalm 105, and the two miniatures on pages 416 and 417.320 A third artist is acknowledged as painting the Christina initial.321

C.R. Dodwell has thoroughly analyzed the initials and the styles of the two main artists who illustrated them.322 Dodwell asserts that these artists have a style similar to the Alexis

Master, but they seem to purposefully deviate from his exemplar: “However much the artists of the initials may have admired and been influenced by the full-page illustrations, it is clear that they were fundamentally alien and unsympathetic to the tradition there represented. Their own work is the assimilation of this more accomplished style to closer and better known traditions.”323 The two artists have a very similar style, but they do render human figures in slightly different ways. For example, the first artist paints more angular figures and enjoys using a striped pattern. 324 The second artist has a more developed sense of modeling and blends his colors smoothly.325 Artist 1 uses translucent colors and does not paint the under-drawing accurately. For example, “he simplifies the complex zig zag folds along the hem of a cloak to a

319 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 120. The Beatus Page can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml. 320 Ibid. 321 Geddes, “The Artists.” 322 Dodwell credits the first artist with the following illustrations: the initials from page 73 to 93, 134 to 155 and 193 to 284. Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 199. The first artist was responsible for the Calendar pictures and the miniatures on pages 416 and 417 (Ibid.). The second artist illustrated the remainder of the initials, except for the one on page 285 (Ibid.). 323 Ibid., 201. 324 Ibid., 199. 325 Ibid. 68

straight line. He prefers a straight and easy hair line, painting over delicate curls. He also omits essential parts of the iconography.”326 Artist 2 prefers “saturated hues.”327

Attempts to date The St. Albans Psalter have relied on both codicological evidence and an analysis of the Life of Christina of Markyate, a hagiography written by an anonymous monk at St. Albans. Most scholars believe that the St. Albans Psalter was adapted for Christina of

Markyate, the twelfth-century nun who was associated with St. Albans. The extent to which the book and its components were made for Christina will be discussed in chapters four and five.

Most scholars view the Psalter as a unified manuscript, one whose constituent parts were produced in the same period. As a consequence, they typically assign one date for the entire book. Scholars who propose a single date for the Psalter have tended to argue either for a date around 1123 or one in the 1140s or 1150s. Adolf Goldschmidt published the earliest study on the

Psalter in 1895. He dated the Psalter between 1115 and 1119, and he believed the manuscript was originally supposed to consist of the calendar and the psalms.328 This plan was foiled, however, by the Alexis Master who created the forty full-page miniatures; because the psalter lacked a Beatus initial, the Alexis Quire was added so that the last folio in the quire could serve at the Beatus page.329

In 1960, C.R. Dodwell, Otto Pächt, and Francis Wormald released a monograph entitled

The St. Albans Psalter. Although the authors wrote different sections of the book, they all agreed that evidence from the calendar suggested a date of c. 1123. C.R. Dodwell writes, “The evidence, therefore, would indicate that Roger died in 1121 or 22. So, if the entry of his obit in the calendar

326 Geddes, “The Artists.” 327 Ibid. 328 Geddes “The Debate.” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 329 Ibid. 69

of the St. Albans Psalter, in writing different from that of the main hand, does indicate the manuscript itself was written before his death, then one can say that it was written before

1123.”330 Pächt has little reservations about dating the entire psalter before 1123: “the obit of the death of Roger the Hermit, Christina’s ‘mentor’, entered in the Calendar as an addition, places this section and with it the whole ‘Christina plan’ before the year 1123. Not long after that date the whole work can be assumed to have been completed” with the exception of the patch attached to page 285 known as the Christina initial which was probably added in the 1130s.331

Francis Wormald believes that the Psalter and calendar were produced no earlier than 1119 and were completed before 1123 when Roger’s obit was added to the calendar.332 Based on the additions, the calendar was completed after 1155.333 Wormald contends that the entire manuscript probably took around thirty years to finish, owing to the additions.334 Given the composite nature of the manuscript and the amount of artwork in it, the creation of the St. Albans

Psalter as a whole probably did take many years. It could not have taken more than fifty years because the manuscript was produced for and presented to Christina in her lifetime.

Similar to Pächt, Dodwell, and Wormald, Thomson dates the entire Psalter to 1123 but believes a date between 1120 and 1130 could also be accurate.335 Thomson relies on evidence from the calendar to date the entire Psalter: “The date of 1123 was inferred from the obit of

Roger the Hermit, who died between 1121 and 1124, added to the Calendar by a hand responsible for a number of texts in the manuscript.”336

330 Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 280. 331 Ibid., 163. 332 Ibid., 277. 333 Ibid. 334 Ibid. 335 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 25. 336 Ibid. 70

Two scholars, C.H. Talbot and Christopher Holdsworth, have argued for a later dating of

the Psalter. According to Talbot, the manuscript was made after 1145 when Markyate Priory was

founded; Talbot bases his date on the Litany initial which includes an image of the Trinity. 337

Markyate was associated with the Trinity, and Talbot believes the Litany represents this

priory. 338 Christopher Holdsworth argues for a date between 1140 and 1146.339 The date 1123 seems too early because Christina was only associated with Markyate beginning in c. 1118, and she did not meet Geoffrey until c. 1124.340 Holdsworth connects the Emmaus miniatures to

Christina’s life, and based on the evidence in her vita, he reaches a date after 1140.341

Fewer scholars see the production as separate and the book as a composite. Kristine E.

Haney asserts that the manuscript was started after 1125 and might have been completed in the

1130s.342 Richard Gameson dates the entire Psalter somewhere between 1110 and 1130, but he feels the four sections are “separable.”343 Ursula Nilgen dates the Psalter in stages from c. 1123 to 1135.344 Crucial to Nilgen’s argument is the idea that Christina had another psalter first before she received the St. Albans manuscript. She believes the calendar was made first, followed by the Alexis Quire, and then the miniature cycle; these quires were added to Christina’s first

337 Geddes, “The Conclusion,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 338 Ibid. 339 Christopher J. Holdsworth, “Christina of Markyate,” in Medieval Women, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1978), 195. 340 Ibid. 341 Ibid. 342 Haney, Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 7 343 Gameson, Manuscripts of Early Norman England, 92. 344 Geddes, “The Debate” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 71

psalter.345 The psalm portion of the Psalter came last after Christina had a vision of the Trinity, probably between 1130 and 1135, and consequently the Litany depicts this vision. 346

Jane Geddes advocates a date of 1135, four years after Christina’s profession. 347 Geddes bases this date on the vision that Christina experienced in 1135 as well as on the Christina initial which was painted after the other initials.348 Geddes believes the book was put together in the same order as the Winchester Psalter: miniatures, calendar, psalms, and the miniatures of St.

Alban and David.349 Then, the first psalm was enlarged which required the addition of an initial

“B” on the verso.350 The last verso in the calendar quire was supposed to contain this initial.351

When Geoffrey decided to have the Alexis Quire created, the B which had been pasted to the back of the calendar was removed and added to the Alexis Quire (image 42, p. 57).352 Geddes posits a date in the 1130s for the Alexis Quire, anywhere from the mid 1130s to 1139-40.353

Building on Nilgen’s scholarship, Morgan Powell has dated each section of the Psalter separately, and has argued for the Alexis Quire as the earliest element in the book. Like Nilgen,

Powell thinks Christina owned another psalter before she received the St. Albans Psalter. The

Alexis Quire is an anomaly in the St. Albans Psalter: the parchment is too large for the book, the pages are unruled, the spacing is uneven, and the Beatus page does not match the style of the psalms which follow it.354 Powell raises an interesting and provocative idea: If the Alexis Quire

345 Ibid. 346 Ibid. 347 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 212. 348 Ibid. 349 Geddes, “The Conclusion.” 350 Ibid. 351 Ibid. 352 Ibid. 353 Ibid. 354 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 301-305. 72

came last, why was the Beatus page so crammed and repetitive of the pages that follow?355 There was no reason for the scribe to reiterate “EATUS VIR” on the Beatus page if the Psalms came first. Moreover, if the Alexis Quire came later than the psalms, it seems natural to wonder why the styles vary so much.

Powell dates both the Alexis Quire and the calendar between 1125 and 1130.356 If the assumption is accepted that Geoffrey proposed the addition of these elements to the book, they could not have been added to Christina’s initial psalter before 1124, when Christina took her formal vows. Powell sees the miniature cycle as an incentive for Christina to remain close to St.

Albans.357 The psalter or psalm section came last, between 1134 and 1140.358 Powell’s dating would place the Psalter firmly in the Group 2 books produced under Geoffrey.

The St. Albans Psalter is a composite manuscript, and its various parts came together over a period of years. Thus, each section should be dated separately, especially since accretion is a factor in each of its sections. Moreover, the scripts and artwork attest to the different time periods in which it was made. Although I agree with Powell’s dating overall, other scholars have assessed the dating of the calendar more accurately. Powell bases the calendar date on the first encounter of Geoffrey and Christina, an encounter which supposedly happened after 1124. There is no evidence to provide such an exact date for their meeting and relying solely on Christina’s vita cannot provide conclusive evidence. The data from the calendar allows it to be dated between 1119 and 1123. If the calendar was created entirely after c. 1123, there is no reason for

Roger’s name to be added in a different hand. Roger would have already been dead and his name would have been added when the main obits were originally entered. Francis Wormald writes,

355 Ibid., 301. 356 Ibid., 303-04. 357 Ibid., 304. 358 Ibid., 319. 73

“After 1155 the calendar was completed and a number of saints added to it as well as a number of obits by a hand who is known from other St. Albans MSS.”359 Additions were made to the calendar, probably after 1155 to record Christina’s death.

The Alexis Quire should be dated between 1125 and 1130 in accordance with the conclusions of both Powell and Thomson. The miniatures drawn by the Alexis Master can also aid the dating of this quire: the majority of this master’s work at St. Albans has been dated to the

1120s by Thomson. 360 Finally, because this quire has been associated with Christina’s and

Geoffrey’s friendship, The Life of Christina of Markyate can be used to date the quire.361 If the view is accepted that Geoffrey had this quire made for Christina, it could not have been created before they met, an event that might have happened in 1124. Scholars such as Powell and

Malcom Parkes have speculated that Geoffrey took a more active role in the production of this quire. Parkes asserts that Scribe 3, whose hand appears in this quire, “is neither monastic nor insular, but rather a northern French school hand,” and based on this evidence, he theorizes that

Geoffrey himself may have been Scribe 3.362 This hand has appeared in other books dating from the first third of the twelfth century. 363 Taking all of the data into consideration leads us to date the quire sometime between 1125 and 1130.

The miniature cycle, placed after the calendar and designed by the Alexis Master, was produced after the Alexis Quire, probably in the late 1120s or early 1130s. Powell argues, “[T]he

Emmaus pictures as they are understood and implemented within the Alexis quire are the

359 Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 277. 360 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 26 and124. 361 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 207; Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 303; Diane Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing: Works by and for Women in England, 1100-1500 (Cambridge: Polity, 2007), 26. 362 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 302. 363 Ibid. 74

prototype from which the picture cycle was developed.”364 Because both the cycle and the Alexis

Quire were illustrated by the Alexis Master, it is possible that they were made at the same time.

If Christina of Markyate was the intended recipient of the cycle is accepted, then a later date could be argued for it. The miniature cycle, unlike the Alexis Quire, was a major artistic endeavor; it would not have been made for a woman who was a fugitive and might not have been given to an unprofessed woman. 365 Powell has convincingly argued that the miniature cycle could entice Christina to remain near St. Albans and thus, would have been given to her after her formal profession. 366

The psalter portion was produced after the other sections. As Powell notes, in such a well-spaced and planned psalm section, the Beatus page (Page 72) is an anomaly.367 If the Alexis

Quire came last, questions must be raised about why the Beatus page does not accord with the psalter which follows it.368 Overall, it has been hard to date this section in the manuscript because its main hand cannot be found in other St. Albans books. Haney believes this hand can be found in manuscripts produced at Bury or Canterbury. It is possible that an exemplar came from one of these two houses and that a scribe, perhaps a professional one not associated with St.

Albans copied the psalm text. The resemblance of the psalm hand with another scriptorium does not indicate the psalm section was made elsewhere. The style of the initials can also provide this section with a later date. These initials are in the style of the Alexis Master but were not actually executed by him. Otto Pächt writes, “In the group of the historiated initials—to which, stylistically, the Calendar decoration and the two full-page miniatures at the end also belong—

364 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 328. 365 Ibid., 297. 366 Ibid., 304. 367 The Beatus Page can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml. 368 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 301. 75

everything is simplified, flattened, less organic, more schematic . . . In other words, in the historiated initials we meet the novel achievements of the Alexis Master in a diluted, derivative form.”369 As Thomson has mentioned, the Alexis Master was responsible for creating a house style for St. Albans, and it is clear from Pächt’s description that the initials are in the style of the

Alexis Master but must have been produced after him by the artists he trained.

Each section in the St. Albans Psalter has traditionally been associated with St. Albans, but recent scholarship has suggested that the calendar and the psalter might have originated at other scriptoria. The only component which can be definitively associated with St. Albans is the

Alexis Quire because it contains work by the Alexis Master, and it might also contain the hand of

Geoffrey. The calendar might have been adapted from other materials rather than made at St.

Albans.370

The psalms as well might have been created at another center and then adapted for use at

St. Albans. The psalm titles were written by Scribe 3, a hand which might be Geoffrey’s.

Kristine E. Haney most adamantly argues that the St. Albans Psalter was based on an exemplar, now lost, from Canterbury. The scribe, whose hand wrote the main text of the psalms, might have belonged to Canterbury also. I would instead argue that the psalter portion of the St. Albans

Psalter was in fact made at St. Albans. Jane Geddes has pointed out on the website that certain initials appear to have been painted before the psalm text was written on the page. This fact demonstrates that the scribe and artist worked in conjunction—the scribe did not completely finish copying the psalms before they were handed to the artist. In most cases, it appears that the scribe did complete his work before the artist began working on the initial. The initial was painted first for Psalms 12 and 13, located on pages 91 and 92. This was the last folio in quire

369 Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 153. 370 The calendar is discussed in greater depth in chapter four. 76

six, a folio which Powell believes was added later. The initial for Psalm 38 on page 147 seems to have been designed before the text was written. The writing for Psalm 51 on page 173 may not have been totally completed when the initial was started. Letters were omitted because the initial was too big. Some words were written later on page 221 for Psalm 76. The initial was drawn before the text on page 256 for Psalm 97. Geddes believes the line of script at the bottom of page

320 may have been written after the initial was painted for Psalm 118:73. Similarly, for Psalm

118:98 on page 323, the initial was probably sketched before the script was written. There are not many cases in which the initial was done first, but these few cases do demonstrate that production on the script and initials did not happen completely separately.

This chapter has provided an overview of St. Albans scriptorium and the St. Albans

Psalter and has attempted to argue that the Psalter was, in fact, made at St. Albans. In chapter three, I will focus on the history of image creation and acceptance in Christianity and will discuss the theories of Gregory the Great.

77

CHAPTER THREE

This chapter discusses the important place that images held within a text; rather than being subordinate to texts, images served an integral purpose in a work and did not merely function to illustrate the words. This chapter will show that images should be regarded on an equal level with texts and served an important meditative purpose.

General Importance of Images

Christianity as a religion employed images from at least the third century CE, and as will be seen in this chapter, Gregory the Great solidified the use of images in the sixth century.

Besides images, relics were sought and proudly displayed in churches or in processions and illustrated manuscripts offered a visual interpretation of the gospels or religious texts. Interior wall paintings, tapestries, and stained glass adorned churches and would have been accessible to all Christians. The wall paintings at St. Albans, for example, consist of several Crucifixion scenes on nave piers, a Virgin and Child icon, the , and drawings of saints. These paintings, although they are much faded and in places indecipherable, take up the majority of the nave piers on which they were sketched.

These various images provided evidence of the presence of saints and their continued intercession in the world. They showcased the splendor and greatness of God. They reminded

Christians not only of what had been done but also of what had been written, providing testament to the lives of holy people and the miracles they performed. According to Hans Belting, when

Christians studied portrayals of the saints, they really were meditating upon the saints’ lives.371

371 Hans Belting, Likeness and Presence: A History of the Image before the Era of Art , trans. Edmund Jephcott (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 10. 78

Despite the prevalence of religious artwork in contemporary society and western medieval Christendom, the early Church in the first and second centuries did not condone the use of images. In doing so, it sought to distinguish itself from pagan religions 372 and follow the example set by Judaism. Taking its cue from the Second Commandment which advises against the creation of likenesses,373 Judaism forbid the presence of images in synagogues.374

Christianity, following the tradition set by Judaism, largely derived its early image doctrine from the Old Testament.375 Deuteronomy 27:15 and St. Paul were additional sources that specifically targeted idol-makers.376 Deuteronomy condemns those who would create idols: “maledictus homo qui facit sculptile et conflatile abominationem Domini opus manuum artificum ponetque illud in abscondito et respondebit omnis populus et dicet amen. 377 Paul repeatedly warns against consuming sacrifices made to idols in Corinthians 8. The Epistles to the Romans offers an explanation of what happens to idolaters: According to the Latin Vulgate Bible, Romans 1:23-24

372 Ibid., 144. Belting writes, “The religious community did not approach a cult image but assembled around the altar, or mensa, where sacrifice addressed an invisible God. The church did not house a divine image, as the cella of the pagan temple had done, since such images were vigorously opposed as idols, which had led the pagans into error” (Ibid.). Christians even refrained from paying obeisance to depictions of the imperial emperor (Ibid.). Ernst Kitzinger states, “At first Christianity was averse to any kind of image, rejecting it not only as a possible source of idolatry but also as a symbol of wordly spendour and luxury.” Early Medieval Art, rev. ed. (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1983), 12. 373 Michael Camille, The Gothic Idol: Ideology and Image-making in Medieval Art (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989), 27. 374 William J. Diebold, Word and Image: An Introduction to Early Medieval Art (Boulder: Westview, 2000), 12. Lawrence Nees writes, “Drawing upon Jewish traditions enshrined in the Old Testament, the earliest Christians made no significant place for visual art in their religious practice. In this respect both Jews and Christians were highly unusual among the many peoples inhabiting the vast Roman world, for whom visual images were a normal part of both secular and religious life.” Early Medieval Art (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 31. 375 Camille, The Gothic Idol, 27. 376 Ibid. 377 Douay-Rheims Catholic Bible. Web. http://www.drbo.org/chapter/05027.htm 13 March 2011. The Latin Vulgate Bible has been translated into English: “Cursed be the man that maketh a graven and molten thing, the abomination of the Lord, the work of the hands of artificers, and shall put it in a secret place: and all the people shall answer and say: Amen.” 79

states “[23] et mutaverunt gloriam incorruptibilis Dei in similitudinem imaginis corruptibilis hominis et volucrum et quadrupedum et serpentium [24] propter quod tradidit illos Deus in desideria cordis eorum in inmunditiam ut contumeliis adficiant corpora sua in semet ipsis.”378

Aside from the Bible, classical sources, such as Plato, were reticent about the appropriateness of images.379 In The Republic, Plato describes artists as imitators, artificers who do not represent truth but only a shadow of it: “Then imitation is far removed from the truth, for it touches only a small part of each thing and a part that is itself only an image.”380 An imitator “has neither knowledge nor right opinion about whether the things he makes are fine or bad.”381 Because these images do not represent the truth, they can corrupt those who view them.382 Biblical and classical sources alike dissociate the image or visual representation from truth. Images, for the early Church, were only acceptable if they were divinely created.383

Christianity began accepting visual images in the third and fourth centuries as long as they were not worshipped as idols.384 A larger historical reason might have prevented the acceptance of images for Christians. For example, Emile Mâle argues that narrative art, or art that depicts a story, could flourish only after the persecution of Christians ended; as a

378 Douay-Rheims Catholic Bible. Web. “[23]And they changed the glory of the incorruptible God into the likeness of the image of a corruptible man, and of birds, and of fourfooted beasts, and of creeping things. [24] Wherefore God gave them up to the desires of their heart, unto uncleanness, to dishonour their own bodies among themselves.” (Romans 1:23-24). 379 Diebold, Word and Image, 12. 380 Plato, The Republic, trans. G. M. A. Grube (Indianapolis, Hackett, 1992), 598b. 381 Ibid., 602a. 382 Ibid., 605b-c. 383 Camille, The Gothic Idol, 30. 384 Diebold, Word and Image, 12. 80

consequence, narrative art dealing with the Old and New Testaments grew from the fourth to the sixth centuries.385

Even after the general acceptance of religious and devotional artwork in the fourth century, clerical authorities and theologians continued to debate the function and appropriateness of images. The Church Fathers, in both the East and the West, worried about the use of images by the general population, by people who were uneducated and in some cases recent converts from pagan religions. Simply telling the laity to look at, but not to worship, artwork could not have been a foolproof method to prevent image worship, in particular for new converts who might have formerly venerated statues as gods. In other words, the laity might begin to see the icon or statue as a god, as the actual deity to worship and not merely as a representation of the unseen God.

These arguments were often more extreme and long-lasting in the East than in the West.

Although the West did not often destroy icons or images, many theologians, bishops, and clerical authorities in the Roman church did participate in councils and write treatises on the suitability of religious art. Both Serenus (the Bishop of Marseilles) and Theodulf (the Carolingian author of the Libri Carolini) espoused iconoclast sentiments. Serenus even actively destroyed visual art in his churches.

Gregory the Great on Images

The destruction of images by Serenus received attention from Gregory the Great, the sixth-century pope. Unlike Serenus, Gregory advocated more lenient ideas on artwork and its use, ideas which have been preserved in four letters: two to Serenus, one to Januarius, and one to

385 Emile Mâle, Religious Art in France: The Twelfth Century A Study of the Origins of Medieval Iconography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 53. 81

Secundinus. These letters were quoted throughout the rest of the Middle Ages,386 a fact that

Carol Straw attributes to Gregory’s language and answers to questions.387 Besides the readability of his prose, Gregory was an important pope and he, unlike Augustine, saw the practical purpose in using images especially with new converts.388

Writing to Serenus of Marseilles, Gregory defends the preservation of images, as opposed to their destruction, for the edification of the illiterate who cannot read Scripture and find truth in the written Word. Rather than worshipping the picture itself, Christians can learn, through the representation, what they should worship in addition to learning about the lives of saints. The St.

