Rituals for the Dead: Religion and Community in the Medieval University of Paris (Conway Lectures in Medieval Studies) 026810493X, 9780268104931

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RITUALS FOR THE DEAD

MEDIEVA L INSTITUTE UNI VERSITY OF NOTRE DAME

The Conway Lectures in Medieval Studies 2016 The Medieval Institute gratefully acknowledges the generosity of Robert M. Conway and his support for the lecture series and publications resulting from it.

P REV IOUS TITLES P UBLISHED IN THIS SERIES: Paul Strohm Politique: Languages of Statecraft between Chaucer and Shakespeare (2005) Ulrich Horst, O.P. The Dominicans and the Pope: Papal Teaching Authority in the Medieval and Early Modern Thomist Tradition (2006) Rosamond McKitterick Perceptions of the Past in the Early Middle Ages (2006) Jonathan Riley-Smith Templars and Hospitallers as Professed Religious in the Holy Land (2009) A. C. Spearing Medieval Autographies: The “I” of the Text (2012) Barbara Newman Medieval Crossover: Reading the Secular against the Sacred (2013) John Marenbon Abelard in Four Dimensions: A Twelfth-Century Philosopher in His Context and Ours (2013) Sylvia Huot Outsiders: The Humanity and Inhumanity of Giants in Medieval French Prose Romance (2016)

RITUA LS FOR THE DEAD Religion and Community in the Medieval University of Paris

william j. courtenay

University of Notre Dame Press Notre Dame, Indiana

University of Notre Dame Press Notre Dame, Indiana 46556 undpress.nd.edu Copyright © 2019 by the University of Notre Dame All Rights Reserved Published in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Courtenay, William J., author. Title: Rituals for the Dead : Religion and Community in the Medieval University of Paris / William J. Courtenay. Description: Notre Dame, Indiana : University of Notre Dame Press, [2018] | Series: The Conway lectures in medieval studies | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Identifiers: LCCN 2018043811 ( print) | LCCN 2018044730 (ebook) | ISBN 9780268104955 ( pdf ) | ISBN 9780268104962 (epub) | ISBN 9780268104931 ( hardback : alk. paper) | ISBN 026810493X ( hardback : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Université de Paris — History —To 1500. | Christian life — France — Paris — History —To 1500 Classification: LCC LM2165 (ebook) | LCC LM2165 . C68 2018 ( print) | DDC 378.44/361— dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018043811 ∞ This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper). This e-Book was converted from the original source file by a third-party vendor. Readers who notice any formatting, textual, or readability issues are encouraged to contact the publisher at [email protected]

contents

List of Illustrations vii Preface ix Introduction: The University of Paris and Its Communities 1 chapter 1 Death in Paris 7 The University’s Dead 9 By Whom the Bells Toll 14

chapter 2 Allocating Spiritual Rewards: The Power of the Mass for the Souls of the Dead 19 Virtus Missae and Its Development 19 The Money Economy and the Afterlife 25

chapter 3 Candles for Our Lady: The Arts Faculty Nations as Confraternities 37 Candles in the Ceremonies of the Nations 39 The Churches of the Nations 44 Nations as Confraternities 48

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Contents

chapter 4 Gaudy Night: Colleges and Prayers for the Dead 53 Halls and Colleges 54 Medieval Colleges and Memorials for the Dead 57 Medieval Colleges and Islamic Madrasas 75

chapter 5 A Hidden Presence: Women and the University of Paris 81 Women and Higher Education in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries 81 University Wives 88 Women in Trades Connected to the University 91 Women as Founders of Colleges 92

chapter 6 The Growth of Marian Devotion 101 Dedications to the Virgin before 1200 101 The Image of the Virgin on Individual Seals 104 Marian Devotion as Evidenced in College Statutes 119 Marian Iconography on Magisterial Seals 124

chapter 7 Balancing Inequality 131 Notes 137 Selected Bibliography 183 Index of Persons 195 Index of Places and Subjects

199

illustrations

figure 1. Map of Paris Churches and Cemeteries, 1250 10 figure 2. Great Seal of the University of Paris 41 figure 3. Seal of William Alexander, canon at Notre-Dame 42 figure 4. Map of Left Bank of Paris, 1300 44 figure 5. Map of Left Bank of Paris, 1400 57 figure 6. Illumination in Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 6r 61 figure 7. Illumination in Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 8r 62 figure 8. Illumination in Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 10r 63 figure 9. Illumination in Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 7v 65 figure 10. Great Seal of the University of Paris 106 figure 11. Seal of the French nation 107 figure 12. Seal of the Norman nation 108 figure 13. Seal of the Picard nation 108 figure 14. Seal of the English-German nation 109 figure 15. Seal of the faculty of arts 110 figure 16. Seal of the faculty of decrees 110 vii

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figure 17. Seal of the faculty of theology 111 figure 18. Seal of the faculty of medicine 111 figure 19. Counterseal of the Norman nation 113 figure 20. Counterseal of the faculty of decrees 113 figure 21. Counterseal of the faculty of medicine 114 figure 22. Rose Window in North Transept, Chartres Cathedral 115 figure 23. Rose Window in North Transept, Laon Cathedral 115 figure 24. Belle Verrière, South Choir, Chartres Cathedral 116 figure 25. Philosophia, illumination in Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. lat. 1253, f. 3r 117 figure 26. Great Seal of the University of Paris 117 figure 27. Counterseal of the University of Paris 118 figure 28. Counterseal of the University of Paris, close-up 119 figure 29. Seal of the College of Navarre 122 figure 30. Seal of Artaud, prior of the College of Cluny 123 figure 31. Seal of Walter of Gamaches 123 figure 32. Seal of the College of Dormans 124 figure 33. Seal of Peter of Poitiers 125 figure 34. Seal of Simon of Kaine 125 figure 35. Counterseal of the faculty of decrees 125 figure 36. Seal of John of Blanot 125 figure 37. Seal of Henry of Teubuef, canon of Saint-Marcel 126 figure 38. Seal of Henry of Teubuef, canon of Notre-Dame 127 figure 39. Seal of Adenulf of Anagni, canon of Notre-Dame 127 figure 40. Seal of Baldwin of Aumale 128 figure 41. Seal of William Alexander 129 figure 42. Seal of James of Thérines 129 figure 43. Seal of Gerard of Bologna 129

preface

Much of the material in the early chapters of this book was first presented as the Frederick Artz Lecture at Oberlin College in September 2000 at the invitation of Marcia Colish. This material was again given as a lecture at the University of Leuven in November 2009 and at the Mid-America Medieval Association ( MAMA) conference at Conception Abbey, Missouri, in February 2010. On each of those occasions I benefited from questions and comments from those in attendance. The invitation to give the Conway Lectures at the Medieval Institute, University of Notre Dame, allowed me the opportunity to revisit and expand the topic for publication. In the course of research the mixture of topics encountered took me into parts of medieval Paris that are no longer visible today but can be mentally reconstructed from documentary and archaeological evidence. A number of people have aided me in the process of rethinking and expanding the topic of this book or offered encouragement that led me to do so. I am indebted to Richard Cross, whose comment on Duns Scotus’s quodlibetal question on the dedication of masses led me to explore that topic more thoroughly; to Margot Fassler, who pointed me in the direction of work on chants and liturgy in twelfth- to fourteenthcentury Paris and whose The Virgin of Chartres was not only an inspiration, but provided an image crucial to an argument in two chapters; to Rachel Fulton-Brown, whose suggestions as a reader for Speculum of my article on the seals of Parisian masters led me to expand my research on Marian piety, which has in turn informed several parts of this ix

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book; to Thierry Kouamé, whose willingness to answer questions on Parisian colleges was always useful; to Thomas Sullivan, whose knowledge of the religious convents and colleges in Paris was of considerable help; and to Caroline Bourlet, who as director for the project on the Livres des tailles under Philippe le Bel provided access to the database and responded generously to my questions. For the images of seals in the book, both those I was permitted to photograph and those provided to me, I am grateful for the courtesy and assistance across many years of staff members at the Archives nationales, especially M. Ghislain Brunel, directeur des publics; M. Clément Blanc, conservateur de la section des sceaux; and M. Jean-François Moufflet, conservateur du patrimoine, département du Moyen Âge et de l’Ancien Régime. I am also grateful to Mme Jacqueline Artier, conservateur du département des Manuscrits et livres anciens de la Bibliothèque de la Sorbonne, for permission to consult and photograph the seal fragments from that collection, one of which is included here; to Dr. Christoph Mackert, head of the Handschriftenabteilung at the Universitätsbibliothek Leipzig, for providing the image of Philosophia in Ms 1253; to Henri de Feraudy, for allowing me to use his photograph of the image of the Virgin in the Belle Verrière window at Chartres; and to Jean-Luc Chassel, for images of seals connected to Parisian colleges. I am indebted to Alicia Iverson and the Cartography Lab of the University of Wisconsin, through the support of its present director, Tanya Buckingham, for the three maps of Paris providing the locations of places and institutions discussed in the book. Several links to websites with additional visual images are provided in the notes, but there are no guarantees that these links will remain active. Finally, I wish to thank those at the University of Notre Dame Press for their help in preparing the work for publication, particularly Stephen Little, Wendy McMillen, Susan Berger, and Sheila Berg. The lectures and the resulting book are dedicated to the memory of Astrik L. Gabriel, former director of the Medieval Institute at Notre Dame. The history of medieval universities, particularly the University of Paris, was Abbot Gabriel’s principal area of research, and he built a major collection of sources and secondary literature on the history of universities, which is now housed in the library of the Medieval Institute and in the Special Collections and Rare Books section of Hesburgh

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Library. I first met Canon Gabriel, later Abbot Gabriel, during my graduate studies when he spent a year at Harvard as the first Chauncy Stillman Professor of Roman Catholic Studies. He had a lifelong interest in the daily life of the University of Paris, the nations in the faculty of arts for which he edited the Receptors’ Book of the English-German nation, the colleges, on which he wrote several articles as well as a book on Ave Maria College, and his unfinished project to publish the statutes of all the colleges at Paris, now being carried forward to completion. The research library Gabriel assembled as director as well as his papers and the source materials he left to Notre Dame constitute perhaps the best collection of material on the history of medieval universities anywhere in the world.

Introduction The University of Paris and Its Communities

In his Pour un autre Moyen Âge Jacques Le Goff brought together a number of his articles that approached medieval society from a different, less common perspective, as the title suggests.1 Similarly, in the following chapters, none previously published, features of the medieval University of Paris rarely encountered in the secondary literature are explored, indeed reconfigured. Much of the literature on medieval universities, from Heinrich Denifle through the contributions of Hastings Rashdall, Lynn Thorndike, Gaines Post, and Pearl Kibre, concentrated on questions of origins and early development, constitutional structure, curriculum and studies, and the role of colleges.2 Universities were places of intellectual endeavor as well as professional training for careers in the church, in medicine, or in law. Other historians emphasized student daily life, the frequenting of taverns, gambling, acts of violence, and student pleas for money and the suspicious responses of parents and patrons. And more recently there has been an emphasis on the regional and social background of students and the careers of graduates.3 But although it has long been acknowledged that students and masters were 1

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clerics and that most of them had careers in the church, the religious side of university life in Paris has received almost no attention.4 Thus, in what follows, those standard themes and descriptions, while true in their own way, have been set aside or at least balanced with a different perspective on the university that explores the religious elements in the daily life of Parisian scholars. Before addressing that, a different way of looking at or reconfiguring the University of Paris needs to be considered. We tend to think of a university community as one entity. One is studying at, teaching at, or is part of a specific university, which in this book is the medieval University of Paris. From one perspective it is legitimate to speak about a university or a university community as a whole. The enjoyment of scholarly privileges and protections was only available for those who were recognized as members of the university. Put another way, those privileges were institutional privileges and applied to the individual only because he belonged to the university as a corporation of masters and students (magistri et scolares Parisienses). To be a student at the university, to have what was called scolaritas, meant that one was acknowledged as a student by the master under whom one studied, who in turn belonged to the guild of masters. From another and more accurate perspective, however, the university was a fictional entity, having standing in law as a corporate personality with rights and privileges, but it was in fact a consortium, a collection of different groupings that were the basis of self-identity and social interaction. One thought of oneself as belonging to a faculty (i.e., one of the four scholarly disciplines, of philosophy or the liberal arts, theology, decrees or canon law, and medicine), and, within the faculty of arts, as belonging to a nation. Of those two, the faculty and the nation, the nation was the principal unit of affiliation for secular clerics within the university. All secular masters of theology or medicine, and many in law, had earlier studied and reigned (i.e., taught) in the faculty of arts and belonged to one of its nations. The oaths taken by those being licensed in arts required obedience to the rector and the proctor of the nation regardless of their future state, even promotion to bachelor or master in a higher faculty.5 And students in theology and medicine often continued to teach in the faculty of arts to support themselves while studying in a higher faculty. When they incepted in the higher faculty as masters of theology, canon law, or medicine, their social network often remained

Introduction

3

the one formed at the level of the nation, both those who, like themselves, had gone on to higher studies, and their former colleagues who remained active in the nation. There is very little evidence that masters in a higher faculty regularly associated with each other apart from meetings to conduct the business of the faculty, although they may well have done so, but there is considerable evidence that masters in a nation met almost weekly to eat and drink in different taverns at the expense of the nation, which included students in a higher faculty who were still teaching in arts. Nations also on occasion celebrated the achievement of a former master when he incepted as a doctor in a higher faculty and presumably had maintained his association with his former colleagues.6 It is usually said that the faculty of arts at Paris was divided into four nations. A more accurate description would be to say that the faculty of arts was itself a corporate persona made up of four largely autonomous units, the nations.7 A master was a member of the faculty of arts only because he was, first and foremost, a member of a nation. The nation was the unit of self-identification and association, just as, in a weaker sense, departments are in American colleges and universities. Modern academic departments, however, are based on a recognized scholarly discipline, while the basis for self-identification in the nations at a medieval university was regional, based on place of origin. Although a student in arts did not have a choice of which nation he would join or be affiliated with when he came to Paris to study, we can assume most were comfortable in the company of fellow Landsmänner, to use the German term, ones whose vernacular language or Latin accent, topographical attachments and associations, and even liturgical practices were familiar. This attachment to a local region, or terroir, subdivided nations into subgroups. This is easy to comprehend in the case of the English nation, which contained masters and students from Scotland, Scandinavia, the Netherlands, Germany, and Eastern Europe, but it was even the case for the other nations. The French nation divided itself into five provinces: the diocese of Paris and the ecclesiastical provinces of Sens, Reims, Tours, and Bourges. Within the Picard nation the closest associations were often diocesan, dominated by Beauvais and Amiens in the south and Arras, Tournai, and Cambrai in the north. The same was true for the Norman nation and the important topographical difference between upper and lower Normandy. From the standpoint of religious practices, those from these local regions usually had an attachment to a

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particular saint, St. Martin for those from the province of Tours and St. Remy for those from the region of Reims, St. Firmin for those from the diocese of Amiens, St. Piat for those from the diocese of Tournai, and St. Romain for those from Rouen.8 One’s nation, and even its subgroupings, determined the group of masters under whom one studied, the teachers whose lectures one attended for instruction in logic and natural and moral philosophy, and the master under whom one would be sponsored for the baccalaureate (determination), licensing, and inception as a master of arts.9 It probably also influenced where and with whom one sought accommodations while a resident in Paris. And in terms of a postuniversity career back home, personal ties formed at the university could prove very useful in helping one obtain a benefice or find a patron. There were, of course, masters and students who belonged to a religious order, whether mendicant, monastic, or canonical. But the vast majority of those at the University of Paris, and all of those in the faculty of arts, were secular clerics, tonsured at least at the lowest level of holy orders, and it is with them that the following chapters are concerned. From the standpoint of the frequency of association, again it is the nation that mattered. Meetings of the university as a whole (general assemblies) might occur two or three times a year for a matter that concerned the entire group of masters. Faculties met more frequently, in the case of the faculty of arts at least four times each year to elect a rector and as needed to address an issue that concerned masters in all four nations. Meetings of a nation in the faculty of arts, however, met several times a month to conduct its business and several times a week for religious services. There was occasional tension between faculties and between nations, most visible perhaps at the election of a rector. One’s primary association, allegiance, and self-identification within the faculty of arts, therefore, was to the small group of fifteen to forty masters, depending on the size of the nation, with whom one associated on a regular basis professionally and socially. Similarly, self-identification for a student was with the group of students studying under and sometimes living in rooms rented or owned by the master under whom one was studying. To a large degree, therefore, the University of Paris and even the faculty of arts were legal fictions, collective personalities that existed in documented privileges, statutes, and regulations but not as social groups with whom one associated on a regular basis.

