Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages: Evidence from German-Speaking Europe (2001) 16

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Tabula Gratulatoria I

Introduction III

Mentality, Human Behaviour, Emotions

1. Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages (1985) 3

2. Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages: Evidence from German-speaking Europe (2001) 16

3. Images and the Power of the Spoken Word (2001) 29

4. The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages: Outburst versus Control of Emotions (2003) 47

Social Order

5. The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages: “Image“ and “Reality“ (1995) 65

6. “Young, Rich and Beautiful“: The Visualization of Male Beauty in the Late Middle Ages (1999) 91

7. Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages (2000) 111

8. The Good and the Bad Example, or Making Use of Le Petit People in Late Medieval Central Europe (2002) 129

Minorities and Marginal Groups

9. Poverty Constructions and Material Culture (2007) 149

10. The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space: Patterns and Constructions (2009) 161

11. The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves (2009) 178

12. Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence (2014) 186

Animals and Other Creatures

13. Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots: Using “Familiar” and “Unfamiliar” Fauna in Late Medieval Visual Representation (2005) 207

14. Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins (2013) 225

15. Dogs in Church (2017) 244

Objects

16. The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life: A Review of Patterns and Contrasts (2009) 263

17. The Bread-Knife (2011) 285

18. Excrement and Waste (2015) 299

List of Figures 313

Index 339

Tabula Gratulatoria

Anna Adamska, Utrecht Hervin Fernández-Aceves, Stanko Andrić, Osijek Lancaster Teodora C. Artimon, Budapest Cristian Gașpar, Budapest Ottó S. Gecser, Budapest János M. Bak, Budapest Elena Glushko, Moscow/Kiev Josip Banić & Bojana Borislav Grgin, Zagreb Vasiljević, Poreč Elisabeth Gruber, Irene Barbiera, Padova Salzburg/Krems Irena Benyovsky Latin, Zagreb Vladimir Baranov, Novosibirsk Tea Hlača, Rijeka Baukje van den Berg, Vienna Sylvia Hahn, Salzburg Lijana Birškytė-Klimienė, Barbara Heller-Schuh, Vienna Vilnius Kateřina Horníčková, Krems Dóra Bobory, Zsolt Hunyadi, Szeged Budapest/Wellington Johanna Incze-Tóth & János Günhan Börekçi, Budapest Incze, Budapest Matjaž Bizjak, Ljubljana Julia & Péter Bokody, Emilia Jamroziak, Leeds Plympton Kurt Villads Jensen, Helmut Bräuer, Leipzig Turku/Stockholm Karl Brunner, Klosterneuburg Ivan Jurković, Pula

Zsófia Buda, London Antonín Kalous, Olomouc Fabrizio Conti, Rome Damir Karbić, Zagreb Alice Choyke, Budapest Martha Keil, Sankt Pölten Torben Kjersgaard Nielsen, Magdalena Dębna, Gdańsk Aalborg Nancy van Deusen, Claremont Gábor Klaniczay, Budapest Ekaterina Dikova, Sofia Rossina Kostova, Veliko Csilla Dobos, Budapest Tarnovo Lucie Doležalová, Prague Juhan Kreem, Tallinn Josef Ehmer, Vienna Robert Kurelić, Opatija Finn-Einar Eliassen, Thomas Kühtreiber, Krems Horten/Szentendre Zoran Ladić, Zagreb Etleva Lala, Elbasan

Nikola Langreiter, Lustenau Judith Rasson, Los Angeles József Laszlovszky, Budapest Zsuzsa Reed, Budapest Elena Lemeneva, Ontario Beatrix Romhányi, Budapest Nella Lonza, Dubrovnik Kirsi Salonen, Mária Lupescu Makó & Radu Turku/Stockholm Lupescu, Cluj Emese Sarkadi Nagy, Maria-Christina Lutter, Vienna Esztergom Judit Majorossy, Irina Savinetskaya, New York Budapest/Vienna Felicitas Schmieder, Hagen Michaela Antonín Malaníková, Ülle Sillasoo, Harjumaa Brno Oleksii Smirnov, Kiev Castilia Manea-Grgin, Zagreb Christoph Sonnlechner, Vienna Ana Marinković, Zagreb Käthe Sonnleitner, Graz Anu Mänd, Tallinn Eszter Spät, Budapest Ingrid Matschinegg, Krems Michal Šroněk, Krems Volker Menze, Budapest Karen Stark, Budapest Dóra Mérai, Budapest Gustavs Strenga, Riga/Tallinn Sanja Miljan & Suzana Miljan, Jan Stejskal, Olomouc Zagreb Péter Szabó, Brno/Budapest Marco Mostert, Utrecht Béla Zsolt Szakács, Budapest Else Mundal, Bergen Katalin Szende, Budapest Petra Mutlova, Brno Mădălina Toca, Leuven Balázs Nagy, Budapest Peter Teibenbacher, Graz Christian Neschwara, Vienna Cătălina Maria Veber, Focsani Zrinka Nikolić Jakus, Zagreb Tamás Visi, Olomouc Ferdinand Opll, Vienna Mónica Ann Walker Vadillo, Annabella Pál, Budapest London Tom Pettitt, Odense Herwig Weigl, Vienna James Plumtree, Bishkek Carsten Wilke, Budapest Walter Pohl, Vienna Nada Zečević, London Anneli Randla, Tallinn Daniel Ziemann, Budapest Brigitte Rath, Vienna Andrea-Bianka Znorovszky, Gordan Ravančić, Zagreb Venice

Introduction

Only exceptional people and exceptional teachers receive Festschrifts from their colleagues and disciples for their fortieth birthday. Gerhard Jaritz is the only one of this kind we know. The volume Von Menschen und ihren Zeichen, edited by Ingrid Matschinegg, Brigitte Rath and Barbara Schuh, with the contribution of seven female authors, appeared in 1990. Now, almost thirty years later, when the jubilant is still forty in his spirit and mind, it is high time to come forward with a new festive volume, this time with articles by Gerhard Jaritz himself. Selecting the material for an edited volume from the total crop of 289 publications up to 2017 according to the Regesta Imperii database1 only allows us to show the tip of the iceberg. The eighteen articles offered in this volume comprise just a small fraction of almost ninety articles and edited volumes published in English; we have had to leave aside the greater half of his work, published in German (over 170 articles, monographs, and edited volumes) as well as articles written in or translated into Albanian, Croatian, French, Hungarian, Italian, Polish, Russian, and Spanish. Our intention is to give a cross section of Gerhard Jaritz’s academic profile through his English-language publications from the beginning of his activity as a historian to the present. We hope that although the selection was made without his input as a surprise, he will agree with our choices. The earliest article included, from 1985, represents his initial interest in the Cistercians, the theme of his doctoral dissertation, defended in 1973, “Die Konventualen der Zisterzen Rein, Sittich und Neuberg im Mittelalter.” As he said, answering a question about his academic trajectory after his most recent public lecture at Central European University in Budapest on “Medieval Studies and the Joys and Pains of Interdisciplinarity” on 25 September 2019: “I was not born interdisciplinary. I was born in a medieval Cistercian environment and I still love the Cistercians.” The most recent articles in the selection are on

1 http://opac.regesta-imperii.de/lang_de/suche.php?qs=Gerhard+Jaritz (last access September 30, 2019).

Introduction

“Dogs in Church” and “Excrement and Waste,” published in 2017 and 2015, respectively. Between these end-points one encounters a refreshing variety of topics and approaches to medieval humans, animals, and things, organized in five thematic units: Mentality, Human Behaviour, Emotions; Social Order; Minorities and Marginal Groups; Animals and Other Creatures; and Objects. All these reflect his engagement with the issues of everyday life at its broadest and best. This earned him the device “Medium aevum quotidianum da nobis hodie!” in the Order of the Unicorn, a knightly order established on the tenth anniversary of the Department of Medieval Studies at CEU. Besides his four decades of engagement at the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit (IMAREAL) of the Austrian Academy of Sciences in Krems (at present attached to the University of Salzburg), as well as regular teaching assignments at the University of Graz, his alma mater, in the past more than 25 years CEU has become his main intellectual domicile. We feel proud and lucky to have him as our colleague and teacher here! The reader of these articles, irrespective of knowing Gerhard from before or not, feels personally invited into the workshop of a meticulously creative mind, a profoundly professional historian who at the same time is also always ready to transgress traditional boundaries and conventions. Embodying interdisciplinarity (if not by birth), he utilizes an unparalleled spectrum of sources in his studies. From the written evidence, these include chronicles, sumptuary laws, charters, account books, travelogues, sermons and many other genres of religious and secular literature. These are taken not only from the Late Middle Ages, to which most of his research pertains, but the arc extends from the Church Fathers of Late Antiquity to the treatises of the Early Modern period. The other immense variety of materials comes from all those genres that late medieval visual culture produced, from murals to woodcuts, from panel paintings to graffiti. His attention to detail and ability to find patterns behind a series of individual occurrences have born the richest crops, particularly in the realm of the visual. His methods could hardly be further from the antiquarian collection of curiosities or the dry and descriptive nineteenth-century Kulturgeschichte (see the criticism of such approaches in Chapter 16). By the careful observation of signs and symbols, he establishes rank and status, norm and deviation. When looking at the “quotidian” and repetitive, he calls the reader’s

Introduction attention to the importance of operating with contrasts and comparisons. He opens our eyes and minds to signs, language(s), and message(s) encoded in images, particularly those pertaining to the appearance of the “lower orders” of society: peasants, thieves, the poor, people suffering from mental disorders – in brief, the Other. He sets an example not only when it comes to details (where the beauty is!), but also when he handles serial sources and large amounts of data. For Gerhard, quantifying has never been an end in itself; the quantitative has never overshadowed the qualitative, and humans are never dismissed for the sake of numbers. His scholarly modesty is another of his typical traits. He may have been reinforced in this by his research themes, particularly on the contempt for the sin of pride (superbia), “one of the main deadly sins, often at the head of the list because the first sin committed by mankind to provoke the wrath of God,” as he explains in the study on ira Dei (Chapter 2). The prime way of expressing his selfless concern has been his intense involvement in editorial work. His editorial acumen developed at the Krems Institute, where he efficiently brought out the contributions to the conferences on various aspects of material culture year after year. He was the life and soul of the 71 fascicles of the periodical Medium Aevum Quotidianum, plus 33 special thematic volumes (Sonderbände), published over 34 years (1982–2016) and distributed to the members of the same association.2 Some of these volumes are also part of the CEU Medievalia series, where he edited or co-edited seven volumes, more than one-third of the 18 volumes published so far.3 He is also the series editor of Brepols’s Studies in the History of Daily Life (800– 1600) and Trivent’s History and Art series, where the present volume also appears. To these services as editor one needs to add his active involvement in organizing workshops, sessions, and conferences. The annual medievalist meetings in both Leeds and Kalamazoo, where he has long been a member of the programming committees, would not have been the same without his incentives, particularly for all the CEU students and alumnae whom he strongly encouraged to participate. Between 2008 and 2016, for two terms, he was also president of CARMEN, an international association of medievalists.4

2 http://www.imareal.sbg.ac.at/maq/Verzeichnis.html (last access October 1, 2019). 3 https://medievalstudies.ceu.edu/ceu-medievalia (last access October 1, 2019). 4 http://www.carmen-medieval.net/ (last access October 1, 2019).

Introduction

Gerhard’s scholarly output goes well beyond the scope of publications and service to the academic community, however. His role as a professor serves equally as a means of sharing his research results and profound knowledge. In his article on “Images and the Power of the Spoken Word” (Chapter 3) he writes that on medieval visual depictions “the spoken text might have been explaining, contextualizing, signifying, mediating, inviting, stimulating, or emotionalizing” – and this is exactly what his lectures, seminars, and tutorial consultations are all about. The more than twenty PhD dissertations and dozens of MA theses defended at CEU under his guidance and supervision are just as much part of his intellectual impact as his articles. The authors of these works, most of them present in this volume on the Tabula gratulatoria, carry on his intellectual curiosity and the awareness of patterns and contexts. The editors wish to express their special thanks to all those who offered indispensable help in making the publication of this book possible. We are grateful to the publishers of the volumes and journals where the articles were originally published for giving permission to publish them again in the present volume. The texts of the articles are rendered in their original form except for any typographical errors or other formal mistakes, which have been corrected without further notice; the system of references has been standardized. The URLs have also been checked and updated, or in the cases of broken links, removed. We owe gratitude to the institutions holding the copyrights of the images which are included in the articles for their permissions to reproduce these materials. The captions of the images have also been standardized and partially reformulated to better serve the coherence of the volume. In a few cases (e.g., the woodcuts), we used a different copy or a different edition (such as newly published facsimile editions) from the work cited by Gerhard in the original article. The greatest thanks are due to the photo archive and image collection of the Institut für Realienkunde in Krems, which has been the greatest single resource for Gerhard’s image-based research. That all the images in this volume are reproduced in colour instead of the original black and white – an indispensable improvement since colour is so often a major part of an argument – is due to the generous help and digitizing work of the photographer Peter Böttcher. Represented by Gerhard’s former colleagues in Krems, Ingrid Matschinegg, Elisabeth Gruber, and Thomas Kühtreiber, IMAREAL has offered a substantial contribution to the

Introduction success of this anniversary publication by assisting the editors with the illustrations. At the joint Medieval Library of Central European University and Eötvös Loránd University, Budapest, the librarians Ildikó Csepregi and Ágnes Havasi as well as the library curator, Balázs Nagy, have offered tireless assistance in providing the original publications of the articles. We are also greatly indebted to Josip Banić for contacting the signatories of the Tabula gratulatoria, to Sanja Miljan for preparing the index, to Judith Rasson for improving the fluency of the Introduction and to Brigitte Rath for providing us with a safe hinterland. When we congratulate Gerhard on his even-numbered (“round”) anniversary and wish him many more active and creative years “bis hundert und zwanzig,” we also wish to express our gratitude to him for the unmistakable honey-and-garlic taste of so many medieval dinners that we prepared and/or consumed under his direction, and for all the other forms of inspiration and encouragement that he offered to all of us! We learned from you that the best justification for doing research on a theme is that it brings intellectual delight, or as you said at the public lecture noted above a few weeks ago with your characteristic half-smile: “Sometimes one likes that it is fun!”

Budapest, October 2019

The Editors

VII

Mentality, Human Behaviour, Emotions

- 1 -

Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages*

The Order of the Cistercians and the phenomenon of migration are connected in many ways and under various aspects: mother-abbeys send new communities to regions often far away, abbots make annual journeys to General Chapters, and father-abbots visit their affiliated monasteries; even the laybrothers’ trek to granges where they worked may be seen as an example of, though usually very regional, migration. The migration this paper wants to deal with is of still another kind. A problem for the Order from its beginnings seem to have been the monachi vagantes, members of cistercian communities, who – for some reason, left their monastery, travelled through the secular world, joined or wanted to join another community of the Order or even intended to stay in the world. Statutes of the General Chapters sometimes refer to the Rule of Saint Benedict and call them gyrovagi,1 who ‘spend their whole lives wandering from province to province, staying three days in one monastery and four in another, ever roaming and never ‘stable.’2 From the twelfth century until modern times Cistercian documents demonstrate the difficulties and problems inherent in their occurence.3

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages” in Goad and Nail. Studies in Medieval Cistercian History, ed. E. Rozanne Elder (Collegeville: Cistercian Publications, 1985), 191-200. 1 See, for instance, Josephus-Maria Canivez, Statuta Capitulorum Generalium Ordinis Cisterciensis I (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1933) 130 (1190: 60); IV (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1936) 371 (1432: 9), 372 (1432: 11). 2 Regula Benedicti, cap. II. 3 Cf. Otto Grillnberger, “Kleinere Forschungen zur Geschichte des Cistercienser-Ordens,” Studien und Mittheilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 16 (1895), 600-3.

Gerhard Jaritz

Two examples may be given. At about 1150 the abbot of Ebrach (Franconia) sent a letter to the abbot of Sittichenbach (Thuringia) complaining about one of his monks who had left the community without permission and gone to Sittichenbach.4 He asked the abbot there to send the monk back to prevent further harm. More than five hundred years later, in 1693, another abbot of Ebrach wrote to the abbot of his daughter-house Rein (Styria) and dealt with scandals which migrating monks had provoked in the past and still provoked in his day.5 We may ask ourselves, therefore, whether we are here confronted with a situation which had not changed much over the centuries of Cistercian history. Looking at the statutes of medieval General Chapters which refer to monachi vagantes and the problems evoked by them, we can discern at first sight that developments and changes must have taken place. In the number of statutes referring to our topic we already find remarkable differences. Until the end of the fourteenth century and again from the beginning of the sixteenth century onwards we occasionally come across statutes condemning migrations of monks into the secular world. Their number, however, is low. The problem seems to have existed, but not to have been of remarkable importance. Sometimes there is a concentration of cases of individual monks dealt with by the General Chapter. We find, for instance, five cases in the first half of the thirteenth century and three cases in the thirties of the fourteenth century.6 Statutes on migration issued for the entire Order are almost entirely missing.7 If we look at the fifteenth century, we find a situation almost completely different. Already in the first half of this century we find, on one hand, a number of statutes on monachi vagantes concerning the entire Order, and, on the other hand, increased dealings in cases of individual monks.8 The latter are almost always dealt with in the same way: a monk

4 Werner Ohnsorge, “Eine Ebracher Briefsammlung des XII. Jahrhunderts,” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 20 (1928/29), 37- 8, n. XI. 5 1693 June 4, Nuremberg: Rein archives, Hs. 137/11, n. 214. 6 Canivez, Statuta I, 325 (1206: 30), 374-5 (1210: 374), 445 (1215: 49), 511 (1219: 40); 11 (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1934), 49-50 (1226: 12); III (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1935), 443-4 (1336: 9), 446 (1337: 5), 452 (1338: 9). 7 See, for instance, Canivez, Statuta I, 90 (1182: 90); III, 445-6 (1337: 4), 509 (1348: 3). 8 General statutes for the Order: Canivez, Statuta IV, 34-5 (1402: 14), 249 (1422:

4 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages had left his community – often without being authorized – and had provoked ‘scandals’ in other monasteries or in the world. The Chapter ordered him to be sent back to the monastery where he had made profession and the abbot there was advised to deal with his case.9 An even more decisive change in the number of statutes regarding migrating monks can be proven after 1450. Especially from the fourteen-fifties to the seventies almost each of the General Chapters makes mention of the problem of monks roaming through the world.10 It is continuously repeated that only really serious reason might allow to send a monk to another monastery.11 Disputes inside communities should not be solved by dismissing the monks who had picked the quarrel.12 If a monk was sent to another community for good reason and could not be kept there, he should only be sent back to the monastery from which he came and not on to yet a third community.13 Other examples could be given; the statutes often go into great detail. In the same way, the number of individual cases of monks dealt with by General Chapters increased in the second half of the fifteenth century.14

26), 337 (1429: 70), 371-2 (1432: 9). Statutes concerning individual monks and monasteries or certain regions: Canivez, Statuta IV, 298 (1425: 72), 311 (1427: 11), 339 (1429: 75), 353 (1430: 58), 372 (1432: 11), 507 (1441: 36), 519 (1442: 35). 9 It must be stressed, though, that the term ‘scandal’ is used in a wider sense in the statutes than we use it today; often rather mild cases are called ‘scandalous’ so we may not automatically assume a very severe offence. 10 General statutes: Canivez, Statuta IV, 672 (1452: 103); V (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1937), 9 (1457: 48), 55 (1460: 34), 101 (1461: 148), 112 (1462: 58), 119 (1462: 101, 250 (1469: 56), 289 (1471: 42), 302-3 (1472: 20), 373-5 (1478: 31), 568-9 (1487: 8). 11 See, for instance, Canivez, Statuta V, 112 (1462: 58). 12 See, for instance, Canivez, Statuta V, 302 (1472: 20). 13 See, for instance, Canivez, Statuta V, 9 (1457: 48), 119 (1462: 101), 568-9 (1487: 8). 14 Statutes concerning individual monks and monasteries or certain regions: Canivez, Statuta IV, 635 (1450: 47), 646 (1451: 28), 655 (1451: 75), 691 (1453: 88); V, 9 (1457: 49), 12 (1457: 61), 58 (1460: 48), 65 (1460: 82), 90 (1461: 84), 92 (1461: 99), 100 (1461: 144), 102 (1461: 102), 119 (1462: 102), 133 (1463: 44), 179-80 (1466: 14), 214 (1467: 39), 252 (1469: 65), 323 (1473: 30), 367 (1478: 11), 458 (1483: 22), 477-8 (1484: 28), 614 (1487: 89), 616 (1487: 98); VI (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1938), 133-4 (1496: 16), 142-3 (1496: 35), 211 (1499: 24).

5 Gerhard Jaritz

We might, therefore, ask whether this extraordinary fifteenth-century situation might be taken as a culminating point in the decline of Cistercian monastic stability or even in monastic life as a whole. Does it reveal a low in obedience to the General Chapter, which year by year was repeating its claims and statutes, and not being heard or followed by many Cistercian monks and communities? Without any further reflection on our problem we could be tempted to accept this hypothesis. Given the one-sidedness of the information we have at our disposal when looking only at statutes, we would do well to retain a bit of scepticism. Another group of sources widens the view and offers possibilities for comparison: the letters of recommendation which were given to monks by the abbots of the monasteries they had left. In our research we have concentrated on those letters which have survived from Austrian Cistercian communities of the Late Middle Ages. There we come across not only individual letters, but also formularies which contain whole collections of such letters and offer a much wider view of the problem of migrating monks. Their contents go far beyond the Austrian territories and make it possible to interpret the situation on an ‘international’ basis. Formularies of this kind have survived from the monasteries of Lilienfeld (Lower Austria), Wilhering (Upper Austria) and Neuberg (Styria).15 They contain letters mainly from the fifteenth century and a few from the fourteenth century. The structure of the letters is quite similar. Each contains information on migrating monks’ going to or coming from one, two, three, or

15 See Valentin Schmidt, “Ein Lilienfelder Formelbuch,” Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 28 (1907), 392-407, 577-96; Johannes Hurch, “Aus einem Wilheringer Formelbuche,” Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 11 (1890), 104-14, 275-89; Otto Grillnberger, “Kleinere Quellen und Forschungen zur Geschichte des Cistercienser-Ordens,” Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 16 (1895), 599-610; Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 17 (1896), 41-59, 256-69, 437-43; Otto Grillnberger, “Das Wilheringer Formelbuch “De kartis visitacionum,” Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 19 (1898), 587-601; Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 20 (1899), 127-37, 482- 95; Studien und Mitteilungen aus dem Benedictiner- und dem Cistercienser-Orden 21 (1900), 119-27, 384-92; Gerhard Jaritz, “Die Konventualen der Zisterzen Rein, Sittich und Neuberg im Mittelalter,” Phil. Diss. (Graz, 1973), 1: 109-22.

6 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages sometimes even more, monasteries of the Order. A typical formula is: The abbot of A sends a monk of B, who came to him from the monastery of C to the community of D and asks the abbot to keep the monk there. Two examples may be given: In 1439 Abbot Stephan of Lilienfeld informed Abbot Paul of Neuberg that brother Augustin, a monk of Heinrichau (Henrików/Silesia), whose monastery had been devastated by the Hussites, had been sent to him by the abbot of Baumgartenberg (Upper Austria) who was unable to keep him. For serious reasons – here we see the influence of the General Chapter – Lilienfeld also cannot keep Augustin. The abbot of Neuberg is, therefore, asked to allow the Silesian monk to join his community (see Fig. 1.1).16 The second example may show how long monks sometimes ‘roamed’ through the world, in this certain case obviously not by his own choice. Between 1470 and 1474 the monk Walthasar of Wilhering was sent to Fürstenzell (Bavaria) because the heavy damages his monastery had suffered forced a large part of the community to leave. From Fürstenzell he had to go to Aldersbach (Bavaria); from there – because too many people were living in the monastery – he went back to Wilhering (Upper Austria). In 1477, he had to leave the community again, travelled to Raitenhaslach (Bavaria) and from there to Ebrach, the mother-house of Wilhering. In agreement with the statutes of the General Chapter he was once more sent back to Wilhering. Two weeks later’ the Abbot of Ebrach, on his way to visit his Styrian filiation Rein, met Walthasar, who obviously also wanted to go to Rein, in the small town of Rottenmann in Upper Styria. Once again forced to return to Wilhering, Walthasar had to leave yet another time in 1480, when he went to Heiligenkreuz, caused trouble in the community there and was sent back to Wilhering. One month later he was on his way again, this time to Lilienfeld (Lower Austria) and, because Lilienfeld had too many guests and the Turks were threatening the area, further on to the Lower Austrian monastery of Säusenstein (see Fig. 1.2). There we lose track of him.17

16 1439 September 14, Lilienfeld: Jaritz, “Die Konventualen,” 1: 119. 17 (1470-74, Wilhering): Grillnberger, “Kleinere Quellen,” 262, n. 129; (1470-76, Aldersbach): ibidem, 41, n. 29; 1477 April 13, Ebrach: ibidem, 47, n. 59; 1477 May 1, Rottenmann: ibidem, 46, n. 55, 56; 1480 July 2, Heiligenkreuz: ibidem, 604, n. 2, 3; 1480 July-August, Lilienfeld: ibidem, 42, n. 35. See also ibidem, 601.

7 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 1.1. The example of the migrating monk Augustin of Heinrichau, 1439 (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.2. The example of the migrating monk Walthasar of Wilhering, 1470–1480 (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

8 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages

The formularies and some individual documents yield about two hundred such letters, most from the fifteenth, a few from the fourteenth century, which contain information on migration. They show that migrating did indeed play a decisive role’ in the history of the Order in the fifteenth century and that the statutes of the General Chapter against it were not successful. The letters in the formularies can be proven to be mainly copies of actual letters and not fictional, as these in other surviving formularies sometimes are.18 A relatively large number of documents of the same or similar structure allows us to look for more general results reaching beyond the information we would be able to deduce from single letters or could get from the statutes of the General Chapter. Especially questions concerning the reasons, and distances and the directions of migrations and the changes of these components may be answered. Reasons for the migrations of monks, for their dismissal, for ‘sending them away or further on are mentioned in about a hundred cases: some ten percent concern disputes within a community; another ten percent the high number of persons or guests living in a monastery; ten percent bad harvests or other economic reasons; about ten percent ‘serious’ reasons not detailed; another ten percent the wish of the monks themselves; five percent refer to business for the monastery. The remaining reasons, which cover a bit less than half the cases mentioned, concern devastations of monasteries by fire or other natural forces and/or serious troubles caused by some kind of war, by fighting parties of the aristocracy, the Turks, or the Hussites. The ravages of the Hussite wars accounted for about a third of the reasons given in the letters at our disposal. From the 1420s until far into the second half of the fifteenth century they played the decisive role in motivating monks to leave monasteries, where they had been professed. Communities from as far north as Pelplin (south of Danzig), as far south as Baumgartenberg (Upper Austria), and as far west as Langheim (Franconia) were directly affected,19 not to mention the insecurities indirectly evolving at many other monasteries.20

18 Cf. Grillnberger, “Kleinere Quellen,” 600. 19 For the problems of Cistercian monasteries caused by the Hussites, see Valentin Schmidt, “Zur Leidensgeschichte der Cistercienser in den Hussitenkriegen,” Cistercienser-Chronik 20 (1908), 129-35, 170-5, 205-8. 20 We need only think of monks from different communities coming to one

9 Gerhard Jaritz

Interpreting the reasons for migrations, we can see that they generally result only to a slight degree from situations within the communities (as disputes), something we might have expected from the information given by the statutes. The major motives came from outside, that is, from the secular world, and were obviously often destructive not only of a flourishing material culture, but also of an acceptable monastic life. We may assume that in the main disobedience and neglect were not the reasons for not observing the statutes of General Chapter, but that the material and economic means of living the monastic life were lacking, having been lost through influences from outside. That ‘scandals’ – as the General Chapter puts it ever and again – inevitably arose when whole communities were dispersed into an insecure world to look for other monastic communities to live in, seems quite obvious. And the effect of more or less sudden descent of numerous guests on life in the abbeys they came to must also be recognized. If we look, for example, at the letters of recommendation concerning migrations to the abbey of Neuberg in Upper Styria which have survived, particularly from the 1430s to the 1450s, we observe that the origin of monks coming to them are concentrated in the North (and Northwest) (see Fig. 1.3).21 They often travelled to the Danube valley and along the river usually trying to join an easily accessible nearby community. Refusal by monasteries in or around the Danube valley seems to have forced them to go further south to an Upper Styrian abbey much more off the beaten track. The Neuberg situation may be assumed to be typical of the regions we are dealing with. It shows that monks were migrating mainly south from areas like Poland, Silesia, Bohemia, Moravia, even parts of Brandenburg, Franconia, and Upper Bavaria. The reasons they left their communities were particularly war, the complete or partial devastation of their monasteries or lands, especially by the Hussites, and therefore insecure political and economic conditions. The southern route of many monastery, each of them certainly used to a different way of monastic life, to realize that problems could occur. 21 The basis for figure 3 are the letters listed by Jaritz, “Die Konventualen,” 109- 22 (see note 15). The monasteries marked in figures 3, 4 and 6 show communities, from which monks originated and/or which they touched on their way to Neuberg (Wilhering, Lilienfeld). For reasons of clarity, we make no distinction between monasteries where monks had professed and those at which they stayed only intermediately during their migrations.

10 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages monks led to an overcrowding of the Austrian abbeys along the Danube, which were then forced to accept no more guests or even faced with no other alternative than that of sending their own monks away.

Fig. 1.3. Monks migrating to Neuberg, mainly in the first half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

These problems could be increased by difficulties within the Austrian abbeys themselves. Between 1410 and 1412 Lilienfeld was struck by fire, destruction, and plundering; the community had to leave the abbey for a time.22 In 1473, Wilhering was involved in controversies between Austria and Bohemia which again became the motive for monks to be sent away.23

22 For effects on migrations, see Schmidt, “Ein Lilienfelder Formelbuch,” 583- 4, n. 129-30, 136. 23 Therefore, in the 1470s a large number of monks left the monastery; see Grillnberger, “Kleinere Quellen,” passim. For an explicit reference to the effect on migrations, see ibidem, 43-4. See also above the mentioned case of the monk Walthasar of Wilhering.

11 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 1.4. Monks migrating to Wilhering, mainly in the second half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.5. Monks migrating away from Wilhering, mainly in the second half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

12 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 1.6. Monks migrating to Lilienfeld, fourteenth–fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.7. Monks migrating away from Lilienfeld, fourteenth-fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

13 Gerhard Jaritz

Comparing the Neuberg results with the situation we find in the sources of Wilhering, and concentrating more on the second half of the fifteenth century, we can, with some exceptions, recognize similar trends:24 a North-South movement, though not as pronounced as in the case of Neuberg; a concentration on the Danube valley; and, especially relevant, a very strong connection with Ebrach, Wilhering’s mother-house (see Fig. 1.4). The documentation on monks leaving Wilhering in the same period again shows a concentration on the Danube valley and the mother-abbey Ebrach, but an easily explainable trend towards the south. Almost nobody migrated to the insecurities of the North (see Fig. 1.5). The same phenomenon can be demonstrated by the sources of Lilienfeld (see Fig. 1.6 and Fig. 1.7).25 Therefore, we have to emphasize not only that the main reasons for migrations to the areas we have dealt with were serious incidents hitting the communities from outside, but also that the direction of Cistercian migrations seem, consequently, to have followed quite explicit principles. The migration of late medieval Cistercian monks was no uncertain roaming through the world, but a planned and organized move comparable to the migrations of travelling artisans, for whom we could cite similar trends.26 Relative to the number of monasteries in certain areas forced to send away monks at one time, the distances covered seem to change.

24 The basis for figure 4 and 5 are the letters listed by Hurch, “Aus einem Wilheringer Formelbuche” and by Grillnberger, “Kleinere Quellen” and “Das Wilheringer Formelbuch” (see note 15). 25 The basis for figures 6 and 7 are the letters listed by Schmidt, “Ein Lilienfelder Formelbuch” (see note 15). Figures 5 and 7 demonstrate destinations and/or intermediate stations of monks who had left Wilhering or Lilienfeld. We have not distinguished between final destination and intermediate stations. Ciphers in connection with monasteries refer to the number of monks coming from or to there (directly: as well as after/before intermediate stations). In the case of Lilienfeld (figures 6 and 7) we have not used numbers because of the relatively few surviving examples. The contents of some letters in the formularies which seemed obviously fictions and some others where diverse doubts arose have not been marked in the figures. 26 See, for instance, Gerhard Jaritz, “Gesellenwanderung in Niederösterreich im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Tullner “Schuhknechte”,” Internationales Handwerksgeschichtliches Symposium, Veszprém 20.- 24.11.1978 (Veszprém: Veszprémi Akadémiai Bizottság, 1979), 50-61.

14 Cistercian Migrations in the Late Middle Ages

Particularly in the period of the Hussite wars we come across monks who certainly travelled for more than a thousand miles through Europe. In more quiet times there seems to have been more regional migration between neighbouring communities. But even when the migrations covered very long distances, some parts of Europe remained completely or nearly untouched by monks from the areas we have been considering; this is particularly true of Italy, France, and of course far away regions like Spain, England, or Scandinavia. Because of the political situation, the late medieval process of territorialisation and already perhaps language problems, the monks stayed more or less within the German-speaking parts of the Empire. This cannot, of course, mean that migrations of Cistercian monks in Italy, France or England were less common than in the areas we have dealt with. What further research should concentrate on, therefore, is the investigation of Cistercian migrations in other parts of Europe and especially the differences of reasons, directions, and distances between those areas and Austria and Germany.

- 2 -

Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages: Evidence from German-speaking Europe*

In the German-speaking areas of the late Middle Ages, including Central, South and Southwest Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, discourse about material culture and behavior was sometimes extraordinarily rich. This is particularly true for all phenomena within the public sphere of life, especially those concerning outer appearance: dress, housing, festivities, food and meals taken outside the private house, and so on. In chronicles, laws, charters, travel literature, religious and secular literature, sermons, and in other forms, the discussion could become detailed and heated. The sources often deal with exceptional and special cases that had to be positively evaluated, or, more often, criticized, made fun of, condemned or prohibited. Sermons and sumptuary laws played an important role in this discourse.1 For German-speaking areas of Europe, urban sumptuary laws from the fourteenth, fifteenth, and the beginning of the sixteenth century

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages: Evidence from German-speaking Regions,” Essays in Medieval Studies 18 (2002), 53-66. 1 Concerning late medieval sumptuary laws, see, e.g., Frances Elizabeth Baldwin, Sumptuary Legislation and Personal Regulation in England (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1926); Ronald E. Rainey, “Sumptuary legislation in Renaissance Florence,” Doctoral Diss., Columbia University, 1985; James A. Brundage, “Sumptuary Legislation and Prostitution in Late Medieval Italy,” Journal of Medieval History 13 (1987), 343-56; C. M. Kovesi Killerby, “Italian sumptuary legislation, 1200-1500,” Diss., University of Oxford, 1991; Johanna B. Moyer, “Sumptuary law in Ancien Régime France, 1229-1806,” Diss., Syracuse University, 1996; Alan Hunt, Governance of the consuming passions: a history of sumptuary law (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1996).

Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages are numerous.2 During this period, about 600 surviving sumptuary laws were enacted by the urban or territorial authorities of the German Empire. They represented an important means of policing everyday life and its public material culture and generally sought to preserve the stability of the social system, sometimes with mixed results. One factor in this discourse was status. Dress, housing, and patterns of consumption were used to make people aware of the God-given differences between humans. Broader economic, religious, and moral criteria, as well as aspects of the well-known laudatio temporis acti (praise of former times), also influenced this discourse. Sumptuary legislation was used to promote the gemeinen Nutzen, ‘common weal,’ of late medieval and early modern society. In this context the sin of superbia, including pride and haughtiness, was identified as an obstacle to common weal which had to be fought against. Pride was of course one of the main deadly sins, often at the head of the list because the first sin committed by mankind to provoke the wrath of God (Ira Dei).

2 See Kent Roberts Greenfield, Sumptuary Law in Nürnberg: A Study in Paternal Government (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1918); Gertraud Hampel, Beitrag zur Geschichte der Kleiderordnungen mit besonderer Berücksichtigung Österreichs (Vienna: H. Geyer, 1962); Liselotte-Constanze Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen der deutschen Städte zwischen 1350 und 1700, Göttinger Bausteine zur Geschichtswissenschaft 32 (Göttingen, Berlin and Frankfurt am Main, 1962); Veronika Bauer, Kleiderordnungen in Bayern vom 14. bis zum 19. Jahrhundert, Miscellanea Bavarica Monacensia 62 (Munich, 1975); Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer und territorialer Kleider-, Aufwands- und Luxusgesetzgebung in Deutschland (13. bis Mitte 16. Jahrhundert),” in Renaissance du pouvoir législatif et genèse de l’État, eds. André Gouron and Albert Rigaudière, Publications de la Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, 3 (Montpellier: Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, 1988), 29-57; Neithard Bulst, “Feste und Feiern unter Auflagen. Mittelalterliche Tauf-, Hochzeits- und Begräbnisordnungen in Deutschland und Frankreich,” in Feste und Feiern im Mittelalter, ed. Detlef Altenburg et al. (Sigmaringen, 1991), 39-54; Jutta Zander- Seidel, “Kleidergesetzgebung und städtische Ordnung, Inhalte, Überwachung und Akzeptanz frühneuzeitlicher Kleiderordnungen,” Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1993), 176-88; Gerhard Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige- Konkurrenz. Unterschiedliche Identitäten in der städtischen Gesellschaft unter Normierungszwängen,” Saeculum 44 (1993), 8-31.

17 Gerhard Jaritz

The connection of Ira Dei to superbia was a deep-seated element of Christian thought. Saint Bridget of Sweden (1303-1373) stated in her Revelaciones about Adam: “Ira Dei super eum venit pro superbia, qua in sua felicitate Deum offenderat” (‘The wrath of God came upon him because of his pride, through which, with his high spirits, he had offended the Lord’).3 The thirteenth-century preacher Berthold of Regensburg (1220-1272) referred to the deadly sins as awaking God’s wrath and punishment.4 These references could of course be multiplied for both the early and late Middle Ages and for virtually all Christian lands. Consequently I do not wish to deal with the philosophical and theological discussion surrounding the wrath of God, something we find as early as late Antiquity, for example in De Ira Dei by the Christian apologist Lucius Caecilius Firmianus Lactantius, one of the most reprinted of the Latin Church Fathers (AD 260-c.340). “God has authority,” Lucius wrote; “therefore also He must have anger, in which authority consists.”5 It should be emphasized that, following Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225 or 1227-1274), wrath need not be understood as the excitement of God or as the disturbance of his inner peace. Rather, wrath was understood as his efficacy in making sinners feel that they had become separated from his will and were therefore to be punished.6

3 Book XI: Sermo Angelicus, chapter 7. Sancta Birgitta, Opera Minora II: Sermo Angelicvs (Revelationes XI), ed. Sten Eklund (Uppsala, 1972); text available at http://www.umilta.net/bk.html. 4 Berthold von Regensburg. Vollständige Ausgabe seiner deutschen Predigten, 1, ed. Franz Pfeiffer and Joseph Strobl (1862, reprint Berlin, 1965), 557; see also Ernst Wolfgang Keil, Deutsche Sitte und Sittlichkeit im 13. Jahrhundert nach den damaligen deutschen Predigten (Dresden, 1931), 47. 5 Lactantius: The Minor Works, trans. by Mary Francis McDonald, Fathers of the Church, 54 (Washington, 1965); Lactantius, The Anger of God, text available at (http://newadvent.org/fathers/0703.htm); Lactance, La colère de Dieu, ed. and transl. Christiane Ingremeau, Sources chrétiennes 289 (Paris, 1982). See also Giovanni Runchina, “Polemica filosofica e dottrinale nel De Ira Dei di Lattancio,” Annale della Facoltà di Lettere, Philosofia, e Magistero della Università di Cagliari 6 (1985), 159-81. 6 F.J.A. de Grijs, “Thomas Aquinas on ira as a Divine Metaphor,” in ‘Tibi soli peccavi’. Thomas Aquinas on Guilt and Forgiveness, ed. Henk J. M. Schoot (Publications of the Thomas Instituut te Utrecht, N.S. III) (Utrecht and Leuven: Peeters, 1996), 19-46.

18 Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 2.1. The good and the bad prayer: superbia versus piety Christ crucified; Bavarian master, single leaf coloured woodcut preserved in a manuscript (Nicolaus de Dinkelspuhel: Sermones xviii de sanctis) from the Augustinian monastery of Ranshofen, Upper Austria, 1430–1460 (München, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, BSB Clm. 12714, glued to the back of the binding cover; © BSB, photo: daten.digitale- sammlungen.de/bsb00112123/image-2)

Naturally, superbia was to a large extent connected with the material aspects of human life. One didactic and moralizing tradition treating the sin is the so-called “Good and Bad Thoughts” or the “Good and Bad Prayer,” a theme also regularly expressed in visually contrasting images, mainly in the fifteenth century.7 In a mid-fifteenth-century German

7 See Robert Wildhaber, “Das gute und das schlechte Gebet,” in Europäische Kulturverflechtungen im Bereich der volkstümlichen Überlieferung. Festschrift für Bruno Schier zum 65. Geburtstag, eds. Gerhard Heilfurth and Hinrich Siuts, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Mitteleuropäische Volksforschung 5 (Göttingen: Schwartz, 1967), 63-72; Robert Wildhaber, “Gebet, gutes und schlechtes,” in Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie 2 (Rome et al., 1970), coll. 82- 84; Nils-Arvid Bringéus, Volkstümliche Bilderkunde (Munich: Callwey, 1982),

19 Gerhard Jaritz woodcut, for instance, the good and pious man concentrates on the Passion of Christ in his thoughts and prayers. The haughty man only reflects on his riches – his house, horse, food, dress, and so on, forgetting about the suffering Lord (Fig. 2.1).8 For a haughty woman, seen in a panel painting from c. 1430, probably Austrian, only worldly treasures count; she ignores the spiritual aspects of life completely (Fig. 2.2).9 Such behavior provoked God’s wrath and led to punishment. This tradition can be found as early as the Old Testament. One may think of Isaiah and his description of the daughters of Zion:

Moreover the Lord saith, because the daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet: therefore the Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the daughters of Zion, and the Lord will discover their secret parts. In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their feet, and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the earrings, the rings, and nose jewels, the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping pins, the glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods, and the veils. And it shall come to pass, that instead of sweet smell there shall be stink; and instead of a girdle a rent; and instead of well set hair baldness; and instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth; and burning instead of beauty. Thy men shall fall by the sword, and thy mighty in the war. (Isaiah 3:16-25, KJV)

Likewise late medieval religious discourse connected pride, material superfluity, and deviations in public outer appearance with the punishing wrath of God.

25-7. See, for general points, Gerhard Jaritz, “Das Bild des ‘Negativen’ als Visualisierung der Übertretung von Ordnungen im Spätmittelalter,” Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1993) 205-13. 8 See Bringéus, Volkstümliche Bilderkunde, 25. 9 Today in the Esztergom Keresztény Múzeum. Cf. Pál Cséfalvay (ed.), Christliches Museum Esztergom (Budapest: Corvina, 1993), 188-9, n. 23 and ill. 23.

20 Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 2.2. The bad thoughts concentrating on the riches of this world Evagationes Spiritus (The erring of the soul); Austrian master (?), panel painting, tempera on wood, 1430s (Esztergom, Keresztény Múzeum, Inv. no. 56.495; © Keresztény Múzeum, photo: © Attila Mudrák, 2018)

It was not, however, only in the religious sphere that such arguments were made. Secular authorities also constructed God’s wrath in the context of phenomena that were connected with superbia and tried to show that the sin endangered the social, economic, and moral stability of the system. In Central, South and Southwest Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, secular authorities, mainly the town councils, adopted religious discourse in their sumptuary laws. These laws were particularly

21 Gerhard Jaritz concerned with trying to regulate dress, which was the most ostentatious medium for showing off, for representing oneself, and for making visual differences in status and social order in the system. “Kleider machen Leute,” the saying goes, ‘Clothes make the man.’10 The introduction to the dress regulations of Speyer from 1356, for instance, use the stereotype that haughtiness was the first of all sins ever committed and was therefore the root of all other sins. Because pride annoyed God, it brought harm to people.11 In Ulm a sumptuary law was enacted in the year 1420 to counteract haughtiness and, thereby, to seek escape from the punishment of God, “armen und richen ze nutze,” ‘For the weal of the rich and the poor.’12 The construction and use of the Ira Dei by urban authorities of the fourteenth and fifteenth century emphasized that his wrath was provoked by superbia, and especially by the use of certain illegitimate and criticized kinds of dress. We often find the wrath of God invoked as a response to the wearing of fashionable or new types of clothes. A rather well known general example is that from a Nuremberg law of the second half of the fifteenth century. Its introduction says:

As the almighty God since the beginning, not only on earth but also in heaven and in paradise, has hated the vice of pride and wantonness, and has punished them heavily, and as pride and disobedience have been the reason that a number of counties and communities perished, therefore […] we give the following law to praise the Lord, to promote common profit and to honor the city of Nuremberg.13

10 Thesaurus Proverborum Medii Aevi. Lexikon der Sprichwörter des romanischgermanishen Mittelalter, Kuratorium Singer der Schweizerischen Akademic der Geistes- und Socialwissenschaften 7 (Berlin and New York: de Gruyer, 1998), 65. 11 Franz Joseph Mone, “Sittenpolizei zu Speier, Strassburg und Konstanz im 14. und 15. Jahrhundert,” Zeitschrift für die Geschichte des Oberrheins 7 (1856), 58; cf. Ulrike Lehmann-Langholz, Kleiderkritik in mittelalterlicher Dichtung. Der Arme Hartmann, Heinrich ‘von Melk’, Neidhart, Wernher der Gartenaere und ein Ausblick auf die Stellungnahmen spätmittelalterlicher Dichter, Europäische Hochschulschriften I/885 (Frankfurt am Main, Bern, and New York: Peter Lang, 1985), 294-7. 12 Das rote Buch der Stadt Ulm, ed. Carl Mollwo (Stuttgart: Württembergische Geschichtsquellen, 1905), 216; Bulst, “Zum Problem,” 43. 13 Nürnberger Polizeiordnungen aus dem XIII. bis XV. Jahrhundert, ed. Joseph Baader, (Stuttgart: Litterarischer Verein, 1861; reprint Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1966), 95.

22 Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages

This law was then regulation against certain kinds of dress. Mentioned specifically are silk clothes for women, the wearing of certain kinds of fur, expensive female headgear, ostentatious decolletage, and others. In 1479, the dukes Ernst and Albrecht of Saxonia asked the town council of Leipzig to keep the sumptuary laws – again mainly dress regulations – well and rigorously: so that God’s wrath might not be provoked by wicked pride that could result in the denial of his grace and in severe punishment.14 A Strassburg dress regulation from 1493 connected the reaction of God with individual objects of clothing in the urban community. It prohibited the very short men’s dress that was worn without fear of God.15 Dress regulations could also be imposed as a way to ward off the anger of God aroused by offenses not related to pride or haughtiness. In 1464, for example, two monstrances containing the Eucharist and Holy Oil were stolen from the minster of Bern in Switzerland. To honor and to praise the Lord, to soften his wrath and regain his mercy, the town council proclaimed dress regulations that explicitly prohibited pointed shoes, short tunics for men, and long trains for women.16 Pointed shoes were a particularly vain object that could provoke God’s wrath. In the Bohemian chronicle of Benesch of Weitmil, about 1372, we read that a young noble couple wore such shoes. God sent down a streak of lightning that cut off the points of their shoes.17 Some authorities made the general argument that such shoes should be prohibited for everyone, as they were in the 1464 dress regulations from Bern for the territory of the city. Though it was not the case that pointed

14 Urkundenbuch der Stadt Leipzig, ed. Karl Friedrich von Posern-Klett, Codex Diplomaticus Saxoniae 2/VIII (Leipzig, 1868), 416, n. 498 (1478 I 14). 15 Strassburger Zunft- und Polizei-Verordnungen des 14. und 15. Jahrhunderts, ed. J. Brucker (Strassburg: de Gruyter, 1889), 293. 16 Concerning these regulations and the following dispute see Die Rechtsquellen des Kantons Bern, I/1: Das Stadtrecht von Bern, 1 (1218-1539), ed. Friedrich Emil Welti, Sammlung Schweizerischer Rechtsquellen 2 (Aarau, 1902), 187-189 and 192- 193; Leo Zehnder, Volkskundliches in der älteren schweizerischen Chronistik, Schriften der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, 60 (Basel: G. Krebs, 1976), 81-83. 17 “Chronicon Benessii de Weitmil,” in Fontes rerum Bohemicarum 4 (Prague, 1884), 546.

23 Gerhard Jaritz shoes and other pieces of dress were seen as a matter of vanity for everybody. It was instead a matter of status. The dress regulations for Bern from 1464, enacted again in 1470, led to resistance. The authorities determined that the law against pointed shoes, short tunics, and long trains should be applied to everybody in the town, including the urban nobility. Diepold Schilling’s Bernese chronicle reports their reactions.18 The nobility opposed these regulations and emphasized that almighty God, kings, and emperors had, for hundreds of years, ordered that there should be advantages for priests, knights, and noblemen, including visible differences from those of other classes. The nobility claimed that they should be free and should not bound by this law. They also argued that that since the creation of the world, in heaven as well as on earth, there had been social differences and these distinctions should not be eliminated. Thus, members of the nobility were obliged to wear distinctive clothing so that they might easily be recognized; they said that they could not always use gold and silver to evoke the recognition their status warranted. The nobility did not prevail, however. They were sentenced to pay a fine and were banned from the city for a month. In retaliation, the nobility decided not to come back, a decision with negative consequences for the city’s economy. A compromise was sought and was reached. The authorities gave the nobility permission to wear such clothes as they pleased, as long as their dress was decent. Their privileges protected, the nobility returned to Bern. The differences between provoking God’s wrath with certain apparel and the legitimacy, even the necessity, of upper-class display of such apparel may also be seen in the visual arts. It follows a regular pattern. A panel painting representing the “Burning of the Vanities,” dating from about 1470, commemorates St. John Capistran’s (1385-1456) penitential sermon at Bamberg, preached in 1452 (Fig. 2.3). The painting shows some symbols of urban superbia being thrown into the fire, including female headgear, a board game, playing cards, and dice are being thrown into the fire.19 A South Tyrolean panel painting from before 1500

18 Die Berner-Chronik, 49-70; Zehnder, Volkskundliches, 82-3; See also Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz,” 16-7. 19 See Der Bußprediger Capestrano auf dem Domplatz in Bamberg. Eine Bamberger Tafel um 1470/75. Begleitschrift zur Ausstellung, Schriften des Historischen Museums Bamberg, 12, ed. Hubert Ruß (Bamberg: Historisches Museum, 1989). For

24 Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages representing the temptation of St. Martin by a sorcerer (Fig. 2.4). The tempter wears extremely long pointed shoes, a strongly negative association.20 In contrast, in a Tyrolean heraldic manuscript from the last quarter of the fifteenth century, we find a depiction of Duke Albrecht of Austria, most probably Albrecht VI who died in 1463.21 His extremely pointed shoes are undoubtedly not negative but are merely a material sign of his high status (Fig. 2.5). Such context-bound contrasts played a regular and characteristic role in the language and grammar of material signs of status in late medieval society.22 Connections between the wrath of God and sumptuous behavior, chiefly in regard to dress, continued and even increased in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century sumptuary laws in German-speaking areas. The laws of Emperor Maximilian II, promulgated in Austria in 1568, also dealt with dress, festivities, and gambling, and linked the wrath of God to the invasion of the Turks.23 Regulations against haughtiness and superfluity in dress enacted in Bern in 1644 began with a general statement about the sins of pride, haughtiness, and superfluity that had provoked God to wrath and led whole cities, countries, and peoples to ruin.24 Leipzig dress regulations of 1698 threatened the offenders with the rod of God’s wrath.25

Capestran’s arguments about dress, see Giovanni da Capestrano, Trattato degli Ornamenti Specie delle Donne, ed. Aniceto Chiappini (Siena: Cantagalli, 1956), passim. 20 Göflan (South Tyrol), parish church. 21 Wappenbuch, Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. S. n. 12820, fol. 40v. 22 See, generally, Gerhard Jaritz, “Der Alltag der Kontraste. Muster von Argumentation und Perzeption im Spätmittelalter,” in Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters, ed. Gerhard Jaritz, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien 5 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000), 9-23. 23 Codex Austriacus ordine alphabetico compilatus..., II, ed. Franz-Anton Edler von Guarient (Vienna, 1704), 147. Cf. the similar arguments in the seventeenth- century dress regulations from Hildesheim (Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen, 82-3). 24 Die Rechtsquellen des Kantons Bern, I: Stadtrechte 6/2: Das Stadtrecht von Bern 6, ed. Hermann Rennefahrt, Sammlung Schweizerischer Rechtsquellen, 2 (Aarau, 1960), 946 (1664 VII 4). 25 Ernst Kroker, “Leipziger Kleiderordnungen,” Mitteilungen der Deutschen Gesellschaft zur Erforschung Vaterländischer Sprache und Altertümer 10/5 (1912), 66. Cf. Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen, 57-9.

25 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 2.3. The result of St John Capistrano’s preaching activity: burning of vanities at the Cathedral Square of Bamberg St John Capistrano’s Sermon and the Burning of Vanities (detail); Sebald Bopp (?), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1470/1475 (Bamberg, Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz, Inv. no. L 1573; © Bamberg Staatsgalerie, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Some conclusions may be drawn from the evidence I have surveyed. Public material culture of the late Middle Ages and the early modern period had to be regulated to keep up the stability of the social system. The appearance of indispensable differences of status had to be maintained, and public morals and religious values had to be protected. The regulation of material culture involved both religious and secular discourse, in sermons and religious visual arts as well as in laws and other regulations. The prevention of superbia played an important role in this project, with the regulation of dress apparently the predominant concern. Religious and secular authorities gave different reasons for needing to

26 Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages prevent pride and haughtiness. Secular authorities in German-speaking areas not only used the economic and social profit of their communities in their arguments but also connected their arguments to the need to avert God’s wrath. The possibility and danger of Ira Dei was, therefore, decisive in public discourse about material culture, especially in relation to outward appearance and behavior. And as we have seen, the interdependence of material and spiritual concerns shows that often no clearly perceptible borderlines existed between them. Material objects and their use influenced spiritual life and spiritual life determined – or at least was supposed to determine – the use of material objects.

Fig. 2.4. The sorcerer: pointed shoes as a signifier of negative connotations The temptation of St Martin by the disguised devil, panel painting, tempera on wood, before 1500 (Göflan /Covelano, South Tyrol, St Martin parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

27 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 2.5. Duke Albrecht VI of Austria: pointed shoes as a signifier of high status and positive connotations Wappenbuch (detail, fol. 40v), Tyrolean master (?), pen and ink drawing on paper, last quarter of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. n. 12820, fol. 40v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

- 3 -

Images and the Power of the Spoken Word*

In the thirties of the sixteenth century, the German reformatory author Sebastian Franck criticized the use of images in the Catholic churches:

Whenever there is an important feast-day, the church is decorated with hangings and great garlands; the altarpieces are opened up and the saints dusted and prinked, especially the Patron of the feast. They set him dressed up under the church door in order to beg, and a man sits by him to say the words for him, because the statue cannot speak. He says: ‘Give St George (or St Leonard, or whoever it may be) something, for God’s sake […]1

We are rarely confronted with such a situation concerning image and orality. We also seldom come across actually speaking visual images; they have to be looked for in the area and competence of extraordinary miracles.2 However, the context and connection between medieval images and the spoken word occurred regularly and played a decisive role in the mediation of messages with the help of pictures. I would like to concentrate mainly on the late Middle Ages and on religious space. The examples originate particularly from the German speaking area of Europe.

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Images and the Power of the Spoken Word,” in Oral History of the Middle Ages. The Spoken Word in Context, ed. Gerhard Jaritz and Michael Richter, Medium aevum quotidianum. Sonderband 11, CEU Medievalia 3 (Krems: Budapest 2001), 277-294. 1 Michael Baxandall, The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1980), 59. 2 Cf. Hans Belting, Likeness and Presence: a History of the Image before the Era of Art (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994), 194, 310, and 362.

Gerhard Jaritz

The representation of oral communication was one of the main contents of medieval images. If depicted persons communicated, this could be made evident through their gestures and their position toward each other.3 That way, visual patterns of the actors’ oral communication were created to be perceived and understood by the beholders of the pictures. This creation could be continued and intensified if the spoken words were actually made present, most often in scrolls or banderoles.4 Through such scrolls the visual was not only penetrated by the verbal,5 but also by the oral. This material presence of the spoken word contributed to the explicit physical presence of ‘speech acts’ of the depicted persons, as well as to their authenticity and importance.6 The word was to create or to increase the life-likeness and, by that, the efficacy and the success of the picture, its contents and its actors.7 In a

3 Cf, e.g., François Garnier, Le langage de l’image au Moyen Âge. Signification et symbolique (Paris: Le Léopard d’Or, 1982); François Garnier, Le langage de l’image au Moyen Âge, II. La grammaire des gestes (Paris: Le Léopard d’Or, 1989); Jean- Claude Schmitt, La raison des gestes dans l’Occident médiéval (Paris: Gallimard, 1990); Jan Bremmer and Herman Roodenburg (ed.), A Cultural History of Gesture. From Antiquity to the Present Day (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1992). 4 Cf. Wilhelm Messerer, “Illustrationen zu Wernhers ‘Drei Liedern von der Magd’,” in Deutsche Literatur im Mittelalter – Kontakte und Perspektiven. Hugo Kuhn zum Gedenken, ed. Christoph Cormeau (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1979), 448-451. 5 See Alison R. Flett, “The Significance of Text Scrolls,” in Medieval Texts and Images. Studies of Manuscripts from the Middle Ages, ed. Margaret M. Manion and Bernard J. Muir (Chur et al.: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1991), 44. For the different functions of inscriptions in images see Mieczysław Wallis, “Inscriptions in Paintings,” Semiotica 9 (1973), 6-11. 6 For the scrolls and inscriptions in medieval pictures as ‘speech acts,’ see Michael Camille, “The Book of Signs: Writing and Visual Difference in Gothic Manuscript Illumination,” Word and Image 1 (1985), 143. Concerning the perceived importance of the written text or dialogue in medieval paintings, see Wallis, “Inscriptions,” 13; Leslie Brubacker, “When pictures speak: Incorporation of Dialogue in the Ninth-century Miniatures of Paris gr. 510,” Word & Image 12 (1996), 106. In regard to the physical presence of the words, see Roger Tarr, “Visibile parlare: the Spoken Word in Fourteenth-century Central Italian Painting,” Word & Image 13 (1997), 225. 7 Cf. the story in Giorgio Vasari’s Le vite de piu eccellenti architetti, pittori, et scultori Italiani, da Cimbabue insino a’tempi nostri (Florence, 1550) about Buonamico Buffalmacco, who told Bruno di Giovanni to paint words issuing from the

30 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word given context, the spoken text might have been explaining, contextualizing, signifying, mediating, inviting, stimulating, or emotionalizing; and it is clear that the beholder need not have been literate to understand.

Fig. 3.1. The spoken words of the donator written on a banderole: “O sancte Bernhardine, ora pro me” The donator, Wolfgang Arndorfer praying, stained glass window, end of the fifteenth century (Neukirchen am Ostrong, Lower Austria, Virgin Mary parish and pilgrimage church; photo: IMAREAL Krems) mouths of the depicted figures to let them appear alive (Tarr, “Visibile parlare,” 232). For other possibilities of bringing to life the depicted situations by using text scrolls, see Susanne Wittekind, “Vom Schriftband zum Spruchband. Zum Funktionswandel von Spruchbindern in Illustrationen biblischer Stoffe,” Frühmittelalterliche Studien 30 (1996), 352: “Generell bedeutet die Verwendung von Spruchbändern eine Verlebendigung des historischen Ereignisses, da der Betrachter die ‘verschriftlichte’ Rede ja laut mitliest.”

31 Gerhard Jaritz

In the case of the words spoken by depicted donators, for instance, experience told everybody that the latter asked certain mediators, mainly saints, to pray for them: “ora pro me,” “ora pro nobis,” “bitt für mich,” and so on (Fig. 3.1).8

Fig. 3.2. The spoken words of the donator is known without having been written on the banderole St Florian with donator, Leonhard, provost of the Austin Canon House of St Florian, master S. H., panel painting, tempera on wood, 1487 (St Florian, Upper Austria, Stift Sankt Florian Kunstsammlungen; © Stift St Florian, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

In such cases and contexts, the representation of the spoken word in pictures did not mean that the audience had to be confronted with letters or actually, written text. It was enough to depict the act of speaking and its importance by using the empty bearers of the oral statements, i.e. the text scrolls or banderoles without text, as attributes of the actors.9 It

8 The donator Wolfgang Arndorfer praying: “O sancte Bernhardine ora pro me” in the church of Neukirchen am Ostrong (Lower Austria). 9 Cf. Wittekind, “Vom Schriftband zum Spruchband,” 343: “Daher genügt oft schon die unbeschriebene Rolle als Hinweis, als Sinnbild des Evangeliums, des

32 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word would have been clear that a kneeling donator holding an empty banderole was about to ask a saint to pray for him or her (Fig. 3.2).10 Everyone would have known the existing or necessary formula in this context. The words were material, they were visible and spoken, without actually having been written down. A similar situation could, for instance, occur on the occasion of the “Annunciaton of the Virgin.”11 In many images, one can read that the angel said “Ave, gracia plena, dominus tecum” when approaching the Virgin;12 the written word becomes part of the rhetoric.13 But some examples show that this was not indispensable, and that the banderole could stay empty (Fig. 3.3),14 or was even missing, because everybody already knew the spoken words in the oral communication between the Angel and the Virgin on the occasion of the Annunciation. This would also have been true for the illiterates who were confronted with the written words of the Angel. The speech act and its text were so important

apostolischen Lehrauftrags bzw. der Weissagung, die in Formen verschriftlichter Rede dargestellt werden.” 10 Saint Florian with the donator Leonhard, provost of the Austin Canon house of Saint Florian (Upper Austria). 11 For the role of the communicated word and its iconography in Annunciation- scenes, cf. especially Horst Wenzel, “Die Schrift und das Heilige,” in Die Verschriftlichung der Welt. Bild, Text und Zahl in der Kultur des Mittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit, ed. Horst Wenzel, Wilfried Seipel, and Gotthart Wunberg (Vienna: Kunsthistorisches Museum and Milan: Skira, 2000), 19-29; Horst Wenzel, “Die Verkündigung an Maria. Zur Visualisierung des Wortes in der Szene, oder: Schriftgeschichte im Bild,” in Maria in der Welt. Marienverehrung im Kontext der Sozialgeschichte, 10.-18. Jahrhunderts, ed. Claudia Opitz et al. (Zürich: Chronos, 1993), 23-52; Horst Wenzel, Hören und Sehen, Schrift und Bild. Kultur und Gedächtnis im Mittelalter (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1995), 270-291. See also Klaus Schreiner, “Marienverehrung, Lesekultur, Schriftlichkeit. Bildungs- und frömmigkeitsgeschichtliche Studien zur Auslegung und Darstellung von ‘Mariä Verkündigung’,” Frühmittelalterliche Studien 24 (1990), 314-68. 12 For the variations of the Annunciation scene from the point of view of the communication and time factor, see also Lucien Rudrauf, “The Annunciation: Study of a Plastic Theme and Its Variations in Painting and Sculpture,” Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 7 (1948/49), 325-48. 13 See Wenzel, “Die Schrift und das Heilige,” 27. 14 Like by the angel on Nikolaus Stürhofer’s Annunciation panel from the beginning of the sixteenth century.