Albans Psalter contains this letter in both Latin and Anglo-French, and the Latin version has been transcribed here:

[E missing]cce responsu[m] s[an]c[t]i gregorii secundino incluso

Aliud est picturam adorare · aliud //ratione[m] de pict[ur]is int[er]roganti ·

per picture historia[m] quid sit adorandu[m] addiscere · Nam quod legentib[us]

scriptura hoc ignotis prestat pictura · q[u]a in ipsa ignorantes vident quid

5 sequi debeant · In ipsa legunt qui litteras nesciunt · Unde & precipue

gentibus pro lectione pictura est · Quod magnopere tu qui inter gentes

habitas adtendere debueras · ne dum recto zelo incaute succenderis · ferocibus

386 It is important to note that audiences change over time. Even though Gregory’s letter was written for a sixth-century audience, it continued to be used despite the fact that the audience of the letter changed drastically. According to Herbert L. Kessler, the audience for Gregory’s letters was constantly redefined, and it altered over time. “Gregory the Great and Image Theory in Northern Europe during the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries,” in A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph (Malden: Blackwell, 2006), 158. 387 Carol Straw, Gregory the Great: Perfection in Imperfection (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 22. 388 Celia Chazelle, “Memory, Instruction, Worship: ‘Gregory’s’ Influence on Early Medieval Doctrines of the Artistic Image,” in Gregory the Great: A Symposium, ed. John C. Cavadini (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), 182. 82

animis scandalum generares · frangi go [ergo? er missing] non debuit quod non ad

adorandum

in eccl[es]iis · set ad instruendas solum modo mentes nescientium constat

collocatu[m]

10 & quia in locis venerabilib[us] s[an]c[t]orum depingi historias non sine ratione

vetustas admisit · si zelum discrecione condisses · sine dubio & ea que intende

bas salubrit[er] obtinere & collectum gregem non disperdere · set pocius poteras

congregare · ut pastoris intemeratum nomen excelleret non culpa disp[er]soris

incumberet · 389

Gregory’s proposal that illustration should be considered to be the “book of the illiterate” requires clarification. His literal language implies that just as a person could glean knowledge from perusing a book so too could someone learn information from studying a visual

389 Sue Niebrzydowski, trans, “Page 68 Transcription and Translation,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/translation/trans068.shtml (accessed April 3, 2013). The St. Albans Psalter. The University of Aberdeen, 68. The website provides the following translation for the Latin version of Gregory’s letter: “See here the reply of holy Gregory to Secundinus the hermit who was asking for an explanation about pictures: It is one thing to worship a picture; another to learn, through the story of a picture, what is to be worshipped. For the thing that writing conveys to those who read, that is what a picture shows to the illiterate; in the picture itself those who are ignorant see what they ought to follow. In [the picture] itself those who are unacquainted with letters [are able to] read. Whence, and particularly among common folk, a picture serves in place of reading. And towards this especially you, who dwell among the peoples, ought to direct your attention, much rather than that you should inadvertently inflame trouble by your righteous zeal; and through headstrong spirits you should give rise to a stumbling block. Therefore there has been no need for the breaking down of what was not intended for worship in the churches. But it is agreed to keep in place what is purely and simply for instructing the minds of the ignorant; also because, in venerable places belonging to saints, antiquity has sanctioned, not without reason, that their stories should be depicted. If you hide your zeal with prudence, without doubt you might be able both to obtain advantageously those things which you were intent upon, and avoid scattering the collected flock. But rather you might gather them together, so that the undefiled name of shepherd may flourish, and the reproach of [being] a destroyer not weigh upon you.” 83

representation. This approach suggests that the information in a book could be translated to an image and vice versa which is simply an impossibility. Art and literature cannot ever completely replace each other. T.A. Heslop writes that “words and images are not directly convertible currencies. Each has traditions which defy direct translation into the other.”390 Certainly, there is overlap between these visual and verbal categories: ekphrastic literature can paint a picture with words, and graphemes themselves can be rendered creatively so they appear artistic (see images

13-15). Moreover, art and literature both have the ability to convey narrative accounts.391 A story could be told through words in literature or through a cycle of visual images.392

For complex ideas or narratives, words are essential.393 The illustration of the Jesse Tree provides an example of this concept. Even though the Jesse Tree was a standard image by the twelfth century, it would not have made sense without verbal or written instruction. 394

Understanding this visual work required the viewer to either refer to Isaiah 11:1 or to learn about the lineage of David in a sermon. 395 Without this knowledge, the viewer would have to rely on his or her own assumptions or simply remain dumbfounded. As a consequence, representations of the Jesse Tree could not have functioned as a synoptic text for the illiterate.396 The Jesse Tree example shows that without instruction or education, viewers could not correctly interpret art.

390 T. A. Heslop, “Late twelfth-century writing about art, and aesthetic relativity,” in Medieval Art: Recent Perspectives, ed. Gale R. Owens-Crocker and Timothy Graham (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1998), 129. 391 Diebold, Word and Image, 71. 392 Ibid. 393 Ibid., 74. 394 Camille, “Seeing and Reading: Some Visual Implications of Medieval Literacy and Illiteracy,” Art History 8, no. 1 (March 1985), 34. 395 Camille, “Seeing and Reading,” 34. 396 Ibid. 84

Scholarship echoes the sentiment that viewers often do not correctly interpret artwork in the way intended by their artists.397 Lawrence G. Duggan argues that the illiterate would have needed knowledge in order to read an image correctly and without this instruction would have been at a disadvantage in interpreting visual art: “[T]he illiterate cannot read the picture-signs so as to gain new knowledge, and by definition he cannot read words. He may happen to identify correctly in the picture what he already knows, he may easily misconstrue it, he can ‘read into’ it all sorts of interpretations shaped by his previous experience—but without help from someone

(or something) else he can learn nothing new and possibly cannot even guess correctly the primary meaning of the painting.”398 A misinterpretation could lead people into believing whatever they want to believe, a dangerous ground that could lead to idolatry, to worshipping whatever and whomever they want. As a consequence, medieval viewers were not encouraged to interpret artwork. Considering his sixth-century audience, Gregory probably intended images to serve as reminders of what the illiterate had learned through oral instruction; these images could then entice the illiterate to lead more virtuous lives by reviewing what they had previously learned and meditating upon those lessons.399

Even if the same concepts could be conveyed through different media, an illiterate person would not have read an image any easier than he would a book. Visual art has its own signs and viewers needed to learn how to read these signs. Just as children learned to read Latin by studying psalters or Books of Hours in the later Middle Ages, people required training in order to interpret visual art. The skills used for reading a book cannot necessarily be translated to the

397 Lawrence G. Duggan, “Was art really the ‘book of the illiterate?,’” Word & Image 5, no. 3 (July-Sept. 1989), 242. 398 Ibid., 244. 399 Chazelle, “Pictures, books, and the illiterate: Pope Gregory I’s letters to Serenus of Marseilles,” Word & Image 6, no. 2 (April-June 1990),147-48. 85

visual arts. A western, Christian book is read from top to bottom and from left to right; however,

many strategies help people read stained glass windows: from the bottom to the top, from the

right to the left, or from the center outward.400 Narrative art must be read differently than text:

“The essential point is that narrative art demands a ‘recitation’ rather than a reading, and where

verbal clues are lacking it is natural to confabulate in order to give a story that will satisfactorily

explain the relationships between events and between protagonists.”401 Interpreting artwork

required a discussion about how it should be read and interpreted. Although artwork, as

Madeleine H. Caviness argues, should be read differently than text, how an individual would

have chosen to “read” an image cannot be determined. However, it is important to note that the

audiences of religious artistic image, whether a wall painting or miniature, would have been

limited to a monastic or priestly circle.402 As a consequence, the viewers of artwork would have

had the education and learning in order to understand and contemplate the images in question.

Gregory’s letter to Serenus does not mention that the bishop should instruct the illiterate

in the nature of the pictures on display, but specifies that he should not destroy the images in

question. Oral instruction on the part of the ecclesiastic representative might have been second

nature or might have been assumed to be necessary. Duggan asserts that people largely learned

400 Madeleine H. Caviness, “Biblical Stories in Windows: Were They Bibles For the Poor?,” in The Bible in the Middle Ages: Its Influence on Literature and Art, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 89, ed. Bernard S. Levy (Binghamton: Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 1992), 123-24. 401 Ibid., 124. 402 Madeline Harrison Caviness, “Reception of Images by Medieval Viewers,” in A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph (Malden: Blackwell, 2006), 72. Caviness writes, “Yet for liturgical objects, it has to be remembered ho w elitist the user group was, restricted in fact to the priesthood, with a viewing community of those in close proximity to the altar. The eyes of the laity were diverted from the High Altar that was used for daily mass by choir screens that divulged little of the mystery (Ibid.); Richard Gameson, The Role of Art in the Late Anglo-Saxon Church (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 56-7;

86

by listening to oral lessons.403 For those who could not read, speech was privileged over the written word and visual illustration. Alberto Manguel writes, “But reading out loud was not only considered normal; it was also considered necessary for the full comprehension of a text.

Augustine believed that reading needed to be made present; that within the confines of a page the scripta, the written words, had to become verba, spoken words, in order to spring into being. For

Augustine, the reader had to breathe life into a text, to fill the created space with living language.”404 If the living voice held greater importance than either writing or art, it seems natural or commonplace that reading would be performed audibly. Similarly, viewing an artwork would require a return to the voice; verbal instruction would need to accompany the art.

Gregory’s beliefs on the universe reveal that for him, instruction was indispensable.

Based on Gregory’s thought on the hierarchical order of the universe, it can be infered that he held clergy responsible for instructing Christians in their diocese correctly. Superiors were accountable for the behavior of those beneath them. Consequently, clerics needed to convey

Scriptures to those who could not read so that they could behave morally.405 In addition,

Gregory’s belief that images were useful for instruction relates to his idea that the carnal can lead to the spiritual. Observing the physical world of the senses, people can learn about God.406 Straw describes how Gregory connected the carnal and spiritual: “In Gregory’s sacramental vision, carnal signs mediate between this world and the next. Carnal means attain spiritual ends, and the things of this world are often vehicles of spiritual experience.”407 Man-made images belong in

403 Duggan, “Was art really the book of the illiterate?,” 245. 404 Alberto Manguel, “How Those Plastic Stones Speak: The Renewed Struggle between the Codex and the Scroll,” Times Literary Supplement, July 4, 1997. 405 Straw, Gregory the Great, 87, 202. Some Christians could rely solely on direction from the Holy Spirit, but these were not very numerous (Ibid., 72-73). 406 Ibid., 33. 407 Ibid., 47. 87

the physical world of man, but they can be used to learn about God, the saints, and spiritual matters.

Gregory’s approach problematizes the use of images by literate people. By associating illiteracy with visual art in the sixth century, Gregory implies that literate people would have benefitted from visual images, but illiterate people would have benefitted from them even more.

If this were the case, there would have been little to no need for monasteries to possess wall paintings or for manuscripts to include miniatures or historiated initials. Since it is known that religious houses did in fact possess both of these types of art, it is erroneous to conclude that they were only there to assist the illiterate, especially when the unlettered would have only visited a monastery infrequently. Later, in the twelfth century, certain male ecclesiastics, such as Goscelin and Bernard of Clairvaux, favored the word above the image, but pictures still existed in books intended for literate men. For example, Æthewold’s Benedictional contained illustration.

Æthelwold might have controlled who could see his manuscript, when they could see it, what leaves or quires of the book they could view, and how they interpreted it.408 Richard Gameson does not specify if the potential readers of the Benedictional would have been considered illiterate or not. Whether literate or illiterate, these viewers would have had the experience with the book mediated for them. For Christina, mediation could not have been constant; there were moments when Christina was completely alone with her Psalter and could formulate her own opinions.

408 Richard Gameson, The Role of Art in the Late Anglo-Saxon Church (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 58. 88

Inclusion of Gregory’s Letter in the St. Albans Psalter

Whether Gregory viewed illustration as appropriate only for the illiterate cannot be determined.

In fact, Gregory’s intentions might not have mattered, especially centuries after he wrote the letters. The letters were often used in support of positions that differed from the thought-pattern of the sixth-century pope.409 For example, Theodulf of Orleans, the author of the Libri Carolini, misunderstood Gregory’s viewpoints. Even though Gregory perceived images as useful and didactic, especially for the illiterate, Theodulf used Gregory as a source to advance his own argument that all forms of image-worship were immoral in his Libri Carolini, written in 793.410

The Lateran Council, which took place in 769, also used Gregory as a source, and it proposed that image veneration was acceptable:

“The worship paid to an image of a Christian event or holy person was recognized

by the council to be an expression of the viewer’s love for the image’s prototype,

a means to honor God, and the equivalent of the honors owed to the relics of

saints, to basilicas dedicated to saints, and to the Cross. The images deserved

such reverence because they were holy, might work miracles or be miraculously

made, led the viewer to remember and contemplate the holy beings they

represented, and stirred compassion.”411

Gregory’s viewpoint does not completely accord with either of these later sentiments. Gregory spoke against the destruction of images, and he felt image-worship or image-veneration was idolatrous. Gregory could be interpreted differently because his ideas were rather vague and

409 Chazelle, “Memory, Instruction, Worship,” 182. 410 Ibid., 188-89. 411 Ibid., 186. 89

contradictory. 412 In addition, his ideas were quoted often, which might have led to confusion and misappropriation.

As has already been mentioned, Gregory’s letter to Serenus appears on page sixty-eight of the St. Albans Psalter in both Latin and Anglo-French. The top of page sixty-eight contains the six final lines of the Chanson de Alexis. Directly following this text is the Latin version of

Gregory’s letter. The letter forms are compressed and are half the size of those in the Chanson directly above it. The scribe has minimized the lines, completing the Latin version of the letter in twelve lines. Beneath the Latin text is the Anglo-French one. The letter forms are slightly larger in this version and the Anglo-French letter encompasses sixteen lines of text. A green initial A accompanies the Latin version and a red initial A opens the French version. Jane Geddes notes that the graphic compression was unnecessary given the “surplus space” at the bottom of the page.413 Due to the well-planned spacing of the Chanson, the inclusion of Gregory’s letters seem rushed, unplanned, and perhaps even an afterthought.414 Despite its seemingly rushed quality, the inclusion of Gregory’s letter is not a random or spontaneous addition to the manuscript.

According to Morgan Powell, the Alexis Quire presents evidence of accretion and a haphazard construction. Powell concludes that the entire quire “represents the distilled and materialized results of Geoffrey’s ‘spiritual conversations’ with Christina.”415 The letters document Geoffrey and Christina’s discussion of artwork and its purpose in manuscripts.

Given the full-page miniature cycle and 211 historiated initials in the St. Albans Psalter, this letter seems to have a specific purpose. The most obvious conclusion is that the letter

412 Ibid., 185; Straw, Gregory the Great, 22. 413 Jane Geddes, “Commentary to Page 68,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project. Web. http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page068.shtml 414 Ibid. 415 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005), 306. 90

justifies the extravagance of the illustration and attempts to provide a concrete purpose for the miniatures and initials rather than to decorate the book or glorify a patron. Perhaps the designer of the manuscript was defensive and relied upon Gregory, a Church Father, to demonstrate the usefulness of images. When considering that the book was most likely made for Christina of

Markyate, the designer’s supposed vigilance becomes more understandable; for several years,

Christina was a fugitive, and might even have been married. Moreover, she was not directly connected with St. Albans but was formally a dependant of St. Paul’s in London. 416 If the manuscript was created for Christina, given her dubious background, it seems likely that justification may have been warranted. After all, the designer took a risk in presenting Christina with a book when he could have retained the book for St. Albans and the monks there instead or given it to a royal or noble person, people who might have been deemed more worthy of the book than Christina.

Besides justifying the illustrative program, the letters might have been included for edification. This didactism has been connected with Geoffrey who worked as a schoolmaster before becoming the abbot of St. Albans. Scholars such as Thomas Tipton have considered

Christina’s literacy in light of Gregory’s letter: “First, Christina was fluent in French, but not in

Latin, and the translations of the letter and the Life of Alexis were therefore meant for her own reading. Second, the French and Latin were used as primer texts. If Christina were fluent in

French she might learn Latin through the translation.”417 This reasoning is not entirely

416 Henrietta Leyser, “Christina of Markyate: The Introduction,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 6-7; Sharon R. Elkins, Holy Women of Twelfth-Century England (Chapel Hill and London: University of Carolina Press, 1988), 46. Elkins asserts that the nuns at Markyate were permitted to use the hermitage as long as “they paid three solidos a year” to St. Paul’s (Ibid.). 417 Thomas Tipton, “The Toads on the Text: The Spirituality of Psalter Reading in the Life of Christina of Markyate,” Proceedings of the Medieval Association of the Midwest 3 (1995): 56. 91

satisfactory; the letters are short, so the chances of Christina or another woman at Markyate learning Latin by translation would most likely be slim. If the Alexis Quire served to educate

Christina, it must be considered why the Chanson de Alexis was included only in Anglo-French.

Space considerations would have been an issue, but the possibility should not be neglected that the Chanson, being longer than the letter, would have provided greater practice at “learning by translation.” Moreover, the psalms themselves could have been written in multiple languages; the

Eadwine Psalter was written in three languages and included illustrations as well.418

The inclusion of the letters can also suggest the continued interest in Gregory in the twelfth century. Rodney M. Thomson states that Gregory’s writings were an important component of monastic libraries after the Conquest: when English libraries were standardized, they began to be composed of two-thirds patristic texts.419 In order of popularity, libraries consisted of Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose, Bede, and Gregory. 420 Gameson reveals that between

1066 and 1130 Gregory is “represented in sixty-one books, of which about a quarter, it should be noted, are single parts of three-volume sets of the Moralia in Iob.”421 Gameson emphasizes the importance Gregory continued to have for this period: extant manuscripts of Gregory’s works are smaller in number than those of Augustine, Bede, and Jerome.422 However, the consideration must be made that Gregory only wrote six works, and these works were not easily excerpted or divided into smaller sections.423 Gameson concludes, “If, incidentally, we based our calculations

418 The Eadwine Psalter postdates the St. Albans Psalter, so we cannot rely on the former to help us elucidate the dual languages in the latter. 419 Rodney M. Thomson, The Ending of ‘Alter Orbis’: Books and Learning in Twelfth-Century England. The Lyell Lectures for 2000-2001 (Walkem: Red Gulf, 2006), 23. 420 Ibid. 421 Richard Gameson, The Manuscripts of Early Norman England (c. 1066-1130) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 33. 422 Ibid. 423 Ibid. 92

on the number of surviving pages by the author in question (i.e. taking the length of the works into account), and not on the number of separate codices in which he appears, Gregory would certainly rise into third place above Jerome, and might even rival Bede for second place.”424

Moreover, Gregory’s works continued to be used and glossed. Most notably, manuscripts of the Regula Pastoralis were glossed by the Tremulous Hand of Worcester (13th century).

Wendy Collier asserts that the Hand wanted these works to be used, especially since he “is marking for use a variety of theological and pastoral topics, and many of these relate to matters which, whilst always of interest and importance to the clergy, were of particular importance in

England in the years after the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215.”425 This evidence demonstrates that Gregory’s works were still being used for theologically significant reasons. They were not being glossed because they had a historical significance but because they were still being used and relied upon.

The purpose of Gregory’s letter in the St. Albans Psalter cannot be accurately determined. It is not possible to know for sure why Gregory’s letter was incorporated into the St.

Albans Psalter. However, it was most likely included either at the request of Geoffrey or executed by his hand directly, if one accepts the theory, discussed in chapter two, that Geoffrey was Scribe 3 in the St. Albans Psalter. Geoffrey might have worked as the scribe for the Alexis

Quire, the quire in which the letter appears. As the preconception of the Psalter,426 the Alexis

Quire was an ideal place to locate Gregory’s letter. The letter offers a pre-emptive defense of

424 Ibid. 425 Wendy Collier, “The Tremulous Worcester Hand and Gregory’s Pastoral Care,” in Rewriting Old English in the Twelfth Century, ed. Mary Swan and Elaine M. Treharne (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 206-07. 426 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 301. 93

illustration before either the historiated initials in the psalter or the forty-page miniature cycle were executed.

Manuscript Illustration and Iconographic Traditions

An advocate for artwork, Gregory did not specify which types of pictures could aid a potential reader or viewer especially with regard to manuscript illustration. The type of illustration in a given manuscript depended on the text which it would accompany.

A book’s supposed function and its genre or type “were factors which influenced the amount of pictorial matter that was included in a given volume, the nature of the text and the character of the imagery were the crucial variables in determining how the one was attached to the other.”427

Of course, the period in which a manuscript was produced, financial considerations, and the wishes of a patron would also have contributed to the type and quantity of illustration.

Manuscript imagery could take various forms, forms which affected meaning and interpretation: miniatures, frontispieces, miniature cycles, integrated imagery, interspersed imagery, and narrative imagery. Miniatures could stand apart from the text in an illustrative cycle or as a preface to the text. They also could be integrated with the text in the case of miniatures that are not full-page. Integrated imagery involves illustration, such as historiated initials, that are positioned in close alignment with the text, especially a pertinent section of text.428 Interspersed imagery is less unified with the text than integrated imagery is, but it is incorporated with the text.429 Narrative imagery illustrates the text and its main purpose is “to visualize what is

427 Gameson, The Role of Art in the Late Anglo-Saxon, 19-20. For example, it would be difficult but not impossible to include narrative imagery in a book that does not contain a narrative (Ibid.) 428 Ibid., 33-40. 429 Ibid., 30. 94

narrated by the text to which they are joined.”430 Aside from narrative imagery, illustrations can be literal or complementary: literal imagery would attempt to represent the words on the page in pictorial form while complementary imagery would comment upon the text or add to it.431

Rather than being created from their imaginations, artists often employed illustration that already existed. In these cases, artists relied heavily on exemplars when they painted manuscripts. Of particular importance for English books was the Carolingian Utrecht Psalter, a book that promoted a literal illustration of the psalms and the imagery of which was re-used in

Anglo-Saxon manuscripts more than any other book.432 The existence of this tradition did not mean that artists lacked creativity or originality. Jonathan J. G. Alexander writes “What is often seen as a lack of creativity becomes explicable in terms of the need for familiarity of imagery on the part of varying audiences in the Middle Ages. The visual messages were hammered home by their iconographical similarity until they were taken for granted and thus became an unquestioned part of everyday experience.”433 These visual signs transmitted meaning.434

Because iconography was an important component in medieval art, it should be regarded that the appearance of traditional motifs and themes as significant, as cooperating in a larger, societal statement about the subject depicted. According to Erwin Panofsky, secondary or conventional subject matter “is apprehended by realizing that a male figure with a knife represents St.

Bartholomew, that a female figure with a peach in her hand is a personification of Veracity . . .

Motifs thus recognized as carriers of a secondary or conventional meaning may be called images, and combinations of images are what the ancient theorists of art called ‘invenzioni;’ we are wont

430 Ibid. 43. 431 Ibid. 45. 432 Ibid., 17, 48. 433 Jonathan J.G. Alexander, “Iconography and Ideology: Uncovering Social Meanings in Western Medieval Christian Art,” Studies in Iconography 15 (1993), 1. 434 Ibid., 2. 95

to call them stories and allegories.”435 It is crucial, in fact, to recognize and interpret the traditional imagery correctly. Without this recognition, viewers will not understand the subject depicted and will miss the meaning. Thus, some art served a distinct purpose and was not intended for individual interpretation.

Although an iconographic tradition existed, artists did not always follow it; the variations that deviate from the artistic tradition can, in some cases, illuminate choices made by the designer or artists of a manuscript. Gameson states, “Anglo-Saxons, like other artists, can be seen altering the images they inherited, and this is exactly what we should expect. Some of the alterations were made deliberately for a clearly perceived effect; others were essentially incidental, and it is important to be sensitive to the distinction if we are to interpret the material correctly . . . [the artist’s] task was more like that of producing a paraphrase—transmitting the essence of a source in a new language.”436 Artwork and its purpose will be misterinterpreted if traditional iconography and deviations from it are not known.