Introduction

5

A second reconfiguration of the university community at Paris is to look not at the written products of the classroom and disputations from which the intellectual history of that university is constructed, and not even at what masters and students thought they were doing or what was most important to them, even if one were able to determine that. Rather, the approach of this book is to look at how those in the nations and colleges at Paris spent their time. Much of that time was devoted to academic study, lecturing or attending lectures, disputing or attending disputations, and, for some, preparing written versions of lectures and disputations for circulation and preservation. And that may have been how many if not most of them understood why they were at a university and what they thought were their most important activities beyond social interaction and, of course, eating and sleeping. But a surprising amount of time was spent in religious activities, and much of that was concerned with rituals for the dead, which has received very little attention in the scholarly literature on the University of Paris or any other university. That religious dimension of university life, which, if the statutes were observed, took up between 20 and 30 percent of their time, and for one college 50 percent of each day. “If the statutes were observed” is crucial. University statutes as well as those of faculties, nations, and colleges speak of required religious services and activities, revealing the intentions and expectations of legislating masters and founders of colleges regarding the daily life in a nation or college. If the records of the English-German nation in the faculty of arts in the fourteenth century is any guide, religious services were regularly held and the quality of the services was important to the nation. An occasional absence by a master, if he had sufficient reason, was excusable, but nonattendance was not an option in an institution whose spiritual health and well-being depended on its religious devotion. About the regularity of student attendance we know nothing. How those religious practices were experienced by masters and students, what it meant to them personally, is essentially unknowable. Similarly, college statutes reflect what founders thought the daily life of college members should be like and the religious obligations they required to be observed in order to retain a fellowship, but not what college members thought was most important or how they reacted to or experienced those religious activities. Students’ letters rarely discuss such matters, which in any case are formulaic and at best tell us what students wanted a parent or patron

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to believe, not necessarily what was true.10 How religion affected the life of university scholars at Paris emotionally in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries is, unfortunately, impossible to uncover save for a few statements statistically too small in number to reflect general attitudes. Even so, some sources that we do have, such as the Proctors’ Book of the English-German nation, reveal a larger amount of religious activity in the daily life of Parisian scholars than has been acknowledged. What is presented in this book is thus a different picture of the University of Paris from that which is usually presented in the historical literature, both because it may have been thought less interesting, and because much of the evidence is hidden in parts of the documentation that have rarely been noticed or discussed. I piece together evidence from many different sources in order to construct another side, a lessknown side, of the medieval university community at Paris with regard to its religious life. The importance of the nations in the faculty of arts for the social and religious life of masters and students is the subject of the third chapter, which is preceded by a chapter on the rituals surrounding death that influenced so many weekly activities and subunits within the university community and a chapter on the power of the mass to aid souls in purgatory. One of the university’s subunits, the colleges, is the focus of chapter 4. Although colleges affected only a small group of masters and students, daily life in colleges by the fourteenth century, according to the statutes, was intensely concerned with memorials and rituals for the dead. The next two chapters concern neglected themes but ones related to the principal theme of the book. Chapter 5 examines the role of women within the university community, some of them as patrons, donors, and founders of colleges, whose attitudes toward death and the afterlife did not differ from their male counterparts. Chapter 6 is on the growth of Marian piety in the university community. This was not simply a way of seeking Mary’s blessing as patron of scholarship, but of acknowledging her role as protector of scholars now and in the hour of death. The final chapter brings together evidence from the previous chapters on balancing inequality between masters and students, rich and poor, founders and fellows in observances concerned with death as well as rewards and punishments in the afterlife.

chapter 1

Death in Paris

In the earliest surviving statutes of the University of Paris, which were promulgated in 1215 by the papal legate and former regent master of theology, Robert of Courson, a remarkable amount of attention is given to funerals and burials of masters and students who died while teaching or studying at Paris.1 Most of the statutes concerned academic dress, the curriculum, books to be expounded and commented on in arts and those not to be a subject for lectures, times of lectures and required years of study in the faculties of both arts and theology, including the minimum ages for promotion as master of arts and doctor of theology. But some 20 percent of the document concerned rituals for the dead.2 Given the age group of students and masters at medieval universities, from about fourteen to forty, since not many masters continued to teach for more than a few years, one might well assume that death was rare, not part of the immediate experience of those involved in higher education. Death might enter one’s consciousness in a letter from home announcing the death of a family member, or one might see a body being transported on a cart or a funeral procession for a town resident. One might know of a student who died from a beating or knife wounds or illness. While it is impossible to know the number of deaths of masters and 7

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students in thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Paris, death was undoubtedly a more common occurrence than in student communities today.3 Among masters in arts and theology, the only faculties that are mentioned in the statutes of 1215,4 there may have been no more than one to three deaths per year. Among students, considering accidents, illness, and violence among a much larger number of persons, there would have been far more. But given the size of the university community, many hundreds at the opening of the thirteenth century and thousands in the fourteenth century, the number of deaths would have been comparatively small but still significant enough to have an impact. It is surprising, therefore, that one finds so little discussion of death and dying in the literature on medieval universities except for the assumed impact of the Black Death and subsequent outbreaks of plague on medieval Paris, Oxford, or Bologna.5 These statutes concerning death while teaching or studying at Paris are surprisingly detailed. They state that if any scholar, meaning a student, in arts or theology should die, masters of arts—that is, professors in the faculty of arts— should be in attendance at the funeral and burial, half on one occasion and the other half on the next.6 They should not leave until the burial ceremony is completed. If a master of arts or theology should die, all masters were required to take part in the vigils, reading the psalms according to the custom of the church where the vigil was held, until the middle of the night or through the greater part of the night. And on the day in which a master was buried, all masters were required to attend, and no one was permitted to lecture or dispute.7 More is going on in this passage than simply respect for the dead within the university community. Death transforms an academic community into a religious community for the cult of the dead. This includes vigils, processions, and masses that ensure a proper funeral, along with prayers for the soul of the departed. The only distinction between a master and a student in death is that all masters were required to take part in the funeral of a master while the student got a reduced but still substantial body of magisterial mourners. And it is particularly interesting that the statute requires the presence of masters at the burial of a student, not the presence of students at the funeral and burial of a master, reversing the order of rank that one might normally expect, although their presence may have been assumed. If the funerals of the privileged

Death in Paris

9

in medieval society were staged to display the wealth and importance of the deceased, with a long line of mourners and the omnipresent poor receiving alms, this statute, drafted to reinforce what may have long been customary practice, provided the poorest student with a full complement of mourners drawn not only from his peers but also from his academic superiors.

The University’s Dead The clauses on death in the statutes of 1215 say nothing about where masters and students who died at Paris were buried, although they reveal the expectation that funerals would be held in different churches and that the liturgical elements would be in accordance with the practice of those churches. In most cases funerals would probably have been held in the church of the parish in which the master or student resided, and burial would have taken place in that church’s cemetery. All parish churches appear to have had or acquired cemeteries in the course of the thirteenth century. Adrien Friedmann’s study of the parish structure of medieval and early modern Paris mentioned cemeteries for ten parish churches, two monasteries or convents, one priory, and one hospital, the Hôtel-Dieu, in addition to the cemetery of Holy Innocents.8 His map of late thirteenth-century Paris shows cemeteries for an additional five parish churches and the Templar convent.9 Those known from other sources add another five.10 One of the earliest examples of the burial of a master is that of Amaury de Bene, master of arts, who died in 1206 and was initially buried in a cemetery near the Cluniac priory of Saint-Martin-desChamps on the northern edge of Paris outside the walls.11 There was a cemetery on the south side of the priory church that may have accepted burials of those outside the monastic communit y, but the one mentioned was probably the cemetery of the parish chapel of Saint-Nicolasdes-Champs on the southern edge of the priory’s property on rue SaintMartin (fig. 1).12 Although the chapel belonged to the priory, it had served the religious needs of those resident in the bourg of the abbey since the early twelfth century. Until a new cemetery for the parish was created in 1220 farther to the south by William of Seignelay, bishop

Figure 1. Paris Churches and Cemeteries, 1250.

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of Paris, parishioners were buried in the garden of the priory, near the chapel of Saint-Nicolas.13 This suggests the possibility that Amaury may have been a resident of the faubourg of Saint-Martin, outside what was then the northern wall of Paris. Whether he taught there as well, or, as seems more likely, nearer the cathedral and the Latin Quarter, is not known. Amaury was a popular teacher who disputed theological questions and commented on texts in the arts curriculum.14 The controversial nature of his teachings led to his condemnation at Rome and his public recantation at Paris around 1205, after which he ceased to teach, perhaps because his license to teach was suspended. He soon fell ill and died, presumably in 1206.15 In light of his place of burial, his funeral, which his students may well have attended, would probably have taken place in the chapel of Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs before burial in the garden of the priory. Whether or not the restriction of the number of regent masters of theology at Paris by Innocent III in 1207 was in reaction to Amaury’s teaching and those influenced by him, Innocent’s action was a restriction on who was permitted to lecture or dispute on theological issues as much as a corporate limitation or monopoly on the number of masters of theology allowed to practice.16 The crisis over Amaury’s teaching came to a head in 1210 with the condemnation and execution of some of his followers. His body was exhumed from the cemetery in which it was buried and cast onto unconsecrated ground.17 In the course of the twelfth century, long before the incorporation of masters and students into a university, members of the academic community attended services and made confession at two religious communities, that of Saint-Victor and Sainte-Geneviève, as well as in all probability at the parish churches of Saint-Séverin and Saint-Benoît and the churches of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre near the Seine and SaintÉtienne-des-Gréz near the top of Mont-Sainte-Geneviève. The Augustinian canons at Saint-Victor in particular developed a special mission of caring for the souls of scholars who were temporarily in Paris for purposes of study.18 That connection gradually led to the burial of students and masters in the cemeteries of those monasteries, and since in most cases those burials did not deprive parishes of income, serious conflicts between parish churches and religious communities did not emerge until later.

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That change came in the early thirteenth century. A third cemetery belonging to a religious order came to play a prominent role in the burial of teachers and students at Paris, that of the Dominican convent of Saint-Jacques. A small burial ground may have been created when in 1209 it became a hospice and chapel for pilgrims and scholars, before the Dominicans were installed there in August 1218 and most of the property and chapel were deeded to them in 1221.19 According to the terms of the 1221 donation by John, dean of Saint-Quentin, who had been given the property in 1209, the dean was to have a place in the choir of the church at Saint-Jacques, to have the right to sit in chapter and eat in the refectory when he wished, to be buried in the church at Saint-Jacques, and to have prayers said for him regularly by the friars, in addition to a special mass on the anniversary of his death.20 According to the terms in a university document at the same time, granting to the Dominicans their rights in the Saint-Jacques property, other masters in the faculty of theology could also be buried at Saint-Jacques in the chapter room, while masters in the other faculties could be buried in the cloister.21 And because the university was involved as a donor, alongside the dean of Saint-Quentin, a special service for the preservation of the university and its members was to be held at Saint-Jacques each year on 7 December, and once a year, on 3 February, a service was to be held for the souls of deceased university members, both services attended by many if not most university masters.22 This connection of the Dominican community with the university community in Paris led Nathalie Gorochov to suggest that Saint-Jacques became effectively the parish church for the university.23 It was probably the terms of the university’s donation that caused a conflict with the church of Saint-Benoît, the parish in which SaintJacques was located, over the creation of a cemetery and burial rights. Granting burial in the church at Saint-Jacques to the dean of SaintQuentin, as stipulated in his donation, would be a one-time event. Granting rights of burial in the convent or adjacent cemetery to any master and possibly students who might be residents of the parish was another matter. Even before the two donations of 1221, Pope Honorius III, in July 1220, had granted the Dominicans the right to have a cemetery, presumably for the burial of Dominican friars who died at Paris.24 But the conflict with the parish of Saint-Benoît apparently delayed the

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creation of the cemetery, or at least delayed the right to bury those who did not belong to the order. A letter of Pope Gregory IX on 1 December 1227, at the request of the Paris convent and the master general of the order, again granted permission to the Dominicans at SaintJacques for burials in their churches of friars and others, which the cartulary of Saint-Jacques interpreted as authorization for a cemetery at Saint-Jacques.25 A second papal letter, on 10 February 1231, also found in the cartulary, specifically authorized the creation of a cemetery for the burial of friars as well as those associated with or supporting the community, the familia.26 Building a chapel or church soon after the foundation of a new religious convent was relatively straightforward and did not usually involve papal permission, although it is likely that permission from the bishop was required. It was understood that a religious communit y needed a chapel for its daily offices. The Dominicans at Saint-Jacques inherited a chapel, which they soon expanded into a much larger church. The Franciscans likewise built their church within a few years of their foundation. The Val-des-Écoliers order is reputed to have built their church in a matter of months, starting it in October 1229, the year of foundation, and consecrating the completed church in July 1230.27 The right to bury members of those communities in their church, chapter room, or cloister also seems to have gone unchallenged. But allowing nonmembers to attend services in those churches, to be confessed, or to be buried there was another matter. The most likely laypersons to seek and be accepted for burial in the church, cloister, or cemetery of a religious order were wealthy donors, whose legacy was also sought by the church of the parish in which they lived. Because of the opposition of parish rectors and the bishop, the right to preach or celebrate mass for the laity, to hear confession, and to bury nonmembers in a cemetery of the convent were highly controversial in the thirteenth century and usually required a dispensation from the pope, as did the right to build a bell tower. As the letters of donation to Saint-Jacques from the dean of SaintQuentin and the university make clear, the location of burial reflected the status of those buried. The principal donor was to be buried in the church, masters of theology in the chapter room, and masters in the other faculties in the cloister or in the cemetery when created. Even

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within the church different locations mattered. The most sought-after locations were near the high altar where the Eucharist was celebrated, or near the relics of a saint. Other locations in the church were under the floor of the nave and side aisles, or in a private chapel or chantry along a side aisle. Burial in the cloister or in a cemetery adjacent to the church was of lesser importance but was still linked to the religious community and its liturgical services. It has been argued that burial in a cemetery was, as Howard Williams expressed it, “a strategy of forgetting.”28 Although most burials in medieval cemeteries did not have gravestones, whether upright or flat, knowledge of where remains were intered was retained by the family and the parish curate, lest a new interment disturb the grave site of another.29 However difficult it might be to preserve the memory of individuals buried in a cemetery across generations, intentional forgetting was not a factor. The proximity of their physical remains in sacred ground adjacent to a community that offered prayers and masses for the dead was what mattered.

By Whom the Bells Toll Just as with the right to have a cemetery, the right of a Parisian convent to have a bell tower, the height of the tower, and the number and size of the bells were issues of contention with parish churches. Requests to a pope by religious foundations for permission to celebrate mass in their chapel or church, to have a bell tower, and to have a cemetery were frequent in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Saint-Jacques had obtained all three papal privileges before the middle of the thirteenth century, and alongside the bells of Notre-Dame the bells of Saint-Jacques were used to summon students to lectures or mark the time of a meeting of a nation or faculty or activities in a college.30 Statutes of many colleges refer to the sound of the bells of Saint-Jacques as the moment for ringing their own bells or beginning mass in the college chapel. At some point before the middle of the fourteenth century the Dominicans seem to have obtained a papal privilege that other bell towers would not be constructed within a certain distance from Saint-Jacques.31 The Franciscans were slower in gaining these privileges, and although the services

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in their church, including preaching, the celebration of mass, and hearing confession, were open to the laity by papal permission, and eventually the privilege of a bell tower was obtained, burials, including the burial of Queen Joan of Navarre, took place in the church and cloister of the convent. Sainte-Catherine’s, the priory of Val-des-Écoliers at Paris, did obtain a cemetery for the burial of their members and others as long as they did not belong to the parish of Saint-Paul.32 By the second half of the thirteenth century, most mendicant, monastic, or canonical communities in Paris had a church and an area for the burial of members of their community, as well as some nonmembers who had arranged for burial there. Presumably some thought it improved their chances in the afterlife or at the Resurrection if they were in the company of those who had lived a cloistered, chaste life. Curates of parish churches, however, backed up by the bishop of Paris, objected to this infringement on their rights of burial of deceased parishioners, including masters and students, especially perhaps if these individuals came from families of means.33 The Cluniac house of studies, the Collège de Cluny, illustrates the problems encountered by a foundation that was both an academic institution with students resident for a limited time and a religious community with older members. In 1278, a decade and a half after the foundation of the college, the abbot of Cluny, Yves de Chausant, asked Pope Nicholas III for permission to celebrate the divine office with chanting, to build a bell tower, and to create a cemetery for the burial of students and members of the community who died at Paris.34 Neither the bell tower nor the cemetery had been achieved by 1286, and Honorius IV granted permission again.35 In response to a new petition in 1346 — apparently necessary because of continuing opposition, especially from the Dominicans at Saint-Jacques — Pope Clement VI regranted permission for the bell tower and cemetery. The latter would ease the burden on the monks of carrying their dead in procession through the entire city of Paris, ridiculed by the laity, in order to bury them in the cemetery of the Cluniac priory of Saint-Martin-des-Champs, which presumably they had been forced to do for almost a century.36 Secular colleges also asked for bell towers, although not cemeteries distinct from that of a nearby parish church or burial in the college chapel. The statutes of the Collège de Bourgogne in 1332 envisioned a

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chapel that would hold divine services and anniversary masses and a bell tower to sound for matins, mass, vespers, meals, and announcing the closing of the door of the college before nightfall.37 In 1343 the Collège de la Sorbonne petitioned Pope Clement VI for the right to grant an indulgence to benefactors and visitors to their chapel on the feasts of the Virgin Mary, St. Nicholas, and St. Catherine, and that divine offices were to be celebrated in the chapel with bells sounded from their own bell tower.38 Their petition was granted in September 1343 but with the specification that the bell tower was to have only one bell, and not a large one.39 The bell tower, whether adjacent or above the west facade, was completed before 1356.40 Presumably, before 1343 only prayer services and anniversary masses were held in the chapel, and regular religious services were available in the nearby parish church of SaintBenoît. The Collège de Justice, founded in 1358, also had its own bells rung for services in its chapel, as did the Collège de Narbonne.41 The numerous anniversary masses for founders and donors of both religious convents and colleges, along with observance of the canonical hours or prayers, meant that services were held daily in all these chapels and churches. By the middle of the fourteenth century, with the erection of so many bell towers on the Left Bank and probably elsewhere throughout the city, the skyline of Paris would have looked very different from what it did in the twelfth and early thirteenth century. There was probably not a convent or college in Paris by the early fourteenth century that did not allow a few burials of founders and major donors in their church or chapel, marking their grave site with an inscribed or sculptured paving stone. And for those individuals there would have been a mass on the anniversary of their death and personal mention at other services throughout the year. Others in those communities, the less distinguished and students who died at Paris but whose contribution to the community during life was not on the same level as an abbot, prior, regent master, or major donor, were not buried in the church or cloister.42 In such instances they were buried either in a nearby parish cemetery, in the case of colleges and those not affiliated with a college or order, or in a cemetery specific to the religious order to which the scholar belonged, preferably nearby, as the petitions of the Collège de Cluny illustrate. In the case of a student who was murdered and for whom a chaplaincy was created from the assets of the murderer, he

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would be remembered in the prayers and masses of the chaplain at that church, even as his bodily remains would have previously been buried elsewhere. In addition to the prayers and vigils for a master or student who died at Paris in order to help his soul in its passage from this life into the next, the funeral mass was central. For some within the university community that mass was the first of an ongoing series of masses guaranteeing that his memory remained alive and that the beneficial power of the mass would speed the passage of the soul through purgatory. That twofold benefit, remembrance among the living and reduction of pain and time in purgatory, lay at the heart of all anniversary masses and masses dedicated to a named individual.43 The dean of Saint-Quentin, by the terms of his donation of Saint-Jacques to the Dominicans, sought to ensure that he would receive most if not all the benefit of his anniversary mass. The same assumption was held by patrons and donors, both men and women, who provided support for scholars in return for future masses for the repose of their souls.44 How that benefit was distributed, whether to only one person or to others as well, and whether the advantage of the rich over the poor in funding masses on their behalf was equitable and just were topics that occupied theologians, particularly those at Paris, in the twelfth to fourteenth century. Those issues are the subject of the next chapter.

chapter 2

Allocating Spiritual Rewards The Power of the Mass for the Souls of the Dead

Concern for the dead at the University of Paris was not limited to the funeral and burial of a deceased master or student or of donors and founders of colleges and houses of study who wished to be buried there. University communities played a major role in keeping their memory alive and helping their souls in the afterlife through prayers and masses for the dead.1

Virtus Missae and Its Development By the fifth century it was believed that the eucharistic sacrifice at the altar not only fed the spiritual life of those who partook of it, the assembled congregation, but also held a special, almost magical power, the virtus missae, that could benefit absent loved ones or those in peril as well as those who had died. With regard to the dead, it was generally accepted on the basis of Paul that one was judged on what one had done in life, whether good or evil, and that one could no longer merit after 19

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death.2 The ledger of deeds, good and bad, was closed at that point. As Augustine put it in his letter on the care for the dead, “With regard to merit through which these things benefit [the soul], if none have been done in life, in vane is it sought after this life.”3 But in his Enchiridion Augustine remarked: It should not be denied that the souls of the dead are helped by the piety of the living, who arrange for the sacrifice of the mediator to be offered for them, or give alms in the church on their behalf. But these services are of advantage only to those who during their lives merited that these things could benefit them later. . . . Therefore, when sacrifices of the altar or alms are offered for all the baptized dead, they are acts of grace for the very good, propitiations for those who are not very bad, and for the very bad, although they are of no assistance, they are consolations of some kind for the living.4

Thus, if one did not die in a state of mortal sin and so be numbered among the damned, the process of purging the soul from sin after death could be aided by the prayers and acts of the living on behalf of the dead, including alms giving and especially the sacrifice of the mass. With regard to the living, Gregory the Great at the end of the sixth century in his Dialogues mentioned examples of the power of the eucharistic consecration to ease the troubles of the living when, unknown to them, a mass was celebrated by others on their behalf. He relates the story of a bishop who arranged for a mass to be said, “for the absolution of his soul,” for a lost mariner assumed to have died, and later discovered that the mariner had been rescued at the same time the priest “did sacrifice for him unto God, the host of the holy oblation.”5 Another story from Gregory’s Dialogues concerns a nobleman who was captured and chained by his enemies. “As he was held in fetters for a long time and his wife believed him to be dead, she had Masses sung for his soul every day. And every time the sacred Host was offered up for him, his fetters fell from him. When he finally returned home and told his wife what had happened, remembering the days and hours at which she had Mass celebrated for him, she recognized that he was freed from his fetters at the same time as the sacrament was being offered for him.”6