33 Gerhard Jaritz that one simply had to be aware of the contents without necessarily being able to read, or even to see the text.

Fig. 3.3. The angel of the Annunciation with the empty banderole as his attribute: saying what everybody knows Annunciation (detail), Nikolaus Stürhofer (15th/16th c.), panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, beginning of the sixteenth century (Innsbruck, Tiroler Landesmuseum – Ferdinandeum, Inv. no. 18; © Ferdinandum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

In other cases, it was just oral communication generally that was important and had to be made visible – even if the source or explicit background of the spoken words was missing. There, it did not matter what was actually said; the beholder should be able to imagine or to (re)construct herself or himself what the speech act was about. Let us, for example, take a well-known and typical satiric, and in that way, also didactic, engraving by Israhel van Meckenem (d. 1503): the “world-

34 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word upside-down” representation of “The Subjugated Husband” (Fig. 3.4).15 The husband is spinning, the wife has taken power; the distaff is her sword, and she puts on male pants, meaning that she had occupied the rule. The action seems to be accompanied by an oral dispute between the two – the connotation is clear, its contents are imaginable. We need not be able to read the conversation letter by letter.

Fig. 3.4. The subjugated husband quarrels with his wife with (empty) banderoles for their spoken words The subjugated husband (Der unterjochte Ehemann), Israhel van Meckenem the Younger (1440/1445–1503), copper engraving, end-fifteenth century (Vienna, Alberina Graphische Sammlung, Inv. no. DG 1926/1247; © Albertina, photo: Albertina)

15 Max Lehrs, Geschichte und kritischer Katalog des deutschen, niederländischen und französischen Kupferstichs im XV. Jahrhundert, 9. Textband (Vienna: Gesellschaft für vervielfältigende Kunst, 1934; reprint New York: Collectors Editions, n.y.), 368- 9. Cf. Gerhard Jaritz, “Die Bruech,” in Symbole des Alltags, Alltag der Symbole. Festschrift für Harry Kühnel zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Gertrud Blaschitz et al. (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlags-anstalt, 1992), 395-416.

35 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 3.5. Talkative churchgoers with (empty) banderoles for their spoken words Churchgoers, Israhel van Meckenem the Younger (1440/1445–1503), copper engraving, around 1495 (Washington, D.C., National Gallery of Art – Rosenwald Collection, Inv. no. 1943.3.156; © NGA, photo: Max Lehrs: Geschichte und kritischer Katalog des deutschen, niederländischen und französischen Kupferstichs im XV. Jahrhunderts. Band 9. Wien: Gesellschaft für vervielfältigende Kunst, 1934, 390)

The “Churchgoers,” again an engraving by Israhel van Meckenem (Fig. 3.5),16 are obviously more interested in themselves and their own

16 Lehrs, Geschichte und kritischer, Katalog, 9. Textband, 389-90; The Illustrated Bartsch, vol. 9 (formerly vol. 6, part 2): Early German Artists, Israhel van Meckenem, ed. Fritz Koreny (New York: Abaris Books, 1981), 167, n. 176 (269).

36 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word outer appearance than in their piety – one only has to look at the pointed shoes of the lady, her headgear, the long rosary, the wealth of cloth, and so on. Part of their outer appearance is certainly also the materialized and again improper oral communication, their talkativeness, represented not only by the accompanying dog but made clearer with the help of the empty but long banderoles. It again does not seem important what they chat about, but that they do. It also fits into the well-known pattern of attributes and stereotypes that the banderole of the lady is much longer than the one of her husband. Both churchgoers are improperly talkative, but she talks more than he does: this message may have reached the beholder of around 1500. It was important to see and to recognize the speech act and its negative connotations generally, not the contents of the discussion or its explicit meaning. It was the act and image of the negative conversation that counted, on which everybody – out of his or her own experience – would have been able to imagine or to construct the fitting contents. In this way, the different possibilities for representing the spoken word in images established contexts, were parts of contexts, or of networks of the latter. They created various types of messages. The depicted speech acts offered chances for the beholder to create or add his or her own fitting texts. The pictorial construction of conversation, i.e. the materialization of the spoken word, was clearly dependent on its importance. It may have been the word that became flesh, the “Ave, gracia plena”, or the “Vere, vere, filius Dei erat”, and so on. It may, for instance, have been the spoken words that were in other ways decisive for the narration on which the contents and the meanings of the image were based. One may think of the attempt of Potiphar’s wife to seduce Joseph (Genesis 39: 7). Based on the biblical reference, it became the “Dormi mecum” in an illustration of a mid-fourteenth-century Concordantiae caritatis from the Lower Austrian Cistercian house of Lilienfeld, emotionalizing and clarifying the Bible story;17 as well as Joseph’s strict answer “Non faciam hanc rem

17 See the cover illustration of the volume Oral History of the Middle Ages. Concerning the Concordantiae caritatis generally, see Hedwig Munschek, Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Untersuchungen zu Inhalt, Quellen und Verbreitung mit einer Paraphrasierung von Temporale, Sanktorale und Commune (Frankfurt am Main et al.: Peter Lang, 2000).

37 Gerhard Jaritz quam nefas.” Again, explanation and emotion, presence and authenticity are explicitly provided. This is the power of the spoken word.

Fig. 3.6. The Latin-speaking devil clad as a virgin tries to seduce St Justina The temptation of St Justina, from Michael Pacher’s workshop, panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Assling, East Tyrol, St Justina parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

The recipients of text and images in the Concordantiae caritatis, the Cistercian monks of Lilienfeld, were certainly able to read the text of the manuscript as well as the spoken words in the images. This must have been different in a small rural community like, for instance, the east Tyrolean village of St. Justina, where another depicted seducer tried to

38 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word be successful. The devil, masked as a woman, approaches Saint Justina and says to her “Hodie missa sum ad te a Christo vivere tecum in castitate” (Fig. 3.6).18 Here, we are confronted with another situation: most of the beholders will not have been able to read the text that is so important for comprehending the story. They also would not have understood Latin. A mediator, the priest, must have been available to provide the audience with more information than the clear general fact to be understood by everybody that the spoken word played an important role in the legend of the church’s patron saint and this confrontation between good and bad.

Fig. 3.7. St Nicholas commands the sea in German to become calm Fresco cycle dedicated to the life of St Nicholas (detail from the choir), Meister Leonhard von Brixen’s workshop, wall- painting, around 1480 (Klerant/Cleran, South Tyrol, St Nicholas filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

18 The temptation of Saint Justina on the panel of a winged altarpiece in the church of the Tyrolean St. Justina.

39 Gerhard Jaritz

Mainly in the fifteenth century, we find a modification of the message, which also occurs in religious images. The role of the vernacular increased and took over. “Ora pro nobis” became “bitt für uns;” and Saint Nicholas (Fig. 3.7) successfully trying to save the ship in the storm could now express his command to the sea in German: “mer, ich gebiet dir dass du still stest.”19 A mediator, a reader might still have been necessary, but not a translator any more. An increased closeness20 of the depicted spoken word was provided to its beholders. Such aspects of transmitting a written oral message in images or in context with images also leads us to further variants concerning oral communication and its visual presentation. If we, for instance, think of votive images from pilgrimage sites, we see that they regularly contain written texts that describe the miracles, often in a kind of summary out of longer miracle reports – as in the example (Fig. 3.8) from the so-called Large Miracle altarpiece from the Styrian pilgrimage site of Mariazell (“Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar”) that explains in the vernacular the representation of a carpenter and his cross-bow fight with another man, miraculously reaching a good and peaceful end through the intervention of the Virgin of Mariazell.21 The text, i.e. caption of the image, would have been made public in a similar way to the written, longer miracle reports themselves: they will have been read and explained to the audience.

19 On the choir fresco in the church of the Tyrolean Klerant. 20 For the closeness of late medieval images to their beholders and the methods to increase it, see Gerhard Jaritz, “Nähe und Distanz als Gebrauchsfunktion spatmittelalterlicher religiöser Bilder,” in Frömmigkeit im Mittelalter. Politisch-soziale Kontexte, visuelle Praxis, körperliche Ausdrucksformen, ed. Klaus Schreiner (Munich: Fink, 2002), 265-80. 21 Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar, 1518/1522. Graz (Styria), Landesmuseum Joanneum. Cf. Gottfried Biedermann, Katalog Alte Galerie am Landesmuseum Joanneum (Graz: Alte Galerie am Landesmuseum Joanneum, 1982), 162-6 (lit.); Peter Krenn, “Die Wunder von Mariazell und Steiermark,” in Die Kunst der Donauschule 1490-1540, ed. Otto Wutzel (Linz: Oberösterreichischer Landesverlag, 1965), 164-8; Peter Krenn, “Der große Mariazeller Wunderaltar von 1519 und sein Meister,” Jahrbuch des Kunsthistorischen Institutes der Universität Graz 2 (1966/67), 31-51.

40 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word

Fig. 3.8. Rescue during a fight with crossbow, the summary of a miracle report as caption of the image Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), master of the Brucker Martinstafel, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1518/1522 (Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

An oral transmission of such “image descriptions” or captions particularly is to be taken for granted in all the cases where these texts are rhymed. A significant example is the South German, so-called Söflingen altarpiece from the beginning of the sixtenth century.22 It was produced for the convent of Poor Clares at Söflingen near Ulm and shows 126 scenes out of the life of Saint Francis. Each of the scenes has a rhymed description in the vernacular, which may be seen as

22 Söflinger Altar, c. 1510, Ulm, from the convent of Poor Clares, Söflingen. Füssen, Staatsgalerie. Cf. Elisabeth Vavra, “Söflinger Altar,” in Niederösterreichische Landesausstellung 800 Jahre Franz von Assisi: franziskanische Kunst und Kultur des Mittelalters (Vienna: Amt der Niederösterreichischen Landesregierung, 1982), 772-775 (lit.).

41 Gerhard Jaritz corresponding to and typical for the needs of a female religious community of this period.

Fig. 3.9. The author of a late medieval fable-collection with book and banderole to the right and the narrator to the left Ulrich Boner/Bonerius (early fourteenth century): Der Edelstein (its last woodcut), first printed in Bamberg, 1461 (Wolfenbüttel, Herzog August Bibliothek, Inv. no. 16. I. Eth. 2o; © HAB, photo: Ulrich Boner: Der Edelstein: Faksimile der ersten Druckausgabe Bamberg 1461. Bde I–II. Stuttgart: Verlag Müller und Schindler, 1972, II. 175)

There, we also see a phenomenon that became significant for secular woodcuts at around 1500, and also later: the role of the narrator or moderator who was integrated into picture and/or text. This could happen with the help of two-part images like, for instance, in the woodcut illustrations of the first print (Bamberg, 1461) of Ulrich Boner’s fables “Edelstein” (c. 1345) (Fig. 3.9).23 The larger part in the right half

23 This image is the last woodcut in the volume and shows the author with book and banderole to the right and the narrator to the left: Wenzel, Hören und Sehen, 386 f.; Ulrich Boner, Der Edelstein, with an introduction by Doris Fouquet- Plümacher, facs. of the first printed edition, Bamberg, 1461. 16. I. Eth. 2o of the Herzog August Library, Wolfenbüttel (Stuttgart: Müller & Schindler, 1972).

42 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word of the pictures contains the illustrations of the written text of the fables, the smaller to the left the figure of the narrator.

Fig. 3.10. The chaotic church holiday at Mögelsdorf, image and story told by a narrator Church anniversary holiday at Mögelsdorf – Die Kirchweih zu Mögelsdorf (detail), Barthel Beham (copy by Sebald Beham), verses by Hans Sachs, woodcut, 1527/1528 (Gotha, Schlossmuseum; © Gotha Schlossmuseum, photo: Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors, and Wives. Popular Imagery in the Reformation. Chicago – London: The University of Chicago Press, 1989, 42)

One finds the narrator in the text or as part of the text in a large number of broadsheets from the first half of the sixteenth century: for instance, in Barthel or Sebald Beham’s “Kirchweih zu Mögelsdorf” (Church Anniversary Holiday at Mögelsdorf) (Fig. 3.10). The story starts with:

Eins tags ich auff ein kirchwey kam gen Megeldorff, da ich vernam in einem grossen wirteshaus die pauren leben in dem sauß […]. (One day I went to a church anniversary at Mögelsdorf, where I saw the peasants carousing at a large inn […].)

43 Gerhard Jaritz

Then the narrator tells stories about the chaotic festival and about each dancing couple, to conclude at the end:

Ich dacht es wirt ind leng nicht felen, sie werden aneinander strelen, und wirt ein grosses schlahen draus, ich macht mich auff und geng zů haus. (At the end, I thought that they will beat each other, and that there will be a great fight, I set out and went home.)24

The rhymed written words of the narrator were certainly meant for an oral presentation in context with the presentation of the image. This creates an audiovisual performance to entertain and play on the emotions of the audience. The read text must have had decisive influence on the efficacy and success of this performance. To summarize: the medieval connection of image and the depicted spoken word was an important one. From the banderoles of speech acts that neither contain any letters nor words to the various representations of narrators and their presented ‘image-texts’ or ‘text-images;’ depicted orality represented presence, authenticity, power,25 and possibilities to understand – to influence, to perform, to explain, to educate, to emotionalize, and so on. For the late medieval perception of images, the spoken word often had a variety of determining and dominating functions. This, at last, could lead to the images of spoken text (Fig. 3.11), to be read, prayed, and orally communicated, like the mid-fifteenth century example from Hildesheim set up on the occasion of the visit of

24 Barthel Beham and Erhard Schön, Die Kirchweih zu Mögelsdorf, with verses by Hans Sachs, woodcut, 1527/28 (detail). See Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors, and Wives. Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 42-5; Hans Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren. Entstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst, ca. 1470- 1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen Verlag, 1986), 139-45. 25 For other levels of the ‘power of the word,’ see Werner Rocke, “Die Macht des Wortes. Feudale Repräsentation und christliche Verkündigung im mittelalterlichen Legendenroman,” in Höfische Repräsentation. Das Zeremoniell und die Zeichen, ed. Hedda Ragotzky and Horst Wenzel (Tübingen: Niemeyer 1990), 209-26.

44 Images and the Power of the Spoken Word

Cardinal Nicolaus Cusanus.26 It says in the vernacular that the common people did not know the most important prayers. Therefore, the Lord’s Prayer, the ‘Ave Maria,’ the Creed, and the Ten Commandments were written down in this image of text, which was placed in St. Lambert’s Church of Hildesheim. It is text, but also image: the image of written prayers representing their oral offering.

Fig. 3.11. The cathechism panel as a picture of prayers Catechism panel (Katechismus-Tafel) in the St Lambert’s church of Hildesheim, Cardinal Nikolaus von Kues, oil on two wooden panels, 1451 (Hildesheim, Roemer- und Pelizaeus-Museum, Inv. no. H 32; © Roemer-Museum, photo: www.inschriften.net)

26 Catechism panel in St. Lambert’s church, Hildesheim, 1451. H.-J. Rieckenberg, “Die Katechismus-Tafel des Nikolaus von Kues in der Lamberti-Kirche zu Hildesheim;” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 39 (1983), 555-81; Hartmut Boockmann, “Über Schrifttafeln in spätmittelalterlichen deutschen Kirchen,” Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 40 (1984), 210-21; Hartmut Boockmann, Die Stadt im späten Mittelalter (Munich: Verlag C.H. Beck, 1986).

45 Gerhard Jaritz

Some years ago, Norbert Ott postulated that medieval manuscript illustrations may not only be seen as a means of decoration and accompaniment of the text, but mainly as an instance of information and an elevation of the claim to truth and identification of the illustrated text.27 Similarly, the latter may also be assumed for the materialized speech acts in medieval images, their function and power. Pictures did not work well without the spoken word.

Fig. 3.12. The cathechism panel as a picture of prayers (detail)

27 Cf. Norbert H. Ott, “Mündlichkeit, Schriftlichkeit, Illustration. Einiges Grundsätzliche zur Handschriftenillustration, insbesondere in der Volkssprache,” in Buchmalerei im Bodenseeraum 13. bis 16. Jahrhundert, ed. Eva Moser (Friedrichshafen: Verlag Robert Gessler, 1997), 48: “Auch in der Spätzeit der Handschriftenillustration leistet das Bildmedium mehr als die bloße Verschönerung und visuelle Begleitung des Texts. Sie ist Informationsinstanz ebenso wie auratische Überhöhung des Wahrheits- und Identifikations- anspruchs der illustrierten Literatur.”

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The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages: Outburst versus Control of Emotions*

The destruction of material objects seems to be one of the phenomena in which emotions and material culture impact on each other – on various levels and among different groups of people: as initiators, performers, executioners, and victims. The medieval discourse about things, their perception, connotation, and evaluation, included, for many reasons, critiques concerning their utilization.1 A decisive element in this context was the level of their public role and display.2 Superbia was one important argument used in the discussion,3 but certainly not the only one. The critique of things often centered on verbal or written admonitions not to use them any longer. It sometimes explicitly demanded the change or removal of the objects. It might also have described or referred to their actual destruction.

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages: Outburst versus Control of Emotions,” in Emotions and Material Culture, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit: Diskussionen und Materialen 7 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2003), 51-76. 1 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Von der Objektkritik bis zur Objektzerstörung. Methoden und Handlungsspielräume im Spätmittelalter,” in Bilder und Bildersturm im Spätmittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Bob Scribner (Wolfenbütteler Forschungen 46) (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1990), 37-9. 2 See, generally, Das Öffentliche und Private in der Vormoderne, ed. Gert Melville and Peter von Moos (Cologne and Weimar: Böhlau Verlag, 1998). 3 With regard to developments and changes in the ‘hierarchy’ of the Vices, see, e.g., Lester K. Little, “Pride Goes Before Avarice. Social Change and the Vices in Latin Christendom,” The American Historical Review 76 (1971): 16-49.

Gerhard Jaritz

However, the latter did not occur regularly. The danger of disturbance seems to have been too great. When considering such destruction of things in late medieval life and its representation in various written and visual evidence,4 the question has to be posed: To what extent did such actions, for instance, the well- known ‘Bonfires of the Vanities’5 – happen in causal connection with outbursts of emotion by their participants? Were these events ‘officially’ organized and controlled (by the clergy, religious orders, urban authorities, and so on) in which spontaneous emotion, that is, excitement and disturbance, played and were expected to play a minor or strictly limited role? A number of detailed sources describe the organization of controlled ‘emotional’ events that served, for example, as a basis for such ‘Vanity Destruction Shows.’6 An intended and planned ‘construction’ of these events, their organization, and observation, however, definitely need not have meant that the actions had to take place without any appearance and explicit evocation of ‘real’ but, at the same time, controlled emotions. One may start from the assumption that the authorities promoted an arousal of public excitement to be part of the ritualized ‘show’ that, however, had to remain under constant supervision.7 Similar situations

4 This contribution concentrates on source material from the German-speaking areas of late medieval Central Europe. 5 See Gábor Klaniczay’s contribution “The ‘Bonfires of the Vanities’ and the Mendicants,” in Emotions and material culture, 31-50. 6 See, e.g., Beverley Mayne Kienzle, “Medieval Sermons and Their Performance: Theory and Record,” in Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages, ed. Carolyn Muessig (Leiden, Boston and Cologne: Brill, 2002), 89-124, esp. 118-9; Thomas Izbicki, “Pyres of Vanities: Mendicant Preaching on the Vanity of Women and Its Lay Audience,” in De Ore Domini: Preacher and Word in the Middle Ages, ed. T. L. Amos, E. A. Green, and B. M. Kienzle (Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute, 1989), 211-34; Horst Bredekamp, “Renaissancekultur als “Hölle”: Savonarolas Verbrennungen der Eitelkeiten,” in Bildersturm. Die Zerstörung des Kunstwerks, ed. Martin Warnke (Franfurt/Main: Syndikat, 1973), 41-64. 7 Conceming the role of emotions in the public and in public communication, see, in particular, the studies by Gerd Althoff, such as “Gefühle in der öffentlichen Kommunikation des Mittelalters,” in Emotionalität. Zur Geschichte der Gefühle, ed. Claudia Benthien, Anne Fleig, and Ingrid Kasten (Cologne, Weimar, and Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 2000), 82-99; Gerd Althoff, “Tränen, Zerknirschung. ‘Emotionen’ in der öffentlichen Kommunikation des

48 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages may also be traced in the context of iconoclastic activities,8 the burning of books,9 various consequences of sumptuary legislation,10 the destruction of objects of poor quality,11 and so on. The “Bonfires of the Vanities,” in particular, demonstrate that specific emotionalized acts of destruction of large numbers of material objects could become positively evaluated actions and find regular support and encouragement from late medieval religious and secular

Mittelalters,” Frühmittelalterliche Studien 30 (1996), 60-79; Gerd Althoff, “Der König weint. Rituelle Tränen in öffentlicher Kommunikation,” in ‘Aufführung’ und ‘Schrift’ in Mittelalter und früher Neuzeit, ed. Jan-Dirk Müller (Stuttgart et al.: Mezler, 1996), 239-52. With regard to the aspect of ritual, see also Gerd Althoff, “Rituale und ihre Spielregeln im Mittelalter,” in Audiovisualität vor und nach Gutenberg, ed. Horst Wenzel (Schriften des Kunsthistorischen Museums 6) (Vienna: Kunsthistorisches Museum et al., 2000), 51-61; generally, see also recently Gerd Althoff, “Les rituels,” in Les tendances actuelles de l’histoire du Moyen Âge en France et en Allemagne, ed. Jean-Claude Schmitt and Otto Gerhard Oexle (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002), 231-42; Claude Gauvard, “Le rituel, objet d’histoire,” in ibidem, 269-81. 8 See, e.g., Margaret Aston, “Iconoclasm in England: Rites of Destruction by Fire,” in Bilder und Bildersturm im Spätmittelalter, 175-202; Norbert Schnitzler, Ikonoklasmus-Bildersturm. Theologischer Bilderstreit und ikonoklastisches Handeln während des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1996); Bildersturm. Wahnsinn oder Gottes Wille?, ed. Cécile Dupeux, Peter Jezler, and Jean Wirth (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 2000). 9 See, e.g., Thomas Werner, “Vernichtet und vergessen? Bücherverbrennungen im Mittelalter,” in Memoria als Kultur, ed. Otto Gerhard Oexle (Veröffentlichungen des Max-Planck-Instituts für Geschichte 121) (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995), 149-84. 10 With regard to the role of sumptuary laws in (late medieval) society, see, e.g., Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer und territorialer Kleider-, Aufwands- und Luxusgesetzgebung in Deutschland (13.-Mitte 16. Jahrhundert),” in Renaissance du pouvoir législatif et genése de l’État, ed. André Gouron and Albert Rigaudière (Publications de la Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit III) (Montpellier: Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, 1988), 29-57; Alan Hunt, Governance of the consuming passions: a history of sumptuary law (Basingstoke: Macmillan Press, 1996); Catherine Kovesi Killerby, Italian sumptuary legislation, 1200-1500 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). 11 See note 16.

49 Gerhard Jaritz authorities, who sometimes even arranged or copied them.12 Yet, on the other hand, the uncontrolled destruction of objects could clearly represent negative and malicious acts generally threatening the social order.13 Whether they meant the promotion of stability or signified threat depended on the context, occasion, and ‘organization.’ Emotions leading to or accompanying the destruction of material objects could therefore be connected with either positive evaluations or negative connotations. Thus, in general, similar emotions have to be recognized and analyzed differently, always in context and in relation to their objects: with persons, things, events, and occasions.14 Emotions illustrate different influences of and attitudes to these objects, which are directly or indirectly influenced by different social components. In this regard, a variety of networks has to be taken into account. Emotions mean interaction or motivation towards such interaction. Their outburst and control are a result of social convention and depend on their expected consequences concerning oneself and others. One has to recognize the complexity of emotional life.15 In late medieval and early modern guild, trade, and sumptuary laws, the destruction of objects was explicitly referred to in specific cases. It was especially ordered for objects of material culture that were discovered and evaluated as fake, in particular, gems, cloth, dress accessories, and so on: they were to be broken, burned or cut apart.16 Here, explicit emotional actions did not play an important role. Sometimes, however, the public organization of the events could be seen as relevant, for instance, with regard to the burning of such objects mentioned in the laws of Zwickau.17

12 See Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem,” 44. 13 Concerning such threatening activities of Savonarola, see, e.g., Bredekamp, “Renaissancekultur” and Gábor Klaniczay’s contribution in Emotions and material culture, 32-38. 14 For this and the following, see N. H. Frijda, “De structuur van emoties,” in Emoties in de Middeleeuwen, ed. R. E. V. Stuip and C. Vellekoop (Hilversum: Verloren, 1998), 9-28. 15 See Barbara H. Rosenwein, “Worrying about Emotions in History,” The American Historical Review 107 (2002), 841 and 844-5. 16 See Jaritz, “Von der Objektkritik,” 43-5. 17 Regine Schulzke, “Zwickauer Handwerksordnungen aus dem 14. bis 17. Jahrhundert,” Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 96 (1976),

50 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages

For these cases of authorized destruction the legitimate outer appearance of public emotion under control seems to have been favored. However, if the control was missing, disturbance could arise, which was seen as the negative aspect of any kind of emotion. Even if the destruction itself was explicitly recognized as a positive event, danger could originate in the context of such a disturbance. Moreover, these kinds of outward appearances and consequences of emotion might have become a threat, in particular, if they were not a manifestation of individuals but of larger groups of people, of the masses or a violent mob.18 In such cases the stability of the system would have been put at risk and any expected positive results of the action lost. The undisturbed appearance and destructive effects of the authorities’ emotions under (self-)control, however, were regularly evaluated positively. The controlled emotion of persons of higher social status, that is, authority, was correlated positively with the efficacy of their emotion- bound behavior. The more positively a person was evaluated and the clearer his or her dominating social status was, the more he or she was seen as being under control. The more emotion came to be represented as disturbing excitement and the more negative and ‘lower’ the emotionalized person was categorized, the less legitimate was her or his authority and right to act. Legitimate authority often had to stay untouched, even if failures occurred in action, as, for instance, in the context of husbands concerned with their wives. Husbands had (emotional) power that should not be threatened.19 Legitimate authority,

436; Jaritz, “Von der Objektkritik,” 45. 18 Concerning such problems during the iconoclastic activities of the Reformation, see, e.g., Beat Hodler, “Bildersturm auf dem Land. Der ‘Gemeine Mann’ und das Bild,” in Bildersturm. Wahnsinn oder Gottes Wille?, esp. 54-5. 19 See the example out of one of Berthold’s of Regensburg sermons, in which he criticized the yellow female headgear and ordered its destruction by the husbands. Carrying the sword, that is being in possession of power, they had the right and duty to do that, even if they tore out some of the wife’s hairs in the course of this action. Ez solten ouch niwan die jüdinne unde die pfeffine unde die boesen hiute tragen, die ûf dem graben dâ gént: die süln gelwez gebende dâ tragen, daz man sie erkenne. Wan swelhiu frouwe anders ein gilwerinne ist, daz sult ir mir alle merken, daz sich daz niemer vervoelet, […] Ir man möhtet ez eht wol understên unde möhtet ez in wol frümecliche wern, des êrsten mit guoter rede; wollten sie ez dar umbe niht lân, sô soltet irz in frumeclichen wern. ‘Owê bruoder Bertholt! joch ist der vînt gar schedelich den der man alle zît in dem hûse haben muoz. Ich hân sîn die mînen gar dicke gebeten güetliche und übellîche, sie

51 Gerhard Jaritz therefore, opened up the way to a situation in which the results of ‘emotional behavior’ (anger, for instance) could be or become identical with undisturbed (punishing or destroying) efficacy. This may, in consequence, be compared to the foundation and results of the wrath of God, which was also represented regularly in connection with the destruction of material things.20 Still in the late Middle Ages, Lucius C. F. Lactantius’ (260-c. 340) statement recounted that “God has authority; therefore also He must have anger, in which authority consists.”21 Following Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225 or 1227-1274), Ira Dei must not be understood as the excitement of God or as the disturbance of His inner peace. Rather, wrath was seen as His efficacy in making sinners feel that they had become separated from His will and, therefore, had to be punished.22 Therefore, in any case and context, legitimate actions against things were indispensably connected with the phenomena of authority and control. Such acts were influenced and accompanied by emotions, or

woltez nie gelâzen. Nû fürhte ich des unde zerte ich ir einz, daz sie mir hin nâch niwan deste groezern schaden tuo und ein zwirunt als guot gebende koufe.’ Sich, dâ solt dû reht ein herze gevâhen. Nû bist doch ein man unde treist ein swert: dich überwünde aber einer mit einem stabe lîhte wol. Gevâhe einen muot und ein herze unde zerre irz abe dem houbte! unde kleben vier hâr oder zeheniu dran, sô wirf ez allez in daz fiwer. […] Der man sol der frouwen meister sîn und îr hêrscher. [Berthold von Regensburg. Vollständige Ausgabe seiner Predigten, vol. 1, ed. Franz Pfeiffer (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1862; reprint Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1965) 415-6. 20 See, e.g., Gerhard Jaritz, “Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages: Evidence from German-speaking Regions,” Essays in Medieval Studies 18 (2002), 53-66; Gerhard Jaritz, “Von der Objektkritik,” 45-7. 21 De Ira Dei, ch. 23. See Lactantius: The Minor Works, trans. Mary Francis McDonald (Fathers of the Church, 54) (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1965); Lactantius, The Anger of God (http://newadvent.org/fathers/0703.htm); Lactance, La colère de Dieu, ed. and transl. Christiane Ingremeau (Sources chrétiennes 289) (Paris: Cerf, 1982). See also Giovanni Runchina, “Polemica filosofica e dottrinale nel De Ira Dei di Lattancio,” Annale della Facoltà di Lettere, Philosofia, e Magistero della Università di Cagliari 6 (1985), 159-81; Jaritz, “Ira Dei.” 22 F.J.A. de Grijs, “Thomas Aquinas on ira as a Divine Metaphor,” in ‘Tibi soli peccavi’. Thomas Aquinas on Guilt and Forgiveness, ed. Henk J. M. Schoot (Publications of the Thomas Instituut te Utrecht, N.S. III) (Utrecht and Leuven: Peeters, 1996), 19-46; Jaritz, “Ira Dei.”

52 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages represented as having been emotional, or described by using terminology understood in the context of emotion. The source evidence shows that authority and control, or their lack, played the most important role in any positive or negative connotation of the events of destruction. Emotions may have had positive effects; they might have been necessary – but only if they happened under control. An unauthorized outburst of emotion had to have negative effects. The righteous and undisturbed anger of, for instance, God, the saints,23 rulers,24 lords,25 or husbands could be compared with the uncontrolled, illegitimate, and harmful ire that was seen as the vice of anger among the members of the lower social groups of society.26 The anger of peasants or members of lower urban social groups, the most negatively connoted, is a good example to show the social and socially dependent hierarchy and evaluation of the differences in the representation of late medieval emotional phenomena.27 Such differences and categorizations may always be seen when studying the context and correlation of the destruction of material objects and the representation of associated emotions and emotional communities. The connotation and evaluation of emotional actions was explicitly dependent on their social classification.

23 See Catherine Peyroux, “Gertrude’s furor. Reading Anger in an Early Medieval Saint’s Life,” in Anger’s Past. The Social Uses of an Emotion in the Middle Ages, ed. Barbara H. Rosenwein (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1998), 36- 55. 24 See Gerd Althoff, “Ira regis. Prolegomena to a History of Royal Anger,” in ibidem, 59-74; Gerd Althoff, “Der König weint.” 25 See Richard E. Barton, “’Zealous Anger’ and the Renegotiation of Aristocratic Relationships in Eleventh- and Twelfth-Century France,” in Anger’s Past, 153-70. 26 About the development of this kind of double standard in Christian tradition, see Lester K. Little, “Anger in Monastic Curses,” in ibidem, 12-7. 27 See Paul Freedman, “Peasant Anger in the Late Middle Ages,” in ibidem, 171- 88. See also note 18. Ernst Schubert, Alltag im Mittelalter. Natürliches Lebensumfeld und menschliches Miteinander (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2002), 194-201. Cf. Peter Dinzelbacher, “Gefühl und Gesellschaft im Mittelalter. Vorschläge zu einer emotionsgeschichtlichen Darstellung des hochmittelalterlichen Umbruchs,” in Höfische Literatur – Hofgesellschaft – Höfische Lebensformen um 1200, ed. Gert Kaiser and Jan-Dirk Müller (Düsseldorf: Droste Verlag, 1986), 225-7.

53 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 4.1. The destruction of idols by Virgin Mary at the Flight to Egypt Flight to Egypt, Speculum humanae salvationis (detail, fol. 13v), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1330s (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. n. 2612, fol. 13v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

On many occasions, the ideal of any kind of ‘positive’ emotion and its outer appearance was represented by calmness.28 If one concentrates,

28 The remarks of François Garnier concerning pleasure and laughter may, e.g., be generalized with regard to all other emotional categories and their representations – in medieval visual evidence as well as in many examples of written sources; see Garnier, “Plaisir, joie et bonheur dans l’iconographie médiévale,” in Le rire au Moyen Âge dans la litterature et dans les arts, ed. Thérése Bouché and Héléne Charpentier (Bordeaux: Presses Universitaires de Bordeaux,

54 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages for instance, on visual images29 and acts of destruction depicted in them, one soon comes across the demolition and fall of pagan idols initiated and caused by saints, as, for instance, in the context of the legend of the Virgin and the Flight to Egypt (Fig. 4.1),30 of Saint George (Fig. 4.2),31 Saint Catherine, Saint John the Evangelist, and so on. The saints do not have to touch the idols. They are in no way externally emotionalized, but they represent the typical signs of saintly calmness, beauty, and dignity. For their effectiveness, it was the inner and spiritual emotion that counted and caused the destruction. In comparison, one may use images that deal with the destruction of Christian monuments and objects by pagans or heretics, as, for example, the demolition of altars by the Arians from the legend of Saint Anthony of Egypt (Fig. 4.3)32 or the desecration of the sculpture of Saint Nicholas of Myra (Fig. 4.4).33 In these cases, the acts of destruction are clearly connected with visible external emotional outburst by their performers that is represented by their violent gestures, physiognomy, dark complexion, and so on.34 The two situations of the destruction of idols and of Christian monuments show completely different utilizations of the emotional characteristics of outer appearance that contributed to the positive or negative visualization of the actions by the beholders.

1990), 194: “La dignité d’une personne se manifeste toujours par son calme et sa sérénité. Dans la mesure où il perturbe l’ordre et l’harmonie de la face, le rire est incompatible avec cette qualité. Les expressions facials du plaisir légitime sont donc absentes des représentations médiévales.” 29 This contribution concentrates on late medieval Central European image material having been collected and being available in the image database of the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit (Krems/Salzburg). It consists of c. 20,000 digitized pictures. 30 The destruction of the idols during the Flight to Egypt in the Speculum Humanae Salvationis. 31 Friedrich Herlin’s panel in the Town Museum of Nördlingen. 32 Legend of Saint Anthony of Egypt in the church of Sásová (Slovakia). 33 Legend of Saint Nicholas of Myra in the church of Bardejov (Slovakia). 34 With regard to the role of physiognomy and the face, see, generally (for the period from the sixteenth century onwards), Jean-Jacques Courtine and Claudine Haroche, Histoire du visage, Exprimer et taire ses émotions (du XVIe siècle au début du XIXe siècle) (Paris: Editions Rivages, 1998), passim.

55 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 4.2. The destruction of the idols by St George St George destroys the idols in the church, Friedrich Herlin von Rottenburg (1425/1430– 1500), panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1462 (Nördlingen, Bavaria, Stadtmuseum im Hl.-Geist Spital, Inv. no. 3b; © Nördlingen Stadtmuseum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

The voluntary destruction of one’s own objects because of anger and hatred against them was a part of the general renunciation and abdication of worldly goods. A typical, negatively connoted, late example of this kind is represented by the story of the destruction of some of their worldly goods by the early Anabaptists. The Swiss reformed theologian and chronicler Johannes Kessler (1502/03–1574) reported in his chronicle Sabbata for 1533 that female Anabaptists had cut their hair around the ears like men and no longer wanted to wear curls. As the

56 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages reason for these actions they said that they had sinned with pride and therefore threw away the parts of their bodies that had caused such anger. But later, Kessler remarks, they turned into the opposite: The women who had burned and thrown away their ribbons used them twice as much as they had done before.35

Fig. 4.3. The destruction of Christian altars by the Arians Scenes from the life of St Anthony the Hermit (detail), panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, early sixteenth century (Sásová, Slovakia, St Anthony parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

On the other hand, some positive figures renounced worldly goods, well-known saints, for instance, like Saint Francis,36 Saint Claire, Saint Dominique, Saint Elisabeth of Thuringia, and others. The representation

35 See Leo Zehnder, Volkskundliches in der älteren schweizerischen Chronistik (Veröffentlichungen der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde 60) (Basel: Krebs, 1976), 85; Jaritz, “Von der Objektkritik,” 48. 36 See, e.g., Gerhard Jaritz, “Weder Gold noch Silber noch Geld. Der ‘äußere Reichtum’ – ein Anstoß zur Alternative,” in 800 Jahre Franz von Assisi. Franziskanische Kunst und Kultur des Mittelalters, Krems-Stein 1982, Katalog des Niederösterreichischen Landesmuseums, NF 122 (Vienna: Niederöster- reichisches Landesmuseum, 1982), 13-40.

57 Gerhard Jaritz of their hatred against sumptuous material objects which they disposed of was dominated by control and dignity. Their emotions in the context of these destructions and other acts of renunciation were internal and spiritual; they do not show external signs. In a mid-fifteenth-century illumination, the fourth-century Egyptian Saint Thais, for instance, consigns her treasures to the flames (Fig. 4.5).37 She does it in a calm and ‘saintly’ way under complete control, without any sign of external emotion. This takes us back to the ‘Bonfires of the Vanities’ and their representations. One well-known example, the John Capistran-panel from Bamberg, shows the public burning of worldly goods – bonnets, pointed shoes, playing cards or game boards – on the occasion of the preacher’s sermon on the Cathedral Square in Bamberg. The image offers a clearly positive connotation of the event. John Capistran is depicted as a saint.38 The audience follows his urging to destroy the sumptuous worldly goods, and they do it in an evidently controlled manner. No external emotion is recognizable. The lady in the foreground, for instance, does not throw her bonnet into the flames, but rather places it calmly and carefully into the fire (Fig. 4.6).39 She does it in a way which is clearly comparable to Saint Thais’ renunciation of her treasures (Fig. 4.5). Both of them do it in a kind of exemplary and ideal, ‘unmoved’ mode – to be an explicit model for any beholder. The visual evidence of the late Middle Ages shows the differences of emotion in the context of the destruction of material objects much more clearly and less ambiguously than a good many written sources. Written sources sometimes have to be analyzed in the broader context of the narrative to understand the intended message and its relation to the kind of emotion described. Still, on the basis of some patterns of connection between the destruction of things and the type and intensity of emotions represented, it may be recapitulated that positive emotion meant its indispensable association with authority, control, calmness, serenity, and dignity. Concerning the representation of emotion in the late Middle

37 Saint Thais burns her worldly treasures, as illustrated in the Legenda Aurea (ÖNB, Cod. 326, fol. 214v). 38 He actually was beatified in 1694 and canonized in 1724. 39 See Der Bußprediger Capestrano auf dem Domplatz in Bamberg. Eine Bamberger Tafel um 1470/75. Begleitschrift zur Ausstellung, ed. Hubert Ruß (Bamberg: Historisches Museum, 1989).

58 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages

Ages, one may, therefore, summarize in a generalizing way: The best emotions were those that one did not recognize outwardly as such and which were expressed by people of legitimate authority.

Fig. 4.4. The desecration of a sculpture of St Nicholas by a Jew Scenes from the life of St Nicholas of Myra (detail), master A. R., panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1505 (Bardejov, Slovakia, St Egidius parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

59 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 4.5. St Thais burns her wordly treasures Scenes from the life of St Thais in Jacobus de Voragine’s Legenda Aurea (detail, fol. 214v), Viennese court workshop, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1446/1447 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 326, fol. 214v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

60 The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 4.6. An urban lady burns her bonnet at the occasion of St John Capistrano’s preaching in Bamberg St John Capistrano’s Sermon and the Burning of Vanities (detail); Sebald Bopp (?), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1470/1475 (Bamberg, Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz, Inv. no. L 1573; © Bamberg Staatsgalerie, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Social Order

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The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages: “Image” and “Reality”*

Research into the life of medieval peasants may, in many respects, still be placed “at the stage of specialized […] probing.”1 Generalized conclusions can be drawn only for some, often small areas. As at the beginning of the 1980s, we are still walking on “pathways,”2 looking for “traces”3 of peasant culture and life in the Middle Ages. Although some new results have been achieved during the last decade,4 we are still confronted with a large number of unsolved problems. In dealing with medieval peasants, and particularly with the material culture and the everyday life of peasants in the Middle Ages, we regularly encounter difficulties in analysis that are not present to the same extent when we investigate the nobility or townspeople. The reasons are clear.

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages: “Image” and “Reality”,” in Agriculture in the Middle Ages: Technology, Practice, and Representation, ed. Del Sweeney (Philadelphia: Pennsylvania University Press, 1995), 163-88. 1 J. Ambrose Raftis, “Introduction,” in Pathways to Medieval Peasants, ed. J. Ambrose Raftis (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1981), vii. 2 See the title of Raftis’s book (note 1 above). 3 See Vito Fumagalli and Gabriella Rossetti (eds.), Medioevo rurale: Sulle tracce della civiltà contadina (Bologna: I Mulino, 1980). 4 See, for example, the following general overviews: Werner Rösener, Peasants in the Middle Ages, trans. Alexander Stützer (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992); Karl Brunner and Gerhard Jaritz, Landherr, Bauer, Ackerknecht: Der Bauer im Mittelalter – Klischee und Wirklichkeit (Vienna: Böhlau, 1985); Bäuerliche Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 7, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Kl. 439 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1984).

Gerhard Jaritz

The chief problem is the “reality” of the representations of the peasants in the sources. Since one of our aims is to reconstruct the “realities” of the past in the most accurate way, we must consider that our view of matters may be very different from that of medieval people. Sources that emphasize the truth and reality of their contents may show medieval “truth” and medieval “reality,” but not necessarily anything that we would understand as “our” truth or reality. Most aspects of medieval material culture – as we all know – were normally not considered sufficiently important to be written down, or told to other people, or passed on to other generations. This was true especially for those spheres that were part of everyday life. When it did seem worthwhile to record material culture, it was for economic reasons or because what was being described was unusual, special, new, deviant, or subject to criticism. And that holds true even more strongly for the material culture and life of the peasants, who, in many respects or even generally, were not considered worthy of mention by members of the higher social ranks. Moreover, when peasants were the subject of certain treatises, chronicles, medieval literary works, or images, they were not often the readers, the audience, or the beholders. Our sources about peasants were, in most cases, written or painted or drawn for other members of society, but in general those others were not directly interested in what the peasants actually were doing. The exceptions occurred (1) if peasant life was important for economic reasons; (2) if it seemed to be deviating from normality, from the order of the system, and thus might threaten the position of others with respect to their food, their dress, their social exclusiveness, and so on; (3) if it could serve as a positive or negative model for those who had deviated from certain rules of society, or could prevent others from doing this; (4) if it might amuse the members of higher social classes and in that way motivate them in different directions. All the written and pictorial sources dealing with peasant life should be investigated in light of these considerations, which admittedly restrict the possibilities of reconstructing “realities.” This holds true for legal sources as well as for literary sources with a didactic intention, chronicles, religious and secular pictures, and so on. An emphasis on negative and positive images of peasants and a resulting strong polarity are evident. Medieval attempts to describe “reality” – or better, what we might understand as reality – are rare and must be treated very carefully.

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The exception to the above-mentioned patterns are the archaeological sources. These can certainly provide accurate information on houses, farming tools, peasant diet, vessels and pots, the structure of rural communities, and so on.5 Quite often they supply material that can only to a limited degree also be traced in the written and pictorial evidence. On the other hand, archaeological sources may permit us to use comparative methods for only a limited number of aspects in a small region. To come closer to our aim of reconstructing “reality” we must, from the beginning, use all the available sources, which means not only written sources, but also artistic representations and archaeological evidence. Studies that are based on such sources used separately and not comparatively often reach very disparate conclusions that are not always the result of regional or local differences, but rather the consequence of the fact that the sources have different intentions that have not been taken into consideration. Trying to reconstruct peasant dress, for example, by using only literary sources is simply impossible. Adding the evidence from inventories, chronicles, sumptuary laws, plays, sermons, pictures, and archaeological objects may be helpful by making contradictions and identities clearer. Nevertheless, we often will be unable to reconstruct “realities,” but may discover only the attitudes of others toward the peasants: we may see the function of the peasants as being useful or threatening to certain other groups in society. Literary texts of a didactic character, sermons, pictures – most of them dealing with peasants but not having peasants as their audience – were supposed to influence others, to have an emotional effect. The regular use of peasants for this purpose can be demonstrated. Peasants were the lowest class of society. For that reason they could be the “ideal victim” and function as good or as bad examples.6 They serve as

5 See, especially, the very stimulating book by Jean Chapelot and Robert Fossier, The Village and House in the Middle Ages, trans. Henry Cleere (London: Batsford, 1985). 6 See, for example, Helga Schüppert, “Der Bauer in der deutschen Literatur des Spätmittelalters,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 128-9; Walter Achilles, “Bemerkungen zum sozialen Ansehen des Bauernstandes in vorindustrieller Zeit,” Zeitschrift für Agrargeschichte und Agrarsoziologie 34(1) (1986): 1-30; Reginaldo Grégoire, “II contributo dell’agiografia alla conoscenza della realtà rurale: Tipologia delle fonti agiografiche anteriori al XIII secolo,” in Medioevo rurale, 343-7.

67 Gerhard Jaritz examples of good by their simple and hard way of life; they are a model for people who illegitimately try to change their status in the hierarchical order of society or want to lead a pampered life not equivalent to their rank. A large number of examples could be given. The peasant is used as a bad example particularly to show the results of unjustifiably leaving one’s given place in society. Clumsy and awkward peasants begin to wear clothes reserved for the nobility, to hold feasts like knights, and to eat like rulers. Historians of the nineteenth century and well into this century interpreted such descriptions in the sources as real, without considering that the representation of reality and truth was not the aim of such sources. Stories were never told from a pure interest in what the masses of society were doing; rather, they were didactic and satiric in order to motivate others to live a better life. And it did not appear contradictory for the same author to describe peasant life as the positive ideal for human existence and, at the same time, the negative model, as, for example, Hans Rosenplüt of Nuremberg, writing in about 1450:

Ich sprich, es ist in dreißsig Jorn Rechter Paurn nit vil geporn. Das ist wol an irer Hoffart Schein, Sie wölln all Herren sein. (I tell you that for the last thirty years no right peasant has been born. This is due to their arrogance, for all of them would like to be masters.)

Ich will loben den edeln frumen Paur. Wann warumb? Es wirt im oft saur. Wenn er mit seinem Pflug fert, Damit er alle Werlt ernert. […] Gott grüss dich, du edler Ackerman! Wann dein niemant enpern kann. (I would like to praise the noble and pious peasant. When and why? For he often turns sour, Plowing his field, To nourish all the world.

68 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

[…] May God be with you, you noble countryman! For nobody can do without you.)7

Similar tendencies have been noted by Keith Moxey, who analyzed the images of peasants in sixteenth-century German woodcuts.8 He showed, on the one hand, that the depiction of peasant holidays or peasant marriages could not be interpreted as real images of joyful peasants who had obtained more self-confidence during the Peasant Wars.9 Rather, they must be seen as didactic elements intended for other members of medieval society – particularly in the towns – as examples of the complete disorder represented by peasants. On the other hand, the same artists could produce a positive image of the peasant, depicting him as the common man to whom the message of the Reformation was directed.10 In medieval religious plays peasants and shepherds often were used to arouse emotion in the audience. They took the stage at a point when humorous details seemed to be needed in advance of a more relevant and interesting part of the play.11 This could have either negative or positive connotations. Saint Joseph is portrayed as a peasant in the Christmas plays of the late Middle Ages, a convention that also was taken over in the pictorial arts – old, a bit stupid, clumsy, made fun of by maidservants, only useful to prepare pap for the baby Jesus: he certainly was a caricature

7 Günther Franz (ed.), Quellen zur Geschichte des Bauernstandes im Mittelalter, Freiherr vom Stein-Gedächtnisausgabe 31 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1974), 548-52. See also Gerhard Jaritz, Zwischen Augenblick und Ewigkeit. Einführung in die Alltagsgeschichte des Mittelalters (Vienna: Böhlau, 1989), 111-2. 8 Keith P. F. Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives: Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 35-66 and passim. See also Hans- Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren: Entstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst ca. 1470-1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen, 1986). 9 Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives, 35-9, 140-1. 10 Ibidem, 57-8. 11 Wolfgang Greisenegger, Die Realität im religiösen Theater des Mittelalters: Ein Beitrag zur Rezeptionsforschung, Wiener Forschungen zur Theater- und Medienwissenschaft 1 (Vienna: Braumüller, 1978), passim; Greisenegger, “Bauer und Hirt im szenischen Spiel des Mittelalters,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 177-91.

69 Gerhard Jaritz rather than a real peasant.12 He bore enough elements of a real peasant to be recognizable to the audience, but many other aspects were exaggerated in order to move, to arouse emotion, to evoke laughter. Would these plays have been insulting to a peasant audience? Were they regularly, or ever, seen or heard by peasants? If we want to extract from the sources as many elements of “real” medieval peasants as possible as well as the attitudes of other groups of society toward the peasants, we must use a comparative approach. One decisive aspect is the already mentioned role of the audience, of the public, and of the public nature of the media that are available as our sources. We may deal with the (few) sources that were meant to be received and used by the peasants themselves: first, directly – for example, religious pictures in village churches, normative sources and by-laws, sermons to some extent, and archaeological objects, particularly those derived from excavations of deserted villages. The second type of source is indirect – for example, rural economic sources such as account books of landholders, inventories, wills, and so on. Such sources generally had a different function from those non-economic, mostly literary or pictorial sources meant to have a didactic effect on people of a higher social rank. That does not mean, though, that the latter are of minor importance for our analysis. Recognizing that the methods of reconstructing the reality of medieval peasant life applied in the nineteenth century and later evidently led to a number of wrong conclusions,13 historians have had to start from the beginning in many fields of analysis. Earlier, uncritical interpretations had the “advantage” that many aspects seemed rather clear and obvious. For these writers, what was said about the peasants, for example, in the literary sources of the Middle Ages, reflected true and “real” tendencies in the peasant life of the period: Having become aware that this certainly

12 Leopold Schmidt, “Sankt Joseph kocht ein Müselein: Zur Kindlbreiszene in der Weihnachtskunst des Mittelalters,” in Europäische Sachkultur des Mittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 4, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. K1. 374 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1980), 143-66. 13 See, for example, Alfred Hagelstange, Süddeutsches Bauernleben im Mittelalter (Leipzig: Duncker und Humblot, 1898).

70 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages is incorrect, we now are confronted with a number of problems and questions that seemed several decades ago to have been solved. We must admit that a number of efforts to reconstruct “realities” have failed and that attempts to investigate attitudes and mentalities must still be considered vague and uncertain. The lack of sources, moreover, is a problem that often cannot be overcome.

Fig. 5.1. Satirical image of a “noble” peasant A codex of mixed content, Calendar, Labours of the months, August (detail, fol. 7v), South German or Austrian master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1475 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 7v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

71 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 5.2. To recognize a peasant woman one sign (the straw hat) might be enough Last Judgment (detail), Austrian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Heidenreichstein, Lower Austria, Burgmuseum, Kinsky collection; © HBM, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

An important point for our analysis is the fact that peasants, even when depicted satirically or with strong positive or negative connotations, still had to be recognizable as peasants. This means that they always had to wear or possess certain signs or characteristics that clearly made them “peasants.” These became the basis for every exaggeration, change, or falsification. Such characteristic signs could be personal attributes, some significant type of labor, or the surroundings in which an event was placed. A typical example of the satirical use of the Labors of the Months (Fig. 5.1) made the peasant recognizable only by his work and not through his apparel, which can be considered “anti- peasant.” His tight doublet and hose, his long, curled hair usually signify young noblemen or their servants, and never peasants. On the other hand the young man is certainly not a nobleman or a servant of one, not only because of the work he is performing (binding sheaves) but also because of his gesture, his posture, and the roughness of his hair. We see here satirical elements aimed at arousing laughter. Every medieval

72 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages spectator was supposed to recognize and understand this. We today may often lack this knowledge, which may lead to crucial misinterpretations. In a line of people on their way to Hell on the occasion of the Last Judgment, the peasant woman (Fig. 5.2) is recognizable only, but still very clearly, by her straw hat. This was one of the most relevant signs for recognizing peasants, particularly when they were not portrayed in connection with rural work. Similarly, it might have been very evident from a single sign that the representation showed a “false” peasant. A woman working in the fields (Fig. 5.3) who possessed virtually every legitimate attribute of her peasant rank must have still become a caricature when she was portrayed wearing pointed shoes. And even if everything was meant to be correct – when, for example, the “Good Regime” was visualized by showing peasants laboring (Fig. 5.4) – the picture must be reanalyzed with the knowledge that an ideal was being presented with all its possible attributes, from cleanliness to a general view of perfection symbolized by the absence of any sign of disorder. Again, “reality” might be lacking.

Fig. 5.3. Satirical image of a peasant woman with pointed shoes A codex of mixed content, Calendar, Labours of the months, August (detail, fol. 7v), South German or Austrian master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1475 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 7v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

73 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 5.4. Idealized peasants as part of the “Good Regime” Castello di Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquila, Cycle of the months, August (detail), Lombardian or Bohemian master, wall painting, after 1400 (Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Some further examples may illustrate these points more clearly. One of the problems of research into the material culture of medieval peasants is their dress. Although written and pictorial sources sometimes are quite rich, archaeological evidence has often been lacking. We are, on the one hand, confronted with detailed literary descriptions of the clothing of certain peasants who were trying to escape their social class. This is particularly true for the period from the thirteenth century onward. Such descriptions of peasant dress cannot be seen in any way as real, but rather must be interpreted as a pattern of a general warning to others not to abandon the system of society; or as an effort to attack political adversaries by comparing them with fictionally disobedient peasants.14 Those descriptions of dress, therefore, may sometimes be

14 Ursula Liebertz-Grün, Seifried Helbling: Satiren kontra Habsburg (Munich: Beck, 1981), esp. 67-9; Hans-Dieter Mück, “Oswald von Wolkensteins Liedpropaganda gegen die hoffärtigen Bauern,” Der Schlern 60 (1986), 330-43; Gerhard Jaritz, “Realienkunde der bäuerlichen Welt des Spätmittelalters: Zum Aussagewert von Bildquellen, Schriftzeugnissen und Ergebnissen der Wüstungsarchäologie,” in Mittelalterliche Wüstungen in Niederösterreich, Studien und Forschungen aus dem Niederösterreichischen Institut für Landeskunde 6 (Vienna: Niederösterreichisches Institut für Landeskunde, 1983), 180-2. For

74 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages useful for reconstructing the clothing of knights, the attitudes against indecency in connection with dress, or the general importance of clothes in medieval society for classifying and recognizing people. But they can never be used as evidence for a general image of “real” peasant dress, even if we assume that peasants – like members of any other social group in the Middle Ages – tried to draw themselves closer to the higher social classes, particularly by using certain characteristics of dress. Similar problems may occur when we use regulations governing dress or sumptuary laws concerning peasants. They show the law, the normative side of life. Although peasants may have been the direct recipients, the interpretation of these laws still involves many uncertainties. We usually cannot determine the extent to which the law was obeyed or disobeyed. What we are able to prove, though, are sometimes significant changes in the laws that evidently corresponded to changes in reality. Some Austrian and south German examples may be given. The so-called “Seifried Helbling,” a poet of the thirteenth century, referred to a (fictitious?) dress regulation of Duke Leopold V of Austria, who ordered peasants to use only coarse gray woollen cloth for their garments.15 Only on Sundays and other feast days were they permitted to wear coarse blue woollen cloth. The first part of this regulation obviously describes simple peasant work clothing, reaching to the knees, which can be seen in hundreds of pictures and illuminations of the Middle Ages. The color “gray” meant a natural, undyed color. The blue of the Sunday clothing, although dyed, was a cheap color. The so-called

some descriptions of such extravagant peasant dress in literary sources, see Sieghilde Benatzky, “Österreichische Kultur- und Gesellschaftsbilder des 13. Jahrhunderts auf Grund zeit- gebundener Dichtungen (Seifried Helbling und Meier Helmbrecht),” unpublished Phil. Diss., Vienna, 1963, 134-51 (though with no critical interpretation); Ulrike Lehmann-Langholz, Kleiderkritik in mittelalterlicher Dichtung: Der Arme Hartmann, Heinrich “von Melk,” Neidhart, Wernher der Gartenaere und ein Ausblick auf die Stellungnahmen spätmittelalterlicher Dichter, Europäische Hochschulschriften ser 1, vol. 885 (Frankfurt and New York: Peter Lang, 1985), passim; Gabriele Raudszus, Die Zeichensprache der Kleidung: Untersuchungen zur Symbolik des Gewandes in der deutschen Epik des Mittelalters, Ordo: Studien zur Literatur und Gesellschaft des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit 1 (Hildesheim and New York: Olms, 1985), esp. 158-70 and passim. 15 Joseph Seemüller (ed.), Seifried Helbling (Halle: Waisenhaus, 1886; reprint Hildesheim and New York: Olms, 1987), 69, II, vv. 70-5.

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Kaiserchronik of the mid-twelfth century refers to a fictitious law of Charlemagne ordering peasants to wear gray or black garments and to use not more than seven ells of cloth for a shirt and breeches, the latter to be made of coarse linen cloth.16 Again, a minimum is specified. In the Bavarian Landfrieden of 1244, we find a regulation that peasants must wear only cheap gray clothing.17 Only peasants who had an official position were allowed to wear a better type of garment. Evidence from almost three hundred years later offers a different image. In 1518, regulations were published for Austria that contain rather detailed remarks on dress.18 Peasants again were placed at the low end of the hierarchy, but they were not restricted to the cheapest cloth nor to cheap colors. Now the maximum price for cloth was one guilder per ell. Gold, pearls, velvet, and silk were explicitly prohibited. No regulation of the thirteenth century would have found it necessary to deal with gold, pearls, velvet, or silk with regard to peasants. Such references are found only in satirical literature. To treat them factually would have been unimaginable. But at the beginning of the sixteenth century they apparently had to be mentioned. Moreover, something very important became actual – at least normative – reality: peasant women were allowed half an ell of silk to use for the hem of their dresses. And everyone was permitted to use London cloth (“lindisches Tuch”), which meant that peasants could as well. This was not cloth produced in and imported from London, which it might have been three hundred years before, but rather something that was produced locally, in the style of “London cloth.” Still, we may suppose that it was rather special for the lower classes of the social hierarchy, who were no longer restricted to the cheapest coarse woollen cloth. Changes had taken place. A rather general development may be assumed, at least from the evidence of the normative sources. More accurate regional trends, though, are still very difficult to grasp. Some other elements have to be added to our interpretation. We particularly must consider the difference between work days and Sundays or feast days. The work clothes that peasants wore do not seem to have changed

16 Franz (ed.), Quellen, 220 (n. 82). 17 Ibidem, 326-7 (n. 122). 18 Hartmann J. Zeibig, “Der Ausschuss-Landtag der gesammten österreichischen Erblande zu Innsbruck 1518,” Archiv für österreichische Geschichte 13 (1854), 254.

76 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages significantly over many centuries.19 The coarse (woollen) robe reaching to the knees, either undyed or a cheap color, can be accepted as reality for the whole of the Middle Ages. Many illustrations of the Labors of the Months show such a garment.20 The garments worn on Sundays and feast days, however, were different. There we may find, or at least might suppose, rather important changes through the centuries. The permitted use of silk, even if only for hems, is a very relevant change. Problems with regard to public rivalry with people of higher social rank might have arisen. Such dress might have threatened other groups in society. Sources that bear a higher degree of “reality” support the occurrence of such a development in a rather impressive way. Appliqués, buttons, and belt buckles made of copper or sometimes even silver were used on the clothing of Burgundian peasants as early as the fourteenth century,21 and were found in inventories of Hungarian peasants and in archaeological investigations of Hungarian villages in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.22 Hungarian inventories show that peasants possessed one or two Sunday suits of clothes, often made of more expensive cloth, in different colors. They also wore furs (particularly sheepskin and fox). These Sunday clothes were not much different from the clothes worn by members of higher social classes. Moreover, the discovery, in some archaeological finds, of silver threads in what are apparently peasants’ clothes leads us into a milieu that seems neither exclusively rural nor peasant-like. The possibility of using a large quantity of sources – as Françoise Piponnier was able to do with Burgundian inventories23 – is very rare in

19 For some changes, see Perrine Mane, “Émergence du vêtement de travail à travers l’iconographie médiévale,” in Le Vêtement: Histoire, archéologie et symbolique vestimentaires au moyen âge, ed. Michel Pastoureau (Paris: Cahiers du Léopard d’Or, 1989), 93-122. 20 Wilhelm Hansen, Kalenderminiaturen der Stundenbücher: Mittelalterliches Leben tm Jahveslauf (Munich: Georg D. W. Callwey, 1984). 21 Françoise Piponnier, “La qualité de la vie en milieu rural: exemples bourguignons,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 277-90. 22 András Kubinyi, “Bäuerlicher Alltag im spätmittelalterlichen Ungarn,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 245-50. 23 Piponnier, “La qualité,” 289; Monique Closson, Perrine Mane, and Françoise Piponnier, “Le costume paysan au moyen âge: Sources et méthodes,” Ethnographie (1984), 302-7. Concerning Normandy, see Jean Glénisson and John

77 Gerhard Jaritz the rural environment. An investigation of 150 inventories of peasants’ possessions in the fourteenth century – which evidently did not include rich peasants – shows a more modest situation than the one known for Hungary at the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century. Simple clothes predominate, comparable to those in illustrations of working peasants. The same is true for their color, which we already know from normative sources to be blue. But again, generalizations are dangerous. The inventories of apparently impoverished members of the lower nobility, for example, from Franconia at the beginning of the sixteenth century,24 show that at least in some cases their possessions, including clothing but excepting a few typical and commonly used luxury objects, could not have been too far from peasant culture or, rather, from the stereotype of the peasant situation. But we are still confronted with results from very different types of sources. General comparisons on this level still seem to be problematic. Let us summarize our discussion of peasant dress and ask whether we can find similar situations and tendencies in other areas of rural life. First, the stereotype of the simple dress of medieval peasants seems to be more or less true for work clothes, which apparently did not change significantly during the centuries of the Middle Ages. Second, generalizations about peasants forgetting or ignoring their social class by wearing clothing that would characterize them as members of the aristocracy are literary fictions. We cannot conclude that such remarks in literary sources prove a particular or stronger tendency of the peasants in certain periods to try to escape their low position in the hierarchy. Comparisons with sources pertaining to other social groups in medieval society again and again show similar efforts to use dress to imitate or even to attain a higher rank in the social hierarchy. It is by no means typical of peasants. Third, in connection with that phenomenon, peasants can be seen as substitutes for other persons or groups in society

Day (ed.), Textes et documents a histoire du moyen âge, XIVe-XVe siècles, 2: Les Structures agraires (Paris: Société d’Édition d’Enseignement Supérieur, 1977), 264-6. 24 Werner Endres, “Adelige Lebensformen in Franken im Spätmittelalter,” in Adelige Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 5, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Kl. 400 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1982), 88.