Illustrated books could be used by anyone, male or female, lay or religious. They were frequently employed for female devotion in the High and Later Middle Ages: “There is good reason to believe that the discussion of pictures as a basis for the pastoral care of women was, at least on the continent, a fairly widespread practice by 1140.”437 For example, the Speculum virginum, a treatise containing twelve illustrations, tries “to capture on the written page a process or orally delivered instruction that uses visible images as its point of departure.”438

435 Erwin Panofsky, Studies in Iconology: Humanistic Themes in the Art of the Renaissance (New York: Icon, 1972), 6. 436 Gameson, The Role of Art in the Late Anglo-Saxon Church, 11. 437 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 316. 438 Ibid. 96

Images of the Virgin Mary and Female Saints

Illustrated books for women often contained depictions of the Virgin Mary. Visual representations of the Virgin appeared frequently in medieval art, but her cult took several centuries to develop and gain acceptance by Christians. Drawings of Mary, along with Christ and other biblical figures began in the early third century in catacombs and tombs.439 One of the first images of the Virgin Mary originated in the catacombs of Priscilla.440 This fresco, from the third century, shows a woman nursing a child.441

Marian artwork increased in the fourth and fifth centuries because Christianity began to be more widely accepted. In 313, Constantine issued the Edicts of Tolerance, which allowed

Christians to worship freely and build churches.442 As a consequence, Christian art was no longer relegated to underground spaces but entered the public sphere.443 Moreover, in 431, the council of Ephesus officially named Mary the Mother of God, a move that resulted in an “explosion” of

439 Melissa R. Katz, “Regarding Mary: Women’s Lives Reflected in the Virgin’s Image,” in Divine Mirrors: The Virgin Mary in the Visual Arts, ed. Melissa R. Katz (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 27; André Grabar, Christian Iconography: A Study of Its Origins (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1968), 7. Grabar writes, “We date the oldest Christian paintings of the catacombs to about 200, and the oldest representational sculptures on Christian sarcophagi to the first third of the third century, even though we know that this chronology is rather insecure, since it does not rest on dated written documents” (Ibid.). 440 Mary Clayton, The Cult of the Virgin Mary in Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 143; Gertrude Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, vol.1, trans. Janet Seligman (Greenwich: New York Graphic Society, 1971), 13. 441 Clayton, The Cult of the Virgin Mary, 142-43. Schiller describes this fresco in greater detail: “The earliest known image of the Mother of God, a little fresco of the early third century in the Catacombs of Priscilla in Rome, is neither a painting of the Nativity nor an autonomous portrait of the Madonna but represents the prophet Balaam and his Messianic prophecy of the Star of Jacob. This passage had been interpreted from ancient time as prophesying the birth of the Messiah. The child on Mary’s lap—she is portrayed in the type of the heroine of Antiquity— turns to face the prophet.” Iconography of Christian Art, 13. 442 Katz, “Regarding Mary,” 28. 443 Katz, “Regarding Mary,” 28. 97

Marian iconography. 444 For example, the Annunciation as a pictorial theme dates to the fourth

century. 445

There is little mention of Mary in the Gospels,446 so Marian iconography derives largely

from non-canonical sources such as the Protoevangelium of James, a second-century text, and

the Apocrypha.447 Composed shortly after the Gospel of John, 448 the Protoevangelium describes

Mary’s birth, childhood, and her virginity. 449 Theologians prior to the twelfth and thirteenth

centuries did not approve of this text, but the dearth of Marian source material assured its

continued use.450

Representations of the Virgin changed frequently during the early Christian period and

throughout the Middle Ages.451 The Annunciation will be used to examine Marian iconography and its variations over time.452 There are several catacomb paintings from the fourth century which depict the Annunciation; one of these is a fresco in the Catacombs of Priscilla, and it

444 Ibid; Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 28. 445 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 26. 446 Katz reminds us that two of the Gospels, Mark and John, begin with an adult Jesus. “Regarding Mary,” 20-21. The two which describe Christ’s birth, Matthew and Luke, do not offer much information about the Virgin Mary (Ibid.). 447 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 33-34. 448 Katz, “Regarding Mary,” 22. 449 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 33. Schiller recounts the traditional story of the Annunciation from Apocryphal legend: “Having decided to put a new curtain in the Temple, the Jewish priests summoned thither eight maidens of the house of David and divided the wool between them. Mary was given purple and scarlet wool to spin which she took to the home of Joseph, under whose guardianship she had been placed in her twelfth year. One day as she was fetching water from the well she heard the voice of an angel hailing her as one blessed among women. Without having seen the angel, she hurried home and went on spinning. There the angel appeared to her for a second time. The Annunciation is then described as in Luke” (Ibid., 34). 450 Ibid., 33. 451 Belting, Likeness and Presence, 30. 452 It is important to note that this discussion will be cursory and broad. For a more detailed analysis of Annunciation representations, please refer to Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 33-56. 98

alludes to the Incarnation. 453 This scene represents Mary in a tunic and pallium.454 Her hand is raised as if in speech, and she listens to a man standing in front of her.455

The Virgin was frequently represented spinning, a reference to the Protoevangelium of

James.456 This text describes Mary spinning purple and scarlet thread in order to make a curtain for the Temple.457 A common early Christian Annunciation presents Mary seated and spinning; she wears a veil, a reference to her virginity. 458 Extending his hand, Gabriel either stands near her or walks toward her.459 The Annunciation at Santa Maria Maggiore (432-40) illustrates this early iconography: “She wears a princely garment, a girdle set with pearls and a diadem in her hair. She holds in her hands the purple wool described in the Apocrypha and with her arms presses the spindle to her body; the basket for the wool stands near her. She listens with close attention to the message of the flying angel.”460

The spindle iconography continues to appear in Carolingian artwork. A tenth century ivory relief, for example, portrays Mary sitting in an architectural setting.461 She is represented as royalty and is accompanied by a maid.462 Gabriel approaches her from the left. The spindle and basket of wool continue to be represented but at this time in history, they most likely were either

453 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 34. 454 Ibid. 455 Ibid. 456 Ibid., 9. 457 Ibid. 458 Clayton, The Cult of the Virgin Mary, 144. 459 Ibid. 460 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 34-5. 461 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 37. 462 Ibid., 38.

99

eastern motifs or representations of women’s work.463 The spindle was eventually replaced by a

book and then after the twelfth century, by a scroll.464

The iconography of the desk and book originated in Carolingian and Ottonian times with

a Metz ivory of the 9th-10th century in Brunswick. 465 Mary was considered to be a wise and

learned person by theologians in the Middle Ages: she knew the seven Liberal Arts, the Psalms,

and was accorded the wisdom of Athene.466 As a learned person, the book makes iconographical

sense. The book appears open, closed, and on a desk in medieval art and architecture.467

The Annunciation in the Benedictional of Æthelwold “shows Mary gesturing toward an

open book with her right hand, and carrying in her left hand an object that has been identified as

a shuttle.”468 The tenth century Boulogne Gospels displays the Virgin at a reading desk; no

spinning or weaving accoutrements are apparent.469 In the twelfth century, the Annunciation

miniature in the St. Albans Psalter (image 31, p. 19)470 shows the Virgin with an open book in

her lap, an iconographic change: “There are Carolingian and Anglo-Saxon representations of the

Virgin Annunciate with an open book on a lectern, and eleventh century ones of her with a

closed book on her lap. Christina’s Psalter is the first representation to combine the open book

463 Ibid. 464 Ibid., 42. 465 Ibid. 466 Ibid. 467 Ibid. “On the wooden door of the mid-eleventh century of St. Maria im Kapitol in it [the book] lies closed on the desk; in the miniature from the Vyšehrad Coronation Gospels in Prague (1085-6) Mary holds it in her hand closed; and on the right tympanum of the west front of Chartes (1050-5) there is no desk and the book stands open on the floor between Gabriel and Mary. It is the only attribute which occurs in French cathedral sculptures of the Annunciation” (Ibid.) 468 Coatsworth, “Cloth-making and the Virgin Mary,” 20. 469 Ibid., 22. 470 This image can be found in the online facsimile on page 19: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page019.shtml. 100

with the lap, i.e. it shows the Virgin in a domestic setting.”471 This miniature is crucial in a book intended for a female reader because it may have functioned to model correct behavior.

No matter her iconography, images of the Virgin Mary ultimately served to glorify

Christ: “what serves to define Mary, in her relationship to God and to men, is the exceptional character of the ties that bind her to Christ. The typology of functional portraits of the Virgin derives entirely from this relationship to Christ.”472 Representations of Mary pointed toward her son. Schiller writes, “The figural symbol of the Mother of God does not, therefore, express only the Incarnation of the Logos but its exaltation too.”473 This changed in the twelfth century when images of the Virgin began to glorify her in her own right.474

My Thoughts on Iconography

Neither words nor images should supersede each other in a medieval manuscript. With this in mind, I will return to a discussion of Gregory the Great’s letter in the St. Albans Psalter. Instead of proposing that Gregory’s letter justifies the images or demonstrates that Christina of Markyate was illiterate, the letter shows that the words and images in the St. Albans Psalter have equal importance and equal weight. Morgan Powell writes, “Gregory’s letter enforces the viewpoint that neither text nor image should come before the other.”475 Michael Camille asserts that the illustration in manuscripts “cannot be separated from what is a total experience of communication involving sight, sound, action and physical expression.”476

471 Ibid., 191. 472 Grabar, Christian Iconography, 77. 473 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 28. 474 Emile Mâle, Religious Art in France: The Twelfth Century A Study of the Origins of Medieval Iconography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 437. 475 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 313. 476 Camille, “Seeing and Reading,” 43. 101

Even though women might not have been fully literate in Latin, they might not have used illustrations to enhance their Latin learning. Women who were fully literate in Latin, such as

Abbess Eulalia of Shaftesbury Abbey and Hildegard of Bingen in the twelfth century, possessed illustrated books. Madeline H. Caviness believes that Hildegard composed and supervised the illustration of the Scivias at the same time: the pictures “therefore complement rather than illustrate it [the text]. These images constitute one of the most original picture cycles of the

Middle Ages in that very few elements are borrowed or adapted from other representations.”477

In fact, Hildegard’s illustrations probably came first: whenever Hildegard received a vision, she drew what she saw on a wax tablet while describing the experience for her scribe, Volmar.478 For example, Hildegard creates innovative ways to portray women. According to Caviness,

“Hildegard’s “icons tend to privilege the feminine in ways that are not mandated by the words; their power derives from representations of the Godhead through intervisuality, though the text dares to state only that there are similarities in form rather than in essence. The pictorial interpretations of the text go beyond it in privileging the feminine.”479 However, these illustrations are not independent from the text. Hildegard empowers women visually. In her picture of the Fall, Eve is depicted “as a cloud full of stars that she says are the future generations of people” and therefore likens Eve to Abraham. 480 This example shows that images could convey information, perhaps subversive content, that was not expressed by the text. Although

477 Caviness, Visualizing Women in the Middle Ages, 135. Caviness speculates that Hildegard may have created preliminary sketches for her illuminations in the Scivias. Ibid., “Gender Symbolism and Text Image Relationships: Hildegard of Bingen’s Scivias, in Translation Theory and Practice in the Middle Ages, ed. Jeanette Beer (Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute, 1997), 73. 478 Caviness, “Gender Symbolism,” 87; Ibid., Visualizing Women in the Middle Ages, 115. 479 Caviness, Visualizing Women in the Middle Ages, 168. 480 Ibid., 135. 102

Hildegard could read Latin, she still valued visual art. For Hildegard, the images were not subordinate to the text but equal to it.

Illustration functioned as an aid to meditation. Contemplating images was a useful exercise in itself. M.T. Clanchy writes, “In their religious devotions they [ladies of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries] had also ‘to read the book of imagery’, that is, to understand through the labour of meditation the forms and signs of divine revelation. In the Lambeth Apocalypse one page illustrates the story of the monk who kept the face of the Virgin so successfully in his mind’s eye that the Virgin appeared to come alive and the holy Child gestured toward him.”481

The images in a book were just one item that would be examined for deeper meaning. 482

Contemplation, the highest form of reading, occurred through studying the images and texts in conjunction: “The ultimate stage of reading was contemplation, when the reader ‘saw with his heart’, like St. John the author of the Apocalypse, the truth of hidden things. In this stage, text and image combined with the reader’s own perceptions and feelings to produce enlightenment.”483

This chapter shows us that images were important to texts; they were not subordinate to words and did not merely serve to illustrate the text. Knowing this, words should not be privileged over illustrations in Christina’s Psalter. In the next chapter, I will construct an argument that the calendar, miniature cycle, and Alexis Quire were produced for Christina’s use.

481 Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record, 194. 482 Ibid. 483 Ibid., 195. 103

CHAPTER FOUR

The introduction to this dissertation briefly connected Christina of Markyate to the St.

Albans Psalter. This chapter will first analyze her literacy and will then connect her to the

calendar, the miniature cycle, and the Alexis Quire in order to theorize that these sections of the

St. Albans Psalter were created for her use.

Christina’s Literacy

Christina’s literacy has been the subject of several scholarly articles, and has been

discussed by authors such as Jane Geddes, Douglas Gray, and Jocelyn Wogan-Browne. Before

entering this argument, scholars must recognize that the literacy of Christina cannot ever be

definitively established. Geddes contends, “She is likely to have known the Psalms by heart, but

that does not indicate how well she could read, write or understand Latin.”484 According to

Geddes, the possession of a psalter does not equate to a knowledge of the languages contained

within it. Like Geddes, Thomas Tipton argues that the Psalter can be used to prove either that

Christina was literate or illiterate: “the Psalter [St. Albans] and Christina’s Life give only

ambiguous evidence of her ability to read. One could claim that Christina spoke English and

Anglo-Norman and read Latin and Old French. On the other hand, the inclusion of full page

miniatures in the Psalter and the letter of Gregory justifying pictures in general suggest that

Christina was illiterate.”485 Tipton’s viewpoint is contradictory and does not advance any type of

484 Jane Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 203. 485 Thomas Tipton, “The Toads on the Text: The Spirituality of Psalter Reading in the Life of Christina of Markyate,” Proceedings of the Medieval Association of the Midwest 3 (1995): 56. 104

argument on Christina’s literacy. If anything, the Psalter suggests strongly proves that Christina was, in fact, literate.

Scholars often adopt theories about Christina’s lack of literacy. Moreover, they do so using internal evidence from the psalter itself, in particular the letter of Gregory the Great, which has been discussed at length in chapter three. The presence of this letter situated among numerous miniatures and illustrated initials offers proof to these scholars that Christina could not read Latin or French; she would read the images instead. The illiteracy hypothesis is furthered by evidence that measures were taken to protect the images. Someone, possibly Christina, sewed

“curtains” over the images. On occasion, the curtains were stitched onto the text, obscuring what had been written. Geddes believes this indicates that the text was not as important as the pictures.486 There is evidence to support Geddes’ viewpoint; stitch holes for protective curtains appear on each page of the miniature cycle, and this fact thus signifies the value of images in the book. The value of the text cannot be minimized based on this evidence alone, especially when considering how Gregory’s letter was interpreted and reassessed in the Middle Ages. After all, if the text served no purpose for Christina, one might suppose would not have been included.

Another faction asserts that Christina could read French but not Latin. Douglas Gray thinks the Alexis Quire offers evidence that she could probably read Anglo-French. He reminds us that twelfth-century England was a trilingual country where both French and English would have been spoken. 487 Claiming that Christina served as a link between the Anglo-Saxons and the

Normans, Gray cites evidence from the vita that she communicates with Archbishop Thurstan

486 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 204. 487 Douglas Gray, “Christina of Markyate: The Literary Background,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge: 2005), 18. 105

and thus would have known Anglo-French. 488 Based on the inclusion of French and Latin, the

Psalter may have been an educational tool, a way for Christina to improve her knowledge of these languages.489 The presence of Gregory’s letter in both languages could suggest that

Christina knew French, and through this knowledge, would learn or improve her knowledge of

Latin.490 Although vernacular hagiographies were popular in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,491 Latin learning still persisted for women during this time.

Well-born women and nuns in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries formed a “cultural elite” and participants in this elite read, wrote, and owned books.492 This group consisted of

“women with ties to royalty or nobility and nuns residing in wealthy convents. The literature these women possessed included Latin biblical commentaries, Anglo-Norman romances, and a few early Middle English devotional texts.”493 Education in Latin appeared to persist for a few women in this period despite the decreased instructional opportunities and limited access to educational institutions.494 Anne Bartlett claims that nuns in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries

488 Ibid. 489 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 203; Diane Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing: Works by and for Women in England, 1100-1500 (Cambridge: Polity, 2007), 22. 490 Tipton, “The Toads on the Text,” 56. 491 Jocelyn Wogan-Browne, Saints’ Lives and Women’s Literary Culture c. 1150-1300: Virginity and it Authorizations (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 3. 492 Anne Clark Bartlett, Male Authors, Female Readers: Representations and Subjectivity in Middle English Devotional Literature (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995), 6. 493 Ibid. 494 In the twelfth century, with the rise in universities, opportunities for women declined. David Bell describes how these educational institutions actually resulted in less female education: “Before the rise of the universities, girls and boys in noble households may have shared the attentions of a tutor or domestic chaplain, and the limits of such private education might have been determined only by the capacities of the students or the consent of their parents. But once the universities had been established as a necessary route to high office (and we must remember that a boy would enter the Faculty of Arts at the age of fourteen or fifteen), it became far more difficult for women to gain any sort of higher education at all. The universities were, of course, barred to them, and few fathers would have been prepared to retain a private tutor to teach their 106

could read Latin.495 Helen Jewell cites how nuns at Barking in the twelfth century translated

Latin hagiographies into French. 496

Internal evidence in the Psalter argues for Christina’s ability to read both in French and

Latin: “The Psalter itself could have been used by anyone with elementary literacy, including

Christina, but the long Latin gloss on Psalm 1 presupposes a reader who is fully litteratus, while the legend of Alexis in French, also included in this compilation, and the French translation of the passage from Gregory suggest a reader with vernacular literacy.”497 The Life defends this theory of her literacy. 498 Christina’s debate with Fredebertus over her marriage suggests that she trusted in her own interpretation of Scriptures: “Christina moved beyond the letters (litteras) of the Scriptural quotations directly to their sense (sensus). But Christina’s response by quoting

Matthew suggests that not only does she know her Scripture but more important she trusts her interpretation of Scripture above a priest.”499

The images themselves can testify to Christina’s Latin learning. According to Green, “In the St. Albans Psalter drawings of fingers direct the reader’s attention to key-words or catch- phrases which the reader then understands by looking at the accompanying picture.”500 There would be no point in directing Christina’s attention if she could not read the words which were

daughters what—in the father’s view—were useless accomplishments.” What Nuns Read: Books and Libraries in Medieval English Nunneries (Kalamazoo: Cistercian, 1995), 59. 495 Bartlett, Male Authors, Female Readers, 7. 496 Helen M. Jewell reveals that the nuns at Barking did not represent the norm. Women in Medieval England (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996), 159. 497 D.H. Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007), 154. 498 When speaking of Latin literacy, we must recognize that there were different levels of it. David Bell describes these levels: 1) Reading Latin without understanding it, 2) Reading and understanding a common liturgical text, 3) Reading and understanding non-liturgical texts or less common texts, and 4) The ability to compose and write a text. What Nuns Read, 60. We have no evidence that Christina composed texts herself, but she may have attained a level two or three literacy in Latin. 499 Tipton, “The Toads on the Text,” 58. 500 Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages, 154. 107

indicated. The hands tell Christina on which aspect of the page to focus.501 Page 364, an illustration of psalm 144 (image 32), depicts a painfully positioned David pointing to the caption and a group of people. The caption, however, is in Latin, and it reads: “Confiteant[ur] ti[bi] d[omi]ne om[n]ia op[er]a tua.” If the illustrations point to the text, this seems to confirm that

Christina could understand what the rubrics said.

More than illustrating her knowledge of Latin or lack thereof, the pointing hands signify a relationship between the psalm and its illustration. They were not meant to be studied in isolation but should be contemplated together. This either / or attitude does not need to be adopted towards Christina’s literacy. Rather than arguing for her degree of literacy, I would prefer to focus on how Christina may have read the word and image together. Undoubtedly, even if she were illiterate, she would still need to “read” the images. The conjunction of word and image is especially important in the psalms which often do not literally depict the words of the psalm. 502 Dodwell demonstrates that the initials for the psalms offer allegorical illustration in addition to literal interpretations of the psalm text. Often, the reader must probe beneath the surface to locate this added significance. Dodwell explains that only by thinking about the psalms on different allegorical levels will the relationship between the psalm text and illustration be made evident: “many of the pictures have been planned by a highly trained theological mind”

501 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter, 203. The hands point more readily to the rubrication captions after Psalm 105: “After p. 285, the pointing is much more insistent, and the fingers virtually ignore the black text, instead indicating the jolly red captions. The short catch-phrases have suddenly become more important for the reader” (Ibid., 202). The fingers points to three separate items on the page: the psalm text, the red rubric, and the red writing in the little books (Ibid., 202). 502 Jane Geddes argues that the initials for the psalms do offer a literal representation of David’s text. “The St. Albans Psalter,” 198. Her brief claim is disproved by the large amount of scholarship that Dodwell has done on the allegory of the psalms in the Psalter. 108

and the artist seemed to rely on Augustine’s Enarrationes in Psalmos.503 For example, the initial

to verse 20 of psalm 88 depicts five major prophets, a representation of St. Augustine’s

commentary, not an illustration of the psalm itself (f. 37, p. 250).504 Christina was a sophisticated

reader capable of making connections between words and images and able to understand the

different levels of allegory presented by the psalms. If she could only grasp the literal meaning,

then it would make little sense for the artist to imbue the initials with theological significance.

The Calendar

The calendar in the St. Albans Psalter has an overt connection to Christina, but its

production at St. Albans has been disputed. Francis Wormald notes that it does not correlate with

other St. Albans calendars, in particular London, British Library Egerton 3721 and Royal 2 A.

x. 505 Likewise, Morgan Powell does not associate this calendar with St. Albans: “The

peculiarities of the calendar have always spoken against an institutional connection with St.

Albans, as the feast of the abbey’s patron saint is added only later, and is even then

misspelled!”506 It cannot be accurately determined whether or not this calendar was made at St.

Albans owing to the dearth of extant calendars from this scriptorium.507 Rodney M. Thomson has

identified six calendars that he attributes to St. Albans, but he does not compare them in great

503 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 182-83. 504 Ibid.,183. 505 Ibid., 23-4. 506 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005): 304. 507 Kathryn Gerry, “The Alexis Quire and the cult of saints at St. Albans,” Historical Research 82, no. 218 (November 2009): 598. Kathryn Gerry maintains that we cannot accurately determine what the typical St. Albans calendar contained; she writes, “[O]nly two full and one partial calendars survive in other St. Albans manuscripts from this period, and none of these accords precisely with any of the others—from such a small and variable sample, it is difficult to draw any conclusions about a typical St. Albans calendar in the 12th century” (Ibid.) 109

detail.508 Despite Wormald’s and Powell’s claims, there actually are affinities between

Christina’s calendar and others produced at St. Albans. Codicological evidence, presented in chapter two, links the calendar with other manuscripts created at St. Albans. Moreover, additions of saints to the calendar appear in other St. Albans manuscripts: “of the fourteen [saints] added to the calendar, thirteen are included in other St. Albans calendars.”509 Another manuscript, St.

Petersburg, Public Library Q. v. I, 62 contains the feasts of Christina and Alexis.510

Based primarily on codicological evidence such as the hands, the illustrations, and the obits, I believe the calendar was made at St. Albans and was adapted for Christina’s use. The supposed deviations from other extant calendars result from a careful tailoring to Christina’s use as a woman religious and her origins in the Huntington region.