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In the case of the baptized dead, Gregory expressed the Pauline and Augustinian view that the sacrifice on the altar benefited only those who, on the basis of their lives, deserved such benefits. As that same passage continued, “The holy sacrifice profits those persons after death, who in their lifetime lived that such good works as were done by their friends for them might be available for their souls after they had left this world.”7 Prayers also had the power to affect the condition of souls after death. Cardinal Peter Damian, writing between 1063 and 1072, related the story of a poor woman who prayed to the Virgin Mary on behalf of a benefactor who had given her his cloak. Acknowledging that during life the man had been generous to the poor and was a devoted protector of holy places, the Virgin freed him from the chains in which he was held by demons and immediately allowed his entry into heaven. His location in the dream, whether in hell or in purgatory, was not specified. In light of the increasing role of the Virgin in the religious life of Europe in the twelfth and subsequent centuries, her role as judge with the power to determine the fate of human souls on her own accord is significant (see ch. 6).8 By the eleventh century the care for the dead had become a major mission of monasteries and houses of canons.9 As Peter Brown observed, already by the seventh century “the landscape of Western Europe [was] dotted with funerary churches and monasteries, each intensely committed to prayer for the souls of the departed.”10 The “reforms” of religious houses in the tenth to twelfth century in which monks were driven out and replaced by canons, or canons were driven out and replaced by monks, and which sometimes were used to extend the territorial influence of a king or nobleman, were usually couched in the language of moral reform. But those “reforms” also had a liturgical dimension, a concern over the quality or effectiveness of the prayers and oblations offered by those communities on behalf of the dead that would be most pleasing to God. Not only were these religious communities “powerhouses of prayer on behalf of the souls of the departed,” as Brown expressed it,11 but the language regarding prayer and masses had also grown more extensive and diversified. Suffrages (suffragia) covered all forms of support or succor for those who had died, such as prayers, alms giving, recitation of psalms, and commissioning of masses. It was also a term that described

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an intercession of a saint with God, Christ, or the Virgin Mary on behalf of a departed soul when so requested by the living. The term refrigeria, originally meaning simply rest and refreshment for souls in the afterlife and based on the practice of a family gathering around the gravesite of a departed member for a common meal, became another term for prayers for the dead, which brought relief to them and consolation to the living. The terminology concerning masses similarly underwent expansion. By the tenth and eleventh centuries septimus and septenarium were terms within monastic communities for an obituary mass for the deceased on the seventh day after death. In the same period tricenarium or tricennalis referred, again largely within monastic communities, to a sequence of thirty masses for a departed soul, one each day for thirty days.12 The term goes back to a story related by Gregory the Great in which a monk by the name of Justus in Gregory’s monastery privately kept three gold coins but on dying confessed his sin to Abbot Gregory. Gregory initially refused him the consolation of the community and burial in the cemetery of the monastery and had him buried in a dung heap along with his money. But later, thirty days after his death, Gregory repented his severity and for a period of thirty days had a mass said each day for the monk.13 Today a contract for thirty masses on consecutive days is known as a Gregorian or trental. These terms not only described the religious act, but were also used for the payment made to have these services performed. In most cases the masses commissioned would be private, without communicants except for the priest himself. From the standpoint of the one paying for the trental, it was a package deal, one payment for thirty masses rather than payments made daily or weekly. The benefit worked while the person paying got on with other matters. For those who endowed masses before death for the repose of their souls, that was even more of an effective one-time payment that continued to benefit them in perpetuity and could be spread among others if and when the departed soul was released from purgatory. One of the principal reasons for the extended role of monasteries in prayer and masses for the dead in the eighth to eleventh century, in addition to the spiritual and material reciprocity between noble donors and monastic communities, was that village and town churches were unable

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to meet the demand. Although in the ninth century there are instances of priests, and even Pope Leo III, saying more than one mass a day, accepted practice and eventually church law limited each priest and each altar to one mass per day except in certain circumstances.14 Most villages had only one priest, and towns had more depending on the number of churches, but there were still a limited number of priests in comparison to the number of families who wished to give aid to their deceased relatives. By contrast, monasteries, from the seventh century on, had an increasing number of monks ordained as priests and expanded the number of oratories and chapels on monastic property as well as the number of altars in the monastic church, both around the apse and along the side aisles, in order to provide space for several masses each day.15 Monasteries exchanged necrologies in the ninth and tenth centuries so that prayers for deceased monks could be multiplied and sent news of a death so that multiple masses could immediately be held for his soul, as well as for a period of thirty days after his death. What was done for their own was also done for laity who had given land or income or in some way added to the endowment of a monastery or community of regular canons whose liturgical life functioned similarly. By the twelfth and thirteenth centuries these practices for the repose of souls were widespread across Europe and theologians at Paris encouraged the practice of endowing prayers and masses for the dead. Hugh of St. Victor in De sacramentis cited those passages from Augustine and Gregory mentioned above and added his own observation that since we do not truly know the ultimate destiny of those who died, whether in a state of grace and in purgatory or unrepentant of mortal sin and therefore damned, “we should perform works for all the regenerated, in order that no one of those may be omitted to whom these benefits can and should come. For better that these things be superfluous to those for whom they are neither an obstruction nor a benefit than be lacking to those for whom they are a benefit.”16 Awareness of the implications of the church’s teaching on the end of meriting at death had throughout the early Middle Ages encouraged those with wealth to endow ecclesiastical institutions, especially monasteries, during their lifetime. The targets or recipients of such spiritual “estate planning” changed in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries with the creation of hospitals for pilgrims and the urban and rural poor and

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housing for lepers outside villages, the building and endowing of collegiate churches, the creation of houses for poor scholars in university towns, and endowments to mendicant communities as well as other religious groups. In this same period the donor class expanded beyond the landed nobility to include wealthy merchants, prelates and church dignitaries, and those holding high positions in royal administration. While fulfilling an act of charit y during one’s lifetime was clearly meritorious, the very fact that someone provided for such after death in a will, whether or not sufficient resources were there after debts were cleared, counted as a meritorious act before death.17 Where the beliefs or assumptions of the faithful did not precisely correspond with the opinions of theologians was on the question of the qualitative value of anniversary and other masses celebrated on behalf of one named individual in comparison to masses said for a group of named individuals or for the souls of the dead in general.18 Numerous passages in the New Testament suggest that those with equal moral records will be rewarded equally. If anything, the poor were more deserving of reward than the rich, as the Sermon on the Mount and some of the parables of Jesus stated. Yet, if the process of atoning for sins and purging the soul to make the individual acceptable to God was similar to the payment of debts, the more the twelfth and thirteenth century became a money economy and the idea of purgatory took its definitive shape, the more the life of penance and atonement for sin began to look like a balance sheet. And theologians had to do their own balancing act: affirming that those with equal records during life would receive the same treatment after death without undercutting the argument for providing prayers and masses for the dead, an activity in which the rich had a distinct advantage and the church benefited financially.19 Peter Lombard in his Sentences, written at Paris in the late 1140s, posed that very question in the form of two persons, equally but moderately good, one rich and the other poor, where the rich person could benefit after death from special prayers and alms given on his behalf by the living, while the other had the benefit only of prayers in common for all the dead. Lombard resolved this question of justice by saying that the rich person who received these special prayers in addition to common prayers did not receive more ultimate benefits than the poor man, but he did receive the benefits more quickly; that is, he passed through purgatory sooner.20

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The Money Economy and the Afterlife At the end of the twelfth century, as Western Europe increasingly moved toward a money economy, the belief in equal rewards for comparable moral lives, whether rich or poor, and the belief that Christ’s sacrifice as reenacted in the mass benefited all the faithful came into conflict with an understanding of the practice of providing masses for the benefit of individual souls as cost accounting or bookkeeping. There were two issues here. One was the problem of maintaining equity between rich and poor who had led similar lives with regard to merit while continuing to affirm that there were special rewards to those who could endow prayers and masses that benefited themselves or family members. The second issue was whether the value of prayers and masses for a specific named individual benefited only that one person or whether the benefit was shared with other souls, and if so, whether that diluted the value for the individual. Both questions had to some extent occupied the attention of theologians since the time of Augustine and Gregory the Great, but they reached a new level of concern at Paris around 1200.21 Peter the Chanter addressed these issues in part 2 of his Summa de sacramentis.22 He cited a text from Gratian’s Decretum attributed to Jerome that a mass sung for a hundred souls grants to each the same reward as a mass sung for one soul.23 Peter rejected that view on the grounds that it is not equitable that one should pay more and not receive more benefit.24 He later quoted the same passage and granted validity in the case of a common mass, but if one individual is named, then it is more beneficial to him than to others.25 Peter’s world was one in which you only get what you pay for. Debt repayments can be made for oneself or for another, but the same payment cannot be applied in full to both debts. Peter gives the example of a father and son who vow to go to Compostella, but the father dies before he can fulfill his promise. Can the son take the pilgrimage and have it apply equally to himself and his father? Again Peter’s answer is no, just as in the case of a mass celebrated for the father to which the names of others are added.26 The principal person named receives more than others.27 His understanding of masses and prayers for the dead, of easing the pains or reducing the time in purgatory, is very much a matter of payments for a debt, which one can do for oneself or for others on a bookkeeping basis.

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Jacques Le Goff credits Peter as “the man who first integrated purgatory into theological teaching.”28 In the matter of equity between the rich and the poor, Peter favored Lombard’s solution that equivalent moral records received the same reward but that the rich, through endowments and payments for prayers and masses, had an advantage, acceptable to him, that could reduce the time in purgatory for themselves and their loved ones.29 Peter is one of the first to pose the question of what happens if a priest accepts several contracts to say a mass for a specific departed soul and attempts to fulfill those contacts by saying one mass for all. In Peter’s example the priest has made a contract to offer thirty masses on consecutive days for a deceased person and afterwards accepts a second trental contract, as well as a third. Can he fulfill those contracts by offering one mass each day for all three deceased? His answer is no. The promise of the priest is not fulfilled by one mass for many but only by one mass, or group of masses, as promised to each one.30 Prepositinus, a few years later, attempted to resolve this question of equity in rewards for the rich and the poor, or the one and the many, by saying that special masses and other acts of the rich on behalf of their dead also benefited other souls in purgatory according to their degree of merit in life without diminishing the benefit to the rich. He used the analogy of a candle lit for a rich man, which also gives light to others in the same house based on the quality of their eyesight, which for some might even be better than that of the rich man and therefore would benefit them more.31 The example could be used to say that pious acts and supplications on behalf of one deceased person benefit unnamed relatives of the deceased, his household or familia, but it was intended by Prepositinus to apply to all souls in purgatory to the degree that they were deserving. Each individual received the same amount of light, and what one received did not reduce the amount others received. Their ability to benefit from the light depended on the quality of their eyesight, in other words, the extent to which they merited. Prepositinus made a variation on the analogy that distinguished the very good, the truly holy who bypassed purgatory, and the very bad, the damned, who were beyond help. For those two groups the candle served no purpose, because one group did not need it and the other could not profit from it. In this version the rich man is blind and thus receives no benefit whatsoever from the candle, although it may be lit

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in his honor, while others in the house benefit based on the quality of their eyesight, that is, their degree of merit.32 The generation of theologians active at Paris in 1190 –1220 marked a turning point in the value and effect of masses commissioned on behalf of the dead. Prepositinus was the last theologian to subscribe fully to the view, attributed to Jerome and cited in Gratian’s Decretum, that a mass for one person could help pay the debt of others in purgatory. Despite the fact that he came from northern Italy and would have been familiar with a money economy and debt payment, there was something inherently selfish and uncharitable about the position that the benefit of a mass would not be shared with those who could not afford to pay for it. Prepositinus’s candle analogy caught the attention of later theologians because it had the advantage of making the argument that the full spiritual benefit of a mass could simultaneously be given to one soul and to others easier to grasp. The analogy was reworked many times to make it more understandable and convincing to the laity that their loved one would receive the full benefit even if others also received a benefit. But many subsequent theologians at Paris rejected Prepositinus’s argument on the grounds that it departed from earlier church practice and theological opinion, which closely linked the pious donor and intended recipient, and probably also because Prepositinus’s view might undercut the motivation for the rich to endow prayers and masses for their deceased relatives and friends. If all souls in purgatory benefited as much as the person to whom the mass was dedicated, that was patently unfair. In a money economy one payment that was applied to many debts reduced the amount paid to each debt according to the number into which it was divided. If the intention was to help one specific departed soul, the benefit should not be diluted by being spread among unknown and unintended recipients. The idea that the total amount could be applied to each debt was bad banking practice and defrauded the lender. At the same time there was a long-standing belief among theologians that the economy of salvation worked by different rules, that Christ’s death paid the debt of original sin for all humankind who believed in him. The dean of Saint-Quentin, discussed in chapter 1, was a master of theology, actively teaching at Paris in the first decade of the thirteenth century at the same time that Prepositinus was a regent master in theology and chancellor at Notre-Dame. In his letter of donation the dean

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tried to ensure that he would benefit personally from the prayers and anniversary masses offered on his behalf in perpetuity by the Dominican community at Saint-Jacques, regardless of equal reward for morally equal lives. By being named in the prayers and services of the friars throughout the year, in addition to a mass on the anniversary of his death, his memory would be preserved among the living and he would thus avoid the “second death” of being forgotten.33 And because his donation was made during his lifetime, it constituted a meritorious act while he lived, not something simply done on his behalf by others after his death. The prayers and masses would help speed his passage through purgatory and would help ease the pains that might afflict his soul after death. Another contemporary master of theology, William of Auxerre, was remembered annually by a vigil at Saint-Jacques attended by university masters, presumably on the anniversary of his death, although that may have been because of his reputation within the university community rather than as a result of a contribution on behalf of the Dominicans.34 Masters who died while teaching at Paris but had not, through donations or reputation, been thought worthy of special, individual recognition would be collectively remembered in the annual memorial service on 3 February. Anniversary masses posed a special problem. According to canon law a priest was limited to one mass per day, which could be celebrated only in the morning, and only one mass per day could be said at the same altar except on Sundays, as necessity dictated. Anniversary masses, by definition, are day-specific, and the obligation had no expiration date. Moreover, at the time a parish church or a religious or college community accepted an endowment in return for such masses on behalf of a donor, the day of death was not yet known. As the number of such commitments increased over time, always being added to the list without any subtractions, the anniversary mass for each individual could only be fulfilled by celebrating one mass for all those who had died on that date, which was probably not the intention of most donors. Theologically this should not have been a problem, since the full value of a mass can be applied to each. Yet even theologians in a money economy seem to have preferred their anniversary mass to be for themselves alone. Did the dean of Saint-Quentin believe that he would have the full benefit of his anniversary mass, whose spiritual and purgatorial value

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would not be diluted by being shared with others? He certainly would have been aware of the views of Prepositinus as well as the discussions of the value of masses and prayers for the dead in Hugh of St. Victor, Peter Lombard, and theologians such as Peter the Chanter in the previous generation. He not only desired that his donation of Saint-Jacques to the Dominicans would benefit him personally in life and after his death, as the stipulations in his donation make clear, but he and other wealthy donors may also have believed that prayers and masses for a single named individual were more effective than those for an anonymous group, even if God knows the names of those for whom a general memorial mass and prayers are being offered. He may also have believed that the value of prayers and masses was in inverse proportion to the number of names or intentions attached to it, so that its salvific benefit would be diminished accordingly. He certainly thought the place of burial mattered. The closer one was buried to the main altar of a church, particularly if the church belonged to a religious, praying community, the better off one would be in the afterlife.35 And because these acts were arranged during his lifetime, they qualified for merit far more than acts done by others after his death.36 In the course of the thirteenth century the effect of a money economy on the question of equity in allocating the benefits of prayers and masses for the dead became increasingly more evident.37 For example, Guy of Orchelles and William of Auxerre, writing late in the second decade, considered whether suffrages reduced the penalty of those in purgatory proportional to the size of the debt, which would advantage the greater sinner, or as a set amount, and how that related to the question of equity.38 Both acknowledged the advantage of those who could provide for their loved ones, pro amicis, but rejected the proportional argument because a set amount of payment reduced a set amount of debt. A similar influence of concepts of debt reduction can be seen at midcentury in Bonaventure’s discussion of Prepositinus’s argument that suffrages intended for one soul benefited others in purgatory without reducing the benefit for any one person. In the example of the rich man’s candle, the benefit was in proportion to the quality of vision that each one in the household possessed.39 Bonaventure added a variation on Prepositinus’s candle analogy by posing the case of a text read for the benefit of one person but heard by many others, each of whom

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benefited according to his ability to understand it, even if the one for whom the text was read understood less than the others.40 Bonaventure rejected this argument because it went against the opinion of Augustine and because the same reward or amount if given to many is divided among them.41 The same gold coin cannot reduce the debt to multiple creditors in the same amount.42 Shortly after Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas took up the same issue, first in his commentary on the Sentences, then later in a quodlibetal question. In his first treatment in his lectures on the Sentences, he cited the opinion of Prepositinus, which would seem to deny any special advantage to the soul for whom special prayers and masses were offered.43 Others, he said, maintained that suffrages benefited specifically the one for whom they were made.44 Thomas’s answer is that suffrages work in two ways. On the one hand, because of the power of charity, suffrages benefit those who are deserving if by the nature of their lives they are more receptive. On the other hand, if the living person intends his prayers or the masses he has commissioned to apply to only one of the dead, then that individual soul receives the full benefit, just as when someone pays a debt for another person. While wishing to affirm the bond of charity within the Christian community that favors the distribution of benefits, his conclusion is more in keeping with the position of Bonaventure. Thomas returned to this question in his second series of quodlibetal questions during Advent 1269.45 Although he does not name Prepositinus, he again cites the example of a rich man’s candle that also provides light for others in the household. Unfortunately, this time he uses Prepositinus’s second version of the candle analogy in which the rich man is blind and the others in the house benefit according to the less impaired vision of each.46 In that example Prepositinus meant that the rich blind man could not profit from the candle at all because he was one of the damned. The first example Prepositinus gave is the one that makes the point that others can profit from the candle as much as or more than the rich man. As before, Thomas rejects that position and again argues that suffrages benefit in two ways, one on the basis of the bond of charity among Christians and another on the basis of the intention of the one making the suffrages.47 While both dimensions apply, one by way of merit and the other by way of satisfaction, suffrages that reduce the pains of purgatory primarily benefit only the one