78 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages that are the targets of criticism. The peasant is to some extent being used in their place. Fourth, all this does not mean that the tendency of peasants to aspire to higher social classes, at least by adopting their dress, is completely fictitious or generally less than in other social groups. Particularly with regard to the clothing worn on Sundays and feast days we may assume such a development, one that can be supported particularly by the change in regulations concerning dress. Finally, in regard to the sources, we cannot directly compare or commingle the contents of literary sources about the luxurious peasant and some singular remarks in other sources showing “realistic” situations (inventories, and so on) with respect to elaborate rural Sunday clothes. Both can exist side by side without necessarily being connected to each other. Such connections have been emphasized too much in some historical research of the past, and attempts have been made to connect “images” with “realities” too forcefully, so that both – “image” and “reality” – illegitimately lost their relevance and independence. Tendencies similar to those mentioned above can be seen if we consider diet. One cliché about peasants in the Middle Ages is that they ate only grain products, dark bread, and vegetables – particularly cabbage, turnips, beans, and peas – and drank water. Again, such a generalized stereotype occurs not in more or less reliable contemporary medieval descriptions of rural life, but rather in sources dealing with exceptional situations. We find it in literary descriptions concerning the question of what would or should be adequate for a peasant’s sustenance, often accompanied by the criticism that this standard had been seriously ignored. On the other hand, we see it also when members of the upper classes were confronted by hunger. Famine forced even people in the higher ranks to eat dark bread, grain pulps, and vegetables, and to drink water. That kind of diet, as is sometimes explicitly emphasized, was supposed to be peasant food and drink and on one occasion was considered fit only for the enemy.25 Peasants and the stereotypes of their

25 Theodor von Karajan (ed.), Michael Beheims Buch von den Wienern, 1462-1465 (Vienna: P. Rohrmann, 1843), 128-9, in which the young Maximilian, the later emperor, is said to have complained about the lack of food during the siege of Vienna in 1462: Maximilian had to be content with barley and peas, and did not get any meat. This was not adequate to his rank, and such food should rather have been given to the enemies. See Gerhard Jaritz, “Der Einfluß der politischen Verhältnisse auf die Entwicklung der Alltagskultur im spätmittelalterlichen

79 Gerhard Jaritz material culture again are used to make an extraordinary situation understandable, to exaggerate, and to arouse emotion. Peasants are used to represent a certain pattern in situations that might not actually have touched them in any way. Once again, particularly in literary sources, peasants are described as trying to flee from their modest milieu, desiring to ignore the (food) regulations for their class. Again we find the stereotypical image of peasants – especially at festivities – being extravagant, eating and drinking heavily, and so on.26 The normative sources do not emphasize such a trend. They do sometimes regulate, as for other groups of society, the number of guests and courses to be served at special occasions, particularly at wedding or baptism banquets.27 In literary sources, it is assumed that meat is not often served at peasant tables. Archaeological investigations have shown a very small number of animal bones at some excavated medieval (deserted) village sites, but, of course, the situation varied locally.28 This does not mean, however, that peasants never ate meat. Regulations concerning villeinage or labor services for the lord sometimes state that peasants and rural workers received meat regularly from their lords, though apparently in relatively small amounts, for example a piece of meat in boiled cabbage.29 Cabbage with meat, though, was not typically or exclusively peasant food but could also be found at upper-class tables. At an eleven-course dinner given for a Venetian legation by the archbishop of Salzburg in 1492, cabbage with pork seems to have occupied a suitable place as the sixth course of that very exclusive meal.30

Österreich,” in Bericht über den sechzelnten österreichischen Historikertag, Veröftentlichungen des Verbandes Österreichischer Geschichtsvereine 24 (Vienna: Verband Österreichischer Geschichtsvereine, 1985), 529. 26 Benatzky, “Österreichische Kultur- und Gesellschaftsbilder,” 16-25. 27 See, for example, Gerhard Jaritz, “Zur materiellen Kultur der Steiermark im Zeitalter der Gotik,” in Gotik in der Steiermark, Ausstellungskatalog (Graz: Kulturreferat der Steiermärkischen Landesregierung, 1978), 42. 28 See, for example, Vladimír Nekuda, “Mährische Wüstungen als Quelle spätmittelalterlichen Dorflebens,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 211. 29 See, for example, Jaritz, “Zur materiellen Kultur,” 41. 30 Helmut Hundsbichler, “Stadtbegriff, Stadtbild und Stadtleben des 15. Jahrhunderts nach ausländischen Berichterstattern über Österreich,” in Das Leben in der Stadt des Spätmittelalters, Veröftentlichungen des Instituts für

80 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

A “real” and, moreover, general situation again seems difficult to reconstruct even though some results have been obtained from archacological investigations. Systematic studies of the rich sources for Italy have been conducted and may furnish results that are lacking for other regions in Europe.31 Massimo Montanari, for example, was able to prove that the diet of Italian peasants was in fact dominated by grain (bread) and vegetables, but he also strongly warned against generalizations. There were villages where meat was eaten regularly, and these cannot be seen as exceptional, but rather as different cases resulting from different economic situations and developments.32 Nevertheless, the stereotypical image of the peasant living predominantly on bread, grain, and vegetables in many cases can be shown to be correct. On the other hand, if we read a fifteenth-century text concerning the inhabitants of the region of Styria (in Austria) that says:

Sy haben ze essen ain gutten prein, Und dar auff trinken ain guten wein, fleysch, ayr und prots genug […]. (They have enough millet-gruel to eat, they have enough wine to drink and enough meat, eggs and bread […].)33

We are confronted with something that was meant to characterize a rural population and at the same time to show an ideal image – mainly by the mention of wine and meat and by the word “enough.” This contradicts the images of peasant food mentioned earlier, which were used in situations where comparisons with other social classes were being mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 2, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Kl. 325 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1977), 129. 31 Massimo Montanari, L’alimentazione contadina nell’alto Medioevo, Nuovo Medioevo 11 (Naples: Liguori, 1979); Anna Maria Nada Patrone, Il cibo del ricco ed il cibo del povero: Contributo alla storia qualitativa dell’alimentazione – l’area pedemontana negli ultimi secoli del Medioevo, Biblioteca di Studi Piemontesi 10 (Torino: Centro Studi Piemontesi, 1981). 32 Massimo Montanari, “Rural Food in Late Medieval Italy,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur, 316-20. Also see Massimo Montanari, The Culture of Food, trans. Carl Ipsen (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1994). 33 Anton Schönbach, “Steirisches Scheltgedicht wider die Baiern,” Vierteljahrschrift für Literaturgeschichte 2 (1889), 326-7.

81 Gerhard Jaritz made or where poverty was being emphasized. We also know for certain that the “ideal” of drinking water is generally fictitious and that every effort must have been made to change to wine, cider, or beer. A number of sources show that, particularly on Sunday, peasants regularly visited inns, often run by the parish priest himself.34 Peasants drank wine in the parsonage after the Sunday service,35 a habit that was prohibited in Styria, in 1445, by the later emperor Frederick III.36 Sermons lamented the habit of drinking wine before the service,37 and a satirical poem written sometime after 1400 stated:

Als pald daz selb ein end hat sy eilend aus der chirchen drat, zu dem wein stet in der sinn da habent sew ein pesseren gewinn […]. (After the end (of the Sunday service) they (the peasants) hurry out of church, they are in the mood for drinking wine by that they think to have better profit […].)38

These texts lead us again to one of the main differences that must be considered in our investigations of “image” and “reality”: working days and Sundays or feast days or other special days (for example, when the peasants worked in their lords’ fields). As we have already emphasized when dealing with dress, we must stress once more that work days and Sundays can mean two very different situations. In talking about topoi, stereotypes, “images,” and “reality,” we must never forget this characteristic polarity.

34 For this and the following, see Jaritz, “Zur materiellen Kultur,” 41-2. 35 Angeli Rumpleri, abbatis Formbacensis ..., “Historia inclyti monasterii,” in Bernardus Pez, Thesaurus anecdotorum novissimus I/III (Augsburg and Graz, 1721), col. 479 (for the year 1502). 36 Burkhard Seuffert and Gottfriede Kogler (eds.), Die ältesten steirischen Landtagsakten 1396-1519, vol. 1, Quellen zur Verfassungs- und Verwaltungsgeschichte der Steiermark 3 (Graz: Stiasny, 1953), 107. 37 Anton Schönbach, “Miszellen aus Grazer Handschriften, 12: Der Prediger von St. Lambrecht,” Beitrage zur Kunde steiermärkischer Geschichtsquellen 33, NF 1 (1903), 88. 38 Graz, University Library, Cod. 1017, fol. 108v.

82 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

The role of feast days in peasant life is characterized by one type of picture that is very significant for rural areas in virtually all of Europe, particularly in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries: the representation of “Christ of the Trades.”39 Mainly seen in frescoes situated on the outer walls of village churches, they often show a very large number of tools and other objects signifying the different types of agricultural work, or they show the work itself (Fig. 5.5). Designed to motivate their beholders to abstain from work on Sundays and feast days, these pictures offer a very large array of recognizable objects that were known and used by peasants. In depicting so many objects, these representations certainly do not reflect “reality” as a whole, but rather a large number of singular “realities” that are combined in order to motivate not only by the mere appearance of the well-known objects but also by their quantity. Nevertheless, these images contain comparatively dense information on the material culture of peasant work in the late Middle Ages. Dealing with single objects out of such a spectrum requires careful analysis of context dependencies, the aim of the images, the role of the beholders, and certain local characteristics.

39 Edgar Breitenbach and Thea Hillmann, “Das Gebot der Feiertagsheiligung, ein spätmittelalterliches Bildthema im Dienste volkstümlicher Pfarrpraxis,” Anzeiger für schweizerische Altertumskunde NF 39 (1937), 23-36; Robert Wildhaber, “Der ‘Feiertagschristus’ als ikonographischer Ausdruck der Sonntagsheiligung,” Zeitschrift für schweizerische Archäologie und Kunstgeschichte 16 (1956), 1-34; Wildhaber, “Feiertagschristus,” Reallexikon zur deutschen Kunstgeschichte 7 (Munich: Alfred Druckenmüller, 1981), cols. 1002-10.

83 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 5.5. The stigmatized Christ with the different types of agricultural tools around him Christ of the Trades or “Holiday Christ” with all the forbidden activities on Sundays or on holidays (detail), southern outer wall of the village parish church, wall painting, 1465 (Saak/Nötsch im Gailtal, Carinthia, St Kanzian parish church; photo: © Johann Jaritz, 2007)

84 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 5.6. The Midianites destroy the fields of Israel The harvest by Isaac in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 26v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308–before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 26v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg. Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 26v)

A typical example of these kinds of problems may be given from another context. The harvesting of grain was regularly done with a sickle. Use of the medieval type of scythe meant an immense loss of grain. In the so-called Kaiserchronik of the twelfth century, the use of a scythe for mowing grain is called an act of madness.40 Therefore, a picture like that shown in Fig. 5.6, from the mid-fourteenth century, must make us suspicious. We cannot be satisfied by just describing it or even stating that the image represents one of the earliest examples of the use of the

40 Edward Schröder (ed.), Die Kaiserchronik eines Regensburger Geistlichen, MGH Deutsche Chroniken 1 (Hannover: Hahn, 1895; reprint Dublin: Weidmann, 1969), 282, v. 10978; see also Ulrich Bentzien, Bauernarbeit im Feudalismus: Landwirtschaftliche Arbeitsgeräte und -verfahren in Deutschland von der Mitte des ersten Jahrtausends u. Z. bis um 1800, Veröffentlichungen zur Volkskunde und Kulturgeschichte 67 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1980), 74.

85 Gerhard Jaritz scythe for mowing grain. We have to ask what the context is. And here the context solves many problems. This picture’s “reality” had a very special aim: to show a negative and reprehensible deed and, in that way, to arouse feeling. The depicted scene is the destruction of the fields of Israel by the Midianites (Judges 6: 1-4). And how could this destruction be made clear? The horses are eating the grain; the enemies – the Midianites – are using scythes to mow it. In this way, the loss of grain is shown: an act that would certainly have been understood by a medieval audience.41 Everyone would see at first glance that something was wrong. Image and reality, therefore, could and still can be understood only if one is equipped with certain previous knowledge. This also holds true for quite a number of other tools and objects related to agricultural work. As we have already emphasized, the archaeological evidence may offer much more accurate and “realistic” evidence than any other source. Nevertheless, to avoid erroneous conclusions we must be very careful and must concentrate, for example, on omissions in the archaeological evidence. The phenomenon that iron objects have seldom been found in excavations of late medieval deserted villages may serve as an example. Knowing the high cost of iron in many areas of Europe, we might conclude that few iron objects were used. We also must consider – and this seems more relevant – that people who left their village, for whatever reason, undoubtedly tried to take with them everything that was expensive or seemed to be of value.42 Iron objects were expensive items. In using archaeological evidence, therefore, we must bear in mind that the excavated objects were of course used by medieval people, but that such evidence cannot lead to a complete and general image. Very significant parts of life cannot be traced or related to other parts. The frequency of use of certain objects is a particularly difficult question, and our knowledge must remain fragmentary.

41 Jaritz, “Realienkunde,” 174-6. 42 See, for example, Vladimír Nekuda, Pfaffenschlag: Zaniklá středověká ves u Slavonic – Prispévek k dějinám středověké vesnice [Pfaffenschlag: A Medieval Deserted Village near Slavonice – A Contribution to the History of the Village in the Middle Ages] (Brno: Moravské Muzeum, 1975), 134-5 and 257.

86 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 5.7. A “village” type The execution of St Catherine, the wheel miracle (detail), Hans Egkel (died 1496), Danube school, panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Melk, Lower Austria, Stiftsmuseum/Benediktinerstift; © Stift Melk, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

A final example based on pictorial sources points up some additional problems of analysis. Descriptions of houses and medieval villages in the written sources occur much less frequently than remarks or treatises about peasant dress or food or festivities. Again, archaeological sources are of major importance. If we use additional pictorial evidence,43 we must consider the possibility that it was not necessarily a real village that might have been important, but just the type “village.”44 In a scene of the legend of Saint Catherine we find, in the distant background, the

43 Sarah M. McKinnon, “The Peasant House: The Evidence of Manuscript Illumination,” in Pathways to Medieval Peasants, 301-9. 44 Concerning this problem of the use of types in medieval and early modern pictorial sources, see, for example, Elisabeth Rücker, Die Schedelsche Weltchronik: Das größte Buchunternehmen der Dürer-Zeit (Munich: Prestel, 1973), esp. 48-77. For the following, see Jaritz, “Realienkunde,” 158-64; Carsten-Peter Warncke, Sprechende Bilder, sichtbare Worte: Das Bildverständnis in der frühen Neuzeit, Wolfenbütteler Forschungen 33 (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1987), 64-80.

87 Gerhard Jaritz depiction of a late medieval village (Fig. 5.7). Everyone looking at the picture, in the Middle Ages as well as today, would have recognized it as a village. The question is to what extent such a picture can be used as local evidence, in this case for late medieval Lower Austria, where the picture was painted for the Benedictine monastery of Melk in the 1480s. The problem is solved when we come upon an engraving by Martin Schongauer, who worked in Alsace, titled “On the Way to the Market” (Fig. 5.8). There, in the background, we find our village. It was not a real Lower Austrian village that was the model for the Melk picture, but an engraving of Schongauer’s. Moreover, in the Weltchronik of Hartmann Schedel, printed in Nuremberg in 1493, when we look at pictures showing Poland, Lithuania, and northern Italy (“Welschland”), we notice first that all three depictions are identical, and then we recognize our Schongauer village (Fig. 5.9). It was not the local evidence (which was lacking) that was important, but only the type.

Fig. 5.8. The model of the “village” Peasant family going to market (detail), Martin Schongauer (1450/1453–1491), engraving on laid paper, around 1470/1475 (Washingon, D.C., National Gallery of Art; © NGA, photo: www.metmuseum.org)

88 The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages

Fig. 5.9. Another copy of the “village” Nuremberg Chronicle / Liber Chronicarum (details, fol. 263r – Poland, fol. 278r – Lithuania, fol. 258v – Welschland), Hartmann Schedel (1440–1514), illustrations by Michael Wolgemut and Wilhelm Pleydenwurff, early print with coloured woodcuts, Nuremberg: Anton Koberger, 1493 (Weimar, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Inc. 119; photo: Hartmann Schedel: Weltchronik. Kolorierte Gesamtausgabe von 1493. (Nachdruck der “Weltchronik” des Exemplars der Stiftung Weimarer Klassik, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Sign. Inc. 119). Einleitung und Kommentar von Stephan Füssel. Köln: Taschen Verlag, 2001, fol. 263r)

We have tried to show that our comprehension of “reality” often may not be the right one for analyzing peasant life. Rather, we need another, much more open and broader “image,” or let us say a “medieval reality” designed to enable those who experienced it to understand, recognize, become informed, be moved emotionally, be influenced. Of major

89 Gerhard Jaritz importance was the “type” – of a village, of a good or bad peasant, of peasant dress, or of peasant food. We are confronted with a number of different or equivalent “images”; we also are confronted with a number of different or equivalent “realities,” with a number of different or equivalent attitudes toward peasants. All of them depend on context. To attain a kind of context sensitivity, to try to understand those contexts and in that way “images,” “realities,” and attitudes, we must increase our knowledge – a knowledge comparable to that of medieval people, particularly a knowledge of signs. As we gain success in some aspects, we should then be better able to comprehend “images,” “realities,” and attitudes. If they contradict one another, we should not wonder but rather ask why such a contradiction might have been necessary or useful to medieval people. To admire the peasants and at the same time to condemn them, instead of being strictly contradictory, seems, as I have tried to emphasize, to have been rather normal. Sources on material culture and everyday life are one of the most important types of evidence for showing such phenomena regularly and clearly. Many aspects still may seem strange, even to historians. In many ways we cannot rid ourselves of our cultural filters. Particularly with regard to “image” and “reality” we must resist the fact that we are accustomed to know, or, better, accustomed to believe that we know, so much about truth and about what is real and what is false. Being confronted with the more or less fuzzy sets of sources on the material culture of medieval peasantry, such attitudes may hinder our work.

- 6 -

“Young, Rich and Beautiful”: The Visualization of Male Beauty in the Late Middle Ages*

The phenomenon of human beauty played a decisive role in medieval society. Evidence that proves useful for the historian can be traced particularly in narrative and literary sources. Already in the nineteenth century, and mainly concerning France, research interests concentrated on this problem.1 The emphasis was put on the description of female,

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “’Young, Rich and Beautiful’: The Visualization of Male Beauty in the Late Middle Ages,” in The Man of Many Devices, Who Wandered Full Many Ways. Festschrift in Honor of János M. Bak, ed. Balázs Nagy, Marcell Sebők (Budapest: CEU Press, 1999), 61-77. 1 See, e.g., Alwin Schultz, “Quid de perfecta corporis humani pulchritudine germani saeculi XII et XIII senserint,” Dissertatio ad docendi veniam impetrandam (Vratislaviae, 1866); Alwign Schultz, Das höfische Leben zur Zeit der Minnesinger, vol. 1, reprint, (Osnabrück: Otto Zeller, 1965), 211-21; Jules Houdoy, La beauté des femmes dans la littérature et dans l’art du 12e au 16e siècle. Analyse du livre de A. Nyphus: Du beau et de l’amour (Paris: Aubry, 1876), referring to Augustinus Niphus, Libri duo, de pulchro primus, de amore secundus (Lugduni: Godefridus et Marcellus Beringi fratres, 1549) (cf. the edition De pulchro et amore libri (Lugduni Batavorum: David Lopes de Haro, 1641); Jean Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit bei den altfranzösischen Dichtern des XII. und XIII. Jahrhunderts” (Phil. Diss. Friedrichs-Universität Halle Wittenberg) (Halle a. S., 1890); Oskar Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hasslichkeit in den altfranzösischen chansons de geste” (Phil. Diss. Universität Marburg) (Marburg, 1891). See also Arthur Weese, Der schöne Mensch in Mittelalter und Renaissance (Munich: Hirth 1900), 2nd ed., (Miinchen, 1922); Anna Koehn, Das weibliche Schönheitsideal in der ritterlichen Dichtung (Leipzig: Eichblatt, 1930); Walter Clyde Curry, The Middle English Ideal of Personal Beauty; as Found in the Metrical Romances, Chronicles and Legends of the XIII, XIV, and XV Centuries (New York: AMS Press 1972); Theo Stemmler (ed.), Schöne Frauen – schöne Männer: literarische Schönheitsbeschreibungen (Tübingen: Narr, 1988), with a number of articles referring to the Middle Ages: Gerold Hilty, “Schönheitsbeschreibung in spanischen Texten des 13. Jahrhunderts,” 77-88; Rupprecht Rohr, “Die Schönheit des Menschen in der mittelalterlichen

Gerhard Jaritz but also of male beauty in literary sources, especially from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. This contribution intends to concentrate on the field of male beauty and its visualization in late medieval, mainly Austrian art. Physical beauty was seen as very much linked with the status of a person, his or her nature and character, attributes and abilities. External appearance was created by God and could become the material sign of inner qualities. A very explicit connection, for instance, was stressed by Thomas Aquinas who compared pulchritudo exterior sive corporis with pulchritudo interior sive spiritualis, both of which were determined by claritas and bonae proportiones:

[...] membra corporis bene proportionata cum quadam debiti coloris claritate [...] relate to [...] conversatio hominis sive actio eius [...] bene proportionata secundum spiritualem rationis claritatem.2

Such and similar connections and contexts were particularly used and applied in any kind of medieval textual and pictorial representations of humans, and in any connotative description of their outer appearance. The positive hero showed his corresponding quality by outer beauty, the negative enemy by his ugliness.3 Being beautiful meant being good, being

Dichtung Frankreichs,” 89-108; Klaus Ostheeren, “Zur Form und Funktion der Schönheitsbeschreibung im Mittelenglischen,” 145-70; Helmut Tervooren, “Schönheitsbeschreibung und Gattungsethik in der mittelhochdeutschen Literatur,” 171-98; Claudia Brinker, “Die Stellung der Frau: Ideal und Wirklichkeit,” in Die Manessische Liederhandschrift in Zürich. Ausstellungskatalog, ed. Claudia Brinker and Dione Flühler-Kreis (Zürich: Schweizerisches Landesmuseum, 1991), 133-47, esp. 133-5; Claudia Brinker, “Das Streben nach dem schönen Schein,” ibidem, 156-62, esp. 159 ff. 2 Quoted from Rohr, “Die Schönheit des Menschen,” 94 ff. 3 See, e.g., Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hässlichkeit,” passim; Beate Schmolke-Hasselmann, “’Camuse chose.’ Das Häßliche als ästhetisches und menschliches Problem in der altfranzösischen Literatur,” in Die Mächte des Guten und Bösen. Vorstellungen im XII. und XIII. Jahrhundert über ihr Wirken in der Heilsgeschichte, ed. Albert Zimmermann, Miscellanea Medievalia, 11 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1977), 442-52; Roy A. Wisbey, “Die Darstellung des Häßlichen im Hoch- und Spätmittelalter,” in Deutsche Literatur des späten Mittelalters. Hamburger Kolloquium 1973, ed. Wolfgang Harms and Peter L. Johnson (Berlin: Erich Schmidt Verlag, 1975), 9-34; Paul Michel, ‘Formosa deformitas’. Bewältigungsformen des Häßlichen in mittelalterlicher Literatur, Studien zur

92 “Young, Rich and Beautiful” ugly signified badness and inferiority. In reverse, it could represent aspects of the “world upside-down.”4 Particularly in medieval literature of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, physical beauty was mainly the significant characteristic of the heroic knight, representing his noble descent, his social function, his braveness, and his youth.5 A typical example is Parzeval’s beauty.6 The general pattern of a young man with long, blond, and curly hair, of light complexion, and of well-shaped body and limbs occurs ever and again. But sometimes the corresponding role of each part of the body may be relevant.7 We find one of the most detailed descriptions, reaching from eyebrows and nose to the toes, in the poem Flore und Blanscheflur (ca. 1220) by Konrad Fleck, originating from Alsace or Basel.8 The following image of the king’s son, Flore, is offered:

Germanistik, Anglistik und Komparatistik, 57 (Bonn: Bouvier Verlag Herbert Grundmann, 1976). 4 Concerning the motive of the “world upside-down” generally, see, e.g., Hedwig Kenner, Das Phänomen der verkehrten Welt in der griechisch-römischen Antike (Klagenfurt: Geschichtsverein für Kärnten, 1970); Roger Chartier and Dominique Julia, “Die verkehrte Welt,” in Roger Chartier, Die unvollendete Vergangenheit und die Macht der Weltauslegung (Berlin: Wagenbach, 1989), 73-82; Helmut Hundsbichler, “Im Zeichen der ‘verkehrten Welt’,” in Symbole des Alltags- Alltag der Symbole, ed. Gertrud Blaschitz et al. (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1992), 555-70; Christa Grössinger, The World Upside-Down. English Misericords (London: Harvey Miller Publishers, 1997). See also below. 5 See, e.g., Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” passim; Stemmler (ed.), Schöne Frauen – schöne Manner, passim; Joachim Bumke, Höfische Kultur. Literatur und Gesellschaft im hohen Mittelalter, vol. 2 (Munich: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, 1986), 396 ff. and 422-25; David Burnley, Courtliness and Literature in Medieval England (London and New York: Longman, 1998), 37-52; Constance Brittain Bouchard, ‘Strong of Body, Brave and Noble.’ Chivalry and Society in Medieval France (Ithaca: Cornell and London University Press, 1998), 131 ff. 6 See Ingrid Hahn, “Parzifals Schönheit. Zum Problem des Erkennens und Verkennens im ‘Parzifal’,” in Verbum et Signum, 2. Beiträge zur mediävistischen Bedeutungsforschung, Studien zur Semantik und Sinntradition im Mittelalter, ed. Hans Fromm et al. (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1975), 203-32. 7 Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” 29-124; Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hässlichkeit,” 29-61. 8 Wolfgang Golther (ed.), Tristan und Isolde und Flore und Blanscheflur, vol. 2 (Berlin and Stuttgart: W. Spemann, [ca. 1888]), 137-39, vv. 6813-6863; Bumke, Höfische Kultur, vol. 2, 423 ff.

93 Gerhard Jaritz

Flôre hâte scheene hâr, minre brûn danne val, unde was daz über al allez ze mâzen reit: sîn tinne wiz unde breit, aller missewende fri: cleine brâwen dâ bî, als ez sich dar zuo gezôch, niht ze nîdere noch ze hôch, nâch dem wunsche garwe, und wâren an der varwe sines hâres genôz: diu ougen lieht unde grôz, mit süezem anblicke, als sie sollten lachen dicke, daz im harte wol gezam. sin nase was im alsam nâch wunsche eben und sleht, wol geschaffen unde reht. dô schuof der natûre fliz diu wangen rôt unde wiz alsô milch unde bluot. der munt was ouch behuot aller missewende gar, staeticliche rôsenvar. gelîche zene cleine, von wîze lûhtens reine; und daz kinne sinwel; schoenen hals unde kel; sin arme starc unde lanc, sin hende sleht unde blanc, die vinger âne missewende, wol geschaffen an dem ende die nâgele luter als ein glas. sin brust wol ûferhaben was, und iedoch enmitten smal. dar zuo was er über al wol geslihtet als ein zein.

94 “Young, Rich and Beautiful”

er hâte ritterlichiu bein unde wolstânde waden, niht ze cranc noch überladen, und daz sie heizent holn fuoz. sit ich ez alles sagen muoz, der mâze zen zęhen dorfte er niemen flęhen, daz ers im besnite baz; wan diu natûre vergaz an im deheiner zierde […].9

Beauty in saints could become a visible sign of their spiritual qualities and their proximity to God.10 This motif does not occur as a regular pattern, but may be found to connote some saints positively. In the early hagiography of the seventh and eighth centuries, such a characterization is realized rather generally, with attributes like, for instance, formosus, pulcher aspectu, or vultu floridus.11 Only rarely are more detailed aspects mentioned.12

9 Flore had beautiful hair, less brown than fair, and moderately curly everywhere. His forehead was white and broad, without any fault. He had small eyebrows, as it was thereto becoming, not too low and not too high, in full perfection and in the color of his hair. His eyes were light and large, with a sweet look as if often laughing; that suited him very well. His nose was also perfectly proportioned, straight and well-shaped. Nature’s diligence had created his cheeks as red and white as milk and blood. The mouth was also without any fault, and constantly rose-colored. He had equal and small teeth shining in clear whiteness. He had a roundish chin, and a beautiful neck and throat. His arms were strong and long, his hands were straight and white, the fingers without fault, at their ends the fingernails clear as glass. His chest was elevated, but his waist was slim. Everywhere, he was straight like a reed. He had splendid legs and well-shaped calves – neither too slim nor overloaded, and he had what one calls hollow feet. To tell everything: He had ten toes for which he could not wish better shape; because nature had not forgotten any decoration of him. 10 See František Graus, Volk, Herrscher und Heiliger im Reich der Merowinger. Studien zur Hagiographie der Merowingerzeit (Prague: Nakladatelství Československé Akademie ved, 1965), 463-68: “Die Schönheit des Heiligen;” Walter Berschin, “Die Schönheit des Heiligen,” in Schöne Frauen – Schöne Männer, 69-76. 11 Graus, Volk, Herrscher und Heiliger, 464-7. 12 See below the example of the Vita of Saint Eligius.

95 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 6.1. The “beautiful” Fig. 6.2. Paris and Deiphobos Apollonius von Tyrland Aegidius Colonna (1210– Heinrich von Neustadt (13th/14th 1290): The Trojan War / century): Apollonius von Tyrland Historia Troiana (detail: Priamos (detail, fol. 4v), sends Paris and Deiphobos to Viennese master, coloured ink Paionia, fol. 56r), Viennese drawing on paper, 1467 master, Martinus Optifex, (Vienna, Österreichische coloured painting on Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2886, fol. pergamen, before 1450 4v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL (Vienna, Österreichische Krems) Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2773, fol. 56r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

96 “Young, Rich and Beautiful”

The main general aspects and characteristics of male beauty do not change during the Middle Ages. They get slightly modified, receive stronger accents and emphasis, and become supported by the development of dress.13 Particularly the “realistic” late medieval art is regularly confronting its beholders with this image.14 However, the representation of those persons and groups who are intended to be beautiful seems to become more numerous. The same is true for ugliness and any other depicted connotations: Gothic artists work with stronger emphasis on picturing classifications and their contrasts.15 In comparison to the often very detailed examples in romances and poetry, in visual images we are again confronted with a kind of generalization; eyebrows, fingernails and other similar aspects certainly cannot play the kind of role that was possible in the literary evidence. The main emphasis was put on the hair, the face, and the harmonious proportions of body and limbs. Long hair as a characteristic of high status, and thus a mark of beauty, has a long and well-known tradition since the Merovingians.16 Additionally, curls and blondness played a specific and important role in making a man handsome.17 Already Saint Eligius, in his eighth-century Vita, gerebat caesariem formosam et crinem quoque circillatam, id est long curly

13 See, e.g., Françoise Piponnier and Perrine Mane, Dress in the Middle Ages (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1997), 55-76. 14 Concerning the relation between the literary and the visual image of beauty in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, see Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” 136-40. 15 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Das Bild des ‘Negativen’ als Visualisierung der Übertretung von Ordnungen im Spätmittelalter,” Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1993), 205-13; Gerhard Jaritz, “Gut versus Böse im späten Mittelalter. Zeichensetzung und Visualisierung,” in Symbole. Zur Bedeutung der Zeichen in der Kultur. 30. Deutscher Volkskundekongreß in Karlsruhe vom 25. bis 27. September 1995, ed. Rolf Wilhelm Brednich and Heinz Schmitt (Münster, New York and Berlin: Waxmann, 1997), 135-44; Gerhard Jaritz, “Der ‘gute’ und der ‘böse’ Tote. Zur zeichen-haften Visualisierung des Leichnams im Mittelalter,” in Körper ohne Leben. Begegnung und Umgang mit Toten, ed. Norbert Stefenelli (Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 1998), 325-35. 16 See Jean Hoyoux, “Reges Criniti. Chevelures, tonsures et scalps chez les Mérovingiens,” Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 26 (1948), 479-508. 17 Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” 44-56; Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hässlichkeit,” 34 ff.

97 Gerhard Jaritz hair.18 Blondness as a typical sign of beauty and of high social status occurred, for instance, not only already in the Icelandic sagas, in the twelfth- and thirteenth-century romances, or later in Renaissance Italy, but must be seen as a rather general phenomenon in medieval Europe.19 Another part of the image is a light complexion, that again may be recognized as a generally applied and understood characteristic of beautiful people.20 In contrast to female beauty, male beauty is also determined by the domed chest, by the regularity of the legs, and by strength.21 One phenomenon that became explicitly connected with the mentioned attributes is youth. Beautiful men are almost always represented as young. In the depictions, youth is often an indispensable part of physical beauty. Young and beautiful noblemen represent one group in which the aforementioned literary pattern can be recognized. They occur in illustrations to texts (Fig. 6.1 )22 (Fig. 6.2)23 as well as in the depictions of “real” persons, mainly in the role of donors or in portraits. A typical image, that of the donor Leonhard, count of Görz (Fig. 6.3),24 fulfils all expectations: his hair, light complexion, and well-shaped body and limbs, accentuated by the very costly and fashionable clothing, correspond to the well-known pattern of “young, rich, and beautiful.” In these and many more cases, the richness, fashionableness and style of apparel, the sartorial elegance, support the message.25 In other examples the

18 Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores rerum Merovingicarum IV, 678; Graus, Volk, Herrscher und Heiliger, 466. 19 See, E. F. Podach, “Haarfarbe und Stand. Ein aktualistischer Beitrag zur Ethnologie des Schönen,” Tribus. Jahrbuch des Linden-Museums NF 2/3 (1952/53), 104-24. 20 Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” 64-72 and 113-5; Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hässlichkeit,” 31-4. 21 Loubier, “Das Ideal der männlichen Schönheit,” 101-11; Bumke, Höfische Kultur, vol. 2, 424; Rohr, “Die Schönheit des Menschen,” 97. 22 For instance, Heinrich von Neustadt, Apollonius von Tyrland (Vienna, 1467), Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2886. 23 Or Aegidius Colonna, The Trojan War, Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2773. 24 Depicted on the “Death of the Virgin” fresco in the Tyrolean Lienz, Schloß Bruck, Dreifaltigkeitskapelle. He was born in 1465. 25 Cf. Burnley, Courtliness and Literature, 50; Bouchard, Strong of Body, 131.

98 “Young, Rich and Beautiful” representation of fitness to fight and strength take over or add to this function26 (Fig. 6.4).27 If the male members of a whole noble family were depicted, beauty could become the characteristic of all its members. In a Lower Austrian example of a painted epitaph (Fig. 6.5),28 the nobleman Kaspar Roggendorfer is depicted as a young and beautiful armored man. The hair and faces of his five male children bear the same signs of noble male beauty, but they are dressed as students. Typical for the period of the fifteenth century is that these patterns were no longer restricted to members of the nobility but also occurred in upper-class burgher families, office-holders, and so on (Fig. 6.6) who, that way, showed their closeness to noble descent.29 To the lower aristocratic family of the Winklers, in the 1420s, a son, Florian, was born.30 He is mentioned from 1469 to 1472 as the commander of a mercenary army of Emperor Frederick III. In about 1476, Florian Winkler bought a house in the Lower Austrian Wiener Neustadt, and became burgher of the town. He died in 1477. In the same year, an epitaph for him was painted and put above his grave in the cathedral of Wiener Neustadt (Fig. 6.7).31 The portrayal of Florian shows him in full armor and of a singular beauty matching the standard patterns. At the time of his death, he must have been more than fifty years old; but he was still shown as a young and handsome man. External beauty accentuating youth was clearly used to make his exceptional importance during his lifetime visible.

26 Additionally, a “catalogue” of knightly arms might join the literary or visual description; see Ostheeren, “Zu Form und Funktion der Schönheits- beschreibung,” 152 ff. 27 For instance, the noble donor Wolfgang Arndorfer in armor depicted on a stained glass-window in the church of Neukirchen am Ostrong (Lower Austria). 28 He is depicted with his five male children on the Coronation of the Virgin panel in the castle chapel of Rosenburg. 29 Cf. the architect who builds the Austin Canon abbey of Klosterneuburg, Vienna, Österreichische Galerie, Inv. no. 4875. 30 Concerning Florian Winkler, see Gertrud Gerhartl, “Florian Winkler, ein kaiserlicher Söldnerführer und Bürger der mittelalterlichen Stadt Wiener Neustadt,” Festschrift zum 70. Geburtstag von Karl Lechner / Jahrbuch für Landeskunde von Niederösterreich NF 37 (1965-1967), 119-48. 31 Epitaph of Florian Winkler from 1477, Wiener Neustadt, Stadtmuseum.

99 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 6.3. The “beautiful” donor, Count Leonhard of Görz (born in 1468) Death of the Virgin fresco in his castle chapel (detail), South-Tyrolian master, wall painting, end of the fifteenth century (Lienz, East-Tyrol, Schloss Bruck, Holy Trinity chapel; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

100 “Young, Rich and Beautiful”

Fig. 6.4. The armoured Wolfgang Arndorfer The noble donator, Wolfgang Arndorfer praying (detail), stained glass window, around 1495 (Neukirchen am Ostrong, Lower Austria, Virgin Mary parish and pilgrimage church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 6.5. Kaspar Roggendorfer on his epitaph, depicted with his five sons Coronation of the Virgin Mary panel in his castle chapel (detail), Lower Austrian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1493 (Rosenburg, Lower Austria, Burgkapelle; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

101 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 6.6. The architect who builds the Austin canon abbey of Klosterneuburg The construction of Klosterneuburg (detail), master of the Viennese Heiligenmartyrien, panel painting, tempera on wood, end-fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Inv. no. 4875; © ÖG Belvedere, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 6.7. The young and beautiful imperial soldier Florian Winkler in armour kneeling on his epitaph Florian Winkler’s epitaph, Lower Austrian master of the Winkler- epitaph, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1477 (Wiener Neustadt, Stadtmuseum, Inv. no. B15; © WNSM, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

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Fig. 6.8. Emperor Frederick III Wappenbuch (detail, fol. 23v), Tyrolean master (?), pen and ink drawing on paper, last quarter of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. n. 12820, fol. 23v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 6.9. Emperor Frederick III as St Sebastian St Florian and St Sebastian panel (detail), Styrian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1480 (Obdach, Styria, Our Lady hospital filial church; photo: © H. Maurer, 2009)

This emphasis on youthfulness was certainly also particularly applied in the depictions of princes and rulers. One of many earlier, thirteenth- century examples is the gravestone of Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony and Bavaria (born ca. 1129), in the cathedral of Braunschweig. Henry, who had died in 1195 at the age of sixty-five, is portrayed in almost youthful beauty, without wrinkles, with long and slightly curly hair; he

103 Gerhard Jaritz wears costly clothes.32 Similar tendencies can also be found in portraits of rulers who were still alive. Two of a number of examples with regard to Emperor Frederick III (born 1415) may be mentioned. In a most probably Tyrolean Wappenbuch from the last quarter of the fifteenth century,33 we find, for instance, a depiction of Frederick (Fig. 6.8) that shows him definitely as a rather young ruler with light complexion, long and curly hair, and richly dressed, id est with the obvious signs of his beauty. In a Styrian panel painting from ca. 1480 he is represented as Saint Sebastian (Fig. 6.9) and shows similar characteristics.34 The concept of beauty, therefore, was obviously indispensibly connected with the construction of youth. The mentioned pictorial connection of the ruler with a saint again leads us to the phenomenon of the representation of the beauty of saints that we referred to before. In the fifteenth century the image of handsome male saints occurred regularly. Already in early medieval hagiographical sources the beauty of saints was supposed to influence people around them quite directly and decisively. The Irish Vita of Saint Columban of the seventh century tells that he was loved by the girls because of his beauty; the life of Saint Carthagus describes how thirty virgins fell in love with him.35 The saints certainly were able to resist. On the other hand, Protestant critics of the Catholic image cult saw very severe problems with regard to images of “beautiful” female and male saints in that they could lead to misuse of the pictures.36 In the dialogue Neu-Karsthans from around 1520, depictions of female saints are compared with those of courtesans. Zwingli made a similar point and stressed that the holy women were represented in churches as whorish, seductive, and well-groomed so that one would think that they were

32 Bumke, Höfische Kultur, vol. 2, 397 ff. 33 Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna, Cod. S. n. 12820, Wappenbuch. 34 Cf. Gotik in der Steiermark. Katalog der Landesausstellung Stift St. Lambrecht (Graz: Styria, 1978), 135. 35 Graus, Volk, Herrscher und Heiliger, 465. 36 For the following, see Michael Baxandall, The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1980), 88 ff. Concerning the problems of medieval moral theologians with beautiful people, mainly females, who could arouse cupidity, see Rüdiger Schnell, Causa amoris. Liebeskonzeption und Liebesdarstellung in der mittelalterlichen Literatur, Bibliotheca Germanica, 27 (Bern and Munich: Francke Verlag, 1985), 245-8.

104 “Young, Rich and Beautiful” placed there to arouse one to voluptuousness. And concerning images of male saints, he wrote:

Dört stat ein Sebastion, Mauritius und der fromm Johanns evangelist so jünkerisch, kriegisch, kuplig, daß die wyber davon habend ze bychten gehabt.37

Fig. 6.10. St John martyred in the oil-cauldron Martyrdom of St John the Evangelist fresco (detail), South Tyrolean master, wall painting, 1464 (Mellaun, South Tyrol, St John the Evangelist filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

For some beholders, therefore, male beauty and its representation could have negative effects and lead far away from the proper goal. This phenomenon again can particularly be seen in saints who were depicted in their youth or as knights, and for those who were of noble descent. As Zwingli stressed, Saint John the Evangelist, Saint Sebastian, Saint Mauritius, and besides them, for instance, Saint George, Saint Martin, Saint Vitus, and Saint Achatius, were those who regularly appeared as young and handsome. From the Catholic point of view, just in their martyrdoms they were meant to show their positive character and

37 Huldreich Zwinglis sämtliche Werke, vol. 4, ed. Emil Egli et al. (Munich: Kraus- Reprint, 1981), 145 ff.; Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, 90.

105 Gerhard Jaritz goodness through external beauty,38 even – or better particularly – in the moment of their passion (Fig. 6.10).39 Members of the nobility showed their character and personality not only through their own appearance but also with and through persons who were closely connected with them. This can particularly be shown in such situations where lord and servant adopted the same or similar aspects of outer appearance to prove their solidarity and unity. Sometimes we even find these aspects in normative sources. A sumptuary law from Tyrol, for instance, prohibited the use of pointed shoes. Only the members of the nobility and the servants at court were allowed to wear them.40 If we concentrate on visual sources, then we are again confronted with such a proximity between lord and servants. This is also true for the aspect of relative beauty and handsomeness. Young male servants are represented in a very similar way as their sometimes young and handsome, sometimes dignified and conservative lords (Fig. 6.11).41 This could also take place in cases in which the lord was not portrayed in a context of positive connotation like, for instance, in the parable of Dives and Lazarus (Fig. 6.12).42 The aforementioned phenomena and aspects certainly cannot be generalized completely. Borderlines are not strict. A number of ambivalences and ambiguities may be recognized. Appearances of beauty and ugliness could obviously become deceptive or might have functioned as a disguise. Under oriental influence,43 the ugliness of saints was used as a characteristic of positive connotation, too.

38 Concerning the general connection between physical beauty and goodness, see Rohr, “Die Schönheit des Menschen,” 94. 39 Martyrdom of Saint John the Evangelist on a fresco of the South Tyrolean church of Mellaun from 1464. 40 Werner Köfler, Land-Landschaft-Landtag. Geschichte der Tiroler Landtage von den Anfängen bis zur Aufhebung der landständischen Verfassung 1808 (Innsbruck: Universitätsverlag Wagner, 1985), 111. 41 For instance, the landgrave of Thuringia and his servant on the panel painting depicting the “Rose miracle of Saint Elisabeth of Thuringia” in the parish church of the Bavarian Laufen. See Ausstellung Spätgotik in Salzburg. Die Malerei, 1400-1500 (Salzburg: Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum, 1972), 137. 42 On a panel in St. Paul im Lavanttal (Carinthia), in the collections of the Benedictine abbey. 43 Graus, Volk, Herrscher und Heiliger, 467 ff.

106 “Young, Rich and Beautiful”

Fig. 6.11. The Landgrave of Thuringia and his servant The rose miracle of St Elisabeth of Thuringia on the “Sunday side” of a winged altar, master of the Laufener Nothelferaltar, Salzburg, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Laufen, Bavaria, Our Lady parish church; photo: Ausstellung Spätgotik in Salzburg. Die Malerei, 1400–1500. Salzburg: Salzburger Museum Carolino Augusteum, 1972, 137)

107 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 6.12. The “beautiful” servant of Dives The parable of Dives and Lazarus (detail), Upper Rhine master, panel painting, oil on wood, end-fifteenth century (St Paul im Lavanttal, Carinthia, Benediktinerstiftssammlung; © Stift Lavanttal, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 6.13. The “world upside- down”: the peasant unsuccessfully tries to represent noble beauty A codex of mixed content, Calendar, Labours of the months, August (detail, fol. 7v), South German or Austrian master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1475 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 7v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

108 “Young, Rich and Beautiful”

Some beautiful men in twelfth- and thirteenth-century literature feigned goodness and noble Christian descent.44 Contrasts were also very explicitly applied to show motives of the “world upside-down” in a humorous and didactic way.45 In this respect we also have to mention the literary and visual, sometimes grotesque images of more or less unsuccessful peasants who tried to become noblemen through attempts to change their ways of life and outer appearance, and to look “beautiful.”46 The peasants’ attempts were unsuccessful, and one was quite clearly able to recognize them as such. Many of these textual and visual sources are to be situated in the tradition of Neidhart von Reuental (first half of the thirteenth century).47 One of the later examples originates from a series of Labors of the Month images in a South German miscellany of 1475. The grain harvest in August is done by peasants, whose appearance and wear do not fit at all with the work that they had to do (Fig. 6.13).48 The long and curly hair, on the one hand,

44 Voigt, “Das Ideal der Schönheit und Hässlichkeit,” 5 ff.; Rohr, “Die Schönheit des Menschen,” 95. 45 Generally, see footnote 4. 46 See, generally, Hilde Hügli, Der deutsche Bauer im Mittelalter dargestellt nach den deutschen literarischen Quellen des 11.-15. Jahrhunderts (Bern: Paul Haupt 1929), passim; Helga Schüppert, “Der Bauer in der deutschen Literatur des Spätmittelalters – Topik und Realitätsbezug,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 7 / Sb. Ak. Wien, phil.-hist. Klasse 439 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1994), 125-76; Erhard Jost, Bauernfeindlichkeit. Die Historien des Ritters Neithart Fuchs, Göppinger Arbeiten zur Germanistik, 192 (Göppingen: Kümmerle Verlag, 1976). 47 Concerning Neidhart, see esp., Helmut Birkhan (ed.), Neidhart von Reuental. Aspekte einer Neubewertung, Philologica Germanica, 5 (Wien: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1983), passim. With regard to the example of the Viennese wall paintings of Neidhart’s songs, see Neidhart-Fresken um 1400. Die ältesten profanen Wandmalereien Wiens (Wien: Museen der Stadt Wien, n. d.); Eva-Maria Höhle, Oskar Pausch, and Richard Perger, “Die Neidhart-Fresken im Haus Tuchlauben 19 in Wien. Zum Fund profaner Wandmalereien der Zeit um 1400,” Österreichische Zeitschrift für Kunst und Denkmalpflege 36 (1982), 110-44. 48 For the satiric treatment of peasants in late medieval and early modern art, see also Hans-Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren. Entstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst, ca. 1470-1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen Verlag, 1986), passim; Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives. Popular

109 Gerhard Jaritz does not correspond to the ordinary hairstyle of peasants; it tries to indicate noble descent. On the other hand, it makes such an untidy appearance that any impression of nobility vanishes at once. The tight doublet and hose again at first seem to represent the dress of a fashionable young man. However, they contradict with the standard clothing for fieldwork so much that, in the end, it becomes very obvious that these peasants were unsuccessful in their attempts to resemble noblemen, as well as in staying good and honest peasants, as they were supposed to be. The humorous, satiric, and to some extent didactic effect of images like these is evident.49 They were meant for people of higher status who might have laughed at the foolish representatives of the lower classes in the pictures. The inability to become beautiful like those who were expected to be beautiful also contained a clear message about the unchangeableness of the social order in late medieval society. Using visual source material from the fifteenth century, I have tried to show that the notion of human beauty included much more than simple pleasure in pulchritude. It was always connected and put into context with inner values that were supposed to become obvious thereby. Legitimate beauty represented the indispensable link between the material and the immaterial aspects of life.

Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1989), 35-66 and 140-7. 49 For the satiric elements in Neidhart’s works, in the tradition of which we have to put these fifteenth-century examples, see footnote 46, and Rolf R. Mueller, “On the Medieval Satiric Fictions of Neidhart and Wittenwiler: Fools for their Theme, le Satire be their Song,” in In hôhem prîse. A Festschrift in Honor of Ernst S. Dick, ed. Winder McConell, Göppinger Arbeiten zu Germanistik, 480 (Göppingen: Kimmerle Verlag, 1989), 295-305; Raupp, Bauernsatiren, 117-21.

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- 7 -

Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages*

If images play a decisive role in mediating messages, this was particularly true for the late Middle Ages, in the West, in both religious and secular spaces. To pass the pictures’ messages to their recipients properly and adequately, care had to be taken to ensure that they were understood in the intended way – from the viewpoint of the patrons and the donors of the images, of those who had ordered and influenced their production. We are aware of the impact of the closeness of particularly religious images on their beholders through the integration of their narration into the well-known – we might say into the ‘everyday’ – life of the late Middle Ages;1 or, as Marylin Aronberg Lavin has emphasised:

Fourteenth and fifteenth century painters were not merely striving to provide clearer glimpses of the private lives of saintly beings; their intent was to vivify, in as many arresting ways as they could invent, the infinite intricacies of Christ’s hypostatic nature and the interaction between human beings and their spiritual destiny.2

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages,” The Medieval History Journal. Journal of the Association for the Study of Medieval History 3 (2000), 235-59. 1 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Nähe und Distanz als Gebrauchsfunktion spätmittelalterlicher religiöser Bilder,” in Frömmigkeit im Mittelalter. Politisch-soziale Kontexte, visuelle Praxis, körperliche Ausdrucksformen, ed. Klaus Schreiner (Munich: Fink, 2002), 265-80. 2 Marilyn Aronberg Lavin, The Place of Narrative: Mural Decoration in Italian Churches, 431-1600 (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1994), 121. See also Staale Sinding-Larsen, “Medieval Images as a Medium of Ritualized Communication,” in Kommunikation und Alltag in Spätmittelalter und früher Neuzeit, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters

Gerhard Jaritz

Influenced by various levels of such integration, late medieval images have been used-often rather uncritically – in attempts to ‘reconstruct’ or to ‘document’ the daily life in the period. In this process, it has sometimes been forgotten that, when using visual sources, we are always dealing with the ‘reality of images’ or with ‘reality effects’ of them, and not with the ‘reality of daily life’, even if the degree of proximity seems to be very high.3 In being trained to recognize certain contents and messages of images, the late medieval beholder could create a kind of background knowledge that enabled him to understand the meaning of other and new images. This functioned particularly well, if the images, and their contents and signs followed specific patterns of image language(s) that could be learnt and appreciated easily. The knowledge of such language(s) created a proximity between the recipient and the narration of images and, by that, towards their (religious) messages. For the historian dealing with visual sources, the existence and usage of such patterns for depicting situations, persons, objects and qualities means that research into the communication between beholders and images, and studies of the contents and functions of the image must go along with approaches of qualitative and quantitative analysis of the material. The quantitative use of images leads us, not as participants but as observers of the function and ‘power’ of medieval pictures,4 closer to the communication models of society in the period, and to their structure. This way, as Axel Bolvig has emphasized recently, through our und der frühen Neuzeit, 15 / Sb. Ak. Wien, phil.-hist. Klasse 596, ed. Helmut Hundsbichler (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1992), 331: “The […] ‘presence’ image […] will reinforce the emotional perception of divine presence on the actual site […] the human-like image of a human God, which is a portrait and not a mere metaphor, so to speak translates the theological concept of divinity into real-life conceptions directly accessible to the individual churchgoer and her or his companions.” 3 See Keith Moxey, “Reading the ‘Reality Effect’,” in Pictura quasi fictura: Die Rolle des Bildes in der Erforschung von Alltag und Sachkultur des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), 15-21. 4 Cf. Michael Baxandall, Patterns of Intention: On the Historical Explanation of Pictures (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1986), 109. Concerning the ‘power’ of images, see David Freedberg, The Power of Images: Studies in the History and Theory of Response (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1989).

112 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages qualitative and quantitative analyses we might well be able to get nearer the mental world of people in the late Middle Ages.5

Fig. 7.1. The “conservative” Fig. 7.2. The “fashionable” dress of an apostle dress of a torturer The figure of St Luke on a The Imprisonment of Christ scene winged altarpiece (detail), panel from the St John and Passion altar painting, tempera on wood, (detail), Rueland Frueauf the Younger 1510–1520 (around 1470–after 1545), panel (Maria Elend/Podgorje, painting, tempera on wood, c. 1500 Carinthia, Our Lady parish (Klosterneuburg, Lower Austria, church; photo: IMAREAL Stiftssammlungen, Inv. no. GM78; Krems) © Stift Klosterneuburg, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

5 Axel Bolvig, “Images of Late Medieval ‘Daily Life’: A History of Mentalities,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 39 (1998), 94-111.

113 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 7.3. The working dress of a peasant An image from a chess book – Konrad von Ammenhausen: Schachzabelbuch, Jacobus de Cessolis: Liber super Iudo scachorum, Meister Ingold: Das guldine spil – (detail, fol. 57v), prepared in the Constance region, pen and ink drawing on paper, 1479 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3049, fol. 57v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

As an example, to show some possibilities of the application of quantitative methods for the qualitative analysis of late medieval images and their messages, we have chosen the broad field of the beholders’ identification of members of various social groups who are represented in these images. A decisive aspect of our approach is the late medieval audience’s obvious ability not only to comprehend the visualised story and action but also, and in combination with it, to ‘recognise’ the people who took part in the depicted narration, particularly their social status, their function, and their positive or negative connotations. It was the outer appearance of persons who were depicted in images that counted,

114 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages and through which one was able to identify and to classify them in the narrative context. To recognise others by their outer appearance and to be recognised was, generally, a very decisive domain of medieval life and order.6 Conventions and norms influenced this outer appearance crucially. The wide range of sumptuary laws that tried to regulate many spheres of human activities and material culture in public space played a very important role in the urban society of the late Middle Ages. The laws concentrated on very explicit and detailed norms to control human display in this public space; dress played the major role in this process.7 Late medieval dress regulations had two main goals.8 On the one hand, they imposed expenditure limits while, on the other hand, they reserved significant pieces of dress or types of style and cloth for specific groups of society. The hierarchical order of the system also had to be guaranteed and insured via dress codes: the demonstration and maintenance of differences in appearance and the continuance of adequate privileges or inhibitions. Outer appearance reflected inner values and capabilities.

6 See, generally, the very good overview by Daniel Roche, La culture des apparences: Une historie du vêtement xviie-xviiie siècle (Paris: Fayard, 1989). 7 For medieval sumptuary legislation, see generally, Alan Hunt, Governance of the Consuming Passions: A History of Sumptuary Law (New York: Palgrave, 1996); Francis Elisabeth Baldwin, Sumptuary Legislation and Personal Regulation in England, Studies in Historical and Political Science, Series 44, no. 1 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1926); John Martin Vincent, Costume and Conduct in the Laws of Basel, Bern, and Zurich, 1370-1800 (Baltimore: Greenwood Publishing Group, 1935); Constanze Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen der deutschen Städte zwischen 1350 und 1700. Ein Beitrag zur Kulturgeschichte des deutschen Bürgertums, Göttinger Bausteine zur Geschichtswissenschaft, 32 (Göttingen, 1962); Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer und territorialer Kleider-, Aufwands- und Luxus- gesetzgebung in Deutschland (13. bis 16. Jahrhundert),” in Renaissance du pouvoir législatif et genèse de l’état, ed. André Gouron and Albert Rigaudière, Publications de la société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, III (Montpellier: Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, 1988); Neithard Bulst, “Kleidung als sozialer Konfliktstoff. Probleme kleidergesetzlicher Normierung im sozialen Gefüge,” in Neithard Bulst and Robert Jütte (eds.), Zwischen Sein und Schein. Kleidung und Identität in der ständischen Gesellschaft, Saeculum 44 (1993): 32-46. 8 Hunt, Governance, 27.

115 Gerhard Jaritz

The closeness of the contents of images to their beholders immediately leads to the hypothesis that the representation of the outer appearance of depicted persons mirrored corresponding conventions and laws of late medieval society. This may be checked best by some quantitative analysis of a larger amount of image material. Our analysis is based on a database (IMAREAL)9 of about 10,000, mainly religious, Central European images10 from the fourteenth century to the beginning of the sixteenth century. This database has been digitalised and verbally described in a detailed and standardised structure.11 The source-oriented database management system κλειω (Kleio) has proved to be the most efficient means for the documentation and comparative analysis of the material.12 The verbal descriptions of the images became the starting point for the creation of a number of groups, particularly of depicted persons and objects. I mainly generated ‘social groups’ of male persons relevant to our comparative research, and of ‘types of dress’. The following rather general ‘social groups’ of male persons in the images were established: apostles, upper-class persons (like rulers, members of the nobility, judges, and the like), people with clearly negative connotations (like torturers), servants, artisans and peasants (Graph 7.1).13 Concerning male dress,14 I created three groups

9 See parts of the database adapted for the World Wide Web in https://realonline.imareal.sbg.ac.at/ ‘Datenbank-Auszüge’. 10 These are mainly panel paintings, wall paintings and manuscript illuminations from present day Austria and its neighbouring countries. 11 See Gerhard Jaritz, Images: A Primer of Computer-Supported Analysis with κλειω IAS, Halbgraue Reihe zur Historischen Fachinformatik, A22 (St. Katharinen: Max Planck Institute, 1993); Gerhard Jaritz, “Everyday Life in the Middle Ages and Digital Image Analysis,” in Computers and the History of Art: Teaching, Images, Internet, ed. Michael Greenhalgh, (WWW publication, Canberra: Australian National University, 1995), 12 Concerning κλειω (Kleio) generally, see Manfred Thaller, Kleio: A Database System, Halbgraue Reihe zur Historischen Fachinformatik, B11 (St. Katharinen: Max Planck Institute, 1993); Matthew Woollard and Peter Denley, Source-Oriented Data Processing for Historians: A Tutorial for κλειω, Halbgraue Reihe zur Historischen Fachinformatik, A23 (St. Katharinen: Max Planck Institute, 1993). 13 The numbers represent the quantity of persons in each ‘social group’ in the sample of around 10,000 images. 14 Concerning the history and development of medieval Western European dress see, recently, Françoise Piponnier and Perrine Mane, Dress in the Middle Ages

116 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages

(Graph 7.2):15 one called ‘conservative’ and containing, for example, the traditional long cloaks and gowns (Fig. 7.1); another one named ‘fashionable’, and including the tight and short doublets and tight hoses, the pointed shoes, occurring particularly since the mid-fourteenth century, and then from the end of the fifteenth century onwards, the duck-bill shoes and the like (Fig. 7.2); the third representing ‘working dress’, mainly containing the typical knee-long tunics, straw hats, and the like (Fig. 7.3).

Graph 7.1. Social groups represented on the images analysed from the IMAREAL database (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

(New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998). 15 The numbers represent the quantity of pieces of clothing in each ‘type of dress’ in the sample of around 10,000 images.

117 Gerhard Jaritz

Graph 7.2. The proportation of the types of male dress on the analysed images (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.3. The correlation of the dress types and the social status (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

118 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages

Looking at the correlation of ‘type of dress’ and ‘social group’ (Graph 7.3),16 some results are more or less self-evident. We certainly come across the ‘conservative’ apostles, and the working peasants. Artisans wear working clothes as well as fashionable dress. The pictorial representations of members of the upper classes mediate the use of conservative clothing, but also, to some degree, of fashionable dress. To create and to follow new fashion, therefore, is to a certain extent a ‘privilege’ for those depicted to be of high status, and may, in this way, be positively connoted. Servants (of the upper classes) were relatively even more fashionable than their masters (Fig. 7.4). The main representatives of the sub-group ‘fashion’, however, were the ‘negatives’- meaning that fashionable dress in another context could become a sign of negative connotation of ‘bad guys’ and villains (Fig. 7.2). This certainly was not the legitimate way of outer appearance accepted by society. Therefore, they and their ‘portraits’ attracted attention and facilitated categorisation. For the members of the upper classes and their servants who were touched rather rarely by dress regulations and sumptuary legislation, fashion could be a sign of prestige and exclusiveness.17 This way, they also attracted attention. The ‘negative’ dress of ‘negative’ people increased their perceptibility and, obviously, the intensity of the message that ‘Bad people wear bad dress’. A comparable message was true for members of the upper classes also, when they were depicted wearing dresses similar to that of the ‘negative’ group, but in another context: ‘Good people wore good dress.’ A similar, context-bound ‘connection’ and ‘proximity’ between members of the nobility and negative figures like Orientals and torturers could already be proved in the colours of male dress used in images, particularly with regard to the phenomenon of multicolouredness.18 Very legitimate objects and

16 The numbers represent the quantity of objects of ‘type of dress’ worn by persons in each ‘social group.’ 17 Gerhard Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz. Unterschiedliche Identitäten in der städtischen Gesellschaft unter Normierungszwängen,” in Zwischen Sein und Schein, 16-8. 18 See Manfred Thaller, “Zur Formalisierbarkeit hermeneutischen Verstehens in der Historie,” in Mentalitäten und Lebensverhältnisse: Beispiele aus der Sozialgeschichte der Neuzeit. Rudolf Vierhaus zum 60. Geburtstag (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982), 441-53. See also the first attempts of such analyses in Gerhard Jaritz, “Daily Life in the Middle Ages – Iconography of Medieval Art and the

119 Gerhard Jaritz qualities for upper-class people at the same time seemed to signify particularly illegitimate ones for negative lower-class persons, thus creating a specific bad impression of them that fitted well with the perception of their negative role, function and status in the narration of the image. In a context-bound way, similar patterns were applied, on one hand to mediate a positive connotation of identifying legitimacy, and on the other, a negative one of illegitimacy. Through the effects of such patterns, societal norms and conventions were to be visualised clearly and intensely.