The Calendar provides the most solid evidence for a connection between Christina and the Psalter.511 Not only does Christina’s date of death appear in the calendar, but the births and deaths of those close to her are also listed. For example, on January 11, the calendar records the date of her father’s death: “Obit Auti the father of lady Christina.” Similarly, an entry for

Christina’s mother, Beatrix, appears on June 7. More than just listing the deaths of her family

508 Thomson indicates that three extant calendars are nearly identical: U.S.S.R., Leningrad, Public Library Q. v. I, 62; Bodleian Library Auct D. 2. 6; and British Library Royal 2 A X. Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, 2 vols (Woodridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 37. The Leningrad manuscript contains the feasts of Christina and Alexis while the British Library Royal manuscript includes the Dedication of the Church of St. Albans, a feast which interestingly is absent from other St. Albans calendars (Ibid., 27). Thomson has also noted similarities between the calendars in London, British Library Egerton 3721 and London, British Library Royal 2 A. x. Thomson does not elaborate on these similarities other than to draw attention to the fact that they both contain similar hands: Egerton 3721 has a hand like that of Scribe B while British Library Royal actually contains Scribe B’s hand (Ibid., 92-4). 509 Gerry, “The Alexis Quire,” 598. 510 Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey, 27. 511 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 197. 110

members, the Psalter explicitly states Christina’s relationship with them. This evidence most likely points to ownership of the calendar at some point by Christina.

In addition, the calendar lists the feast days for saints, obits for monks of St. Albans, and important liturgical events. The saints included those with a connection to St. Albans, but the calendar also favors female saints in general. The preference for female saints shows that the calendar was created with a female recipient in mind.512 Besides the female saints, Anglo-Saxon ones are present. These include St. on March 20, St. Guthlac on April 11, St. Dunstan on May 19, St. Botulf on June 17, St. Alban on June 22, St. Aetheldritha on June 23, St. Oswald on August 5, St. Oswin on August 20, St. Hilda on November 17, and St. Edmund on November

20.513 Obits for those connected with St. Albans or its dependent houses were also included such as the obit for Gaufridus, the abbot of St. Albans on February 25; the obit for Avicia, Sopewell’s prioress on March 20; Roger the hermit on September 12; and Geoffrey, the abbot of St. Albans on February 25.

Christina’s calendar includes saints and feasts that are not present in other St. Albans calendars: Felix (8 March), Invention of St. Ives (24 April), and the “Tumulatio” of St. Benedict

512 See chapter 2 for a list of these female saints. 513 Although the calendar does list many Anglo-Saxon saints, the majority of those in the psalter are Roman. Diane Watt focuses on the appearance of Hild (also known as Hilda), the first English abbess, in the calendar. Watt believes Hild’s life echoed Christina’s and that the Anglo- Saxon saint could have served as a role model for Christina. Medieval Women’s Writing, 27. We should pay particular attention to Hild’s appearance in the calendar, both because she was a female saint and also because she rarely was listed in calendars (Ibid.). There probably were ulterior motives for Hild’s appearance in the calendar. Watt asserts that Hild provided a role model for Christina that differed from Geoffrey’s continental preferences: “Geoffrey subsequently guided Christina down an alternative religious path that was more familiar to him, as an incomer from France, than that which Christina originally followed. In so doing, he may have recognized the usefulness of suggesting Hild as a different model of Anglo-Saxon female piety for Christina to emulate, at the same time identifying resemblances between Hild’s relationship with Aidan and his own with Christina. In other words, the story of Hild may have figured in Geoffrey’s attempts to direct or even control Christina” (Ibid., 31). 111

(4 December).514 Moreover, this calendar omits saints and feasts which were important at St.

Albans: Furseus (16 January), Festivas reliquiarum (27 January), John of Beverley (7 May),

Kenelm (17 July), Oswin (20 August), Paulinus (10 October), and the Dedicatio S. Albani (29

December).515 Wormald concludes that the three entries appearing in this calendar and not in other St. Albans calendars show an affinity with calendars produced for the Ramsey and

Huntingdon regions and thus “may well have been composed for Christina’s own use.”516

According to Kristine Haney, the calendar in the St. Albans Psalter seems to privilege

Continental saints over Insular ones; it does not list many Anglo-Saxon saints who often appeared in pre-Conquest calendars.517 This absence might not be significant. Normans did not necessarily abandon or neglect the cults of Anglo-Saxon saints. In fact, they sometimes promoted these cults, a fact that is supported by the Cult of St. Edmund which flourished after the Conquest.518

514 Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 24. These entries were not additions to the calendar. 515 Ibid. 516 Ibid., 24-5. 517 Kristine E. Haney, “The St. Albans Psalter and the New Spiritual Ideals of the Twelfth Century,” Viator 28 (1997): 166. 518 Susan J. Ridyard, The Royal Saints of Anglo-Saxon England: A Study of West Saxon and East Anglian Cults (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 69. The Norman abbot of Bury translated Edmund’s body and Hermann added onto the hagiographic tradition (Ibid., 69-71). There was a political maneouver behind the Norman promotion of Edmund’s cult (Ibid., 229). “At Bury, as at Ely, there was no clear alignment of conquering monks and laymen against Anglo-Saxon saint; at Bury, as at Ely, an abbot of foreign extraction quite plainly regarded the cult of the local saint as one of several tools which might be utilised in order to defend the rights and to further the interests of the church committed to his care. Baldwin’s grasp of the situation is shown by his commissioning of Hermann’s De miraculis sancti Edmundi” (Ibid., 229). Indeed, Edmund was promoted as a patron of all of England rather than just in East Anglia (Ibid., 230-31). The overall aim was to increase Bury’s prestige (Ibid., 231). 112

The illustrations in the calendar can provide another potential link to Christina. The zodiac symbol for August shows a Virgin (Page 10, see image 27).519 Virgo wears a long garment in grey and blue, and has a grey veil. She has wings, a green nimbus, and holds an unidentified object which might be a spindle, flower, or palm frond.520 She is framed in purple.

Virgo is significant not only because she represents a Virgin but also because of her size. Virgo takes up 16 ruled lines, whereas the other zodiac symbols range on average from 5-10 lines.521

Virgo is therefore the largest zodiac symbol depicted in the calendar section. The size of Virgo might attest to the Psalter’s female ownership as well as the visual prominence of women throughout the manuscript as a whole.

Virgo traditionally was the only female figure depicted in the calendar cycle.522 The labors of the month were often represented as agricultural scenes, and these were occupations usually held by men. In addition, the zodiac figures were largely represented by animals. Virgo is depicted as a maiden, and she sometimes bears a likeness to Justice or Demeter; because August was the month of the grain harvest, she often holds a palm frond, ears of wheat, or a sheaf. 523

519 This image can be found in the online facsimile on Page 10: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanpsalter/english/commentary/page010.shtml. 520 Geddes believes that the object is a palm frond. “Page 10 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page010.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 521 The figure for Sagittarius spans 16 lines, but this is mostly because of his arrow which he holds in a bow. 522 It was not an anomaly for women to be depicted in the labours of the month or other zodiac figures besides Virgo. These representations become more frequent in the later Middle Ages. For more information please see Bridget Ann Henisch, The Medieval Calendar Year (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1999), 168-189. 523 Henisch, The Medieval Calendar Year, 189; Colum Hourihane, ed, Time in the Medieval World: Occupations of the Month and Signs of the Zodiac in the Index of Christian Art (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007), lxii. Hourihane states that the palm is “reminiscent of the martyr’s palm (Ibid.). In some instances she carries one or two fleur-de-lys, and in one example, she holds a mirror (Ibid.). 113

Geddes strongly believes that Virgo is connected to the Virgin Mary. She bases this judgment on the entry for the Assumption and the iconography of the Assumption:

In the Mont-Saint-Michel Sacramentary (c. 1050-1065, New York, Pierpont

Morgan Library, M.641, f 142v) the Virgin is shown ascending to heaven in a

mandorla, with a halo and holding the palm leaf. Touching her are the wings of

the supporting angels. Later examples show the association between Zodiac Virgo

and the Assumption. The calendar for the Hours of Henry VIII (c.1500, New

York, Pierpont Morgan Library, H.8 f. 4v) shows Virgo with a palm frond almost

adjacent to the haloed Virgin at the Assumption. The St Albans Virgo thus

compresses concepts of the Zodiac, the Virgin Mary (her halo), the Assumption

(palm leaf) and the supporting angels (wings). This promotion, from Zodiac to

Mary, explains why she is larger than the other Zodiac signs.524

The colors that Virgo wears align her with the Virgin Mary. The zodiac figure wears blue and gray and has a purple frame. Before the twelfth century, blue was largely a marginal color.525

Michel Pastoureau writes, “Then suddenly, in just a few decades, everything changes—blue is

‘discovered’ and attains a prominent place in painting, heraldry, and clothing. Our examination of this dramatic shift begins with a look at depictions of the Virgin Mary, which provide the clearest illustration of the social, religious, and artistic consequences of blue’s new status.”526

Mary began to wear blue in the twelfth century where it was used more frequently on her cloak but also on her robe or for all her garments.527 Before the twelfth century, Mary wore largely

524 Geddes, “Page 10 Commentary.” 525 Michel Pastoureau, Blue: The History of Color (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), 50. 526 Ibid. 527 Ibid. 114

dark colors “meant to convey suffering and grief . . . that express her mourning for her crucified son.”528 She was often depicted in black, gray, brown, violet, blue, or dark green. 529

Virgo might also represent Christina. This figure turns away from the words in the calendar, even an entry of the Assumption. If this figure were a symbol of the Virgin Mary, it would seem more likely that she would point toward this entry in order to help the reader identify her as the Virgin Mary. Instead, Virgo turns toward the opposing page and points to the obit for Roger.530 Virgo indicates a possible connection to Roger or perhaps to Markyate through him. More specifically, this zodiac figure could represent Christina herself. For example, Virgo adopts a similar posture to the female figure in the Christina initial on page 285, a figure that scholars often attribute to Christina.531 Both figures face toward their left, and their faces are depicted in profile. They similarly offer a superior position to a male while themselves adopting an inferior one: Virgo’s head on page 10 is lower on the page than Roger’s obit on page 11 is.

Geddes states, “When the book is partly closed, Roger’s obit lies directly over the head of Virgo on the opposite page and she points to the inscription.”532 This pointing might demonstrate a connection between the zodiac figure and Roger. As Christina, Virgo might visually prove

Roger’s role in her life as a spiritual mentor. More generally, the figure could represent a holy woman, as noted by the halo, who follows the correct spiritual path, by permitting a male ecclesiastic to guide her. Likewise, Christina, or the female figure more generally, in the initial to

Psalm 105 (see image 30, p. 285), gives her obedience to Christ and beseeches him to have

528 Ibid. 529 Ibid. 530 Geddes, “Page 11 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page011.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 531 Evidence regarding this claim that the religious woman is Christina will be presented in the chapter five. 532 Geddes, “Page 11 Commentary.” 115

mercy on the group of monks behind her. Christ is taller than the holy woman, and he towers over both her and the monks.

The Miniature Cycle

Unlike the calendar, the 40-page miniature cycle does not make an explicit reference to

Christina. However, the cycle grants a large visual importance to women. Because of the large proportion of women and the fact that the cycle was added to the Alexis Quire and calendar, it is possible to speculate that this section also may have been created with Christina in mind.

There is a precedent for miniature cycles in psalters. Developed by the Anglo-Saxons, these cycles alluded to Christ and offered a “Christological interpretation of the Psalms and an aid to spiritual mediation.”533 Therefore, the pictorial cycles aided individual prayer.534 Early examples of miniature cycles can be found in the Benedictional of Æthelwold and the Tiberius

Psalter: “Both sets of prefatory pictures are coherent cycles of images. They ‘speak’ to the viewer as a group in sequence, and as they have a general connection with the whole of the volume which they precede rather than relating to a specific part of it, their arrangement as prefatory matter, introducing the text but isolated from it, is sensible.”535 Following the Norman

Conquest, the picture cycles introduced by Tiberius were omitted, but the tradition began again

533 C.M. Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England 700-1500 (London: Harvey Miller, 2003), 112-17. This tradition of miniature cycles does not appear in other countries until the end of the twelfth century (Ibid., 116). 534 Ibid., 118. 535 Richard Gameson, The Role of Art in the Late Anglo-Saxon Church (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 29. Kauffman states that the Tiberius Psalter is the earliest example which has a miniature cycle. Biblical Imagery, 112. There are twenty-four drawings in Tiberius: “five from the life of David, followed by eleven of the life of Christ from the Temptation to the Passion, Ascension and Pentecost. Immediately after the Christological cycle is a picture of St Michael fighting the dragon, repeating in essence the compositions of David versus the lion and Christ defeating the devil in the Harrowing of Hell” (Ibid., 112-13). 116

in the twelfth century. 536 The miniature cycle in the St. Albans Psalter predominately portrays

scenes from the Life of Christ. In doing so, it imparts a prominent visual place to women. The

Virgin Mary, in particular, occupies a central position in the visual space of two miniatures:

Ascension (Image 35, p. 54) and Pentecost (Image 36, p. 55).537

In the Ascension miniature, Mary and the Apostles line the bottom of the page. Taller

than the Apostles, Mary stands in the center of the group, and she alone is nimbed. All the

figures gaze upward as Christ disappears into the clouds. Only Christ’s feet are visible in the

upper register, and he is flanked by two angels. Jane Geddes attributes Mary’s presence to

Byzantine and Anglo-Saxon illustrations 538 and her centrality to her role in the Incarnation.539

536 Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery, 114-15. Full-page miniatures can be observed in the following twelfth-century manuscripts: the Shaftesbury Psalter, the Winchester Psalter, the Eadwine Psalter, the Douce Psalter, the Copenhagen Psalter, the Glasgow Psalter, and the Gough Psalter as well as the St. Albans Psalter (Ibid.). Out of all these psalters the Eadwine Psalter has the fullest narrative cycle (Ibid., 115). 537 The Ascension miniature can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page054.shtml. The Pentecost miniature can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page055.shtml. 538 Geddes, “Page 54 Commentary” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page054.shtmlonline commentary, (accessed July 14, 2012). Dodwell explains that the Anglo-Saxons invented new iconography for the Ascension scene: “While in more traditional versions Christ rises to the heavens in a mandorla (as in the ninth-century wall painting of San Clemente in Rome, and in the Athelstan Psalter), or is raised up by the issuing from the clouds, this group invests the scene with dramatic intensity by showing the ascending Christ disappearing from view except for his lower legs and feet, while below, the apostles and the Virgin crane their necks and stare in utter amazement.” The Pictorial Arts of the West 800-1200 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), 117. The Bury Psalter, the Sacramentary of Robert of Jumieges, and the Tiberius Psalter initiated this new iconography (Ibid.). 539 Geddes, “Page 54 Commentary;” Ibid. “Page 55 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page055.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 117

Mary’s inclusion and centrality could derive from iconography dating to the fifth century. 540

Discussing a Syrian mosaic of the Ascension, Mâle writes, “The place of honor given to the

Virgin is significant: it proves that the mosaic was not earlier than 431 and the Council of

Ephesus, which marks the real starting point of the cult of the Virgin in the East as in the West.

We sense that theology had already begun its work. Neither the Acts of the Apostles, nor the canonical Gospels, nor the apocryphal Gospels say that the Virgin was present at the Ascension.

Consequently, her image here has the value of a symbol: she personifies the Church that Christ, by ascending to heaven, left on earth.”541 Eleventh- and twelfth-century manuscripts often adopted this Syrian tradition; however, in many of these manuscripts, Mary performs the role of an orant and with her hands raised, she speaks to the apostles.542 In the St. Albans Psalter, Mary does not appear to execute this duty.

Similar to the Ascension miniature, the Pentecost illustration displays Mary in the middle of the page. Indeed, her position is one of importance not only due to the Incarnation but also because her body is twice as large as those of the Apostles.543 Jane Geddes writes, “Mary at the centre of Pentecost is depicted in the 6th-century Rabula gospels (Florence, Bibliotheca Medicea

Laurenziana, MS. Plut. 1, 56), where all the figures are standing in an open area. The St. Albans setting, in a curved enclosure in shown in the Carolingian Bible of San Paolo fuori le Mura where all the figures, including Mary, are seated.”544 In the miniature, Mary and the Apostles are seated in a circular structure with their palms raised. Mary faces the front while the Apostles are displayed in profile. Tongues of flame emanate from the mouth of a dove on the top of the page.

540 Emile Mâle, Religious Art in France: The Twelfth Century A Study of the Origins of Medieval Iconography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 92-3. 541 Ibid. 542 Ibid., 96. 543 Geddes, “Page 55 Commentary.” 544 Ibid. 118

Emile Mâle indicates that twelfth-century French scenes of Pentecost often show the tongues of flame radiating from Christ.545 This is evident at Vezelay in the tympanum of the central portal. 546 Mâle reveals that the dove belongs to a later tradition. 547 The Pentecost scene is the last miniature before the one of David which concludes this cycle. The entire cycle then is essentially encapsulated between two women, Eve and Mary.

There is a possible connection in the Ascension (Page 54) and Pentecost miniatures with

Christina herself. According to Geddes, the Pentecost scene may have evoked Christina’s own life; as evident in the vita, “Christina witnessed the Holy Spirit descending as a dove.”548

Similarly, the Ascension miniature could allude to Christina’s witnessing of Christ’s disappearance.549 The designers of the miniatures, thus, may have wanted to highlight the important role that women can play in ministry and in the apostolic tradition perhaps by serving as intercessors.

An association between Christina and Mary Magdalene may also exist. Using evidence from the vita, Magdalena Carrasco proves that Christina, like Mary Magdalene, acts as a witness for Christ in her Life:

[S]he plays the role of the Magdalen at the feet of Christ in a subsequent vision

reminiscent of the supper at Emmaus and Christ in the house of Mary and Martha.

When the pilgrim appears to her again, Christina recognizes him as Christ. Like

the Magdalen, Christina plays a redemptive role linked to her power of speech, a

power derived from her special status as witness and bride of Christ. The

545 Mâle, Religious Art in France, 327. 546 Ibid. 547 Ibid. 548 Geddes, “Page 55 Commentary.” 549 Ibid., “Page 54 Commentary.” 119

redemptive role is a distinctive aspect of Christina’s unique relationship with

Abbot Geoffrey of St. Albans.550

The scenes with Mary Magdalen in the St. Albans Psalter, namely Christ in the House of Simon

the Pharisee (Image 37, p. 36) and Mary Magdalen Announces the Resurrection (Image 38, p.

51), portray events from Christina’s own life in the guise of the Magdalen. 551 In addition to

“witnessing,” Christina’s reputation, like the Magdalen’s, was sometimes in disrepute. Geddes

writes, “Like Mary Magdalen in this scene, Christina was humiliated and slandered, accused of

being a ‘loose woman’ but she nonetheless retained her tactile intimacy with Christ.”552 If the correlation of Mary Magdalen with Christina is accepted, this portrayal could serve to sanctify

Christina while it identifies the miniature cycle as possibly created for her.

Furthermore, the cycle presents Mary Magdalen as a role model for Christina. In Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee, a repentant Mary is encountered, a woman so weighed down by her sins that she is literally painted on the bottom of the page.553 Gertrude Schiller describes the traditional iconography for this scene: “Mary Magdalene washed Christ’s feet with tears, dried them with her hair and anointed them. She is often depicted as wearing gaudy clothing to show that she is a prostitute. [ . . . ] In the western image the woman has thrown herself to the

550 Magdalena Carrasco, “The Imagery of the Magdalen in Christina of Markyate’s Psalter (St. Albans Psalter),” Gesta 28 (1999): 71. 551 Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page036.shtml. Mary Magdalen Announcing the Resurrection can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page051.shtml. 552 Geddes, “Page 36 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page036.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 553 Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page051.shtml. 120

ground and is usually shown weeping as she dries Christ’s feet with her hair, while the ointme nt box lies beside her.”554

Only after Mary performs her subservient duty is she permitted to minister to the

Apostles, as seen in Mary Magdalen Announcing the Resurrection (Page 51). In this illustration,

Mary Magdalene faces the Apostles. Wearing a red cloak, she approaches them from the left side of the page. She is nimbed, and she raises a hand in speech. The Apostles are huddled together on the right, and only some of them are nimbed. This miniature demonstrates the power and authority of women when they act as intercessors in the Church, and shows that women also can have access to the divine. Haney asserts that it grants Mary access to the apostolic tradition and demonstrates that women could be included in this tradition. 555 This scene is similar to the

Christina initial in which the St. Albans monks crowd behind the figure who might be Christina.

More than evoking the Christina initial, these Magdalen images might represent

Christina’s life, and they also might attempt to direct her behavior. Kristine E. Haney, on the other hand, believes that Mary Magdalen was included in the cycle because she began to be revered at St. Albans after the Conquest.556 This assertion does have potential, but it seems strange that nontraditional images, such as the ones in the cycle, would be employed simply to reference the Magdalene. After all, there are more commonly featured depictions of Mary

Magdalen, namely in the Crucifixion and the Noli me tangere scenes, neither of which appears in the miniature cycle.557 As anomalies in pictorial cycles, these Magdalen miniatures demonstrate

554 Gertrude Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, vol.1, trans. Janet Seligman (Greenwich: New York Graphic Society, 1971), 158. 555 Haney, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 163-64. 556 Ibid. Haney writes, “A number of new Norman foundations were dedicated to her; and she received greater attention in the Anglo-Norman liturgy” (Ibid.). 557 Ibid., 165. 121

a clear choice in displaying women as repentant and then as intercessory. As a result, they might

have been selected because they helped the agenda and because they might reference Christina.

In other miniatures, however, women have actually replaced men. 558 For example, in the

Presentation in the Temple on page 28 (image 39), Joseph has been exchanged for two female servants.559 This miniature focuses on the encounter of Christ and Simeon. Mary stands on the left and Simeon on the right; Christ sits on an altar between these two figures and faces Simeon, blessing him. Two female attendants, one behind Mary and one behind Simeon, hold doves.

Doves are often featured in this scene as a sacrificial offering—as the first born, Christ was obliged to serve in the Temple, and the offering exempted him from this duty. 560 The servants assume Joseph’s traditional role in this scene. Although Joseph has a minor role in typical

Presentation scenes, he normally is represented visually owing to his textual presence in Luke.

Geddes notes that the Benedictional of Æthelwold has a similar composition, but it still contains

Joseph, who is “peeking at the back” and carrying the doves.561

The St. Albans Psalter follows the traditional iconography for this scene, except for the absence of Joseph. The Presentation scene often shows Mary approaching from the left and

Simeon from the right.562 Christ sometimes blesses Simeon, as is evident in the Antiphonary from Prüm (993-1011).563 Representations from the eighth and ninth century show Christ being

558 Women also replaced men in the some of the psalm initials which will be discussed in chapter five. 559 The Presentation in the Temple can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page028.shtml 560 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 90. 561 Geddes, “Page 28 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page028.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 562 Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 92. 563 Ibid., 91. 122

presented on an altar.564 The altar usually alludes to the sacrifice of Christ through his

Crucifixion. 565 The designer of the St. Albans Psalter shows a preference for female figures, and these are clearly in service. One reason for the attendants at the expense of Joseph could be to heighten the Virgin’s importance in this scene. The Presentation in the Temple was sometimes celebrated in conjunction with the Purification of the Virgin, and the attendants could allude to this event.