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for whom they are intended, and the more suffrages are made, the more quickly that soul is released from purgatory, even if other souls are burdened with the same amount of sin.48 Three years after Thomas commented on the Sentences at Paris another Dominican, Peter of Tarantasia, addressed the same question of whether suffrages made specifically for one soul benefited others who were similarly deserving. He opted for the position that special suffrages profited only the one for whom they were made. He justified the advantage of the rich on the grounds that a payment for one debt cannot also be applied to other debts.49 The rules of debt reduction among the living apply to debt repayment for the dead. Special suffrages, which the church had long recognized, would be pointless if debt repayment worked in any other way.50 Peter also made a variation on Prepositinus’s analogy of a lighted candle. In his version the candle is lit in the dining room of a rich man in his honor, but it also gives light to his table companions.51 Peter grants some value to both arguments since suffrages work in two ways, either by strengthening the power of the one being weighed down or by reducing the weight. In the first way, it benefits both the living and their dead companions in accordance with the degree of love. In the second way, through the satisfaction or payment of debt, the benefit is in accordance with the intention of the one paying.52 On the question of whether suffrages made for many profit just as much as suffrages made for one, he applied the same solution.53 Again he says suffrages work in two ways, by consoling and strengthening the living and the dead (eorum in purgatorio sociis) or by satisfying a debt. In the latter way they benefit only the one for whom they done.54 Prepositinus was one of the last exponents of the view that in the spiritual realm one act can pay in full the debt of many individuals. Christ’s death on the cross removed the stain of original sin from all souls who believe in him and are baptized. For all but the martyrs and saints, who came into the presence of God immediately at death, there would be individual sins from which the soul needed to be purified before it was worthy to be with God, but the major debt, the one from Adam that each person bore individually, was cleared through baptism by Christ’s act of atonement and salvation. So if one act can pay many individual debts, why could not the saving value of prayers and masses be spread equally among the many? It is surprising that in expounding

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on this solution no one seems to have used the Gospel example of the miracle of the loaves and fishes feeding the multitude, which would have worked well, as would the parable of the laborers in the vineyard in which the just payment for the number of hours worked was abandoned in favor of the employer’s right to pay everyone the same, regardless of how long they had worked. The principal question for Lombard and for others before 1270 was whether prayers and masses for one departed soul with rich relatives could or should benefit that person more than another soul burdened with the same number and quality of sins: the case of different rewards for two souls that were equally sinful or moderately good but whose family resources differed. The discussion attempted to reassure the poor that their departed would receive the same reward as those of the rich while reassuring the rich that their efforts were not in vain, that it was possible for them to bring relief to the soul of their loved one in purgatory more quickly. In the second half of the thirteenth century the discussion shifted to the value of each individual mass. The question became whether a mass said for several departed souls benefited each as much as a mass said for only one soul: the case of the shortchanging priest. This reformulated question was still concerned with whether the benefits of a mass for a departed soul could equally benefit many and pay the full amount of several debts, since the oblation on the altar is the reenactment of Christ’s sacrifice. But here the monetary perspective was front and center. It was not the general issue of equity and justice in the postmortem benefits for the rich and the poor. It was the specific issue of whether the beneficial power of the mass was diluted by being applied to or divided among many souls. It also raised the question of fraud if the benefit was divided. The theological question was comparable to a consilium, a legal opinion, which could advise priests on what they should do if caught in that situation. It dealt with the very real problem that the multiplication of masses for individuals, anniversary or otherwise, came up against the restriction of only one mass for the dead per priest per day. Multiple dry masses, without consecration and transubstantiation, were not a solution, since the power of the mass lay in the consecration of the host. The monetary argument that the full value of the mass could be credited to the account of a departed soul only if it was for that soul alone

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won out against the spiritual argument that the full value could be equally applied to many individual debts. As the thirteenth century progressed, the issue of equity, that the prayers of the faithful and the oblations at the altar should benefit all departed souls who merited their help according to their level of sin, continued to clash with the issue of justice, that those who paid for prayers and masses on behalf of departed family members and friends should receive the full benefit of what they paid for. This problem was usually cast in the form of the question of whether a priest could fulfill his multiple obligations to those who had paid him to say masses for specific individuals by saying one mass for all of them. Gerard of Abbeville, in one of his last quodlibetal questions, dated probably in Advent 1270, asked the question in that form.55 For him the problem should be approached from three standpoints: the devotion of those making the offering, the promise given by the priest to each, and the efficacy of the sacrament. With regard to the first, many suffrages should be encouraged because the more the faithful did so, the sooner the souls of the dead would be released from purgatory, citing the opinions of Gregory the Great as contained in the Decretum.56 On the second issue, Gerard believed that if the priest has been paid to say a mass for one individual and has promised to do so, then he cannot combine that obligation into one mass for several individuals; otherwise he is committing fraud, not to the living, interestingly enough, but to the dead.57 But if the priest has not expressly promised that the mass would be only for one soul, one mass can be applied to the benefit of several souls, presumably with full benefit to each.58 That last point is underscored by his treatment of the efficacy of the sacrament. Gerard is committed to a spiritual, nonmonetary understanding of sacramental efficacy in which the full value of the mass can be applied to the debt of many souls. One mass, celebrated daily, suffices for all for whom it is intended.59 As an example he repeats the story in Gregory the Great’s Dialogues, cited earlier, in which the monk who kept three gold coins was buried outside the monastic cemetery but whose soul was liberated from purgatory through masses offered for thirty days. The point of the story for Gerard is not Gregory’s change of heart but the incommensurable relationship between sin and divine forgiveness. As later theologians expressed it, God rewards far more than what one has truly merited.60

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John Peckham, a Franciscan trained at Paris and later archbishop of Canterbury, included this issue in the deliberations of the Council of Lambeth in London in 1281. If an anniversay mass is established for one person, that obligation cannot be satisfied by a mass said for two or more persons. Citing the statement attributed to Jerome in the Decretum, that a mass said for a hundred souls is no less valuable than a mass said for one,61 that applies to masses said for those with an anxious heart. For although the benefit of Christ’s sacrifice is of infinite power, masses that have been paid to be said for one person cannot be fulfilled by a mass said for more than that person.62 Around 1283 Richard of Mediavilla, a Franciscan commenting on the Sentences at Paris, followed Bonaventure’s discussion of whether special masses profited only the one for whom they were said or other souls in purgatory as well.63 He cited Prepositinus by name and rejected the arguments of the candle and the reader or lecturer, which distributed the benefits among many, on the grounds that debt repayment or reduction does not work that way. The benefits of candlelight or reading out loud work by necessity of nature, whereas suffrages work because of the intention of the one praying or saying mass.64 If said for one soul, then the benefit is for that one soul. Otherwise the custom of the church that encourages suffrages for individual souls would be useless. Godfrey of Fontaines treated the same question at far greater length in his Quodlibet V, disputed in 1288.65 He posed the case of a priest who obliged himself to say masses for the souls of different people and had accepted money for each, asking whether the value each soul received if one mass was said for all was equivalent to the value of a mass said for each soul separately. Put another way, is the priest able to fulfill his obligations by saying one mass for all of them?66 For Godfrey, the value of a mass can be applied in full to more than one individual, since the power of the sacrifice is infinite and not divided into portions on the basis of the number of persons for whom it is said.67 But if a priest accepts money from individuals who believe the mass will be celebrated only for their loved one, he cannot fulfill those obligations through one mass unless it is explained beforehand to those requesting the mass.68 Godfrey was particularly concerned about the problem created by the accumulation of anniversary masses such that a parish priest or a religious institution eventually had an obligation for a mass for several in-

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dividual souls on the same day.69 This was a problem not only for individual priests, but for cathedral and collegiate churches, for monastic and mendicant communities, and, by the late thirteenth century, for colleges. If the purpose of the mass was solely for the reduction of time or pain in purgatory, then masses could be said by different priests on the same day. But an anniversary mass was equally for the remembrance of the individual by the community in which he had lived and to which he had donated. The community as a whole would be unlikely to attend multiple anniversary masses on the same day. In those cases a single mass had to be dedicated to the remembrance and benefit of all who had died on that day and for whom a contractual obligation existed. That the full power of the mass was applied to each person remembered needed to be explained to the relatives of the deceased. Where the date was not specified and the contractual arrangement was for one mass for one deceased soul, then that obligation could and should be honored as soon as was feasible.70 The issues discussed by these theologians continued to be matters of concern into and beyond the fourteenth century. The same question posed by Godfrey, namely, whether a priest contractually obliged to say a mass for each of two persons could fulfill both obligations with one mass, was treated by John Duns Scotus, Herveus Natalis, Durand of Saint-Pourçain, Peter of Palude, and even Gabriel Biel toward the end of the fifteenth century.71 Among the theologians after 1300 disputing questions relating to masses for the dead, Duns Scotus was the most innovative and influential. His immediate audience was academic, but his analysis was intended more broadly to address the concerns of priests, who in turn could comfort and reassure the laity.72 Much of Duns Scotus’s discussion adopts the view that the mass in some way benefits all Christians as well as those for whom the priest expresses a special intention. The mass is efficacious not only by reason of the one performing it, ex opere operantis, the intention of the priest, but also by reason of the sacrifice that has already been accomplished, ex opere operato.73 In contrast to the view that the power of the mass is either for many, generaliter, or for one, specialiter, Duns Scotus argued for a middle position, that the same benefit by reason of intention can be applied to more than one individual without dividing that benefit.74 Without mentioning Prepositinus or Bonaventure

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by name, he used the example of the candle and the voice of a reader to show how a benefit can be provided to many without diminution.75 Rather than bending in the direction of a strict quid pro quo relationship between payment for and benefit from a mass in which the full benefit is given to one or divided into parts among many, Duns Scotus emphasized the multiplication of benefits in things spiritual.76 In explaining how the same light or sound can benefit individuals according to their ability to merit based on how they lived, he reworked Prepositinus’s and Bonaventure’s analogies. Both light and sound generate species that radiate spherically, so that the farther away one is from the light or sound, the less one sees or hears. The degree of merit is still the basis for receiving the benefit, but in Duns Scotus’s description it is the distance from the candle or voice rather than the quality of sight and hearing that makes the difference.77 The issue of prayers and masses for the dead was not only a question debated by theologians to explain church custom and belief to the laity. It was also the conceptual framework that surrounded university practice regarding care for the dead that was embodied in the statutes of 1215. Robert of Courson, who promulgated the statutes, was a theologian who belonged to the circle of Peter the Chanter and a contemporary of Prepositinus and John, dean of Saint-Quentin. Theologians struggled to explain and justify the meaning and value of the practices involved in the care for the dead that university members shared with the rest of society. Behind the academic institutions that made up the University of Paris in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, specifically, the nations in the faculty of arts and the colleges and religious houses of study, was a common element that has gone largely unnoticed: the religious element grounded in and expressed by the services connected to the prayers and masses for the dead.

chapter 3

Candles for Our Lady The Arts Faculty Nations as Confraternities

As mentioned in the introduction, a nation was an organization or grouping of masters and their students in the faculty of arts who came from the same region or, in the case of the English nation and the Bourges province of the French nation, from several different areas of Europe. Although students in arts were required to belong to a nation and to be enrolled with a master, the business of the nation was conducted by the masters alone, and only the masters attended its meetings. At Paris by the second quarter of the thirteenth century there were four nations, the French, Picard, Norman, and English, probably reflecting the largest regional groupings of scholars at Paris in the late twelfth and early thirteenth century. Those from other regions, too few in number to create a nation of their own, were worked into that structure. Those from southern Europe, primarily Spain and Italy, and the few from the eastern Mediterranean were placed in the Bourges province of the French nation, while those from Scotland, Scandinavia, Germany, and Eastern Europe became members of the English nation, which on the eve of the Hundred Years’ War (the beginning of the extant records of the Proctors’ Book just mentioned) had few English students or masters left. 37

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For secular masters, the nation was their principal academic environment while at the University of Paris, an affiliation that lasted from seven to twenty years or more. Belonging to a nation not only coincided with their years of study and teaching in the faculty of arts, but continued while studying and being promoted in a higher faculty. There was nothing comparable for students in the religious studia, who were at the Paris convent of their order for three or four years to prepare for the lectorate and, for a chosen few, another three or four years at a later date to become a master in theology or canon law. Except for those friars or monks whose home convent was that in Paris, Paris was only a relatively brief interlude in their religious career. While the meetings of a nation, which took place several times a month in addition to weekly religious services and convivialities, constituted the principal social environment for arts masters, the social environment for arts students was within a subgroup of a nation. The nations were large organizations. By the early fourteenth century, the French and Picard nations may have contained 500 or more students and up to 40 masters, and for the Norman nation a slightly smaller number. The English nation was the smallest, with some 12 to 15 masters and perhaps 150 students. The immediate social environment of arts students would have been with fellow students studying under the master with whom they enrolled upon arrival. Although the master chosen had to belong to the nation, unless the regent masters allowed an exception, most students seem to have chosen someone who came from the same region within that nation, if such a master was currently teaching.1 Thus, for the English nation, students from Scotland generally chose a master from Scotland, those from Germany or the Low Countries a master from those regions, and the same for students from Scandinavia. The French nation was officially divided into five provinces: Paris and the four archiepiscopal provinces of Sens, Reims, Tours, and Bourges. Students in the Picard and Norman nations similarly chose to associate with others from a local region. The Proctors’ Book of the English nation, surviving back to the 1330s, gives a running account of promotions to the levels of bachelor, licentiate, and master, as well as deliberations and decisions made by the masters in the nation during each month-long term of the elected head of the nation, known as a proctor. These documents have no surviving parallels for the other nations at Paris or any other university for the

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fourteenth century, and the richness of their contents was one of the reasons Heinrich Denifle and Émile Chatelain edited them at the end of the nineteenth century and several historians, such as Gray C. Boyce, Madelaine Toulouse, and Mineo Tanaka, devoted an entire book to them.2

Candles in the Ceremonies of the Nations One of the things included in the Proctors’ Book was the financial accounting of the receptor, or treasurer, for the nation, noting the accumulated income from promotions, fines, and assessments as well as the expenditures of the nation. Unlike the office of proctor, which changed monthly during the academic year unless the incumbent was reelected, the receptor was elected for a year and reported to his fellow masters in the nation several times each year. Income flowed in during the winter and spring in the form of payments, scaled according to the financial resources of the individual, from advanced students “determining” during Lent and thus becoming bachelors, from those being licensed in December or at other times to teach, and those incepting as masters, usually between March and June. Except for fees collected from those elected to the office of proctor, receptor, or examiner, payments from rental of property owned by the nation, and fines or late payments, very little income accrued between July and December. Expenditures, on the other hand, were spread more evenly across the year, the three principal ones being payments to its employees, the beadles, who led processions, acted as messengers, and fulfilled other functions; expenses connected to the upkeep or rental of schools in which masters taught; and candles for Our Lady. Other expenses included providing food and drink for the masters on a regular basis at numerous taverns on the Left Bank in Paris, after vespers on Friday, after mass on Saturday, and after saints’ feasts commemorated by the nation, which were many.3 The frequency and extent of bibulosity of the masters almost seems at times to have taken precedence over other expenses of the nation. There are some recurring entries in the Proctors’ Book of the English nation that are worth more attention than they have received. The entries concern the expense of providing lighting or candles for nostra Domina, or more frequently for the Blessed Virgin Mary.4 The record does not specify the precise purpose of the candles. That would have

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been self-evident to all members of the nation but unfortunately not to us. It was an expense to which all members of the nation were obligated. Denifle affirmed that the payments were to support the lighting at Notre-Dame, the cathedral of Paris on the Île-de-la-Cité, but he gave no account of what that meant, or why the English nation saw that as a regular obligation.5 One of the meanings of the word used in all these entries, luminaria (it is also one of the meanings of the word lumen), is a tribute paid to a church to provide lighting, which in the medieval period obviously meant tapers or candles or oil for lamps.6 But there is no evidence that the English nation had ever incurred a tributary obligation to the cathedral of Paris, and nothing in the records of the cathedral chapter, which are quite extensive and detailed for the same period as the Proctors’ Book of the English nation, mention any such payments being received or a tributary relationship with a nation in the faculty of arts. Boyce, following Denifle’s interpretation, was similarly vague on the matter, remarking that these entries represented “necessary payments for candles and oils used in Notre Dame.”7 Nostra Domina, of course, can refer to the cathedral of Notre-Dame, or it can refer simply to Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary. The term occurs frequently in the Proctors’ Book of the English nation in the first sense when noting the place of examination and licensing of masters by the chancellor of the cathedral, or marking the time of a meeting or the beginning of lectures by the bells of Notre-Dame rung for the canonical hours. While the words nostra Domina are also used occasionally in referring to this payment for candles, “pro luminaribus nostre Domine,” the usual expression is “lights or candles for the Blessed Virgin [or the Blessed Mary].”8 Thus, although it is possible that these payments were a contribution to the lighting at services at the main altar at Notre-Dame or elsewhere in the cathedral, or were simply a tax levied by the cathedral chapter on the English nation dating back to a time when secular Parisian scholars were attached to the cathedral school or under the jurisdiction of the bishop and chancellor, it is more likely that they served a special purpose connected with Marian devotion. The wording of the entries in fact suggests that the payments were viewed by the nation as supplying candles and lamp oil not for the cathedral but for Our Lady, either at Notre-Dame or, more likely, at another church frequented by members of the nation.9 Similarly, one of the expenses listed for an Oxford student in 1424 was “pro lumine Sancti Nicholai,” which, in the ab-

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Figure 2. Great Seal of the University of Paris attached to a document of 1292 (Paris, AnF, K 964, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

sence of an Oxford church dedicated to St. Nicholas, can only mean the cost of a candle used in the celebration of the feast of St. Nicholas, presumably at the university church of St. Mary Virgin.10 Statements made in the register in reference to the candles for the Virgin Mary make the latter interpretation all but certain. Each of the nations, as well as the entire university, was under the protection of Mary, a relationship acknowledged by her central place on the great seal of the university (fig. 2), on the seals of the nations, and on the seals of individual masters, such as that of William Alexander, canon at Notre-Dame and regent master of theology at the beginning of the fourteenth century (fig. 3). Apart from Christmas, Easter, Pentecost,

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Figure 3. Seal of Master William Alexander, canon at Notre-Dame, attached to a document of 1308 (Paris, AnF, J 413, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Corpus Christi, Ascension, and All Saints, each nation celebrated eight major feasts throughout the year, five for Mary, one for St. Nicholas, one for St. Catherine, and one for a saint particular to each nation, which in the case of the English nation was St. Edmund King and Martyr.11 The dates for allocating money to the fund for candles correspond mostly to the dates of the Marian feasts. If this expenditure was an obligatory payment to the cathedral of Notre-Dame, it is more likely it would have been made only once or twice a year. When the corporate celebration of the five Marian feasts by the nations in the faculty of arts began is uncertain. The statutes of the English nation in 1252 stated that masters in the nation were obliged to celebrate together the service on the feasts of Edmund, Nicholas, Catherine, and Thomas Martyr; at vespers for Mary on Friday; and at mass for Mary on Saturday.12 Although the main Marian feasts are not mentioned, the same statutes did require incepting masters to help pay for the candles for the Virgin, which suggests that they were also used for Friday vespers and mass on Saturday.13 As one moves from the period of increased income to the nation in the spring from graduation fees to the period of increased expenditure from late summer to December because of the Marian feasts of As-

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sumption, Nativity, and Conception, as well as the three saints’ festivals that fell in late November and early December, one can see the balance in the receptor’s account declining. It was expected that members of the nation would attend services on major and minor feast days throughout the Christian liturgical year, but the nation as a group did not expend money in connection with those services. In fact, the three services required of all members of the English nation in addition to the Marian feasts, namely, those in honor of Edmund, Catherine, and Nicholas (20 Nov. to 6 Dec.), were not funded by the nation except for the monetary distribution given to the masters who attended those services as well as services in honor of Mary. The funding of candles for Our Lady was therefore the only regular liturgical expenditure by the nation, and it was considered an obligation that took precedence over all others. To ensure that the money, once so allocated, would not be used for other purposes, a separate receptor was sometimes appointed to administer that fund, payments to which by those determining, being licensed, or incepting were calculated in terms of a burse.14 In hard times money for the upkeep of the schools or payments to the beadles were delayed but rarely payments for the candles for Our Lady.15 And if for some reason money was borrowed from that fund for another purpose, that action required the unanimous vote of the masters and should be repaid quickly.16 Whether the candles were used at the high altar or at a side chapel in the cathedral or at another church, as I think more likely, they were used in a service attended by all masters in the nation and most of their students. Attendance was compulsory, encouraged by payments to the masters for attending as long as they arrived before the reading of the Gospel and did not leave until after the consecration of the Host and enforced by fines for not attending, arriving late, or leaving early. These services and others brought the nation together as a religious community or “confraternity.”17 Candles may even have been held by masters in the procession of the nation into the church and/or during the service. These religious services and the candles used in them were part of the liturgical side of the nation. They united the masters of the nation in worship on a weekly basis. And in their devotion to Mary, they sought her protection and intercession for all members of the nation, past and present.