Graph 7.4. The correlation of the dress types and the age (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

To return to fashion, it is rather obvious that age played an important role. If we take the persons who, in our image descriptions, were qualified as young or old respectively, then we perceive that young men concentrated on fashionable dress, while the old ones stuck to conservative clothing (Graph 7.4). This followed a kind of convention

Use of EDP,” Historical Social Research 21 (1982): 43-51. For an analysis of the occurrences of colours, see also Gerhard Jaritz, “The Importance of Color in the Life of Medieval and Early Modern Society in Western and Central Europe,” in Color and Cultural Heritage 95. International Conference Varna, ‘St. Konstantin and Elena’, 12-14 September 1995, Compilation of Reports (Sofia, 1997), 11-5.

120 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages and not directly an explicit, written norm. Both the ‘juvenile’ fashionable dress as well as the conservative and respectable one might have been important factors concerning the increase of social prestige.19 That way, however, fashion need not have been indispensably connected with young people, and conservative dress not indispensably dependent on old age.

Fig. 7.4. A fashionably dressed standard bearer The inauguration ceremony of the first grandmaster of the order of knights of St George (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Originally: Millstatt, presently: Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

To concentrate on a specific object of the late medieval culture of dress that played a highly important role in sumptuary laws, particularly of the mid-fourteenth century and the late fifteenth century, let us look at the pointed shoes (Fig. 7.4).20 They represented an object about which

19 Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz,” 21. 20 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Schnabelschuh und Hörnerhaube, oder Bild, Sachkultur und Kontextualisierung,” in 8. Österreichischer Kunsthistorikertag. Vergangenheit in der Gegenwart – Gegenwart in der Kunstgeschichte? (Kunsthistoriker 11/12, 1994/1995), ed.

121 Gerhard Jaritz very intense discussion took place. They regularly turned up in dress regulations of late medieval urban communities, to be completely forbidden or only allowed unto a certain sharpness of the points. People who wore them, as well as the shoemakers who produced them, were to be fined. Also, evidence from chronicles from the whole of Europe contains stories about pointed shoes, rather often in connection with soldiers on horses having worn them in battle. The pointed shoes made it very difficult, if not impossible, for them to dismount from their horses, to run or flee. On the other hand, however, it is obvious that pointed shoes were particularly fashionable for members of the nobility.

Fig. 7.5. A “bad” peasant in fashionable dress with duck-bill shoes gripped by the devil The Last Judgement scene on the reverse of a winged altarpiece (detail), from Hans Schnatterpeck’s workshop, panel painting, tempera on wood, first quarter of the sixteenth century (Kortsch, South Tyrol, St John the Baptist filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Karl Schütz (Vienna, 1996), 8-12.

122 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages

Graph 7.5. The various shoe types: pointed shoes (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.6. The various shoe types: duck-bill shoes (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

123 Gerhard Jaritz

The latter were only very rarely encumbered by the many adequate laws against pointed shoes.21 The shoes could and did, thus, become a means of prestige. The same is true for the servants of the nobility. In our images in this case, we are again confronted with the context-bound contrast of similarity-between depicted members of the upper classes wearing ‘positive’ pointed shoes and negatively connoted persons wearing ‘negative’ ones (Graph 7.5).22 With regard to duck-bill shoes (Fig. 7.5) which follow the fashion of pointed shoes in c. 1480/1500, we are, on the one hand, confronted with less explicit regulations, while on the other hand and in connection with fewer laws, they play, in the written evidence, a clearly minor role as a fashionable object of the upper classes. If we look at the pictorial sources and the respective relation between duck-bill shoes as signs of upper- class fashion and as significant characteristics of negatively connoted persons, we find a similar situation (Graph 7.6). In comparison to pointed shoes, the duck-bill shoes obviously represented a decreased relevance as a fashionable piece of clothing for the upper classes. The importance of their negative ‘value’ proves more decisive. Two kinds of medieval dress fabric played a dominant role in sumptuary laws: silk and fur.23 Regulations concerning their use or the use of a certain quality of silk and fur in the context of belonging to a specific social group was a matter regularly dealt with by late medieval dress laws. There, the questions of vanity and legitimacy versus illegitimacy were obviously mainly linked to the price. In the case of pointed shoes and duck-bill shoes the phenomena of acceptance and refusal were much more dependent on signs of functionality or futility. As better qualities of fur and silk were rather determined by their financial value, it seems to be quite understandable that they were ‘reserved’ for the upper classes. In the sumptuary laws, we find the general prohibition of the use of silk

21 Ibidem, 8. 22 The visualisation using absolute numbers seems to be more adequate to the research problem than the possibility of showing percentages of the number of object wearers per number of members of the social groups. Percentages of groups with very low quantities would mediate problematic results of comparison. Comparisons with the ‘social groups’ graph (Graph 7.1) show respective relations. 23 See Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen, 129, 132 and passim; Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz,” 24.

124 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages for any dress very regularly: sometimes only small parts of the dress like hems were allowed to be made out of silk for certain social groups. With regard to the use of fur we come across a very detailed and structured differentiation of the various types of fur, starting with the status symbols: ermine, sable and squirrel coat.24 In pictorial sources, silk and fur were virtually never used for visualising negative connotations of any kind of lower-class people. They were obviously more or less exclusively applied as distinguishing marks of and between the upper-class persons depicted (Graph 7.7 and Graph 7.8).

Graph 7.7. The various material types: the language of furs (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

In conclusion, I would like to concentrate on a phenomenon that we already find regularly in early medieval sources: the long, blond and curly male hair.25 Long hair as a characteristic of high status espoused a long

24 Concerning furs as matter of prestige, cf. Robert Delort, Le commerce des fourrures en Occident à la fin du Moyen Âge, Bibliothèque des Écoles Françaises d’Athènes et de Rome 236 (Rome: Écoles Françaises de Rome, 1978), passim; Christian de Mérindol, “Signes de hiérarchie sociale à la fin du Moyen Âge d’après le vêtement. Méthodes et recherches,” in Le vêtement. Histoire, archéologie et symbolique vestimentaires au Moyen Âge, ed. Michael Pastoureau (Paris: Léopard d’Or, 1989), 193. 25 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Young, Rich, and Beautiful: The Visualization of Male

125 Gerhard Jaritz and well-known tradition since the Merovingians.26 Additionally, curls and blondness were a specific and important factor in making a man ‘handsome’. As an aspect of outer beauty it was also used as a sign to reflect the positive inner values of heroes, saints, and upper-class men. This phenomenon still played a relevant role in late medieval pictorial sources (Graph 7.9). There, the privilege of wearing long, blond and curly hair can be seen as one restricted to ‘young, rich and beautiful’ men and their servants. In our model of ‘social groups’, therefore, members of the upper classes naturally play a decisive role, while negative people are normally not touched by the possibility to being beautiful.

Graph 7.8. The various material types: the language of brocade (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

The very important part of the apostles in Graph 7.9 is only caused by the young Saint John the Evangelist (Fig. 7.6) who was most regularly depicted with such long, blond and curly hair. This phenomenon generally had only little to do with picturing some written law, but it well

Beauty in the Late Middle Ages,” in The Man of Many Devices, Who Wandered Full Many Ways. Festschrift in Honor of János M. Bak, ed. Balázs Nagy and Marcell Sebők (Budapest: CEU Press, 1999), 61-77. 26 See Jean Hoyoux, “Reges Criniti. Chevelures, tonsures et scalps chez les Merovingiens,” Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 26 (1948), 479-508.

126 Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages reflected a convention and a privilege to be applied and to be received at least in images and literature. The images again mediated certain impressions, messages, classifications and values of society.

Graph 7.9. The hair styles: blond and curly hair (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

In this essay, I could not (and did not) wish to show any final results, but merely to point to possibilities and to make some suggestions. After such rather general and preliminary attempts at analysis, the created ‘social groups’ and ‘types of dress’ should now be split into sub-groups whose creation would have to take into consideration more detailed and new contexts. In continuing our research, we certainly have to differentiate between the various levels of public and private spaces in which late medieval beholders could communicate with images.27 Nevertheless, it should be clear by now that research on images must take into consideration the signs, language(s) and message(s) encoded in

27 Such differentiation certainly has to take care of the levels of accessibility of images in context with the audience for which they were primarily produced (for instance wall paintings and panel paintings versus illuminations in manuscripts), and of the spatial proximity or distance between image and beholder. An adequate construction of typologies will help to create new sub-groups to be compared.

127 Gerhard Jaritz them. While doing this, it has to combine qualitative and quantitative approaches. Without applying quantitative methods we will not be able to get any information concerning the types, patterns and stereotypes of the language(s) of images. Today, unlike in the past, some adequate possibilities for this kind of analysis are available to historical research.

Fig. 7.6. The long and curly hair of St John the Evangelist The Crucifixion of Christ scene from the St John and Passion altar (detail), Rueland Frueauf the Younger (around 1470–after 1545), panel painting, tempera on wood, c. 1500 (Klosterneuburg, Lower Austria, Stiftssammlungen, Inv. no. GM78; © Stift Klosterneuburg, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

128

- 8 -

The Good and the Bad Example, or Making Use of Le Petit Peuple in Late Medieval Central Europe*

During the Middle Ages the lower orders of the society (le petit peuple), their behavior and actions, generally held no interest, as we know, for members of those groups of society who were the regular producers of the written narratives and of the literary or ‘visual texts’ which serve as our sources. This is particularly true with regard to the non deviant actions of the lower classes. Interest in them was raised by:

1. extraordinary or unbelievable phenomena happening in their lives; 2. their negative actions which contradicted the social order and potentially threatened stability; 3. their function as good examples or as models for other members of society.

A perception of the petit peuple (lower orders) who followed the conventions and norms of their communities and of the social system in an accepted way, without attracting attention, seems to have been missing. Apparently they were not worth speaking of or describing. Therefore, when members of the lower orders turn up in the sources, they were never ‘neutral.’ All those mentioned displayed signs of exceptionality. Through this exceptionality, they became interesting objects. It was as such objects that they found their way into the written and visual evidence.

* Originally published as “The Good and the Bad Example, or Making Use of Le Petit Peuple in Late Medieval Central Europe,” in Le petit peuple dans l'Occident médiéval: terminologies, perceptions, realités, ed. Pierre Boglioni, Robert Delort, Claude Gauvard (Paris: Éditions de la Sorbonne, 1999), 83-95.

Gerhard Jaritz

These general observations are particularly pertinent and important for research into the daily life of the late Middle Ages and its routine and repetitive aspects. The discourse about the lower orders, or certain of their representative members, followed particular patterns that reflected specific aspects or specific reasons for interest in them. This article is intended to offer an analysis of these phenomena, with emphasis on Central European narrative sources, literary evidence and images, particularly from Austria and Southern Germany. The regularity of discourse will be of special importance. The petit peuple were good objects for mediating the astonishing, the unbelievable, the incomprehensible. At times the reference to them appears to be on the same level as some of the well-known evidence from chronicles concerning, for instance, two-headed and eight-legged calves.1 The Continuatio Mellicensis2 reports, for the year 1498, that a woman gave premature birth when she passed a gallows on which she saw hanging a scoundrel. As a result, the child was born as if tied with a rope around its neck. Another woman, while pregnant, regularly contemplated on a statue representing the Christ in Despair on the Mount of Olives. The child to whom she gave birth had his hands raised in prayer. A third pregnant woman greatly admired a bishop’s precious robes. When her baby was born, he bore the insignia of a bishop on his body.3 But not all the stories of astonishing or remarkable events involving the lower classes were similarly highly unbelievable. It could be enough to mention,

1 E.g., Monumenta Germaniae Historica IX, ed. Georg Heinrich Pertz (reprint Stuttgart, 1983), 584: The Continuatio Admuntensis (Benedictine monastery of Admont, Styria) mentions that in 1171 “in partibus nostris vacca vitulum, duo capita, 8 pedes, duas caudas habentem peperit.” 2 From the Benedictine monastery of Melk, Lower Austria. 3 Monumenta Germaniae Historica IX, 526: “Est villa, Forciliw dicta, Prope Novam civitatem. In hac quedam maritata extitit iuvencula, que patibulum preteriens, fetum abortivum parturiit quasi fune collo circumligato, ex suspenso quem cernebat latrone. Rursus femina transmigrans, Salvatoris contemplatur effigiem lapideam in statua, quomodo ad Patrem orabat in monte oliveti. Infans igitur natus, orantis palmis erectis gerebat similitudinem. Tercio quoque, quod mirabilius apparuit, episcopus ibidem ecclesiam reconcilians, in pontificalibus ut moris est processit. Quedam diligencius intuita, pre novitate est admirata; facta igitur gravida, genuit puerulum quasi pontificalibus adornatum, capite coronato ad modum infule.”

130 The Good and the Bad Example in the same source from Melk about the year 1455, the story of two girls drowned while bathing in the Danube.4 Direct critique and negative evaluation of members of a lower social group are found in various urban sources concerning journeymen specifically and, concerning peasants, in literary evidences and other didactic and visual material. Journeymen had a rather unfavorable reputation. In particular, urban normative sources and court records represent them as being closely connected with any kind of criminality, especially scuffles, fights and other forms of violence.5 They were perceived as young, uncontrolled and violent, or at least such was the image built to describe them. A murder of his sleeping master committed by a baker’s journeyman found a place in the Nuremberg yearbooks for the year 1453.6 Other sensational stories about journeymen’s sinful lives also reflect the negative image constructed of them. A journeyman or servant and two women came to an innkeeper in the small Bavarian town of Schärding7 and asked for food. The latter reminded them that it was St Mark’s day, a fast day to be observed against sudden death. They ignored the reminder, ate, and all three died immediately. This story was important and extraordinary enough to be included in the Nuremberg yearbooks for 1452, where it was called a great miracle.8

4 Monumenta Germaniae Historica IX, 519: “Due quippe puelle in Danubio se balneantes merguntur.” 5 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Kriminalität – Kriminalisierung. Zum ‘Randgrup- penverhalten’ von Gesellen im Spätmittelalter,” Jahrbuch für Regionalgeschichte 17/2 (1990), 100-13; H. Mandl-Neumann, “Aspekte des Rechtsalltags im spätmittelalterlichen Krems,” in Bericht über den sechzehnten österreichischen Historikertag in Krems (Vienna, 1985), 319 and 325. 6 Die Chroniken der fränkischen Städte, Nürnberg 4, Die Chroniken der deutschen Städte vom 14. bis ins 16. Jahrhundert 10 (reprint Göttingen, 1961), 205: “Item in demselben jar 1453 an der donerstagen nacht vor Syman und Judas tag da dermordet ein peckenkneht sein herren in seim pett im slaf bei sant Lorenczn und wolt auch die frawen dermort haben als sie ein lieht wolt plosen, da ward sie schreien, wann er het ir 1 slag geben, der ging ab, und da lief der morder zu als er unschuldig wer und praht auch selber ir vater und muter und andere leut, doch fing man in, sleift in darnoch am eritag auß.” 7 Today Upper Austria. 8 Die Chroniken der fränkischen Städte, Nürnberg 4, 189: “Des jars geschah ein groß wunder zu Scherding in Bairn, an sant Marx tag, da kom ein kneht und zwu

131 Gerhard Jaritz

Urban sources regularly mention journeymen as actors in noteworthy events even if the situation did not involve sinful behavior. In 1431, a child fell into the Perlach River, and a glassmaker’s journeyman jumped into the water to help.9 He drowned, but the child was able to get out of the river alive. We see in these stories a mixture of the criminal and the remarkable which seems to be connected with general patterns of perception of this particular social group. It is clear that they were often assigned, either directly or indirectly, the function of serving as strange negative examples. The satirical-didactic use of peasants as ‘bad examples’ is well- known and well-researched. There, the main aspect is the construction of an image demonstrating their attempts to leave their proper position in the social order, for instance, by trying unsuccessfully to become knights. This phenomenon has been studied exhaustively.10 We possess a large amount of evidence in literary sources, particularly from the South German and Austrian areas, and from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries.11 With the regular use of topoi and stereotypes, such peasants were often portrayed satirically and humorously as an indirect warning against the results of trying to leave God-given, correct and adequate

frawen zu dem wirt, genant Melmewslein, und hiessen in genug zu essen und trincken geben; der wirt sprach: vast ir nit? wißt ir nit, das heut sant Marx tag ist? dem solt ir fasten fur den jehen tod, sie sprachen: sterb wir heut, so sei wir sein pis jar uber haben. Da kund man in als pald die air nit gesieden, sie sturben alle dreu ains jehen tods.” 9 Die Chroniken der fränkischen Städte, Nürnberg 4, 149: “Des jars an unser lieben frawen in der vasten da viel ein kint von der parfußprucken in das wasser und ein glaserkneht sprang hin nach. Der kneht ertrank, das kint kom auß. Das geschah zwischen den zwaien pruken.” 10 See, e.g., Helga Schüppert, “Der Bauer in der deutschen Literatur des Spätmittelalters – Topik und Realitätsbezug,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Klasse, 439 (reprint Vienna: Verlag der Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997), 125-76; Wolfgang Greisenegger, “Bauer und Hirt im szenischen Spiel des Mittelalters,” ibidem, 177- 91. 11 See Alfred Hagelstange, Süddeutsches Bauernleben im Mittelalter (Leipzig: Salzwasser Verlag, 1898), with the uncritical analysis typical of the end of the nineteenth century.

132 The Good and the Bad Example position attributed in society to each person.12 Changes in outer appearance made with the help of costume, food, behaviour and gesture signify and reveal the rustics’ attempts to rise in the social hierarchy; so do the chaotic aspects depicted in satirizing critiques of peasant festivities, especially in the early sixteenth century woodcuts and prints which have been thoroughly analyzed by Keith Moxey.13

Fig. 8.1. Haymaking by “ideal” peasants as members of the “Good Regime” Castello di Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquila, Cycle of the months, July (detail), Lombardian or Bohemian master, wall painting, after 1400 (Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

12 See Barbara Könnecker, “Der ‘verkehrte’ Mensch. Narren, Dörper, Schwankhelden in mittelalterlichen Texten,” in Mittelalterliche Menschenbilder, ed. Martina Neumeyer, Eichstätter Kolloquium 8 (Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet, 2000), 161-4. 13 Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives: Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 35-66. See also Hans-Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren. Entstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst ca. 1470-1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen, 1986).

133 Gerhard Jaritz

The peasantry as a social class, however, was generally used as an object that could function in two ways, either as a bad or a good example. The positive model was based not only on a by-gone period, as one of the various types of the well-known medieval laudatio temporis acti, although this stereotype also appears.14 But the positive model of peasants mainly showed that all the rest of society were dependent on them and their work. The peasants constituted one of the fundamental elements of the medieval social order. Thus they were able to present a good example for all other members of society. But the object ‘peasant’ might also been used simultaneously as both a good and a bad example.15 In those cases, his importance lay in the possibility that he could be used advantageously as a didactic object with both positive and negative connotations, to be perceived and understood clearly by everyone. The peasant was good enough to mediate messages, models, motivations or warnings. Whether the attitude to him was positive or negative did not really matter. If it was feasible that the argument would succeed and the didactic purpose be achieved, it was clearly profitable to use the peasant as good and bad example. It was the example and its success that counted, not the peasant. For example, around 1450, the Nuremberg poet Hans Rosenpluet wrote a Peasant’s Praise and a Peasant’s Blame. He dealt with the “[…] noble and pious peasant […] you noble countryman […] nobody can do without you.”

14 See, e.g., Leo Zehnder, Volkskundliches aus der älteren schweizerischen Chronistik, Schriften der Schweizerischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde 60 (Basel: Schweizerische Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, 1976), 63-78. Concerning the laudatio temporis acti, generally, see Walther Rehm, “Kulturverfall und spätmittelhochdeutsche Didaktik. Ein Beitrag zur Frage der geschichtlichen Alterung,” Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie 52 (1927): 289-330; R. Koch, Klagen mittelalterlicher Dichter über die Zeit, Phil. Diss. (Göttingen, 1931). 15 See Paul Freedman, Images of the Medieval Peasant (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999), passim; Gerhard Jaritz, “The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages: ‘Image’ and ‘Reality’,” in Agriculture in the Middle Ages. Technology, Practice, and Representation, ed. Del Sweeney (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995), 163-88; Herman Braet, “‘A thing most brutish:’ The Image of the Rustic in Old French Literature,” in ibidem, 191-204; E. Wolfgang Keil, Deutsche Sitte und Sittlichkeit im 13. Jahrhundert nach den damaligen deutschen Predigten (Dresden, 1931), 155-9; Heide Wunder, “Der dumme und der schlaue Bauer,” in Mentalität und Alltag im Spätmittelalter, ed. C. Meckseper and E. Schraut (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1985), 34-52.

134 The Good and the Bad Example

At the same time, he emphasized that “[…] for the last thirty years no right peasant has been born […] all of them would like to be masters.”16

Fig. 8.2. Sowing and harrowing by “ideal” peasants as members of the “Good Regime” Castello di Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquila, Cycle of the months, April (detail), Lombardian or Bohemian master, wall painting, after 1400 (Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

If we look at the surviving literary, narrative or visual sources and the patterns or stereotypes that they use, the negative didactic predominate, often expressed in entertaining, humorous and satirical examples, but they were certainly not the only ones to be used. Positive examples also exist. They may be found in visual sources.17 The images of the Labors of the Months cycle of wall paintings (after 1400) in the Torre Aquila of the

16 Günther Franz, Quellen zur Geschichte des deutschen Bauernstandes im Mittelalter, Ausgewählte Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters, Freiherr vom Stein-Gedächtnisausgabe XXXI (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftl. Buchgesellschaft, 1974), 548-52; Gerhard Jaritz, “The Material Culture of the Peasantry,” 165-6. 17 Concerning visual sources on late medieval rural life, generally, see Perrine Mane, “Images de la vie des villageois,” in Villages et villageois au Moyen Âge (Paris: Société des médiévistes de l’enseignement supérieur public, 1992), 161-79.

135 Gerhard Jaritz episcopal Castello de Buonconsiglio in the Upper Italian town of Trento have often been used to illustrate and analyze late medieval peasant life and work, as for instance haymaking (Fig. 8.1), harvesting grain, or sowing and harrowing (Fig. 8.2), on so on. In this cycle, the work of the peasants is always shown in connection with the work and pastimes of the nobility18 (Fig. 8.3). In the context of the place where the pictures were painted, of those who saw them, and of their probable function, we may conclude that what was shown was an ideal of agricultural work and rustic life. This hypothesis is supported by the outer appearance of the peasants depicted: their dress, their way of work, their gender distribution and so on. Everything is being done at the right time, in the right way, by the right people with the right outer appearance. This correctness is seemingly supplemented by the right and fitting behaviour and actions of the nobility depicted (Fig. 8.3). This then led to the right life of the community and region (i.e., the bishopric of Trento) generally. Therefore, the wall paintings appear to have been an obvious and typical instance of the well-known representations of buon governo.19 The peasants were an indispensable part of this ‘Good Government’ and a positive example. In another type of Labors of the Months cycle, particularly in the more ‘private’ space of manuscript-illustrations, we might be confronted with peasants affording a bad example. In such an instance,20 grain harvest and arboriculture (Fig. 8.4) were again done in the right way and at the right time, but not by the right people. The peasants who do the work are not as they should be. They do not wear working clothes of knee-length tunics and simple shoes, but doublets, tight hose and pointed

18 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Lebensbilder? Die mittelalterlichen Fresken aus dem Adlerturm von Trento (Trient),” in Das andere Mittelalter. Emotionen, Rituale und Kontraste (Krems: KunstHalle Krems, 1992), 127-34. 19 See, e.g., the buon governo-representations in Siena or Geneva: Bram Kempers, “Gesetz und Kunst. Ambrogio Lorenzettis Fresken im Palazzo Pubblico in Siena,” in Malerei und Stadtkultur in der Dantezeit. Die Argumentation der Bilder, ed. H. Belting and D. Blume (Munich: Hirmer Verlag, 1989), 71-84; Quentin Skinner, “Ambrogio Lorenzetti: The Artist as Political Philosopher,” in ibidem, 85-103; Florens Deuchler, “Warum malte Konrad Witz die ‘erste’ Landschaft? Hic et nunc im Genfer Altar von 1444,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 3 (1984), 39- 49. 20 Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 1r-11r.

136 The Good and the Bad Example footwear. Their hair is long and curly. This would have been the ‘correct’ appearance for young noblemen or their servants,21 but never for peasants. This then once again uses peasants in a satiric way, as a negative example.

Fig. 8.3. Milking and producing butter and cheese by “ideal” female peasants as members of the “Good Regime” Castello di Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquila, Cycle of the months, June, Lombardian or Bohemian master, wall painting, after 1400 (Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

21 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Young, Rich, and Beautiful. The Visualization of Male Beauty in the Late Middle Ages,” in The Man of Many Devices, Who Wandered Full Many Ways. Festschrift in Honor of János M. Bak, ed. Balázs Nagy and Marcell Sebők (Budapest: CEU Press, 1999), 61-77.

137 Gerhard Jaritz

A further instance is a South Tyrolean altarpiece from the beginning of the sixteenth century (Fig. 8.5). A peasant coming from the grain harvest is surprised by the Last Judgment. He can be recognized by his straw hat and the products of his work as gleaner. He is on his way in the direction to heaven, but he wears a doublet, tight hose, a codpiece and fashionable duckbill shoes, certainly not the peasant’s working dress that would give him the correct outer appearance. It is understandable, therefore, that the devil grabs him with his claws to take him to hell.

Fig. 8.4. Arboriculture by “wrong” peasants A codex of mixed content, Calendar, Labours of the months, August (detail, fol. 3r), South German or Austrian master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1475 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 3r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

138 The Good and the Bad Example

Fig. 8.5. A “wrong” peasant grabbed by the devil The Last Judgement scene on the reverse of a winged altarpiece (detail), from Hans Schnatterpeck’s workshop, panel painting, tempera on wood, first quarter of the sixteenth century (Kortsch, South Tyrol, St John the Baptist filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

The example of the Labors of the Month from Trento has shown the peasants as an important part of society in order to visualize the buon governo in the bishopric and in the good life of the community. This use of the members of the lower orders as an indispensable part of society as a whole represents another aspect to which we may have access in our sources. Some of the best examples of this are to be found in reports of miracles. Particularly in the late middle ages, such accounts and the images based on them show a trend to manifest and prove that the power

139 Gerhard Jaritz and miracles of saints could affect each and every member of medieval society. Any sickness could be healed, any problem solved, any person helped. This ‘anything to anybody’-construction22 had to be presented to the public, and it needed both the great and the humble members of society. An example of this kind can be found in the ‘Virgin of Mariazell’ in Styria.23 She healed the sickness of Margrave Henry of Moravia and his wife (Fig. 8.6); she protected burghers and merchants in danger; she helped the groom who had fallen from the ladder in a stable (Fig. 8.7); she saved another groom into whose body a snake had crawled (Fig. 8.8). Members both of the elites and of the lower orders were ‘needed’ to mediate manifest the general power and success of the saint and the pilgrimage. The above-mentioned function of the peasantry as one of the foundations of medieval society may be seen yet again in the fairly frequent mention of them as the suffering ones and as those who had to endure manifold hardships. The frequent mention of their sufferings and the manifold hardships that they had to endure may be found in the evidence of chronicles dealing with war and violence. There, peasants and rural areas were regularly introduced and used to describe the disastrous consequences of war: the suffering caused peasants by the destruction of their villages and fields, the basis of their work and means of life.24

22 See Peter-Michael Spangenberg, Maria ist immer und überall. Die Alltagswelten des spätmittelalterlichen Mirakels (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1987), passim; Barbara Schuh, ‘Von vilen und mancherlay seltzamen Wunderzaichen’: die Analyse von Mirakelbüchern und Wallfahrtsquellen, Halbgraue Reihe zur historischen Fachinformatik (St. Katharinen: Max Planck Institute, 1989), passim. 23 Concerning the visual construction of the miracle-reports from this pilgrimage, see the so-called Kleiner Mariazeller Wunderaltar (1512) with six scenes, and the so-called Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (1518-1522) with 48 scenes: G. Biedermann, Katalog Alte Galerie am Landesmuseum Joanneum. Mittelalterliche Kunst: Tafelwerke – Schreinaltäre – Skulpturen (Graz, 1982), 153-6, n. 50, and 162-6, n. 55. See also P. Krenn, “Die Wunder von Mariazell und Steiermark,” in Die Kunst der Donauschule 1490-1540. Ausstellung des Landes Oberösterreich (Linz, 1965), 164-8; P. Krenn, “Der Große Mariazeller Wunderaltar von 1519 und sein Meister,” Jahrbuch des Kunsthistorischen Institutes der Universität Graz 2 (1966-1967), 31-51. 24 See H. Ebner, “Der Bauer in der mittelalterlichen Historiographie,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Sitzungsberichte der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, phil.-hist. Klasse, 439 (reprint Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997), 101-3.

140 The Good and the Bad Example

Fig. 8.6. Healing of Margrave Henry of Moravia and his wife by the Virgin of Mariazell Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), master of the Brucker Martinstafel, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1518/1522 (Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

141 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 8.7. Rescue of a groom who had fallen from a ladder by the Virgin of Mariazell Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), master of the Brucker Martinstafel, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1518/1522 (Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

142 The Good and the Bad Example

Fig. 8.8. Rescue of a groom from a snake that had crawled into his body by the Virgin of Mariazell Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), master of the Brucker Martinstafel, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1518/1522 (Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

143 Gerhard Jaritz

In these texts also their fundamental role was highlighted; they represented the suffering population as a whole. In addition, the poor and humble were sometimes mentioned when members of the upper classes had to deal with problems in their own life. A situation could arise in which some of the elite became quasi- members of the more disadvantaged groups, or saw themselves as such. The lower classes and their material culture were used to show negative developments in elite culture. In the Buch von den Wienern by Michael Beheim from the second half of the fifteenth century, we find a description of the disorders that had arisen between the emperor and the Viennese in the sixties of that century. The burghers besieged the imperial castle, and the food supply was affected. In the same source, we meet for the year 1462 a story about the three-year-old Maximilian (later to be the emperor Maximilian I), son of Emperor Frederick III. The only food that could be offered to him was barley and peas, both of which he disliked. He wanted meat, but it was not available. One day he was served peas again, and in evident indignation he sent them back:

[...] dy spais wer im nit eben, man solcz den veinden geben [...] ([...] this food was not proper for him, it should be given to the enemies [...].)25

The food described – barley and peas – was obviously perceived as nutrition for the lower orders, the peasants, therefore not fit for the son of the emperor. It was, however, good enough as nutrition for enemies. In a necrology of the Benedictine monastery of the Scots in Vienna, we come across an entry for the second half of the fifteenth century, which refers to the donation of some money to be used, among other things, to provide bread and meat for the poor.26 An addition to this

25 Michael Beheim’s Buch von den Wienern, 1462-1465, ed. Theodor von Karajan (Vienna: Braumüller, 1843), 128-9. 26 “Necrologium monasterii Scotorum Vindobonensis,” in Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Necrologia Germaniae V, Dioecesis Pataviensis (Austria inferior), ed. A. F. Fuchs (reprint Munich, 1983), 307: November 12: “Johannis Ernst anniv. Pro hoc dantur annuatim 3 floreni de domo iuxta waghaus, 1 florenus ad sacristiam pro laboribus, 1 florenus pro missis, 1 florenus pro carnibus et panibus pauperibus distribuendis. Sed nunc sacristanus totum recipit pro conventu, quia etiam et nos monachi pauperes sumus in domino licet sine defectu et

144 The Good and the Bad Example entry states that the money would now be used for the monastic community, because the monks were also paupers in the Lord. As in the previous example, the material culture of the poor was evoked, but in neither case did this mean that either the monks or the little Maximilian perceived themselves as actual members of the lower classes of society. A number of patterns may be recognized in which the petit peuple (the poor, the lower orders) were represented in the narrative, literary and visual sources of late medieval Central Europe. Mentioned here are only some examples of the use made of various such groups by our sources, with regard to the specific kinds of aspects presented and of their construction. According to the typical pattern, the lower orders were not perceived or utilized neutrally, but rather as provoking wonder in some way. They were the good and the bad ones, and they offered positive or negative examples, models to be followed and/or condemned. They functioned as objects that were seen, on the one hand, as part of one’s own society and, on the other, as representatives of obvious ‘otherness’. Through the various forms that their ‘otherness’ took, they became interesting and made their way into our written and visual sources ‘texts.’

mendicacione ex libro capitulari.”

145

Minorities and Marginal Groups

- 9 -

Poverty Constructions and Material Culture*

As the sociologist Marvin Olasky worked on his book, The Tragedy of American Compassion,1 he also did research on the condition of poverty. He stopped shaving for some days, dressed in ragged clothing and joined the throng of homeless in some of Washington’s soup kitchens. In one of them, he asked a volunteer server for a Bible. It was necessary for him to pose the question twice before the person understood what was being requested; and then the answer came that no Bibles were available.2 – Poverty without the religious touch, no spiritual significance of poverty: It has disappeared, and clearly not only in this individual case. Today, poverty most often seems to be purely an economic issue with little to excite the involvement of the non-poor.3 In that, today’s ‘culture of poverty,’4 in the broadest sense of its meaning, is clearly different from

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Poverty Constructions and Material Culture,” in The sign languages of poverty, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2007), 7-18. 1 Marvin Olasky, The Tragedy of American Compassion (Washington, D. C.: Crossway Books, 1992). 2 See also F. Allan Hanson, “How Poverty Lost Its Meaning,” The Cato Journal 17/2 (1997), 9 http://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.513.7260&rep=re p1&type=pdf (last access September 20, 2019). 3 For this and the following, see ibidem, 1-2. 4 Concerning the ‘culture of poverty’ (‘Kultur der Armut’) generally, see Valentin Groebner, “Mobile Werte, informelle Ökonomie. Zur “Kultur” der Armut in der spätmittelalterlichen Stadt,” in Armut im Mittelalter, Vorträge und Forschungen 58, ed. Otto Gerhard Oexle (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 2004), 164-9.

Gerhard Jaritz the medieval one.5 Then, poverty was not viewed as a social pathology, even when connected or associated with economic hardship. Based on the godly origin of the social system, poor people were not held individually responsible for their fate. In a society that, in many contexts, condemned this-worldly things, the poor were able to represent a religious ideal. And, as one can also trace regularly, they could become useful for all the other members of the society. While confronted with this medieval idealisation of poverty, one can also find, mainly for the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, a stronger accent on the visibly hard and threatening realities of material poverty.6 Beggars could be connected with idleness or rootlessness.7 One became afraid of some poor people and started to differentiate between the good paupers to be supported and the bad ones to be excluded from one’s community.8 Badges and other signs showed who the good ones were.9 I do not want to go on with these general aspects and statements, but will rather concentrate on one question that has to do with the ‘constructions of poverty’ in the late Middle Ages and the use of material

5 For the development of poverty from the Middle Ages to the contemporary world, see, in particular, Bronisław Geremek, Poverty: A History (Oxford and Cambridge MA: Blackwell, 1994). 6 For the various meanings of medieval and early modern poverty, see Robert Jütte, Poverty and Deviance in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge et al.: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 9-12. See also Martin Dinges, “Rezente Forschungstrends zur Geschichte der Armut – Frühe Neuzeit und Spätmittelalter,” Kwartalnik Historii Kultury Materialnej 50 (2002), 311-3, and the contribution of Katharina Simon-Muscheid, “Sozialer Abstieg im Mittelalter,” in The sign languages of poverty, 95-118. 7 Michel Mollat, The Poor in the Middle Ages (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), 251. 8 Jütte, Poverty and Deviance, 143: “Contemporaries […] saw in the poor not only Christ but sometimes the Devil himself.” Concerning the ambiguity of the evaluation of paupers and the treatment of the ‘good poor’ and the ‘bad poor,’ see also Claude Gauvard, “Juger les pauvres en France à la fin du Moyen Âge,” in The sign languages of poverty, 43-58. 9 See Helmut Bräuer, “Bettel- und Almosenzeichen zwischen Norm und Praxis,” in Norm und Praxis im Alltag des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit 2, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997), 75-93; Groebner, “Zur ‘Kultur’ der Armut,’ 180-4.

150 Poverty Constructions and Material Culture culture in these contexts.10 Concerning the material sign language(s) of poverty, what happened when very different people estimated themselves, were described or recognised as being or having become poor? How did authors create and signify poverty important enough to be mentioned, not only of such men and women who were the well- known beggars or voluntary paupers like the Mendicants,11 but also of other ‘poor’ members of society? Ever and again, a variety of sources mention people who got into some kind of problematic situation that made it possible or even necessary to represent them as having reached (a status of) poverty.12 This, certainly, does not or, at least, need not mean that they really had become poor like beggars living at the margins of society. But still, their status and life situation had obviously changed for the worse. They had become ‘poor’ in their individual point of view or following the authors’ opinions without being ‘real’ paupers, showing that poverty itself or talking about poverty could represent very different things and aspects of meaning.13 In such contexts, the means and levels of the construction of ‘poverty’ do not seem to have depended on class or origin. In medieval society, anyone – independent of gender,14 actual social status or original wealth15 – could, in specific situations, have been defined or have wanted to be characterised and recognised as being poor. In these discourses,

10 Concerning material culture in context with the discourses about poverty, see also Groebner, “Zur ‘Kultur’ der Armut,” 173-5. 11 Concerning the latter, see Gábor Klaniczay, “The Sign Language of the ‘Pauperes Christi’,” in The sign languages of poverty, 201-20. 12 With regard to this multiple use of the words and signifying terms ‘poor’ (‘arm’) and ‘poverty’ (‘Armut’) in medieval German, mainly in literary sources, see, particularly, Dieter Kartschoke, “Armut in der deutschen Dichtung des Mittelalters,” in Armut im Mittelalter, Vorträge und Forschungen 58, ed. Otto Gerhard Oexle (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 2004), 27-78 (with rich references to older literature). 13 Concerning the present situation, see Sarah Bouquerel and Pierre-Alain de Malleray, L’Europe et la pauvreté: quelles réalités?, Notes de la Fondation Robert Schuman 31 (Paris and Brussels: Fondation Robert Schuman, 2006), 10: “La pauvreté est un phénoméne multiforme, difficile á cerner avec exactitude.” 14 With regard to aspects of gender and poverty, see Patricia Skinner, “Gender and the Sign Languages of Poverty,” in The sign languages of poverty, 59-74. 15 Concerning, e.g., the contexts of nobility and poverty, see Joseph Morsel, “Adel in Armut – Armut im Adel?” in Armut im Mittelalter, 126-64.

151 Gerhard Jaritz one can trace the application of the ‘rhetorics of poverty’ and the use of stereotypes to create paupers.16 When ‘talking’ about poverty, with the help of objects,17 texts, images18 or the spoken word, this poverty was supposed to be easily recognisable as such. It had to exist or be constructed in a way that one could have perceived and understood it clearly. When acknowledging such a situation, this leads to the question of to what extent the recurring signs of poverty used in descriptions followed the same or similar (material) patterns and to what extent they may have been seen as distinct from one another. Was there one appropriate medieval ‘sign language of poverty’ that everybody might have understood and would have connected with the multiplicity of different kinds and types of ‘poor condition’? The examples that I will use for discussing this problem are mainly taken from late medieval Central European sources. I want to start with an example that fits well into the research field of Nancy Black.19 For the year 1438, the Polish chronicler Jan Długosz tells the story about Barbara of Cilli, widow of Emperor Sigismund of Luxemburg.20 During the lifetime of her husband, as the chronicler emphasises, she had annoyed and insulted members of the Hungarian nobility. After Sigismund’s death, the noblemen asked his successor, King Albrecht, to do something against her. Therefore, the latter

16 Concerning the use of stereotypes in the context of poverty, see also Gauvard, “Juger les pauvres en France à la fin du Moyen Âge.” 17 In this context, the analysis of archaeological evidence may offer valuable results. See David Austin, “The Presence of Poverty: Archaeologies of Difference and Their Meaning,” in The sign languages of poverty, 19-42. 18 Concerning images of poverty and paupers, see Axel Bolvig, “What does poverty look like?: its notion in Late Medieval Danish wall paintings,” in The sign languages of poverty, 165-76. See also Thomas Raff, “Das Bild der Armut im Mittelalter,” in Armut im Mittelalter, 9-25. 19 See her contribution Nancy Black, “Medieval depictions of ‘Poor Queens’ in art and text,” in The sign languages of poverty, 177-200, and, in particular, Nancy Black, Medieval Narratives of Accused Queens (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2003), passim. 20 Ioannis Dlugossii annales seu cronicae incliti regni Poloniae, liber undecimus et liber duodecimus, ed. C. Baczkowski et al. (Warsaw: Pánstw. Wydawn. Nauk, 2001), 190; The Annals of Jan Długosz. Annales seu cronicae incliti regni Poloniae, an English abridgement by Maurice Michael (Chichester: IM Publ., 1997), 475.

152 Poverty Constructions and Material Culture banished her from her castles, towns, and lands in Hungary, and took away the treasures and jewels that she had collected over the years. Barbara went to Poland and asked king Władysław III to accept her in his country, as a “poor orphan” ([…] et se tanquam miseram et orphanam personam a rege Wladislao recolligi petebat […]). Władysław did so, gave her certain revenues, and offered her other things that she needed, so that she was again able to live according to her status, meaning that she was no longer a “poor orphan”. If one takes the wording of the source, then Barbara had become ‘poor’ and, even stronger but still quite general: She had become a “poor orphan”. The reason for her impoverishment was that she had lost lands, castles, treasures, and jewels. Such a material argument represents one of the regular methods of the ‘construction of poverty’ out of the most varied of reasons for kings and queens, burghers and officials, merchants, students, and so on. It might also have been applied to any type of victim, such as of treason or exile, natural catastrophe or famine. The same Jan Długosz told, for instance, about a dreadful murrain on Poland’s animals, cattle and herds, in 1298, so that “many, even the rich, were impoverished” (plurimi etiam ex locupletibus ad inopiam redigerentur).21 Again they had lost material goods, although in a very different respect than Barbara of Cilli. In such contexts of famine and catastrophe, the ‘construction of poverty’ then occured particularly generalising: […] ut divites cum pauperibus famis inediam angustiati sustinerent, as was, for instance, stressed for a similar situation in Lower Austria in the year 1255.22 Quite regularly, one is not only confronted with general statements of being poor or having been impoverished as a result of losing a variety of different material objects, but also with very specific and ostentatious ‘signs of poverty’ that were applied frequently, sometimes so obvious

21 Ioannis Dlugossii annales seu cronicae incliti regni Poloniae, liber septimus, liber octavus, ed. S. Budkowa et al. (Warsaw: Pánstw. Wydawn. Nauk, 1975), 301; The Annals of Jan Długosz, 243. 22 Annales Mellicenses Continuatio, Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores IX, ed. Georg Heinrich Pertz et al. (Hannover: Hahn, 1851; reprint Stuttgart: Hiersmann, 1983), 509. See also Fritz Curschmann, Hungersnöte im Mittelalter. Ein Beitrag zur deutschen Wirtschaftsgeschichte des 8. bis 13. Jahrhunderts (Leipzig: Teubner, 1900; reprint 1970), 178 (also containing a large number of similar examples out of chronicles from the period).

153 Gerhard Jaritz that it was no longer necessary to speak about ‘poverty’ explicitly. Everyone understood and knew from the beginning what was meant. There is the well-known story, in 1462, about the three-year-old child who later became Emperor Maximilian I. In the course of the inner- Habsburg troubles between Emperor Frederick III and his brother, Albrecht VI, it came to the siege of the castle of Vienna, where Frederick and his family lived. In his “Buch von den Wienern,” Michael Beheim describes the following situation:23 During the siege, severe deficiencies occurred for the imperial family. Frederick and his wife could be served neither deer nor fish, nor white bread. They had to be content with dry black bread and bad meat. Neither could their son Maximilian be served the meat that he loved so much, but just barley and peas. One day, again being served peas, he did not touch them but sent them back, saying that this food was not appropriate for him but should be given to the enemy:

Ains dages braht man im arwaiss, und e daz er ir ye enpaiss, sprach er ‘er het ir ain genug,’ daz man sy wider dannen trug, dy speiss wer im nit eben, Man solcz den veinden geben! 24

The story goes on. One day, a nobleman sent eggs, pap, flour, and milk to the castle, representing food that was needed for young Maximilian. But a bad man of the besiegers took these supplies and trampled on them. In these situations, everything is clearly related with specific objects and signs that everybody knew and understood: The lack of status- proper food and having to suffer from improper nutrition was normally connected with paupers and lower-class people.25 At the end of the story,

23 Michael Beheim’s Buch von den Wienern, 1462-1465, ed. Theodor von Karajan (Vienna: Rohrmann, 1843), 128-9. See also Gerhard Jaritz, “Der Einfluß der politischen Verhältnisse auf die Entwicklung der Alltagskultur im spätmittelalterlichen Österreich,” in Bericht über den sechzehnten österreichischen Historikertag, Veröffentlichungen des Verbandes Österreichischer Geschichtsvereine 24 (Vienna: Verband Österreichischer Geschichtsvereine, 1985), 529-30. 24 Michael Beheim’s Buch von den Wienern, 130. 25 Concerning the context of poverty and food, see also Melitta Weiss Adamson,

154 Poverty Constructions and Material Culture the author, Michael Beheim, concluded with a statement that would have been evident for everyone from the very beginning of the report without necessarily having to be emphasised. He wrote that if Maximilian had not been the heir to the reigning lord he would have been recognised as a child of poor people whom one should have pity on:

wer er nit gewest ir erpherr und her von fremden landen verr, gewesn ain kind ains armen, ain solchs solt sy erbarmen! 26

In these “constructions of poverty,” improper food was one of the most regularly applied signs of poverty, often connected with the lack of other basic necessities. Jan Długosz’ chronicle tells the story of a dispute between rulers. In 1300, the elected but still uncrowned Polish King Władysław Lokietek was divested of his authority and Václav, King of Bohemia, was elected and crowned instead.

Władysław now “has to endure extremes of cold and heat, to suffer rain and hunger, to sleep on the bare earth and endure every sort of hardship, as well as the poverty unworthy of a king, which forces him to spend his nights in marshes, woods and trackless wastes, seldom under a roof” ([…] doctus frigora et caumata, imbres ac solem iuxta pati, humi requiescere, inediam et quemlibet laborem egestatemque contra decus regium tolerare, et in paludibus, densis quoque silvis et aviis locis noctu raro sub tecto delitescere […]).27

The “poverty unworthy of a king” is explicitly connected with lack of the basic human needs that would have made it clear for everybody that Władysław Lokietek had lost. The discourse about poverty unworthy of one’s status and its sometimes-detailed material description can be found regularly in various primary sources, particularly chronicles. Medieval literature also contains

“Poverty on the Menu: Towards a Culinary Vocabulary of Poverty in Medieval Europe,” in The sign languages of poverty, 221-36. 26 Michael Beheim’s Buch von den Wienern, 131. 27 Ioannis Dlugossii annales seu cronicae incliti regni Poloniae, liber nonus, ed. S. Budkowa et al. (Warsaw: Pánstw. Wydawn. Nauk, 1978), 15; The Annals of Jan Długosz, 245.

155 Gerhard Jaritz such situations in large number.28 Again, such examples concentrate on specific material signs of poverty, especially concerning food and nutrition or dress. In Konrad of Würzburg’s thirteenth-century “Partonopier and Meliur,” Prince Partonopier’s exile is described in the context of his poor apparel and bad food: water and miserable bread made out of barley:

[…] er leit sô bitter ungemach, daz ich mit tûsent münden niht möhte gar ergründen sîn angestlîche herzenôt. ûz gersten jâmerlichez brôt az er unde eht anders niht. dar zuo tranc er, als man giht, eins küelen kalten brunnen. dâ von het er gewunnen vil schiere jâmerlichen pîn.29

One of the best known and evident instances from the area of ‘poverty constructions’ is Der blôze keiser (The Naked Emperor), written by the thirteenth-century author Herrand of Wildonie.30 As the title already says, it was clothing that played the decisive role in the story of this emperor of Rome who possessed so many treasures that he had more than most, which made him forget his meters and bounds:

[…] er was an Schatze sô fürkomen, daz er des mêr het danne vil. nu brach daz guot der mâze ir zil und verkêrte im den muot, […].31

28 See contributions of Maria Dobozy (“The Wayfaring Singer’s Penury: Use of a Literary Commonplace”) and Maria Bendinelli Predelli (“Dame Poverty among Saints, Poets and Humanists: Italian Intellectuals Confronted with the Question of Poverty”) in The sign languages of poverty, 149-64 and 119-48. 29 Konrads von Würzburg Partonopier und Meliur, ed. Karl Bartsch, reprint of the 1871 edition with a new postscript by R. Gruenter (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1970), 142, vv. 9710-19. 30 “Der nackte Kaiser,” in Herrand von Wildonie. Vier Erzählungen, ed. Hanns Fischer (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1969), 22-43. 31 Ibidem, 22-3, vv. 22-5.

156 Poverty Constructions and Material Culture

The story works with the material signs of apparel, in connection with the emperor’s visit to the baths. There, with the help of an angel acting as a look-alike, he was to recover his virtues. The impact of the look-alike led to a confusion of clothes and to the emperor’s nakedness, bereft of honour and dress ([…] der het ê vil und wart dô bar êren unde kleider).32 He had become a poor man ([…] mich armen man […]).33 In gray servants’ clothes he had to beg for food. At last, the story had a happy ending: The emperor recognised that he had done wrong and got back his clothes, crown, and honour. Again, food and clothes were used as material patterns for the discourse about virtues and vices, with the help of the contrast of riches and poverty. The loss of status and honour, directly or indirectly connected with falling into poverty, may also be traced in urban contexts. Let me give one South German example, out of the well-known fifteenth-century Augsburg town chronicle of Burkhard Zink.34 The master-builder of Augsburg, Ulrich Tendrich, had stolen from the town; after being caught in 1462, he was punished by being:

 deprived of his position and, at the same time,  forbidden to carry knives with him any longer, except a small, blunt knife for cutting bread,35  prohibited from wearing clothing made of marten fur, silk, or velvet and from having any silver or gold application on his clothes.

The loss of the right to possess or wear these material objects meant that everyone would be aware that Ulrich had lost his honour: […] man verpot im alles das ze tragen, das aim erbern mann zů gehört. Although not

32 Ibidem, 42, vv. 648-9. 33 Ibidem, 31, v. 280. 34 Chronik des Burkhard Zink 1368-1468, ed. Carl von Hegel, Die Chroniken der schwäbischen Städte: Augsburg, vol. 2, Die Chroniken der deutschen Städte vom 14. bis ins 16. Jahrhundert 5 (Leipzig, 1866, reprint Stuttgart, 1965), 283-4. See also Gerhard Jaritz, “Norm und Praxis in der mittelalterlichen Sachkultur. ‘Widerspruch’ und ‘Entsprechung’,” in Norm und Praxis im Alltag des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Quellen und Materialien 2 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997), 18. 35 This is the usual formula used in any prohibitions of carrying arms.

157 Gerhard Jaritz emphasised explicitly, it seems clear that by having lost his function and position; by being deprived of important objects of his material culture and life-style he had also become ‘poor’. All these aforementioned ‘poverties’ were clearly recognisable material ones and, in most cases, indispensably connected with other losses or lacks: of power, authority, position, function, social status, acceptance, and so on.36 Poverty as a lack of wealth and social status can also be found in sources which emphasise the situation, without stressing any loss, that someone possessed only the basic material necessities like food or clothes. Testaments contain such information, as, for instance, the last will of Peter Reschl, the servant of a Viennese burgher, from 1398.37 He instructed that his clothes be used to pay his debts, emphasising at the same time that he did not possess anything other than those clothes. One finds similar methods of the use of such well-known material signs in all the texts about significant cases of voluntary poverty, as in the legend cycles of Saint Francis, Saint Dominic, Saint Clare, Saint Elisabeth of Thuringia, and so on, and all their followers.38 The main difference and contrast to the aforementioned cases, however, is that, in the examples of these saintly people such a situation did not lead to a loss but to the gain of spiritual and religious power and authority. The concentration on well-known material objects in context with the sign language of poverty also could play a role in the discourses about various cases of, shall we say, ‘replacement of poor people’. Two examples may clarify such a situation. In the Liber oblationum et anniversariorum of the Scots’ monastery in Vienna, one finds a fifteenth- century entry about the donation of some money to the community to be used, among other things, for providing paupers with meat and bread:

Iohannis Ernst anniv. Pro hoc dantur annuatim 3 floreni de domo iuxta waghaus, 1 florenus ad sacristiam pro laboribus, 1 florenus pro missis, 1 florenus pro carnibus et panibus pauperibus distribuendis.39

36 See also Simon-Muscheid, “Sozialer Abstieg im Mittelalter.” 37 Die Wiener Stadtbücher 1395-1430, Teil 1: 1395-1400, ed. Wilhelm Brauneder and Gerhard Jaritz, Fontes rerum Austriacarum III/10, 1 (Vienna and Cologne: Böhlau, 1989), 190, n. 292: 1398 September 4. 38 See Klaniczay, “The Sign Language of the ‘Pauperes Christi’.” 39 “Necrologium monasterii Scotorum Vindobonensis,’ in Monumenta Germaniae

158 Poverty Constructions and Material Culture

A later sixteenth-century addition to this entry emphasised that this donation should be used for the members of the monastic community themselves because the monks were also paupers in the Lord:

Sed nunc sacristanus totum recipit pro conventu, quia etiam et nos monachi pauperes sumus in domino licet sine defectu et mendicacione ex libro capitulari.40

This shows the construction of poverty and ‘material needs’ out of the proper monastic ‘spiritual and material poverty’. A similar example can be found earlier, in 1230, at the female Benedictine convent of Santa Maria in the Upper Italian town of Aquileia. Again, the context of an anniversary donation to the community led to such a ‘replacement of paupers’.41 The donation contained bread, beans, cheese (4 starios panis et 1 starium fabarum in quibus si non fuerit ieiunium unus caseus 16 denarios monete Aquilegensis valens ponatur), on fast days oil (8 libre olei in eisdem fabis ponantur), and wine (2 urne vini) to be given to the poor, but only, if there was enough bread and wine for the nuns themselves. If there was a shortage or even a lack of poor people, then these victuals were to be shared by the nuns. Here, the range of ‘poverty’ was clearly extended to improve the community’s own material situation. The nuns themselves could take over the function of ‘actual paupers’ in the economic sense. Again, another ‘construction of poverty’ seems to have worked and become legitimate, using a similar range of material objects, that is, a sign language of poverty.

Historica, Necrologia Germaniae V., Dioecesis Pataviensis (Austria inferior), ed. Adalbert Franz Fuchs (reprint Munich: Monumenta Germaniae Historica, 1983), 307, November 12. 40 Ibidem. See also Gerhard Jaritz, “The Good and the Bad Example, or: Making Use of Le Petit Peuple in Late Medieval Central Europe,” in Le petit peuple dans l’Occident médiéval. Terminologie, perceptions, réalités, ed. Pierre Boglioni, Robert Delort and Claude Gauvard (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002), 90. 41 1230 January 26, Aquileia (Die älteren Urkunden des Klosters S. Maria zu Aquileia (1036-1250), ed. Reinhard Härtel (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2005), 191-3, n. 102); see also Gerhard Jaritz, “Vita materiale e spiritualità. Monachesimo e aspetti della vita quotidiana nel tardo medioevo,” in Il monachesimo benedettino in Friuli in età patriarcale, ed. Cesare Scalon (Udine: Forum, 2002), 145.

159 Gerhard Jaritz

Let me summarise. Medieval sources regularly deal with problems of ‘poverty’ and ‘becoming poor.’ Such ‘poverties’ in the sources referred to various situations and to members of widely differing groups in society. These ‘poverties’ were regularly connected with economic or social loss. In all of these contexts, the ‘sign language of poverty’ played important roles: Material objects and groups of things, specific behaviour and gestures were drawn on to characterise and communicate this impoverishment. Patterns are discernible. The strong and also regular emphasis on contrasts was meant to strengthen the effect and ‘success’ of the descriptions. The everyday matters of food, nutrition, and clothing seem to have been the most common identifying means in such descriptions and discourses of poverty. The same or similar phenomena or changes in these areas of material culture can also be found in texts dealing with beggars, victims of natural catastrophes, members of monastic communities, impoverished burghers or noblemen, rulers who had lost their power, and so on. Any economic and social loss or lack could become connected with a problematic situation in material life-style, particularly with regard to food and dress. Any ‘constructions of poverty’ can be seen as connected with the application or occurrence of material signs of poverty that were often not distinct from each other. One recognises that, in the late Middle Ages, there was an appropriate and easily understandable material ‘sign language of poverty’ that could be connected to the multiplicity of different kinds and types of ‘the poor’ and their treatment in any kind of media.

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The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space: Patterns and Constructions*

To recognize and to be recognized may be seen as one of the main criteria of medieval culture and communication. This holds particularly true with regard to the construction, use and perception of signs of (social) equality and difference, of oneself and the ‘others’, with the help of any incidentals of outer appearance. Dress, accessories, gestures, various types of behaviour and so on, that is, generally, all kinds and aspects of the languages of (material) signs and their dialects made the creation and utilization of identification marks possible. Late medieval images especially, which were often produced in and for urban space, afford an opportunity to discuss the representation of such visual signs of social identification, integration and segregation as well as their use by and for the members of diverse groups of medieval society, and in this case, town society in particular. Here the well-known means and subjects of contrast were used regularly:1 the difference and opposition of acceptance and rejection, of integration and segregation, of positive and negative, of the good and the bad played important roles. Patterns were developed and applied for such categorizations. They were

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space: Patterns and Constructions” in Segregation, Integration, Assimilation: Religious and Ethnic Groups in the Medieval Towns of Central and Eastern Europe, ed. Derek Keene, Balázs Nagy, Katalin Szende (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2009), 235-50. 1 Concerning the importance of the use of contrasts in medieval discourse, see Gerhard Jaritz (ed.), Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 5 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000).

Gerhard Jaritz supposed to make the general identification of oneself and the ‘others’ possible, this being indispensable for any kind of well-ordered life. Conventions and norms influenced these patterns of outer appearance and their evaluation crucially. One need only consider the wide range of (urban) sumptuary laws designed to regulate many spheres of human activities and material culture.2 In them, dress played a particular role.3 Medieval items of clothing received their meaning and connotations only in context – with the status, position and function of their wearers, with the occasions at which they were used and the actions with which they were associated, with the type of representation in which they were utilized, and so on. Without such a context, they might remain meaningless or bear an ambiguous connotation. For example, a piece of dress that may have created a positive image of its wearer in one context, may in another one, or with regard to a person of different status and

2 Concerning late medieval sumptuary laws generally, see especially Frances Elizabeth Baldwin, Sumptuary Legislation and Personal Regulation in England (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1926); Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer und territorialer Kleider-, Aufwands- und Luxusgesetzgebung in Deutschland (13. bis Mitte 16. Jahrhundert),” in Renaissance du pouvoir législatif et genèse de l’État, ed. André Gouron and Albert Rigaudiére, Publications de la Société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit II (Montpellier: Société d’Histoire du Droit et des Institutions des Anciens Pays de Droit Écrit, 1988), 29-57; Alan Hunt, Governance of the Consuming Passions: A History of Sumptuary Law (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996); Catherine Kovesi Killerby, Italian Sumptuary Legislation, 1200-1500 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002); Disciplinare il lusso: La legislazione suntuaria in Italia e in Europa tra Medioevo ed Età moderna, ed. Maria Giuseppina Muzzarelli and Antonella Campanini (Rome: Carocci, 2003). 3 Gerhard Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz: Unterschiedliche Identitäten in der städtischen Gesellschaft unter Normierungszwangen,” Saeculum 44 (1993), 8-31. See also G. Jaritz, “Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages,” The Medieval History Journal 3/2 (2000), 235- 59; G. Jaritz, “Images, Urban Space, and the Language and Grammar of Elite Dress (Central Europe, 15th Century),” in Le verbe, l’image et les représentations de la société urbaine au Moyen Âge: Actes du colloque international tenu a Marche-en-Famenne du 24 au 27 octobre 2001, ed. Marc Boone, Elodie Lecuppre-Desjardin and Jean- Pierre Soisson, Studies in Urban Social, Economic and Political History of the Medieval and Early Modern Low Countries, 13 (Antwerp and Apeldoorn: Garant, 2002), 219-25 and 286-90.

162 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space function, have aroused negative connotations and messages. Without knowing such contexts late medieval people might have been as much at a loss to make identifications as today’s historians who analyse such signs.4

Fig. 10.1. Beggars as representatives of urban “otherness” Acts of Mercy: feeding the poor (detail), on the wall of the cloister walk, eleventh arcade, wall painting, 1420/1430 (Brixen/Bressanone, South Tyrol, Santa Maria Assunta cathedral and cloister; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

With all these possibilities an idealized picture and stereotypical knowledge about oneself and the ‘others’ were created and reinforced. This made recognition, connotation and evaluation possible in any, often at first sight unfamiliar, cases where the identification of ‘others’ and of members of one’s own social strata was necessary. I will present a

4 Concerning the context-bound role and function of medieval costume and dress, see, in particular, Andrea-Martina Reichel, “Die Kleider der Passion: Für eine Ikonographie des Kostüms,” Phil. Diss. (Berlin: Humboldt-Universität, 1998), https://edoc.hu-berlin.de/handle/18452/15091 (last access September 20, 2019).