The Alexis Quire

Based upon my dating of the Alexis Quire, this quire was one of the first section of the

St. Albans Psalter to be produced.566 Written in Anglo-Norman, the Life of St Alexis describes a saint who leaves his new bride shortly after his marriage in order to follow Christ. This text is illustrated with a tinted line drawing that presents a visual narrative (image 40, p. 57). In this miniature, compartmentalized into three scenes, Alexis bids farewell to his bride and leaves on a voyage. Giving her a ring and a sword belt, Alexis stands on the left and the bride on the right while a dove hovers over Alexis’s head. In the next scene to the right, the bride stands alone as

Alexis departs from an open door. Finally, the last scene shows Alexis upon a ship. This is the only miniature which illustrates the Chanson text in the manuscript, but that is not the only

564 Ibid., 92. Schiller describes the Presentation at Santa Maria Maggiore: The scene shows the Child’s triumphal entry into the Temple and the revelation of his divinity. Mary, the Theotokos, still wearing the imperial garment and the diadem, carries Christ; she is followed by two angels, Joseph and a third angel having preceded her. The divine Child is dressed in the tunic and pallium, his head surrounded by a blue nimbus. Anna and Simeon come from opposite directions to meet the Child. The ancient prophetess raises her hand as she speaks, testifying before the Jewish priests and temple-servants that the Child will redeem Israel. Simeon, full of reverence and with covered hands, bows as he approaches and looks at the Child, who returns his gaze” (Ibid., 90-91). 565 Ibid., 92. 566 This has been discussed in chapter 2. 123

reason it is significant. The iconography in this miniature is atypical for Alexis: “Most

illustrations of Alexis’ life concentrate on the later part of his story, particularly his family’s lack

of recognition and his incarceration under the stairs. So, for this book, a deliberate choice has

been made to place the grieving, bereft bride centre stage, flanked by tender scenes of her

departing love.”567 The illustration, then, might bear a message for its recipient, who might be

Christina.

In scholarship, the Alexis Quire has been specifically associated with Christina. Alexis

himself has often been correlated with this holy woman. D.H. Green asserts that, like Christina,

Alexis “abandoned marriage for virginal asceticism.”568 Jeffrey Hamburger writes that the Life

of Alexis serves as a mirror for Christina: “The images of the Psalter would have provided a

mirror in which the onlooking subject would have found her own experience reflected, even as it

held up a model for her own behavior.”569 It may seem strange that the monks provided an

example of a male saint, instead of a female one such as St. Cecilia. Thomas Head believes the

story of Alexis was known better to the monks.570 Head reveals that the Normans turned to

Alexis as an example of chaste marriage, but the Anglo-Saxons looked to St. Cecilia.571 Thus,

the choice for Alexis represents a cultural difference between the Anglo-Saxons and Normans.

Jane Geddes offers an alternative to Head’s suggestion. She believes the inclusion of the

Alexis Quire was Geoffrey’s idea. Symbolizing his friendship with Christina, the Quire then

567 Geddes, “The Alexis Quire: Illustrations and Discourse on Good and Evil” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/alexisquire.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 568 Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages, 154. 569 Jeffrey F. Hamburger, The Visual and the Visionary: Art and Female Spirituality in Late Medieval Germany (New York: Zone, 1998), 231. 570 Thomas Head, “The Marriages of Christina of Markyate,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 122. 571 Ibid. 124

might illustrate decisions Geoffrey made about what would be appropriate for his friend. 572

Drawing on evidence from Christina’s vita, Geddes states the Alexis Quire might symbolize

Christina’s sadness over Geoffrey’s intended departure for Rome.573 Rather than Alexis representing Christina, Geddes believes this saint represents Geoffrey. 574 Christina, then, would represent Alexis’s grieving bride.575 As a result, Geddes speculates that this quire is meant to comfort Christina and make her realize that her suffering will increase her love for God.576 C.R.

Dodwell and Diane Watt echo this sentiment. 577 Watt writes, “If Geoffrey originally intended the Psalter to be a gift honouring Christina’s decision to become a nun, of devotional use to her and to her community, he subsequently adapted it for another purpose. The Alexis quire was included to offer Christina consolation and encouragement in her hour of need and to justify the patronage and support Geoffrey continued to offer in the face of opposition even from his own monastery. The Life was intended to serve a similar purpose.”578

Similar to Geddes, Morgan Powell views the Alexis Quire as an evocation of Christina’s and Geoffrey’s friendship and especially their “spiritual conversations.”579 This fact accounts for the accretions in the quire, especially on the Beatus Page (image 23, p. 72). If Powell’s analysis of this quire is accepted, Geoffrey can be observed in his role as spiritual advisor to Christina. As has been mentioned in chapter two, Geoffrey himself may have worked as the scribe for this quire: “Geoffrey, the former schoolmaster and no scribal craftsman, seems to have had no

572 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 208. 573 Ibid., 209. 574 Ibid. 575 Ibid. 576 Ibid. 577 Dodwell, The Pictorial Arts of the West, 328. 578 Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing, 26. 579 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 306. 125

qualms about writing ad hoc, on unruled parchment. But he clearly did so with varying success,

or perhaps with varying levels of concern for craftsmanship.”580

There is not complete scholarly consensus that the Alexis Quire was created for

Christina. Kathryn Gerry asserts that it was intended for the monks at St. Albans.581 Evidence

does exist that St. Albans Abbey was interested in Alexis; a chapel was dedicated to this saint

between 1115 and 1119.582 Gerry believes the Alexis Quire, in booklet form, might have been

housed in the chapel. 583 When the cult was dissolved, however, the quire was appended to

another manuscript.584 Gerry’s viewpoint is compelling, but evidence in the quire, namely the

miniatures and their association to Christina’s visions as has already been discussed, suggests a

connection to Christina rather than a group of monks.

The Life of St. Alexis is followed by the Letter of Gregory the Great and the Christ at

Emmaus miniatures.585 These color wash miniatures present Christ as a pilgrim accompanied by

two disciples. In the first miniature on page 69, Christ on the Road to Emmaus, Christ walks with

two companions (image 41).586 Christ carries a staff and is dressed like a pilgrim with a cap and

a shaggy cloak.587 The disciple on the left grasps Christ’s staff and points to Christ. The other

disciple, on the right, points to the sun. The top left corner of the page contains an abbreviation

580 Ibid., 305. 581 Gerry, “The Alexis Quire,” 593. 582 Ibid., 606. 583 Ibid., 611. 584 Ibid., 612. 585 The Letter of Gregory the Great has been discussed in chapter three and at the beginning of this chapter. The Literacy section of this chapter connected the Letter to Christina. 586 Christ on the Road to Emmaus can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page069.shtml 587 Geddes, “Page 69 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page069.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 126

of Luke 24: 13-31.588 The next miniature, The Supper at Emmaus, on page 70, presents the three companions at supper (image 44).589 Christ faces forward, and his disciples are depicted in profile at the table. Christ hands his disciples a host which has been broken in half. Geddes states that this gesture makes the disciples recognize the pilgrim as Christ and they “raise a hand in astonishment.”590 In the final Emmaus miniature, Christ Disappearing from the Supper at

Emmaus, on page 71 (image 43), Christ ascends into Heaven. His feet are depicted at the top of the page to signify this disappearance. The disciples below are again astounded as they remain seated at the table. The final miniature is smaller in size than the preceding two illustrations.

It is a common viewpoint that the Emmaus pictures represent several events at the end of the Christina’s vita in which she meets a pilgrim.591 This pilgrim visits Christina and the nuns at

Markyate on three occasions, and after his third visit, they realize their visitor was actually

Christ. Christopher Holdsworth contends that the miniatures evoke these visits: “[T]hese illustrations had peculiar meaning for her, reminding her of the ‘beloved pilgrim.’ The fact that the artist provided not just the normal two illustrations of the Emmaus story, one of the meeting on the road, and one of the meal, but added a third in which Christ disappears skywards to the astonishment of the two at meat with him, would have reminded her of the strange way her

588 Ibid. 589 The Supper at Emmaus can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page070.shtml. 590 Geddes, “Page 70 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page070.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 591 Powell, “The Visual, the Visionary and her Viewer: Media and Presence in the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (St. Albans Psalter),” Word & Image, 22, no. 4 (October-December 2006): 346. 127

pilgrim vanished.”592 Dodwell concurs with this viewpoint, stating that these scenes illustrate

“Christina’s personal communion with Christ.”593

Rather than recording her experiences, the Emmaus miniatures might have effected her experiences, and thus the three encounters might have stemmed from the pictures.

Powell asserts that the connection between the Emmaus pictures and the Markyate experiences

“is supported only by the lack of precedent for the addition of the third scene that shows Christ vanishing.”594 Therefore, Powell theorizes that Scripture caused Christina’s visions to occur:

“Scripture was presented for her visual contemplation, that is: these pictures are the site of the very devotional activity that is seen in the Vita to move Christ to descend into the lives of his handmaidens. What we have here is the first clearly recorded case in which visual art informs a woman’s visionary experiences.”595 No matter if Christina’s visions as recorded in the Life or the miniatures came first, there is a scholarly consensus of a connection between the Emmaus pictures and Christina’s vita.

The last items in the Alexis Quire include the Discourse on Good and Evil and the Beatus

Vir initial (image 23).596 The Discourse begins on page 71 and fills the right margin next to the final Emmaus illustration. This text continues on page 72, wrapping around the initial B. The

Discourse on Good and Evil “seems to be original to Geoffrey.”597 Seemingly extemporized, this text might support the idea that the Quire on the whole recounts conversations between Christina and Geoffrey. Referring to the knights painted in the upper margin on page 72, the Discourse

592 Christopher J. Holdsworth, “Christina of Markyate,” in Medieval Women, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1978), 192. 593 Dodwell, The Pictorial Arts of the West 800-1200, 329. 594 Powell, “The Visual, the Visionary and her Viewer,” 346. 595 Ibid. 596 The Beatus Vir initial can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml. 597 Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing, 24. 128

describes a spiritual battle, and it encourages the reader to act like a spiritual warrior, remain steadfast in devotion to God, and fight the ungodly. The ungodly are described in physical, bodily terms while the holy are conceived in spiritual, virtuous ones.

The Discourse seems esoteric and somewhat disorganized with frequent shifts in tone.

Geddes writes, “Sentences switch, in a sometimes arbitrary way, between the impersonal ‘he’ and ‘they,’ to ‘we’ and eventually ‘I.’ . . . It is significant that the B and the horsemen were inserted before the surrounding script, so that the scribe is looking at them while he writes. A possible implication is that the writer is also the author, observing the picture in the present tense. The tone quickly changes to something shared directly by the author and reader.”598 The

Discourse then seems to be a distillation of a conversation as well as an introduction to the psalms. If Christina is seen as the reader of the text, the Discourse could have provided her with directions for appropriate behavior and cautions her about what she must face spiritually. The text encourages her to “be tamed” in opposition to the ungodly who exemplify pride and malice.

In addition, she should engage in confession and practice devotion. The text emphasizes a correct form of spirituality, one which seeks to quell Christina’s independence and force her into a certain code of conduct. It also offers her a justification for meditating upon the psalms and shows that this contemplation will aid her in her own spiritual battle: David’s “book, which he held in great affection, signifies the wisdom of prophecy, and that divine prediction, and for that reason spiritual people love the psalter and desire its own divine teaching, because it sows sweetness in their hearts.”599 Watt and Geddes think the Discourse was intended to support

598 Geddes, “The Alexis Quire: Illustrations and Discourse on Good and Evil.” 599 Geddes, “Page 72 Translation and Transcription,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/translation/trans072.shtml (accessed July 14, 2012). 129

Christina during times of tribulation in her life.600 The text does encourage Christina as the reader to believe that her actions will ultimately end in her salvation.

The Beatus initial, on the same page as the Discourse, is historiated. David sits within this initial, and he holds a book in his left hand and a harp in his right. The following words have been inscribed on his book: “Annu[n]tiatione[m] s[an]c[t]i sp[iritu]s e[ruc]tavit beatu[s] d[avi]d psalmista quem d[eu]s elegit.” In the upper portion of the initial, a large dove sits on David’s crown and leans over to “whisper” in his ear. Like the Discourse, the Beatus initial offers analysis on the friendship of the abbot and holy woman. According to Watt, the initial enables

Geoffrey to justify their relationship: “David’s harp and book, standing for ecclesiastical teaching as well as divine prophecy, point to the foundations of the bond between Geoffrey and

Christina, and provide it with a God-given sanction.” 601 This initial tells us that the psalms require a combination of theological learning with wisdom. The portrayal of David, with his book and harp, signifies a collaborative effort on the part of Geoffrey and Christina if this quire is seen as their conversation. In this theory, while Geoffrey offers theology, Christina offers wisdom. Watt writes, “The wisdom of prophecy, while directly alluding to David inspired by the

Holy Sprit refers back to the female personification of Wisdom and beyond the text to

Christina’s roles as prophet and visionary, which also figure largely in her Life.”602 Taking this situation a step further, it is possible to speculate that this initial, directly preceding the psalms, signifies that the psalms will be mediated by Geoffrey, an intention which I will later argue that

Christina overrides.

600 Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing, 24. 601 Ibid., 26. 602 Ibid. 130

CHAPTER FIVE

In chapter four, I theorized that a relationship may exist between Christina and the

calendar, miniature cycle, and the Alexis Quire. This chapter will continue the discussion which

began in chapter four but will focus upon the psalms, psalm initials, and the Litany and how they

might connect to Christina.

Masculine Word Endings

The psalms and prayers in the St. Albans Psalter have masculine word endings, which has

led many scholars such as C.H. Talbot, C.R. Dodwell, and Kristine Haney to conclude that the

original audience was male.603 Based on this evidence, they state that the psalms and prayers

were later adapted for Christina. After all, if Christina were the original, intended audience, the

word endings would have been feminine.604

Jane Geddes argues that the endings are plural and thus gender does not matter: “In fact,

where a suppliant is suggested, it is plural (usually famuli/ servants as in collects 1, 2, 3, 10 and

11, or servi as in collect 4). This, coupled with the specific references to domo tua (collect 7) and

ecclesiae tua (collect 8), indicates that the prayers would be appropriate for those living within a

community. Specific reference to famulae (handmaidens) in collects 3 and 10 suggests that these

603 Haney thinks the St. Albans Psalter might have a “Canterbury prototype.” The St. Albans Psalter: An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith (New York: Peter Lang, 2002), 339. If this is true, it would explain why the endings are masculine. 604 Prayers in the Shaftesbury Psalter do address a female reader. This has been discussed briefly in chapter 1 of this study. For more information, see Mary Jane Morrow, “Sharing Texts: Anselmian Prayers, a Nunnery’s Psalter, and the Role of Friendship,” Voices in Dialogue: Reading Women in the Middle Ages, ed. Linda Olson and Kathryn Kerby-Fulton (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), 98. 131

prayers are appropriate to both male and female communities.”605 The prayers seem to be most appropriate for a varied group of religious. Diane Watt likewise posits a communal audience for the psalter but believes that it has a “feminine bias” and “was, in part, a woman-oriented text.”606

The gender of the psalms and prayers suggests that Christina might not have been the sole recipient or reader of the manuscript; this book might have been used by the community at

Markyate.

Psalm Initials

Similar to the text, the initials to the psalms and prayers have often been interpreted as masculine in nature and therefore intended for a male audience. Haney and Talbot, in particular, support this viewpoint. Discussing the collect initials, Haney writes, “These [the collect initials] show tonsured males praying to God. It is difficult to believe that a prayer book designed expressly for Christina would show men rather than a woman in these initials.”607 Dodwell espouses a similar conclusion on the initials in conjunction with the Benedictine Rule, stating that the initials function to interpret the Psalms and the Rule in unison. 608 The presence of men

605 Jane Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (New York: Routledge, 2005), 201. 606 Diane Watt, Medieval Women’s Writing: Works by and for Women in England, 1100-1500 (Cambridge: Polity, 2007), 22. 607 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 338-39. 608 C.R. Dodwell, The Pictorial Arts of the West 800-1200 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993), 332. Dodwell writes, “The life of a monk was dominated by two basic texts: the Psalter, sung in its entirety by all monks in the course of each week and so basic to their lives that they came to know it by heart....; and the Benedictine Rule, of which a chapter was read every morning. The function of the illustrations in the initials of the St Albans Psalter was to interpret one text in terms of the other. The monk was enjoined by the Rule to cut himself off from the secular world in life-long spiritual fellowship and in chastity; to dedicate himself to glorifying God in liturgical service (the Opus Dei); to cultivate obedience and the other Christian virtues; and so to discipline both body and mind that he became imbued with the very spirit of humility. 132

cannot prove that the audience was masculine, especially when considering that traditional

iconography for the psalms depicted largely men. Geddes, however, demonstrates that some of

the initials have deliberately included female figures even when the text does not call for this

representation.

Women are portrayed in twenty psalm initials in the St. Albans Psalter. Geddes writes,

“Twenty initials in the Psalter depict women. In some cases they are a necessary part of the

Psalm content and cannot be avoided. However, where female figures are deliberately chosen

when none is mentioned in the text then clearly an intellectual and artistic decision has been

made. In Psalms 8, 50, 122, 148, the Canticle of Anna, the Magnificat and the Apostles Creed,

for example, women are an essential part of the text and are therefore illustrated.”609 Women

have been deliberately included in six psalm initials: Psalm 36 (Page 140), Psalm 51 (Page 173),

Psalm 67.20 (Page 200), Psalm 105 (Page 285), Psalm 118.33 (Page 315), and Psalm 149 (Page

370).610 According to Geddes, in the initials for Psalms 36, 51, 67.20, and 118.33, women are depicted either in a negative light or as temptations.

To verify the originality of these initials, both the psalm text and visual sources must be analyzed. Haney has identified potential visual precedents for the St. Albans initials: “Several factors condition a search for the sources that inspired the designer of the St. Albans initials. One

The task of the artists of the Psalter’s initials was to illustrate phrases from the Psalms that upheld these precepts, and of these they found dozens” (Ibid.). 609 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 200. 610 Psalm 36 can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page140.shtml. Psalm 51 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml. Psalm 67:22 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml. Psalm 105 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page285.shtml. Psalm 118:33 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml. Psalm 149 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page370.shtml. 133

is that it or they, taken collectively, would need to be copiously illustrated in order to make them really useful for this purpose. Relatively few illuminated manuscripts from the twelfth century or earlier fall into this category. They would include in the west the Utrecht Psalter and the related groups of manuscripts made in England after it was brought from the continent to

Canterbury.”611 These include the Stuttgart Psalter, Amiens 18, and the Byzantine marginal psalters.612 Most visual affinities occur with the Utrecht Psalter itself. Indeed, seventy percent or

132 initials in St. Albans depict a verse that is also represented in Utrecht.

Despite this high proportion of similarities, the St. Albans initials were not blindly copied from Utrecht. Visual elements from Utrecht, such as figures, groups, and poses were employed and reconfigured.613 Other elements, including walled cities, large buildings, large groups of figures, and antique references, were often omitted owing to spatial factors and the creative decisions of the designer.614 The designer probably had a visual program in mind: he made the choice to omit details from Utrecht, despite the possibility of executing a “close copy.”615 Due to this visual deviance in the initials, I propose that the designer had an agenda for Christina. First, we should examine how Psalms 36, 51, 67:20, and 118:33 deviate from potential exemplars.

The illustration for Psalm 36 emphasizes finding delight in the Lord. 616 The initial portrays Christ sitting on the crossbar of the initial “N” while speaking intimately to the psalmist.

To the left, a woman holds a book inscribed with the word “delectare.” The initial separates her from Christ and the Psalmist. Neither the psalm text nor the visual iconography allude to a woman. Both Haney and Geddes believe there are multiple interpretations of this initial: Haney

611 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 108. 612 Ibid. 613 Ibid., 119. 614 Ibid., 124. 615 Ibid. 616 Ibid., 486. 134

asserts that the woman may not personify delight617 while Geddes interprets the woman either as a meek person delighting in peace or a sign of temptation. 618 Although Geddes has speculated that this female figure is wicked, I would argue that instead she represents a holy woman who delights in the Word of God. She holds a book that reads “delectare,” which might signify that she finds delight inside a book.

This initial in the St. Albans Psalter represents verse four of Psalm 36. There are neither textual nor visual precedents for this verse. The Stuttgart Psalter presents four scenes for this psalm and illustrates verses 1, 14, 24-25, and 31-33.619 It shows figures that worship false idols and others that attempt murder. The Utrecht Psalter and Harley 603 focus on judgment, punishing the wicked and providing for the good.620 Utrecht portrays verses 6, 14, 15, 19, 24, 26,

35, and 36.621 Two iconographic details are similar: Utrecht and 603 show an open book with text and a bearded psalmist below Christ.622

Another sinful woman appears in the initial for Psalm 51. The large initial “Q” depicts

Christ on the left and a group of figures on the right. Seated on a throne, Christ holds a staff in his right hand and a book in his left that reads “Quid gloriaris in malitia.” There are seven figures, two of which embrace and turn away from Christ. One of these figures, either the man or

617 Ibid. 618 Geddes, “Page 140 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page140.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 619 Ernest Dewald, The Stuttgart Psalter (Princeton: Princeton University, 1930), 37. 620 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 487. 621 Dewald, The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1932), 19. 622 Haney, An Anglo-Norman, Song of Faith, 486. 135

woman, holds a purse, and the man offers a wedding ring. 623 A dragon creeps into the initial and bites one of the woman’s feet. Behind the couple, five figures turn toward Christ. The theme is sin, particularly “carnal lust” and possibly punishment of it.624 Geddes views the group of figures as the seven deadly sins: the woman represents malice and the man lust.625 The couple in the foreground does appear sinful. However, the five other figures, paying attention to Christ’s message, seem holy.

The purse, suspended between the couple in the foreground, has received some attention.

It not entirely clear which figure is in possession of the purse. Geddes believes the woman holds the purse, signifying the love of money as the root of evil.626 Haney, on the other hand, thinks the man carries the purse.627 Because the male figure presents a ring, it seems more likely that the woman carries the purse. These items then might symbolize a marriage, a marriage of sins. This couple has a visual affinity with the couples depicted for initial 118.33. In both illustrations, men tempt women. Unlike the initial for Psalm 51, the later one shows women contemplating the consequences of sin and purity. The woman in Psalm 51, on the other hand, has clearly taken the route of sin.

Verses 3 and 8 are illustrated in the initial for Psalm 51. There are no exact visual precedents for this initial. The Utrecht Psalter presents a unified composition and illustrates verses 2, 4, 8, 9, 10, and 11, and the composition for this scene is more unified than the one for

Psalm 36. The iconography for Utrecht derives primarily from the title of the psalm: “when Doeg

623 Geddes, “Page 173 Commentary” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 624 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 506. 625 Geddes, “Page 173 Commentary.” 626 Ibid. 627 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 506. 136

the Edomite came and told , and said unto him, David is come to the house of

Ahimelech.”628 Harley 603 has a similar composition to Utrecht, but it adds an elaborate battle scene.629 The Stuttgart Psalter portrays verses 2-4 and 10 by showing men plotting evil and the psalmist in the House of the Lord.630 The Bury Psalter (Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana,

Reg. lat. 12) illustrates sin: two demons hold a naked figure.631 Byzantine illumination tends to focus on Peter and Simon the Magician. 632

The initial for Psalm 67:20 shows two couples represented in an initial “B.” Christ holds a sword and looks down from heaven. The couple on the left embrace at they stare at Christ in fear, as he smites the couple on the right with a sword, knocking the man in the head. Similar to the Psalm 51 initial, this one focuses on the sin of lust: “The two women wear red dresses, the colour of lust. The tree represents the Garden of Eden, a reminder of the first sin. 633 The text mentions God’s enemies but does not explicitly refer to lust; therefore, this sin is only evident visually. Haney believes this illustration accords with the previous initial for Psalm 67 by defining the enemy of God as first two demons and then as two human couples.634 Christ smites both the demons and the humans.

St. Albans actually depicts verse 22 rather than 20.635 The Utrecht Psalter represents the same verse and the visual details are similar. In Utrecht, however, an angel rather than Christ,

628 Dewald, The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 25. 629 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 506. 630 Dewald, The Stuttgart Psalter, 51. 631 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 506. 632 Ibid., 507. 633 Geddes, “Page 200 Commentary.” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 634 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 526 635 Ibid., 526. 137

wields a spear and strikes a figure.636 The position of Christ in St. Albans has been changed:

“Christ’s upper body and sword are comparable with the sword-wielding angel in Utrecht, psalm

61, fol, 8v.”637 The appearance of women are another commonality between these manuscripts.