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Figure 4. Left Bank of Paris, 1300.

The Churches of the Nations At the time when the expenditures for candles for Our Lady were being recorded in the Proctors’ Book of the English nation, the early fourteenth century, the regular place of corporate worship for the nation was not the cathedral but the parish church of Saint-Côme in the rue de la Harpe, located at what is now Librairie Gibert-Joseph on boulevard Saint-Michel.18 In fact, each of the nations had a specific church where they met as a religious community (fig. 4). The Picard nation worshiped at Saint-André-des-Arts, the Norman nation at the Trinitarian convent church of Saint-Mathurin, and the French nation at Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet, although the latter celebrated the feast of their patron saint, St. Guillaume de Bourges, at the church of St. Étienne-des-Grès.19 All these churches were new foundations in Paris in the first half of the thirteenth century and therefore are chronologically parallel with the legal and structural emergence of the University of Paris and the nations in the faculty of arts.

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The reason for the foundation of three of those churches, SaintCôme, Saint-André, and Saint-Nicolas, was a result of the effect that Philip Augustus’s wall had on the parish structure of that part of Paris.20 The southern portion of the wall, paid for by the king himself, was built in the first decade of the thirteenth century. Before the wall was built, parish life on the Left Bank was centered on the collegiate churches of Saint-Séverin for the area near the Seine and Saint-Benoît for the upper slope of the hill, the parish church of Saint-Sulpice for the western district, and the abbey church of Saint-Victor on the eastern side.21 The wall is often said to have been built to protect universit y masters and students, but in fact it enclosed them together with their usual adversaries, the townsmen, permanent citizens, artisans, and tradesmen that the wall was more likely built to protect. From the standpoint of care of souls, the wall separated parishioners on the western side from their traditional parish church, Saint-Sulpice, and on the eastern side from Saint-Victor. In order to retain jurisdiction, tithe income, and patronage rights, the abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Près on whose land Saint-Sulpice was located, established two new parishes on their land inside the wall soon after 1212: Saint-Côme and Saint-André. Construction on those churches began almost immediately.22 Between 1230 and 1243 William of Auvergne, bishop of Paris and former master of theology, arranged for the creation of the church and parish of Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet on land ceded by the abbey of SaintVictor.23 The church and convent of the Trinitarians, dedicated to Saint-Mathurin, was begun in 1228. When these churches became centers for the religious life of the nations is not known, but they probably began to serve that function by the mid-thirteenth century. Each nation’s church was and remained a center for the spiritual life of secular masters, separate from the awesome grandeur of Notre-Dame, where they might also attend services. The earliest entries in the surviving records of the English nation, February and March 1333, mention expenditures for candles for the Blessed Virgin as well as services in the church of Saint-Côme.24 Until the midfourteenth century the right to appoint the curates of Saint-Côme and Saint-André belonged to the abbot of Saint-Germain, but those known to be curates in this earlier period were all masters at the university.25

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In 1345 rights over both churches passed to the university as a result of the settlement of a riot at Pré-aux-Clercs between domestics of the abbey and students.26 The practice of appointing curates who were masters in the university continued, but the English nation’s use of the church for its religious services appears to have had little effect on whom the university might bestow the position when vacant. Albert of Saxony, master in the English nation, supplicated successfully in September 1361 for the vacant rectorship of Saint-Côme,27 but by 1365 Henry Herout, subdeacon and master of arts by 1364 in the Norman nation, was curate, and by 1379 the rectorship was held by John Doublelli, priest from the Norman nation, which means the university, not the English nation, retained the advowson.28 The same thing seems to apply to Saint-André, center for the religious life of the Picard nation, whose curé was held by 1378 until after 1387 by Nicholas of Soissons, a master of arts in the French nation, albeit from a region close to the border of the Picard nation.29 University masters known to have been curates at Saint-Nicolasdu-Chardonnet belonged to the French nation, but that might be expected since it was the largest nation in the arts faculty.30 For its weekly services as a nation, such as vespers on Friday, mass on Saturday, and the eight special feast days throughout the year, the English nation may have had its own priest and certainly used its own liturgical ornaments, which were kept in a chest (archa) at Saint-Côme containing the vestments, liturgical books, and other items used in their services, such as altar cloths; candlesticks; chalices; plate; ampullae for water, wine, and holy oil; censers; incense holders and spoons; reliquaries; and probably before 1340 its records, monies, pawned items, and the seal and counterseal of the nation.31 In 1340, in a meeting at SaintMathurin, the nation authorized the creation of a new chest with three keys for separate locks, which would be kept at Saint-Mathurin and in which would be placed the money of the nation, the seal, and other things, such as pawned items.32 Presumably items used in the services of the nation would continue to be held at Saint-Côme. Attendance at these services was again encouraged by payments to masters attending and fines for bachelors and licentiates not attending.33 Apparently attendance was not required of students below the level of bachelor. Although comparable records have not survived for the other three nations from this period, it is safe to assume that their religious practices would have been comparable.

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The records of the contents of the chest of the French nation in 1339, which was kept at the Cistercian convent of Saint-Bernard and moved in 1384 to the Collège de Navarre, and the chest of the Picard nation in 1382, which was kept at Saint-Mathurin, reveal that most were items used in the religious services of the nation, particularly what went on the altar, vestments for the priest, deacon, and subdeacon, and service books for the liturgical year and for funerals and burials.34 The other items held in these chests were the seals and counterseals, record books, statutes, and original or notarized copies of privileges, but by the mid-fourteenth century the English nation may have stored many of the latter items in their new chest at Saint-Mathurin. The number of feast days observed by the nations on which lectures could not be held was sizable and increased in the course of the fourteenth century.35 In addition to Sundays, in most months there would be ten or more days that would be “nonlegible,” that is, on which there could be no lectures. Even allowing for the fact that courses in medieval universities met daily when lectures were permitted, in contrast to courses in modern universities that meet two or three times a week, the expansion of religious observances reduced the amount of time devoted to academic instruction. Moreover, in the early fourteenth century and continuing through the fifteenth, new academic exercises were introduced in the theological faculty, such as principial disputations for bachelors reading the Sentences, which were held four times in the year, each time for two weeks; thus the amount of time for lecture courses in which one commented on the Bible or the Sentences was reduced even more for masters and bachelors in that faculty. In addition to services at the churches used by the nations, there were chaplaincies that belonged to the nation, which usually appointed one of its masters as chaplain. Even a chaplaincy in the control of the university at large was often given to a master who came from the region of the donor whose bequest endowed it, the main purpose of which was to offer prayers and masses for the repose of his soul. Again, many of these chapels were dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It was in this way that John Buridan, one of the most famous arts masters at Paris in the second quarter of the fourteenth century and a member of the Picard nation, was appointed to the university-controlled chapel of Our Lady established at Saint-André-des-Arts (the church of the Picard nation) by a former regent master in canon law who also came from Picardy.36

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Nations as Confraternities As distinct from the main religious feasts, such as Christmas and Easter, the eight religious services mentioned above (five for Mary and three for other saints) were ones that the masters of the nation celebrated as a group in the church of the nation. They were accompanied by chanting, often loud, and to improve the quality of the sound, professional singers were sometimes hired, especially for the more solemn services.37 These services were not simply occasions for common worship. They provided an opportunity for the masters of the nation to display themselves publicly in full academic or liturgical attire, to process through the streets, to be seen and heard, and to gather later in the day at a tavern for feasting and drinking.38 In 1275 the faculty of arts limited each nation to only one special patron saint whose feast day they might celebrate in this way, and it also limited the length of time and volume level of the processions.39 These statutes are clear indications that the nations tried to increase the number of feasts and to celebrate them in an excessive way.40 Bracketing their religious observances with processions beforehand and banqueting afterwards underscores the confraternal nature of university corporations, particularly the nations. It was partly because of the requirements on funerals and burials in the statutes of 1215 that Nathalie Gorochov noticed the similarities between the university community and a religious confraternity. Religious confraternities were associations of laypersons, somewhat parallel to medieval artisan guilds and sometimes connected with them. Their origins can be traced at least to the twelfth century, and they were a particularly prominent feature of urban life in the late Middle Ages, especially in northern France, Flanders, the Low Countries, and Italy. One dimension of confraternal life was public display. Members held processions on certain feast days or a special saint’s day, when their banners and attire would be publicly visible as they went through the streets to and from a church. Another dimension was social, which included feasting and drinking together at various times of the year. But its most important functions were religious. Members of a confraternity attended religious services as a group at a specific church where masses were conducted by a priest partially supported by the group. They also performed acts of mercy or acts of charity on behalf of members, both

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living and dead. This included funeral services for members of the confraternity, with processions and mourners, in addition to a shroud and coffin if the family could not afford them. Confraternities also provided support for widows and orphans of families belonging to the group. They gave alms to the poor in the form of food and clothing, or in winter firewood, on behalf of confraternal members, both living and dead. And perhaps most important, they celebrated masses for the repose of the souls of deceased members. For persons of modest means, membership in a confraternity afforded religious benefits, particularly in the afterlife, that were normally available only to the wealthy in medieval society. Among the benefits were having a significant number of mourners at one’s funeral, prayers and masses for the repose of the soul, and acts of charity in one’s name — all on an ongoing basis as long as the confraternity continued to exist. Some of these confraternal activities were present within the university community, such as processions, and especially those associated with the death of a member of the community, prayers for the repose of the soul, and, for some, the ongoing preservation of their memory. But it is doubtful that such activities were conducted at the level of the university as a whole, whatever the impression given by the statutes of 1215. When the entire university acted together, it was as a corporation rather than a confraternity. The former is jurisdictional, legal, and structural; the latter, social, religious, and personal. It is possible that Robert of Courson may have thought of the faculties of arts and theology at Paris, the core constituency of the university, as one community at the beginning of the thirteenth century. But by the mid-thirteenth century, and perhaps even in 1215, the obligations on masters and students with regard to dead members of the university community were probably operative at the level of a subgroup, not the university as a whole. The entire university did not act as a confraternity except for a general festivity or procession, or perhaps for the death of a senior officer or prominent master. Where the confraternal nature of the Parisian academic community was most in evidence was with regard to the nations and the three higher faculties; it was here that the number of those involved and their frequent social contact was closest to being confraternal. Similar confraternal obligations with regard to religious services,

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funerals, and prayers for the souls of deceased members are found in the French version of the mid-fourteenth century statutes of Parisian grammar school teachers.41 There were, however, two important differences between lay confraternities and the confraternal organization of a nation. Members of urban confraternities were permanent residents in the town and joined voluntarily. Attendance at their religious events and celebrations was probably also voluntary, certainly not required. For students and masters at the university, one joined a nation automatically when one came to Paris and enrolled with a master in the faculty of arts, so that participation in the confraternal practices of a nation was obligatory, not voluntary, and attendance at its religious services was expected and sometimes enforced. Even so, students who came to Paris to study were temporary migrants from other regions in France or Europe, and the confraternal structure and religious practices of their nation in the faculty of arts provided them with a more familiar community composed of scholars, some or many of whom came from their home region. The second difference is that the death benefits of a religious confraternity included members’ wives and children, a dimension lacking for members of the university community save perhaps for beadles and a few married masters, a topic addressed in chapter 5. Alms to the poor might be distributed on feast days at the door of the church used by a nation or in conjunction with a funeral. The poor so served might include widows and orphans, but the recipients were not part of the nation. Individual masters with property or sufficient financial means might include such acts of charity in their wills, to be done at the time of their funeral or in conjunction with an anniversary mass, or in charitable bequests, and even the creation of a chaplaincy, if they could afford it. For those without means, some acts of charity could be performed by the nation as a whole on behalf of the individual. The one-time benefit for masters and students who died at Paris— a funeral and burial with procession and mourners, receivable only in case of death — was not the only death benefit that both groups received. The religious services of the nation, whether at Notre-Dame or at the church where the nation regularly held its services, offered prayers on behalf of members of the nation, students and masters alike, the living and the dead. Those prayers were ongoing throughout the

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year and across subsequent generations. While most students and masters were not able to endow masses and prayers for the repose of their souls after death, by belonging to a nation that gathered frequently for that purpose on behalf of the entire body, each was able to receive what he was not individually able to afford. To conclude, the nations of the faculty of arts at Paris were not simply academic groupings concerned with instruction, examinations, disputations, promotions, and written contributions to philosophy; nor were they simply guilds of masters concerned with protecting their profession and privileges, who also enjoyed feasting and drinking together. In many respects they resembled religious confraternities whose acts of devotion and liturgical practices bound them together and benefited their members spiritually, in this life and in the next. From the standpoint of hours spent, the academic and religious sides of life in a nation were probably equal. That tells us nothing about the piety, the religious sincerity of the individual master or student, but it does tell us much about what he participated in on a weekly basis. And just as it is impossible to attempt to differentiate between the religious and social elements in an urban confraternity, it is impossible to try to separate the academic, social, and religious elements with regard to the nations. For masters and students in the faculty of arts at Paris, these elements were all part of life as experienced in the medieval University of Paris.

chapter 4

Gaudy Night Colleges and Prayers for the Dead

The title “Gaudy Night” brings to mind the mystery novel by Dorothy Sayers.1 It refers to a college reunion at Oxford according to class year held in early summer or early fall. The nostalgia of the return, along with its usually bibulous character, presumably loosens the purse strings of graduates on behalf of the college’s endowment. The term “gaudy,” of course, does not mean tastelessly garish or ostentatious, although that etymology has frequently been offered. It comes from the Latin word for “joy” or “rejoicing,” gaudium, and is associated with the Latin song (also a drinking song) “Gaudeamus igitur.” In its medieval context, as well as in its modern usage, it is a term for feasting. Unlike reunions at American colleges and universities, the Gaudy is a formal black-tie event for college alumni only, usually without spouses, at which the wearing of academic gowns is normally required.2 Although fund-raising is one of its motivations, it primarily brings the college community, as remembered and experienced in the past, back together. 53

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Before the feasting and drinking get under way, however, a central event of the Gaudy takes place. That is where current fellows and graduates gather in the college chapel for prayers. This is a solemn service whose current Anglicanized content and structure disguise its medieval roots and the purpose such gatherings served for colleges in the medieval period. I do not wish to suggest any direct continuity between a presentday Gaudy and the medieval past, only that chapel services in Oxford colleges have a long history that reaches back to the medieval period. Before the Reformation the parallel annual religious service for a medieval college was an anniversary mass for the repose of the souls of the founder and his family, some of whom (or some parts of whom) might be buried in the college chapel. There were also weekly, often daily, services in the chapel that included prayers for the founder as well as for former fellows of the college and donors who had contributed to the fabric or endowment.3 Regular chapel services today in Oxbridge colleges throughout the academic year are pale reminders of medieval services in which the fellows of a college constituted a body similar to canons at a collegiate church, one of whose principal functions was prayers for the dead. And the pattern noted for the nations in the faculty of arts at Paris, in which vespers on Friday was regularly followed by a common meal and drinking— a feature of any medieval confraternity— was also true for these college ceremonies.

Halls and Colleges The significance of this liturgical dimension of medieval college life has not been noted when historians have compared halls and colleges, the two principal forms of collective residence for students at medieval universities who did not belong to a religious order or lodge with their master. Student halls, which were numerous at Paris and Oxford, were commercial enterprises that provided lodging for students in dormitories, with a master as head or principal to keep order.4 A property owner, which could be an individual, lay or clergy, or an institution, such as a priory or abbey, a church, or a hospital, may have redesigned a house to be operated as a residence hall and charged the students individually; or a master may have rented a hall, paid the owner, and charged the stu-

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dents himself. At most, these halls had a large common room for study or social interaction, but they had no library or chapel. Some halls may have provided meals to some of the residents, but it is likely that many did not until the late fourteenth century. To the extent those residing in a hall were a community, it was an academic and social community, not a liturgical one. Halls had nothing to do with remembrance of the dead. Colleges, by contrast, although they may initially have been called halls, were endowed institutions and incorporated.5 Both halls and colleges have been described almost entirely as academic in nature or purpose, the college being an improvement on the hall inasmuch as students were provided with a stipend, meals, and, in the better endowed colleges, a modest library and a large hall for study and practice in disputation.6 Colleges also had written statutes, rules, and regulations, which halls did not until disciplinary problems caused them to be implemented in the fourteenth century. And while colleges were often created by a founder who bought up several halls and adjacent houses, which then became the college, with one of the former halls as the central building, academic halls did not over time become colleges or die out at either Paris or Oxford. In the early fourteenth century there were some 123 academic halls at Oxford (those that can be documented), although the number had declined by the early fifteenth century.7 Paris presumably would have had many times more. A common pattern of student housing at Paris, however, was for a small group of students to lodge together in rooms rented by the master under whom they were studying, as can be seen in the computus, or collection record, of 1329–30.8 Colleges at Paris and Oxford were initially very different in terms of the t ype of students they served. The earliest colleges at Paris (1180 –1250) were charitable foundations created for poor students, teaching mostly grammar and arts (Dix-Huit; Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre, later known as Saint-Nicolas-du-Louvre; Bons-Enfants de Saint-Honoré; and Bons-Enfants de Saint-Victor), and it was not until the Sorbonne in 1257 that a college was founded with burses solely for graduates, in that case for study in theology (fig. 5). At Oxford the exact opposite occurred. The earliest colleges, University, Merton, and Balliol, were initially for arts masters studying in a higher faculty, and it was only in the fourteenth century that colleges began to accept undergraduates for burses.9

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It is important to note that colleges did not develop out of halls. Colleges were separate endowed foundations, whose physical structure in some cases may have been created by buying one or more houses that had been used as halls. The two forms of collective residence existed side by side, and as the number of colleges increased in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the number of halls declined. What has not been sufficiently emphasized is that colleges served a purpose different from halls, one that had little to do with study and academic life, namely, the liturgical, devotional side and, most important, as a prayer communit y for the repose of the soul of the founder. This is not to say that founders did not also wish to support scholars and scholarship. They certainly did. But they had a dual intention, as the statutes reflect, and the founding of a prayer communit y was as important as or even more important than the support of poor scholars. From the standpoint of the fellowship recipient, financial support for purposes of study and academic advancement was foremost. From the standpoint of the founder and later donors, the primary motive was religious and personal, and it had two dimensions or expressed itself in two ways. One was as an ongoing act of charity: the support of poor scholars, which accrued merit to the founder or donor during life and most important after death, and which would last as long as the college continued to exist. The other was the creation of a prayer community, which in addition to an anniversary mass for the founder would offer daily prayers for the souls of the founder and his or her family. In terms of religious benefits, the founder received two for one. This second benefit, a prayer community, in a sense gave one more than would be obtained from the founding of a hospital or leprosarium, which was also an ongoing act of charity. While the masses and prayers of the chaplain of a hospital or leper house, especially if done in the presence of those being cared for, were acts before God recalling the founder’s act of mercy, the participation of the sick was essentially passive. By contrast, the participation of the fellows and students in a college, acting daily as a prayer community, was active. Their psalms, chanting, and petitions on behalf of the founder came directly and individually from each of those receiving the founder’s charity— assuming they did what the statutes required.