163 Gerhard Jaritz number of examples referring to the construction and patterns of these phenomena, mainly using visual source evidence from late medieval Central and East Central European areas, from religious as well as from secular urban space.5 ‘Otherness’ is a term that has to be understood in a broad variety of meanings. It includes, for instance, all the accepted and assimilated groups of people who differed from the majority, yet for various reasons were seen as indispensable parts of society. As such, they had to be visually represented, mainly in the interests of motivating the beholders. They included, for instance, people in need whom one had to support, dress, feed and house, or generally on whom one was supposed to exercise one’s works of charity: paupers and beggars (Fig. 10.1), poor priests and virgins, destitute students, prisoners worthy of help and so on. All these human creatures were often to be seen as ‘others’, clearly recognizable as such and evaluated without much difficulty. Normally they were to be communicated with positively – at least in the context of the support which they needed and that the Church encouraged offering them. In the framework of their perception and representation, these ‘others’, however, could also be changed to the most important and most positive ‘other one’ of this world and the afterlife, namely Christ himself: ‘Inasmuch as ye have done [it] unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done [it] unto me’ (Mt 25:40, KJV; Fig. 10.2). Paupers were much easier to identify as being ‘others’ than people who in their outer appearance, behaviour and social origin were nearer to the beholders of the images, and were only recognizable as ‘others’ with the help of the specific contexts in which they appeared. In these contexts they could or should become a kind of warning for their audience. They communicated that the latter themselves might already be in danger of falling into or drifting towards a segregated ‘otherness’; for instance, by being members of the lively group of dancers on the main square of a Tyrol town whom the father of St Vitus had used in his unsuccessful attempt to seduce his son to participate in the vain material joys of this world (Fig. 10.3).

5 As a collection of visual sources from this area see, in particular, the URL https://realonline.imareal.sbg.ac.at/ of the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit (Krems).

164 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space

Fig. 10.2. Christ as the pauper to be fed Acts of Mercy: feeding the poor, represented by Christ (detail), wall painting, end of the fourteenth century (Levoča, Slovakia, St James parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

If one met them on the road one might not have recognized them as negative ‘others’ or ‘others’-to-be; only the explicit context helped them to be recognized as such, or at least as representatives of the danger facing everyone of becoming different from what one was supposed to be in a well-ordered urban society. The same is also true of the burghers of Bamberg, who, having recognized the vanities of this world with the help of the sermons of St John Capistrano and having consigned them to the flames, are now on the way back, not only relieved of their reprehensible material possessions but rescued from spiritual ‘otherness’ as well (Fig. 10.4).

165 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 10.3. Representatives of worldly and vain joys St Vitus altar panel on which St Vitus renounces the worldly life and abdicates vain joys (detail), Kölderer-workshop, panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1510/1520 (Innsbruck, Tiroler Landesmuseum – Ferdinandeum, Inv. no. 67; © Ferdinandeum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

166 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space

Fig. 10.4. Bonfire with burning of vanities at the occasion of St John Capistrano’s sermon at the Cathedral Square of Bamberg St John Capistrano’s Sermon and the Burning of Vanities (detail); Sebald Bopp (?), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1470/1475 (Bamberg, Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz, Inv. no. L 1573; © Bamberg Staatsgalerie, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

A comparable situation is communicated in the South German world chronicle of Hartmann Schedel (Nuremberg, 1493), which tells the story about couples at Utrecht dancing on a bridge (Fig. 10.5). They did not stop even when a priest passed by on his way to a sick person with the Eucharist. Having forgotten about the gratitude which they owed to God

167 Gerhard Jaritz and having failed to venerate the Eucharist, they were punished by the Lord: the bridge broke, and the chronicle reports that two hundred people were drowned. Those people’s negative ‘otherness’ could not have been recognized by the visual representation alone; one needed the explanatory written context to understand.

Fig. 10.5. Worldly joys leading to forgetfulness of gratitude towards God Nuremberg Chronicle / Liber Chronicarum (details, fol. 217r), Hartmann Schedel (1440–1514), illustrations by Michael Wolgemut and Wilhelm Pleydenwurff, early print with coloured woodcuts, Nuremberg: Anton Koberger, 1493 (Weimar, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Inc. 119; photo: Hartmann Schedel: Weltchronik. Kolorierte Gesamtausgabe von 1493. (Nachdruck der “Weltchronik” des Exemplars der Stiftung Weimarer Klassik, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Sign. Inc. 119). Einleitung und Kommentar von Stephan Füssel. Köln: Taschen Verlag, 2001, fol. 217r)

In the folios of Hartmann Schedel’s world chronicle, one is also confronted with other types of, this time, clearly recognizable ‘others’ whose visual representation was regularly to be found in illustrated chronicles. This is the kind of ‘otherness’ that was communicated by

168 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space human monstrosities, like a miraculous lion born to a woman in the diocese of Constance or the conjoined twins given birth to by a woman in the Swabian town of Esslingen, who died soon after having been born (Fig. 10.6).

Fig. 10.6. The conjoined twins from Esslingen Nuremberg Chronicle / Liber Chronicarum (details, fol. 217r), Hartmann Schedel (1440–1514), illustrations by Michael Wolgemut and Wilhelm Pleydenwurff, early print with coloured woodcuts, Nuremberg: Anton Koberger, 1493 (Weimar, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Inc. 119; photo: Hartmann Schedel: Weltchronik. Kolorierte Gesamtausgabe von 1493. (Nachdruck der “Weltchronik” des Exemplars der Stiftung Weimarer Klassik, Herzogin Anna Amalia Bibliothek, Sign. Inc. 119). Einleitung und Kommentar von Stephan Füssel. Köln: Taschen Verlag, 2001, fol. 217r)

Let us return from the monstrous world of ‘otherness’ in towns to the visual representations in urban religious space. There were also all those negative ‘others’ from the Bible and the legends of saints who had to be shown in the various images displayed in churches. One could identify these too easily enough because of well-known patterns of outer appearance that were used for their visual representation. There are, for instance, the heretics whom St Dominic had to deal with in a panel

169 Gerhard Jaritz painting of c. 1490 (Fig. 10.7). They are characterized by their physiognomy, their devilish grins, gestures and body language, their orientalizing attire and their rather awkward guise as officials or learned persons.

Fig. 10.7. Heretics as representatives of “otherness” Disputation of St Dominicus with the heretics on one of the “working day” side wings of a Virgin Mary altar, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Klosterneuburg, Lower Austria, Stiftssammlungen, Inv. no. GM 69; © Stift Klosterneuburg, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Their appearance is similar to the one of negative ‘others’ who played decisive roles in the Passion of Christ or the martyrdom of various saints; for instance, the ones who killed St Thiemo, Archbishop of Salzburg, in Ascalon – the urban space of which is transformed into a Central European town (Fig. 10.8). The appearance of such ‘others’ in late medieval images could be independent of time and space. Orientalizing items of male clothing,

170 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space headgear (particularly pointed hats, like the well-known stereotypical Jewish pileus cornutus), striped dress,6 uncommon physiognomy,7 a dark complexion, the colour yellow and so on – all of these were used to characterize and signify different negative others past and present, from ‘here’ or ‘there’. Negative ‘orientals’ could, therefore, turn up to kill St Thomas Becket at Canterbury (Fig. 10.9), and were clearly and generally recognizable as the villains, without any necessary attachment to a specific area or action. These phenomena may also lead to the assumption that such stereotypical constructions need not have had much to do with those religious and ethnic ‘others’ whom one might have actually met in Central European towns. There could have been some convergence, for instance, concerning the darker complexion of people, some eastern peculiarities of dress or its closeness to matters being declined by conventions or sumptuary laws; but, in general, those representations, the ‘orientalizing’ ones in particular, mediated another ‘reality’.8

6 See Michel Pastoureau, The Devil’s Cloth: A History of Stripes and Striped Fabric (New York: Columbia University Press, 2001). 7 The represented physiognomy may be sometimes rather similar to the one of paupers or other people in need. Again, the context determined if one should evaluate those depicted as persons to be supported or condemned. Concerning such representations of uncommon physiognomy to be seen as ‘emotional outburst’, and its meaning, see Gerhard Jaritz, “The Destruction of Things in the Late Middle Ages: Outburst versus Control of Emotions,” in Emotions and Material Culture, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit 7, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2003), 67. 8 Concerning other examples of such construction and use of ‘orientalizing’ patterns of outer appearance, see Ernő Marosi, “Zur Frage des Quellenwertes mittelalterlicher Darstellungen: “Orientalismus’ in der Ungarischen Bilderchronik,” in Alltag und materielle Kultur im mittelalterlichen Ungarn, Medium Aevum Quotidianum, 22, ed. András Kubinyi and József Laszlovszky (Krems, 1991), 74-107 (‘orientalizing’ patterns as a kind of ‘self-portrait’ of the Hungarian nation); Julian Raby, Venice, Dürer and the Oriental Mode, The Hans Huth Memorial Studies I (Totowa, New Jersey: Sotheby/Islamic Art Publications, 1982); Joyce Kubiski, “Orientalizing Costume in Early Fifteenth- Century French Manuscript Painting (Cité des Dames Master, Limbourg Brothers, Boucicaut Master, and Bedford Master),” Gesta XL/2 (2001), 161-80.

171 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 10.8. The murderers of St Thiemo The decapitation of St Thiemo scene from an altar originally placed in Klosterneuburg (detail), master of the Viennese Heiligenmartyrien, panel painting, tempera on wood, end of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Inv. no. 4873; © ÖG Belvedere, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

172 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space

Fig. 10.9. The “oriental” murderers of St Thomas Becket The decapitation of St Thomas Becket scene from an altar originally placed in Neustift bei Brixen (detail), Michael Pacher (around 1435–1498), panel painting, tempera on wood, 1460/1465 (Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 326; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

In seeking differences and developments in the visual representation of ‘others’, one also has to be aware of the distinct possibilities for the dissemination and perception of the images. There were different levels of public and less public presentation and access. Quite regularly one comes across the pattern that public representations contained a more drastic portrayal. Less public representations (for instance in manuscripts), by contrast, sometimes concentrated on rather different and more detailed information that could also influence the types of

173 Gerhard Jaritz

‘others’ portrayed and the manner of their depiction. Taking The Illustrated Bern Chronicles of Diepold Schilling9 as an example, one comes across themes of urban ‘otherness’ depicted that cannot be found in the usual public-space representations. Some of them follow the common patterns mentioned above; others are only to be understood with the help of their written context. There is the picture of gypsies, that is, ‘the black baptized heathens from Egypt’, who appeared at Bern in 1419 and are shown constantly stealing;10 there is also ‘otherness’ that was created in one’s own community, as the depicted concubines of the town’s priests (1405) are intended to show;11 or – an example of ‘otherness’ in the context of the well-known pattern of ‘the world upside-down’12 – a fight in the town between a man and a woman that the latter won13 – the importance which was attributed to such an event of ‘otherness’ is clearly shown by the fact that the picture refers to an event dated 1288! A new influence on the visual representation of ‘others’ in urban space was the development of printing and the emerging mass- production of woodcuts, copper engravings and broadsheets at the turn of the fifteenth century. Multiple editions of some hundreds or even thousands of impressions created not only new possibilities for dissemination and new audiences but new topics as well, and among them new ‘others’.14 I will not deal here with all the constructions of ‘vice versa-otherness’ in the course of the Reformation or with the political broadsheets that appeared from the end of the fifteenth century onwards and represented a large variety of negatively connoted ‘others’.

9 In this case the so-called ‘Spiezer Berner Chronik’ from 1484/85. See Note 10, below. 10 Urs Martin Zahnd, “Textedition,” in Die Schweiz im Mittelalter in Diebold Schillings Spiezer Bilderchronik, ed. Hans Haeberli and Christoph von Steiger (Luzern: Faksimile Verlag, 1991), 435 and 572. 11 Ibidem, 365 and 540. 12 Concerning the world upside-down see, for instance, Helmut Hundsbichler, “Im Zeichen der “verkehrten Welt”,” in Symbole des Alltags – Alltag der Symbole, ed. Gertrud Blaschitz et al. (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1992), 555-70; Christa Grössinger, The World Upside-Down: English Misericords (London: Harvey Miller Publishers, 1997). 13 Haeberli and Steiger (ed.), Die Schweiz im Mittelalter, 194, 471 and plate 112. 14 See, for instance, Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives: Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago and London: Chicago University Press, 1989).

174 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space

Fig. 10.10. Landknechte, mercenary soldiers as murderers and torturers of St John the Baptist The decapitation of St John the Baptist scene (detail), panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1520 (Levoča, Slovakia, St James parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

There was one special group of people, however, who were obviously perceived as ‘others’ and with whom the urban society of the area had special problems at the beginning of the sixteenth century, as written and, particularly, woodcut evidence confirms: these were the Landsknechts. These mercenary soldiers, who often had forsaken a craft and come near to or already entered into criminality, became a phenomenon difficult for the towns and town authorities to handle.15 For such reasons their

15 See, for instance, Brigitte Rath, “Zur Repräsentation von Gewalt, oder: Landsknechte in Tirol zu Beginn des 16. Jahrhunderts,” Militär und Gesellschaft in der Frühen Neuzeit. Bulletin 6,1 (2002), 7-21; Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives,

175 Gerhard Jaritz

‘otherness’ had to be made visual, and thus criticized widely, sometimes by showing the contrasts between the mercenaries’ life and the one which they had led before. Their outer appearance was also taken over for the visual representation of negative figures in religious urban space. Torturers in saints’ martyrdoms could, for instance, easily take on the appearance similar to Landsknechts (Fig. 10.10). Two of the most familiar patterns of the construction of ‘otherness’ remained very popular or increased in popularity in connection with the improved possibilities of disseminating visual messages. These were the ‘others’ whom one finds throughout the Middle Ages in a number of different textual discourses: in literature, sermons, didactic treatises, chronicles, and so on. It was an ‘otherness’ connected with any kind of deviation from the good order of society, for which two ‘low’ groups were particularly predestined: women and peasants. As already shown, the vogue for female ‘otherness’ has to be seen as related to the (visual) implementation of patterns of the world upside down, that is, the inversion of gender roles.16 The peasants’ ‘otherness’ was made plain – with the help of representations of their dumpiness and their chaotic festivals, dances and weddings17 – in illustrations and sheets which were clearly meant to be widely published in urban space, as Keith Moxey was able to show so well in his study of Nuremberg broadsheets. The urban tavern was one place where satiric peasant, woman and Landsknecht prints were affixed in order to make fun of these ‘others’ and, at the same time, to instruct the rest of society.18 ‘Otherness’ in and for late medieval urban space has to be recognized as full of variants and possibilities, being dependent on a number of relevant contexts. On the one hand, such ‘others’ could be quite divergent; on the other hand, and particularly in their visual representation, they were often constructed following similar or even the

67-100. 16 Concerning the Battle of the Sexes in the early prints, see Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives, 101-26. See also Christa Grössinger, Picturing Women in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1997). 17 See Hans-Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren. Enstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst ca. 1470-1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen, 1986); Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives, 35-66. 18 Ibidem, 50-1 and 93-6.

176 The Visual Image of the ‘Other’ in Late Medieval Urban Space same patterns of outer appearance, gesture or material culture. In this way, torturers of saints, religious and ethnic ‘others’, members of the lower groups of society, paupers and so on, although distinct from each other according to context, could end up looking similar and become ‘one group’. To make them easily recognizable, the sign languages of various ‘urban othernesses’ shaped them alike. Therefore, they should perhaps be seen as mere dialects of one and the same language. ‘Closeness of distance’19 was constructed. Such phenomena call for further intensive comparative analysis. Research into the visual image of ‘others’ in late medieval urban space opens up rich opportunities in this direction.

19 Concerning religious images see, generally, Gerhard Jaritz, “Nähe und Distanz als Gebrauchsfunktion spätmittelalterlicher religiöser Bilder,” in Frömmigkeit im Mittelalter. Politisch-soziale Kontexte, visuelle Praxis, körperliche Ausdrucksformen, ed. Klaus Schreiner (Munich: Fink, 2002), 331-46.

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The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves*

Item at Mayerling he stole a skirt from a maidservant and sold it at Traiskirchen for 6 ß den. Item at Fallsbach he stole a ram and sold it at Grünbach for 50 den. Item at Schauersberg he stole a horse from Egassell and sold it in the Scharten near Eferding for 12 ß den. ______Three confessions out of 48 made by the thief Hans Swarczenperger in 14621

On May 18, 1462, a man named Hans Swarczenperger was executed on the gallows in the Lower Austrian market town of Spitz at the Danube which was, at this time, under the administration of the dukes of Bavaria. Three weeks before, he was caught there when trying to steal a crossbow in the house of the local judge. In the accounts of the representative of the Bavarian duke in Spitz one finds the expenses for the legal proceedings against Hans and his execution and, at the end of the account book, a single sheet of paper that contains the confessions of

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves” in Strategies of Remembrance. From Pindar to Hölderlin, ed. Lucie Doležalova (Newcastle on Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009), 225-32. 1 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Probleme um ein Diebsgeständnis des 15. Jahrhunderts,” 21. Jahrbuch des Musealvereins Wels 1977/78 (1978), 82, confession 13-15: “Item zu Merling hat er ainer dieren gestollen ainen rokch, den hat er verkaufft Dreskirchen umb 6 ß. den. Item zu Falspach hat er gestollen ainen wider, den hat er verkauft zu Grunpach umb 50 den. Item dem Egassell zu Schaursperig hat er gestollen ain roß und hat das verkaufft in der Scharten bei Euerding umb 12 ß. den.”

The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves the thief.2 Besides the mentioned attempt to steal the crossbow in Spitz, he confessed 48 other thefts with the description of the stolen goods, in nearly two thirds of the cases animals, sometimes clothes or textiles, or other objects of daily life (grain, pewter, hoes, and a long knife), only three times money. These descriptions are sometimes rather detailed: like that he stole “money out of a piece of cloth on a table”; or “three sheep at night out of a stable”; or “three sheep under a tree”, and so on.3 71 times he named the villages, often very small ones, or towns where he had committed a theft and, more rarely, where he had sold the stolen goods; the latter up to 10 km away from the place of the theft. All the places are in Upper Austria in the area of Wels, south of Linz, and, more scattered, in Lower Austria along the Danube.4 28 times he mentioned the name and/or the status of the people from whom he had stolen or to whom he sold the stolen goods. 45 times he confessed an exact amount of money that he had received for selling the stolen goods. It is rather clear that he did not do any written book-keeping. In the list, there is quite a disorder of the individual confessions; they do not follow a persistent system. Only three times two thefts are mentioned together, which concern places close to each other that let us assume that one of those thefts was committed after the other one. Altogether, however, one can clearly recognize the two mentioned main areas of his stealing activities: two thirds of his thefts were committed in Upper Austria in a relatively narrow area that he obviously left when it became to hot for him there. Then he moved over to Lower Austria where he stole, out of caution, in less confined areas. Sometimes the order of his confessions seems to be based on other contexts to memorize the individual parts of the story. The two thefts of grain follow each other in the list as well as the two thefts of pewter. Also those stealing activities that he described as having committed together with accomplices are to be found close to each other in his confessions.

2 Ibidem, 77-86. 3 Ibidem, 81: “[…] Fridlein dem Tewffel zu Wels hat er gestollen 2 tl. den. in seinem haws auf ainem tisch in ainem tuchlein. […]”; Ibidem, 86: “[…] hat er gestollen drew schaff untter ainem pawm […]”; “ […] hat er gestollen 3 schoff bei der nacht aus ainem stall […]”. 4 See the maps in ibidem, 84-85.

179 Gerhard Jaritz

It is quite obvious that one is not confronted with “textual memory” but with an evidence of “oral memory”. Hans Swarczenperger’s confessions represent very detailed statements that suggest, for today’s understanding, an unusual memory performance. His confessions, however, are not a singular case. One finds some other lists of such kind. In 1489, in the Swabian town of Ellwangen, the thief Lienhart Frey confessed around 50 thefts in a very detailed way, committed in villages and towns around Ellwangen, in churches, houses and other dwellings. Most often he stole clothes.5 In 1483, again in Ellwangen, the cartwright- servant Claus Wil demonstrated exceptional detailedness in his list of individual confessions. In one of them, for instance, he stated: “Item when he was little and a boy, he took out money of the purse of his father one or four times.”6 Other details and special types of actions were regularly relevant. The same Claus Wil confessed a larger number of thefts done by slinking into houses, creeping under beds and waiting for the night until the residents of the houses had fallen asleep. Then he stole the valuables of the sleepers which they had securely saved under their pillows or cushions.7 In such confessions, one is confronted with the tendency or wish to receive and offer a large, sometimes, let us say, complete list of all the committed thefts, in maximum detailedness. It seems that the interrogators wanted to show the profile of a “professional criminal” whom they had forced, often by torture, to describe and confess all of his or her crimes.8 One certainly also has to consider the possible wish of the delinquent to offer a large quantity of confessions: on the one hand, in context with torture, to finish the procedure and pain, on the

5 Peter Schuster, “Die mittelalterliche Stadtgesellschaft vom Eigentum her denken. Gerichtsquellen und Mentalitäten im späten Mittelalter? in Stadt und Recht im Mittelalter. La ville et le droit au Moyen Âge, ed. Pierre Monnet and Otto Gerhard Oexle, Veröffentlichungen des Max-Planck-Instituts für Geschichte 174 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 2003), 174. 6 Ibidem, 173, note 25: “Item die will er klain und ain knab gewesen sei, hab er seinem vater einmal oder viere gelt uß der taschen genomen.” 7 Ibidem, 174. 8 Ibidem, 173: “Es geht in diesen Verhören selten um einzelne Diebstähle, sondern das Bemühen der Verhörenden ist darauf gerichtet, das Profil eines Berufsverbrechers sichtbar zu machen, der aus der Tiefe seiner Biographie und seines Gedächtnisses möglichst alle Verbrechen berichten und gestehen soll.”

180 The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves other hand, also as a matter of prestige. Thefts most often meant death penalty anyway, and it might have shown the delinquent’s extraordinary abilities and successes in his profession, when confessing a large number of crimes in a very detailed way. One certainly also has to consider a phenomenon that was mainly found out in the analysis of testimonies at court cases. The German ethnographer Karl-Sigismund Kramer created the term “vicious memory” (boshaftes Gedächtnis9) meaning that crimes and malefictions were often remembered for a very long time and in detail by the witnesses at court.10 Such type of memory may perhaps also be assumed for the criminals themselves. In 1389, Guillaume de Bruc, an esquire from Brittany, was imprisoned, accused of many thefts, and brought to trial before the court at the Châtelet in Paris. Under torture, he produced a long and detailed confession of extortions, larcenies, and the rape of a woman. He was condemned to death. On the day of his execution he again and publicly recited a long list of his crimes that was also recorded.11 That might have meant that he wanted to relieve his conscience completely before being executed; it, however, also may lead to the assumption that he intended to make all the successes of his criminal career known to the large public who attended his execution. A number of interrogations and confessions not only concentrated on the crimes but also on their broader context, meaning that also the non-criminal life, the family and other “normal” details were dealt with. The confession of an eighteen-year old guy from Normandy, Sandrin Bourel, in 1493, is again very rich in details concerning his criminal life, but as well with regard to “normal”, non-criminal activities, his education, profession, employers, wages, family members, and more narration referring to the contexts of his delicts.12 One example of these recollected contexts and details that he confessed at his trial in the Abbey of Montivilliers may be given:

9 Karl-Sigismund Kramer, Bauern und Bürger im nachmittelalterlichen Unterfranken. Eine Volkskunde aufgrund archivalischer Quellen (Würzburg: Schöningh, 1957), 57. 10 See also Klaus Graf, “Justiz und Erinnerung in der Frühen Neuzeit,” in Justiz und Gerechtigkeit: historische Beiträge (16.-19. Jahrhundert), ed. Andrea Griesebner (Innsbruck: Studien-Verlag, 2000), 53-4. 11 James Ross Sweeney, “High Justice in Fifteenth-Century Normandy: the Prosecution of Sandrin Bourel,” Journal of Medieval History 10 (1984), 297. 12 Ibidem, 304-5.

181 Gerhard Jaritz

[…] on the Day of the Holy Cross just passed, […], he came to the fair and in the evening lodged in the house of Andrieu le Vavasseur, called Drouet, where he ate supper for which he paid 12 d. He slept in the bed of the said Drouet with him and his wife, where he had slept before. On the following day he took his meals in the town where he remained until night, just until the time the gates were to close. Then secretly, stealthily, and under cover of night, he crept into the hayloft on the premises of the said Drouet, and there in the said hayloft, in order to pursue his designs, he remained for one day and two nights, living on only half a brioche, which was all he had until Tuesday. Assuming that the said Drouet and his family were asleep, about an hour after midnight he came and entered the house through the back door, retracting the bolt which held the door fast. […] Then he crept under the bed of the said Drouet where he stayed for about half an hour. Believing them all to be asleep, he took a small wooden coffer, which Drouet was accustomed to use as a stepstool to climb into his bed, and put it into the hallway outside the bedroom, with the intention of stealing and carrying it away. Into this coffer he had seen Drouet on the said day of the fair put six or seven livres. And when he had done this, he returned to Drouet’s bed once again, in order to take and steal Drouet’s wallet or purse which was under the bolster of the bed and into which he had seen the said Drouet put a similar sum of six or seven livres. But in hunting and searching through the straw of the bed in order to find this wallet or purse, he awakened Drouet, who seized him […] by the neck and hair, crying in a loud voice to his wife and son […].13

Can one accept the details of such confessions and testimonies as being in accordance with truth? The many geographical specifications put forward by Hans Swarczenperger, for instance, may let us approve for part of his confessions. For other parts of the long list of thefts this does not work as easily. Some historians have doubted the accuracy and truth of such elaborate lists of confessions containing extensive amounts

13 Ibidem, 299.

182 The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves of details.14 One may, for instance, be confronted with the opinion that they “clearly cannot be accepted in all cases, for there is no doubt that some suspects agreed to a false confession in order to put an end to their pain.”15 These doubts and distrust into memory’s accuracy was obviously often not shared by the interrogators and also not by medieval scholars.16 With regard to the question of memory that interests us here, I do not think that it is actually relevant, if all details of the confessions where accurate and true, or not. What I consider important, however, is the obvious relevance that was generally attributed to these many details, to the quasi-completeness of such large numbers of individual confessions and testimonies, and to the apparent matter of course to recollect all of them.17 This detailedness, large quantity and “completeness” could just be asked for, or only be offered in a society whose members lived in a pronounced “memory culture” based on oral tradition (Gedächtniskultur) and, thus, demonstrated profound capabilities of “communicative memory.”18 Such a quotidian “memory culture” certainly also offered continuous possibilities to practice.

14 Henry Charles Lea, Torture. With original documentary sources in translation, ed. Edward Peters (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press 1973, reprint of Henry Charles Lea, Superstition and Force (Philadelphia: H. C. Lea, 1866), part 4), 77: “[…] not a few of the confessions read as though they were fictions composed by the accused in order to escape by death from the interminable suffering to which they were exposed.” Sweeney, “High Justice,” 303. Concerning the problem of the “truth” of testimonies and their details, see also Johannes Fried, Der Schleier der Erinnerung. Grundzüge einer historischen Memorik (Munich: Verlag C. H. Beck, 2004), 175-6. 15 Sweeney, “High Justice,” 303. 16 See Mary Carruthers, The Book of Memory. A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 160: “But in the minds of modern scholars oral transmission raises the question of accuracy; we tend to dismiss memory as a reliable disseminator and instead look solely to writing […] as the agent for all varieties of accurate transmission. Yet, […] medieval scholars simply did not share our distrust of memory’s ‘accuracy’.” 17 Ibidem, 160: “[…] what was valued was completeness, copiousness, rather than ‘objective’ accuracy, as we understand and value it now.” 18 Horst Wenzel, Hören und Sehen, Schrift und Bild: Kultur und Gedächtnis im Mittelalter (Munich: Beck, 1995), 38-9: “Dieser Konzentration auf das Gedächtnis korrespondiert die Tatsache, daß die europäische Kultur über das 16. Jahrhundert hinaus im Wesentlichen eine Gedächtniskultur blieb und sich erst

183 Gerhard Jaritz

The memory of thieves may be seen as an example of orality-based quotidian “business memory” to be applied when needed or suitable. It was part of a “memory culture” not connected with written documentation culture,19 of distinct storage technology based on events and supported by direct experience, linked in a concrete way to the world around, it was always part of a story. Such a pronounced quotidian oral memory seems to have been crucial in many respects, in particular for the lesser folks of medieval society.20 The distinct individual “memory of thieves” rich of contexts and details, and thus often difficultly to be grasped by members of today’s society, was based on the lack of other, non-oral memory supporting media. Thereby, as shown by the groundbreaking studies of Maurice Halbwachs from the twenties and thirties of last century, one certainly also has to be aware of the fact that such individual memory always has to be recognized as a social phenomenon and part of social processes.21 In recollecting and recounting parts of the stories of their lives, the individuals provided versions of their group’s history and of collective memory. Thus, the confessions of the thieves as products of individual memory are only understandable in the framework of their social danach zu einer schriftlichen Dokumentationskultur veränderte […].” Concerning spoken word versus written word see, for instance, Michael T. Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record. England 1066-1307, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 260-6; Yurij Zazulyak, “Ego huic inscriptione non credo, ... ipse scribere potuit, quod voluit: Law, Literacy, and Daily Life in Late Medieval Galicia,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 57 (2008), 12-27. With regard to “communicative memory” (“kommunikatives Gedächtnis”) or “quotidian memory” (“Alltags-Gedächtnis”) before or beside the written word in distinction to “cultural memory” (“kulturelles Gedächtnis”) aloof from everyday life see Aleida and Ian Assmann, “Schrift, Tradition und Kultur,” in Zwischen Alltag und Festtag. Zehn Beiträge zum Thema “Mündlichkeit und Schriftlichkeit,” ed. Wolfgang Raible (Tübingen: Narr, 1988), 28-9. 19 Concerning the relation and connection of “memory culture” and written documentation culture see Wenzel, Hören und Sehen, 39-40. 20 See, e.g., Franco Franceschi, “La mémoire des laboratores à Florence au début du XVe siècle,” Annales E. S. C. 45 (1990), 1143-67. 21 Maurice Halbwachs, Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire (Paris: Librairie Alcan, 1925; recent edition Paris: Albin Michel, 1994), passim. See also Wenzel, Hören und Sehen, 40; Egon Flaig, “Soziale Bedingungen des kulturellen Vergessens,” Vorträge aus dem Warburg-Haus 3 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1999), 35-8.

184 The Memory of Late Medieval Thieves environment. They are the result of social interaction and they again produce social interaction.

Chaque individu d’un groupe utilise, pour évoquer des souvenirs personnels, des souvenirs dominants du groupe; les cadres dela mémoire individuelle sont les mêmes que ceux de la mémoire collective, à savoir: le langage, l’espace et le temps.22

A broader systematic and comparative analysis of such sources like oral confessions of thieves or testimonies of court witnesses may, therefore, offer important new and general results with regard to the structure and development of late medieval (memory) culture. Further investigation of this kind of communicative memory that can be seen as an active structure of order for the organization of quotidian knowledge will provide us with important information which may also prove relevant for the research into textual memory. Concerning our specific area of interest, however, being quotidian memory, without the auxiliary media of written texts, one may proceed to an essentially broader understanding of the various levels of the lesser folk’s cultures of memory, in particular. The “memory of thieves” may then play an important basic role for further research into questions of the construction of memory, the use of memory, the importance of various levels of memory, the intensity of memory, and the variety of contexts in which memory has to be seen.

22 Gérard Namer, “Le contretemps démocratique chez Halbwachs,” in Erinnerung und Gesellschaft. Mémoire et Société. Hommage à Maurice Halbwachs (1877- 1945), ed. Hermann Krapoth and Denis Laborde (Wiesbaden: Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften, 2005), 58.

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Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence*

Images are an important part of any communication.1 They transmit, among other messages, social, cultural, religious, economic, scientific, or political ideas. They help people, both senders and receivers, to recognise, to understand, to teach, to warn, to emotionalize, and so on. Historians’ use of images and analysis of the visual culture of the past always leads to questions about the “reality” of the contents of images, the cultural constructions of “reality effects,”2 and the code systems that determined the statements offered by images.3 Late medieval images, in particular, played an important role in this regard. All the above aspects have to be considered when using images for analysing the visual representation of persons suffering from mental disorders. The importance of seeing the “construction” of disability in the context of the visibility and perceptibility of distinguishing marks has

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence” in Mental (Dis)order in Later Medieval Europe, ed. Sari Katajala-Peltomaa, Susanna Niiranen (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 91-107. 1 See, e.g., Paul Martin Lester, Visual Communication: Images with Messages, 4th ed. (Belmont, CA: Thomson Wadsworth, 2006). 2 Roland Barthes, “The Reality Effect,” in Roland Barthes, The Rustle of Language, trans. Richard Howard (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1989), 141-8. Concerning late medieval art, see Keith Moxey, “Reading the ‘Reality Effect’,” in Pictura quasi fictura: Die Rolle des Bildes in der Erforschung von Alltag und Sachkultur des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), 15- 21. 3 See, e.g., Ernst H. Gombrich, “Image and Code: Scopes and Limits of Conventionalism in Pictorial Representation,” in Image and Code, ed. Wendy Steiner (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1981), 11-42.

Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence been generally recognised in all fields of Disability Studies.4 This is certainly true for the medieval pictorial evidence that will be used as a source material in this contribution. The chapter concentrates on such visual evidence, its signs, symbolic character, patterns, and their development, which were, in a religious context, mainly meant for a more or less learned public of non-specialists in the field of medicine: from members of monastic houses to the broad scope of churchgoers of different social, cultural, and intellectual levels. I will use pictorial material originating from Central Europe, from the end of the thirteenth to the beginning of the sixteenth century.5 However, specific medical images, being mainly illustrations in medical manuscripts, are not handled here.6

4 Anne Waldschmidt, “Macht – Wissen – Körper. Anschlüsse an Michel Foucault in den Disability Studies,” in Disability Studies. Kultursoziologie und Soziologie der Behinderung, ed. Anne Waldschmidt and Werner Schneider (Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2007), 55-77, at 64: “[…] die Bedeutung des Sehens für die Konstruktion von ‘Behinderung’ über den Stellenwert von Visibilität und Wahrnehmbarkeit von Merkmalen verhandeln.” See also Andere Bilder. Zur Produktion von Behinderung in der visuellen Kultur, ed. Beate Ochsner and Anna Grebe (Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2013), 7-8. Concerning images of mental illness in modern mass media, see Martin Halliwell, Images of Idiocy: the Idiot Figure in Modern Fiction and Film (Aldershot and Burlington: Ashgate, 2004); Otto F. Wahl, Media Madness: Public Images of Mental Illness (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1995). 5 The images are taken from realonline, the Central European image database of the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit of the University of Salzburg in Krems, Austria (https://realonline.imareal.sbg.ac.at/). The database contains c. 25,000, in detail described, images of panel and wall paintings, manuscript illuminations, and so on, from the period of the 13th century to c. 1600 that are originating from today’s Austria, Southern Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Transylvania, Slovenia, and South Tyrol. 6 There is a large number of studies on medieval medical illustrations; see, e.g., Loren C. MacKinney, “Medical Illustrations in Medieval Manuscripts of the Vatican Library,” Manuscripta 3 (1959), 3-18 and 76-88; Loren C. MacKinney, “Medieval Medical Miniatures in Central and Eastern European Collections,” Manuscripta 5 (1961), 131-50; Loren C. MacKinney and Thomas Herndon, “American Manuscript Collections of Medieval Medical Miniatures and Texts,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 17 (1962), 284-307; Loren C. MacKinney and Thomas Herndon, Medical Illustrations in Medieval Manuscripts, 2 vols. (London: Wellcome Historical Medical Library, and Berkeley: University of California Press, 1965); Robert Herrlinger, History of Medical Illustration, from Antiquity to 1600 (London: Pitman Medical & Scientific Publishing Co., 1970);

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Fig. 12.1. Miraculous healing from epilepsy Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), master of the Brucker Martinstafel, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1518/1522 (Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Helmut Vogt, Das Bild des Kranken: die Darstellung äusserer Veränderungen durch innere Leiden und ihrer Heilmassnahmen von der Renaissance bis in unsere Zeit, 2nd ed. (Munich: Bergmann, 1980); Peter Murray Jones, Medieval Medical Miniatures (London: British Museum, 1984); Peter Murray Jones, Medieval Medicine in Illuminated Manuscripts (London: British Library, 1998); Peter Murray Jones, “Image, Word, and Medicine in the Middle Ages,” in Visualizing Medieval Medicine and Natural History, 1200-1550, ed. Jean A. Givens et al. (Aldershot and Burlington: Ashgate, 2006), 1-24; Francesca Guerra, “Simplifying Access: Metadata for Medieval Disability Studies,” PNLA Quarterly 74: 2 (2010), 10-26, https://pnla.org/wp- content/uploads/2018/03/volume-74-2.pdf (last access September 25, 2019).

188 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence

Fig. 12.2. St Valentine heals an epileptic man Scenes from the legend of St Valentine from an altar originally placed in Nördlingen (detail), Bartholomäus Zeitblom (1455/1460– 1518/1522), panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Augsburg, Staatsgalerie im Schaezler-Palais, Altdeutsche Meister, Inv. no. 5370; © Augsburg Staatsgalerie, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Visual Intercessions and Restoring Mental Order

Usually, visual representation of mental disorder characterises the depicted persons as either negative or positive, to be helped or healed, mostly by the intercession of saints. Saints, for instance, can be traced in votive images or depictions of miracles that had happened at pilgrimages, mainly from the end of the fifteenth century onwards. Two image cycles of this type from Austria are the so-called Large (around 1520) and Small (1512) Mariazell Miracle altars, which originate from the important

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Styrian place of pilgrimage of the same name, Mariazell.7 One example of mental disorder in these panels, and its healing through the intercession of the Virgin, refers to the falling sickness, that is, epilepsy.8 There are a large number of existing late medieval visual representations of persons suffering from epilepsy and its cure. They range from biblical scenes to depictions of Saint Valentine to votive images and miracle series. The example from the Large Mariazell Miracle altar shows a woman from a rather wealthy urban or aristocratic family, who had fallen but was healed through the intercession of the Virgin, who had been appealed to by the woman’s husband (Fig. 12.1).9 The fifth-century missionary bishop Saint Valentine of Raetia became the most important patron of and intercessor for epileptics, especially in the German-speaking areas. His attribute is an epileptic, often a child, lying at his feet. This can mainly be explained by the phonetic similarity in the German language of the verb “to fall” (“fallen”) and the saint’s name Valentine (“Valentin”). Thus, the number of depictions of epileptics in connection with Saint Valentine in late medieval visual

7 The Large and Small Mariazell Miracle altars (“Großer Mariazeller Wunderaltar”; “Kleiner Mariazeller Wunderaltar”) are today both kept in the Styrian Universalmuseum Joanneum in Graz (Austria). The small altar consists of six panels, the large one of 47 panels showing miracles that happened through the intercession of the Virgin. See, e.g., “...da half Maria aus aller Not.” Der Große Mariazeller Wunderaltar aus der Zeit um 1520, ed. Walter Brunner (Graz: Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv, 2002); Gerhard Jaritz, “Der Große Mariazeller Wunderaltar, oder: Zeichen der Allmacht der Gottesmutter,” in Mariazell und Ungarn. 650 Jahre religiöse Gemeinsamkeit, ed. Walter Brunner et al. (Graz and Esztergom: Steiermärkische Landesarchiv, 2003), 61-8; Elfriede Grabner, “Kultstätte und Heilbrauch,” in Ungarn in Mariazell – Mariazell in Ungarn. Geschichte und Erinnerung, ed. Péter Farbaky and Szabolcs Serfőző (Budapest: Historisches Museum der Stadt Budapest, 2004), 61-73. 8 As a standard work, see still Owsei Temkin, The Falling Sickness. A History of Epilepsy from the Greeks to the Beginning of Modern Neurology, 2nd ed. (Baltimore and London: The John Hopkins University Press, 1994), for the Middle Ages and the Renaissance 85-136 and 137-204. 9 The caption says: “Ein fraw ward lange czeit ser beschwerdt mit dem hinffallenden siechtum, alß pald si ir man gen Cell verhies mit einem opfer ward sie an alle ercznei gesuntt.” (“A woman was troubled by the falling sickness for a long time. As soon as her husband promised her to Mariazell with an offering she was restored to health without any medicine.”)

190 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence evidence, mostly from south German and Austrian areas is quite considerable. Generally, the images show different visual representations of the fallen epileptics. One can distinguish, for instance, between the following types:  the fallen woman from the Large Mariazell Miracle altar lying on her stomach (Fig. 12.1);  a young man lying passively on his back but with open mouth (Fig. 12.2), being healed by Saint Valentine in a Bavarian panel painting from around 1500;10  another young man or child who fell as if in a fit, being the attribute of Saint Valentine in a panel painting from Upper Hungary (Fig. 12.3);11  the epileptic boy (lunaticus) who regularly fell into fire and water and was carried to Jesus and healed by the latter through exorcism – a visual representation of the most famous epilepsy healing reference in the Bible, described in Mark 9:17-27, Matthew 17:14- 18, and Luke 9:37-43 (Fig. 12.4).12

The context of the falling sickness and its cure by exorcism is a phenomenon that appears a number of times in texts and images.13 Generally, any mental illness and disorder could be seen and depicted as connected with demonic possession,14 mainly in scenes from the Bible,

10 See Altdeutsche Gemälde der Staatsgalerie Augsburg, ed. Gisela Goldberg et al. (Munich: Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, 1978), 123-7. 11 See Libuše Cidlinská, Gotické krídlové oltáre na Slovensku (Gothic winged altarpieces in Slovakia) (Bratislava: Tatran, 1989), 68. 12 For instance, in an illuminated manuscript probably from Moravia, Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 485: Historia Novi Testamenti, fol. 30r. Concerning “lunatic” see Michele A. Riva, et al., “The Disease of the Moon: The Linguistic and Pathological Evolution of the English Term ‘Lunatic’,” Journal of the History of the Neurosciences 20 (2011), 65-73. 13 See Brian P. Levack, The Devil Within. Possession and Exorcism in the Christian West (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2013), especially 26-7, 115-7, and passim. 14 See, in particular, the contribution by Sari Katajala-Peltomaa in Mental (Dis)order in Later Medieval Europe; Simon Kemp and Kevin Williams, “Demonic Possession and Mental Disorder in Medieval and Early Modern Europe,” Psychological Medicine 17 (1987), 21-9; Levack, The Devil Within, 113-38.

191 Gerhard Jaritz saints’ legends and in miracle images. These representations again offer patterns of the visualisation of mental disorder, that is, possessed people and their outer appearance.

Fig. 12.3. An epileptic (young) man as an attribute of St Valentine St Valentine and St Stephen of Hungary (detail), panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, early sixteenth century (Sabinov, Slovakia, St John the Baptist parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.4. Jesus heals the epileptic boy by driving the devil out of him From the Historia Novi Testamenti (miniature: Jesus casting out a demon, fol. 30r), Moravian master (?), coloured ink painting on pergamen, around 1430/1440 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 485, fol. 30r; © ÖNB, photo: Vivarium: no. 13814 – cdm.csbsju.edu)

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Fig. 12.5. Exorcism by St Bernard Scene from the altar on the life of St Bernard of Clairvaux – Bernard cures a possession (detail), Jörg Breu the Elder (1475/1480–1537), Danube school, second side chapel left, panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Zwettl, Lower Austria, Stiftskirche; © Stift Zwettl, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.6. Exorcism of the king’s daughter by St Leonard St Leonard exercises exorcism scene from the St Leonhard altar (detail), master of St Leonhard bei Tamsweg, panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1452–1461 (Tamsweg, Salzburg, St Leonhard pilgrimage church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

193 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 12.7. Intercession of the Virgin of Mariazell to drive 6666 devils out of a woman having killed her parents and child Kleiner Mariazeller Wunderaltar (detail), Danube School, panel painting, tempera on wood, 1512 (Graz, Universalmuseum Joanneum – Alte Galerie, Schloss Eggenberg, Inv. no. 386–389; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.8. St Leonard drives the devil out of a mentally disturbed man Exorcism by St Leonard, panel painting of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1450 (Originally: Bad Aussee, Styria, St Leonhard daughter church on the Calvary mount, presently: Graz, Diözesanmuseum, Inv. no. 6830.0141.01; © DM Graz, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

194 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence

Gendered Symptoms in Visual Material

It has to be emphasized that in miracle reports and saints’ legends, and therefore also in images, the number of possessed women is invariably higher than the number of males.15 Some examples are: an exorcism by Saint Bernard (Fig. 12.5),16 one by Saint Leonard (Fig. 12.6),17 and one instance from the Small Mariazell Miracle altar (Fig. 12.7).18 One of the rarer examples concerning a male person again involves Saint Leonard (Fig. 12.8).19 The depicted possessed man shows two outwardly visible signs that often occur in male people suffering from mental disturbance: nakedness and a bald head. This is a pattern that also occurs regularly in

15 Cf. Levack, The Devil Within, 171-82. Concerning gender and demonic possession see also Nancy Caciola, Discerning Spirits: Divine and Demonic Possession in the Middle Ages (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006). With regard to gender and disability in medieval literature, see Tory Vandeventer Pearman, Women and Disability in Medieval Literature (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010). 16 Exorcism by St Bernard, on a panel by Jörg Breu the Older, around 1500. Zwettl (Austria), abbey church. See Cäsar Menz, Das Frühwerk Jörg Breus des Älteren (Augsburg: Kommissionsverlag Bücher Seitz, 1982), 20. See also the legend in the Legenda Aurea: “[…] a man brought his wife, who was possessed of a devil, to him [St Bernard]. The devil, speaking through the poor woman’s mouth, began to insult the man of God, saying: ‘This eater of leeks and devourer of cabbages won’t get me out of my little old women!’ […] Bernard prayed, and the demon went out of the woman […].” Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, trans. William Granger Ryan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2012), 491. 17 Exorcism by St Leonard, on a panel of by Master of Sankt Leonhard bei Tamsweg, after 1450. Tamsweg (Austria). St Leonard is mainly known because of his release of prisoners from captivity. However, his miraculous exorcisms of people possessed by demons are also mentioned, in his vitae as well as in reports about post mortem-miracles ascribed to him. See François Arbellot, The Life of Saint Leonard surnamed the Solitary of Limousin, France from the Life of the Saint, trans. Comtesse Marie de Borchgrave d’Altena (London: R.&T. Washbourne Ltd, 1910) [French original: Paris, 1863], 21; Steven Douglas Sargent, Religion and Society in Late Medieval Bavaria: The Cult of Saint Leonard (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 1982, unpublished Ph.D. Diss.), 300- 2. 18 Exorcism of a woman who had killed her parents and child on the Small Mariazell Miracle altar, 1512. See Grabner, “Kultstätte und Heilbrauch,” 64-6. 19 Exorcism by St Leonard on a panel around 1450 in Bad Aussee (Austria).

195 Gerhard Jaritz late medieval visual representations of negatively evaluated people or members of the lowest groups of society, perhaps on the model of Luke:

And they arrived at the country of the Gad’a-renes which is over against Gal’i-lee. And when he [Jesus] went forth to land, there met him out of the city a certain man which had devils long time and ware no clothes, neither abode in any house, but in the tombs […].” (Luke 8:26-27, KJV)

One of the most popular figures used for the visual representation of mental disorder is the natural male fool,20 particularly the insipiens of Vulgate Psalm 52:

Dixit insipiens in corde suo non est Deus, corrupti sunt et abominabiles facti sunt in iniquitatibus non est faciat bonum […]. (Ps. 52:1-2) The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God. Corrupt are they, and have done abominable iniquity: there is none that doeth good […]. (Ps. 53:1, KJV)

While there are clearly some differences concerning the visual representations of those fools, certain important patterns can also be

20 For the distinction between natural and artificial fools and the problems that arose from this distinction, see especially Irina Metzler, Disability in Medieval Europe: Thinking about Physical Impairment during the High Middle Ages, c. 1100-1400 (London and New York: Routledge, 2006), 8-9; Irina Metzler, A Social History of Disability in the Middle Ages. Cultural Considerations of Physical Impairment (New York and London: Routledge, 2013), 86-91. See also Ruth von Bernuth, “«Wer im gůtz thett dem rödet er vbel». Natürliche Narren im Gebetbuch des Matthäus Schwarz,” in Homo debilis. Behinderte – Kranke – Versehrte in der Gesellschaft des Mittelalters, ed. Mechthild Dreyer, Cordula Nolte, and Jörg Rogge (Korb: Didymos-Verlag, 2009), 411-30; Ruth von Bernuth, Wunder, Spott und Prophetie: Natürliche Narrheit in den “Historien von Claus Narren”: 133 (Fra1/4he Neuzeit) (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2009); Alexandra Pfau, “Protecting or Restraining? Madness as a Disability in Late Medieval France,” in Disability in the Middle Ages: Reconsiderations and Reverberations, ed. Joshua R. Eyler (Farnham and Burlington: Ashgate, 2010), 93-104.

196 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence recognised,21 in particular the nakedness of parts of the body and the bald or shaved head (Fig. 12.9 and Fig. 12.10).22

Fig. 12.9. Initial of Psalm 52: a partly naked insipiens Psalterium cum calendario, canticis, etc. (initial letter “O” of Psalm 52, fol. 85v), Central European master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1270 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1898, fol. 85v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

21 See also Angelika Gross, “Das Bild des Narren: Von Psalm 52 zu Sebastian Brant,” in Bild und Abbild vom Menschen im Mittelalter, ed. Elisabeth Vavra (Klagenfurt: Wieser Verlag, 1999), 273-91. 22 The insipiens in the initial of Psalm 52 from around 1270. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1898 (Psalter, Psalm 52, fol. 85v); see Andreas Fingernagel and Martin Roland, Mitteleuropäische Schulen I (ca. 1250-1350), Textband (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997), 57-64. King David and the insipiens in the initial of Psalm 52 from the beginning of the fifteenth century. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2783 (Psalter, Psalm 52, fol. 93r); see Andreas Fingernagel and Katherina Hranitzky, Mitteleuropäische Schulen II (ca. 1350-1410), Textband (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2002), 184-92, in particular 189.

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Fig. 12.10. Initial of Psalm 52: King David with another partly naked insipiens pointing at his mouth Psalterium germanicum cum glossa Nicolai de Lyra (initial letter “D” of Psalm 52, fol. 93r), originally in the collection of the Viennese Austin Canons monastery of Sts Rochus and Sebastian, Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, early 15th century (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2783, fol. 93r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.11. Open mouth and tongue as signs of mental disorder Kuttenberger Cantionale, Graduale (initial letter “B”, fol. 101v), Bohemian master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1509–1516 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Mus. Hs. 15501, fol. 101v; © ÖNB, photo: www.digital.onb.ac.at)

198 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence

Fig. 12.12. Open mouth, teeth and laughter as signs of mental disorder Biblia latina: Pars secunda Iob usque Novum Testamentum inclusive (initial letter “P” of Paulus, fol. 268v), originally in the possession of Custos Dietrich of the St Hippolytus Austin Canons monastery in St Pölten, Austrian master (?), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1341 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1203, fol. 268v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.13. Initial of Psalm 52: partly defaced insipiens Psalterium Benedictinum feriatum et Hymnarum from the Benedictine monastery of St Lambrecht (initial letter “D” of Psalm 52, fol. 63v), Austrian master (?), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, second half of the fourteenth century (Graz, Universitätsbibliothek, Ms. 387, fol. 63v; © Graz UB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

199 Gerhard Jaritz

Facial Expressions as Signs of Disorder

Fools and other negative figures of mental disorder often show some particular facial expression that makes them recognisable to everyone. The signs that occur most explicitly and most often in images and texts are the open mouth, sometimes showing tongue and teeth, and laughter. Descriptions of the mouths of fools and other people with deviant behaviour appear in a number of cases in the Bible and this pattern was also adopted in the late medieval visual representations.23 Some of these biblical examples are:

Proverbs 10:14: “Wise men lay up knowledge; but the mouth of the foolish is near destruction.” Proverbs 14:3: “In the mouth of the foolish is a rod of pride; but the lips of the wise shall preserve them.” Proverbs 18:6: “A fool’s lips enter into contention, and his mouth calleth for strokes.” Proverbs 18:7: “A fool’s mouth is his destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul.” Proverbs 29:11: “A fool uttereth all his mind: but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards.” Psalm 64:2-3: “Hide me from the secret counsel of the wicked; from the insurrection of the workers of iniquity who wet their tongue like a sword...” (see Fig. 12.11).24 Ecclesiastes 5:3: “A fool’s voice is known by multitude of words.”

The disturbance could be increased when the open mouth was connected with laughter. Here, one may again compare, for instance,

Ecclesiastes 2:2: “I said of laughter. It is mad; and of mirth: What doeth it?,” Ecclesiastes 7:6: “For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool: this also is vanity.”

23 In Fig. 12.10 the fool just points with his index finger at his mouth to show its danger. 24 A cantional from 1490. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Mus. Cod. 15501, fol. 101v.

200 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence

Such a “fool” can be found in an initial of the letter of Saint Paul to the Ephesians (Fig. 12.12).25 Again, a context of image and text was created, as the letter is dealing with foolish sinners:26

And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins (2:1) […]. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers (4:29) […]. Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient: but rather giving of thanks (5:4) […]. See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise (5:15) […]. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is (5:17).

The visual representations of such negatively evaluated fools could sometimes emotionalise their beholders in such a way that they tried to deface the image by rubbing or scratching off the figure, as can be seen in another example of the insipiens of the Vulgate, Psalm 52 (Fig. 12.13).27 The above examples of fools establish a familiar pattern of visual and textual representation of (mentally) disabled persons, not only in the Middle Ages but also up to the present day, one of created ugliness, sometimes merging into comic ugliness.28 Besides nakedness, bald-

25 Open mouth and foolish laughter of the sinner. Part of the initial P of Paulus from 1341. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1203: Bible, fol. 268v: “Incipit epistola ad Ephesios. Paulus Apostolus Jesu Christi per voluntatem Dei omnibus sanctis qui sunt Ephesi, et fidelibus in Christo Jesu […].” See Fingernagel and Roland, Mitteleuropäische Schulen I, Textband, 310-4. 26 Concerning the stereotype of the medieval connection of mental disorder and sin, see Jerome Kroll and Bernard Bachrach, “Sin and Mental Illness in the Middle Ages,” Psychological Medicine 14 (1984), 507-14. 27 Defaced insipiens in an initial of Psalm 52 from the second half of the fourteenth century. Graz, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. 387: Psalter, fol. 63v. 28 See, e.g., Claudia Gottwald, “Behinderung in der Karikatur. Zum Verhältnis von Hässlichkeit, Komik und Behinderung in der Geschichte der Karikatur,” in Andere Bilder. Zur Produktion von Behinderung in der visuellen Kultur, ed. Beate Ochsner and Anna Grebe (Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2013), 117-32; Gunnar Schmidt, “Menschentrümmer oder eine neue Anthropologie? Zur Fotografie der hässlichen Krankheiten im 19. Jahrhundert,” in ibidem, 195-209; Claudia Gottwald, “Ist Behinderung komisch? Lachen über verkörperte Differenz im

201 Gerhard Jaritz headedness, gaping mouth, and the showing of tongue and teeth, other distorted facial expressions like squinting (see Fig. 12.6) may be represented. Often these distorted facial expressions were meant to represent negative attributes and sinfulness, but they might also activate the beholders’ pity. Some material attributes, based on the textual background, could also be used to indicate the mental disorder of the portrayed persons, such as the bread sometimes held by the fool in the illustrations of Psalm 52.29

Conclusions

With the help of late medieval Central European religious image material, visual constructions that used familiar methods and signs of people with mental disorder were offered to beholders who were not specialists in any medical respect. On the one hand, they were directed at a public for whom easy comprehensibility was important, and on the other hand at clerics, that is, specialists in theological and religious aspects of life, for whom the biblical contexts were relevant. Certain patterns and stereotypes occurred in representations of mental disorder, so that it could be recognised and identified through a depicted bodily disorder, usually distorted physiognomy, in particular facial expression, and nakedness. The portrayal as possessed by the devil also played an important role. Visual representations of mental disorders in female and male persons had a different emphasis. While mentally disturbed men were mainly represented as fools and insipientes, female mental disorder often involved possession by the devil. The visual discourse about the falling sickness dealt with both women and men. historischen Wandel,” in Disability History. Konstruktionen von Behinderung in der Geschichte. Eine Einführung, ed. Elsbeth Bosl, Anne Klein, and Anne Waldschmidt (Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2010), 231-51. Concerning the complexity of ugliness in the context of disability in the Middle Ages, see Metzler, Disability in Medieval Europe, 48-55. On constructions of bodily ugliness in early modern texts and images generally, see Naomi Baker, Plain Ugly: The Unattractive Body in Early Modern Culture (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2010). 29 Referring to Vulgate, Psalm 52:5: “Nonne scient omnes qui operantur iniquitatem, qui devorant plebem meam ut cibum panis?”, that is “Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge? Who eat up my people as they eat bread: they have not called upon God.” (Ps. 53:4, KJV). See the fool of Fig. 12.13 holding bread in his right hand.

202 Signs of Mental Disorder in Late Medieval Visual Evidence

A number of represented aspects of mental and bodily disorders and the respective restoration to health can be seen as signs and symbols meant to warn, motivate, or educate those who saw the images. Depicted persons suffering from mental disorder were, on the one hand, to be recognised as negative creatures, embodiments of ignorance, misdoings, and sin. On the other hand, the portrayal of figures suffering from mental illness could be connected with hope and also recognised as an opportunity to intervene, help, and heal: for Christ and the saints by miracles, for relatives, friends and the general public by prayer and invocation of God and the saints. Saintly intercession, miracles, and exorcisms to bring mentally disturbed people back to a state of mental and bodily order played a very important role in the depictions. The contextualised creation, construction, and perception of mentally disordered people in late medieval visual culture, and the “reality effects” of their portrayal enabled the communication of messages that went far beyond aspects of mental disturbance and illness.

203

Animals and Other Creatures

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Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots: Using “Familiar” and “Unfamiliar” Fauna in Late Medieval Visual Representation*

Animals played important roles in a variety of fields and aspects of medieval culture. One finds them as bones in archaeological material representing food refuse and remains from other economic, social and religious activities. They appear in textual as well as visual evidence, as representations of ‘real’ or fictitious creatures, as participants in religious or secular narratives, as symbolic or metaphoric objects: to document, to warn, to argue, to signal, to teach, to urge, or to motivate. They could be animals, very familiar in the surroundings from the immediate environment and also creatures whose existence was only known from some ancient or religious authorities, from theological or scientific discourse. Parts of different animals could also be mixed to achieve a variety of effects. This way, animals represented, on the one hand, very familiar objects for their audience and recipients. They turned up in common and well- known situations. On the other hand, they became beings whose existence, appearance and function were mostly unknown, or only noted from some far-off messages, from mentions in the bible, from the writings of ancient savants, or from awesome travel accounts. Such contrasts between matters of familiarity and strangeness seem to have determined the image of animals in a multiplicity of evidence.1 And just

* Originally published as “Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots: Using ‘Familiar’ and ‘Unfamiliar’ Fauna in Late Medieval Visual Representation” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 16 (2005), 107-22. 1 For such an approach towards animals, see also Jacques Voisenet, Bêtes et Hommes dans le monde médiéval. Le bestiaire des clercs du Ve au XIIe siècle (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), particularly chapter I: “Monstres et animaux domestiques, la proximité avec l’homme” (15-52).

Gerhard Jaritz this familiarity and, at the same time, extraneousness must have influenced all kinds of perceptions.2 They created and affected the individual animals’ as well as, generally, the fauna’s function in arguments and discourses. It is just such contexts that I would like to concentrate my analysis on visual source material from the Late Middle Ages, mainly originating from Central European territories.3 Familiar representation of fauna was connected with typical late medieval ‘realistic’ depictions which were used to create visual closeness between beholder and picture, a closeness that was supposed to lead to the important proximity of the whole message of the image to its recipient.4 Such a situation may certainly have been particularly relevant in rural space or for the representation of rural space.

2 Regarding the perception of animals in the Middle Ages see, in particular, Esther Cohen, “Animals in Medieval Perceptions: the Image of the Ubiquitous Other,” in Animals and Human Society: Changing Perspectives, ed. Aubrey Manning and James Serpell (London and New York: Routledge, 1994), 59-80. 3 Concerning the role of iconography for the studies of medieval fauna, see Aleks Pluskowski, “Hares with Crossbows and Rabbit Bones: Integrating Physical and Conceptual Studies of Medieval Fauna,” in Medieval Animals, ed. Aleks Pluskowski, Archaeological Review from Cambridge 18 (Cambridge: Department of Archaeology, 2002), 156-7. For the analysis of visual sources from medieval France, see Marcel Durliat, “Le monde animal et ses représentations iconographiques du XlIe au XVe siècle,” in Le monde animal et ses représentations au Moyen Âge (Xle-XVe siècles), Actes du XVéme Congrés de la Société des Historiens Médiévistes de l’Enseignement Supérieur Public (Toulouse: Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail), 73-92. Regarding an individual object of art, see William Brunsdon Yapp, “Animals in Medieval Art: the Bayeux Tapestry as an Example,” Journal of Medieval History 13 (1987), 15-73. 4 On closeness and distance in late medieval visual culture, see Gerhard Jaritz, “Nähe und Distanz als Gebrauchsfunktion spätmittelalterlicher religiöser Bilder,” in Frömmigkeit im Mittelalter. Politisch-soziale Kontexte, visuelle Praxis, körperliche Ausdrucksformen, ed. Klaus Schreiner (Munich: Fink, 2002), 331-46. Concerning the reality effect of late medieval art, see Keith Moxey, “Reading the Reality Effect,” in Pictura quasi Fictura. Die Rolle des Bildes in der Erforschung von Alltag und Sachkultur des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschafien, 1996), 15- 22.