The women in Utrecht are not engaged in lustful activities. One group of women, to the right of the Psalmist, are widows and the fatherless.638 The widows have their hands raised, palms up, with their fingers spread out. Beneath the widows are three female musicians and two women dancing. The Stuttgart Psalter does not illustrate verse 20 or 22. Instead it represents verses 12 and 18. In verse 12, Christ is in a mandorla and is surrounded by four evangelist paintings while in 18 a nimbed figure drives a chariot.639

The initial for Psalm 118:33 also shows two couples. The theme of this initial is seeking

God’s help by using Holy Writ.640 The initial for verse 37 has been combined with the illustration for verse 28, which crowns the top left of the page. In an initial “A,” for verse 28,

Christ in heaven blesses the psalmist who points toward a baby and holds a book inscribed with the words “Dormitavit anima mea.” The initial “L” for verse 37 is located directly beneath the initial “A.” In the initial “L,” Christ blesses the Psalmist who holds a book and points to two couples beneath him. The book reads “Averte oculos meos.” The first couple on the left includes a man who holds a garment and a bird. The woman facing him clutches a flowering branch and either an apple or a small circular object. The man in the second couple holds a coin and the woman’s hand. The woman appears to be blessing him. According to commentary by Jane

Geddes, the first couple represents vanity and the sins associated with clothes and aristocratic

636 Ibid., 526; Dewald, The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 31. 637 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 526. 638 Dewald, The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 31. Besides verse 22, The Utrecht Psalter illustrates verses 1, 2, 3, 7, 10, 11, 15, 16, 17, 18, 21, 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 30, and 31. 639 Dewald, The Stuttgart Psalter, 61. 640 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 593. 138

pleasures, and the second depicts lust, as the man grasps the woman’s right hand and offers her a gold coin. 641 Conversely, Haney views the second couple as an embodiment of vanity and the first as a representation of innocence and a potential allusion to Holy Orders.642 Geddes’ analysis seems correct given the similarities to the Psalm 51 initial. Rather than expressing sin blatantly, these female figures debate whether to commit sin or remain unblemished. They are at a crux and must decide if they want to participate in vanity or lust.

The verses illustrated in the initial are 33, 36, and 37. Utrecht and Harley 603 do not represent these verses.643 Instead, Utrecht illustrates verses 1, 2, 21-23, 25, and 115, including four blessed figures, a man reading the law, an angel with an axe, kings who represent pride,

Moses and Jeremiah, and evil figures falling into a pit.644 The Stuttgart Psalter presents for an illustration of verses 33-35.645 In Stuttgart, an old man, most likely Moses, reaches out for a book which the hand of God offers.646

Women have been included deliberately in positive ways in the psalm initials. For example, Psalm 149 (Page 370, see image 28) in the St. Albans Psalter shows a group of eight women with their hands raised. Next to the women are three soldiers who face two demons.

Christ looks down from above. “The initial illustrates many aspects of this psalm literally,

641 On the website, Geddes states that these sins do not originate with the psalm itself but from commentaries by Ambrose and Augustine. “Page 315 Commentary” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 642 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 593. 643 Ibid. 644 Dewald, The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 53. 645 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 593. 646 Ibid.; Dewald, The Stuttgart Psalter, 95. Besides these verses, Stuttgart represents verses 1, 2, 9, 23, 25, 27, and 28. 139

showing praise in a church, swordsmen and (implied) vengeance.”647 The theme for this psalm is the praise given to God and the subsequent help he provides as a result to rid the Church of enemies.648

Psalm 149 makes a reference to men as holy, but it represents women in the accompanying initial. Geddes writes, “In Psalm 149, the penultimate song of praise, the words are gender-neutral: ‘Let his praise be in the church of the holy ones . . . The holy ones shall rejoice in glory’, but a group of women is shown within a church. The text implies that the holy ones are the same people as the soldiers with the swords, but the illustration makes a pointed distinction to depict women as the holy ones.”649 The illustration overrides the text, signifying the women as holy. The choice of women is deliberate and offers a “female coda” to the

Psalms.650 Reading the text and image in conjunction provides a different interpretation than analyzing these two elements of the page separately. Standing behind the soldiers, women function as intercessors. This initial shows the respective roles of women and men in the church.

While the men fight the spiritual battles, women pray and intercede on their behalves. In another sense, the men could be seen as intermediaries or interpreters. The soldiers block the way to the demons in the same sense that spiritual advisors provided instruction on the psalms.

The St. Albans initial illustrates verses 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, and the caption. 651 The Utrecht

Psalter represents the same verses on fol. 83r: “Here Christ stands to the right accompanied by several men. He faces and gestures to three women with musical instruments, who face him. . . .

647 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 637. 648 Ibid. 649 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 201. 650 Ibid. Geddes notes that some psalm illustrations deliberately portray only men: Psalm 133 only represents men for a text that reads “. . . all servants of the lord. Who stand in the house of the lord” (Ibid.). 651 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 637. 140

The strongest similarities are in the use of arched openings under an architectural canopy for the swordsmen. The praise from female worshippers and male saints is similar, although St. Albans adds demons as the supernatural opponents of the saints.”652 The Stuttgart Psalter illustrates verse 6, but it does not include any women. Instead, Stuttgart shows a man reading a book on the altar, another man writing, a man binding the feet of another, and a man gesturing to God while wielding a sword.653 Similarly, Byzantine illustrations such as the Serbian Psalter depict six soldiers who raise their swords.654

The Christina Initial

Similar to Psalm 149, Psalm 105, on page 285 (see image 30), represents a woman positively. This initial portrays a woman and several monks, who huddle behind her. Facing

Christ, the woman beseeches him on behalf of those behind her. Dodwell identifies this nun as

Christina and the monks as members of St Albans Abbey. 655 This initial has been accepted as a representation of Christina and is often referred to as “the Christina initial.” Scholars have made this connection because the initial is an addition—it has been pasted onto the membrane. The psalm title additionally strengthens this association. Haney states, “The caption is not drawn from the psalm: ‘Parce tuis queso monachis clementia Jesu.’ However, it refers to the general theme expressed in v. 4.”656 This title seems to refer to the initial in which Christina visually asks

Christ for mercy. Moreover, the handwriting echoes script that appears in the calendar.657

652 Ibid. 653 Ibid. 654 Ibid. 655 Otto Pacht, C.R. Dodwell, and F. Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter (London: Warburg Institute, 1960), 197. 656 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 572-73. 657 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 199. 141

If this female figure is seen as Christina, this initial might demonstrate Christina’s main role in the eyes of St. Albans. Speculating on why Christina may have received this manuscript,

Geddes writes, “[T]he answer seems to lie in the initial’s rubric which uniquely diverges from the words of the Psalms: ‘Spare your monks I beseech you.’ Christina is meant to utter these words aloud as she looks at the picture. Her main spiritual function is to act as intercessor for

Geoffrey and his monks; in this picture she is thus shown crossing over the boundary between heaven and earth, in order to bring the monks to Christ. Christina has the power to act as a conduit, crossing into the sacred space, but tenderly linked by touch to Geoffrey and his monks.”658

Located more than half way through the psalms, the Christina initial seems to identify when Christina became the book’s recipient.659 This argument rests on the surrounding depictions of women, an argument that does not hold up. Geddes believes the Christina initial on page 285 marks a change in the representation of women in the illustrative cycle of the psalms:

“[A]lthough relatively few women are depicted in the initials they are much more frequent after p. 285. More significantly, before p. 285, women, as demonstrated above, are shown in a bad light, personifying sin, but after p. 285 they are always good, resisting evil and praising God.”660

This is not the case. Both Psalm 118.33 and the Canticum Moysi (Page 377) represent women negatively.661

658 Ibid., 199. 659 Ibid. Geddes maintains, “It began as a book of Psalms for St Albans, with the Martyrdom and David the Musician at the front, and then something happened which diverted the book to Christina” (Ibid.) 660 Ibid., 202. 661 The image for Canticum Moysi can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page377.shtml 142

Geddes does not consider that women are represented when they are essential to the text.

Many of the Canticles require the presence of women, and therefore, it is logical that they are included. The Christina initial has little to do with the representation of women in the Canticles as a consequence. If the initials that are essential to the text are removed, we are left with ten initials, including those for Psalms 36, 51, 67.20, 92, 105, 109, 118.33, 149, Canticum Moysi, and the Litany. Of these initials, four portray women before the Christina initial and five represent women after it. If only those initials in which women appear deliberately are considered, there would be three initials before the Christina initial and three after it. Of these seven initials including the Christina initial, four portray women negatively. As a consequence, the placement of initial 105 cannot be viewed as the point at which the psalter was rededicated to

Christina. After all, this initial could have been placed anywhere in the psalter that began with the letter C. This initial then has significance due to the negative depictions of women that surround it. Rather than speaking to the production of the manuscript and its supposed redirection to Christina, I believe this initial bears a message intended for her and the overall purpose of the manuscript.

The Canticles

The initial for the Canticum Moysi (Page 377, see image 29) represents Moses surrounded by Israelites. This initial functions to praise God for his help,662 and it represents

Exodus 15:1, a passage that does not mention the Israelites.663 Wearing a gold hat and carrying a golden rod, Moses speaks to a group of male Israelites who hold gold timbrels. On Moses’ right,

662 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 642. 663 Ibid.; Geddes, “Page 377 Commentary.” 143

two women, also carrying timbrels, appear to be talking. 664 Moses has his back to the women, and his rod points over one of their heads. Similar to the Psalm 36 initial, a moral division might be seen due to the rod. Moses and the men represent the godly while the women, who are visually separated, portray the sinful. These women are clearly ignoring Moses and seem to be gossiping despite the timbrel. This portrays hypocritical people who pretend to worship God but in reality merely pay lip service.

The Utrecht Psalter does illustrate this canticle, but it does not include women; instead, it shows the victory of Moses over the Egyptians as well as a “God of war (v. 3, 8-10, 12), man moving stone (v. 16), [and a] sanctuary (v. 17).”665 Women are illustrated in Byzantine illumination of this canticle. Rather than talking or worshipping God, these women are dancing as can be seen in the Chuldov Psalter and the fragmentary Pantocrator 61 which display a woman, possibly Mary, dancing with cymbals.666 Similarities exist between Pantocrator and St.

Albans: “Moses appears, with his staff; the poses of the Israelites resemble the figures to the right of St. Albans. The musical instruments in both manuscripts have a similar shape. While isolated details are comparable, the scenes are composed differently.”667 The designer clearly makes a decision to show the St. Albans women gossiping and ignoring their spiritual leader.

Women are represented more positively in the Canticum S. Symeonis (Page 395).668 This initial illustrates the Presentation in the Temple and refers to Luke 2.29-30.669 Like the

664 Geddes, “Page 377 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page377.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 665 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 642. 666 Ibid. 667 Ibid. 668 This image can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page395.shtml 669 Ibid., 650. 144

Presentation miniature, this initial omits Joseph and replaces him with a female attendant.

Simeon stands at the Temple door, and he holds Christ who blesses him. Facing Simeon and

Christ, Mary raises her hand in blessing. The female attendant, possibly Anna, 670 walks behind

Mary—she holds three doves, and their peeping heads can be glimpsed above her arms. The

Virgin, Christ, and the attendant are nimbed. The absence of Joseph might highlight the importance of women in the life of Christ. It might serve as a link to the earlier miniature cycle and emphasizes the importance of holy women in the church.

Haney states that this scene is nontraditional but has some ties to Utrecht: The blessing

Virgin is an anomaly, but the poses of Christ and Simeon are similar as are the architectural backgrounds.671 Byzantine illumination usually shows the Holy Family approaching from the left and Simeon on the right. For example, the Chuldov Psalter on fol 163v “shows Simeon, bearded and nimbed, under an architectural canopy. His [sic] extends his veiled hands to the left toward the holy family. The Virgin, nimbed, extends a cross-nimbed Christ toward Simeon. Joseph stands behind her.”672 The St. Albans Psalter maintains the figures’ traditional positions in the visual space.

The Litany

An awkward initial “K” illustrates the Litany (Page 403, see image 25). The initial is a large square with small ascenders on the right. The square is split into two compartments. In the left register the Holy Trinity is portrayed by two male figures and a dove that perches on their

670 Geddes, “Page 395 Commentary.” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page395.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 671 Haney, An Anglo-Norman Song of Faith, 650. 672 Ibid., 650. 145

heads. The next register represents a religious community and in doing so, departs from the text:673 Two groups of women, separated by a kneeling monk, each hold up a book containing the beginning of the litany. The left book reads “pat[er] de ce[li]s d[eu]s. m[iserere nobis] fili red/e[m]ptor mundi d[eu]s m[iserere nobis].”674 The right book continues the litany: “Sp[iritu]s s[an]cte d[eu]s. m[iserere nobis] S[an]c[t]a/ t[ri]nitas un[us] d[eu]s m[iserere nobis].”675 The monk points toward the books. Geddes states, “By holding the books aloft, it is the women who are appealing to the Holy Trinity. The dancing tonsured monk is attracting attention to their prayers”676 The appeal of these women to the Trinity is made more pronounced by the lead woman who reaches into the heavenly realm.677

The Litany initial was expanded from its original design—an initial “K” illustrating the

Trinity. 678 Powell views this large alteration as an anomaly: “Nowhere else in the psalter does an initial fill the page from the gutter to the outer margin, reaching beyond the ruled space for the text on both sides. This image exceeds all other ‘bounds’ as well.”679 Scholars posit several theories about this adaption. Geddes, focusing on the alteration of the dove, connects the initial as a whole to one of Christina’s visions. Originally, the dove was represented with outstretched

673 Geddes, “Page 403 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page403.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 674 Geddes, “Page 403 Translation and Transcription” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/translation/trans403.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 675 Ibid. 676 Geddes, “Page 403 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page403.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 677 Ibid. 678 Morgan Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate (The St. Albans Psalter),” Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 36 (2005), 320. 679 Ibid., 320. 146

wings, but this bird was repainted with its wings “in repose.”680 This visual detail might refer to

Christina’s vision of the Trinity: “Christina saw herself in a certain room; it was finely built and

it smelt sweet. Two venerable and handsome figures clothed in white garments were present.

They stood side by side, differing neither in stature nor beauty. On their shoulders a dove, far

more beautiful than any other dove, seemed to rest.”681 The vision continues with Geoffrey’s

appearance outside of the room.682 He asks Christina to introduce him to her company and let

him enter the room. 683 After Christina prays without ceasing for Geoffrey, she receives a sign

from the dove and knows that Geoffrey has received the Holy Spirit.684

Although the revised dove does accord with this vision, other details in the initial deviate

from the mystical experience. Geddes views the monk as Geoffrey and the women as the

Markyate community. 685 She identifies Christina as the foremost female figure, the one who

reaches into the heavenly sphere and thus serves an intercessor.686 The vision, however, does not

account for the group of nuns and the tonsured monk. It states that only Christina had access to

the divine. Geddes further contends that the monk’s posture in this initial represents Geoffrey

and his attempts to gain Christina’s attention: “Geoffrey, flapping his arms, is failing to attract

Christina’s attention.”687 Geoffrey does not appear to be flailing here; nor does he need to—he is clearly in the same room as Christina, not outside of it.

680 Geddes, “Page 403 Commentary.” 681 C.H. Talbot, trans., The Life of Christina of Markyate (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 69. 682 Ibid. 683 Ibid. 684 Ibid. 685 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 199. 686 Ibid. 687 Ibid., 200. 147

Instead of referring solely to Christina’s vision, this initial more likely reflects the dedication of Markyate as a female community. Powell argues that the Litany illustrates both

Christina’s vision and the dedication and shows how the psalter transforms into a communal manuscript: the Litany illustration “would appear to mark the emergence of a community around

Christina’s cell, the informal establishment, under Gregory’s tutelage...of the priory Sancta

Trinitas de Bosco. As reported in the Vita, Christina’s vision would have occurred between 1134 and 1136, and the years around 1140 must have seen her community fully developed. By around

1140, then, Christina’s book was complete, but it had also found a new role as the accessory of community devotion.”688 The initial might have been changed to reflect upon and emphasize

Markyate, a female community dedicated to the Trinity. The Litany additionally might show the intended use of the psalter.689 As such, it might show Geoffrey as a mediator and Christina as an intercessor. Geoffrey might draw attention to the books the women hold because he is serving as their textual interpreter. Mediating the books, Geoffrey might enable Christina to achieve entry to the sacred space where she might be able to function as spiritual intercessor.

Besides the illustration, the saints included in the Litany have been connected to

Christina. In addition, Wormald indicates that there are St. Albans characteristics in the

Litany. 690 Comparing the saints in the Litany with those in the calendar reveals many similarities.

Of the ten Anglo-Saxon saints listed in the calendar, five appear in the Litany: Alban, Edmund,

Dunstan, Cuthbert, and Etheldretha. What is more striking are the correlation of female saints in these two sections. The Calendar lists twenty-seven female saints, not counting liturgical feasts such as the Assumption or the Nativity of Mary. Of these twenty-seven, sixteen are listed in the

688 Ibid.. 689 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 319. 690 Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 5.

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litany: Mary Magdalene, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Agnes, Cecilia, Lucy, Scholastica, Fides,

Praxedis, Anastasia, Christina, Prisca, Catherine, Margaret, Bridgid, and Etheldreda. The similarities between the Litany and Calendar may indicate that both items were created for the same individual.

Visual Unity in the Psalter

There is visual unity throughout the different sections in the Psalter, and this fact provides additional evidence of a larger program or design. The unity might signify that these parts were intended to be bound together. They might also signify that the book had an overall message or agenda for Christina, as well. This unity has already been introduced in chapters two and four.

Journeys are emphasized in the Alexis Quire and the miniature cycle. In the first miniature of the Alexis Quire, Alexis sets sail for his new life in Christ after leaving his grieving, newly-wed bride. This quire also depicts Christ as he travels with two of his disciples, albeit unbeknownst to them. Journeys in the miniature cycle include the Flight into Egypt, the Return from Egypt, the Journey of the Three Kings, and their Return, The Expulsion from Paradise, The

Entry in Jerusalem, and The Carrying the Cross. Although the journeys shown in the Psalter are generally physical ones involving travel, they represent the spiritual, inward path of faith that

Christina, and all Christians, were required to make.

An iconographic detail links the Ascension miniature (Page 54) in the miniature cycle and Christ Disappearing at the Supper at Emmaus (Page 71) in the Alexis Quire.691 Both of these

691 The Ascension miniature can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page054.shtml. The Christ 149

miniatures represent the Ascension by depicting only Christ’s lower legs and feet. Christ is rendered differently in each. Christ at Emmaus ascends facing frontally while Christ in the miniatures appears in profile due to his turned feet. This similarity points to the artistry of the

Alexis Master who painted these two sections of the book, a fact that was discussed in chapter two. The iconography of Christ is an Anglo-Saxon motif “a feature deriving from an Anglo-

Saxon homily.”692

The three portraits of David—David as a Musician (see image 26), The Beatus Initial

(Page 72, see image 23), and David with his Musicians (see image 49)--serve as codas for three sections of the book.693 The Miniature cycle, the Alexis Quire, and the psalms and prayers all end with a portrait of David. The calendar is the only component of the book that omits a portrait of David. However, the calendar ends with a blank page, perhaps suggesting that an image of

David was intended.694 Iconographic similarities unify these portraits. In each illustration, David is seated either on a throne or chair, and he is represented as a musician. He plays a viol or rebeck in the first and last miniatures and he plays a harp in the Beatus initial. The dove of the

Holy Spirit provides inspiration in the first two illustrations but is absent in the final miniature.

The exclusion of the dove in this final image might indicate that all inspiration precedes this miniature and is contained within the psalms. The miniature visually demonstrates that no insights follow it.

Disappearing miniature can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page071.shtml. 692 Geddes, “Page 54 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page054.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 693 David as a Musician can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page056.shtml. 694 Adolf Goldschmidt suggested that this page was supposed to receive a Beatus initial. Der Albani-Psalter in Hildesheim und seine Beziehung zur symbolischen Kirchensculptur des XII (Berlin: Jahrhunderts, 1895), 37. 150

Scholarship has viewed these David illustrations as anomalies or mistakes. Geddes refers to them as “three false starts” 695 while Powell sees them as “ill-placed.”696 Both Geddes and

Powell argue that these portraits show how the psalter changed when it was rededicated to

Christina. The bifolium of the Martyrdom of Alban and David and his Musicians (Pages 416-17), now at the end of the manuscript, could represent the original frontispiece to the psalter before it was rededicated to Christina.697 The Martyrdom of St. Alban depicts the saint’s death through beheading. The executioner points his sword at the saint as his eyes fall from his head. A judge and standard-bearer accompany the executioner. Alban’s soul exits through his mouth and is carried to heaven by an angel. In the heavens, Christ glowers at the viewer, while Alban’s soul, now in the form of a dove, enters heaven. The miniature for the Martyrdom of Alban (Page 416) was not originally intended for the page it appeared upon. There are ruled lines scored on the page beneath it.698 The original intentions were therefore abandoned. This page offers additional evidence that the psalter is one of accretion. Like the Alexis Quire this page could be the product of a spiritual conversation.

695 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 211. Each David portrait “fails to make the impact of a correct frontispiece to the Psalms. However, each in their own way reflects Geoffrey’s developing commitment to the book and to Christina” (Ibid.). 696 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 299. Geddes and Powell make mistakes when analyzing the portraits, which undermine their arguments on the whole. For example, Powell states at least twice that the Alexis Quire contains two portraits of David. This is not true. The Alexis includes only the Beatus initial on page 72. The miniature cycle ends with a miniature of David that directly precedes the Alexis; on the last page of quire four, this image is not part of the Alexis Quire despite its proximity to it. Geddes makes an error with the same miniature. She states that David as a Musician follows the Ascension miniature. “The St. Albans Psalter,” 211. Actually, the Pentecost miniature precedes the David portrait in quire four. Her arguments comparing Ascension to David as a Musician carry less validity as a consequence. 697 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 211; Pacht, Dodwell, and Wormald, The St. Albans Psalter, 162. 698 Geddes, Page 416 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page416.shtml (accessed August 14, 2012). 151

David and his Musicians (Page 417) shows David with six musicians. David sits in the

middle and plays a rebeck. On either side of him are two figures playing harps. Above, two

musicians play cymbals and trumpets. Below, two figures play timbrels. This miniature might

allude to Christina’s community. The progression of singular David portraits in the psalter to this

communal one might demonstrate the growth of the community of Markyate. During the time of

the production of the Alexis Quire (c. 1125-1130), Christina would have been alone in Roger’s

cell. Over time, however, women religious came to reside with her. This growth is apparent

towards the end of the book in the initial for Psalm 149, the Litany, and finally in the last David

portrait. The manuscript, in the end, was intended for use by Christina and her community. This

miniature might also signify the Church hierarchy. As the largest figure, David clearly leads the

band. If this miniature is compared to the relationship of Christina and Geoffrey, David can be

seen as Geoffrey and the smaller musicians as following his lead. David is supported by his

musicians in this miniature just as Christina was supported financially by St. Albans and

spiritually by Geoffrey.

This quire’s inclusion had a specific meaning for Christina. The final bifolium of the

book was, in fact, intended for Christina. Painted by the same artists who worked on the psalm

initials,699 this quire was most likely produced around the same time as either the psalter or calendar. The Martyrdom of Alban shows the institutional support of Christina as well as associating the book with its production at St. Albans scriptorium. In this sense, the miniature of

Alban acts as a type of autograph, linking Christina with St. Albans in the same way the Life did—to claim Christina as a saint and build a cult for her.