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Figure 5. Left Bank of Paris, 1400.

Medieval Colleges and Memorials for the Dead When we turn to medieval Paris, this side of university life, both the services for the remembrance of the dead and the feasting afterwards, is well documented. Colleges at Paris — and this holds true for Oxford and Cambridge as well—were originally not part of the corporate structure of the university.10 They were charitable foundations in which students and masters at various levels and in various disciplines lived together as a community and received a stipend that covered room, board,

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and some of their other expenses. Initially, in order to ensure that colleges served the needs of poor scholars, not the sons of the rich, and that as such God would view the founder’s act as meritorious, limits on outside income from family or ecclesiastical benefices for those who received a fellowship or burse were often stipulated in the statutes of the college and, for the most part, enforced.11 By the early fourteenth century, however, the expression “poor scholars,” used in most statutes, meant simply “scholars” and applied to those from families of wealth as well as those of modest means. The range in annual income before one lost a burse in college was considerable, and some college statutes did not mention any limit.12 Colleges, depending on the size of the endowment, soon expanded beyond rooms for sleeping and study to include a chapel, a refectory, and a library. The chapel was usually built before the library, whose collection of books was largely acquired through donations. The chapel was the architectural as well as the liturgical center of the college, and attendance at weekly services was an obligation that went with appointment as a fellow. Few Parisian college statutes illustrate the liturgical side of college life better than those of the Collège de Hubant, founded by John of Hubant and also known as the Collège de l’Ave Maria.13 Unlike most statutes, in those for this college, which served grammarians and beginning arts students between the ages of eight and sixteen, the daily, weekly, and annual expectations of the six bursars were richly illustrated in a sequence of miniatures depicting liturgical and charitable life there. In fact liturgical life was as continuous throughout the day and week as it would be in a monastic community, with prayers upon waking and before going to bed and before and after meals. The students said the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin early in the morning, the Office of the Dead before lunch, Vigils and Compline before supper, Matins and Lauds of the Virgin in the evening, and prayers to each student’s patron saint before going to sleep. The Psalter was read during meals, which were to be eaten in silence. Throughout the day there were special prayers for the founder and benefactors of the college.14 These duties took up more than 50 percent of each day, and instruction and time for study had to be worked into that schedule. There were also services and masses throughout the week. Vespers for the Virgin were sung on Friday, and the mass for the Virgin was

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held on Saturday morning, just as was noted for the nations in the faculty of arts.15 There was a solemn mass on Sunday. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday there were masses for the dead, on Tuesday a mass in honor of the angels, and on Thursday a mass in honor of the Holy Ghost. All the great feasts were celebrated in the college chapel or in the church at the nearby monastery of Sainte-Geneviève, as were the feasts for three or four saints each month. In addition to the daily and weekly prayers for the founder, Jean de Hubant, there was a special mass for the repose of his soul on the anniversary of his death as well as a similar mass for him on the anniversary of the completion of the college chapel. His statutes were among several that specified two anniversary masses each year for the founder of the college. There were also three processions outside the college that wound through Paris and in which the students took part. One of these was on the feast of Corpus Christi in June. Another was on Palm Sunday, when the casket or reliquary of St. Geneviève was taken through the streets of Paris in the company of relics from other churches, and the students at Collège de l’Ave Maria were expected to walk barefoot in front of the reliquary of St. Geneviève, carrying candles. The third procession was also during Lent; the students of the college made a pilgrimage to most of the churches in Paris: fourteen churches on the Left Bank, eight on the Île, and twelve on the Right Bank. The pilgrimage began at the college chapel, then went to the churches of Sainte-Geneviève, Saint-Étienne-des-Grès, the Dominicans at Saint-Jacques, down the hill to Saint-Victor, then westward to Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet, the Cistercian church at Saint-Bernard, that of the Trinitarians at Mathurins, the Franciscans at Cordeliers, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Saint-Sulpice, and Saint-André-des-Arts. Then it proceeded to the cathedral of NotreDame and seven other churches on the Île, followed by the churches on the Right Bank, including Sainte-Catherine (the house of studies for the order of Val-des-Écoliers). The miniatures in the statutes illustrate what were probably the two most important aspects of life in the college, at least from the standpoint of the founder, often combining them on the same folio page.16 One of these concerned the liturgical duties of the students. The images on fol. 6r (fig. 6) depict, at the top (no. 1), the six students in chapel before the Virgin and Christ Child, holding books that represent the

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Hours of the Blessed Virgin, the vigils of the dead, prayers to the saints, remembrances of the dead, the seven penitential psalms, and litanies, as the inscription states. The middle image (no. 2) shows the students kneeling before the statue of the Virgin and Child, reciting the Salve Regina, which was required daily in the statutes. The bottom image (no. 3) shows the students saying one nocturn from the Psalter. On fol. 8r (fig. 7), the middle strip (no. 14) shows the Corpus Christi procession through the city, with students carrying large candles and two small boys carrying a canopy. At the bottom (no. 15) are six students reciting the vigils of the dead and the entire Psalter on the anniversary of the death of the founder. Although there is no evidence for or against Hubant having been buried in the college chapel or in the nearby chapel of All Saints in the Sainte-Geneviève monastery, this image shows a sarcophagus or a bierlike structure with candles that centers the attention of the students on the purpose of this anniversary commemoration. One of the last folios containing the miniatures, fol. 10r (fig. 8), shows at the top (no. 20) a student lighting the candle for the Virgin each day; the altar of the statue of the Virgin holding the fleur-de-lys, and the Christ Child with his hand raised in blessing, flanked by two candles (no. 21). The third (no. 22) and fourth (no. 23) miniatures depict the patron saints of boys, separated by candles. The emphasis on candles, their size and weight, can be seen throughout Hubant’s statutes for his college and underscores their importance for the liturgical life in colleges as it did for the nations in the faculty of arts, discussed in the previous chapter.17 The other aspect of college life illustrated in the miniatures was the performance of acts of charity, which the students were to practice on a regular basis. To provide a vehicle or outlet for this activity, the founder of the college established nearby housing for a second group of students, known as beneficiarii, as well as housing for a number of elderly women, presumably poor widows, and a number of elderly poor or infirm laborers. In addition to serving the needs of the Parisian poor outside the door of the college, Jean de Hubant thus built into his foundation three groups of recipients for the acts of charity to be performed by the regular young fellows, the bursars: first, poor students, the beneficiarii; second, poor widows; and third, poor laborers. In addition the students were to visit the sick at the Hôtel-Dieu on the Île and some of the prisoners at the Châtelet on the Right Bank and distribute needed

Figure 6. Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 6r, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 7. Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 8r, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 8. Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 10r, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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items to the poor at certain times of the year. Corpus Christi and All Saints were special days on which the students received new clothing and gave their old clothes and shoes to the beneficiarii and the poor. Most of these acts of mercy are depicted in the miniatures. On fol. 7v (fig. 9) at the top (no. 10) one sees six students leaving the college to give soup to the poor on the feast of All Saints. In the middle strip (no. 11) the students are distributing firewood to the poor. And in the bottom strip (no. 12) the students are visiting prisoners in the Châtelet prison and giving them bread. On fol. 8r (see fig. 7) at the top (no. 13) students are visiting the sick in the Hôtel-Dieu and giving them coins. While the manuscript containing the statutes of the Collège de l’Ave Maria is the only statute book that is illustrated, the liturgical and charitable practices of the college described above were common to most of the other colleges at Paris, as their statutes reflect. In most cases, however, liturgical and charitable duties were not as intense and extensive, taking up more time than academic studies. The reason for the difference perhaps lies in the age group of students at Ave Maria, which was eight to sixteen. The reason stated in the statutes that there be no students in college beyond age sixteen was that Hubant believed that boys at that age were inclined toward evil and presumably would corrupt or set a bad example for the younger students.18 It may also have been that boys’ voices changed around that time and that the desired sound of a boys’ choir chanting alta voce would not be possible with older students. Liturgy and divine service in honor of the Virgin Mary were as, if not more, important to Hubant than supporting study. He was also training that group of young boys to become churchmen, with the degree of religious devotion, spirituality, and service to the poor and needy that he thought was good for them and for the church.19 Regulations regarding a chapel, the appointment of one or more chaplains, daily and weekly services throughout the year, and liturgical vestments and objects given to the college by the founder take up a large portion of the statutes of all medieval colleges at Paris. In the statutes of the colleges of Autun, Boissy, Cambrai, and Tours they were at the very beginning. The services in most colleges, which fellows were obliged to attend, included at least four masses a week, the office of the dead, and, frequently, the hours of the Virgin. Fellows were fined for missing services, although exemption was granted to some who were

Figure 9. Collège de l’Ave Maria Statutes, Paris, AnF, MM 406, fol. 7v, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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involved in certain lectures and disputations. Considerable detail went into the descriptions of liturgical requirements. Many of the masses and other services were sung (cum nota, alta voce). Anniversary masses for the founder, members of his family, and benefactors who added to the library or endowment of the college held a prominent place in college statutes. The Collège d’Autun, which its founder, Cardinal Pierre Bertrand, unsuccessfully insisted should be called the Domus scolarium cardinalis domini Petri Bertrandi, celebrated two anniversary masses each year for the founder, on the date of his death and six months later.20 The two anniversary masses for the founders and benefactors of the Collège de Maître Gervais were held in the college chapel on the day after the feasts of Conception and Purification of the Virgin.21 The Collège de Justice celebrated the obit of the founder twice a year in the college chapel, in October on the vigil of Saints Simon and Jude and in the middle of Lent.22 Queen Joan of Burgundy, founder of the Collège de Bourgogne, received three anniversary masses each year, one on the date of her death, 21 January, the second on the Monday after Easter, and the third at the beginning of October on the Friday after the feast of Saint Remy at the beginning of the academic year.23 In addition, mention of the founder was usually made in the daily masses held in the college chapel, and the statutes of the Collège de Boncour specified that there be a mass in the chapel for the founder and benefactors of the college every Sunday.24 For the Collège de Boissy there was to be a mass every day for the two founders and their relatives and benefactors.25 A large number of anniversary masses were requested by William Bonet, founder of the Collège de Bayeux, who, in addition to a weekly mass at the college and an anniversary mass at Saint-Séverin, mandated that there would be a mass on behalf of his soul at every parish church in which a fellow of the college became a rector when he received that benefice.26 Not all anniversary masses were held in the college chapel. On the anniversary of the death of Jean de Justice, founder of the Collège de Justice, the head of the college along with the scholars were to attend the vigils and a sung mass at Notre-Dame, where he had been a canon.27 Galeranus Nicolai, founder of the Collège de Cornouaille, made substantial gifts to the Hôtel-Dieu and the parish chapel of Saint-Nicolasdes-Champs to endow anniversary masses on the date of his death and

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similar special remembrances at a large number of convents and colleges for which he had also provided.28 In addition to one mass every day in the college chapel for the souls of Godfrey and Stephen Vidé de Boissy, founders of the Collège de Boissy, there was to be an anniversary mass for them at Saint-André-des-Arts on 19 July.29 The anniversary mass for the founder of the Collège de Bayeux at Saint-Séverin is another example. While many colleges at Paris were established by a founder buying one or more houses for that purpose, other colleges were created by converting a house already owned by one of the founders, sometimes as a principal residence, into a domus scolarium to which adjacent houses were added through purchase. Such is the case with the colleges of Cholet, Bayeux, Plessis, Ave Maria (Hubant), Autun, Cambrai, Boncour, Boissy, Dainvilla, and perhaps Laon.30 The earliest example of this form of college foundation is that of the Collège des Cholets, created out of the estate of Cardinal Jean Cholet, who died in 1293, along with a substantial contribution from Jean de Bully, archdeacon of Grand-Caux in the diocese of Rouen and a canon of Beauvais. The executors of Cholet’s estate, both canons of Beauvais, which was the home diocese of Cholet, fulfilled Cholet’s desire to found a college by acquiring the house of Bully in the rue de Saint-Étienne-des-Grès and next to the collegiate chapel of Saint-Symphorien in or shortly before 1295.31 The executors of Cholet’s estate bought part of his house and Bully, in his will, donated the other portion of its value for the salvation of his soul.32 Although the college bore the name of the cardinal, Jean de Bully was considered a cofounder whose house became the college. The college was already in operation by 1295, since the letter of confirmation from Pope Boniface VIII in January 1296 was addressed to the custodians, masters, and scholars “domus pauperum scholarium prope ecclesiam Sancti Stephani de Gressibus Parisius.”33 Prayers and masses were said for both Cholet and Bully. A second example is the Collège de Bayeux, founded in 1309 by William Bonet, bishop of Bayeux. He owned two adjacent houses at the upper end of rue de la Harpe near the Sorbonne, the larger of which he converted into his college and the smaller one he retained as his residence until his death, when it and its furnishings also became possessions of the college.34 Since Bonet had control of some of the resources of the late cardinal Gervais de Clinchamp (d. 1287), that was added to

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the endowment of the college in return for prayers and masses on behalf of Clinchamp’s soul.35 Not only did Bonet create the college out of his house, he continued to live in part of the property when in Paris in close association with the scholarly community that prayed for him daily. After his death in 1312 the twelve scholars in the college, half from the diocese of Le Mans and half from the diocese of Angers who were studying canon law or theology, continued to pray for him and offer masses for the repose of his soul. There was to be a weekly mass in the college chapel and an anniversary mass in the church of Saint-Séverin on the date of his death. One of the most interesting terms in his testamentary bequest was his request that one of his own priestly vestments or liturgical objects be used at the altar for the weekly mass.36 By having items he wore or held in his hands at the altar while living visible to his scholars at a mass for his soul after death performed a double function: it kept his memory more intensely alive for them, and it associated him more closely with the continuing eucharistic sacrifice in the sight of God. The founding of the colleges of Laon and Presles, initially a joint foundation by Guy de Laon, treasurer and canon at Sainte-Chapelle, and Master Raoul de Presles, a lawyer and royal clerk, presents a complex example.37 Two groups of students, those from the diocese of Laon and those from the diocese of Soissons, lived in a house that belonged to Guy de Laon. How long before 1314 Guy had owned that property or whether it was recently acquired with the intention of establishing a college is uncertain. The same holds true for the properties owned by Raoul des Presles at the time they became part of the joint foundation and the separation of the colleges in 1324. Guy’s appointment at SainteChapelle required that he be in residence, but whether that meant physical residence near the Sainte-Chapelle in the royal palace or residence in Paris near enough to fulfill his responsibilities as head of the chapter at Sainte-Chapelle is unclear.38 It is unlikely but possible that Guy not only owned the property that became the college but also lived there before and after it became a collegiate residence for scholars from Laon.39 Master Geoffrey du Plessis, a papal notary and for a time secretary to King Philip V, living in Paris near the Sorbonne and the Collège des Cholets, is another example of someone who transformed his house into a college and, like William Bonet, continued to live there in the midst of his scholarly community until his death.40 Initially, in 1322, he

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housed the students of the Collège du Plessis in two houses, but in 1328 he moved them all into one of the houses and transformed the other into a house of studies for Benedictine students belonging to the congregation of Marmoutier, which in the academic year 1329–30 had twenty-two monks in residence.41 His statutes mandated anniversary masses not only for himself and his family but also for those he had known well: King Philip VI and his consort, Queen Joanna, from whose estate the Collège de Bourgogne was founded; Pope Clement V; and Cardinal John Cholet, whose legacy also established a college. Many of the college statutes concerned the masses and prayer obligations of the scholars being supported. The Collège de l’Ave Maria is similar to the colleges of Bayeux and Du Plessis in that the founder, Hubant, not only used his own residence in the rue du cloître de Sainte-Geneviève and nearby houses he had purchased to establish his college in 1339, but continued to live there until his death, in close proximity to the grammar and arts students he was supporting.42 The extent of daily and weekly religious activities and services described earlier was intense, much of it devoted to prayers on behalf of the founder who lived in their midst and for whom, after his death, masses would be celebrated for the repose of his soul. The acts of charity performed on a regular basis by the students were expected by Hubant to be counted as his acts, performed through them, as well as theirs. Similar arrangements for the distribution of alms by a college on behalf of its scholars and founders can be documented for the Sorbonne and the colleges of Navarre, Du Plessis, and Harcourt. The Collège d’Autun, discussed above in the context of anniversary masses, was established in 1341 by Cardinal Pierre Bertrand, who converted for that purpose his own large house and chapel, located opposite Saint-André-des-Arts between rue Saint-Germain and Hirondelle.43 Bertrand returned to Avignon by 1342 and died in June 1348 at the nearby Benedictine priory of Montault, where he was buried.44 But on return visits to Paris it is likely that he stayed with his scholarly community in his former home. The oversight of the college remained in the hands of family members, and a mass was held on the anniversary of Bertrand’s death. The Collège de Cambrai, otherwise known as the Collège des Trois Evêques, is another example of this pattern of founding a college out of

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the residence of a founder. The college was begun in 1348 and completed sometime after 1352 out of the estates of three bishops, William of Auxonne, bishop of Cambrai (1336 – 42) and then Autun (1342– d. 1344), Hugh de Pommard, bishop of Langres (1344 –d. 1345), and Hugh d’Arcy, bishop of Laon (1341–51) and later archbishop of Reims (1351–d. 1352). Master Henry of Salins, the surviving executor for the estates of all three bishops, used the Parisian residence of William of Auxonne for the site of the college and used the income from his estate and the estates of the other two “founders” for the college endowment and the restoration of Auxonne’s house, which had fallen into ruin since his death.45 Pierre de Becoud, a lay nobleman, specified in his will in 1353 that after his death, for the salvation of his soul, his manor house on the Mont-Ste-Geneviève should become a house of study for eight scholars from the non-Flemish part of the diocese of Thérouanne. The will stipulated extensive liturgical services for the fellows of the college ( Boncour), including the daily recitation of the hours of the Virgin, weekly masses in the chapel, and sung vigils, “alta voce pro defunctis.”46 Another example is the Collège de Boissy, founded in 1359 from the estate of Godfrey of Boissy, royal clerk and canon of Chartres, through his maternal nephew, Master Stephen Vidé, who lived in his house. Both were from the village of Boissy-le-Sec near Etampes, and their house was located in the rue du Cimetière de Saint-André-des-Arts, near Pierre Bertrand’s college foundation. Godfrey, who died in August 1354, specified in his will that his residence and a nearby house that he also owned should become a house for “poor scholars,” which he defined as scholars belonging to his family or those of noble origin from his village and the surrounding area. Rather than move elsewhere, Stephen and the executors transformed the property into a college for six scholars and one chaplain, with accommodations for Stephen. Stephen became cofounder, and the prayers and masses of the college were on behalf of both Godfrey and Stephen during and after life.47 The statutes and liturgical obligations of the scholars were copied out by Master Stephen in his own hand.48 Another example is Michael de Dainvilla, whose house in Paris in the rue de la Harpe became the Collège de Dainville in 1380 and in which he continued to live until his death.49 The college was a family