208 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots

Fig. 13.1. St Bernard disperses salt for the animals Scene from the altar on the life of St Bernard of Clairvaux – Bernard as the patron of animals (detail), Jörg Breu the Elder (1475/1480–1537), Danube school, second side chapel left, panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Zwettl, Lower Austria, Stiftskirche; © Stift Zwettl, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

There is, for instance, the miracle from the legend of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux’s life concerning his strewing of consecrated salt for the domestic animals that had been struck by an epidemic (Fig. 13.1).5 There are also the various and well-known representations of the Labors of the Months:6 as, for instance, the month of September from the wall paintings in the episcopal residence of the Upper Italian town of Trento, showing the right people carrying out the right work, in the right way at the right time and, con cerning the topic of this contribution, also with the help of the right, that is, familiar animals (Fig. 13.2).7 One also should think of the examples of moralistic-didactic depictions of the Virtues and Vices: in this case from Brixen in South Tyrol which shows the active bishop willing to work, that is, plowing the field with his oxen, and the idle and inactive bishop refusing to do it (Fig. 13.3).8

5 Saint Bernard’s altar in the Cistercian house of Zwettl (Lower Austria) by Jörg Breu the Older. See Cäsar Menz, Das Frühwerk Jörg Breus des Älteren (Augsburg: Kommissionsverlag Bücher Seitz, 1982), 24-5. 6 For the Labors of the Months see, generally, Bridget Ann Henisch, The Medieval Calendar Year (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1999). 7 See Francesca de Gramatica, “Il ciclo di Mesi di Torre Aquila,” in Il Gotico nelle Alpi 1350-1450, ed. Enrico Castelnuovo and Francesca de Gramatica (Trento: Castello del Buonconsiglio, Monumenti e Collezioni Provinciali, 2002), 343-65. 8 See Karl Wolfsgruber, Dom und Kreuzgang von Brixen. Geschichte und Kunst (Bozen:

209 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 13.2. Plowing the fields with the help of oxen and horses Castello di Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquila, Cycle of the months, September (detail), Lombardian or Bohemian master, wall-painting, after 1400 (Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Representations of the Virtues and the Vices are often connected with animals and with the symbolic values and connotations ascribed to the beasts:9 like the familiar hog, already in the bible a symbol of impurity

Athesia, 1988), 39-40. 9 See Mireille Vincent-Cassy, “Les animaux et les péchés capitaux: de la symbolique à l’emblématique,” in Le Monde Animal et ses représentations au Moyen Age (XIe-XVe siècles), Actes du XVéme Congrés de la Société des Historiens Médiévistes de l’Enseignement Supérieur Public (Toulouse: Université de Toulouse-Le Mirail), 121-32; Ron Baxter, “Learning from Nature: Lessons in Virtue and Vice in the Physiologus and Bestiaries,” in Virtue & Vice: the Personifications in the Index of Christian Art, ed. Colum Hourihane (Princeton: Princeton University, 2000), 29-41; Carmen Brown, “Bestiary Lessons on Pride and Lust,” in The Mark of the Beast, ed. Debra Hassig (New York and London: Routledge, 2000), 53-70.

210 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots that served well as a mount for an unchaste, vicious couple from Levoča in today’s Slovakia (Fig. 13.4).10

Fig. 13.3. The active (virtuous) bishop is plowing the soil with oxen The active and the lazy bishops (detail), on the wall of the cloister walk, tenth arcade, wall painting, 1420/1430 (Brixen/Bressanone, South Tyrol, Santa Maria Assunta cathedral and cloister; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

10 See Dušan Buran, Studien zur Wandmalerei um 1400 in der Slowakei. Die Pfarrkirche St. Jakob in Leutschau und die Pfarrkirche St. Franziskus Seraphicus in Poniky (Weimar: Verlag und Datenbank für Geisteswissenschaften, 2002), 50-2. Concerning the hog in medieval art, see, e.g., Wilfried Schouwink, Der wilde Eber in Gottes Weinberg. Zur Darstellung des Schweins in Literatur und Kunst des Mittelalters (Sigmaringen: Jan Thorbecke, 1985).

211 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 13.4. The unchaste couple is riding on the impure hog Capital Sins: unchastity (detail), on the northern wall of the church, wall painting, end-fourteenth century (Levoča, Slovakia, St James parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Bestiaries and other illustrated encyclopaedic works that dealt with fauna were not meant for such a public space as the aforementioned wall paintings.11 In the encyclopaedias an attempt was made to mention all known or existing animals. Therefore, they describe, on the one hand, very familiar creatures and offer a visual representation of them. On the other hand, they also concentrate on unfamiliar and perhaps strange beings. An example is the Hortus Sanitatis. The description and depiction of the louse in this Latin version published at Strassburg in 1499 (Fig. 13.5),12 for example, belongs to the first group of familiar animals and their representations. Some of these vermin appear in and beside the plate which is positioned between the woman and the man. The main

11 Concerning the reception of bestiaries see in particular, Ron Baxter, Bestiaries and Their Users in the Middle Ages (Phoenix Mill: Sutton, 1998). 12 The louse: Hortus Sanitatis (Strassburg: Johannes Prüm the Older, c. 1499), Tractatus de Animalibus, capitulum cxix: pediculus.

212 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots content of the image again depicts a very familiar situation, that is, delousing the hair of one’s partner with the help of a licebrush.

Fig. 13.5. The louse Hortus/Ortus Sanitatis (The Garden of Health), Tractatus de animalibus (detail, capitulum cxix: pediculus), first printed by Jacob Meydenbach in Mainz (1491) and later also by Johannes Prüm the Elder in Strassbourg (around 1499), coloured woodcuts on paper, 1490s (Cambridge, University Library, Inc. 3.A.1.8[37]; © CUL, photo: CUDL – cudl.cam.ac.uk)

The Hortus Sanitatis, however, also contains a large number of unfamiliar animals and their visual representations which would certainly not have been found in the regions where the producers and recipients of the encyclopaedias lived. Such examples are, for instance, the centaur (onocenthaurus) and the giraffe (orasius) (Fig. 13.6).13

13 Hortus Sanitatis (Strassburg: Johannes Prüm the Older, c. 1499), Tractatus de Animalibus, capitulum cvii: “Ex libro de naturis rerum. Onocenthaurus est animal monstruosum et natura biforme capite scilicet azinino et corpore velut humano, faciem habet satis horridam manusque formatas abiles ad omnem actum dum vocem promit quasi loqui incipit. […] Hoc monstrum […] inter ceteras bestias ab initio non fuisse tale creatum sed aliquando et alicubi casualiter ex adulterine commixtione generari. Orasius. Isidorus: Orasius in anteriori parte altum eminens valde, ita ut extenso capite xx cubitorum altitudinem possit attingere. In posteriori vero parte demissum est, instar cervi. Collum habet extensum, caput equinum, licet minus pedes autem et caudam ut cervus, pellem

213 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 13.6. The centaur (onocenthaurus) and the giraffe (orasius) Hortus Sanitatis (The Garden of Health), Tractatus de animalibus (detail, capitulum cvii: ex libro de naturis rerum, onocenthaurus est animal monstruosum), first printed by Jacob Meydenbach in Mainz (1491) and later also by Johannes Prüm the Elder in Strassbourg (around 1499), coloured woodcuts on paper, 1490s (Cambridge, University Library, Inc. 3.A.1.8[37]; © CUL, photo: CUDL – cudl.cam.ac.uk)

There are clear connections and contexts between some of the unfamiliar contents of the scientific encyclopaedias and the public space of religious paintings. This is particularly true for the unicorn, or for fish and other creatures living in waters or in the sea. There is, for example, the mermaid (syrena) depicted and described in detail in a large number

vero sic omni colorum genere diuersimode variatam, ut homo frustra temptet artificio naturalem eius pulchritudinem imitari […] Albertus […] appellat eum Orafflus.” (“Out of the Book of the Nature of Things: The onocenthaurus is a wondrous animal of ambiguous nature, with the head of an ass and a humanlike body; it has a rather terrifying face and hands able to do anything, while it issues sounds as if starting to speak. This wondrous being […] was not created in the beginning like the other animals but born sometime and somehow out of an adulterous commingling. Orasius: Isidor: The orasius appears at its front part very high so that, with stretched head, it can reach a height of 20 cubits. But in its back part, it becomes lower, like a stag. It has a long neck, a horselike head, but smaller feet and a tail like a stag; it has a coat varying in color in different ways so that man might try in vain to imitate its natural beauty artificially. […] Albertus (Magnus) […] calls it Orafflus.”). For the centaur, see Elizabeth Atwood Lawrence, “The Centaur: Its History and Meaning in Human Culture,” Journal of Popular Culture 27:4 (1994), 57-68; Ludo Jongen, “Do Centaurs Have Souls? Centaurs as Seen by the Middle Dutch Poet Jacob van Maerlant,” in Animals and the Symbolic in Medieval Art and Literature, ed. L.A.J.R. Houwen (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1997), 139-54.

214 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots of bestiaries and encyclopaedic treatises.14 Such beasts also could be found in public space and would have been visible and ‘familiar’ to everybody, for instance on wall paintings on both the outside and inside wall surfaces of churches that depict Saint Christopher carrying Jesus over the river (Fig. 13.7).15 A similar situation existed for representations of the dolphin, frater hominis dicitur, which was said to be very close to humans in its character.16 An animal like the dolphin which would have been unfamiliar in Central Europe certainly may have been visually represented differently from its actual appearance. In the mid-fourteenth-century monastic manuscript of the so-called Concordantiae caritatis, one is confronted with a rather strange dolphin whose love for music is emphasized, as a typological example of the “Annunciation to the Shepherds” (Fig. 13.8).17 Sometimes, also the dolphin could find its way into public space: for instance in a Czech wall painting that again offers a glimpse into the river through which Saint Christopher carried the Christ Child and shows rather different dolphins from the one depicted in the Concordantiae caritatis (Fig. 13.9).18

14 See, e.g., again the Hortus Sanitatis (Strassburg: Johannes Prüm the Older, c. 1499), Tractatus de Piscibus, capitulum Ixxxiii: syrena. 15 Mermaid on the wall painting from 1511 in the church of the Tyrolean Pens. 16 Hortus Sanitatis (Strassburg: Johannes Prüm the Older, c. 1499), Tractatus de Piscibus, capitulum xxvii: delphin. The illustration is very close to the one of the syrena; see note 14. “Delphinus frater hominis dicitur quia moribus humanis quodammodo assimilatur […]” (“The dolphin is called the brother of man as it has assimilated with human mores”); with references to Aristotle, Plinius and the Physiologus. 17 The dolphin enjoys the music of lutes and flutes, and follows the musician; exemplum to the Annunciation of the Shepherds, manuscript illumination, c. 1350. Concordantiae caritatis, Cistercian house of Lilienfeld (Lower Austria), Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 12v: “Simphonidens vocem delphin sequiturque velocem (The dolphin quickly follows the sound of chords)”. See Hedwig Munscheck, Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Untersuchungen zu Inhalt, Quellen und Verbreitung, mit einer Paraphrasierung von Temporale, Sanktorale und Commune (Frankfurt/Main et al.: Peter Lang, 2000), 216. 18 The dolphins on the end-fifteenth-century wall paintingin the church of Boritov (Czech Republic).

215 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 13.7. The mermaid in the river crossed by St Christopher St Christopher is carrying the Christchild (detail), on the outer church wall, wall painting, 1511 (Pens/Pennes, South Tyrol, Sts Peter and Paul parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 13.8. The dolphin enjoys the music of lutes and flutes and follows the musician Exemplum to the Annunciation of the Shepherds in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 12v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308– before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 12v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 12v)

216 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots

Fig. 13.9. Dolphins in the river crossed by St Christopher St Christopher is carrying the Christchild (detail), wall painting, second quarter of the fifteenth century (Bořitov, Moravia, Czech Republic, St George church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Such a variety of distinct visual representations is certainly generally significant for the depiction of unfamiliar animals: for example, the fish or whale that swallowed Jonah whole and spit him out after three days. The only comparable matter to be found in all depictions of it are what treatises in encyclopaedias often mention at the beginning of the beast’s description: […] est immense magnitudinis bestia […] (It is an animal of enormous size).19 In a similar way, for instance, very different elephants may be encountered, occasionally horse-like ones, only recognizable because of their trunks.20 Such a phenomenon of visual diversity is true for ‘scientific’ representations in encyclopaedias or bestiaries as well as for images in the public space of wall paintings. Particularly unfamiliarity led to differences in the depictions, to something that today would be

19 See, e.g., Hortus Sanitatis (Strassburg: Johannes Prüm the Older, c. 1499), Tractatus de Piscibus, capitulum xiiii: balena. 20 See, e.g., the elephant, Death of Eleazar, wall painting, master Leonhard of Brixen, around 1470. Brixen/Bressanone (South Tyrol), cathedral cloister, third arcade (Wolfsgruber, Dom und Kreuzgang von Brixen, 31). The elephant, Death of Eleazar, wall painting, the workshop of Leonhard of Brixen, around 1480. Klerant/Cleran (South Tyrol), filial church of St Nicholas.

217 Gerhard Jaritz called a wrong image: a term of which I think that it is generally out of place when talking about medieval ways of the portrayal of animals that included specific meanings.

Fig. 13.10. The creation of birds and water animals: a collection of familiar and unfamiliar species The creation of animals living on land and in water (detail), on the wall of the nave, right side arcade, John of Kastav/Johannes de Castua (fifteenth century), Istrian master, wall painting, 1490 (Hrastovlje, Slovenia, Holy Trinity filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Unfamiliar and strange animals were also used together with familiar fauna – as indispensable for depicting the totality of living creatures: for instance, the entirety of animals created by God at the beginning of the world (in this case, of birds and water animals; Fig. 13.10)21 or the ones

21 Creation of the animals (represented by birds and water animals) in the church

218 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots having fled into Noah’s arch. There, familiar and unfamiliar animals had to be shown together to visualize the meant collectivity and totality. Familiarity and unfamiliarity of represented animals and their functions and meanings also have to be seen in context within the broad field of animal symbolism.22 In a number of cases and concerning specific, often unfamiliar animals, one may be confronted with a variety of different messages that they contained and proclaimed directly or indirectly. The application of contrast patterns occurs regularly.23 Important examples in this context are, for instance, monkeys that turn up in a number of inter-related contexts. Monkeys are generally rather unfamiliar in medieval Central Europe and, therefore, sometimes used for the classification of situations depicting strange phenomena or far- away origins. The Three Magi, for example, came from far-distant lands. It seems clear that a far-away animal like the monkey would have fit well with their characterization and the depiction of their journey.24 Monkeys were not mentioned in the Bible. Their use in medieval textual and visual evidence developed, on the one hand, towards their closeness to humans and, on the other hand, often in context with their of Hrastovlje (Slovenia). See Marijan Zadnikar, Hrastovije: romanska arhitektura in gotske freske (Hrastovlje: Romanesque architecture and Gothic frescoes), 2nd ed. (Ljubljana: Družina, 2002). Concerning birds in medieval art, see Brunsdon Yapp, Birds in Medieval Manuscripts (London: The British Library, 1981); Gertrud Roth-Bojadzhiev, Studien zur Bedeutung der Vögel in der mittelalterlichen Tafelmalerei (Cologne and Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 1985). 22 Concerning the variety of symbolic meanings and values of animals, see, e.g., L.A.J.R. Houwen (ed.), Animals and the Symbolic in Mediaeval Art and Literature (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1997). 23 For the functions and application of contrasts in late medieval society, see, e.g., Gerhard Jaritz (ed.), Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000). 24 See, e.g., Journey of the Three Magi, wall painting, John Aquila, 1387. Velemér (Hungary), Roman Catholic Church [Dénes Radocsay, Wandgemälde im mittelalterlichen Ungarn (Budapest: Corvina, 1977), 180]; Journey of the Three Magi, wall painting, 1504. Sv. Primož (Slovenia), filial church St Primus and St Felician [France Stele, Gotsko stensko slikarstvo (Gothic wall paintings) (Ljubljana: Mladinska knjiga, 1972), cxxx-cxxxii]; Journey of the Three Magi, wall painting, 1420-1430. Morter (South Tyrol), filial church of St Stephen in Obermontani [Edmund Theil, St. Stephan von Obermontani bei Morter, 3rd ed. (Bozen: Athesia 1986)].

219 Gerhard Jaritz manlikeness, towards symbols of a negative character: of malignity, mischievousness, friskiness, of ‘monkey-ing around’. Therefore, they could closely conform to visions of the fool (Fig. 13.11).25 They also moved towards superbia, to haughtiness, as indicated by the mirrors that they were shown holding (Fig. 13.12).26

Fig. 13.11. The monkey and the fool Gebetbuch Kaiser Friedrichs III (marginal illumination, fol. 257r), Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1447/1448 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1767, fol. 257r; © ÖNB, photo: Otto Pächt-Archiv, Institut für Kunstgeschichte, Universität Wien)

25 Concerning the taking over of bestiary images into the marginalia of psalters and bibles from the thirteenth century onwards, see Debra Hassig, “Marginal Bestiaries,” in Animals and the Symbolic in Medieval Art and Literature, ed. L.A.J.R. Houwen (Groningen; Egbert Forsten, 1997), 171-88. 26 For instance, in a Bible from Austria prepared around 1450. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1228, fol. 82r.

220 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots

Fig. 13.12. The monkey and the mirror Biblia latina in the possession of Nicolaus, parish priest of the Bohemian Winterberg (marginal illumination, fol. 82r), Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1450 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1228, fol. 82r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

However, such negative attributes and their representation would certainly have demanded perhaps originally not expected and, therefore, surprising positive contrasts as, for instance, also with regard to hogs, bears, dogs, cats and foxes, and so on.27 Thus, monkeys or apes could be moved into very familiar and positive spaces. The female monkey from a comparative Flemish example concentrates on spinning and the upbringing of her offspring, these being important positive activities that needed to be learned by women as indispensable parts of their obligations in family life (Fig. 13.13).28 The didactic message and moral is obvious: Look, how well even the normally so negative monkeys live and behave. Take their example and behave in a similar way!

27 Concerning animals representing examples for and mirrors of human behavior and values, see, e.g., Voisenet, Bêtes et Hommes, 255-83; Joyce E. Salisbury, The Beast Within: Animals in the Middle Ages (New York and London: Routledge, 1994), 103-36. 28 The female monkey as a positive example for women, taking care of children’s upbringing and doing the spinning; marginal manuscript illumination, Prayer Book of Charles the Bold (Book of Hours of Mary of Burgundy), Flanders, 1466-1477. Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1857, fol. 17r.

221 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 13.13. The (female) monkey as a positive example of good family life Horarium in membrana nigra scriptum usui principissae destinatum – Studenbuch der Maria von Burgund (Book of Hours of Mary of Burgundy, also known as Prayer Book of Charles the Bold) (marginal illumination, fol. 17r), the Flandrian master of Mary of Burgundy, coloured ink drawings on pergamen, 1470s (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1857, fol. 17r; © ÖNB, photo: Stundenbuch der Maria von Burgund (Gebetbuch Karls des Kuhnen). Faksimile-Ausgabe. Codices Selecti, XIV. Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1968, fol. 17r)

In conclusion, it should be emphasized that familiar as well as unfamiliar fauna and their visual representation played an important role in late medieval society. Both familiarity as well as unfamiliarity could be applied and were used to address audiences and beholders in various ways to mediate specific religious and secular messages. Images of strange animals as well as of ordinary ones offered a variety of possibilities for communication in a number of areas. In all these cases, one has to be aware of important networks but also differences with regard to the space in and for which visual or also textual information about animals was created. There was the scientific zoological space – certainly referring to medieval ‘symbolic zoology’, and

222 Oxen and Hogs, Monkeys and Parrots not the ‘realistic’ zoology that we are used to nowadays. In close context and relation to this zoological space, one has to be aware of the indispensable religious-theological range of ideas. There was also the broader public space meant for ‘everybody’ that may have concentrated both on didactic religious and secular contents.

Fig. 13.14. The parrot dies when the feathers are touched by rain drops Parrot killed by rain in Concordantiae caritatis (lower detail, fol. 226v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308–before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 226v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 226v)

In this way, familiar as well as unfamiliar animals and their context- bound visual representations were used to mediate easily understandable religious and secular messages as well as highly complex discourses that required extensive background knowledge to comprehend. Animal images could contain general and simple information about right and wrong but also embody difficult analogies. – One such analogy should finally be mentioned. Parrots were said to die when their feathers got wet

223 Gerhard Jaritz in the rain (Fig. 13.14).29 This example was then used for characterizing Saint Elizabeth of Hungary (Fig. 13.15)30 who was never touched by a drop of rain, – meaning that no “lust coming from any kind of worldly drop” had ever dishonored her heart, body, and spirit.

Fig. 13.15. St Elisabeth on her deathbed, never touched by a drop of lust during her life St Elisabeth of Hungary in Concordantiae caritatis (upper detail, fol. 226v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308–before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 226v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 226v)

29 The parrot dies when its feathers get wet from rain, as it is seen on a manuscript illumination, Concordantiae caritatis, around 1350. Cistercian house of Lilienfeld (Lower Austria), Cod. 151, fol. 226v: “Pluvia si tangis psitacum male mortibus angis (Rain, if you touch the parrot, you force him to death).” See Munscheck, Die Concordantiae caritatis, 430. 30 Ibidem: Deathbed of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary. See Munscheck, Die Concordantiae caritatis, 430.

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Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins*

Medieval discourses about the serpent of Garden Eden, its species, outer appearance, and actions can be found in a rich number. Some studies have already dealt with its occurrence in theological texts, encyclopaedias, natural scientific treatises, religious drama, and images from the late ancient until the early modern period.1 I do not want to repeat these analyses but intend to concentrate on the late medieval Christian visual evidence for one species of these serpents, that is, the draconcopes, the development of its image, and its roles as a representative of otherness and closeness. I will refer to Central European examples and compare them to Western European source evidence.

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins” in Animals and Otherness in the Middle Ages: Perspectives Across Disciplines, ed. Asís García García, Monica Ann Walker Vadillo, and María Victoria Chico Picaza (Oxford: BAR Publishing, 2013), 85-94. 1 See Hugo Schmerber, Die Schlange des Paradieses (Strasbourg: Heitz & Mündel), 1905; Alice Kemp-Welch, “The Woman-headed Serpent in Art,” The Nineteenth Century and After 52 (1902), 983-91; Henry Ansgar Kelly, “The Metamorphoses of the Eden Serpent during the Middle Ages and Renaissance,” in Witchcraft and Demonology in Art and Literature, ed. Brian P. Levack (New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1992), 225-56 [reprint from Viator 2 (1971), 301-28]; John K. Bonnell, “The Serpent with a Human Head in Art and in Mistery Play,” ibidem, 113-149 [reprint from American Journal of Archaeology 21 (1917), 255-291]; John M. Steadman, “’Sin’ and the Serpent of Genesis 3. Paradise Lost, I, 650-653,” Modern Philology LIV/4 (1957), 217-20; Marcel van der Voort, Van serpenten met venine. Jacob van Maerlant’s over slangen hertaald en van herpetologisch commentaar voorzien (Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 1993), 85-8; Marcel van der Voort, Dat seste boec van serpenten: een onderzoek naar en een uitgave van boek VI van Jacob van Maerlants Der naturen bloeme (Hilversum: Uitgeverij Verloren, 2001), 112-3.

Gerhard Jaritz

The draconcopes played an important role for a number of medieval theological and scientific authorities: Vincent of Beauvais (c. 1190-c. 1264), Albert the Great (c. 1200-1280), Thomas de Cantimpré (1201- 1270), Bonaventure (1221-1274), Konrad von Megenberg (1309-1374), the Hortus Sanitatis, and so on. The encyclopaedic Hortus Sanitatis from the end of the fifteenth century describes the medical use and impact of a large number of animals, plants, and minerals. The authorship of this illustrated book is unknown, but it is generally believed to have been compiled by its first printer, Jakob Meydenbach.2 The success of the book is proved by a new Strasbourg edition in 1497.3 It went through a number of further editions during the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century and was translated into French, English, German, and Dutch. The texts of the Hortus Sanitatis are mainly based on or refer to authorities like Galen, the Dioscurides, Saint Augustine, the Venerable Bede, Thomas de Cantimpré, and so on. The sections on plants are reminiscent of herbals, the ones on animals that of the bestiaries. Many of the descriptions would today be called fantasies, as one finds there, among others, the centaur, merman and mermaid, the unicorn – and the draconcopes (Fig. 14.1). What does the text say?

Draconcopedes. Ex libro de natura Draconcopedes serpentes sunt magni et potentes, facies habentes humanis similes, in draconum corpus desinentes. Credibile est huius generis illum fuisse per quem dyabolus Euam decepit: quia (sicut dicit Beda4) virgineum vultum habuit. Huic etiam dyabolus se coniungens vel applicans ut consimili forma mulierem alliceret. Faciem ei tantum ostendit et reliquam partem corporis arborum frondibus occultautit […]. (Draconcopedes: Out of the Liber de natura rerum: Draconcopedes are big and mighty serpents that have faces similar to the ones of human maidens ending with bodies of dragons. It is credible that this is the species with the help of which the mm

2 Mainz, 1491. 3 Hortus Sanitatis (Strasbourg: Johann Prüss the Older, 1497). 4 It is quite clear that Bede did actually not refer to the serpent in this way. See Steadman, “‘Sin’ and the Serpent,” 218; Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 309.

226 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

devil deceived Eve – because it had (as Bede says) a maiden- like face. This way, the devil joined and attracted the woman to allure her by similar appearance. He showed her only the face and hid the rest of the body under the leaves of the trees […].)5

Fig. 14.1. The draconcopes among the animals of “The Garden of Health” Hortus/Ortus Sanitatis (The Garden of Health), Tractatus de animalibus (detail, capitulum xlix: draconcopedes), first printed by Jacob Meydenbach in Mainz (1491) and later also by Johannes Prüm the Elder in Strassbourg (around 1499), coloured woodcuts on paper, 1490s (Cambridge, University Library, Inc. 3.A.1.8[37]; © CUL, photo: CUDL – cudl.cam.ac.uk)

5 Hortus Sanitatis (Strasbourg: Johann Prüss the Older, 1497), Tractatus de animalibus, cap. xlix: Draconcopedes.

227 Gerhard Jaritz

The illustration in Johann Prüss’ Hortus Sanitatis follows the textual version regarding the virginal face of the draconcopes; the body of the animal, however, does not: it is by no means dragon-like but has the appearance of a snake. The text of the Hortus Sanitatis is based on Thomas de Cantimpreé’s Liber de Natura Rerum,6 composed in the 1220s-1230s, and is a word-for- word copy from Vincent of Beauvais’ Speculum Naturale7 dated after 1250, which shows a continuity of the text of at least 250 years. Thomas de Cantimpré’s and Vincent of Beauvais’ texts are based on Petrus

6 See Thomas Cantimpratensis, Liber de natura rerum, part 1: text, ed. Helmut Boese (Berlin – New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1973), 283 (for the translation see Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 322-3): De dracontopedibus. Dracontopedes serpentes sunt, ut referente Adelino philosopho Greci dicunt, magni atque potentes. Hii facies habent virgineas faciebus similes humanis, sed in draconum corpus desinunt. De hoc genere serpentis credi potest fuisse serpentem, quo in malum suum et nostrum prima mater nostra Eva decepta fuit. Dicit enim Beda, quod serpens ille, quo usus est dyabolus in deceptione primorum parentum habuerit vultum virgineum. Sumpsit autem corpus serpentis dyabolus non sicut sumit anima corpus, sed sicut indumentum homo: non enim unum fuerunt dyabolus et serpens. Sumpsit, inquam, coniungendo vel potius applicando sibi faciemque serpentis virgineam demonstravit tantummodo femine, ut forma consimili alliceretur: omne enim animal, sicut dicit sapiens, diligit simile sibi. Partem vero reliquam corporis serpenti similem arborum frondibus occultavit […]. (About the dracontopedes. Dracontopedes are serpents of whom, following the philosopher Adelinus, the Greeks say that they are large and powerful. They have virginal faces similar to those of human beings, but they end in the bodies of dragons. It can be believed that the serpent was of this species, which deceived our first mother Eve to her and our Fall. For Bede says that the serpent which the devil used for the deception of the first parents had a virginal countenance. The devil took on the body of a serpent not as our soul takes on a body but as a human a piece of clothing: for the devil and the serpent were not one. He took it on, I say, to join or, better, to attract and showed this way the virginal face of the snake to the woman to allure her with a form similar to hers: every being, as the wise man says, loves what is similar to it. But he hid the remaining serpent-like part of the body under the leaves of the trees […].) Concerning the reference to and the Liber monstrorum ascribed to him see Claude Lecouteux, “Drachenkopp,” Euphorion 72 (1978), 340. 7 See Schmerber, Die Schlange, 16-8; Bonnell, “The Serpent,” 258; Steadman, “’Sin’ and the Serpent,” 218, n 11. See also Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 320-1.

228 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

Comestor’s (c. 1100-1178) Historia scholastica and the Eden serpent mentioned there.8 The reference to the English bishop Adelinus/Aldhelm (c. 639-709) in Thomas de Cantimpré’s description and some later adoptions refers to the dracontopodes, huge humanlike monsters with a dragon’s tail out of Greek fables, mentioned in the Liber monstrorum ascribed to Aldhelm. Thomas took the term over and used it for naming the serpent in Eden. As early as Vincent of Beauvais’ text the dracontopes had become draconcopes (that is, actually, dragonfoot). In later German or Dutch vernacular texts it then became drachenkopp, -kopf, that is, dragonhead, to be understood as a dragon with a human head.9

8 See Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 308-9. 9 See, for instance, Konrad von Megenberg, Das Buch der Natur. Die erste Naturgeschichte in deutscher Sprache, ed. Franz Pfeiffer (Stuttgart: Verlag von Karl Aue, 1861; reprint Hildesheim – Zurich – New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 1994), 270-1. Von dem drachenkopp. Draconcopes haizt ain drachenkopp und ist ain slang in Kriechenlant gar gréz und mahtig, sam Adelinus spricht. Diu slang hat ainr junkfrawen antlitz geleich ainem menschen, aber daz ander tail irs leibes geleicht ainem drachen. Nu sprechent die maister, daz diu slang derlai sei gewesen, diu Evam betrog in dem paradis, wan Beda spricht, daz diu selb slang ain junkfrawenantlitz hab gehabt, dar umb, daz si mit gleicher gestalt Evam zimt und zuolocket, wan der mensch und ain iegleich tier nimt seins geleichz und ist lustig gegen im. Diu selb slang, dé si Evam betrog, zaigt ir neur das haupt und verparg daz ander tail under der paum pleter und buschen […]. (About the dragonhead. The draconcopes, that is, dragon head is a big and mighty serpent in Greece, as Adelinus says. The serpent has a human virgin’s face, the other part of its body is dragonlike. The masters say that it was such a serpent which deceived Eve in Paradise. Bede says that the same serpent had the face of a virgin so that it restrained and allured Eve with likeness, because a human as well as an animal accept their equals and enjoy them. The same serpent, when deceiving Eve, showed her only the head and hid the other part of the body under the leaves of the trees and twigs […].) See also Lecouteux, “Drachenkopp,” 339-43, Concerning Thomas de Cantimpré’s Liber de natura rerum as basis for Konrad von Megenberg’s Buch der Natur see Benedikt Konrad Vollmann, “Thomas von Cantimpré und Konrad von Megenberg,” in Konrad von Megenberg (1309-1374): Ein spätmittelalterlicher ‘Enzyklopädist’ im europäischen Kontext, ed. Edith Feistner, Jahrbuch der Oswald von Wolkenstein-Gesellschaft 18 (2010-2011), 13-20.

229 Gerhard Jaritz

The draconcopes is thus a serpent that one finds regularly, all over Europe, textually and visually represented in the natural historical encyclopaedias as, for instance, in the Middle Dutch Der Naturen Bloeme by Jacob van Maerlant (c. 1235-c. 1291).10 The visual representation here is from a manuscript of van Maerlant’s encyclopaedia from about 1350 (Fig. 14.2). It presents the animal with the head of a human virgin, but the lower part of the body is different from the one in the later woodcut of the Hortus Sanitatis; it is more dragon-like and presents the animal as a big serpent with two legs. The flourishing period for the texts about and images of the maiden- faced serpents started in the thirteenth century and can be traced particularly from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries. Besides the

10 See Marcel van der Voort, Dat seste boec van serpenten, 112-3: Draconcopes es I serpent, Alse Adelinus wel kent, Starc ende groot ende sonder waen Int anschijn alse de maget gedaen, Mar neder ward ghelijc den drake. Wi wanen dies in ware sake, Dat tserpent was al dus ghedaen Dar die duvel hadde mede bestaen Onser herster moeder Hieven, Alse wi noch lesen in brieven. Want Beda seghet sonder waen, Dat dit serpent was ghedaen Int anschijn ghelije der maghet, Ende hadde die vrouwe also belaghet, Dat soe nit dan danschin ne sach. Wand dander lijf bedecket lach Met loveren ende met risen mede […]. (Draconcopes is, as Adelinus knows well, an undoubtedly strong and big serpent, in its face similar to a virgin but dragonlike below. We hold it for true that it was such a serpent with which the devil had attacked our first mother Eve, as we can read in the letters. Bede says without doubt that this serpent had a virgin-like face and deceived the woman in a way that she saw nothing else than the face, because the other part of the body was covered with leaves and also twigs […].) For the transliterations of the snake book, see: https://adcs.home.xs4all.nl/NatBl/Index.html, and https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/maer002dern02_01/index.php (last accessed September 25, 2019).

230 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

Natural Histories mentioned above, draconcopedes became relevant in theological and religious literature and pictures.

Fig. 14.2. The draconcopes in another “History of Nature” Jacob van Maerlant (1230/1235–around 1291): Der naturen bloeme, Flandrian master, Utrecht, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1340/1350 (The Hague, Nationale Biblioteek, Cod. KA 16, fol. 124v; © HNL, photo: www.kb.nl/themas/middeleeuwen/der-naturen-bloeme-jacob-van- maerlant/der-naturen-bloeme-lijst-van-afbeeldingen)

In a mid-fourteenth-century Concordantiae caritatis from the Lower Austrian Cistercian house of Lilienfeld, the New Testament ‘Kiss of Judas’ is compared with the actions of the draconcopes (Fig. 14.3). The caption says: Blanda non seua / Draconcopede fallitur Eua.11 The image, however, does not follow this caption and nor does the above-mentioned textual description of the serpent. On the one hand, the draconcopes does not deceive Eve, but a man wearing a green dress; on the other hand, the lower part of the body is not dragon-like but seems to be rather of a worm-like snake.

11 “Not fiercely but seductively, Eve was deceived by the draconcopes.”

231 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 14.3. A draconcopes A detail under the scene of Judas’ kisses in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 79v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (c. 1308 – c. 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 79v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 79v)

One sees, therefore, that sometimes the visual representations of the draconcopedes did not follow the descriptive texts and that serpents could receive different shapes or become even more hybrid. The seductive female head and virginal face, however, were mostly retained as important. In many cases in which adjoined texts do not exist or do not speak explicitly about the draconcopes or drachenkopf, the images of the serpent followed the written descriptions to some extent, but at the same considerably. An artistically rather provincial Austrian Speculum Humanae Salvationis from the 1330s, for instance, offers two images of the seduction of Eve by the serpent in Paradise which follow each other immediately and represent different realizations of the female-headed serpent that should probably visualize the devil’s ability to change his appearance (Fig. 14.4):

232 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

 once, in a particularly seductive way, the large serpent has a female human head and virginal face, but also the naked female upper part of a human body that ends in the dragon-like lower part of the body with wings, two legs, and a tail.  in the other example, the image on the following folio, in which Eve offers the fruit to Adam, the serpent is a human female- headed snake-like species wound around the tree.

Fig. 14.4. Change of the virgin-headed serpent at the Fall of Adam and Eve The Fall of Mankind in Speculum humanae salvationis (details, fol. 4r and fol. 4v), ink drawing on pergamen, 1330s (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. n. 2612, fol. 4r and fol. 4v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Sometimes the possibilities for the devil to occur in different guises were emphasized particularly by contrasting visual representations close to each other, in which the virginal-faced appearance could also play a relevant role. Thus, an illustration in an Austrian Biblia pauperum, again from the 1330s, shows the snake with a virginal face seducing Eve near the black, winged, and horned devil unsuccessfully trying to tempt Christ (Fig. 14.5).

233 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 14.5. Different bodies and faces of the devil at the Temptation of Christ and at the Fall of Adam and Eve Biblia pauperum (detail, fol. 3v), Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1330–1340 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1198, fol. 3v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 14.6. The female face and the upper part of the body of the serpent The Fall of Adam and Eve scene on the Notre Dame cathedral, Western portal, under the statue of the Virgin, carved stone, around 1220 (Paris, Notre Dame cathedral; photo: © Béla Zsolt Szakács, 2018)

Devils with the faces of virgins not only ‘lived’ in the, let us say, restricted ‘private’ space of Natural Histories and theological manuscripts. They ‘spoke’ to more people than just to the ‘specialists’, that is, also in religious dramas and, particularly, in visual representations in various public spaces. One of the most famous early examples of such a public serpent with a virginal face is certainly the stone sculpture from c. 1220

234 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins on the west facade of Notre Dame in Paris, on the pedestal below a statue of the standing Virgin Mary with Child (Fig. 14.6).12 Again the presentation of the serpent is seductive; the devil not only has the beautiful virgin-like female face but also naked breasts. Generally, this visual representation functioned as a kind of counter-image: the devilish maiden-like serpent seducing Eve and leading her, Adam, and mankind into sin versus the saintly Virgin Mary above them who has saved mankind.

Fig. 14.7. The crowned virgin-headed snake as the queen of Hell Fresco cycle dedicated to Old Testament scenes: Eve and her followers seduced by the draconcopes (detail), on the choir wall, master Leonhard von Brixen’s workshop, wall painting, around 1480 (Klerant/Cleran, South Tyrol, St Nicholas filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Such a contrast can also be recognized in other didactic public images. In the vaults of the South Tyrolean filial church of St Nicholas at Klerant, one finds, for instance, a wall painting of the Virgin Mary, queen of heaven, and her followers, and, to the left of it, another one representing Eve and her followers being seduced by the snake-like devil, shown as the queen of hell, with a crowned human head and the face of a virgin (Fig. 14.7). As this latter example shows, the draconcopes could also enter small village churches and offer its didactic message to lower class visitors. Other instances of this kind can, for instance, be traced in

12 See also Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 319.

235 Gerhard Jaritz churches in today’s Slovenia, like in a wall painting in the small village church of Hrastovlje in the very north of Istria (Fig. 14.8). There, the female head of the snake again wears a crown as she seduces Eve to take the apple from the forbidden tree.13

Fig. 14.8. Eve and the crowned, virgin-headed snake The Fall of Mankind (detail), on the wall of the nave, left side arcade, John of Kastav/Johannes de Castua (fifteenth century), Istrian master, wall painting, 1490 (Hrastovlje, Slovenia, Holy Trinity filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

When going back to the public space of the higher social strata of society and the visual representation of the scene for them, one can

13 Another Slovenian example can be found in the wall paintings of the filial church of Sveti Peter nad Begunjami from the 1530s. See the image database of the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit (Krems): https://realonline.imareal.sbg.ac.at/suche/?searchtext=3009921&searchfield= suche_alles (last access September 20, 2019).

236 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins mention the example from the cathedral cloister of Brixen (Bressanone) in South Tyrol, which represents a number of possible varieties of the devil’s appearance. In the vaults, one finds a wall painting from 1477 that shows the different frightening bodies, faces, and colours of devils connected with the seven Capital Sins surrounding the seduction of Eve and Adam by the devil as a serpent with a human virginal face.14 As already mentioned and shown, the images of the draconcopedes offer visual representations of some considerable varieties of the species; some are snake-like, others have dragon-like bodies, some show only a female human virginal face, others also a naked female upper part of the body. There may be differences concerning the share of human body parts, in particular. In a number of cases the human head developed into the naked human upper parts of female bodies ending in serpent-like abdomens.15 An impressive example in this respect is the representation of the Fall by Lucas Cranach the Elder from the 1520s (Fig. 14.9). Here, the serpent has become completely human except for missing legs, which are replaced by the serpent’s tail. This human-like being has also already come down from the tree, moved very close to Eve, and is pestering her physically.16

14 See the image database of the Institut für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit (Krems): https://realonline.imareal.sbg.ac.at/suche/?searchtext=7004005&searchfield= suche_alles (last access September 20, 2019). 15 For such half human bodies see already the images: Fig. 14.4 and Fig. 14.6. 16 Rather humanlike are, e.g., also the famous serpents in the representations of the Fall by Hugo van der Goes (c. 1440-1482), today in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, and the wall painting by Michelangelo (1475-1564) in the Sistine Chapel, Rome. With regard to the picture by Hugo van der Goes, see Robert A. Koch, “‘The Salamander in Van der Goes’ Garden of Eden,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 28 (1965), 323-6 and plates 47a-48c. Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 318 states that Van der Goes ‘has a serpent that looks like a child dressed in a salamander suit.’ Concerning general lists of a number of depictions of the serpents with a human head (and partly human upper part of the body) see Schmerber, Die Schlange, 23-31; Bonnell, “The Serpent,” 265-78; Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 316-9.

237 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 14.9. The virgin-headed serpent with a female upper part of the body and a tail Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472–1553): Der Sündenfall / The Fall of Mankind, woodcut printed on paper, around 1522 (Vienna, Albertina Grafische Sammlung, Inv. no. DG 1929/962; © Albertina, photo: Albertina)

Fig. 14.10. A dragon-like serpent of the Fall of Mankind Seduction of Adam and Eve by the serpent in the Biblia Paraphrasis (detail, fol. 5v), Salzburg master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, 1448 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2774, fol. 5v; © ÖNB, photo: Otto Pächt-Archiv, Institut für Kunstgeschichte, Universität Wien)

238 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

Fig. 14.11. The Drachenkopff as a fire-spitting, predatory cat-like dragon with four legs Konrad von Megenberg: Das Buch der Natur (detail, fol. 204r); Diebold Lauber’s workshop, coloured ink drawing on paper; around 1442–1448 (Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. Pal. Germ. 300, fol. 204r; © HUL, photo: DGF – www.digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de)

In contrast, there are still a number of examples of the visual representation of the serpent that did not follow the draconcopedes pattern of the virginal human face but show a ‘real’ snake or dragon (Fig. 14.10). Of particular interest in this respect are examples in which the visual representations are described as being depictions of draconcopedes, but the images contradict to the textual evidence. One of them is an image of the drachenkopf in a Heidelberg manuscript of Konrad von Megenberg’s Buch der Natur, in which, as already shown, the author followed the Latin descriptions in his translation and mentioned the human virginal face of

239 Gerhard Jaritz the drachenkopf.17 The image that is depicted below the heading Von dem drachen kopff and precedes the text18 (Fig. 14.11), however, does not follow the latter; the artist clearly did not understand the drachenkopf as a “dragon with a human head” but as a being with the head of a dragon. The picture shows a predatory cat-like fire-spitting dragon with four legs, a very long tail and a head without any resemblance to a human face. Thus, there is no relation between the image and the text describing it. This is quite different in the case of the scorpion and its representation in the same manuscript. It is again described as a virgin-headed snake:

Scorpio heisset ein schorppffe.19 Das ist ein slange die hat hor und gar ein senfftiges antlit glich einer küschen jungfrouwen antlit.20

Here, the artist followed the descriptive text: the animal that is killing a little dog with its tail is a snake which has the face of a beautiful woman (Fig. 14.12).21 Another piece that does not show a maiden-like face on the draconcopes leads into contemporary art and to the American artist Isaac Horn. Horn is member of “deviantArt”,22 a commercial American online-community offering a platform for artists to exhibit, discuss, and sell works. Horn’s art is based on fantasy and science fiction, mainly in the sphere of illustrations. He states, “I do traditional fantasy. I won’t draw real people, just not interesting, or realism or modern things. […] I

17 See above, note 9. 18 Concerning the illustrations in manuscripts and prints of Konrad von Megenberg’s Buch der Natur see Ulrike Spyra, Das “Buch der Natur” Konrads von Megenberg. Die illustrierten Handschriften und Inkunabeln (Cologne – Weimar – Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 2005); with regard to the Heidelberg codex Pal. Germ. 300 see ibidem, 84-7 and 274-9, concerning the dragon-like draconcopes in it see ibidem, 133. Cf. also Christoph Wagner, “Iconic turn im Mittelalter? Visualisierungsformen im Buch der Natur Konrads von Megenberg,” in Konrad von Megenberg (1309-1374), 61-80. 19 “Schorpe” means scorpion. 20 “Scorpio” is a “Schorpe”. This is a snake that got hair and a kind face similar to the one of a chaste virgin’ (Heidelberg, Cod. Pal. Germ. 300, fol. 211v). Concerning the tradition of the maiden-faced scorpion see Kelly, “Metamorphoses,” 312-3. 21 See also Spyra, Das “Buch der Natur,” fig. 27. 22 http://www.deviantart.com/ (last access May 20, 2012).

240 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins live and breathe fantasy, that’s what I do.”23 His draconcopedes (sic!) from 2009 (Fig. 14.13)24 has a female human head, although not like the serpents with the seducing face of a beautiful virgin, but rather with an ugly and frightening grimace: meaning, on the one hand, a continuation of the medieval pattern, on the other hand, however, an explicit change of meaning.25

Fig. 14.12. The virgin- headed scorpion Konrad von Megenberg: Das Buch der Natur (detail, fol. 211r); Diebold Lauber’s workshop, coloured ink drawing on paper; around 1442–1448 (Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. Pal. Germ. 300, fol. 211r; © HUL, photo: DGF – www.digi.ub.uni- heidelberg.de)

Let us go back from Isaac Horn’s “lived and breathed fantasy” of draconcopedes to a summary concerning their medieval visual ‘reality’. In

23 ~lvl9Drow (Isaac Horn), “Just clear in old journal” 2010, (http://Ivl9drow.deviantart.com/journal/#/d3qvjud (last access May 20, 2012). 24 See also: https://www.deviantart.com/search?q=Draconopedes (last access September 20, 2019). 25 See ibidem, the artist’s statement: “A Draconopedes is [!] often portrayed as the creature at the tree tempting Eve in Eden. In some myths it’s Lucifer in others it’s these things here. Some of you might be familiar with the picture of the snake with the upper torso of a women wrapped around a tree. In a lot of myths their [they are!] winged as well.”

241 Gerhard Jaritz his article, John M. Steadman stated that the images of the serpent of Genesis 3 fall into three categories. He put them in order of their quantity of occurrence:26

 most often, “a bona fide serpent, of considerable length, twined around the tree of knowledge;”  less frequently, the serpent with a woman’s head that “retains its serpentine form from the neck downwards;”  a serpent that is “human from the waist up, with a woman’s head, arms, and bust.”

Fig. 14.13. A modern “fantasy drawing” of the medieval draconcopedes By the contemporary artist Isaac Horn (© Isaac Horn, 2009; photo: www.deviantart.com, 30.09.2019)

Generally, one can agree with this statement and order, although the serpent with a female head and face played a particular role in the late

26 Steadman, “‘Sin’ and the Serpent,” 219.

242 Draconcopedes, or, the Faces of Devilish Virgins

Middle Ages. One also has to consider the many hybrids that can be found in the images in public as well as non-public space. The draconcopes as the devilish serpent from Paradise with a maiden- like face and, at the same time, the representative of a medieval zoological species has to be seen as a being whose message was important for all levels of Christian society, in religious and theological as well as in learned secular space, and also as a general didactic medium for everyone’s daily life, for members of the upper classes as well as the lower strata, in texts, images, and plays. Draconcopedes were a particular reality that were intended to influence one’s existence: as a warning, a help to understanding, a motivation to be careful in communicating with others, or a demand to change one’s life for the better – a ‘real’ being representing closeness and otherness at the same time. If not recognized, it could destroy the hopes and salvation of oneself, and even of all of mankind.

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Dogs in Church*

The past Sunday a couple visitors brought their dog to church. The dog apparently enjoys worship, so they took their dog with them and found an empty seat on the front row of the 11 a.m. service. The dog did not have a leash or a crate. The owners would hold the dog, set it down on the seat next to them, and occasionally lose control of it. I think it spent most of the service on the carpet close to where our pastor was valiantly preaching while trying not to be distracted. [...] I felt that the dog was extremely distracting. I was especially outraged to watch it urinate in our foyer. The dog owners dabbed up the urine with a napkin before exiting the building.

This is part of a report by Matt Messner, pastor at Eastside Church in Bothell, Washington, from January 25, 2007.1 Matt deals with a problem that occurs sometimes in today’s church meetings (Fig. 15.1) and has a long tradition. On May 6, 1882, for instance, the Gonzales Inquirer from Gonzales County (Texas) offered the following story:

After calm deliberation and mature judgment, we have reached the decided opinion that it does not improve the morals, and elevate the manners of dogs, to have them attend church, and we are positive that nothing is added to the comfort of the worshippers by their presence.

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Dogs in Church,” in Animaltown. Beasts in Medieval Urban Space, eds. Alice Choyke, Gerhard Jaritz (Oxford: BAR Publishing, 2017), 43-51. 1 Matt Messner, “Dogs in Church,” 2007. Available at: http://mattmessner.blogspot.hu/2007_01_01_archive.html (last access March 28, 2017).

Dogs in Church

In fact, we believe that church-going dogs are the most depraved of the canine family. They generally consider it the time and place to show their pugnacity and animosity to the rest of the gang that have congregated there. They make themselves at home in a manner that is supremely exasperating to average mortality. […] The difficulties between the canines are generally adjusted in the middle of the church, and all other proceedings are generally brought to a close until the settlement is reached, and each one will resent an invitation to leave as a personal insult. […] There were only five out last Sunday, but that was enough, and they made themselves felt, seen and heard. As members of a congregation assembled for religious worship, dogs are a decided failure.2

Fig. 15.1. Dog in church: “Thought I’d put this foto up to show that sometimes dogs like to attend church services too” (© Wendell Schloneger, 2007; photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wendellds/2051009859, 30.09.2019)

2 Murray Montgomery, “Dogs in Church: Vintage Wit from Gonzales County.” Available at: http://www.texasescapes.com/DEPARTMENTS/Guest_Columnists/Times_ past/Dogs_in_church.htm (last access March 28, 2017). See also Messner, “Dogs in Church,” note 1.

245 Gerhard Jaritz

The dog in church also found its way into the literature of the second half of the nineteenth century. At a church service in chapter V of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain,3 first published in 1876, “a vagrant poodle came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change.” It spied a beetle and started to fight with the latter. This made “the whole church […] red-faced and suffocating with suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill.” All these remarks describe a phenomenon that one also can trace in sources of the eighteenth, seventeenth, and sixteenth centuries, and the late Middle Ages, too. The richest evidence for the post-medieval period has been found for Scotland and England,4 mainly from urban and rural space: “There it was not only the shepherds taking their dogs with them to the service,”5 but sometimes one may find general critique and regulation, as in the Records of the Kirk-Session and Presbitery of Aberdeen from 1652 to 1657:

[…] many of the inhabitants of this burgh, both men and women, brings with them their dogges to the paroch kirk on the Lord’s day, and uther dayes in the weik, in tyme of sermones and Divine service, whair throw and be the barking and perturbation of these dogges, the people are aftin withdrawn from hearing of God’s word, and often Divine service is interrupted, ane thing that is not comelie to be seen in the house of God, so it is not to be comported with in a civil burgh; for removing the quhilk abuse the magistrates, ministers, eldaris and deacons of the Kirk-session of this burgh hes statut and ordanit, and be thir presentes statutes and ordaines, that no inhabitant whosoever within the same suffer thair dogges, whether they be mastives, curres, or messens [lapdogs] […] to follow them heireftir to the paroche kirk of this burgh on the Saboth day, nor no uther day in the weik, in tyme of sermones and public prayeris; certefyeing all these persones whose dogges sall be sein and knowin in the said kirkes the tymes foresaid, that they […]efter tryall

3 Mark Twain, Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, ed. A. Gribben (Montgomery: New South Books, 2011), 69-70. 4 J. M. MacKinlay, “Dogs in Church,” Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 31 (1896-97), 98-103. 5 MacKinlay, “Dogs in Church,” 98.

246 Dogs in Church

and conviction, sall pay to the collector of the Kirk Session of that burgh the sowme of fourtie shillings Scots money for the use of the poor […].6

In some English parishes men were appointed to whip dogs out of church. In the parish of Trysull, Staffordshire, for instance, in 1725, a poor man was to receive 20 shillings a year to keep the parishioners awake in the church and to prevent the entry of stray dogs.7 The so-called dogwhippers may be found in a number of English sources from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries. Dogs in the church also found their way into a number of proverbs and sayings, of which some have their medieval roots:

Ein Hund bleibt ein Hund, auch wenn er oft zur Kirche geht!8 (A dog remains a dog, even if it often goes to church)9

Wie der Hund in die Kirche kommt, so geht er wieder hinaus. (As the dog gets into the church, it gets out of it)10

Cacciarlo come un can fuor d’una chiesa11 (To chase him out of church like a dog)12

Der Hund wird auch in der Kirche geprügelt (The dog is also beaten in church)13

6 MacKinlay, “Dogs in Church,” 99. 7 MacKinlay, “Dogs in Church,” 100. 8 See also Friedrich Lüers, Die deutschen Lieder der Carmina Burana nach der Handschrift CLM 4660 der Staatsbibliothek München (Bonn: A. Marcus und E. Weber’s Verlag, 1922), 107: Gienge ein hunt des tages tusent stunt ze chirchen, er ist doch ein hunt. (Would a dog go to church for a thousand hours every day, it would still be a dog); with a number of similar versions. See also Karl F. W. Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon. Ein Hausschatz für das deutsche Volk, vol. 2 (Leipzig, Brockhaus., 1870), col. 846, n. 673: Hund bleibt Hund, auch wenn er vor der Kirchen stund. (A dog remains a dog, even when it is in front of the church). 9 Ignaz Vinzenz Zingerle, Die deutschen Sprichwörter im Mittelalter (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1865), 75; Thesaurus Proverbiorum Medii Aevi, vol. 6 (Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 1998), 225. 10 Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon, col. 875, n. 1299. 11 See also Thesaurus Proverbiorum Medii Aevi, 271-2: Der Hund wird aus der Kirche und der Versammlung getrieben (The dog is expelled from the church and the congregation). 12 Thesaurus Proverbiorum Medii Aevi, 239. 13 Thesaurus Proverbiorum Medii Aevi, 239.

247 Gerhard Jaritz

Was soll der Hund in der Kirche, er versteht die Predigt doch nicht (Why have the dog in church, it doesn’t understand the sermon)14

Hundegebell gehört nicht in die Kirche. (Dogs’ barking does not fit in the church)15

Kinder und Hunde gehören nicht in die Kirche. (Children and dogs should not be in the church)16

Wo ist der Hund sonst, wenn nicht in der Kirche und auf der alten Leute Bank. (Where else is the dog, if not in the church and on the old people’s bench)17

Wenn man den Hund in die Kirche lässt, so geht er auch auf den Altar. (If one lets the dog into the church, it also goes to the altar)18

Der Hund fürchtet sich ja nicht, in der Kirche zu harnen. (The dog does not fear to urinate in church)19

Remarks, discussion, and critique about wrong behaviour in church are generally a phenomenon that one can trace for every denomination and religious community. In the late Middle Ages this is particularly true for urban and rural space where the direct or indirect confrontation of the churchgoer with the discourse about the dangers of such bad behaviour may be found regularly, with the help of texts and images:

 directly, for instance, in sermons or with the help of warning wall paintings inside or outside the churches;20

14 Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon, col. 863, n. 1034. 15 Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon, col. 899. 16 Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon, col. 1295, n. 562. 17 Estnische Sprichwörter mit der buchstäblichen Übersetzung in die deutsche Sprache, n. d., part 10. Available at: http://www.folklore.ee/rl/date/saksa/teil10.htm (last access March 28, 2017). 18 Wander (ed.), Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexikon, col. 869, n. 1175. 19 Estnische Sprichwörter mit der buchstäblichen Übersetzung in die deutsche Sprache, n. d., part 3. Available at: http://www.folklore.ee/rl/date/saksa/teil03.htm (last access March 28, 2017). 20 Athene Riess, The Sunday Christ: Sabbatarianism in English Medieval Wall Painting (Oxford: Archaeopress 2000); Gerhard Jaritz, “Zur Visualisierung des Arbeitsverbotes im Spätmittelalter,” in Wert und Bewertung von Arbeit im Mittelalter

248 Dogs in Church

 indirectly, especially in woodcuts or etchings and in short didactic texts that were sometimes, if already printed, published in large numbers and also translated in other languages. All of those represented particular objects characteristic of production and reception in urban space.21

Problems raised by dogs are sometimes part of a general discourse. A fifteenth-century regulation from Nuremberg states that at night a number of people were disturbed by those dogs that burghers had let out of their houses. Therefore, it was ordered that, after the ringing of the night-bell, no dog was allowed to be let out from houses anymore, but they should be locked inside until bright daytime.22 In Vienna, in 1444, the dog slayer (huntschlager) received two pence for each of the 866 neglected dogs that were exterminated in this year.23 In his History of the English Parish Norman J. G. Pounds also dealt with church maintenance in the late Middle Ages and remarked:24 “The floor was usually strewn with straw or rushes, both to absorb the filth which accumulated and also to provide for softer kneeling. Dogs often accompanied their masters to church and frolicked amid the straw.

und in der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz and Käthe Sonnleitner (Graz: Institut für Geschichte der Universität, 1995), 185-93; Gerhard Jaritz, “Gender, Gesprächsbarrieren und visueller Befund im späten Mittelalter,” in Zwischen Babel und Pfingsten / Entre Babel et Pentecôte, Sprachdifferenzen und Gesprächsverständigung in der Vormoderne (8.-16. Jahrhundert) / Différences linguistiques et communication orale avant la modernité (VIIIe-XVIe siècle), ed. Peter von Moos (Zürich and Berlin: Lit, 2008), 665-86. 21 Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives: Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1989). 22 Joseph Baader (ed.), Nürnberger Polizeiordnungen aus dem XII bis XV Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: Litterarischer Verein, 1861; reprint Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1966), 331; Evamaria Engel and Frank-Dietrich Jacob, Städtisches Leben im Mittelalter. Schriftquellen und Bildzeugnisse (Cologne, Weimar, and Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 2006), 76. 23 Georg Wacha, “Tiere und Tierhaltung in der Stadt sowie im Wohnbereich des spätmittelalterlichen Menschen und ihre Darstellung in der bildenden Kunst,” in Das Leben in der Stadt des Spätmittelalters (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1977), 240. 24 Norman J. G. Pounds, A History of the English Parish. The Culture of Religion from Augustine to Victoria (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 396.

249 Gerhard Jaritz

Occasionally, and chiefly before a major festival, a few pence were spent on raising the fouled straw and replacing it with clean.”

Fig. 15.2. Disturbances in church during the holy mass and the preaching Das Schwatzen in der Kirche (Murmuring and gossiping in the church), Straßburg, metal etching, around 1490–1500 (Gotha, Herzogliches Museum, Inv. no. Schr. 2761; © Gotha Museum, photo: W. L. Schreiber: Holzschnitte, Metallschnitte, Teigdrucke aus dem Herzoglichen Museum zu Gotha und Kunst- und Altertumssammlungen Veste Coburg. Einblattdrucke der fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, Bd. 64. Strassburg: Heitz, 1928, plate 18)

250 Dogs in Church

One can find an important critical visual representation concerning the phenomenon of dogs in the church in a metal etching from Strasbourg, produced at the end of the fifteenth century that clearly had its main audience in urban space (Fig. 15.2). It shows a variety of possible misbehaviour in church, but the caption concentrates on gossip, and particularly on female gossip. It says:

Niemand kann vol sagen noch schreiben Das schwaczen der bosen weiben. Noch vil grosser schann, wann es tund die mann. (Nobody can really tell nor write about the gossip of bad women. But it is still a greater scandal, if it is done by men.)

Fig. 15.3. Woman in church with her lapdog Das Schwatzen in der Kirche (detail), Straßburg, metal etching, around 1490–1500 (Gotha, Herzogliches Museum, Inv. no. Schr. 2761; © Gotha Museum, photo: W. L. Schreiber: Holzschnitte, Metallschnitte, Teigdrucke aus dem Herzoglichen Museum zu Gotha und Kunst- und Altertumssammlungen Veste Coburg. Einblattdrucke der fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, Bd. 64. Strassburg: Heitz, 1928, plate 18)

251 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 15.4. Young men in church with falcon and dog Das Schwatzen in der Kirche (detail), Straßburg, metal etching, around 1490–1500 (Gotha, Herzogliches Museum, Inv. no. Schr. 2761; © Gotha Museum, photo: W. L. Schreiber: Holzschnitte, Metallschnitte, Teigdrucke aus dem Herzoglichen Museum zu Gotha und Kunst- und Altertumssammlungen Veste Coburg. Einblattdrucke der fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts, Bd. 64. Strassburg: Heitz, 1928, plate 18)

The picture shows such misbehaviour at a church service and a sermon. Both are taken note of by the devil. The scenes are connected with the biblical story of the Merchants in the Temple who are expelled from it by Jesus. The visual representation uses contrasts. There are the good and attentive women who are crowned by an angel, and there are the bad gossiping ones whom the devil is about to catch hold of (Fig. 15.3). One of those bad women had also taken her pet dog to church. She is not the only one disturbing the religious service with the help of animals. There are also two young men who are more interested in communicating about hunting than in the church service (Fig. 15.4). One of them had his lion-like dog and his falcon with him. This visual representation of dogs and a falcon in church is clearly related to one of the most popular German texts of the end of the fifteenth century that was published in many editions and underwent a number of translations; two into Latin, one into Dutch, one into Low German, three into French and two into English: Sebastian Brant’s

252 Dogs in Church

Narrenschiff (“Ship of Fools”), first published in German in 1494.25 The chapter on Gebracht in der kirchen, that is, “Noise in the church” deals with those who take birds and dogs into the church and disturb the prayer of other people:

Man darff nit fragen / wer die sygen By den die hund inn kylchen schrygen So man meß hat / predigt / und singt Oder by den der habich schwyngt Und důt syn schellen so erklyngen Das man nit betten kann noch syngen […] Lyeß yederman syn hund im huß Das nit eyn dieb stiel ettwas dar uß Die wile man wer zů kilchen gangen […] Christus der gab uns des exempel Der treib die wechßler uß dem tempel Und die do hatten tuben feil Treib er in zorn uß mit eym seil […]

(Don’t ask who those are who let their dogs make noise in church, during service, sermon and singing, or those who let their hawk swing and let its bell ring so that one can neither pray nor sing. […] Everybody should leave the dog at home to save the house from thieves while being at church.

25 Sebastian Brant, Das Narrenschiff, ed. Manfred Lemmer, 3rd ed. (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1986), 107-8.

253 Gerhard Jaritz

[…] Christ gave the example when he expelled the merchants from the temple and those who sold pigeons there. In his wrath he expelled them with a rope.)

Fig. 15.5. On the way to church with dogs and a hunting bird Sebastian Brant (1457/1458–1521): Narrenschiff or Daß Narrenschyff ad Narragoniam, printed by Johann Bergmann von Olpe in Basel / Peter Wagner in Nürnberg (coloured), illustration by Albrecht Dürer (?), woodcut, 1494 (Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Inv. no. GW05042, fol. 33v; © HUB, photo: DGF – www.digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de; uncoloured woodcut photo: Felix Bobertag (Hg.): Sebastian Brants Narrenschiff. Berlin–Stuttgart: W. Spemann, 1889, 114)

Sebastian Brant’s text and the contents of the mentioned metal etching are rather close to each other. The text in Sebastian Brant’s Narrenschiff is illustrated by a woodcut (Fig. 15.5), probably by Albrecht Dürer that does not show the disturbance in church but a man making himself ready to go to church, together with two dogs and a bird of prey.