699 Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter,” 211; Kathryn Gerry, “The Alexis Quire and the cult of saints at St. Albans,” Historical Research 82, no. 218 (November 2009): 601.Gerry states that these miniatures were “executed by a different hand from the prefatory miniatures and those of the Alexis Quire” (Ibid.) 152

The miniature of David as a Musician at the end of the miniature cycle serves to conclude

the cycle and transition into the Alexis quire.700 As Christ’s ancestor, David prefigures him and

reminds us that the Old Testament anticipates the New. Consequently, David reminds us that the

psalms should be interpreted in a Christian context. While David foreshadows Christ, Alexis

imitates him. These facing miniatures ultimately serve to keep the focus on Christ.

Page 73 in the Psalter serves to unify the book as a whole.701 Powell refers to this page as

a “letter-picture.”702 It represented an inverse image of the miniatures and initials: “The objective

here, then, was to create an image of Scripture that is the inverted parallel of both the psalter

initials and the full-page paintings, simultaneously. Read this way, this page, despite its

somewhat hasty, awkward, and incomplete execution, would represent a final attempt to express

the orchestration of text and image in the different sections of the codex as a unity, varying facets of one idea.”703 The graphemes on page 73 occupy a middle group between script and art. As a consequence, this page expresses the idea that the book privileges neither word nor image; both

are crucial to the creation and interpretation of meaning. 704

The accretions and supposed anomalies in the manuscript show that the book as a whole

was a work in progress and might have developed, like the Alexis Quire, due to spiritual

conversations between Geoffrey and Christina. Therefore, based on the evidence presented, the

manuscript might be considered as intended for Christina’s use instead of adapted at a later stage

for her.

700 David as a Musician can be found at the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page056.shtml. 701 Powell, “Making the Psalter of Christina of Markyate,” 324. 702 Ibid. 703 Ibid. 704 Ibid., 328.

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CHAPTER SIX

Designed with Christina in mind, the St. Albans Psalter presents a visual and textual agenda and offers a message for Christina and her fellow women religious at Markyate. The

Psalter functions to tell Christina how to behave and thus acts as a manual or code of conduct.

However, the book itself must be decoded. Its message is not blatantly obvious but results from a careful consideration of the image and text. In its entirety, the manuscript enjoins Christina to read / pray, remain enclosed, care for and nurture the nuns at Markyate, and listen to her male superiors in the Church.

Female Spirituality in the Twelfth Century

I have discussed a brief history of female spirituality and religious life in chapter one. A more thorough understanding of twelfth-century female spirituality will help to situate the psalter in its contemporary context. There were two attitudes toward women religious in the twelfth century. First, some ecclesiastics were open to female spirituality and showed a desire to help them. Peter Abelard and Robert of Deutz saw women as spiritual equals to men and emphasized their valuable characteristics such as “piety, mercy, and tenderness.”705 Second, other ecclesiastics viewed women as threats to masculine spirituality and wanted to exercise greater control over women religious. This view developed in response to the increase in women religious in the eleventh century. Kathryn Kelsey Staples and Ruth Mazo Karras state that this

705 Giles Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996), 66. 154

growth began to place a strain on male clerics who needed to provide spiritual direction and support for the women, a burden that detracted from their contemplative time.706

More than a burden, however, women represented a real threat to masculine spirituality.

In particular, female sexuality was a major cause of concern and a leading factor in the growing distrust of women. The female body was often to blame for women’s greater sexual appetite.

Vincent of Beauvais (1190-1264) describes female anatomy as a reason for their greater lust.

Cold by nature, women desired the heat of men, which they could only receive through sexual intercourse.707 Vincent writes, “The nervous aspect of the female complexion ensures that every sensible nerve is desirous of repletion through contact with sperm. But only the lower nerves of the uterus are moistened and sated, while the upper nerves are unabated in their titillation.”708 As a consequence, women are the most lustful creatures on earth, the mare their only potential contender.709

The rapacious nature of female sexuality could be described as an ailment of the soul rather than the body. In his discussion of sexuality and the flesh, Augustine focuses primarily on the individual will. He theorizes that sexual desire is greater in those whose souls contain an imperfection known as a concupiscentia carnis.710 This flaw causes a person to favor the flesh and thus it was “a dark drive to control, to appropriate, and to turn to one’s private ends, all the good things that had been created by God to be accepted with gratitude and shared with

706 Kathryn Kelsey Staples and Ruth Mazo Karras, “Christina’s Tempting: Sexual Desire and Women’s Sanctity,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London, Routledge, 2005),188. 707 Dyan Elliot, Fallen Bodies: Pollution, Sexuality, and Demonology in the Middle Ages (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999), 38. 708 Ibid. 709 Ibid., 37. 710 Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 418. 155

others.”711 Sexual sin, then, was a manifestation of a disturbance in the soul; it functioned to show an inner, hidden flaw.

Whether sexual sins derived from the body or the soul, one thing was certain: women were guilty of them. Even women religious were not exempt. Innocent III (c. 1160 - 1216) referred to the community of St. Agatha as a brothel “which infected with its evil reputation the whole country around it.”712 Abelard saw women religious as sexually voracious; attractive nuns work as prostitutes while the older ones serve as their pimps.713 Later, during John I’s reign

(1166-1216, reigned 1199-1216) in England, the misbehavior of female religious was so scandalous that few exclaimed shock upon hearing tales of the licentious nuns of Avesbury. 714

There, all the nuns were profligate, and the abbess herself had given birth to three children. 715

Men’s fear of female sexuality manifested itself in several modes. According to Ruth

Mazo Karras, women “might be temptresses and lure men into fornication or worse sins, they might behave in masculine ways with each other and so usurp male gender privilege, or they might use sexuality in other ways to control men. The use of magic was a fear that recurred repeatedly.”716 These concerns dealt ultimately with power issues and the fear that women would appropriate the male hegemonic privilege. Women were vilified and used as convenient

711 Ibid. 712 Henry C. Lea, The History of Sacerdotal Celibacy in the Christian Church (New York: Russell and Russell, 1957), 219. 713 Ibid. 714 Ibid., 235. 715 Ibid. 716 Ruth Mazo Karras, Sexuality in Medieval Europe: Doing unto Others (New York: Routledge, 2005), 116. According to Margaret Miles, this misogyny was apparent in visual art as well. For example, on the frontispiece of The Ladder of Divine Ascent, a vagina represents the mouth of hell: this image “shows monks climbing the ladder to God while tiny demons attempt to pull them off the ladder. Some of the monks fall into an open, sucking mouth/vagina on the earth’s surface. Margaret R. Miles, Carnal Knowing: Female Nakedness and Religious Meaning in the Christian West (Boston: Beacon Press, 1989), 156. 156

lecherous scapegoats. For example, if a man felt lust for a woman, he displaced his emotion onto the woman, arguing that she incited this emotion within him, and as a result, she needed to be restrained. The fault lay with the woman who caused the lust (even if she did not intend to incite this emotion), not with the man.

The reforms of clerical marriage in the eleventh and twelfth century also led to a negative view of women. During these reforms, the Church sought to eliminate clerical marriage and enforce chastity for all priests. The wives were often blamed for their husband’s misconduct. At the very least, they were viewed as a financial burden and a defiler of sacred space, but they also could be seen as lusty and greedy termagants who hectored their husbands.717 These wives frequently received harsher punishments than their husbands did. Although some wives were permitted to remain with their husbands contingent on their chastity, 718 others were abandoned to lives of poverty719 or were forced into slavery. 720

Due to this suspicion and distrust of women, the twelfth century held fewer opportunities for women who wanted to lead religious lives. In the second quarter of the twelfth century, misogyny sprouted deep roots. As a result, women were moved away from their male counterparts, double monasteries became strictly male, and women were closed behind doors and walls.721 Giles Constable states that some nunneries were like prisons, and he cites the example of the woman at Obazine: “A striking example of this shift is found at Obazine, where the women, who had at first lived ‘not far’ from the men, were removed to a greater distance and,

717 Elliot, Fallen Bodies, 83-84. 718 Lea, The History of Sacerdotal Celibacy, 86-7. 719 Elliot, Fallen Bodies, 83. 720 Lea, The History of Sacerdotal, 102. Elliot states that these denounced wives were sent to the Lateran Palace in 1050 to work as slaves. Spiritual Marriage: Sexual Abstinence in Medieval Wedlock (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 102. 721 Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century, 73-4. 157

later, after the subjection to Dalon in 1142, were enclosed in a building with double doors, of which one was always kept closed.” 722 Space, physical walls, and constructed barriers served to contain women and their depraved sexual natures.

These attitudes and negative perceptions of women can be seen in the four negative initials in the St. Albans Psalter. In the next section, I will argue that these initials reflect contemporary concerns over female sins and sexuality.

The Four Historiated Initials

The four historiated initials, Psalm 36 on page 140, Psalm 51 on page 173, Psalm 67:22 on page 200 and Psalm 118:33 on page 315 largely illustrate the vices and sins of women in the

St. Albans Psalter. All of them represent lust or lechery, but they also show the sins of malice, pride, and vanity. As discussed in chapter five, these initials do not illustrate the psalm text or follow a visual precedent set in other manuscripts. As a consequence, these initials had an important message and served to fulfill the agenda of the designers. Drawing attention to contemporary concerns that women could not only feel lust but could inflame lust in men, the initials operate as part of the larger agenda, and thus they function to show inappropriate and sinful conduct.

The initial N for Psalm 36 on page 140 illustrates Christ and the Psalmist conversing while a female figure skulks behind them, potentially intruding on their conversation. There is no exact parallel between the psalm text and illustration, but it is clear that neither the Psalmist nor the woman are sinful. For example, the psalm verses indicate that the sinful person will wither and “will not be able to stand.” The female figure clearly is not withering. Instead, she seems to

722 Ibid. 158

thrive because of the divine knowledge that she receives from the Word of God, the book that she holds. She is delighting in Scriptures. The title for this psalm is “Delight,” and this initial represents delight in the Lord. Both the Psalmist and the female figure show different routes of spiritual delight. The Psalmist converses directly with Christ. The woman, separated from them by the crossbar of the “N” finds Christ by reading her book..

The initial alludes to the Church hierarchy and reveals the reason for clerical supervision of women. The hierarchy is made evident through the pointing hands. Christ points to the

Psalmist who then gestures towards the woman. This pointing implies that Christ communicates to the Psalmist alone; the woman must learn about divine revelation through her male superior.

The initial alludes to the importance of maintaining the social order and the status quo. This concern originated in early Christianity when the religion depended on patriarchy in order to establish itself. Without men as the heads of households, society would collapse and Christianity would not succeed.723 Augustine correlated the church’s survival with Roman society and argued that social “bonds” be enforced. Peter Brown writes that Paul “lays down a strict hierarchy of submission of Christ to God, man to Christ, woman to man.” 724

Writing to the Corinthian church, Paul addressed women who stopped wearing veils and thus were essentially ignoring their prescribed gender roles. Dyan Elliot states, “Paul reminds his audience of the Jewish requirement that women’s heads be covered as a symbol of female subjection and further insists that women keep silence in church.”725 Augustine cites an example of the chaos that can ensue when women discard traditional gender roles in their marriages and assume a newfound independence. Augustine shares the example of Ecdicia, a woman who

723 Brown, The Body and Society, 55, 398-99. 724 Elliot, Spiritual Marriage, 21. 725 Ibid. 159

entered a chaste union with her husband and thereupon assumed control of the family’s finances:

Ecdicia “a local lady of high status, had considered that her marriage with her husband was at an end when she no longer slept with him. When once she had defied her husband’s authority over her body, Ecdicia plainly felt that she could deny his authority over her in all other matters. He was ‘dead’ to her. She put on a widow’s dress and promptly took back control over her own property, which she then gave away to a pair of wandering monks.”726 Angered by his wife’s charity, the husband then committed adultery, breaking his vow of chastity, in order to get even with his wife.727 Augustine blamed this situation upon Ecdicia and reaffirmed that despite vows of chastity, a husband retains his conjugal dominance.728 The initial shows this hierarchy through the figures’ pointing hands and alludes to its necessity due to the woman’s inherent sexuality which needs to be contained and controlled by men, even though the woman is not outwardly sinful.

All women, even holy ones, contained an inner, monstrous nature that could emerge at any time.729 Due to their grotesque nature, women needed to be separated from holy spaces. The mistrust and fear of women resulted in an exclusion of them from spaces deemed sacred especially from the ninth to the twelfth centuries.730 Jane Tibbets Schulenburg writes that the church strived for the “segregation, containment, and exclusion of women from sacred space.

With the emphasis on celibacy, cultic purity, and the underlying fear of female sexuality and threat of moral contagion, the church was highly suspicious of women assuming the privilege of

726 Brown, The Body and Society, 403-4. 727 Elliot, Spiritual Marriage, 57-8. 728 Ibid. 729 Miles, Carnal Knowing, 151. 730 Jane Tibbets Schulenburg, “Gender, Celibacy, and Proscriptions of Sacred Space: Symbol and Practice,” in Medieval Purity and Piety: Essays on Medieval Clerical Celibacy and Religious Reform, ed. Michael Frassetto (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998), 355. 160

entering monastic churches and their precincts.”731 Communities, especially those of the

Cistercians, and hermits enacted this separation and those who violated it could suffer excommunication. 732 For example, a recluse named Goeznou refused to allow women to approach his hermitage, using a large stone as a blocking mechanism. He warned his community that any woman who passed his barrier would die.733 The female figure in the initial serves as a warning of what lurks within every woman—a base appetite and a weak will. This fact is evidenced by the initial which bars the woman from encroaching any more on Christ and the

Psalmist. The female figure in this initial alludes to women who frequently tested the boundaries, imposing themselves on sanctified areas and refusing to adhere to constructed boundaries.

Moving from the enclosed yet holy figure in Psalm 36, a transgressive woman is presented in the initial Q for psalm 51 on page 173. This initial shows a man and woman kissing while Christ glares at them and holds forth a book that reads, “Why do you glory in malice?”

This image deviates from the psalm text which focuses solely on malice and the destructive powers of speech. Geddes believes that the woman personifies Malice, which she claims is “the mother of all sins.”734 Indeed, this figure does spurn God and ignore him while blatantly besieging one of God’s children. According to the psalm text, she spreads injustice through her speech, seeks to ruin people with her words, and believes in riches and vanity. The text emphasizes the danger of gossip and lies. The illustration, however, portrays lust and greed.

731 Schulenburg, “Gender, Celibacy, and Proscriptions of Sacred Space,” 362-63. Schulenburg does note that wealthy women were sometimes admitted where other women would be denied (Ibid., 369). 732 Ibid., 356. 733 Ibid., 357. 734 Jane Geddes, “Page 173 Commentary” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml (accessed October 8, 2012). 161

The image reflects twelfth-century concerns about sexuality and clerical marriage.

Women will use their feminine wiles to ensnare any man and distract him from his responsibilities. The male figure is so distracted, he cannot pay attention to the Word of God.

Moreover, he has detached himself from his group and is completely focused on the woman and her promiscuous advances. The ring that the man holds symbolizes a clerical marriage. He is no longer wedded to the church but has forsaken the divine institution for an earthly, tainted union, a union that leaves him unable to perform his sacerdotal duties because he is defiled. The woman’s purse likewise symbolizes marriage, but for her, it is a dowry that she brings to her unholy wedding.

The perceived lasciviousness of women resulted in continual denunciation of them and ended in their blame for clerical incontinence. Peter Damian (1007-1072) derided clerical wives and concubines, referring to them as harpies, sirens, and vipers.735 Describing the sexual behavior of vipers in his bestiary, Damian writes, “the male [viper] thrusts its head into the mouth of the female. Impatient in her lovemaking, she bites off the head and swallows it.”736

Similar to female vipers, clerical wives “out of ardor of impatient lust decapitate Christ, the head of clerics in [their] lovers” and as a result they are “tear[ing] unfaithful men from the ministry of the altar which they enjoyed, so that [the women] suffocate them in the slippery glue of [their] love.”737 A cannibal, the clerical wife “rapes the altar” by defiling a priest and depriving the community at large of spiritual benefits.738 The sins of clerical wives and women in general are infectious and have the ability to spread throughout the Church. Similar to the Psalm 36 initial, this one represents the need to contain and cordon off women. Without enclosure, women will

735 Elliot, Fallen Bodies, 101. 736 Ibid. 737 Ibid. 738 Ibid., 102-3. 162

wreak havoc on the world, becoming like the female figure in Psalm 51 whose femininity and sinfulness are unrestrained.

Enclosure takes the forefront as a motif in Psalm 67.20 on page 200. The initial displays two couples embracing as Christ leans out of heaven to strike them with a sword. Examining the psalm text, these couples can be correlated with the enemies of God.739 According to the text,

“God shall break the heads of his enemies: the hairy crown of them that walk in their sins.”

Furthermore, sinners will be “thrown into the depths of the sea.” Although the text mentions sinners, it primarily serves to praise and beseech God to rid the world of evil. The initial seems to continue from the preceding one on page 198. This preceding initial for Psalm 67 (Page 198) shows Christ hitting two demons that writhe on the floor.740 When the similarities between these two initials are considered, the lustful couples are comparable to demons.

Psalm 67:20 depicts the dangers of women who are not enclosed. The solitary tree illustrates the lack of enclosure. Due to their sexual nature, women needed to be protected from themselves. Women were more susceptible to temptation, and in particular faced four “enemies” according to Idung of Prufenung: “their own lust, the lust of men, their curiosity and the devil.”741 These temptations were reasons for female enclosure. Claustration occurred supposedly to protect women, but it also functioned to separate men and women, a separation which would prevent the behavior illustrated by this initial. Bernard of Clairvaux felt the sexes needed to be isolated from each other because “it is easier to raise the dead than to be alone with

739 Geddes, “Page 200 Commentary” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml (accessed October 8, 2012). 740 The image for Psalm 67 can be found at http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page198.shtml 741 Staples and Karras, “Christina’s Tempting,” 189. 163

a woman and not have sex.”742 Owing to this belief, he discouraged women and men from working together at a Premonstratensian mill.743

In addition to arguing for enclosure, the initial demonstrates the progression of sin from vanity to lust. The female figures in this initial wear fashionable dresses with long, drooping sleeves which symbolize vanity. Pinkish-red in color, the dresses suggest lust.744 The connection between these sins was discussed by medieval preachers, especially John Bromyard who stated that a woman adorned with finery is “a spark breathing out hell-fire, which this wretched incendiary of the Devil breaths so effectually...that, in a single day, by her dancing or perambulation through the town, she inflames with the fire of lust—it may be—twenty of those who behold her, damning the souls whom God has created and redeemed at such a cost for their salvation.”745 Committing the sin of vanity, women imbue lust in men, and therefore, their sins multiply from a seemingly innocent sin to one more treacherous and incendiary.

The progression of sins becomes more complex and overt in the large illustration for

Psalm 118.33 on page 315. This initial presents two couples on the bottom of the page. As mentioned in chapter five, the first couple symbolizes vanity while the second represents lechery.

The progression of sins from vanity to lust is more evident in this initial than in Psalm 51 or

Psalm 67.20 which show multiple sins simultaneously. It is clear in this initial that the woman who engages in vanity will then be susceptible to greater crimes. The implication here is that vanity, like gossip in Psalm 51, serves as a gateway sin. Once committed, a woman is tempted to

742 Anne Clark Bartlett, “‘A Reasonable Affection’ Gender and Spiritual Friendship in Middle English Devotional Literature,” in Vox Mystica: Essays on Medieval Mysticism (Cambridge: D.S Brewer, 1995), 135. 743 Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century, 71-2. 744 Geddes, “Page 200 Commentary.” 745 G.R. Owst, Literature and Pulpit in Medieval England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1933), 395. 164

more egregious sins. It therefore seems important to avoid committing vanity at all costs or to avoid seemingly minor sins, a fact that the title of the psalm emphasizes: about halfway down the page, a man holds a banner that reads “Turn away my eyes [that they may not behold vanities],” and he points to the couples below him as examples of vanity.

The sins of vanity and lust were connected in the minds of medieval preachers. A vain woman invariably also became lecherous. Friar Waldeby compares the narcissistic woman to empty chimneys:

In the chambers of lords, chimneys of stone or of plaster are sometimes erected,

and whitened and ornamented at the top with battlements, turrets, and windows:

yet there comes out thence a smoke that is filthy and very blinding to the eyes of

those who are near. Thus do these wanton women set themselves up in public like

graceful columns, but within they are as empty as a chimney, because they lack

virtues. They ornament their head like the chimney-top with garlands, crowns and

gems set therein: nevertheless nothing comes forth thence but foul smoke and

temptation to lechery. 746

Women suffering from vanity may look beautiful, but this is just a show; they have nothing of beauty within themselves. Their exterior brilliance signifies that they prefer gems to graces. Vain woman do more than look pretty, though; they perform the devil’s work, snaring men and enticing them to do evil. Prideful women, then, do not only become lustful themselves, but they stir lust in others.

Not only does the text admonish its reader to avoid vanity, it also requests that penitents adopt a law. The psalm offers advice about how to turn away from sin. First, the penitent must

746 Owst, Literature and Pulpit, 392. 165

admit he or she has erred. The text on this page reads: “My soul has stuck to the floor invigorate me according to your word. / I have declared my ways / and you have heard me.” Then, he or she should beseech God for truth: “[S]trengthen me in your words./ Remove from me the way of wickedness: and according to / your law have mercy on me. / I have chosen the way of truth.”

Finally, the penitent should request a set of laws by which to live: “Set before me a law.” This alludes to the need for women religious to adopt formal orders and take vows.

The discussion of these historiated initials shows that they portray specific sins.

Considered alone, they are not readily or easily connected together, especially since they are not located near each other in the manuscript. However, there is a sequence to the psalm initials and commonalities which link them together. Each initial contains a main theme of emphasis and a sub-theme. The sub-theme of one initial becomes the main theme of the negative initial that follows it. For example, Psalm 36 focuses on Church hierarchy and the necessity of maintaining gender roles. Its sub-theme is clerical marriage. Psalm 51 takes clerical marriage as its main theme while enclosure is its sub-theme. Enclosure and the progression of sins are the main and sub-themes of Psalm 67.20, respectively. Finally, Psalm 118.33 focuses primarily on the progression of sins, but it also shows the need for enclosure. This group of initials as a whole deals with lust and shows women as temptations or problems for men. Presenting images of sinfulness, these initials prove why Christina must obey her superiors, remain enclosed, and adopt a rule. They show that women are inherently sexual beings who cannot ever fully contain or repress their libidinal urges. As a result, women must be removed from the public sphere, contained by walls which will house their sexual desires.

The negative initials only operate as one part of the Psalter’s agenda. The Psalter likewise directs Christina on how she should act. Positive representations in the manuscript advocate

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correct behavior. This discussion will be limited to three positive illustrations: the miniature of

Alexis and his bride in the Alexis Quire on page 57 (see image 40), the Annunciation miniature in the miniature cycle on page 19 (see image 31), and the Christina initial on page 285 (see image 30).747 Created before the other quires in the manuscript, the Alexis Quire presented

Christina with her first visual image of model behavior. This miniature is divided into three compartments. In the first, Alexis and his bride stand by a bed as Alexis presents her with a sword belt and a ring. Next to it, the bride stands in the doorway as Alexis leaves the home. In the last section of the miniature, Alexis sails away. This image reveals that a woman’s spiritual journey must be sought inside, while men can travel in the world to pursue their religious aspirations. As such, this miniature shows the dichotomy of male and female religious. Geoffrey is permitted in the world, but Christina is not. It also demonstrates how women must obey their husbands or male superiors.