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foundation inasmuch as the estates of his deceased brothers, Gerard and John, for which Michael was executor, became part of the endowment. It also appears that Michael continued to live in the house with his scholars, and allowed his friend, Master Peter Cramette, canon of Arras and Thérouanne and royal secretary, to continue living in the house and using the kitchen and wine cellar.50 Again, regular masses and prayers were mandated for all three founders.51 In some Paris colleges the chapel was also the place of burial for the founder.52 One possible example is the Sorbonne. From its founding in the mid-thirteenth century into the early modern period the Sorbonne was simply a college for students and masters in theology, albeit the most important one. It gradually became synonymous with the theological faculty, and then with the university itself, but in origin it was simply a college, where its founder, Robert de Sorbon, lived with his scholars in the last years of his life. Whether its chapel in the Cour d’honneur of the Sorbonne, unfinished in 1274 when the founder of the college died, was actually his place of burial, as the historian of the college, Palémon Glorieux, thought, it was certainly where he intended to be buried, in the midst of the scholarly community he had founded.53 And when the fellows of the Sorbonne gathered for services in the chapel, it was in part to pray for the repose of Robert’s soul, perhaps in the presence of his physical remains. A final example is the Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, some fragments of which still remain just off the street of that name on the Left Bank, near the east end of boulevard Saint-Germain.54 The college was founded by Jean Lemoine, who before becoming cardinal was vicechancellor to Pope Nicholas IV and bishop-elect of Arras. The college was established in the opening years of the fourteenth century. Lemoine provided for its foundation in his will, drawn up in 1301, and in the following year he purchased land and buildings belonging to the Augustinian Hermits inside the wall to the west of Saint-Victor, allowing the friars to remain there until they could move into the vacant convent on the Seine from which Philippe le Bel had expelled the Friars of the Sack. Cardinal Lemoine drew up statutes for his college in 1302, which envisioned a scholarly community of 100 fellows: 40 in arts and 60 in theology. The initial group of fellows appointed in 1302, however, was far more modest: 4 in arts and 2 in theology. As with many donors,

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his actual financial resources did not correspond to his dreams. Six additional burses were added in 1310 from a testamentary bequest of Simon Matifas, bishop of Paris, who had died in 1304. And a few years later Jean Lemoine’s brother, André, added eight more burses through his testamentary bequest.55 The part of this story that is relevant here concerns the chapel, the building of which was begun in 1308 and completed before Jean Lemoine’s death at Avignon in 1313. It was to be served by a chaplain, who would hold daily masses and hear the confessions of the fellows. The prior of the college, elected annually by the theologians, was also concerned with the religious life of the college. In addition to assisting the Grand Master of the college and conducting theological disputations, the prior celebrated masses in the chapel and was responsible for the offices of the dead. Both Jean Lemoine and André Lemoine were buried in the same tomb in the middle of the chapel’s choir, and daily masses were celebrated on behalf of their souls and, over time, for the souls of fellows of the college who had died.56 Viewed from that perspective, the chapel at the Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, although much larger to accommodate masters and students in the college, resembles a chantry, a chapel built around the tomb or tombs of a prominent noble family, with a priest whose primary duty it was to offer masses on behalf of the souls of those buried there. Christopher Daniell has described some chantries as a “college of priests,” and Jacques Verger noted that some chantries combined a school and a commemorative chapel in which the priest was both chaplain and head of the school.57 In the case of the Sorbonne, the Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, and other colleges, those chapels were staffed by priests to say masses for the founder, the founder’s family, and donors to the college. Although rarely mentioned in statutes but observed in practice, such prayers included former masters, and current fellows of the college were expected to attend. The fellows were in a very real sense the recipients of the cardinal’s alms in the form of continuing food and lodging. Their presence in college, in close proximity to the remains of the founders, was a living testament before God of the cardinal’s continuing acts of mercy. But the fellows were also active participants in these masses for the dead, comparable in many ways to canons at a collegiate church, with chanting and the recitation of psalms. The fellows were

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part of a collegiate community whose responsibility it was to pray continually for the repose of the souls of the founder, his brother, others whose donations to the college added to its endowment, and, eventually, deceased fellows. The Dominican church of Saint-Jacques at Paris, as noted in chapter 1, served a similar purpose. Although it is seldom mentioned by scholars today, the church at Saint-Jacques was to be the resting place for the founder, the dean of Saint-Quentin, who gave the property and its chapel to the Dominicans. In the letter of foundation the requirement of daily prayers for the repose of his soul as well as an anniversary mass on the date of his death were specified in detail, and we may presume that the friars observed those requirements, perhaps until the French Revolution put an end to the convent. Although the founder of the Collège de Dormans-Beauvais, Jean de Dormans, was not buried in the chapel of the college he established, which was not finished until seven years after his death, many later members of his family were interred there and benefited from the prayers of the scholarly community and the masses of the chaplain on their behalf as well as Jean’s.58 Whether or not the remains of founders were interred in the chapels of the colleges they founded, every college had a chapel, which, in addition to the fellows, had one or more priests whose function was to offer daily masses on behalf of the souls of the founder and his family. This side of college life was as important as, and to the founder at least probably more important than, the academic, intellectual side.59 This is well illustrated by the statutes of the Collège de Montaigu at Paris, famous for its role in the education of Erasmus and John Calvin and for having been satirized by Rabelais in his Gargantua and Pantagruel. The origins of the college can be traced to a scholarship fund established by Cardinal Giles Aycelin at his death in 1318.60 His bequest had a shadow existence until the end of the fourteenth century because the properties that were meant to form its endowment, and which were located high up the hill on one of the wealthiest streets on the Left Bank, were designated in the wills of three successive prelates in the family to be used to house scholars or to provide Parisian residences for family members who were pursuing church careers. One can guess which provision was observed as far as residential property was concerned. The

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houses were occupied by family members, and a few students received a small stipend to help them find lodging and food elsewhere. When in 1388 Cardinal Pierre Aycelin died and only one heir, Louis Aycelin, seigneur de Montaigu, remained, the university pressed him, for the sake of his soul and those of his ancestors, to fulfill Giles Aycelin’s testamentary promise to found an actual college, since Giles had been denied the full spiritual benefits of his donation for several generations. The physical foundation of the college was finally achieved in 1402. One crucial provision in the 1402 statutes of the Collège de Montaigu concerns how resources were to be used in the event of a financial crisis. If the income from the endowment reached a point where it could not support all activities of the college, the first priority was for the upkeep of buildings, especially the chapel.61 On an equal footing with that stipulation was support of the priests who were to offer weekly masses for the souls of the founders. If that absorbed all the income of the college, so be it. The fellows could be turned out and the books in the library sold. The chapel, and its masses for the dead, was the highest priority of the college as far as the Aycelin family was concerned. In 1483 the college had reached that very point, and the cathedral chapter of Notre-Dame, which oversaw the college, debated seriously about stopping fellowships and renting college rooms to others to generate income for repairs and the support of the chapel. They chose instead to appoint Jean Standonck, who transformed the college into the important institution it became in the early sixteenth century. Daily masses for members of the Aycelin family, however, remained at the top of the college’s priorities.62 Remnants of that religious aspect of academic life survive today in the topography of European universities, even if their medieval purposes are no longer observed. Even American universities and colleges are not as distant from that dimension of medieval university life as it seems in the secular university environment of today. Most colleges and universities have chapels, and in earlier generations attendance at some services was required of students. The theme of memorials for the dead is also not absent, as numerous plaques along the walls attest. Several examples of memorials for founders, donors, and the dead can be found at Harvard. At one end of Harvard Yard stands Widener Library, which was created in memory of Harry Elkins Widener, who

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died in the sinking of the Titanic. At the center of the library, at the top of the main flight of stairs, is a room housing Widener’s own library collection, built in oak paneling, with his portrait above the fireplace as in a private home. It is a memorial to Widener himself, a place where his memory is preserved. Widener Library has expanded and has been renovated over the years, but that room cannot be moved or changed. Opposite Widener Library stands Memorial Church, whose very name reflects its dedication to the memory of deceased members of the college, particularly those who died in war. And halfway between the library and the church, in the next quadrangle, is the statue of John Harvard, founder of the college. An even better example is Stanford University, where the adjective “memorial” is applied to many campus landmarks. In addition to Memorial Chapel at the center of the main building (called “MemChu” by the students), there is Memorial Auditorium (“MemAud”) and a modernistic memorial sculpture (“MemClaw”). And tucked away in a corner of the campus is a mausoleum containing the body of Leland Stanford Jr., after whom the university is named, which the students irreverently referred to (at least in the 1960s) as “MemBod.” And although the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Notre Dame may not be thought of as a shrine to the memory of Father Sorin, the church is central to the activities and culture of the university.

Medieval Colleges and Islamic Madrasas Approaching medieval colleges as institutions that in late medieval society served as memorials for the dead as much as the education of the living, it is worthwhile to revisit the debate over how medieval colleges compare to Islamic madrasas. First, let me provide some historiographical context for the issue. Madrasas have long been considered educational institutions, schools for the study of the Qur’an and, at the higher level, Islamic law to prepare jurists and teachers.63 Some Islamic scholars have argued that they were effectively universities, and because they emerged several centuries before universities in the West, it was sometimes claimed that the latter were influenced by that Islamic educational model, just as hospitals in

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the Islamic world were models for hospitals in the West. In several articles around 1970 George Makdisi argued convincingly that Islamic madrasas were not universities because they were not incorporated institutions that had legal standing apart from the individuals who belonged to them.64 As he put it, “The madrasa, unlike the university, was a building, not a community.”65 The idea of an institution having juristic personality distinct from its members was alien to Islamic law. Makdisi went on to highlight many other differences, including the relationship to political and ecclesiastical authorities, the relationship to the city in which the institutions flourished, and the authorization to teach. The conclusion was that since the two institutions were not alike, the argument that developments in the East influenced developments in the West was wrong. In an article in Speculum in 1974, however, Makdisi argued that some developments in tenth- and eleventh-century Islamic education did influence developments in the West, namely, in the creation of the scholastic method of reasoning, posing arguments in a sic-et-non format in order to arrive at a solution.66 Before Abelard, canon lawyers in the late eleventh century, such as Bernold of Constance and Ivo of Chartres, wrote works that cited conflicting authoritative opinions and presented rules on how to reconcile them that are essentially identical to the rules stated by Abelard in the introduction to his Sic et Non. The same methodology can be found in use by Muslim law professors writing almost a century earlier. According to Makdisi, the sic-et-non method, the discipline of dialectic or logic, and the art of disputation arrived in the West from the Islamic East by way of Italy or Spain, or both, and was first adopted by canon lawyers, who in turn passed the method on to philosophers and theologians.67 Other academic innovations present in the Islamic East before appearing in the Latin West, again according to Makdisi, are the use of reportationes to copy lectures for preservation and circulation; the pecia system of manuscript production in which unbound quires of a work were made available for copying; and, most important, the Muslim kahn, or student hostel, which in the East developed into the madrasa and in the West developed into the college.68 The last idea, that the Islamic madrasa was the model for the college in Western universities, although not the university itself, was fleshed out by Makdisi in several articles between 1974 and 1981.69 He

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went so far as to suggest that the earliest college founded at Paris, the Collège des Dix-Huit, may have been influenced by the model of the madrasa in the Islamic East. The founder of the college, Jocius of London, had recently returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1180, where he presumably could have heard about madrasas. While there were no known madrasas in Jerusalem in the twelfth century, there were many throughout the Middle East, so knowledge of them would have been common.70 Makdisi was widely attacked for his Islam-had-it-first argument, especially the part that suggested that Western institutions and teaching methods were derived from rather than simply paralleled certain features of Islamic legal education. Although he never abandoned his argument about similarities in scholastic method, especially in the study of theology, he increasingly centered his institutional parallel on colleges at medieval universities rather than Western universities themselves. Like colleges, madrasas were endowed charitable foundations, with stipends for students and teachers. I will not take time here to critique Makdisi’s argument or to note parallels that he missed that would have strengthened his argument, at least from the perspective of a common development. I want to turn rather to an attempt to disprove Makdisi’s thesis that a madrasa in origin, structure, and purpose was essentially the same as a college at a university in the West. Michael Chamberlain revisited that issue in his book on madrasas and social structures in medieval Damascus, arguing that madrasas were really different institutions from university colleges in the West.71 While madrasas were residential communities composed of scholars, some of whom held fellowships from the endowment and others who did not, they served more specific goals. A madrasa was created as a charitable trust (waqf) that owned property and was solely under the control of the founder and his descendants as long as the institution engaged in activities that were pleasing to God. These could include religious, educational, or social benefits, such as building a mosque, founding a madrasa, or establishing a hospital. It could also include infrastructure projects that served the public good, such as bridges, roads, and waterworks. Madrasas were more than endowed charitable trusts where the Qur’an was studied and Islamic law taught. Many were created by converting part or all of the home of the founder into a madrasa.

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It was not unusual for the founder to be in residence with the community of learning he established. It was also not unusual for him to be buried there. Madrasas functioned as communities of prayer and Qur’anic devotion. As Chamberlain remarked, “Madrasas were important religious and social institutions, with many purposes that had nothing to do with education. The learned elite not only often resided in madrasas, they used these institutions as stages for some of their important ceremonies, including . . . Friday prayer, weddings, and ceremonies of mourning.”72 This last point is particularly important. Medieval madrasas became places for the burial of the one who had created and endowed it. Other family members and associates might also be buried there. As Chamberlain noted, “Syrian madrasas were tombs at least as much as they were anything else. Damascenes, like many other medieval Middle Eastern peoples, felt a strong connection to the dead, and tombs . . . had a vital role in linking the living and the dead.” Scholars in residence were not simply there for study. They formed a group of Qur’an reciters whose recitations and prayers would benefit the soul of the founder. By transforming one’s house into an endowed charitable and religious institution and by being buried in it, one could ensure a permanent memorial that would “look after [ his] spiritual interests in the afterlife.”73 The tomb of Saladin, a site of considerable political importance to the Ayyubid dynasty, was in a madrasa of his own creation. Thus, just as Western medieval colleges did not develop out of student halls or hostels, as shown earlier in this chapter, so too Chamberlain’s research suggests that the same may be true for madrasas. One further point of comparability or noncomparability between madrasas and colleges needs to be considered. Makdisi emphasized that in contrast to madrasas, colleges at Oxford and Paris were incorporated institutions. By that he meant not only that colleges had legal status separate from those who resided there, but that the fellows of the college administered its academic and fiscal life. That may be true for Oxford and Cambridge in the modern period, but it was less true for colleges in late medieval Paris. While the senior fellows of the Sorbonne under the leadership of the provisor and those who held the office of prior administered the college and resolved the economic and disciplinary problems that arose, in most Parisian colleges those who held a

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burse had no voice in running the college.74 That was in the hands of the master or chaplain-master, acting under the oversight of external administrators. Many college founders placed that oversight in the hands of family members, as Pierre Bertrand’s or Geoffrey du Plessis’s foundations illustrate.75 Another option for outside oversight was to place authority over the college and the choice of future appointments to fellowships in the control of a cathedral chapter with which the founder had a close connection. Thus the important observation that students on stipends in madrasas had no authority in its governance, which remained in the control of the founding family, was true for most of the colleges in medieval Paris. There are other parallels between Chamberlain’s description of madrasas and Parisian colleges as described above. Both were established as charitable trusts that owned property. Some madrasas were previously the home of the founder, who continued to live there until his death, which was true for some Paris colleges. Madrasas were at least as concerned with prayers for the dead as they were with their educational mission, but that was also true for many if not most Parisian colleges. And if founders were sometimes buried in their madrasas and members of their families were also buried there, there are examples of that for fourteenth-century colleges at Paris. This is not to suggest that colleges in the West consciously or unconsciously followed a model they adopted and adapted from the Islamic East, although the parallels are striking. It is rather that the two developments followed similar paths with regard to their religious life and the motivations of their founders. Chamberlain’s emphasis on the religious and commemorative function of madrasas, alongside their social and political uses, was an attempt to correct Makdisi’s overemphasis on the parallels between madrasas and Western medieval colleges as academic institutions. But if madrasas were not Islamic versions of medieval colleges because they were religious and funereal foundations just as much as places of study, a closer reading of the Western documentation as presented above moves the discussion back toward comparability but not necessarily toward influence of one institution on another. Rather than destroy Makdisi’s argument for parallels between Islamic madrasas and colleges in the Latin West, the new evidence presented by Chamberlain, alongside the evidence presented above, makes the parallel even stronger.

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By tracing the meaning of “Gaudy Night” back to the medieval period, a different facet of life in medieval colleges has emerged. If the nations in the faculty of arts shared many ritualistic practices and motivations with religious confraternities, so colleges shared with medieval chantries and collegiate churches the rituals of the care for the souls of the dead. Colleges were religious communities as well as communities of learning, and prayers for the dead were a prominent part of their daily activities.

chapter 5

A Hidden Presence Women and the University of Paris

Despite what the title might seem to imply, this chapter does not produce evidence for the presence of female students and teachers at the medieval University of Paris. Women did teach in the faculties of medicine and law at the University of Bologna in the fourteenth century, and there was a case of cross-dressing in the faculty of arts at the University of Cracow in the fifteenth century, but there were no female teachers or students at Paris, with one possible exception that is discussed below.1 There were ways, however, in which women played important roles in the life of the University of Paris, which certainly would not have functioned as well without their contribution.