254 Dogs in Church

The translations of the Narrenschiff give sometimes different emphasis on the story; one example may be offered. The English translation by Alexander Barclay was published in 1509. In today’s understanding it is no real translation. He modified the text quite intensively and tells the stories more in detail. The respective chapter tells:

Of them that make noyses rehersynges of talys and do other thynges vnlaufull and dishonest in ye chirche of god. A fole is he, and hath no mynde deuoute And gyueth occasyon to men on hym to rayle. Whiche goth in the chirche, his houndes hym aboute Some rennynge, some fast tyed to his tayle. A hawke on his fyst suche one withouten fayle Better were to be thens, for by his dyn and cry He troublyth them that wolde pray deuoutly: Yet of mo folys fynde I a great nomber Whiche thynke that it is no shame nor vylany Within the chirche, the seruyce to encomber With theyr lewde barkynge roundynge dyn and cry And whyle good people ar praynge stedfastly Theyr herte to good, with meke mynde and deuout Suche folys them let, with theyr mad noyse and shout […] Another on his fyst a Sparhauke or fawcon Or els a Cokow, and so wastynge his shone Before the auters he to and fro doth wander With euyn as great deuocyon as a gander In comys another his houndes at his tayle With lynes and leshes and other lyke baggage. His dogges barkyth, so that withouten fayle The hole church is troubled by their outrage […] One tyme the hawkys bellys Jenglyth hye Another tyme they flutter with theyr wynges And nowe the houndes barkynge strykes the skye Now sounde theyr fete, and nowe the chaynes rynges

255 Gerhard Jaritz

[…] And nat withstandynge that Christ our sauyour Hath left vs example, that none sholde mysdo Within the chirche, yet inclyne we nat therto. Jhonn the euangelyst doth openly expres How criste our sauyour dyd dryue out and expell From the Temple, suche as vsed there falsnes And all other that therin dyd bye and sell. […]26

Sebastian Brant’s chapter about animals in church and also the translated versions that are based on his text are generally the most important evidence of such kind of satiric-didactic critique that is common for the second half of the fifteenth and the sixteenth century. They certainly also influenced the later discourses. For instance, in the English Book of Homilies, issued in 1563, there is a sermon concentrating in one part on the fabric of the church: “It is the house of prayer, not the house of talking, of walking, of brawling, of minstrels, of hawkes, of dogs.”27 At about the same time as Sebastian Brant wrote his Narrenschiff, in 1495, Israhel van Meckenhem created a series of twelve copper plate images dealing with “Daily Life” and showing couples and their misconducts and unequality, again in a humoristic, satiric, and didactic- moralising way.28 One of them is the “Churchgoers” (Fig. 15.6): The couple on their way to church represent a multitude of wrong behaviour and disturbance: They are gossiping, the woman more than the man (represented by her longer banderol); they want to show off with their clothing and special objects, like the extra-long rosary; and they take their pet dog with them to the service.

26 Alexander Barclay (trans.), The Ship of Fools, vol. 1 (Edinburgh and London: William Paterson and Henry Sotheran & Co., 1874), 220-4. 27 MacKinlay, “Dogs in Church,” 101. 28 D. G. Scillia, “Israhel van Meckenem’s Marriage a la Mode: The Alltagsleben,” in New Images of Medieval Women. Essays toward a Cultural Anthropology, ed. Edelgard E DuBruck (Lewiston et al.: Mellen Press, 1989), 205-37.

256 Dogs in Church

Fig. 15.6. Men on the way to church with an accompanying dog Churchgoers, Israhel van Meckenem the Younger (1440/1445–1503), copper engraving, around 1495 (Washington, D.C., National Gallery of Art – Rosenwald Collection, Inv. no. 1943.3.156; © NGA, photo: Max Lehrs: Geschichte und kritischer Katalog des deutschen, niederländischen und französischen Kupferstichs im XV. Jahrhunderts. Band 9. Wien: Gesellschaft für vervielfältigende Kunst, 1934, 390)

257 Gerhard Jaritz

The dog in church could, thus, serve as one part of a general representation of negative activities happening there. Another example that I would like to offer does not originate from urban space but from a pilgrimage in the Austrian province of Tyrol near the important town of Innsbruck. The detail of a panel painting (Fig. 15.7) in the parish church of Seefeld from about 1500 shows a white dog lying beside the kneeling server ringing the liturgical bell. The whole painting (Fig. 15.8) represents a religious service, and one will only understand the situation when knowing the story behind it. It refers to the legend about an incident said to have happened in 1384 (some sources date it to 1376): There lived a proud and violent knight, Oswald Milser, at the castle on the Schlossberg above Seefeld who was not satisfied with a normal small communion wafer but wanted a big one like the priests. Becoming frightened, the priest followed the knight’s wish and gave him a big host. At this moment the ground on which the altar was positioned started to open and was about to swallow the knight. Out of fear the knight asked the priest to take the host out of his mouth again. The priest did so, and one saw that the communion wafer had become red as blood. Because of this miracle the knight repented, left his castle and joined the Cistercian house of Stams.29 The miracle became famous and the community grew into an important pilgrimage place. The dog on the picture fits the incident: by joining the proud and violent knight and his servants to the church, it became an active and adequate participant in the disturbance that had happened during the religious service. It has to be emphasised that dogs in medieval sources, in textual as well as in visual ones, could represent a variety of different, context- bound functions, roles and symbolic connotations, in a negative and in a positive way.30 In this contribution, I did not want to concentrate on this

29 Ignaz Vinzenz Zingerle (ed.), Sagen aus Tirol, 2nd ed. (Innsbruck: Wagner, 1891), 504-5, n. 867; Meinrad Bader, Seefeld und seine Wallfahrtsstätten (Innsbruck: Vereinsbuchdruckerei, 1909), 8-10; P. O. Schenker, “Das weltberühmte Wunder in Seefeld,” available at: http://immaculata.ch/archiv/seefeld1.htm (last access March 28, 2017) . 30 Albrecht Classen, “The Dog in German Courtly Literature: The Mystical, the Magical, and the Loyal Animal,” in Fauna and Flora in the Middle Ages. Studies of the Medieval Environment and its Impact on the Human Mind. Papers Delivered at the International Medieval Congress Leeds, in 2000, 2001 and 2002, ed. Sieglinde Hartmann (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2007), 67-86; A. Smets, “L’image ambiguë

258 Dogs in Church variety and ambiguity but just on one aspect that one finds in sources from the Middle Ages until the twenty-first century, as part of, sometimes, everyday church life: the (danger of) disturbances raised by dogs in the House of God during religious services. All the given examples have represented dogs, on the one hand, as parts of the daily life of the (urban) society. On the other hand, however, when they entered church, they might have become initiators of or, at least, active participants in disturbances that could be well used in humoristic- moralising-didactic texts and images which sold well.

Fig. 15.7. Dog in church at the occasion of the desecration of a host The wonders of Corpus Christi – Hostienwunder panel (detail), in the presbitery of the church, Jörg Kölderer (1465/1470–1540), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Seefeld, Tyrol, St Oswald parish and pilgrimage church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

du chien à travers la littérature didactique latine et française (XIIe-XIVe s.),” Reinardus 14 (2001), 243-53.

259 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 15.8. The communion of the proud knight in the parish church of Seefeld The wonders of Corpus Christi – Hostienwunder panel, in the presbitery of the church, Jörg Kölderer (1465/1470–1540), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Seefeld, Tyrol, St Oswald parish and pilgrimage church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

260

Objects

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The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life: A Review of Patterns and Contrasts*

The history of everyday life was fashionable in the 1970s and 1980s, particularly in German-speaking historical research,1 but since this fashion has visibly decreased. It has, however, had quite a number of positive results, and the subject has become a serious and seriously taken field among the historical disciplines.2

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life: A Review of Patterns and Contrasts,” in New approaches to the History of Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe, ed. Troels Dahlerup, Per Ingesman (Copenhagen: Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters, 2009), 122-43. 1 See, e.g., Norbert Elias, “Zum Begriff des Alltags,” in Materialien zur Soziologie des Alltags, ed. K. Hammerich and M. Klein, Kölner Zeitschrift für Soziologie und Sozialpsychologie. Sonderheft, 20 (Wiesbaden: VS Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften, 1978), 22-9; Peter Borscheid, “Plädoyer für eine Geschichte des Alltaglichen,” in Ehe, Liebe, Tod: Zum Wandel der Familie, der Geschlechts- und Generationsbeziehungen in der Neuzeit, ed. P. Borscheid and H. J. Teuteberg (Münster: Coppenrath, 1983.), 1-14 and Peter Borscheid, “Alltagsgeschichte – Modetorheit oder neues Tor zur Vergangenheit?,” in Sozialgeschichte in Deutschland 3, ed. V. Sellin (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck u. Ruprecht, 1987), 78-100; Klaus Tenfelde, “Schwierigkeiten mit dem Alltag,” Geschichte und Gesellschaft 10 (1984), 376-94; Alf Lüdtke (ed.), The History of Everyday Life. Reconstructing Historical Experiences and Ways of Life (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995); Peter Scholliers, “Major Turns in European Social Historiography,” Tijdschrift voor sociale geschiedenis 23 (1997), 130-3; Jürgen Kocka, “Social History in Germany,” Tijdschrift voor sociale geschiedenis 23 (1997), 140-2. 2 A group of critics, however, still may be traced. In the 1980s, Hans-Ulrich Wehler spoke of historians of everyday life as dealing with ‘bland, conventional oatmeal’: see Lüdtke (ed.), The History of Everyday Life, 10. In the mid-1990s, Arnold Esch still did not recognise any value in the history of daily life. He

Gerhard Jaritz

Medievalists did not participate or contribute considerably to the theoretical and methodological discussion on the history of daily life; if they did, it was later than the representatives of modern or contemporary history.3 Among the main results of the discussion was that it demonstrated the necessity of an interdisciplinary approach, dealing with various evidence in written texts, pictorial sources, and archaeological/materials.4 This also meant leaving the boundaries of the posed the question ‘Hat die Alltagsgeschichte Zukunft?’ and, without any convincing arguments, gave the answer himself in negating any future for the field, or ‘nur insofern, als sie einen kleinen, dienenden Bezug auf das Gesamtbild hat’. See Arnold Esch, “Beobachtungen zu Stand und Tendenzen der Mediävistik aus der Perspektive eines Auslandsinstituts,” in Stand und Perspektiven der Mittelalterforschung am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts, ed. O. G. Oexle, Göttinger Gespräche zur Geschichtswissenschaft, 2 (Göttingen: Wallstein-Verlag, 1996), 32-5. 3 See Robert Jütte, “In Search of Material Culture and Everyday Life in Germany,” in Germany: A New Social and Economic History, ed. Sh. C. Ogilvie and R. W. Scribner, (London: Arnold, 1995), 327-53; Hans-Werner Goetz, “Geschichte des mittelalterlichen Alltags. Theorie – Methoden – Bilanz der Forschung,” in Mensch und Objekt im Mittelalter. Leben – Alltag – Kultur, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, 13 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 568 (Vienna: Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1990), 67-101; Hans-Werner Goetz, “Methodological Problems of a History of Everyday Life in the Early Middle Ages,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 30 (1994), 10-21; Hans-Werner Goetz, Moderne Mediävistik. Stand und Perspektiven der Mittelalterforschung (Darmstadt: Primus-Verlag, 1999), 299-310; Anja Romeikat, “Hat die Alltagsgeschichte Zukunft?,” in Moderne Mediävistik, 310-8; Gerhard Jaritz, Zwischen Augenblick und Ewigkeit. Einführung in die Alltagsgeschichte des Mittelalters (Vienna: Böhlau, 1989); Gerhard Jaritz, “Methodological Aspects of the History of Everyday Life in the Late Middle Ages,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 30 (1994), 22-7. 4 See Hans-Werner Goetz, “Interdisziplinarität im Rahmen eines Perspektivenwechsels heutiger Geschichtswissenschaft,” Das Mittelalter. Zeitschrift des Mediävistenverbandes 4 (1999), 49-55; Helmut Hundsbichler, “Interdisziplinarität und Mediävistik,” Das Mittelalter. Zeitschrift des Mediävistenverbandes 4 (1999), 17-29. Cf. Harry Kühnel (ed.), Alltag im Spätmittelalter, 4th ed. (Graz: Kaleidoskop, 1996); Christopher Dyer, Everyday Life in Medieval England (London and Rio Grande: Hambledon Press, 1994); Pilar Hernandez Iñigo, “La cultura material en la Edad Media. Documentacion y

264 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life humanities.5 Also emphasised was the importance of comparative, qualitative and quantitative studies.6 The weakness of some ‘Histories of Everyday Life in the Middle Ages’ can be seen in the rather descriptive approaches and results of research offered, with too little care taken for the contextualities of the source material. One still can recognise the tradition of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Kulturgeschichte.7 The problems and influences of norm and practice,8 of (patterns of) intention and (patterns of)

fuentes para su estudio,” in Historia a debate. Medieval, C. Barros (Santiago de Compostela: Historia a debate, 1995), 235-50. 5 See Gerhard Jaritz (ed.), History of Medieval Life and the Sciences, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 4 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000). 6 See, e.g., Jaritz, Zwischen Augenblick und Ewigkeit. 7 See, in particular, some voluminous overviews having used large numbers of sources: Alwin Schultz, Das höfische Leben zur Zeit der Minnesänger, 2nd ed. (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1889; reprint Osnabrück, 1965); Alwin Schultz, Deutsches Leben im XIV. und XV. Jahrhundert, Große Ausgabe (Vienna: F. Tempsky – G. Freytag, 1892) and Alwin Schultz, Das häusliche Leben der europäischen Kulturvölker vom Mittelalter bis zur zweiten Hälfte des XVII. Jahrhunderts (Munich: Oldenbourg, 1903; reprint Osnabruck, 1968); Moriz Heyne, Das deutsche Wohnungswesen von den ältesten Zeiten bis zum 16. Jahrhundert, Fünf Bücher deutscher Hausaltertümer von den ältesten geschichtlichen Zeiten bis zum 16. Jahrhundert, 1 (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1899), Moriz Heyne, Das deutsche Nahrungswesen, Fünf Bücher deutscher Hausaltertümer von den ältesten geschichtlichen Zeiten bis zum 16. Jahrhundert, 2 (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1901), and Moriz Heyne, Körperpflege und Kleidung bei den Deutschen, Fünf Bücher deutscher Hausaltertümer von den ältesten geschichtlichen Zeiten bis zum 16. Jahrhundert, 3 (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1903). For France, see, in particular, Victor Gay, Glossaire archéologique du Moyen Âge et de la Renaissance, 2 vols. (Paris: Librairie de la Société bibliographique, Picard, 1887-1928; reprint Nendeln, 1971); Henry-René d’Allemagne, Les accessoires du costume et du mobilier depuis le treizième jusqu’au milieu du dixneuvième siècle, 3 vols. (Paris: Schemit, 1928; reprint New York, 1970). 8 Gerhard Jaritz (ed.), Norm und Praxis im Alltag des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 2 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1997).

265 Gerhard Jaritz response,9 of perception and realisation, of terminology,10 of symbols and signs,11 of types, stereotypes and topoi, of didactic aims, and so on, are only a few considerations that have to play a major role in today’s research. Sometimes there is still too little occupation with a number of them. Out of the ‘reality’ of the various sources a picturesque ‘reality’ of life may be developed too quickly, one that does not take into account the power of our, that is, historians’ own cultural filters.12

The Necessity of Comparative Approaches

To escape at least some of these difficulties, comparative approaches to analysis have become indispensable. When, for instance, studying sumptuary laws and their influence on society and the life of the members of different late medieval social groups, their information cannot be taken unchecked as a reflection of certain aspects of the material practice of everyday life.13 It is not only necessary to consider

9 Concerning visual sources, cf. Michael Baxandall, Patterns of Intention. On the Historical Explanation of Pictures (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986); David Freedberg, The Power of Images. Studies in the History and Theory of Response (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1989). 10 Terminologie und Typologie mittelalterlicher Sachgüter: das Beispiel der Kleidung, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs, 10 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 511 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1988). 11 See Gertrud Blaschitz et al. (eds.), Symbole des Alltags, Alltag der Symbole. Festschrift Harry Kühnel zum 65. Geburtstag (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1992). 12 For the problem of cultural filters with regard to the description and analysis of images, see, e.g., Baxandall, Patterns of Intention, 105-11. 13 Concerning sumptuary legislation, see, in particular, Neithard Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer und territorialer Kleider-, Aufwands- und Luxusgesetzgebung in Deutschland (13.-Mitte 16. Jahrhundert),” in Renaissance du pouvoir législatif et génèse de l’Ètat, ed. A. Gouron and A. Rigaudière, Publications de la société d’histoire du droit et des institutions des anciens pays de droit écrit, 3 (Montpellier: Société d’histoire du droit, 1988), 29-57; Alan Hunt, Governance of the Consuming Passions: A History of Sumptuary Law (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1996); Catherine Kovesi Killerby, Italian sumptuary legislation, 1200- 1500 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002); Maria Giuseppina Muzzarelli and Antonella Campanini (eds.), Disciplinare il lusso. La legislazione suntuaria in Italia e in

266 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life court evidence for the breaking of such laws,14 but also to consult sources that deal with the material objects and the social groups mentioned in the sumptuary laws in other contexts – as, for example, didactic or narrative texts, and images. There, one may be able to recognise different criteria of perception, explanation, and effect. One may also discover or have confirmed that operating with contrasts played an important role in late medieval life.15 The creation and usage of such (patterns of) contrasts can be seen as a phenomenon that not only influenced norm and didactics, but also the practice of life; just think of the confrontation and polarisation of ‘elite’ and ‘popular’ culture,16 of one’s own and the other,17 of old and new,18 and so on. For all these spheres, a context-bound comparison of the different ‘realities’ of the sources is indispensable; and also a connection of qualitative and quantitative approaches and analyses, particularly when dealing with types, stereotypes or topoi, and their usage.19

Europa tra Medioevo ed Età moderna (Rome: Carocci, 2003). 14 Bulst, “Zum Problem städtischer,” 51-6. Concerning court sources and the history of daily life, see Katharina Simon-Muscheid, “Gerichtsquellen und Alltagsgeschichte,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 30 (1994), 28-43. 15 Gerhard Jaritz (ed.), Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters, Forschungen des Instituts fur Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 5 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000). 16 Still important, Martin Frijhoff, Cultuur, mentaliteit: illusies van elites? (Nijmegen: Socialistiese Uitg., 1984), 30-1, and Peter Burke, “Popular Culture Reconsidered,” in Mensch und Objekt im Mittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit, 181-91. 17 See, e.g., Michael Harbsmeier, “Elementary Structures of Otherness. An Analysis of Sixteenth-century German Travel Accounts,” in Voyager à la Renaissance, J. Ceard and J.-Cl. Margolin (Paris: Editions Maisonneuve et Larose 1987), 337-57; Ruth Mellinkoff, Outcasts: Signs of Otherness in Northern European Art of the Late Middle Ages, 2 vols. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993). 18 See Alltag und Fortschritt im Mittelalter, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs, 8 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 470 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1986). 19 For the comparative utilisation of these methods, the application of computer-supported research seems to be relevant. This is true for the interpretation of texts as well as for the analysis of pictorial source material,

267 Gerhard Jaritz

Moreover, one has to concentrate on different kinds and levels of the ‘simultaneity of the unsimultaneous’ (Gleichzeitigkeit des Ungleichzeitigen) in the sources, in which, for instance, certain objects, persons, situations and qualities may on the one hand seem to represent a clear ‘closeness to everyday life,’ but on the other hand, and simultaneously, are to be seen as symbolic and/or metaphoric references and messages, in the religious as well as in the secular space.20 Such different phenomena and functions of ‘closeness’, and their utilisation as patterns of argumentation can be found regularly, starting from the apparent proximity of the contents of late medieval religious images to everyday life situations, generally,21 to the sometimes complicated visual and literary symbols of the Virgin Mary and her representations, and so on.22

In Search of Patterns

Any aspects of such quotidianity, their perception and evaluation, were strongly connected with, and depended on the public character and role which they played in human life. The degree of public appearance influenced the way and necessity of discussing situations or trying to regulate them. Such public space has to be seen as status-, place-, and situation-dependent. For members of the nobility, burghers or peasants, it had, for instance, another meaning than for monastic communities. For the members of the latter, an area that one might call ‘private space’, often did and should not exist.23 Each action inside the monastery was where digital image analysis has gained more and more importance; see Gerhard Jaritz, “History of Everyday Life in the Middle Ages,” History and Computing 11 (1999), 101-12. 20 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages. Evidence from German-speaking Regions,” Essays in Medieval Studies 18 (2002), 53-66. 21 E.g., Marylin Aronberg Lavin, The Place of Narrative. Mural Decoration in Italian Churches, 431-1600. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994), passim. 22 Anselm Salzer, Die Sinnbilder und Beiworte Mariens in der deutschen Literatur und lateinischen Hymnenpoesie des Mittelalters. Eine literarisch-historische Studie (Linz: Feichtinger, 1893; reprint Darmstadt, 1967). 23 See Gerd Zimmermann, Ordensleben und Lebensstandard. Die cura corporis in den Ordensvorschriften des abendlandischen Hochmittelalters, Beitrage zur Geschichte des alten Mönchtums und des Benediktinerordens, 32 (Münster: Aschendorff, 1973).

268 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life evaluated as though to be seen by everybody in the community, to be public, therefore, and publicly justifiable. Especially in the high medieval monastic rules, we find regulations for how to get into one’s bed, which clothes to wear at night, how to go to the toilet, and so on24 – normative aspects of life that one does not find regulated in secular space. All spheres of everyday life are connected with the phenomena of communication that may reach from the local area to rather ‘international’ contacts and co-operation. Communication itself has to be seen as influencing daily life and also as a part of quotidianity. Manifold mutual interests, influences, adoptions, and interdependences existed.25 Many connections lead from the ‘daily’ to the ‘non-daily,’ ‘and vice versa’.26 In addition, an important number of connections between everyday life and politics, religion, economy, the arts and sciences, and so on, should be recognised and have to be analysed. When one is interested in late medieval daily life, its routine, its repetitiveness and habitus, one must concentrate on tracing and studying the patterns that the source evidence may contain. Their appearance, and their role and meaning in particular, depended on aspects of any kind of social order, of space, of intended messages, of the languages of signs, and so on. Historians’ ‘quasi knowledge’ about any individual situation, object, action, or quality alone must be seen as meaningless. Their significance may only be seen if one also becomes aware of and acquainted with contemporary medieval classifications, evaluations, or connotations, and the differences and contrasts in context; and if one is able to integrate them into one’s construction of results. One has to recognise the fact that there were regularly different levels and patterns

24 Zimmermann, Ordensleben und Lebensstandard, 120-2, 140-3, 409-13, 448-52. 25 See Kommunikation und Alltag in Spätmittelalter und früher Neuzeit, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, 15 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 596 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1992); Kommunikation zwischen Orient und Okzident. Alltag und Sachkultur (Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, 16 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 619 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1994). 26 See, generally, still Elias, “Zum Begriff des Alltags,” 25-9.

269 Gerhard Jaritz of meaning which might have operated simultaneously or supplemented each other.27 For this reason, they may also have led to different (ways of) reception and perception. Context-bound ‘daily life’-patterns can be found through the analysis of many source corpora. With the help of last wills, for instance, one comes across the important, mainly socially dependent, value structures, functions, and esteemed qualities of material objects like dress, vessels, jewellery, weapons, books, beds, and so on.28 Similar results can also be obtained through the qualitative and quantitative analysis of the contents of account books.29 They may range from the type of objects mentioned, their value, need, and context, to certain aspects of esteem and quality. The analysis of such criteria always has to take place in a comparative framework. The various patterns of any ‘realities of the sources’ should not only be seen individually but comparatively, referring to their varying contextualities. Literary sources also offer a great deal of information about aspects of medieval quotidianity and mentality, much more than the stories about the daily life of the figures mentioned in the text.30 One

27 Cf., e.g., Ehrenfried Kluckert, Die Erzählformen des spätmittelalterlichen Simultanbildes (Tübingen: Universität, Fachbereich Altertums- und Kulturwissenschaften, Phil. Diss., 1974). 28 See, e.g., Paul Baur, Testament und Bürgerschaft. Alltagsleben und Sachkultur im spätmittelalterlichen Konstanz, Konstanzer Geschichts- und Rechtsquellen 31 (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1989). 29 See Ulf Dirlmeier, “Alltag, materielle Kultur, Lebensgewohnheiten im Spiegel spätmittelalterlicher und frühneuzeitlicher Abrechnungen,” in Mensch und Objekt im Mittelalter, 157-80. 30 Concerning the role of literary sources for the history of daily life, see, e.g., Helga Schüppert, “Spätmittelalterliche Didaktik als Quelle für adeliges Alltagsleben?,” in Adelige Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 5 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 400 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1982), 215-57; Helga Schüppert, “Der Bauer in der deutschen Literatur des Spätmittelalters – Topik und Realitätsbezug,” in Bäuerliche Sachkultur des Spätmittelalters, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 7 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 439 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1984), 125-76, and Helga Schüppert, “Frauenbild und Frauenalltag in der Predigtliteratur,” in Frau und spätmittelalterlicher Alltag,

270 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life has to emphasise for historical as well as for literary sources that the ‘real fiction’ and the ‘fictitious reality’ of the varied evidence from the past does not mean loss of information but, through their analysis, may be seen as an enrichment.31 The recognition and comparison of late medieval patterns of daily life may also lead to various results of the distinct meanings, functions, values, and legitimacy of objects concerning their owners and users, and their role and position in the social and the socio-economic system. This may also offer clearer results in those cases in which specific objects had a highly esteemed and positive connotation for one or more social groups, while for others, however, they might have represented paradigms of vanity to be evaluated in a strictly negative way. This seems to have been true, in particular, for things that were expensive, new, and fashionable.32

What the Patterns Reveal

Similar results can be attained when comparing the patterns of norm and patterns of practice in the study of daily life. One of the main outcomes of such analyses has been the conclusion that one cannot generalise concerning the acceptance or rejection of the manifold laws meant to influence certain, mainly public, aspects of daily life. In this context, one has to emphasise again that ‘public’ and ‘private’ must be seen as relative terms and definitions, with distinct meanings for everyday life in the late Middle Ages.33 There, and also regarding the aforementioned acceptance

Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für mittelalterliche Realienkunde Österreichs 9 / Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sitzungsberichte der philosophisch-historischen Klasse, 473 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1986), 103-56. 31 See Katharina Simon-Muscheid and Christian Simon “Zur Lektüre von Gerichtstexten: Fiktionale Realität oder Alltag in Gerichtsquellen?,” in Arbeit – Liebe – Streit. Texte zur Geschichte des Geschlechterverhältnisses und des Alltags, 15. bis 18. Jahrhundert, ed. Dorothee Rippmann et al. (Basel: Verlag des Kantons Basel- Landschaft, 1996), 19. 32 Cf. Alltag und Fortschritt im Mittelalter, passim; Jaritz (ed.), Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters, passim. 33 See Michel Hebert, Vie privée et ordre public à la fin du Moyen Âge (Aix-en- Provence: Université de Provence, 1987); Bernard Vincent, “Le public et espace privé dans les villes andalouses (XVe-XVIe siècles),” in D’une ville à l'autre:

271 Gerhard Jaritz and rejection of norms, we are regularly confronted with various types and aspects of compromises – compromises sometimes well-defined through rather obvious profit and loss accounting. One finds different variants of socially, economically or religiously determined connotations and evaluations in all types of sources. They are based on comparison, on constructed differences and opposition, and on the consciousness of varieties of meanings. Old and young, rich and poor, small and large, close and distant, high and low, up and down, left and right, much and little, clean and dirty, male and female, and so on, all of them are regularly used pairs of difference or opposition that mediated contents and messages in the process of their context-bound reading. Arguments made with them and their use regularly occurred in late medieval daily life-situations and their constructions. A kind of ‘neutral’ daily life does not exist in our sources. The material aspects of everyday life may provide some examples. There are the many instances of patterns of the good and beautiful in the broadest sense of the word versus the bad and the ugly – always to be seen in their manifold levels of adequacy.34 In an urban context these might have been connected with a rather high number of innovations and improvements: with window glass, with roof-tiles, with the paving of roads, with mechanical clocks, and so on.35 They increased the standard of living, security, and prestige. Particularly in the first and most attention-attracting phase of their installation and application, they also structures matérielles et organisation de espace dans les villes européennes (XIIIe-XVIe siècle), Collection de l’École française de Rome 122, ed. J.-Cl. Maire Vigueur (Rome: École française de Rome, 1989), 711-24; David Austin, “Private and Public: An Archaeological Consideration of Things,” in Die Vielfalt der Dinge. Neue Wege zur Analyse mittelalterlicher Sachkultur, ed. Helmut Hundsbichler et al., Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 3 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1998), 163-206. 34 Gerhard Jaritz, “Das Bild des ‘Negativen’ als Visualisierung der Übertretung von Ordnungen im Spätmittelalter,” Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1993), 205-13. 35 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Das Image der spätmittelalterlichen Stadt. Zur Konstruktion und Vermittlung ihres äußeren Erscheinungsbildes,” in Die Stadt als Kommunikationsraum. Beiträge zur Stadtgeschichte vom Mittelalter bis ins 20. Jahrhundert. Festschrift für Karl Czok zum 75. Geburtstag, ed. H. Brauer and E. Schlenkrich (Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag, 2001), 471-85.

272 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life seem to have played an important role in a number of other contexts. One used such positively evaluated objects – signs of (one’s own) material success – to mediate other, immaterial messages: of the purity of the Virgin, the learnedness of a saint, or the buon governo in a community.36 Parts of already existing or just developing ideals of material culture became – in new or other contexts – explanatory signs for positive, often immaterial and spiritual, aspects of ‘daily life’. And the opposites may have been used for visualising negative aspects. One was confronted with context-bound patterns of the positive ideal versus patterns of negative deviation, from the social order or from material possibilities of the communities or from other phenomena that were seen as generally relevant for communal life. Without taking into consideration all the connections, contexts, and networks, ambiguities might occur that make any interpretation difficult or impossible. An example concerning late medieval dress, its visual representations,37 and the ‘ambiguity of their language’ may be used to demonstrate the problems.

Visual Representations of Dress

Medieval pieces of dress and their depictions received meanings and connotations in context with the status, position, and function of their wearers, with occasions and actions at which they were used, with the type of representation in which they were utilised. Without the existence and recognition of these contexts, they could be meaningless or bear

36 Concerning the ‘buon governo’ patterns, see Florens Deuchler, “Warum malte Konrad Witz die ‘erste Landschaft’? Hic et nunc im Genfer Altar von 1444,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 3 (1984), 39-49; Bram Kempers, “Gesetz und Kunst. Ambrogio Lorenzettis Fresken im Palazzo Pubblico in Siena,” in Malerei und Stadtkultur in der Dantezeit. Die Argumentation der Bilder, ed. H. Belting and D. Blume (Munich: Hirmer, 1989), 71-84. See also Lucas Burkart, Die Stadt der Bilder. Familiale und kommunale Bildinvestition im spätmittelalterlichen Verona (Munich: Fink, 2000). 37 Concerning the role of visual images for the history of medieval daily life, see Keith Moxey, “Reading the “Reality Effect”,” in Pictura quasi fictura. Die Rolle des Bildes in der Sachkultur des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Gerhard Jaritz, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien, 1 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), 15-22.

273 Gerhard Jaritz ambiguous connotations. One has to be aware of the fact that the same piece of dress may have created a positive image of its wearer in one case, while in another, with regard to a person of different status and function or concerning another action, it may have aroused negative connotations and messages. Without knowing the contexts, medieval people might have been at a loss to identify the message(s) just as today’s analysing historians are.38 We are confronted with such a phenomenon, in particular, when studying costume in pictorial and written sources of the late Middle Ages, and with regard to the variety of representations in which dress occurs in the evidence of this period. It is indispensable here to consider the different existing ‘languages of dress’ and their ‘dialects’39 when analysing the meanings and messages that the outer appearance and costume of people were to carry. Especially patterns and contrasts played a decisive role in using and understanding dress as an object of classification, connotation, and perception of oneself and ‘others’.

38 One fifteenth-century example comes from the German town of Wismar, where it was prohibited for maidservants to wear trimmings on their dresses. In their function as controllers, the executioner and his servants were urged to cut them off if trespasses were found. However, this could not be upheld for long. It happened that the trimmings were cut off the dress of maniges amtmanns erber kind (honorable daughters of various officials), but were not touched in the case of two actual maidservants. The correct contextualisation had not worked, as the necessary knowledge and recognition did not exist. Liselotte-Constanze Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen der deutschen Städte zwischen 1350 und 1700, Göttinger Bausteine zur Geschichtswissenschaft, 32 (Göttingen: Musterschmidt, 1962), 47. Concerning the context-bound role and function of visual representations of medieval costume and dress, see, e.g., Andrea-Martina Reichel, Die Kleider der Passion. Für eine Ikonographie des Kostüms, Berlin (unpublished Phil. Diss. from the Humboldt-Universität, available at https://edoc.hu-berlin.de/handle/18452/15091 (last access September 20, 2019). 39 Cf. Gerhard Jaritz, “Social Grouping and the Languages of Dress in the Late Middle Ages,” The Medieval History Journal 3/2 (2000), 235-59.

274 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life

Fig. 16.1. The pointed shoes of a sorcerer who meets St Martin The temptation of St Martin by the disguised devil (detail), panel painting of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, before 1500 (Göflan/Covelano, South Tyrol, St Martin parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 16.2. The pointed shoes of Emperor Frederick III Emperor Frederick III in the Wappenbuch (detail, fol. 23v), Tyrolean master (?), pen and ink drawing on paper, last quarter of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. n. 12820, fol. 23v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

275 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 16.3. The pointed shoes of a standard bearer The inauguration ceremony of the first grandmaster of the order of knights of St George (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Originally in Millstatt, presently: Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 16.4. The pointed shoes of a tormentor of St Vitus The oven martyrdom of St Vitus (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, 1470/1480 (Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 26a; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

276 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life

Fig. 16.5. The striped dress of Malchus The Imprisonment of Christ (detail), master of Pulkau, Danube school, panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, around 1520 (Pulkau, Lower Austria, Holy Blood filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

To recognise such others by their outer appearance and to be recognised correctly oneself was generally an important domain of medieval life and order. Conventions and norms influenced outer appearance and its evaluation crucially. One has only to think of the wide range of sumptuary laws that were intended to regulate many spheres of human activities and material culture. They had an important standing in late medieval society, and concentrated on explicit and detailed norms to control human display: to show order, to make the relevance of social grouping and hierarchy visible, to reduce expenditure, and to point out morals. In them, dress regulations often played the most important role.40

40 See, e.g., Eisenbart, Kleiderordnungen der deutschen Städte zwischen 1350 und 1700; Veronika Bauer, Kleiderordnungen in Bayern vom 14. bis zum 19. Jahrhundert, Miscellanea Bavarica Monacensia, 62 (Munich: Misc. bav. Mon., 1975); Jutta Zander-Seidel, “Kleidergesetzgebung und städtische Ordnung. Inhalte, Uberwachung und Akzeptanz frühneuzeitlicher Kleiderordnungen,” Anzeiger des Germanischen Nationalmuseums (1993), 176-88; Gerhard Jaritz, “Kleidung und Prestige-Konkurrenz. Unterschiedliche Identitäten in der städtischen Gesellschaft unter Normierungszwängen,” in Zwischen Sein und Schein. Kleidung

277 Gerhard Jaritz

Fig. 16.6. The striped dress of a tormentor of St Stephen The stoning of St Stephen on the so-called Genselaltar (detail), panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1500–1520 (Krenstetten, Lower Austria, Virgin Mary parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

The pieces or patterns of clothing that became the main objects of discourse were connected with fashion, with value and prestige, with the extraordinary, or with novelty. They attracted attention and could, therefore, be used as particular signs and distinguishing marks. In some cases they were used as negative representations and signifiers of various kinds of illegitimate rank and behaviour, their utilisation to be socially regulated, forbidden or controlled. They were seen as ostentatious marks of superbia, to be criticised, condemned, or burnt.41 In other cases, they und Identität in der ständischen Gesellschaft, ed. N. Bulst and R. Jütte, Saeculum, 44 (Freiburg: Alber, 1993), 8-31; Neithard Bulst, “Kleidung als sozialer Konfliktstoff. Probleme kleidergesetzlicher Normierung im sozialen Gefüge,” in Zwischen Sein und Schein, 32-46; Muzzarelli and Campanini (eds.), Disciplinare il lusso. 41 One may think of the fifteenth-century preachers against the vanities and their success concerning matters of dress, e.g., Saint John Capistran’s sermon in the Cathedral Square at Bamberg and the following Burning of the Vanities in 1452, which was depicted on a panel painting of c. 1470. See Hubert Ruß (ed.), Der Bußprediger Capestrano auf dem Domplatz in Bamberg. Eine Bamberger Tafel um

278 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life could serve as positively meant, extraordinary material characteristics of upper-class social membership that was not touched by any sumptuary regulation. Such objects were, for instance, horn-shaped female headdresses,42 long trains, pointed shoes, many types of furs, precious metal applications, and so on. Only knowledge of the contexts in question can offer information on their significance, connotation, and categorisation. Pointed shoes may be seen as one of the most discussed and most controversial pieces of dress in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.43 Written normative, didactic, and narrative sources show a clear concentration of heavy criticism and condemnation, particularly in urban space, based on the deadly sin of superbia. The visual evidence followed this direction regularly; at the same time, it also represented contrast by using the pointed shoes as a specific legitimate and necessary mark of distinction worn by upper class members of society: mainly noblemen and also their servants, to show the high status and the extraordinary position that they represented. The meaning of the object ‘pointed shoe’ could therefore be, at least twofold. The compilation of the Austrian depictions of four examples of fifteenth-century pointed shoes (Fig. 16.1 – Fig. 16.4) out of context proves the impossibility of finding out what they represented: the positive signs of members of the late medieval upper classes, or the negative characteristics of villains, torturers, and other social undesirables. Without the contextualisations we are helpless; we do not know whose shoes they were and what they meant. Only when seeing or being told, may we understand. This example shows the negatively characterising pointed shoe of the sorcerer (that is, the devil) who tried to seduce Saint Martin (Fig. 16.1), another highly positive worn by Emperor Frederick III (Fig. 16.2), the third by a standard-bearer on the occasion of the institution of the First Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of Saint George (Fig. 16.3), and the last pointed shoe is the

1470/75. Begleitschrift zur Ausstellung, Schriften des Historischen Museums Bamberg 12 (Bamberg: Historisches Museum Bamberg, 1989). 42 See, e.g., Reichel, Die Kleider der Passion, 271-4. 43 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Schnabelschuh und Hörnerhaube, oder: Bild, Sachkultur und Kontextualisierung,” in 8. Österreichischer Kunsthistorikertag. Vergangenheit in der Gegenwart – Gegenwart in der Kunstgeschichte?, Kunsthistoriker 11/12 (Vienna: Österreichischer Kunsthistorikerverband, 1994/95), 8-12 and Jaritz, “Ira Dei, Material Culture, and Behavior in the Late Middle Ages.”

279 Gerhard Jaritz footwear of a tormentor of Saint Vitus (Fig. 16.4). The shoes differ in the meaning of their sign character. In the right context, they can be seen as representatives and signifiers of the heavily negative connotation of the persons who wear them. As they were a clear negative mark of superbia for all people who did not represent the uppercases of society, they fit well for any bad figures in visual and textual material as, for instance, the enemies of saints and the Christian faith. On the other hand, they could also function as legitimate material signs of exceptionality for the members of the upper classes or from their direct environment. It was ‘necessary’ to depict Emperor Frederick III as wearing them, in the same way as the servant who bore the standard at the occasion of an important festive meeting of the members of the uppermost strata of society, like the Emperor and the Pope. Only the context of the representation counted and should lead to the understanding of the positive or negative role and significance of specific material objects. Such a phenomenon is also true for the colourful striped dress that Michel Pastoureau dealt with, the ‘devil’s cloth’, for which he showed its general negative characteristics and significance, not least in the visual source evidence of the late Middle Ages.44 One finds it, for instance, as a clear sign for negative figures in the Passion of Christ (Fig. 16.5) or for the torturers of various saints (Fig. 16.6). It also should be clear, however, that the same object, but with a contrasting meaning, had to occur in other contexts, with the distinction going in the direction of upper class significance. If one for instance, goes back to the representation of the institution of the First Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of Saint George that had taken place in 1469 and was depicted in c. 1500, not only the standard-bearer with his pointed shoes wore such striped cloth (Fig. 16.7), but also a number of noblemen who attended the ceremony (Fig. 16.8). One is confronted with the portrayals of explicitly positive figures of distinction, for whom these types of dress a cloth were legitimately used to show their extraordinary position as members of the upper classes of society or as their servants. One could offer a large number of other examples – concerning doublets, hose, codpieces, the décolletage of females, the lengths of female and male clothes, and so on. In each case one may find a similar

44 Michel Pastoureau, The Devil’s Cloth: A History of Stripes and Striped Fabric (New York: Columbia University Press, 2001).

280 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life situation of representation: the utilisation of special or extraordinary pieces of dress to characterise and to make recognisable specific negative persons and, in another context, the same pieces used as material objects to identify and to signify positive figures of distinction and high social status.

Conclusion

Similar situations may be found when taking people as the initial ‘material’ basis of analysis: for instance, peasants as the objects of discourse. Members of the rural population were portrayed in texts and pictures as positive models and examples. Their visual and textual representations were to show the ideal peasant’s life and work, as the basis and support of medieval society. In other functional contexts, other peasants entered the stage: the negative ones. They could be represented as doing the wrong work; or they could wear the wrong clothes, such as fashionable doublets, hoses and pointed shoes, and have the long curly hair that was normally significant for young upper-class persons.45 Something must have been wrong; one made fun of the objects ‘peasant’ that had unfittingly tried to leave their social status.46 At the same time, this could become a warning for everybody not to behave in a similar way. Again, any research into medieval daily life and material culture has to be done in awareness of the context of representation. Without it, the individual bits and pieces may be ambiguous or completely meaningless, the feasibility of understanding the language of objects and signs correctly would be lost.47 The ‘ambiguities’ put into the right context offered

45 See Gerhard Jaritz, “Young, Rich, and Beautiful. The Visualization of Male Beauty in the Late Middle Ages,” in The Man of Many Devices, Who Wandered Full Many Ways. Festschrift in Honor of János M. Bak, ed. Balázs Nagy and Marcell Sebők (Budapest: CEU Press, 2001), 63. 46 See, e.g., Schüppert, “Der Bauer in der deutschen Literatur des Spätmittelalters – Topik und Realitätsbezug;” Hans-Joachim Raupp, Bauernsatiren: Entstehung und Entwicklung des bäuerlichen Genres in der deutschen und niederländischen Kunst, ca. 1470- 1570 (Niederzier: Lukassen Verlag, 1986); Keith Moxey, Peasants, Warriors and Wives: Popular Imagery in the Reformation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 35-66; Gerhard Jaritz, “The Material Culture of the Peasantry in the Late Middle Ages: ‘Image’ and ‘Reality’,” in Agriculture in the Middle Ages. Technology, Practice, and Representation, ed. Del Sweeney (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995), 163-88. 47 Concerning the sign language of dress in literary sources, see, in particular,

281 Gerhard Jaritz possibilities for late medieval ‘participants’ to identify and understand, and also to ‘construct’ material culture and people better. The same has to be true for today’s ‘observers,’ that is, the historians of everyday life.

Fig. 16.7. The striped dress of a standard bearer The inauguration ceremony of the first grandmaster of the order of knights of St George (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Originally in Millstatt, presently: Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Gabriele Raudszus, Die Zeichensprache der Kleidung. Untersuchungen zur Symbolik des Gewandes in der deutschen Epik des Mittelalters, Ordo. Studien zur Literatur und Gesellschaft des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit, 1 (Hildesheim: Olms, 1985).

282 The History of Late Medieval Everyday Life

Fig. 16.8. The striped dress of a nobleman The inauguration ceremony of the first grandmaster of the order of knights of St George (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Originally in Millstatt, presently: Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

To summarise: The history of late medieval daily life nowadays represents an integrated and indispensable part of social history, of cultural history, and of the history of mentalities.48 It no longer concentrates on the usage of picturesque details out of, for instance, urban sumptuary laws, ‘realistic’ late Gothic images, or individual pieces of archaeological evidence. It focuses on patterns, on habitus, routine and the repetitive, and systematic comparison based on them. It tries to connect the material aspects of life with the immaterial ones. In this way, the history of late medieval daily life no longer represents a curiosity

48 See Hans-Werner Goetz, “Einführung. Mediävistische Kulturwissenschaft als Herausforderung und Aufgabe,” Das Mittelalter. Zeitschrift des Mediävistenverbandes 5 (2000), 5.

283 Gerhard Jaritz cabinet, as everyday-life studies have been generally seen by a number of ‘traditional’ historians. The danger of the ‘rhétorique de la curiosité,’ as Jean-Marie Pesez called it in the specific context of the history of material culture more than twenty years ago, has decreased.49 The history of daily life in the Middle Ages has become a field of research interested in the interdependence between humans, objects, environment, and space in the context of micro- and macro-levels, and in the course of historical processes and developments.50

49 Jean-Marie Pesez, “Histoire de culture matérielle,” in La nouvelle histoire, ed. Jacques Le Goff (Paris: Retz, 1978.), 130. 50 See Romeikat, “Hat die Alltagsgeschichte Zukunft?,” 313.

284

- 17 -

The Bread-Knife*

The length of a knife’s blade can play a rather important role in the daily life of a society. This is, for instance, true for the present United States. There, in addition to counties, cities, and townships, each of the 50 states has a knife law. There are books and websites “for the law-abiding traveller”1 or for “knife enthusiasts and those who carry knives on a regular (or not-so-regular) basis.”2 Blade length restrictions from three inches to six inches and more play an important role; switchblades and gravity knives are regularly prohibited. In late medieval and early modern society, particular emphasis and differentiation applied to the classification of the knife, on the one hand, as a weapon or, on the other hand, as an instrument with a small blade to be used for eating, especially for cutting bread. In secular society, the right to carry a knife with a blade longer than a bread-knife, that is, a weapon, was seen as connected with the freedom of the person and, thus, also judged as a sign of male honour.3 Sometimes one finds court decisions prohibiting carrying a knife with the exception of a small (bread-)knife. Let me give three examples: in the

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “The Bread-Knife,” in Violence and the Medieval Clergy, ed. Gerhard Jaritz, Ana Marinković (Budapest: CEU Press, 2011), 55-66. 1 E.g., David Wong, Knife Laws of the Fifty States. A Guide for the Law-Abiding Traveler (Bloomington: AuthorHouse, 2006). 2 http://www.knifelawsonline.com/knifehome (last access December 7, 2010). 3 Katharina Simon Muscheid, “Der Umgang mit Alkohol: Männliche Soziabilität und weibliche Tugend,” in Kontraste im Alltag des Mittelalters, ed. Gerhard Jaritz, Forschungen des Instituts für Realienkunde des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit. Diskussionen und Materialien 5 (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2000), 58; Hans Fehr, “Das Waffenrecht der Bauern im Mittelalter,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung für Rechtsgeschichte, Germanistische Abteilung 35 (1914), 127-8.

Gerhard Jaritz

1460s the Augsburg master builder Ulrich Tendrich stole from the township. He was caught in 1462 and punished in the following way:

 He lost his job as a master builder;  He was no longer allowed to wear clothing incorporating marten, silk, or velvet and also forbidden to use any gold or silver appliqués.  He was no longer allowed to carry a knife with him except for a small bread-knife.4

In the sixteenth century, and particularly in the German Reformation environment, one regularly finds a ban on frequenting taverns (Wirtshausverbot) as a punishment, often tightened with a prohibition of carrying a knife. Only a dull or broken bread-knife was allowed.5 In 1525, during the Peasant Wars, the peasants of Hain near Schweinfurt in Lower Franconia, Germany, had to deliver all their weapons and were forbidden to carry them for the rest of their lives, except for bread-knives.6 As early as the General Peace for Bavaria of 1244 peasants were only allowed to carry short knives on week-days.7 The bread-knife played a particular role in sixteenth-century discourse concerning Anabaptists, who espoused non-violence. The Reformation chronicler, Johannes Kessler from Sankt Gallen, who always showed his critical position towards the Swiss Anabaptists, described them in his Sabbata (1523-1539) as catrying only short bread-knives and no arms, neither swords nor epées, the latter two being for them the clothes of

4 “Chronik des Burkhard Zink,” in Die Chroniken der schwäbischen Städte: Augsburg 2, Die Chroniken der deutschen Städte vom 14. bis 16. Jahrhundert 5 (Leipzig, 1866; reprint Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1965), 283-4. Concerning urban laws in Germany determining the allowed length of knives, see Georg Liebe, “Das Recht des Waffentragens in Deutschland,” Zeitschrift für Historische Waffenkunde 2 (1900/02), 341. 5 See Simon Muscheid, “Der Umgang mit Alkohol,” 58. 6 Stephan Ankenbrand and Karl Stolz, Heimatbuch Oberwerm (Schweinfurt, 1959; reprint Dettelbach: J. H. Röll Verlag, 2006), 31-2. Concerning peasants and their right to carry arms see Fehr, “Das Waffenrecht,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung für Rechtsgeschichte, Germanistische Abteilung 35 (1914), 111-211, and 38 (1917), 1-114. 7 Fehr, “Das Waffenrecht,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stifiung für Rechtsgeschichte, Germanistische Abteilung 38 (1917), 31.

286 The Bread-Knife wolves which should not be worn by sheep.8 In his polemics against the Anabaptists, Heinrich Bullinger emphasized in 1560 that Christ did not prohibit carrying arms, as one could kill with one’s belt or bread-knife equally way as with one’s sword.9 In contrast, the Hutterite Peter Rideman stressed, in his Rechenschaft unserer Religion, Lehr und Glauben, von den Brüdern, so man die Hutterischen nennt (1565), that Christians should not produce swords, spears, or rifles, and so on. However, bread-knives, axes, and hoes should be made as they were necessary for daily use. One certainly might harm other people with these objects, but they were not produced to do harm. If someone still used them in a harmful way, then it was not the Anabaptists’ fault but the individual’s responsibility.10 Clerics also owned bread-knives, which were not seen as weapons but as necessary objects of daily use. In connection with cases of violence one mainly comes across knives when clerics used them to defend themselves. In this context, one also finds the bread-knife in the registers of the Apostolic Penitentiary as part of a kind of pattern of excuse in the context of using it like a weapon, mostly for any necessary defence of oneself or the protection of others. On the one hand, one followed thereby the explicit prohibition of weapons for clerics as is stated, for instance, in the Decretalia of Pope Gregory IX (c. 1160-1241): Clerici arma portantes et usurarii excommunicentur.11 Mentioning the bread-knife or a knife

8 Clarence Bauman, Gewaltlosigkeit im Täufertum. Eine Untersuchung zur theologischen Ethike des oberdeutschen Täufertums der Reformationszeit, Stadies in the History of Christian Thought III (Leiden: Brill, 1968), 45. 9 Ibidem, 55, based on Heinrich Bullinger, Der Widertäuffern ursprung... (Zürich, 1560). 10 Ibidem, 71, note 2: “Weil nun die Christen solche Rach nit brauchen und üben sollen, so müssen sie auch den Zeug, damit solche Rach und Verderbung durch andere mag gebrauchet warden, nit machen, auf daß sie nit fremder Sünden teilhaftig werden. Darumb wir weder Schwert, Spieß, Büchsen noch dergleichen Wehre oder Waffen machen. Was aber zu Nutz und täglichem Brauch der Menschen gemachet wird, als Brotmesser, Äxte, Hauen und dergleichen mögen wir wohl machen und tuen es auch. Wenn man den gleich sagen sollt, es möge damit auch wohl einer den andern beschädigen und erwürgen, so wird es aber doch nit umb des Würgens und Beschädigens willen gemachet, darumb es uns zu machen nicht hindert. Will es aber je einer zu beschädigen brauchen, das ist ohn unsere Schuld, darumb trage er sein Urteil.” 11 Decretalium Gregori papae IX compilationis liber III, titulus I, capitulum II. See Emil Friedberg (ed.), Corpus Iuris Canonici 11, Decretalium Collectiones (Leipzig, 1881,

287 Gerhard Jaritz used at the table, or just a small knife, in a petition to the papal curia was meant to serve as proof that the cleric did not carry and use a weapon, but just had an object with him that he needed, like everyone else, as an indispensable instrument for eating and which was not classified as a weapon. On the other hand, self-defence was permitted in an exceptional situation: vim vi repellendo et se defendendo.12 This was connected with not wanting to hurt anyone seriously or kill someone. Only a little number of bread-knife cases or, more generally, small knife cases, in which clerical supplicants to the papal curia were involved are mentioned in the registers of the penitentiary. For my analysis I chose source material from the German-speaking areas published to date in the seven volumes of the Repertorium Poenitentiariae Germanicum, which contain the register entries from 1431 to 1492.13 Most of the cases can be found in the De declaratoriis group, with a few in the De diversis formis group.14 I traced and analysed sixty-seven cases. This rather low number still follows an interesting trend. From 1431 to 1464, more than thirty years,

reprint Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1959), col. 445. See also Andrzej Kakareko, La riforma della vita del clero nella diocesi di Vilna dopo il Concilio di Trento (1564-1796) (Rome: Editrice Pontificia Università Gregoriana, 1996), 15. 12 E.g., Clementinae liber V, titulus IV, capitulum I: De homicidio voluntario vel casuali; Si furiosus, aut infans seu dormiens hominem mutilet vel occidat: nullam ex hox irregularitatem incurrit. Et idem de illo censemus, qui, mortem aliter vitare non valens, suum occidit vel mutilet invasorem (Friedberg (ed.), Corpus Iuris Canonici II, Decretalium Collectiones, col. 1184). See also Kirsi Salonen, “Introduction,” in Auctoritate Papae. The Church Province of Uppsala and the Apostolic Penitentiary 1410-1526, ed. Claes Gejrot (Stockholm: National Archives of Sweden, 2008), 46; Kakareko, La riforma della vita, 15. 13 Ludwig Schmugge et al. (ed.), Repertorium Poenitentiariae Germanicum. Verzeichnis der in den Supplikenregistern der Pönitentiarie vorkommenden Personen, Kirchen und Orte des Deutschen Reiches I (1431-1447, Eugene IV), II (1447-1455; Nicholas V), III (1455-1458; Calixtus III), IV (1458-1464; Pius II), V (1464-1471; Paul II), VI (1471-1484; Sixtus IV), VII (1484-1492; Innocent VIII) (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1996-2008) (henceforth: RPG). 14 Concerning the De declaratoriis- and the De diversis formis-cases see, generally, RPG IV, xxv-xxviii; Salonen, “Introduction,” 42-51 and 18-41, especially 45-6; Kirsi Salonen and Ludwig Schmugge, A Sip from the ‘Well of Grace.’ Medieval Tests from the Apostolic Penitentiary (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2009), 28-56.

288 The Bread-Knife such small knives only appear nine times in the context of clerical violence, but there were thirty cases in the twenty years between 1464 and 1484, and twenty-eight cases in the eight years between 1484 and 1492. Four entries were made during the papacy of Eugene IV,15 one case under Nicholas V,16 two cases under Calixtus II,17 and two under Pius II.18 During the papacy of Paul II (1464-1471, eleven cases19) and under Sixtus IV (1471-1484; nineteen cases20) and Innocent VIII (1484- 1492; twenty-eight cases21) they account for more than 5% of all the De declaratoriis entries. This cannot be seen as clear proof that clerics had become more violent or, at least, were forced to defend themselves more often. It seems that in the later period the excuse of defending oneself with a weapon-like object that was not classified as a weapon had developed, perhaps more frequently seen as a good excuse for clerics in cases of having killed or seriously injured an opponent. The petitions came from many different areas. The supplicants of the sixty-seven cases noted above originated from thirty different dioceses in the German-speaking regions. Thirteen times there is just a single supplicant from a particular diocese, in nine cases it is two clerics from a diocese, and in three cases there are three petitions. There are four supplications each from Mainz and Salzburg, and six from Liége. Only one area was an exception: the diocese of Utrecht, from where thirteen

15 RPG I, n. 212 (1439), n. 635 (1441), n. 648 (1441), n. 688 (1441). 16 RPG II, n. 877 (1451). 17 RPG III, n. 77 (1455), n. 213 (1456). 18 RPG IV, n. 1267 (1460), n. 1804 (1461). 19 RPG V, n. 2035 (1467), n. 2050 (1467), n. 2075 (1468), n. 2082 (1468), n. 2084 (1468), n. 2108 (1469), n. 2118 (1469), n. 2125 (1469), n. 2177 (1471), n. 2183 (1471), n. 2192 (1471). 20 RPG VI, n. 3436 (1471), n. 3442 (1471), n. 3451 (1472), n. 3458 (1472), n. 3514 (1474), n. 3525 (1474), n. 3530 (1475), n. 3535 (1471), n. 3577 (1475), n. 3609 (1477), n. 3625 (1477), n. 3631 (1477), n. 3670 (1479), n. 3702 (1480), n. 3723 (1481), n. 3727 (1481), n. 3774 (1482), n. 3804 (1484), n. 3810 (1484). 21 RPG VII, n. 1495 (1484), n. 1630 (1485), n. 1685 (1486), n. 1706 (1486), n. 1708 (1486), n. 1713 (1486), n. 1895 (1487), n. 2173 (1490), n. 2253 (1490), n. 2452 (1484), n. 2459 (1485), n. 2472 (1485), n. 2474 (1485), n. 2500 (1486), n. 2503 (1486), n. 2508 (1486), n. 2565 (1488), n. 2575 (1488), n. 2581 (1489), n. 2583 (1489), n. 2592 (1489), n. 2607 (1490), n. 2619 (1490), n. 2631 (1491), n. 2636 (1491), n. 2641 (1491), n. 2646 (1492), n. 2657 (1492).

289 Gerhard Jaritz petitions originated. This is an important difference for which, at least at the moment, no conclusive reason can be given. Indeed, it can be shown that the diocese of Utrecht, together with the dioceses of Liége, Mainz, Constance, and Cologne, generally represented the highest numbers of supplicants from the German-speaking areas to the Apostolic Penitentiary in the period between 1431 and 1492. However, the cases of violence in involving short (bread-) knives show another distribution and emphasis. There are only two cases each from Constance and Cologne, four from Mainz, six supplications dealing with violence and the use of a short knife from Liége, but thirteen from Utrecht. Could the Utrecht pattern have had regional reasons in the context of the probable successes of such supplications? How is the object with which the clerics defended themselves called in the Registers? It had to be emphasised in the supplications that the knife was not a weapon. Therefore, it could be

 parvus cultellus suus, cum quo panes scindere usus fuit;22  quidam parvus cultellus, cum quo panem scindere solebat,23  parvus cultellus, quem sibi ad panem scindendum adaptaverat,24  gladius (cultellus), quem ipse ad scindendum panem secum deferebat,25  quidam parvus cultellus, quem pro usu panis deferebat, 26  parvus cultellus, quem sibi ad panem scindendum adaptaverat,27  quidam parvus cultellus, quem ad scindendum panis pro suo usu gestabat,28  quidam parvus cultellus ad scindendum panem, cuius acies aliqualiter rupta fuit,29  quidam parvus cultellus cum quo comedere solebat;30  quidam parvus cultellus, quo in prandio uti solebat,31

22 RPG I, n. 212 (1439). 23 RPG I, n. 688 (1441); RPG V, n. 2082 (1468); RPG VII, n. 2503 (1486). 24 RPG V, n. 2075 (1468). 25 PRG V, n. 2084 (1468); RPG VI, n. 3727 (1481). 26 RPG VI, n. 3625 (1477). 27 RPG V, n. 2075 (1468). 28 RPG VI, n. 3774 (1482). 29 RPG V, n. 2118 (1469); RPG VI, n. 3670 (1479): only mentioning ad scindendum panem. 30 RPG V, n. 2035 (1467). 31 RPG V, n. 2050 (1467).

290 The Bread-Knife

 quidam cultellus, quo in mensa usus fuerat;32  cultellus parvus, quem in manu tenebat dum collacionem faceret;33  parvus cultellus, quo adhuc in mensa sedens comedendo usus erat,34  cultellus quidam parvus […] aptus ad mensam et scindendum panem;35  parvus cultellus, quem cottidie ad usum suum panem scindendi et alia in mensa portabat,36  quidam cultellus parvus quo in dicta refectione ad scindendum panis et non ad alium finem utebatur;37  quidam parvus cultellus, quem pro usu incisionis panis secum portabat;38  suus cultellus parvus;39  quedam parva daga sive cultellus,40  cultellus vulgariter weydmesser quem penes se habebat;41  cultellus parvus tillitz vulgariter nuncupatus;42  quidam cultellus trusile nuncupatus, quem prout presbiteri in ills partibus gerere consueverunt;43  quoddam parvum instrumentum ferreum et parvus cultellus, quibus in certis rebus dicti chori utilibus elaborandis diebus cottidianis et alternatis utebatur et que secum habebat.44

Only rarely does one find a knife obviously of this category without any of these attributes like quidam cultellus quem apud se habebat.45 A cleric from the diocese of Schwerin had lent some liturgical objects to another village church for their religious service. After this service the

32 RPG V, n. 2192 (1471). 33 RPG VI, n. 3535 (1471). 34 RPG VI, n. 3810 (1484). 35 RPG VIL, n. 2253 (1490). 36 RPG VI, n. 3458 (1472). 37 RPG VII, n. 1685 (1486). 38 RPG VII, n. 2565 (1488). 39 RPG I, n. 635 (1441), and more often. 40 RPG VI, n. 1436 (1471). 41 RPG VI, n. 2500 (1486). 42 RPG VI, n. 2575 (1488). 43 RPG VI, n. 2646 (1492). 44 RPG VII, n. 2474 (1485); see appendix, n. 5. 45 RPG II, n. 877 (1451); also RPG III, n. 875 (1459); RPG VI, n. 3723 (1481).