The Alexis miniature primarily emphasizes the gender distinctions in religious life and makes an argument for female enclosure. The miniature cycle was created later, and The

Annunciation enlarges Christina’s spiritual role. In fact, the portrait of Mary serves as the key to decoding the rest of the Psalter and interpreting the depictions of women in it. The image shows the Virgin seated with a book open on her lap. She raises a hand as she listens to the words of

Gabriel who approaches. All of Christina’s necessary roles are exemplified by the Virgin Mary.

Not only is the Virgin enclosed, but she also spends her time in prayer. She obeys her male

747 These images can be found in the online facsimile on pages 57, 19, and 285, respectfully. For the Alexis miniature, see the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page057.shtml. For the Annunciation miniature, see the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page019.shtml. For the Christina Initial, see the following URL: http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page285.shtml. 167

superiors, represented as Gabriel in the miniature, and in doing so, she adopts a position as a

mother by conceiving Christ.

The Christina initial presents Christina’s final role which depends on her following her

aforementioned roles. In this function, Christina serves as an intercessor for St. Albans and the

monks who live there.748 As a holy woman, she should keep St. Albans and its community in her

prayers, interceding for their behalf with God. The surrounding negative initials are crucial to the

agenda because they remind Christina that in her role as intercessor, she must always be wary of

temptations and her inner lustful nature to emerge.

Having a knowledge of the Psalter’s potential agenda, I can now turn to Christina and

how she may have read the negative initials.

Christina’s Interpretation

The following section will advance one possible reading of the negative initials as seen through Christina’s eyes. Before analyzing these initials, I will first try to discover why Christina may have preferred a different reading than the one presented to her.

Evidence from her vita suggests that Christina’s sense of independence remained, and she did not completely submit to male leadership or their attempts to impose a certain identity on her. On the surface, it appears that Christina did follow the spiritual program laid out for her in the Psalter. She adopted a vow and remained at Markyate, thereby submitting to structured religion and male clerical supervision. She prayed and contemplated her psalter. Finally, she

748 Rachel Koopmans, “Dining at Markyate with Lady Christina,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 157; Jane Geddes, “The St. Albans Psalter: The Abbot and the Anchoress,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (New York: Routledge, 2005),199. 168

cared for her sisters in Christ, even if she treated them harshly on occasion. Despite these seeming concessions, there are instances of independence in the Life. For each act that appears submissive, Christina appears to assert a sense of dominance over her life. Although she professed her vows, she kept control over her religious vocation through the foundation charter.

In addition, she does pray profusely for Geoffrey in the Life, but she also refuses to heed his summons when he wants to see her, she has no qualms about reprimanding him for his sins, and she frequently offers her own opinion on his ventures.749 Similarly, Christina acts as an intercessor, but she does so on her own terms, refusing to intercede until the parties in need beg her for help. For example, an epileptic woman came to Christina seeking relief from her illness;

Christina refused to help her and admitted “it had nothing to do with her.”750 She only conceded to help the suffering woman after numerous people added their entreaties to those of the supplicant and they all agreed to celebrate mass together. The biographer couches these incidents as testaments of Christina’s holiness. These excerpts could be read as acts of defiance on

Christina’s part. After all, there is no reason for her to make a suffering woman beg repeatedly for assistance, and the fact that she does so makes Christina seem cruel and merciless. The agenda in the Psalter was not able to completely eradicate Christina’s willfulness.

Given Christina’s moments of defiance, it is not likely that she internalized negative views on women or saw herself as monstrous or grotesque. Besides examining the vita, historical information may be helpful. Jane Tibbets Schulenberg writes that women were frustrated by masculine views of them and frequently fought back, often in physical, transgressive ways when they were barred from sacred spaces: “These defiant women perhaps saw these discriminatory

749 C. H. Talbot, The Life of Christina of Markyate, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 60; Ibid, 64; Ibid, 71. 750 Ibid., 49. 169

measures exactly as they were—not divinely inspired, natural or inevitable but rather culturally determined man-made proscriptions of sacred space used to control, regulate social behavior, or accommodate financial gain. In their acts of insubordination, in overstepping the arbitrary thresholds or boundaries and pushing aside the man-made barriers which were designated to cordon off sacred space, these medieval women dared to protest publicly the inequalities of these policies for themselves and their sex.”751 It is clear that some women did not agree with perceptions of them or their treatment. Christina’s acts of dominance can be seen as ways through which she fought back and protested behavioral norms enforced on her.

Women found other, more subversive ways to challenge male dominance in their lives.

According to Anne Bartlett, women in medieval society often exercised “strategic ignorance” by claiming that they could not understand what they read. When asked to do something by a bishop, an abbess or prioress might maintain that she did not understand the bishop’s letter and thus could not comply with his wishes.752 Bartlett cites the fact that the same houses that claimed ignorance bought books in Latin and Middle English; therefore, there were people in the convents who could read, but they pretended otherwise.753 These women religious used contemporary notions of female ignorance in order to avoid complying with sanctions with which they did not agree. They were not openly protesting the sanctions, but using passivity to their advantage.

751 Schulenburg, “Gender, Celibacy, and Proscriptions of Sacred Space,” 370-71. 752 Bartlett, Male Authors, Female Readers, 23. 753 Ibid. Bartlett writes, “During the same time, for example, that the episcopal sanctions were issued at Markyate and Ankerwyke, both houses possessed and acquired books, written in Latin and in Middle English. And one text even contains an inscription apparently written by the book’s owner! Consequently, despite their protestations of illiteracy, the women at these houses clearly had residents who could read and write in Latin as well as Middle English” (Ibid., 24). 170

If these assumptions about Christina are correct, her independent spirit may have allowed her to create her own meaning from the Psalter rather than a sanctioned one. Most likely,

Christina would have been aware of the interpretations she was supposed to glean from these initials and would have known the thoughts on female bodies, their weak flesh, and the fact that they were temptations. Not only was this information communicated through the manuscript, it would have been evident in sermons, spiritual direction, and attitudes toward women. Given the autonomy she shows in the vita, Christina might not have accepted a viewpoint of the negative initials that was imposed on her. Instead, if the ideas offered about her are acceptable, she may have constructed meaning through her meditations, her life experiences, and her conversations with God.

How might Christina have viewed these initials? I have already mentioned that she would have opted for a word and image analysis. Moreover, due to her unique mind, her interpretation may have deviated from the intended message. Because she was strong, self-righteous, and could probably think for herself, it is unlikely that she would have identified with these women as objects of sin or seen herself as sinful. Instead, she may have gained a sense of liberation and superiority (oddly) from the study of these four initials. Taken together, these initials might have served, not to teach Christina about the sinfulness of women, but more specifically, about what she was doing right in her own life. In essence, Christina may have seen the initials as justifying her own behavior and speaking directly to her.

When Christina examined Psalm 36, she may have seen a woman imbued with divine knowledge. I would suggest that Christina may have viewed this woman as independent of male authority. The composition of the initial could support this reading. Although the female figure is separated from Christ by the crossbeam, she is located under him. Although the pointing hands

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might signify a hierarchy, the woman does not appear to need clerical supervision. Christina may have seen this figure and her book as suggesting that she could bypass male mediation. This initial may have signified to Christina that she could have a direct line to God through his word.

The female figure in Psalm 51, on the other hand, still would have been associated with malice. Christina most likely would have related to this initial in terms of her own experiences.

The Life mentions various individuals who harbored resentments towards her. None of these people is explicitly named, but there were monks at St. Albans and random people from the community who gossiped about her.754 In addition, the initial may have brought back memories of her own marriage, her family’s malicious treatment of her during that time, and clerical disregard for her plight.755 Contrasted with her family, Christina may have aligned herself with the person who is like a “fruitful olive tree” hoping in God rather than reveling in riches or deceit.

Similarly, Christina may have seen her life story in the initial for Psalm 67:20. This initial includes two embracing couples. Although it seems like the women are complicit in their lustful crimes, they may actually be holy. The psalm text alludes to young women playing on timbrels, which suggests that they are praising God. If these women are holy, it is appropriate that God is striking one of the men with a sword. Rather than punishing the couples as a whole, God is protecting the women and avenging them on their would-be seducers. This scene alludes to the many close seduction / rape scenes in Christina’s life.756 In each case, God helped Christina to escape. The message of this psalm is that God would protect Christina.

754 Talbot, The Life, 78. 755 Ibid., 12-25. 756 Ibid., 7-12. 172

Psalm 118:33 brings the three preceding initials together and ends the sequence. It functions first to show Christina that temptations will constantly surround her and second to confirm that she is on the path toward truth. The caption for this psalm “Turn away my eyes [that they may not behold vanities]” may have told Christina to avoid sin and material possessions in general. The pointing hand of the Psalmist clearly indicates that the vanities are below. The couples at the bottom of the page illustrate that temptation is constant: once the woman faces and defeats one temptation, another will arise. The women are resisting sin, not succumbing to it.757

The illustration and the text ask Christina to turn away from sin and resist it just as the women are doing. The initial then tells Christina that she is on the correct spiritual path, as the psalm text indicates: “I have chosen the way of truth: I have not forgotten your judgments. / I have stuck to your testimonies Lord do not throw me into confusion. / I ran the way of your commandments: / when you did enlarge my heart.” There is the chance that temptations and sin could throw

Christina off her spiritual path, but trusting in the Lord and obeying his commandments and judgments, she will remain steadfast.

Christina may have seen an alternate progression or sequence for these initials. The first initial, Psalm 36, tells Christina that she should closely study the Word of God and delight in it.

God will give her divine insight rather than a male superior. The next initial for Psalm 51, shows

Christina that many people would oppose her on her spiritual path. There are those who harbor malice in their hearts and are motivated by gold. Christina knows that God will protect her from

757 Jane Geddes believes that the women in this initial are resisting sin. Geddes writes, Facing him, a woman holds a flowering branch and apple(?) in her hand. While the man looks at his temptations with appreciation, the woman's eye expresses horror and disdain. The next man offers the woman a gold coin and grasps her hand. She leans back, trying to withdraw.” Ibid. “Page 315 Commentary,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml (accessed January 27, 2013).

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these people and will avenge her based on her interpretation of Psalm 67:20. Finally, Psalm

118:33 refers to Psalm 36, bringing the cycle to a close, by affirming that Christina is on the path toward truth.

This potential reading shows that Christina’s intellect and ability to interpret what she reads for herself are upheld. She might have learned that her spiritual path was sound and that her detractors would be dealt with by God. This reading tells us that despite the Psalter’s agenda,

Christina may have chosen an alternative interpretation that affirmed her own sanctity. In creating her own meaning, a meaning not forced upon her or subsumed with subterfuge,

Christina kept and retained a sense of herself and her autonomy. In her own mind, she could mediate texts without interference, discover her own meaning, and in the process, liberate herself from the suffocating textuality which sought to encapsulate her identity.

174

CONCLUSION

In chapter six, I discussed how the Psalter functioned to transform Christina’s behavior to reflect twelfth-century norms. This function, however, presupposes that Christina’s version of spirituality needed to be changed. While I know what St. Albans expected of her, I know very little about what Christina would have wanted for herself.

Although Christina’s desires remain nebulous from our perspective, it is clear that she valued independence. Her independence was manifested first and most prominently in her vow of virginity. She makes this vow in private at Shillington without consulting anyone, and she struggles to keep it despite attempted rape, an ill-conceived marriage, illness, torment by demons, and even her own lust.758 This vow clearly is the means by which Christina contracts her religious career, but it also is a path to personal autonomy as illustrated by her attempt to negotiate a spiritual marriage with Beorhtred. As long as she can remain chaste, Christina will submit to living with Beorhtred for three or four years. Like Ecdicia, encountered in the previous chapter, Christina equates virginity with personal sovereignty.

Christina’s wish for spiritual independence derived from a sense of self-importance and spiritual mastery. Indeed, Christina’s “accession to Roger’s cell seems to represent a move from discipleship to mastery, suggesting a diminished need for a specific spiritual director. This view is supported by the fact that a community of women sprang up around her hermitage.”759 Having inherited Markyate, Christina also assumed Roger’s role of spiritual teacher, a role she translated

758 C. H. Talbot, The Life of Christina of Markyate, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 5-47. 759 Dyan Elliott, “Alternative Intimacies: Men, women and spiritual direction in the twelfth century,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 177. 175

to her relationship with Geoffrey. 760 The Life overemphasizes Christina’s emotional devotion and incessant prayers for the abbot, but it also shows her reproaching him and refusing to speak to him.761 These examples indicate that Christina’s melodramatic prayers might have been a fabrication or a concession to the hagiographic convention, especially since the writer pointedly punctuates the narrative with these episodes. The biographer wants to sanctify Christina, and so he downplays instances of her condescension.

Contradictory information in the Life may give one pause to reflect on what Christina really wanted. The hagiographer presents two different versions of Christina’s profession. First, the author states that Christina wanted to overcome her illness so she could assume her formal vows.762 While awaiting her profession, Christina experiences anxiety about her purity and the state of her virginity. 763 The second, later episode reveals that Christina needed to be persuaded and cajoled by many people in order to take her vows.764 Rather than feeling anxious about her virginity, she is concerned about where she wants to lead her life and even if she wants to make her profession: “She put off the ceremony, uncertain whether she should remain in that place or whether, as she had once thought, she should seek some remote spot, possibly a town off the beaten track where she might enkindle a passion for Christ.”765 Eventually, she does submit to their pleading. Although in the first episode she is eager yet concerned, in the second she is

760 Ibid., 172. 761 Talbot, The Life, 68; Ibid., 88. 762 Ibid., 52. 763 The Life states the following about her concerns: “[S]he decided that she would make her profession in this monastery and would accept the blessing of her longed-for consecration from the bishop, but inwardly she was in a great state of agitation, not knowing what she should do nor what she would say when, at the moment of consecration, he would ask about her virginity. For she remembered the forcefulness of the thoughts and the stings of the flesh with which she had been troubled, and even though she was not aware that she had fallen either in deed or desire, she did not dare assert that she had escaped unscathed from such great storms” (Ibid., 53) 764 Ibid., 63. 765 Ibid. 176

reluctant and unsure. When considered together, these episodes do not make chronological sense and seem to result from editorial interference.766

The first mention of Christina’s profession presents an idealized version. In accordance with twelfth-century concerns over female sexuality, Christina frets over her virginity. At the same time, this episode foregrounds Christina’s attachment to St. Albans, emphasizing the importance of this monastery in Christina’s life before the holy woman has even met Geoffrey or established a connection with the institution. 767 The second version of Christina’s profession is more aligned to what I have posited of Christina’s individuality and independence. Although the earlier episode seems suspect, some of Christina’s desires can be gleaned from it as well as an assertion of her independence. According to the Life, Christina had the opportunity to enter a community either in England or France. However, she turns down these offers in order to remain close to St. Albans: “[G]reat men from renowned monasteries, both from distant parts of England and from far across the sea, often visited her, wanting to take her away with them to add importance and lustre to their foundations by her presence. The archbishop of York in particular tried very hard to honour her by making her superior over the virgins whom he had gathered together under his name at York, or as an alternative to send her over the sea to Marcigny or at least to Fontevrault. But she preferred our monastery.”768 The writer emphasizes that Christina chooses St. Albans, but it is just as likely that she was rejecting a monastic, structured life. Both episodes illustrate a desire for Christina to make her own path.

766 Rachel Koopmans, “Dining at Markyate with Lady Christina,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, ed. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 154. 767 Ibid. 768 Talbot, The Life, 52. 177

It seems most likely that Christina wanted to lead an informal (non-professed) life of solitude. An eremitic career was a possibility for Christina; this solitary lifestyle became popular in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and many eremitic monasteries were founded in the early twelfth century in England.769 Despite her vocation, Christina did not pursue a reclusive life, probably owing both to the cultural and religious climate that wanted to constrain female movement, financial considerations, and her inheritance of Markyate. It was expensive to live as a recluse and Christina would have needed endowments and support from the community. 770

Moreover, she probably had more freedom at Markyate than she would have had at other monasteries, as the foundation charter of Markyate demonstrates: “The charter explicitly states that no cleric or monk was allowed to change the Markyate women’s way of life without their consent.”771 Christina wanted some measure of control over her own spirituality. The choice to remain at Markyate not only gave Christina financial security and a certain amount of freedom, it also gave her the St. Albans Psalter and the chance to mediate the Word of God for herself.

769 Robert Gilchrist, Contemplation and Action: The Other Monasticism (London: Leicester University Press, 1995), 157-9. 770 Stephanie Hollis and Jocelyn Wogan-Browne, “St. Albans and Women’s Monasticism: Lives and their foundations in Christina’s world,” in Christina of Markyate: A Twelfth-Century Holy Woman, eds. Samuel Fanous and Henrietta Leyser (London: Routledge, 2005), 39. 771 Koopmans, “Dining at Markyate,” 156. 178

APPENDIX A

TEXTS IN THE ST. ALBANS PSALTER

The first text in the St. Albans Psalter is a computistical table. It begins with the following words on page two, “Ratio calculandi de duodecim mensi(bus) quib(us) post kalendas nonas uel idib(us). etiam & quot dieb(us) consistant.”772 The Calendar follows on pages three through fourteen. The calendar lists important feast days and obits. Geddes states that there is

“one page per month, with Labours of the Month and the Signs of the Zodiac.”773 Page fifteen contains a table for the Easter Limits. The Chanson of Alexis takes up pages fifty-seven to sixty- eight. Written in French, this hagiography details the Life of Alexis in verse. Following the

Alexis story, the designer has included a letter of Gregory the Great on page sixty-eight. This letter was written to Serenus of Marseilles and it defends the use of images for the edification of the illiterate. This letter appears twice, first in Latin and then in Old French. A Discourse on

Spiritual Battle appears in the margins of pages seventy-one and seventy-two. The Psalms have been written on pages seventy-three to 372. The Psalter uses the Gallican version, a version which differs from the Vulgate.774 Canticles are found on pages 372 to 396. The Lord’s Prayer is on page 396, the Apostles Creed on pages 396-397, Gloria in Excelsis on pages 397 to 398, The

772 Sue Niebrzydowski, “Page 2 Transcription and Translation,” in The St. Albans Psalter Project (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/essays/scribes.shtml (accessed November 24, 2010). 773 Geddes, “Codicology.” 774 Niebrzydowski, “From Scriptorium to Internet: The Implication of Audience on the Translation of the Psalms of the St. Albans Psalter,” in Translation and Religion: Holy Untranslatable?, ed. Lynne Long (Clevedon and Buffalo: Multilingual Matter, 2005), 154. The Gallican version has caused some problems for the online edition. Sue Niebrzydowski articulates the difficulties in translating the Gallican psalms for a modern audience while remaining sensitive to the twelfth-century interpretation of the psalms (Ibid., 156). 179

Nicene Creed from 398 to 399, the Athanasian Creed from pages 399-402, The Litany on pages

403 to 411, and Latin prayers from 411-414.

180

APPENDIX B

LIST OF IMAGES

1. Psalm 36, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page140.shtml.

2. Psalm 51, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml.

3. Psalm 67:20, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml.

4. Psalm 118:33, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml.

5. Christ in Majesty, The Shaftesbury Psalter, in C.M. Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England 700-1500 (London, Harvey Miller, 2003), xxi.

6. Virgin and Child, The Shaftesbury Psalter, in C.M. Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England 700-1500 (London, Harvey Miller, 2003), 137.

7. The Ascension, The Shaftesbury Psalter, in C.M. Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England 700-1500 (London, Harvey Miller, 2003), 126.

8. Pentecost, The Shaftesbury Psalter, in C.M. Kauffmann, Biblical Imagery in Medieval England 700-1500 (London, Harvey Miller, 2003), 128.

9. Example of Style 1 Script. Oxford, Christ Church 115, f. 5, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 32.

10. Example of Scribe A’s Work. Oxford, Christ Church 115, f. 3, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 33.

11. Example of Scribe A’s Work. Oxford, Bodleian Library Bodl 752, f. 1v, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 35.

181

12. Example of Scribe B’s Work. Cambridge, Pembroke College, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 86.

13. Example of Scribe B’s Work. London, British Library Egerton 3721, f. 10, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 87.

14. Example of Group 1 Initial. Cambridge, Kings College 19, f. 120, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 54.

15. Example of Group 1 Initial. Cambridge, Corpus Christi College 290, f. 1, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 49.

16. Example of Group 1 Initial and Scribe A’s Work, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 34.

17. Group I Initial by the Alexis Master. Cambridge, Kings College 19, f. 21 v, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 51.

18. Group I Miniature by the Alexis Master: The Entombment of St. Edmund, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 78.

19. Group 1 Miniature by the Alexis Master: The Scourging of St. Edmund, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 77.

20. Example of Group 2 Initial. Cambridge, Emmanuel College 244, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 99.

21. Example of Group 2 Initial. Cambridge, Pembroke College 180, f. 101v, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 86.

22. Example of Group 2 Miniature: Labour of the Month of August, in Rodney M. Thomson, Manuscripts from St. Albans Abbey 1066-1235, vol. II, Plates (Woodbridge: D.S. Brewer, 1982), 203.

23. Beatus Vir, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml.

182

24. Bifolium of Pages 72 and 73, The St. Albans Psalter, Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page072.shtml.

25. Litany, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, Aberdeen: (University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page403.shtml.

26. David as a Musician, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page056.shtml.

27. Virgo and Example of Artist 1’s Work, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page010.shtml.

28. Psalm 149, Detail, and Example of Artist 2’s Work, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page370.shtml.

29. Canticum Moysi and Example of Artist 2’s Work, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page377.shtml.

30. Psalm 105, Detail, “The Christina Initial,” and Example of Artist 3’s Work, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page285.shtml.

31. Annunciation, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page019.shtml.

32. Psalm 144:10, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page364.shtml.

33. Psalm 88:20, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page250.shtml.

34. Bifolium of Pages 10 and 11, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page010.shtml.

183

35. The Ascension, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page054.shtml.

36. Pentecost. The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page055.shtml.

37. Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page036.shtml.

38. Mary Magdalen Announces the Resurrection, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page051.shtml.

39. Presentation in the Temple, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page028.shtml.

40. Alexis Miniature, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003) http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page057.shtml.

41. Christ on the Road to Emmaus, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page069.shtml.

42. The Supper at Emmaus, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page070.shtml.

43. Christ Disappearing from the Supper at Emmaus, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page071.shtml.

44. Psalm 36, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page140.shtml.

45. Psalm 51, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page173.shtml.

184

46. Psalm 67:20, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page200.shtml.

47. Psalm 118:33, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page315.shtml.

48. Canticum S. Symeonis, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page395.shtml.

49. David with His Musicians, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page417.shtml.

50. The Martyrdom of St. Alban, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page416.shtml.

51. Psalm 1, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page073.shtml.

52. Psalm 67, Detail, The St. Albans Psalter, in Jane Geddes, The St. Albans Psalter Project, (Aberdeen: University of Aberdeen, 2003), http://www.abdn.ac.uk/stalbanspsalter/english/commentary/page198.shtml.

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Erin Dee Moore earned her B.A. from Flagler College in 2005 where she majored in

English and minored in creative writing. She received her M.A. from Florida State University in

2007 and focused on medieval Arthurian literature. Her thesis was entitled Feminine Power and

Desire in the Arthurian Tradition. She worked on her Ph.D. at Florida State University and majored in Interdisciplinary Humanities with a focus on medieval studies and texts technology.

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