291 Gerhard Jaritz objects were deposited with a certain peasant (villanus ville), who then did not want to return them. The cleric tried to get them back, which led to a quarrel and fight, and the supplicant, ad evitandum mortis periculum sibi imminentem, pulled out his bread-knife non tamen animo ipsum laicum interficiendi vel iniurandi sed se defendendi, and stabbed his opponent unintentionally in the shoulder. As a result of this stab wound, the peasant died eleven days later.46 The supplication of the cleric was accepted and he received absolution. A number of times quarrels arose out of drinking bouts or the drunkenness of the cleric’s opponent.47 A priest from the diocese of Camin was invited to drink by another priest (invitatus ad bibendum), in the course of which a verbal quarrel started and then a fight in which the supplicant pulled out his small knife causa se defendendi et ut mortem evaderet.48 In the register of 1468, a cleric reported that he had to defend himself with a knife used for eating against a drunken scholar (scolaris ebrius et potu superatus).49 Even more regularly, the quarrels arose at gatherings and meals: a prandium,50 a collatio,51 or a cena.52 In particular, verba iniuriosia of

46 RPG I, n. 212 (1439); see appendix, n. 1. 47 E.g., RPG VI, n. 3436 (1471): […] cervisia biberunt […]; RPG VU, n. 2500 (1486): […] ad bibendum servisiam […]; RPG VI, n. 2592 (1489): […] furore quodam nescitur aliunde quam ebrietatis proveniente […]. 48 RPG I, n. 635 (1441); see appendix, n. 2. 49 RPG V, n. 2075 (1468); see appendix, n. 3. Another opponent, a priest himself […] potu repletus ultra rationem incepit blasphemare in societate. RPG 1, n. 648 (1441). For the role of alcohol see also RPG 1, n. 688 (1441): […] ex pote […]; RPG VI, n. 3436 (1471; see note 51); RPG VI, n. 3530 (1475): […] vino forsan captus […]; RPG VI, n. 3577 (1475): […] sicut ebrius […]; RPG VI, n. 3625 (1477): […] ebrius […]; and so on. 50 E.g., RPG IV, n. 1267 (1460); RPG V, n. 2084 (1468); RPG V, n. 2108 (1469, see note 51); RPG V, n. 2118 (1469); RPG V, n. 2192 (1471); RPG VII, n. 1495 (1484): RPG VII, n. 1630 (1485). 51 E.g., RPG IV, n. 1804 (1461): […] cum ipse [Sifridus Gaubonid presbiter] in domo sua cum quodam presbitero et aliis laicis causa solacii congregatus in collatione sedisset […]; RPG V, n. 2082 (1468); PRG V, n. 2108 (1469): […] ad collationem seu ad prandium invitasset […]; RPG VI, n. 3436 (1471): […] quendam Henricum Ghiselberti laicum […] in quadam taberna cervisiam bibere et collationem facere invenerunt, qui ipsos secum de huiusmodi cervisiam bibere et collationem facere invitavit […]; RPV VI, n. 3535 (1471); RPG VI, n. 3577 (1475); RPG VI, n. 3670 (1479); RPG VII, 2631 (1491). 52 E.g., RPG V, n. 2177 (1471); RPG VI, n. 3436 (1471); RPG VI, n. 3804 (1484);

292 The Bread-Knife the opponent led to the quarrel.53 Subdeacon Arnoldus de Eldix from the diocese of Liége was called bastardus et filius meretricis ignorando suum partum by another subdeacon, which led to a fight in which Arnoldus, se defendendo, stabbed his opponent with a small knife (parva diga).54 One may summarize: To pull out one’s knife on the occasion of a quarrel, name-calling or other verbal abuse, sometimes at a social gathering or facing drunkenness seems to have been a regular pattern in late medieval society. If a cleric got involved in such a situation it was important that he was able to prove:

 that he could not be blamed of having provoked the quarrel,  that he acted in self-defence,  that he did not want to injure or kill his opponent,  and, certainly, that he neither possessed nor used a weapon.

A possible loophole was that the cleric had defended himself against violent and dangerously aggressive opponents by using a legitimate object of daily life that everyone was always allowed to carry on his person: a small bread-knife. Accidents with bread-knives that led to the injury or death of an adversary were situations for which the Apostolic Penitentiary might then absolve a cleric from guilt.

RPG VII, n. 1895 (1487); RPG VII, n. 2474 (1485): see appendix, n. 5; RPG VII, n. 2607 (1490): […] cene quarundam nuptiarum, que dicta die celebrate fuerant, interesset […]; PRG VII, n. 2641 (1491). 53 As examples on verba iniuriosia in the context of the use of bread-knives by clerics see, e.g., RPG IV, n. 1267 (1460); RPG V, n. 2035 (1467); RPG V, n. 2050 (1467); RPG V, n. 2108 (1469): verba iniuriosia et scandalosa; RPG VI, n. 3525 (1474): verba contumeliosa; RPG VI, n. 3530 (1475); RPG VI, n. 3442 (1471); RPG VI, n. 3631 (1477); RPG VII, n. 2503 (1486). 54 RPG VI, n. 3804 (1484); see appendix, n. 4.

293 Gerhard Jaritz

Appendix. Clerics approaching the Apostolic Penitentiary after having used a small (bread-)knife to defend themselves

1. 1439 October 20: Supplication of Johannes Kemppen, cleric from the diocese of Schwerin (RPG I, 26, n. 212)

Johannes Kemppen cler. sacrista sive custos eccl. S. Georgii Criwitze Zwerin. dioc. exponit, quod quoddam prestitit ornatum, librum videlicet et calicem pro celebratione misse necessarios in eccl. Ville Settin, que d. eccl. S. Georgii filia est, apportatus p. quendam dom. Henricum Vrycman tunc eccl. predicte s. Georgii cap.; qui dom. H. post missam celebr. huiusmodi ornatum librum et calicem coram quodam Borgardo Gelleberch prefate ville villano deposuit ad conservandum; deinde vero d. exponens pro rehabendo libro et calice missus transiens ab ipso B., apud quem, ut premittitur, huiusmodi res deposite erant, librum et calicem postulavit, cui tunc idem B. male, turpiter et diabolice respondit; ipse tamen exponens huiusmodi turpia verba minime attendens reiterate ad dandum hec res et ne ipsum impediret, nam plura alia in sua eccl. facere haberet, humiliter ipse B. supplic., qui tune magis ipsum inclamando alta horribili voce proclamavit eundem exponentem c. suo fr., qui nequam esset et latro naturaliter, fuisse et esse spurious; idem exponens tunc ipsi B. respondendo dixit huiusmodi verba potius persone sue convenire, nam talis esset quem ipsum nominaverat; tunc idem B. una c. eius ux. ianuam domus sibi preclusit et ad manus quondam cuspidem recepit, in ipsum exponentem crudeliter et furiose irruens eum interficere totis viribus conabatur; tunc idem exponens hinc inde fugiens, videns omn. vias sibi preclusas nec a d. laic. manibus posse liberari, ad evitandum mortis periculum sibi imminentem quondam parvum cultellum suum, c. quo panes scindere usus fuit, n. tamen animo ipsum laic. interficiendi vel iniurandi sed se defendendi, evaginavit et ipsi laic. obviando casualiter in spatulas transfigit, ex quo ut timetur vulnere undecimo die fuerat vita functus; c. autem d. exponens cupiat ad omn. ord. prom. et in hiis Altissimo [famulari]: supplic., quatenus ipsum a reatu huiusmodi homicidii si quem incurrit absol., secumque super irreg. et inhabil. c. ipso misericorditer disp. mandare dignemini de gratia speciali (f. u. i. Ni., signanda p. fiat, si est ita si mortem aliter evadere n. poterat) [Fl], 20. oct. [39] SP 2 146v.

294 The Bread-Knife

2. 1441 August 5: Supplication of Johannes Crakobo, priest from the diocese of Camin (RPG I, 67, n. 635)

Johannes Crakobo presb. Camin. dioc. exponit, quod olim invitatus ad bibendum c. quodam presb., cui deinde caritative dixit “rogo ut mihi velitis subsidium prestare in istis festivitatibus arando campum”; qui presb. alia de causa furiosus respondit “campum matris tue circa posteriora arare volo”, cui dixit “non deroges honori mortue nec sanctorum”; statim incepit blasphemari, ad que omn. exponens respondit “fiat consensus dom. meorum”; et sic surrexit idem presb. et cultello pectus exponentis laceravit, arrepta lancea eum post hoc morti tradere vellet; cui obviavit exponens causa se defendendi et ut mortem evaderet suo cultello parvo, et etiam alii eos sequestrari desiderantes armis eorum, in quo tumultu idem presb. modicum in manu vulneratus erat; exponens autem timens maiores discordias discessit; idem presb. videns famulam quandam suam cuius mamillam eodem cultello, quo pectus exponentis laceravit, furiose inseruit, ita quod ex [im]bellicitate cedidit cadens in exstasim; ipsa autem ancilla eo iacente arrepta lancea primo perforavit eius genu et deinde genitalia pluries vulneravit, ut post octo dies vita defunctus est; c. autem, pater sancta, nonulli d. exponentis emuli simpliciter iur. ignari asserunt ipsum exponentem reatum homicidii incurrisse: supplic., quatenus ad obstruendum ora emulorum suorum [decl. nullum homicidium comm. nec irreg. aut inhabil. maculam contraxisse] (f.u.i. Ni., signetur p.f.d.s. ad cautelam) [F1], 5. aug. 41 SP 2bis 254r.

3. 1468 June 6: Supplication of Henricus Nienhusen, priest from the diocese of Ratzeburg (RPG V, 276, n. 2075)

Henricus Nienhusen presb. Razeburg. dioc. [exponit], quod cum ipse quodam occurrente temp. causa cimiterium gloriosissime b. Marie Virginis op. Rostokken. accessisset et post aliquantulum morulam domum suam accedere vellet, quidam scol. se in itinere adiunxit et domum suam una cum eo intravit; et tunc dictus exp. sepedictum scol. ut ad domum suam iret amicabiliter instanter rogavit; qui quidem scol. ebrius et potu superatus verba admonitoria dicti exp. minime advertens neque curans in dictum exp. nescitur quo spiritu ductus irruit et eum in terram proiecit et quendam cultellum extraxit; alteram vero manuum gutturi exp. in supino iacens acriter tenuit; videns se sic suppressum et modum de dicti scol. manibus evadendi nesciens penitus et ignorans parvum cultellum, quem sibi ad panem scindendum adaptaverat, vaginando cum eo vibravit non animo ipsum ledendo vel vel offendendo, sed vim vi repellendo casu infortuitu dictum scol. in pectore vulneravit, de quo vulnere

295 Gerhard Jaritz vitam finivit, de qua morte doluit nec aliter quam ut premittitur in ipsius morte culpabilis fuerit; ab aliquibus vero simplicibus asseritur ipsum premissorum occasione homicidii reatum incurrisse et irreg. maculam contraxisse nec in suis ord. ministrare posse, ad ora igitur talium obstruenda; supplicatur de decl. ipsum premissorum occasione nullum homicidii reatum incurrisse nullamque irreg. maculam sive inhabilitatis notam contraxisse, sed in suis ord. libere ministrari posse ut in forma (f.u.i. Jo. s. Bernardi; videat eam dom. A. de Grassis, Jo.; comm. ordin., et si vocatis vocandis sibi constiterit quod exp. vim vi repellendo et se defendeno aliter fugere seu mortem evitare non valens percusserit ut prefertur et de aliis expositis, declaret ut petitur) Rome apud s. Marcum 6. iun. 68 PA 16 155v.

4. 1484 January 3: Supplication of Arnoldus de Eldix, subdeacon from the diocese of Liége (RPG VI, 639, n. 3804)

Arnoldus de Eldix subdiac. Leod. dioc.; [exponitur pro parte], quod ipse olim in op. Lovanien. in quadam cena, ubi material guerrarum Leod. narrabatur, existens, quidam Hugo de Louven subdiac. Leod. dioc. verba oblocutoria retulit de dom. Withelmo de Diberg dicens inter cetera se plus perdere in patria Leod. quam aliquis assedens in mensa huiusmodi; exp. vero se nimium dampna posse sustinere in dicta patria asseruit, quam prefatus Hugo, nam suos consanguineos et multos amicos in eadem haberet; depost vero idem Hugo exp. multa verba iniuriosa dixit et eum esse bastardum et filium meretricis ignorando suum patrem, necnon venisse ibidem ad explorandum que et qualia ipse aut alii dicerent ad renuntiandum ea dicto Wilhelmo de Diberg; exp. vero respondit eidem Hugoni se tam diutius esse velle traditorem seu exploratorem sicut et ipse Hugo; ex illo prefatus Hugo commotus arripuit exp. per crines et lesit eundem cum cultello in mentum tenens ipsum cum crinibus, et sic exp. vim vi repellendo non valens aufugere se defendendo dictum Hugonem in dextram pectorem cum parva diga percussit, ex qua percussione idem Hugo infra 8 dies expost decessit, ab aliquibus tamen simplicibus etc.: supplicatur pro parte exp. de decl. ipsum propter premissa nullum homicidii reatum seu irreg. maculam incurrisse ac inhabil. notam contraxisse, sed in suis susceptis ord. ministrare et ad alios ord. promoveri et in illis licite ministrare posse ut in forma (f.u.i. Jul. Brictonorien.; videat eam dom. A. de Grassis, Jul.; comm. ordin. et si vocatis vocan [Rome]dis sibi constiterit, quod exp. vim vi repellendo et se defendendo aliter fugere seu mortem evadere non valens percusserit ut prefertur et de aliis expositis, declaret ut petitur) [Rome] 3. ian 84 PA 33 168v.

296 The Bread-Knife

5. 1485 July 27: Supplication of Ludovicus Dannenberch, Premonstratensian monk from the diocese of Havelberg (RPG VII, 392- 3, n. 2474)

Ludovicus Dannenberch presb. can. prof. mon. o. Prem. b. Marie Virginis et s. Nicolai loci in Jerichow Havelberg. dioc. per prep. soliti gubernari; exponitur pro parte, quod cum olim quadam die de mense aprilis proxime preteriti post lectas vesperas dicti diei et post cenam etiam extra refectorium in certo loco ipso exp. et aliis fratribus can. professis in eodem mon. tunc existentibus eiusdem mon. refectionem sumentibus, unus eorundem fratrum Johannes Smeth alias Pasche nuncupatus etiam presb. cuidam fratri Arnoldo Randow etiam presb. nonulla verba iniuriosa sine aliqua intermissione proferret et ambo simul rixarentur, dictusque exp., qui et. senior omnium fratrum predictorum erat, de mandato prep. sui superioris in absentia prioris eiusdem mon. sibi facto sub pena inobidientie et interdicti ingressus chori eccl. prefati mon. fr. Johannem vica voce et fr. Arnoldum prefatos semel tantum ut silentium facerent monuisset, ac idem fr. Johannes monitionem contempnens silentium non servasset et inobedientie et interdicti penas propterea incurisset, ac postmodum refectione predicta sumpta cum fratribus completionem legere volentibus chorum predictum unusque eorundem fratrum in absentia dicti exp. a versiculo “converte nos Deus salvator noster” legeret intrasset et cum eo alii fr. tunc presentes propter penitentiam prefati fratris Johannis completorium predictum legere negassent, duo ex eis exp. prefatum apud portam eiusdem chori tunc existentem interrogarunt ab eoque responso facto, quod nisi predictus fr. Johannes egrederetur eundem chorum nollet ingredi, dictus fr. Johannes, qui responsum audivit, egre ferens propterea in eundem exp. verba protulit opprobriosa illumque apprehensum percussit vulneravit et in terram impetuose constituit ipsumque tamen dictus exp. postquam a terra surrexit non amplius ne percuteretur rogavit; verum tamen idem fr. Johannes mala malis addendo rursus dictum exp. cum manibus iteratis vicibus in capite fortiter percussit et vulneravit; inde sentiens dictus exp. ac cernens sibi mortis periculum imminere et alias forsitan mortem evitare non posse dubitans vim vi repellendo et se defendendo cum quodam parvo instrumento ferreo et parvo cultello, quibus in certis rebus dicti chori utilibus elaborandis diebus cottidianis et alternatis utebatur et que secum habebat, eundem fr. Johannem percussorem suum percussit et ut asseritur vulneravit, ex quibus quidem percussione et vulneribus dictus fr. Johannes postmodum sicut Domino placuit diem suum clausit extremum; cum autem dictus exp. in morte prefati fratris Johannis alias quam ut premittitur culpabilis non fuerit ac de ea valde doluerit et doleat ab intimis de presenti cupiatque in omnibus suis ord. ministrare et Domino reg. habitu perp. famulari ac admin., off. et benef. dicti mon. et ord. retinere, a nonullis [tamen

297 Gerhard Jaritz asseritur] ipsum premissorum occasione homicidii reatum incurrisse: supplicatur pro parte exp. de decl. ipsum nullum homicidii reatum commisisse nullamque irreg. maculam sive inhabil. notam contraxisse ut in forma (f.u.i., F. ep. Anagnin.; et comm. prep. mon. o. Prep. b. Marie Magdeburg. per prep. soliti gubernari, cum ordin. suumque superiorem prep. dicti mon. suspectum habeat, fiat F.; comm. e si vocatis vocandis sibi constiterit predicta vera esse et predictus exp. aliter mortem evadere non poterat, nisi dictum Johannem vulnerasset, et de aliis expositis, declaret ut petitur) Rome apud s. Petrum 27. iul. 85 PA 34 219r.

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- 18 -

Excrement and Waste*

Modern Shit – Medieval Shit

In his planned but then prohibited radio play from 1947/1948, “Pour en finir avec le jugement de Dieu” (“To Have Done with the Judgment of God”), Antonin Artaud (1896-1948), the French playwright, poet, actor, and representative of surrealist avant-garde theater (the Theater of Cruelty), offered the following statement: “Là ou ça sent la merde ça sent l’être […]”1:

There where it smells of shit it smells of being. Man could just as well not have shat, not have opened the anal pouch, but he chose to shit as he would have chosen to live instead of consenting to live dead. Because in order not to make caca, he would have had to consent not to be, […].2

Artaud’s statement was undoubtedly odd and exceptional for an audience of the twentieth or twenty-first century. One does not talk about shit when expecting to be accepted in society. A similar situation is true for any studies into it. Thus, the research into shit, defecation,

* Originally published as Gerhard Jaritz, “Excrement and Waste,” in Handbook of Medieval Culture. Fundamental Aspects and Conditions of the European Middle Ages, ed. Albrecht Classen (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015), 406-14. 1 Antonin Artaud, Selected Writings, ed. and intro. Susan Sontag (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux 1976), xlvi-xlvii. 2 Antonin Artaud, To Have Done with the Judgement of God (2011; http://www.surrealism-plays.com/Artaud.html (last access March 4, 2014).

Gerhard Jaritz excrement, latrines, and also dirt and waste is not very popular and common in Medieval Studies, as in a number of other fields too, as, for instance, anthropology3 or literary and art historical studies.4 A representative of the research community of medievalists who published a “Manifesto for Waste Studies”5 is still an exception. Many aspects continue to escape our full understanding, but one may hope that some recent research will push us further in recognizing the cultural significance of how people treated waste in the past.6 When concentrating on statements, discussions, and discourses of the medieval period, one can at least partly agree with the late Michael Camille’s remark in his famous book Image on the Edge where he emphasized that “[…] we have to forget our modern, post-Freudian, notions of excrement linked with decay, infection and death. Medieval people did not problematize faecal matters as dirt, as Freud’s ‘matter out of place’. Shit had its proper place in the scheme of things.”7 On the other hand, one always has to be careful with generalizations, in particular when dealing with such a topic like “Excrement and Waste.” Thus, one also should not offer general statements like “Excreting and urinating in public was, as we might say, no big deal.”8

3 Sjaak Van der Geest, “Not Knowing about Defecation,” in On Knowing and not Knowing in the Anthropology of Medicine, ed. Roland Littlewood (Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press, 2007), 75-86. 4 Jeff Persels and Russell Ganim (ed.), Fecal Matters in Early Modern Literature and Art: Studies in Scatology (Basingstoke: Ashgate, 2004), xiii: “Scatology, the Last Taboo”. 5 Susan Signe Morrison, Excrement in the Late Middle Ages: Sacred Filth and Chaucer’s Fecopoetics (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), 153-5. 6 Olaf Wagener (ed.), Aborte im Mittelalter und der Frühen Neuzeit: Bauforschung – Archäologie – Kulturgeschichte (Petersberg: Imhof, 2014). 7 Michael Camille, Image on the Edge: The Margins of Medieval Art (London: Reaktion Books, 1992), 111. 8 Allison P. Coudert, “Sewers, Cesspools, and Privies: Waste as Reality and Metaphor in Pre-modern European Cities,” in Urban Space in the Middle Ages and the Early Modern Period, ed. Albrecht Classen (Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 2009), 715-6.

300 Excrement and Waste

Privies

The studies concerning the toilet culture of ancient Rome are well advanced.9 A recent collective volume has offered valuable multi- disciplinary, comparative approaches and particular insights into the manifold contexts of ancient society and latrines – in private and public space, concerning personal hygiene, with regard to the construction, technology, and decoration of the toilets, and so on.10 The situation with regard to the Middle Ages is different. Still much has to be done to achieve the level of results that Ancient Studies have reached. The earliest recorded use of the term privy [Middle English prive, from Old French privé, from Latin privatus; Middle High German privet; Italian privato] in England from ca. 1200 was the noun for toilet, and this remained the most frequent and regular usage during the Middle Ages.11 The context of secret and private could be modified in specific situations and communication and discussion about the privy could even become important for a broader public with regard to its use, any legislation and quarrels about it, its visual image, literary texts, symbolic and allegoric meanings, and so on. Concerning monastic houses of the high Middle Ages, defecating and privies were seen as a part of community space that had to be regulated in detail, as is proved by a number of descriptions and rules of monastic life (consuetudines). The Cluniac Constitutions of Farfa from the mid- eleventh century describe the monks’ latrine quite accurately. It is supposed to be 70 feet long and 23 feet broad, has 45 seats, and each seat has a small window. Each seat is also provided with a small pile of

9 Richard Neudecker, Die Pracht der Latrine: zum Wandel der öffentlichen Bedürfnisanstalten in der kaiserzeitlichen Stadt (Munich: Pfeil, 1994); Barry Hobson, Latrinae et Foricae: Toilets in the Roman World (London: Duckworth, 2009); Gemma C. M. Jansen, Ann Olga Koloski-Ostrow and Eric M. Moormann (ed.), Roman Toilets: Their Archaeology and Cultural History (Leuven: Peeters, 2011); Ann Olga Koloski-Ostrow, The Archaeology of Sanitation in Roman Italy: Water, Sewers, and Toilets (Chapel Hill, NC, and London 2014). 10 Jansen, Koloski-Ostrow, and Moormann (ed.), Roman Toilets: Their Archaeology and Cultural History. 11 David Austin, “Private and Public: An Archaeological Consideration of Things,” in Die Vielfalt der Dinge: Neue Wege zur Analyse mittelalterlicher Sachkultur, ed. Helmut Hundsbichler, Gerhard Jaritz, and Thomas Kühtreiber (Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1998), 183.

301 Gerhard Jaritz wooden splinters.12 To make it possible to clean oneself these wooden splinters (ligneae astulae) or soft hay and herbs had to be offered, as the Consuetudines of Hirsau from the end of the eleventh century spell out in great detail.13 Some eleventh- and twelfth-century regulations stipulate that the novices are not allowed to go to the latrine alone but only together with their novice master. If a novice has to visit the latrine during the night, he has to wake up the novice master, the latter wakes up another novice, and then they walk together to the latrine. The novices are to have their own latrines or seats in the latrine, separated from the ones of the monks.14 Urban building regulations sometimes also deal with the construction of latrines. Often, it was not a private decision where an individual had a latrine constructed.15 Some laws order that the garderobe (i.e., the toilet) should only be built in those parts of the houses which were on the far side from the street.16 Other ordinances determined a certain distance from the neighbor’s property.17 The filth was either held in cesspits or, when available, one built the privies over the running water of rivers and brooks or over the city ditches. The privies built over running water could lead to massive problems and controversies because of the resultant filth fouling the watercourse. From a number of cities, London, for instance, there is quite rich evidence about public latrines that were constructed over running water for clearing filth.18 Often one comes across individual cases and controversies concerning latrines that deal with annoyances because of smell or leaking. One finds discussions about the common use of latrines or the division

12 Gerd Zimmermann, Ordensleben und Lebensstandard: Die Cura Corporis in den Ordensvorschriften des abendländischen Hochmittelalters (Münster: Aschendorff, 1973), 412. 13 Ibidem, 413. 14 Ibidem, 411-2. 15 Dolly Jørgensen, “Medieval Latrines and the Law,” Medium Aevum Quotidianum 53 (2006), 11. 16 Gerhard Jaritz, “Das Privet in der Stadt des späten Mittelalters, oder: Zum öffentlichen Diskurs über das ‘Heimliche’,” Modus vivendi II [Vana Tallinn XVI (XX)] Tallinn (2005), 61. 17 Ernest L. Sabine, “Latrines and Cesspools in Mediaeval London,” Speculum 9 (1934), 319. 18 Ibidem, 306-9.

302 Excrement and Waste of their use and their role with regard to the selling and purchase of houses. Sometimes accidents happened and led, in particular, to the death or injuries of the cesspit cleaners. The latrines were not only used as toilets but often served as universal garbage chutes.19 They were used as disposal for organic waste, pieces of wood, clay, glass, and so on. In many urban communities, the cleaning of the privies and cesspits was professionally organized. The latrine-cleaners were mostly members of marginal groups of society, and sometimes they also worked as grave- diggers.20 It can be assumed that the cleaning and repair of the privies generally took place at night.21 In a number of cases, the discussion about privies, their construction, and the activities in them exceeded the specific concern of the affected members of medieval communities and became a popular topic of prose and poetry. There, the privy, excrement, and farting could particularly contribute to mediating humoristic and satiric matters, often in a didactic way.22 One great example proves to be Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (ca. 1400), in particular the scatological Miller’s Tale, “with the most famous fart in all English (if not world) literature.”23 Boccaccio (1313-1375) is

19 Hansjörg Küster, “Versorgung und Entsorgung in der mittelalterlichen Stadt,” in Mensch und Natur im mittelalterlichen Europa: Archäologische, historische und naturwissenschaftliche Befunde, ed. Konrad Spindler (Klagenfurt: Wieser, 1998), 323- 4. 20 Pia Kamber and Christine Keller (ed.), Fundgruben: Stille Örtchen ausgeschöpft, Ausstellung im Historischen Museum Basel (Basel: Historisches Museum Basel, 1996), 14-5. 21 Sabine, “Latrines and Cesspools,” 316; Walter Lehnert, “Entsorgungsprobleme der Reichsstadt Nürnberg,” in Städtische Versorgung und Entsorgung im Wandel der Geschichte, ed. Jürgen Sydow (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1981), 152; Claudia Frieser, “Die spätmittelalterlichen Abwasserkanäle und heimlichen Gemächer Nürnbergs,” in “...nicht eine einzige Stadt, sondern eine ganze Welt...” Nürnberg-Archäologie und Kulturgeschichte, ed. Birgit Friedel and Claudia Frieser (Fürth: Dr. Faustus, 1999), 196. 22 Albrecht Classen, “Farting and the Power of Human Language, with a Focus on Hans Wilhelm Kirchhof ’s Sixteenth-Century Schwänke,” Special Issue: Scales of Connectivity, ed. Paul Maurice Clogan, Medievalia et Humanistica NS 35 (2009), 57-76. 23 Susan Signe Morrison, Excrement in the Late Middle Ages: Sacred Filth and Chaucer’s Fecopoetics, especially 67; Peter G. Beidler, “Art and Scatology in the ‘Miller’s Tale’,” The Chaucer Review 12 (1977), 90-102.

303 Gerhard Jaritz generally “fascinated with latrines and privies” and shows “an uncompromising disgust in the presence of filth.”24 There is, for instance, the well-known story about the young horse-dealer, Andreuccio da Perugia, in the Decameron from ca. 1350 (II, 5) who was staying in Naples and, “nature demanding,” wanted to visit the privy, “set his foot on a plank which was detached from the joist at the further end, whereby down it went, and he with it.” He took no hurt “beyond sousing himself from head to foot in the ordure which filled the whole place.”25 In the illustrated manuscripts of the Decameron one also finds visual representations of this story. The story is comparable to the one about Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, mentioned in some sources for the year 1183. The emperor was holding court in a hall at Erfurt, when a number of planks broke. Eight princes, many noble lords, and more than hundred knights fell down into the cesspool; only the bishops and clerics were not harmed. The emperor saved himself by jumping out of the window.26 An Alemannic author from the South German town of Constance, Heinrich Wittenweiler, also uses shit in his satiric and didactic verse narrative, the Ring from ca. 1400: The main protagonists are two peasant lovers from the fictional village of Lappenhausen. In a quarrel between the girl, Mätzli Rüerenzumph, and her father, Fritzo, the latter locks her into a shed and exclaims:

Da sitz und scheiss! Der ars ist dir ze dik und feiss (Sit down and shit! Your arse is too fat.)27

24 Douglas Biow, The Culture of Cleanliness in Renaissance Italy (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2006), 170, 173. 25 Giovanni Boccaccio, The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Decameron, vol. 1, trans. J. M. Rigg (2003); http://gutenberg.org/cache/epub/3726/pg3726.html (last access October 17, 2014). 26 Annales Stadenses, ed. Johann Martin Lappenberg (Hannover: Monumenta Germaniae Historica, 1859), 327, 350-1; Kamber and Keller (ed.), Fundgruben: Stille Örtchen ausgeschöpft, Ausstellung im Historischen Museum Basel, 24. 27 Heinrich Wittenwiler, Der Ring, Text-Übersetzung-Kommentar. Nach der Münchener Handschrift, ed. Werner Röcke, Annika Goldenbaum and Edmund Wiessner (Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter, 2012), 70, vv. 1546-7.

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– meaning that she is doing too well, or is too lazy. Two other female protagonists in the same text are Jützin Scheissindpluomen [Shit-into-the-Flowers] and Elsbeth Völlipruoch [Breeches-Full-of-Shit]. The use of fecal language can also be traced particularly in quarrels and at the judicial court, which was not only part of male space. An example from Basel offers evidence of a quarrel between two women, in which one of them shouted at the other “Ich scheiß auf dein Recht” (I am shitting on your right), to which the other shouted back “Ich scheiß dir in dein Maul” (I am shitting into your mouth).28 There is also evidence of using smeared excrement against adversaries and their possessions.29

Excremental Theology

In his Divina Commedia (ca. 1308-1321), Dante Alighieri’s hell “offers perhaps the most profound meditation on excremental theology.”30 Sinners sit in shit (in sterco che da li uman privadi parea mosso – “in excrement that seemed as if it had been poured from human privies”; Inferno xviii, 113-4), and they wear shit for hats (vidi un col capo sì di merda lordo, che non parëa s’era laico o cherco – “I saw a man, his head so smeared with shit one could not see if he were priest or layman”; Inferno xviii, 116-7). A “foul, dishey-elled wench” scratches herself with “shit-filled nails” (quella sozza e scapigliata fante che là si graffia con l’unghie merdose; Inferno xviii, 130-1).31 Defecation and excrement also sometimes turn up in the image-text word-play connections in illustrated religious manuscripts, of which the late Michael Camille has shown a good number.32 These contexts, mainly

28 Kamber and Keller (ed.), Fundgruben: Stille Örtchen ausgeschöpft, Ausstellung im Historischen Museum Basel, 45. 29 Ibidem, 46. 30 Valerie Allen, On Farting: Language and Laughter in the Middle Ages (New York and Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 80; Biow, The Culture of Cleanliness in Renaissance Italy, 157-8. 31 Dante Alighieri, La Commedia: secondo l’antica vulgate, Vol. 2: Inferno, ed. Giorgio Petrocchi (Milan: Mondadori, 1966); Dante Alighieri, The Divine Commedy, Inferno, ed. and trans. Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander (New York: Anchor, 2001); Allen, On Farting: Language and Laughter, 80; Zygmunt G. Barański, “Scatology and Obscenity in Dante,” in Dante for the New Millenium, ed. Teodolinda Barolini and H. Wayne Storey (New York: Fordham, 2003), 259-73. 32 Camille, Image on the Edge: The Margins of Medieval Art.

305 Gerhard Jaritz based on mnemotechnic aspects, may often be hard to understand for a modern beholder. An example from an Austrian manuscript from the last third of the fifteenth century owned by the Lower Austrian Premonstratensian house of Geras (Ms. 6, fol. 153r; see Fig. 18.1) shows a squatting and defecating boy who might, at first sight, not fit well into the context of this Gradual, that is, a liturgical manuscript. If, however, one looks for the contextualizing text–image word–play, everything becomes clear. The text beside the image offers the Vulgate Psalm 138:2, and it says:

Domine probasti me et cognovisti me, tu cognovisti sessionem meam et surrectionem meam […]. (O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known [me]. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising […])

This sitting down (sessio), is clearly meant to be recognized as connected with the content of the image, that is, the activity of the squatting and defecating boy. This context had a clear function in the specific, monastic, and aristocratic mnemonic “riddle and word–play culture” that one can trace regularly and which had its proper place in the intellectual life of the period. The objects, activities, and relations could certainly be special and conspicuous, but at the same time not problematic.33 Theological symbolism, biblical typology and natural allegory also used excrement. One might, for instance, think of examples out of the so-called Concordantiae caritatis of Ulrich of Lilienfeld from the mid- fourteenth century.34 It represents the textually and visually transferred relation of the Christian antitype with its pre-figurations in the Old Testament as well as with natural allegories. In the core, the manuscript seems to be a sermon collection following the Sundays, the feasts of the Church Year, and saints’ feasts. In the allegories from nature, excrement, this time of animals, again can play an important role. One example is the New Testament story of Jesus driving the money-lenders from the

33 See also Karl P. Wentersdorf, “The Symbolic Significance of the ‘Figurae Scatologicae’,” Word, Picture, and Spectacle, ed. Clifford Davidson (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1984), 1-20. 34 Herbert Douteil, Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld: Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355), 2 vols. (Münster: Aschendorff, 2010).

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Temple that, as an allegory from nature, is referred to dogs being chased away as they foul places with their stinking excrement:

Hinc canis abscedat, loca nam male stercore fedat. (From here the dog should depart, as he fouls the place with his stinking shit.)

Fig. 18.1. Defecating boy in an initial of a graduale of Passau rite (Vulgate, Psalm 138:2) Graduale from the Premontratensian monastery of Geras, fol. 153r–184v: Incipit commune de sanctis primo in virgilia omnis apostoli introitus (initial letter “N” of the Psalm 138:2, fol. 153r), Passau, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, before 1485 (Geras, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 6 /HMML 6571/, fol. 153r; © Stift Geras, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

307 Gerhard Jaritz

Further, the explaining text becomes more detailed:

“Aristotle says and also general experience proves: Dogs are expelled, as they dirty and soil the most beautiful and blossoming places with their excrement. Bad clerics and other bad persons living near churches, they are shameless dogs: As with stinking excrement their bad example dirties and soils the God-pleasing and virtuous life of simple people. Following Christ’s example, these bad persons have to be expelled by the true shepherds of the church, like rabid dogs.”35

“Not for the eyes and noses of pious people”

Garderobes as parts of stone castles or urban houses on the far side from the street did not have the problem of not being shielded from view. This was different for common and public privies as well as for free-standing latrines in rural space. There, laws can be traced which ordain that privies be concealed, sometimes stating that they should not be seen by pious people.36 Medieval culture also shows a tight connection between cleanliness and noses.37 Besides the problems with latrines and the trade of the butchers, complaints were also made about the odour from other trades, as from tanners,38 dyers,39 or potters.40 The surviving sources offer not only a picture of such difficulties with the trades but also with individuals concerning other matters than latrines.41 In 1349, the English king wrote

35 Douteil, Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld, vol. 1, 78-79, vol. 2, 459. 36 Jaritz, “Das Privet in der Stadt des späten Mittelalters,” 63. 37 Biow, The Culture of Cleanliness in Renaissance Italy, 183; see also Dolly Jørgensen, “The Medieval Sense of Smell, Stench, and Sanitation,” in Les cinq sens de la ville du Moyen Âge à nos jours, ed. Ulrike Krampl, Robert Beck and Emmanuelle Retaillaud-Bajac (Tours: Presses universitaires François-Rabelais, 2013), 301-13. 38 Dolly Jørgensen, “Local Government Responses to Urban River Pollution in Late Medieval England,” Water History 2/1 (2010), 38-40. 39 Martin Illi, Von der Schîssgruob zur modernen Stadtentwässerung (Zurich: Verlag Neue Züricher Zeitung, 1987), 20-2. 40 Paris 1496. Lynn Thorndike, “Sanitation, Baths and Street-Cleaning in the Middle Ages and Renaissance,” Speculum 3 (1928), 203. 41 Jean-Pierre Leguay, La pollution au Moyen Age, 5th ed. (1999; Paris: Gisserot,

308 Excrement and Waste to the mayor of London and protested “that filth was being thrown from the houses by day and night, so that the streets and lanes through which people had to pass were foul with human feces, and the air of the city poisoned to the great danger of men passing, especially in this time of contagious disease”.42 In some laws human filth was routinely put together with sour wine and garbage in the broader sense, as in 1307 in the Istrian town of Piran, or with wastewater, straw, or litter. “The implication is that human waste products were viewed as simply another form of litter blocking free access to the town’s roadways […]”.43 The contamination of streets with waste of any kind as well as the waste disposal in rivers and brooks led to a large number of conflicts, arbitrations, regulations, and prohibitions. One of the main threats could also come from people disposing of filth, defecating, or engaging in other unhygienic activities in and around the fountains.44 Altogether, “the forces which motivated public action on cleansing were the aesthetic objection to the appearance and smell of rubbish, the association between putrefaction and disease, and a sense of pride in the dignified appearance of a town”.45 Clean streets and rivers were seen as part of “proper moral behavior”.46 Attempts to create and keep a clean community can generally be seen as tightly connected with good rule.47

2007), 16-31. 42 Ernest L. Sabine, “City Cleaning in Mediaeval London,” Speculum 12 (1936), 27. 43 Ronald Edward Zupko and Robert Anthony Laures, Straws in the Wind: Medieval Urban Environmental Law – The Case of Northern Italy (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996), 52. 44 Roberta J. Magnusson, Water Technology in the Middle Ages: Cities, Monasteries and Waterworks after the Roman Empire (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001), 122. 45 Derek J. Keene, “Rubbish in Medieval Towns,” in Environmental Archaeology in the Urban Context, ed. Alan R. Hall and Harry K. Kenward (London: Council for British Archaeology, 1982), 28. 46 Dolly Jørgensen, “‘All good rule of the Citee’: Sanitation and Civic Government in England, 1400-1600,” Journal of Urban History 36/3 (2010), 303. 47 Jørgensen, “Medieval Latrines and the Law,” 16.

309 Gerhard Jaritz

Management Strategies

Dolly Jørgensen stated rightly that “the uncomplicated technologies of streets, gutters, waste bins, and latrines required complicated management strategies in the late medieval city”.48 For the treatment of waste in medieval communities, the craft of the butchers offers perhaps the most important evidence. Butchering can be seen as the trade that, more than any other, led to complaints, controversies, and regulations with regard to cleanliness and smells.49 Medieval and early modern “butcher’s space” was context-dependent. The two opposites, that is, “public” and “secret” performance and representation of the trade, were meant to lead to a similar result, that is, protecting the communities and their members in a number of analogous respects. The two different types of space were meant to have similar outcomes. A large number of surviving norms and regulations show that slaughtering the animals and selling the meat was meant to be as public as possible so that controllers and customers could see the quality of the livestock and meat as well as the correctness of the method of slaughter.50 Sometimes, however, slaughtering in public space was seen as a danger to the health of the people. When plagues swept the community in the 1360s, it was ordered in London that all beasts should be slaughtered outside the city.51 In Coventry, it was ordained in 1442 that animals should only be slaughtered outside the city walls but cows, calves and sheep could be slaughtered in the butchers’ houses and pigs in the “common slaughter houses” for one year.52

48 Dolly Jørgensen, “Managing Streets and Gutters in Late Medieval England and Scandinavia,” Technology and Culture 49 (2008), 565. 49 David R. Carr, “Controlling the Butchers in Late Medieval English Towns,” The Historian 70 (2008), 451; N. J. Ciecieznski, “The Stench of Disease: Public Health and the Environment in Late-Medieval English Towns and Cities,” Health, Culture and Society 4 (2013), 95. 50 Ernest L. Sabine, “Butchering in Mediaeval London,” Speculum 8 (1933), 336; Fabien Faugeron, “Nourrir la ville: L’exemple de la boucherie vénitienne à la fin du Moyen Âge,” Histoire urbaine 2/16 (2006), 60; Jaritz, “Entre public et secret: L’espace de la boucherie,” 235. 51 Sabine, “Butchering in Mediaeval London,” 344. 52 Carr, “Controlling the Butchers in Late Medieval English Towns,” 457.

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For getting rid of the offal, the “butcher’s space” should be as secret as possible.53 This situation can be seen as comparable to a number of regulations concerning public latrines that sometimes were to be concealed in such a way that they were not in sight of pious people.54 Butcher’s waste seen as a visual offense and danger to health can be found in a number of European communities as, for instance, London. Butchers were not allowed to throw entrails, intestines, blood, and other waste on the road in order not to disturb the public in any way. In some communities it was decreed that the offal had to be carried away from the butcher stalls so as to prevent smell and not to endanger health. It should be disposed of into the nearest river, or to some segregated spots outside the community. In fourteenth-century London the butchers were assigned a jetty in the Thames, called the ‘butchers’ bridge’, from which they were supposed to dispose of the entrails from their slaughtered animals.55 If a large river, like the Danube or the Thames, was not at hand but only a smaller one or a brook, the latter could also sometimes be selected for taking the waste from slaughtering, but only where the water was about to flow away from the community.56 Other communities, however, saw waste disposal in the river as a general problem. For the English towns of Norwich, Coventry, and York, Jørgensen found that the actions of the authorities concerning river pollution were far-reaching, from prohibiting disposal of waste into them to the organization of water cleaning operations, river scouring, and dredging projects.57 In Coventry, the town council banned waste disposal in the river nine times between 1421 and 1475.58

53 Faugeron, “Nourrir la ville: L’exemple de la boucherie vénitienne,” 60-1. 54 Ciecieznski, “The Stench of Disease: Public Health and the Environment,” 97. 55 Derek J. Keene, “Issues of Water in Medieval London to c. 1300,” Urban History 28/2 (2001), 168. 56 Gerhard Jaritz, “Entre public et secret: L’espace de la boucherie,” 238; Carr, “Controlling the Butchers,” 457. 57 Jørgensen, “Local Government Responses to Urban River Pollution,” 50. 58 Dolly Jørgensen, “What to Do with Waste? The Challenges of Waste Disposal in Two Late Medieval Towns,” in Living Cities: An Anthology in Urban Environmental History, ed. Mattias Legnér and Sven Lilja (Stockholm: Formas, 2010), 53.

311 Gerhard Jaritz

Based on archaeological evidence, Jørgensen states that in Scandinavia there was less waste disposal on the streets of towns in the late Middle Ages compared to earlier periods.59 With the help of written sources, however, there is always the problem of finding out to what extent and how vigorously the communities enforced their own cleaning requirements and waste disposal prohibitions, as the number of surviving court records that deal with transgressions is regularly rather low.60

59 Jørgensen, “Managing Streets and Gutters,” 560. 60 Ibidem, 559.

312

List of Figures

Cover Image: Inauguration ceremony of the first grandmaster of the order of knights of St George (detail), Carinthian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, c. 1500 (Klagenfurt, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 1.1. The example of the migrating monk Augustin of Heinrichau, 1439 (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.2. The example of the migrating monk Walthasar of Wilhering, 1470–1480 (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.3. Monks migrating to Neuberg, mainly in the first half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.4. Monks migrating to Wilhering, mainly in the second half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.5. Monks migrating away from Wilhering, mainly in the second half of the fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.6. Monks migrating to Lilienfeld, fourteenth–fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 1.7. Monks migrating away from Lilienfeld, fourteenth–fifteenth century (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

List of Figures

Fig. 2.4. The sorcerer: pointed shoes as a signifier of negative connotations The temptation of St Martin by the disguised devil, panel painting, tempera on wood, before 1500 (Göflan/Covelano, South Tyrol, St Martin parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

314 List of Figures

Fig. 3.4. The subjugated husband quarrels with his wife with (empty) banderoles for their spoken words The subjugated husband (Der unterjochte Ehemann), Israhel van Meckenem the Younger (1440/1445–1503), copper engraving, last third of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Alberina Graphische Sammlung, Inv. no. DG 1926/1247; © Albertina, photo: Albertina)

Fig. 3.6. The Latin speaking devil clad as a virgin tries to seduce Saint Justina The temptation of St Justina, from Michael Pacher’s workshop, panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Assling, East Tyrol, St Justina parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 3.7. St Nicholas commands the sea in German to become calm Fresco cycle dedicated to the life of St Nicholas (detail from the choir), Meister Leonhard von Brixen’s workshop, wall-painting, around 1480 (Klerant/Cleran, South Tyrol, St Nicholas filial church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

315 List of Figures

Fig. 3.9. The author of a late medieval fable-collection with book and banderole to the right and the narrator to the left Ulrich Boner/Bonerius (early fourteenth century): Der Edelstein (its last woodcut), first printed in Bamberg, 1461 (Wolfenbüttel, Herzog August Bibliothek, Inv. no. 16. I. Eth. 2o; © HAB, photo: Ulrich Boner: Der Edelstein: Faksimile der ersten Druckausgabe Bamberg 1461. Einleitung von Doris Fouquet. Bde I–II. Stuttgart: Verlag Müller und Schindler, 1972, II. 175)

Fig. 3.10. The chaotic church holiday at Mögelsdorf, image and story told by a narrator Church anniversary holiday at Mögelsdorf – Die Kirchweih zu Mögelsdorf (detail), Barthel Beham (copy by Sebald Beham), with verses by Hans Sachs, woodcut, 1527/1528 (Gotha, Schlossmuseum; © Gotha Schlossmuseum, photo: Keith Moxey: Peasants, Warriors, and Wives. Popular Imagery in the Reformation. Chicago– London: The University of Chicago Press, 1989, 42)

316 List of Figures

Fig. 4.2. The destruction of the idols by St George St George destroys the idols in the church, Friedrich Herlin von Rottenburg (1425/1430–1500), panel painting of a winged altar, tempera on wood, 1462 (Nördlingen, Bavaria, Stadtmuseum im Hl.-Geist Spital, Inv. no. 3b; © Nördlingen Stadtmuseum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

317 List of Figures

Fig. 5.2. To recognize a peasant woman one sign (the straw hat) might be enough. Last Judgment (detail), Austrian master, panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1490 (Heidenreichstein, Lower Austria, Burgmuseum, Kinsky collection; © HBM, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 5.6. The Midianites destroy the fields of Israel. The harvest by Isaac in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 26v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld /Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308–before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 26v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg. Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 26v)

318 List of Figures

Fig. 6.1. The “beautiful” Apollonius von Tyrland Heinrich von Neustadt (13th/14th century): Apollonius von Tyrland (detail, fol. 4v), Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1467 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2886, fol. 4v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 6.2. Paris and Deiphobos Aegidius Colonna (1210–1290): The Trojan War / Historia Troiana (detail: Priamos sends Paris and Deiphobos to Paionia, fol. 56r), Viennese master, Martinus Optifex, coloured painting on pergamen, before 1450 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2773, fol. 56r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

319 List of Figures

Fig. 6.6. The architect who builds the Austin canon abbey of Klosterneuburg The construction of Klosterneuburg (detail), master of the Viennese Heiligenmartyrien, panel painting, tempera on wood, end of the fifteenth century (Vienna, Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Inv. no. 4875; © ÖG Belvedere, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

320 List of Figures

Fig. 6.13. The “world upside-down”: the peasant unsuccessfully tries to represent noble beauty A codex of mixed content, Calendar, Labours of the months, August (detail, fol. 7v), South German or Austrian master, coloured ink drawing on paper, 1475 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 3085, fol. 7v; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Graph 7.1. Social groups represented on the images analysed from the IMAREAL database (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

321 List of Figures

Graph 7.2. The proportation of the types of male dress on the analysed images (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 7.1. The “conservative” dress of an apostle The figure of St Luke on a winged altarpiece (detail), panel painting, tempera on wood, 1510–1520 (Maria Elend/Podgorje, Carinthia, Our Lady parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 7.2. The “fashionable” dress of a torturer The Imprisonment of Christ scene from the St John and Passion altar (detail), Rueland Frueauf the Younger (around 1470–after 1545), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Klosterneuburg, Lower Austria, Stiftssammlungen, Inv. no. GM78; © Stift Klosterneuburg, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Graph 7.3. The correlation of the dress types and the social status (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.4. The correlation of the dress types and the age (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

322 List of Figures

Graph 7.5. The various shoe types: pointed shoes (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.6. The various shoe types: duck-bill shoes (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.7. The various material types: the language of furs (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.8. The various material types: the language of brocade (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Graph 7.9. The hair styles: blond and curly hair (Redrawn from the original by J. Majorossy)

Fig. 7.6. The long and curly hair of St John the Evangelist The Crucifixion of Christ scene from the St John and Passion altar (detail), Rueland Frueauf the Younger (around 1470–after 1545), panel painting, tempera on wood, around 1500 (Klosterneuburg, Lower Austria, Stiftssammlungen, Inv. no. GM78; © Stift Klosterneuburg, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

323 List of Figures

324 List of Figures

(Originally: Mariazell, Upper Styria, Our Lady pilgrimage church, presently: Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 390; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

325 List of Figures

326 List of Figures

Fig. 10.9. The “oriental” murderers of St Thomas Becket The decapitation of St Thomas Becket scene from an altar originally placed in Neustift bei Brixen (detail), Michael Pacher (around 1435– 1498), panel painting, tempera on wood, 1460/1465 (Graz, Styria, Landesmuseum Joanneum, Inv. no. 326; © Joanneum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 12.2. St Valentine heals an epileptic man Scenes from the legend of St Valentine from an altar originally placed in Nördlingen (detail), Bartholomäus Zeitblom (1455/1460– 1518/1522), panel of a winged altarpiece, tempera on wood, c. 1500 (Augsburg, Staatsgalerie im Schaezler-Palais, Altdeutsche Meister, Inv. no. 5370; © Augsburg Staatsgalerie, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

327 List of Figures

328 List of Figures monastery of Sts Rochus and Sebastian, Viennese master, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, beginning of the 15th century (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2783, fol. 93r; © ÖNB, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

329 List of Figures

(Trento, Northern Italy, Castello di Buonconsiglio; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 13.4. The unchaste couple is riding on the impure hog Capital Sins: unchastity (detail), on the northern wall of the church, wall painting, end of the fourteenth century (Levoča, Slovakia, St James parish church; photo: IMAREAL Krems)

330 List of Figures

Fig. 13.8. The dolphin enjoys the music of lutes and flutes and follows the musician Exemplum to the Annunciation of the Shepherds in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 12v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308–before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 12v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 12v)

331 List of Figures

Fig. 13.13. The (female) monkey as a positive example of good family life Horarium in membrana nigra scriptum usui principissae destinatum – Studenbuch der Maria von Burgund (Book of Hours of Mary of Burgundy, also known as the prayer book of Charles the Bold) (marginal illumination, fol. 17r), the Flandrian master of Mary of Burgundy, coloured ink drawings on pergamen, 1470s (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 1857, fol. 17r; © ÖNB, photo: Stundenbuch der Maria von Burgund (Gebetbuch Karls des Kuhnen). Faksimile-Ausgabe. Codices Selecti, XIV. Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1968, fol. 17r)

332 List of Figures

Fig. 14.3. A draconcopes A detail under the scene of Judas’ kisses in Concordantiae caritatis (detail, fol. 79v), Ulrich von Lilienfeld/Ulricus Campililiensis (before 1308– before 1358), coloured ink drawing on pergamen, around 1355 (Lilienfeld, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 151, fol. 79v; © Stift Lilienfeld, photo: Die Concordantiae caritatis des Ulrich von Lilienfeld. Edition des Codex Campililiensis 151 (um 1355). Hgg Rudolf Suntrup, Arnold Angenendt, Volker Honemann. I–II. Münster: Aschendorff, 2010, II. fol. 79v)

Fig. 14.6. The female face and the upper part of the body of the serpent The Fall of Adam and Eve scene on the Notre Dame Cathedral, Western portal, under the statue of the Virgin, carved stone, around 1220 (Paris, Notre Dame cathedral; photo: © Béla Zsolt Szakács, 2018)

333 List of Figures

Fig. 14.12. The virgin-headed scorpion Konrad von Megenberg: Das Buch der Natur (detail, fol. 211r); Diebold Lauber’s workshop, coloured ink drawing on paper; around 1442–1448 (Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. Pal. Germ. 300, fol. 211r; © HUL, photo: DGF – www.digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de)

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Fig. 14.13. A modern “fantasy drawing” of the medieval draconcopedes By the contemporary artist Isaac Horn (© Isaac Horn, 2009; photo: www.deviantart.com, 30.09.2019)

Fig. 15.1. Dog in church: “Thought I’d put this foto up to show that sometimes dogs like to attend church services too.” (© Wendell Schloneger, 2007; photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wendellds/2051009859, 30.09.2019)

Fig. 15.5. On the way to church with dogs and a hunting bird Sebastian Brant (1457/1458–1521): Narrenschiff or Daß Narrenschyff ad Narragoniam, printed by Johann Bergmann von Olpe in Basel / Peter

335 List of Figures

Wagner in Nürnberg (coloured), illustration by Albrecht Dürer (?), woodcut, 1494 (Heidelberg, Universitätsbibliothek, Inv. no. GW05042, fol. 33v; © HUB, photo: DGF – www.digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de; uncoloured woodcut photo: Felix Bobertag (Hg.): Sebastian Brants Narrenschiff. Berlin– Stuttgart: W. Spemann, 1889, 114)

336 List of Figures

337 List of Figures

(Originally in Millstatt, presently: Klagenfurt, Carinthia, Landesmuseum Kärnten – Rudolfinum, Inv. no. 86; © Rudolfinum, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

Fig. 18.1. Defecating boy in an initial of a graduale of Passau rite (Vulgate, Psalm 138:2) Graduale from the Premontratensian monastery of Geras, fol. 153r– 184v: Incipit commune de sanctis primo in virgilia omnis apostoli introitus (initial letter “N” of the Psalm 138:2, fol. 153r), Passau, coloured ink drawing on pergamen, before 1485 (Geras, Lower Austria, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. 6 /HMML 6571/, fol. 153r; © Stift Geras, photo: IMAREAL Krems)

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Index

The index contains names of people and places appearing in the main text, while names appearing in the footnotes and captions are not included. Names of modern authors and artists are set in italics.

A Barclay, Alexander 255 Achatius, saint 105 Basel 93, 305 Adelinus/Aldhelm, English Baumgartenberg (Upper Austria) 7 bishop 229 Bavaria 7, 10, 286 Albert the Great 226 Upper 10 Albrecht, king of Hungary 152 Becket, Thomas, saint 171 Albrecht of Saxonia, duke 23 Bede, Venerable 226-7 Albrecht VI, duke of Austria 25, 154 Beham, Barthel 43 Aldersbach (Bavaria) 7 Beham, Sebald 43 Alighieri, Dante 305 Benesch of Weitmil 23 Alsace 88, 93 Bern 23-5, 174 Andreuccio da Perugia 304 Bernard of Clairvaux, saint 195, 209 Andrieu le Vavasseur 182 Berthold of Regensburg, preacher 18 Aquileia (Italy) 159 Black, Nancy 152 Aristotle 308 Boccaccio, Giovanni 303 Arnoldus de Eldix 293 Bohemia 10-11 Aronberg Lavin, Marylin 111 Bolvig, Axel 112 Artaud, Antonin 299 Bonaventure 226 Ascalon 170 Boner, Ulrich 42 Augustin, monk of Heinrichau Bothell, Washington 244 (Silesia) 7 Bourel, Sandrin 181 Augustine, saint 226 Brandenburg 10 Augsburg 157, 286 Brant, Sebastian 252, 254, 256 Austria 6-7, 9, 11, 15-6, 21, 25, 76, Braunschweig 103 81, 88, 130, 153, 179, 189 Bridget of Sweden, saint 18 Lower 6-7, 88, 153, 179 Brixen (Tyrol) 209, 237 Upper 6-7, 9, 179 Bullinger, Heinrich 287

B C Bamberg 24, 42, 58, 165 Calixtus II, pope 289 Barbara of Cilli, queen of Hungary Camin 292 152-3 Camille, Michael 300

Index

Canterbury 171 F Cantimpré, Thomas de 226, 228-9 Fallsbach (Germany) 179 Carthagus, saint 104 Flore 93 Catherine, saint 55, 87 France 15, 91 Christopher, saint 215 Francis, saint 41, 57, 158 Claire (Clare), saint 57, 158 Franconia 4, 9-10, 78, 286 Claus Wil 180 Frederick Barbarossa, emperor 304 Cologne 290 Frederick III, emperor 82, 99, 104, Columban, saint 104 144, 154, 279-80 Comestor, Petrus 228-9 Fürstenzell (Bavaria) 7 Constance 169, 290, 304 Coventry 310-11 G Cranach, Lucas, the Elder 237 Galen 226 Cusanus, Nicolaus, cardinal 45 George, saint 29, 55, 105 Germany 15, 286 D Central 16, 21 Danube 11, 131, 178-9, 311 South 16, 21, 130 Diepold Schilling, Bernese Southwest 16, 21 chronicler 24, 174 Gonzales County (Texas) 244 Długosz, Jan, the Polish Grünbach (Austria) 178 chronicler 152-3, 155 Guillaume de Bruc 181 Dominique (Dominic), saint 57, 158, 169 H Dürer, Albrecht 254 Hain (Franconia) 286 Halbwachs, Maurice 184 E Hans Rosenplüt of Nuremberg 68, 134 Ebrach (Franconia) 7, 15 Heiligenkreuz (Austria) 7 Eferding (Austria) 178 Henry of Moravia, margrave and Egassell 178 his wife 140 Egypt 55, 174 Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony Eligius, saint 97 and Bavaria 103 Elisabeth of Thuringia of Herrand of Wildonie 156 Hungary, saint 57, 158 Hildesheim (Lower Saxony) 44-5 Ellwangen (Swabia) 180 Hirsau (Baden-Württemberg) 302 England 15, 246, 301 Horn, Isaac 240-1 Erfurt (Thuringia) 304 Hrastovlje (Slovenia) 236 Ernst of Saxonia, duke 23 Hungary 78, 153 Esslingen (Swabia) 169 Upper 191 Europe 15-6, 81, 83, 86, 98, 122, 230 Central 145, 164, 187, 215, 219 I Eugene IV, pope 289 Innocent VIII, pope 289 Innsbruck (Tyrol) 258

340 Index

Iohannes Ernst 158 M Israhel van Meckenhem 34, 36, 256 Mainz (Rhineland) 289-90 Istria 236 Mariazell (Styria) 40, 190 Italy 15, 81, 98 Martin, saint 25, 105, 279 Northern 88 Mauritius, saint 105 Maximilian I, emperor 144-5, 154-5 J Maximilian II, emperor 25 Jacob van Maerlant 230 Mayerling (Lower Austria) 179 Jesus Christ 69, 111, 130, 164, 191, Melk (Austria) 88, 131 196, 203, 215, 233, 252, 254, Messner, Matt 244 256, 287, 306, 308 Meydenbach, Jakob 226 Johann Prüss 228 Michael Beheim 144, 154-5 Johannes Kessler 56-7, 286 Montanari, Massimo 81 John Capistran, saint 24, 58, 165 Moravia 10 John the Evangelist, saint 55, 105, Moxey, Keith 69, 133, 176 126 Mögelsdorf (by Nürnberg) 43 Joseph, saint 37, 69 Jørgensen, Dolly 310 N Justina, saint 39 Naples (Italy) 304 Neuberg (Styria) 6, 10, 14 K Nicholas, saint 40, 55 Klerant (Tyrol) 235 Nicholas V, pope 289 Konrad Fleck 93 Normandy 181 Konrad of Würzburg 156 Norwich (England) 311 Konrad von Megenberg 226, 239 Nuremberg 22, 88, 131, 167, 249 Kramer, Karl-Sigismund 181 O L Olasky, Marvin 149 Lactantius Firmianus, Lucius Oswald Milser 258 Caecilius 18, 52 Ott, Norbert 46 Lambert, saint 45 Langheim (Franconia) 9 P Leipzig (Saxony) 23, 25 Paris (France) 181, 235 Leonard, saint 29, 195 Parzeval 93 Leonhard, count of Görz 98 Pastoureau, Michel 280 Leopold V, duke of Austria 75 Paul, saint 201 Liége (Belgium) 289-90, 293 Paul, abbot of Neuberg 7 Lienhart Frey 180 Paul II, pope 289 Lilienfeld (Austria) 6, 7, 11, 14 Pelplin (Poland) 9 Linz (Upper Austria) 179 Pesez, Jean-Marie 284 Lithuania 88 Piponnier, Françoise 77 London (England) 76, 302, 309-11 Piran (Istria) 309

341 Index

Pius II, pope 289 Stams (Tyrol) 258 Poland 10, 88, 153 Steadman, John M. 242 Pounds, Norman J. G. 249 Stephan of Lilienfeld, abbot 7 Strassburg (Strasbourg) 212, 251 R Styria 4, 6, 81-2, 140 Raitenhaslach (Bavaria) 7 Upper 7, 10 Rein (Styria) 4, 7 Swarczenperger, Hans 178, 180, 182 Reschl, Peter 158 Switzerland 16, 21, 23 Rideman, Peter 287 Roggendorfer, Kaspar 99 T Rottenmann (Styria) 7 Tendrich, Ulrich 157, 286 Thais, saint 58 S Thiemo, saint 170 Saint Gallen (Switzerland) 286 Thomas Aquinas, saint 18, 52, 92 Salzburg (Austria) 289 Thuringia 4 Säusenstein (Austria) 7 Traiskirchen (Lower Austria) 178 Scandinavia 15, 312 Trento (Italy) 136, 139, 209 Scharten (Austria) 178 Trysull, Staffordshire 247 Schauersberg (Rhineland) 178 Twain, Mark 249 Schedel, Hartmann 88, 167-8 Tyrol 106, 164, 209, 237, 258 Schlossberg (Styria) 258 Schongauer, Martin 88 U Schweinfurt (Franconia) 286 Ulm 22, 41 Schwerin (Mecklenburg- Ulrich of Lilienfeld 306 Vorpommern) 291 Utrecht 289-90 Scotland 246 Sebastian, saint 104-5 V Sebastian Franck 29 Valentine, saint 190-1 Seefeld (Tyrol) 258 Valentine of Raetia, saint 190 Seifried Helbling 75 Václav, king of Bohemia 155 Sigismund of Luxemburg, Vienna 144, 154, 158, 249 emperor and king 152 Vincent of Beauvais 226, 228-9 Silesia 7, 10 Virgin Mary, saint 33, 55, 190, 235, Sittichenbach (Thuringia) 4 268, 273 Sixtus IV, pope 289 Vitus, saint 105, 164, 280 Slovakia 211 Slovenia 236 W Söflingen (Baden- Walthasar of Wilhering, monk 7 Württemberg) 41 Washington 149, 244 Spain 15 Wels (Austria) 179 Speyer (Rhineland) 22 Wiener Neustadt (Lower Austria) 99 Spitz (Austria) 178-9 Wilhering (Austria) 6, 7, 11, 14

342 Index

Winkler, family 99 Y Florian 99 York (England) 311 Wittenweiler, Heinrich 304 Władysław I Lokietek, king of Z Poland 155 Zink, Burkhard 157 Władysław III, king of Poland Zwickau (Saxony) 50 153, 155 Zwingli, Huldrych 104-5

343