Women and Higher Education in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries From the late twelfth century on, educational opportunity for women remained largely what it had been in earlier centuries. Biblical study, 81

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the writings of the Fathers, and even works of pagan literature were present in the libraries of many female monastic communities as far back as the Carolingian period and continued in later centuries. And although his example is a rare one, Canon Fulbert was probably not unique in attempting to provide his niece Heloise with the best intellectual instruction available in early twelfth-century Paris when he arranged for Peter Abelard to be her teacher. What happened in the late twelfth and early thirteenth century was the expansion and institutionalization of higher education that led to professional careers. It was not so much a case of removing an educational opportunity for women that had been there earlier but rather not including them in a new opportunity that had previously not existed, namely, university education.2 One of the reasons for this lies in the institutional structure from which this newer educational opportunity emerged. At Paris its early background was the cathedral school, which had always been aimed at preparing men for the priesthood and positions in the church. And as a thirst for learning developed among young men who had the leisure and financial resources to seek instruction from a master, the number of private teachers in cathedral cities and various towns across northern France in the twelfth century expanded as well. On the supply side, the institutions from which these developments emerged were male only, such as cathedral schools and communities of canons, and on the demand side, the resources and mobility to take advantage of the opportunity were possessed by men. This was not so much a matter of conscious exclusion in the manner of the Taliban but rather that the circumstances in which the educational explosion took place as well as the careers to which higher education led, such as positions in cathedral chapters, collegiate churches, the episcopal office, royal and episcopal administration, or careers in law or medicine, were careers for men. Initially, I suspect, the question of extending that new educational opportunity to women did not even occur to the male teachers and their male students, although it did by the late thirteenth century. Another development was taking place across northern Europe in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries: the expansion of primary and grammar education in urban centers. The commercial revolution of that time required skills in reading, writing, and accounting. Moreover, inasmuch as many businesses were family operations in which the wife was a con-

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tributing member, a woman’s ability to read and write, to do bookkeeping, and to run the business when her husband was away or if he died was crucial to the success of the enterprise and the survival of the family. As a result, the education of daughters in those basic skills became important, both for their usefulness at home and for their marriageability. Education for women had for centuries been available in monasteries, but as elementary and grammar schools became more widespread in towns across Europe in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, it became available for girls as well as boys. The gender separation that was present in monastic education continued to be preserved. In the case of Paris by the fourteenth century and probably earlier, every parish in the city had one or more schools, for girls as well as boys. The taxationes domorum of 1286 mentions the school of Dame Annette d’Arke in the rue du Fouarre, and that of 1288 mentions the school of Dame Jahanna la Frissonne.3 The women are mentioned in these documents as property owners of schools, not necessarily as teachers, although that is also possible if these were schools for girls. Jahanna, however, appears in the taille, or tax roll, of 1292 as resident in the rue de Garlande alongside Perronele la Frisonne, both paying a substantial tax many times higher than what was paid by grammar teachers in the taille, suggesting that they were women of property rather than teachers by profession.4 It should also be noted that the school of Johanna la Frisonne was located in the same street, rue des Cordeliers, that contained houses of Beguines, who may have been involved in elementary teaching. The tailles do mention women who were teachers. The taille of 1292 indicates that “Tyfainne, mestresse de l’escole,” in the “rue où l’en cuit les Oës” (present-day rue aux Ours) in the section of the parish of Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs inside the walls of Philip Augustus was taxed at 2 sous.5 A woman named Rose was teaching at a grammar school in the parish of La Madeleine on the Île-de-la-Cité in 1297 and 1298.6 Tyfainne is again mentioned at the end of the taille of 1300 teaching at the same location but in a list of persons without indication of tax assessment.7 Teachers of girls were women and, like the men who were appointed to teach boys, received a license to teach at Paris from the cantor at Notre-Dame. By the mid-fourteenth century the university claimed authority over the grammar schools on the Left Bank sufficient to force

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them to cease teaching when the university went on strike.8 Some of these licenses have survived in the archives of the Sorbonne, small strips of parchment with the name of the teacher, the parish where he or she taught, the length of time for which the license was valid, and sometimes the street on which the classroom was located as well as the limit on the number of pupils.9 Where and how the female teachers received their training is unknown, but it was presumably in a similar grammar school in earlier years. The ratio of schools for girls to those for boys appears to have been low in the late thirteenth century but was one in three by the late fourteenth century. In the list of those taking the oath of office as grammar teachers in 1380, fully a third of those licensed in that year were women.10 The figure for the late thirteenth century is less certain. It has often been stated that of the twelve (actually thirteen) teachers identified as “de l’escole” in the taille of 1292, only one was a woman, Tyfainne. But if the “Avise” identified in that same taille as “la mestresse” meant that she was a grammar teacher, then the ratio would be one in seven.11 The term “la mestresse,” however, can be used as a surname of a widow or daughter of a man known as “le mestre” as well perhaps as an occupation. While firm evidence is lacking, the number of female grammar teachers in the late thirteenth century was probably higher than the number of those named, one reason for which may be that their income fell below the level set for tax purposes. Although we are speaking here about basic elementary education, it is impossible to know the extent to which that educational experience stimulated a desire in female pupils for further study. Whether it did or not, a knowledge of the writings of Aristotle and the art of scholastic disputation served no practical purpose for women in the eyes of most parents or those responsible for a female ward. Education served practical purposes, and learning for learning’s sake was rarely a factor. But the issue of advanced educational opportunity for women gradually emerged. The case of the woman who dressed as a man in order to enroll under a master in the faculty of arts at Cracow proves that some women did seek the higher learning that universities offered, but the institutionalization and professionalization of universities in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries reinforced the male-only structure.12 In the case of medicine, academic professionalization pushed out anyone offering medical services who was not academically trained, ex-

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amined, and credentialed to practice, men as well as women. In November 1311 King Philip the Fair, no doubt in response to the urging of one or more masters in the faculty of medicine, mandated this policy against anyone practicing surgery in Paris or the Île-de-France without a license.13 This was probably aimed at surgeon barbers as much as anyone else, but the first case that shows up in the documents, in February 1312, is that of Claricia of Rouen. Her medical knowledge came from experience, not from academic training, and she was excommunicated by the prior of Sainte-Geneviève, acting on behalf of the bishop of Senlis, the conservator of university privileges, for practicing medicine illicitly.14 Similar action was taken in June against her husband, Peter Faverel, who was also practicing medicine on the basis of experience alone.15 A decade later, in August 1322, Jacoba Felicie was fined for practicing medicine illicitly.16 In this instance the procurator for the dean of the faculty of medicine based his actions on a statute apparently dating to the 1220s that stated that no one who did not hold the degree of master of medicine and had been approved by the regent masters in the faculty of medicine and by the chancellor should dare to practice medicine in Paris or the surrounding area under pain of excommunication and a fine of 60 pounds.17 This was followed by a series of actions and, in 1325 and 1330, by Pope John XXII’s support for the university position.18 The case against Jacoba, who was practicing medicine in and around Paris without a degree, makes fascinating reading. It not only includes the record of the interrogation of Jacoba, but statements from those she had cured after they had been treated unsuccessfully by licensed doctors. It also includes the text of her defense against the dean and masters of medicine and their response to her. What we are observing here is the mostly successful attempt to enforce a monopolistic control of membership in a professional guild and over the practice of that profession. But in the case of women it had a particular ironic twist, a catch-22. They should not attempt to practice medicine without a medical degree, which they were prevented from obtaining because it required the degree in arts even to apply, and they were not permitted to study or take a degree in the faculty of arts. There is one piece of evidence for the possibility of a female member of the University of Paris mentioned earlier. In the financial collection for the university community during the academic year 1329–30, in which payments were recorded as the collectors went through the

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Latin Quarter street by street, house by house, there is mention of a woman by the name of Marote la Goge who was encountered by the collectors in the rue de la Harpe (now the boulevard Saint-Michel) near a southern gate of Paris and the colleges of Trésorier and Cluny.19 The collectors stated that her burse was large (“cuius bursa valde larga”). Denifle and Chatelain, who edited the document in an appendix in volume 2 of the Chartularium,20 transcribed the name as Marcus la Goge, assuming that the person had to be male, but the manuscript clearly has the name Marote, and the sobriquet “la goge” can only be for a woman or a girl, sometimes meaning “one who enjoys making love.”21 I remain doubtful that she was enrolled under a master at the university, and the fact that the entry, including the remark about the size of her burse, was circled and crossed out supports that. It is possible that she belonged to a profession, such as bookseller, illuminator, or schoolteacher, that was linked to the university and therefore obligated to contribute to the collection. It is more likely, however, particularly given the most common meaning of the sobriquet, that she was a prostitute known to the collectors, who thought it might be humorous to include her in their list. By the second half of the thirteenth century the absence of female students or teachers at the University of Paris seemed like an issue worth addressing, if for no other reason than to justify the status quo. Interestingly enough, the matter, as far as I am aware, does not appear in quodlibetal questions, where one might expect to find it because that genre of scholastic questions often concerned issues of current interest, but rather in the Summa Questionum of Henry of Ghent.22 He first asks whether a woman could be a doctor of theology.23 After listing a number of biblical quotations in support of the affirmative, he concludes the sic et non section with Paul’s statement in 1 Timothy that he would not permit a woman to teach.24 In his solution to the question Henry employs the distinction between the ability or capacity to do something considered by itself, de potentia absoluta, and what is permitted by law or recognized authority, de potentia iuris et auctoritatis or de potentia ordinata. De facto, anyone can teach what he knows, man or woman, old or young, religious or secular, cleric or layperson. But only those can teach de jure who are authorized to do so, ex officio, and for various reasons women (along with young people and the laity), in his view, are not suited to hold such an office. Henry does support women teaching privately, for example, in the

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home to children, or ex beneficio in certain situations, which would presumably include elementary education for girls as well as abbesses instructing their nuns, or prophesying if they were recognized to possess a special grace or gift. But to become a doctor of theology like himself and teach in that discipline was against church teaching. In a subsequent question Henry asks whether a woman should be allowed even to study theology, to be an auditor of Sacred Scripture, the first stage of the degree program in theology, pre-baccalaureate.25 Even here his answer is negative. Women need to know orthodox doctrine sufficient for the salvation of the soul, but this should be learned passively in church or through private instruction from those authorized to teach. He does not employ the argument that there is no point in women receiving training for a profession they cannot practice. Nor does he raise the issue of whether women should be allowed to study in the faculty of arts. Presumably his answers would again be negative. Whatever tensions might be stirred by the fact that the education of women in Paris at the elementary and grammar level did not lead to an opportunity for higher education, Henry chose not to discuss that. His concern is with the dangers of female higher education, not its opportunities. It has to be recognized that Henry is writing at a time of heightened concern about heterodox teaching, especially in female communities, such as came to a head in the opening years of the fourteenth century with the Beguines and the case of Marguerite Porete. Henry’s attitude was not entirely shared by other Parisian theologians of his generation, who saw the instruction of women in the religious life as an important mission for secular clerics and one that could, in turn, improve the religious life and spiritual understanding of the male secular clergy. Tanya Stabler Miller, in her book The Beguines of Medieval Paris, has documented a close connection between Robert of Sorbon and many of the early fellows of the college he founded and the Beguine community at Paris.26 A large number of sermons were preached at the Paris beguinage by Sorbonne masters, such as Robert himself, Godfrey of Fontaines, and John of Essônes. During the 1272–73 period Raoul of Châteauroux recorded many sermons preached in Paris by university scholars and others, and 25 percent of the fifty-four sermons preached between late October 1272 and November 1273 took place in the chapel of the beguinage.27 According to Stabler Miller, Robert “promoted the

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beguines as a model for the university cleric and explicitly tied this model to the administration of effective pastoral care.”28 By ministering to the spiritual needs of the Beguines, Sorbonne masters gained insights into religious experience and also earned merit by serving the spiritual needs of the brides of Christ. The Beguines, in turn, communicated what they learned to others inside and outside their houses. As Stabler Miller put it, Sorbonne masters “were drawn to beguines, both in the abstract as models of piety and as flesh-and-blood women eager to receive — and impart — religious instruction.” This did not lead any of the university masters to consider allowing Beguines or any other women into university classrooms for the study of philosophy, theology, law, or medicine. But if one considers the importance of pastoral care as part of the instruction of students in theology, then women at the beguinage and in parish churches received in vernacular form some of the fruits of the theological program of the university. The favorable attitude of some Parisian theologians toward Beguines in the late thirteenth century may have been one of the factors that led Marguerite Porete to submit her Mirror of Simple Souls to Godfrey of Fontaines for his approval.29

University Wives A half century ago, when professors in the sciences, social sciences, and even history departments were entirely or almost entirely male, the above subhead would bring to mind social organizations for faculty spouses, groups mostly if not entirely made up of women. And if the medieval University of Paris, both its students and professors, was composed of men with clerical status bound by a vow of celibacy, were there any women among their number in any capacity who were publicly acknowledged? Despite the fact that the Parisian university community was composed of male clerics and evidence for female students is lacking, there were some married couples, both among professors and laypersons who held an office within the university, and occasionally among students. Papal records reveal the names of several students who were married or who gave up their clerical status in order to marry and yet remained students.

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One such case is that of Henry Vavassoris (Henri le Vavasseur). In the fall of 1330 he along with three masters of arts, one of whom was also a regent master in medicine, petitioned the pope.30 Unlike the others, who were seeking an ecclesiastical benefice with or without care of souls, he asked for an office to which a layperson could be appointed. The group probably was among the nuntii who traveled to Avignon on behalf of the University of Paris that fall to present the list of supplications of masters, which was acted on in early February 1331.31 The group included John Buridan, perhaps nuntius for the Picard nation. Unlike the others, Vavassoris did not list an academic degree but identified himself as a married clerk (clericus coniugatus) from the Paris diocese. In all probability he was a beadle for the university, the arts faculty, or the French nation, and he sought the position of matricularia (sexton or custodian) in the cathedral of Reims.32 Beadles often accompanied nuntii on such missions in order to make their procession and entry into the papal palace more impressive and respected. The second time Vavassoris appears in the rotuli for the university was in August 1337, again in a group of nuntii, one representing the faculty of medicine and four others representing the nations in the arts faculty.33 Vavassoris’s name is the last, again identifying himself as a married clerk and still asking for the office of matricularia at Reims. Beadles were involved in the daily life of the university, leading processions, summoning people to meetings, opening meetings, keeping order, and other duties. Although not present herself on any of these occasions, except perhaps as a bystander, the wife of a beadle would presumably have considerable inside knowledge of what transpired within the university. A second case is that of John Danton the younger, subbeadle for the French nation in the faculty of arts in 1378. He supplicated in the first rotulus of the French nation sent to Pope Clement VII in Avignon at the beginning of the Great Schism. Like other beadles, he sought a benefice that was generally granted to a layperson, in this instance a matricularia or a custodial position in a house for lepers.34 He included his petition in the revised version of that rotulus, asking for the same type of provision.35 Surprisingly, in 1382 he petitioned for an ecclesiastical benefice, with or without care of souls, making no mention of his marital status.36 Either he was trying to cheat the system or he had, during the previous three years, obtained an annulment of his marriage or his

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wife had died. His supplication makes no mention of being a priest, but ordination to the priesthood could be delayed for a year after receiving a benefice with care of souls, and if this was his route to a parish living, he may have wanted to have the position in hand before committing himself to perpetual celibacy. His supplication was part of the university rotulus, so he was still connected to the university, although he did not claim any academic degree, nor did he mention the office of subbeadle. In 1387 we find his name again in the supplications of the French nation, identifying himself as a clerk from the Paris diocese and subbeadle for his nation but making no mention of being married.37 He claimed he had not received any ecclesiastical appointment from the expectation of a benefice with or without care of souls in the 1382 rotulus and was now asking for the same type of provision from the prior and chapter of the collegiate church of Saint-Martin at Champeaux-en-Brie. We can only assume that he was no longer in a married state. There is one case of a married master of arts, John of Olmis, from the diocese of Reims, who in 1371 was granted an expectation of a benefice, specifically a position as sexton or custodian, which could be held by a married cleric.38 There is no way of knowing whether he was married at the time he received his degree, whether he was still teaching in arts, or, as seems most likely, whether he married after receiving his degree and gave up his teaching position, but was allowed to petition for a benefice along with his former colleagues. He was not a beadle and was either teaching or had taught in the arts faculty. It is not inconceivable that Olmis had received a dispensation that allowed him to teach in arts while being married. William Carnificis de Savigniaco was a master of arts in 1362 when he obtained a papal provision as a canon with expectation of prebend in the collegiate church of Saint-Bartholomew in Beauvais.39 He subsequently studied medicine, became a regent master in that faculty, and then married.40 His colleagues in medicine sought to end his teaching career on the grounds that the faculty’s statutes prohibited married professors from lecturing. He was successful, however, in getting a papal dispensation in 1375 that allowed him to remain married and continue teaching.41 In 1379–80 he was still actively teaching at Paris in the faculty of medicine and still married and, instead of a clerical benefice, sought the rectorship of grammar schools in Abbeville, which did not require clerical status.42

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There is an even earlier case of a married professor of medicine at Paris. In April 1331 Pope John XXII responded to a petition from Mayninus de Maneriis of Milan, regent master in the faculty of medicine at Paris perhaps as early as 1326, who sought a papal dispensation to continue teaching while being married.43 Despite the statutory prohibition in the faculty of medicine that no married person could lecture as regent master, the pope granted the indulgence.44 There are other cases of university professors and personnel who were married, but they are too few to make much difference in the daily life of an essentially male institution. Their very presence, however, should be acknowledged and made part of the record.

Women in Trades Connected to the University Although evidence for the presence of women as members of the university community at Paris is lacking, those at the university depended on women to provide important services. Some of the landlords who rented rooms to students and masters were women, as the university records of rent assessments reveal.45 The tailles in Paris in the late thirteenth century reveal women in various trades and services that touched the lives of masters and students.46 Some tavern keepers were women, and laundresses were invariably so. Frequently candle makers were women, and female dealers in wax and candles outnumbered men in those trades. Considering the importance of candles in the religious life of the nations and colleges, women provided much of the means, the wax and candles, for the remembrance of the dead and devotion to Mary and the saints. One even finds women listed as carpenters and masons. The place of women in these latter trades, what we call the building industry today, has not had the attention it deserves. Some scholars have assumed that the mention of women as carpenters referred to those engaged in crafting small wooden religious objects, somewhat similar to the role of women in lace making or weaving. When one examines the evidence more closely, however, it becomes apparent that one is looking at carpentry as a business in the building trade, which would have been run by a husband and wife, and in case of the death of the husband, by his widow, who in turn employed skilled workers to do the physical

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labor. The same is true for those women identified as masons. In both these cases the woman mentioned was the employer, the head of a family business, which employed others to do the actual construction work. Presumably some of those must have had a role in the building or repair of the schools or colleges of medieval Paris. The most important trades connected with the university’s principal mission had to do with manuscript and book production. The research of Richard Rouse and Mary Rouse has turned up the names of many women involved in these trades.47 University masters, students, and convents associated with the university would have been among the principal consumers of Parisian parchment makers, at least twelve of whom were women. Booksellers are where we find the second largest group of women; they provided the university community with unbound quires of important texts for copying (the pecia system). As was true of the building trades (carpenters and masons), these are family businesses that employed others to do much of the work: stretching, scraping, and cutting in the case of parchment; maintaining the inventory and hiring scribes, illuminators, and bookbinders in the case of booksellers. In all of those categories we find the names of women. In most of these cases the woman helped her husband, and in the event of his death, she handled things by herself until a son or nephew was old enough to take over the business. A good example is the bookshop of the Sens family in rue Saint-Jacques, opposite the entrance to the Dominican convent. When it first appears in documents it was run by William of Sens and his wife, Margaret. After his death around 1270 she ran the business until her son Andrew succeeded her in the 1290s.48 This was the shop to which Thomas Aquinas and other Dominicans sent their work to be copied. Without that distribution outlet, the productivity of university masters and certainly the number of extant scholastic manuscripts would be far smaller.

Women as Founders of Colleges While most colleges were founded by men, there are some — indeed, quite important ones— that were founded or cofounded by women or had a woman as patron.49 Queen’s College Cambridge began in 1446 as

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a foundation of Henry VI, and in the following year it was moved to its present location.50 Its charter of foundation was rewritten in 1448, making Henry’s wife, Margaret of Anjou, the founder and patroness of the college. In 1475 it was again refounded by Queen Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV, who became its patroness and cofounder. Much of the endowment of the college came gradually through nonroyal benefactors, but in addition to being patroness, Elizabeth Woodville seems to have been responsible for the drafting of the earliest surviving statutes of the college. The role of a queen in the founding of Queen’s College Oxford more than a century earlier is less complex.51 The college was cofounded in 1341 by Queen Philippa, wife of Edward III, and her chaplain, Robert of Eglesfield, on whose Oxford property the college was established. She contributed to the college endowment and probably oversaw its first statutes, which were drafted by Eglesfield. Although Eglesfield has been credited in the scholarly literature as the founder, from the beginning the college was known as Queen’s Scholars Hall.52 The religious life of the college, which was to be centered on the yet to be built college chapel or a nearby church appropriated by the college, was to have thirteen chaplains, and all fellows were to take holy orders within a year and to be ordained in the priesthood within three years.53 In addition thirteen poor boys were to be choristers. The main responsibility of the chaplains was to hold daily services at the canonical hours and to hold solemn masses in which the names of benefactors of the college would be read, especially those of King Edward III, Queen Philippa as founder and patroness, and other benefactors, a category in which Eglesfield placed himself.54 This was to benefit their souls, both in life and in death. A large portion of the statutes was devoted to the number of services; the specific psalms, antiphons, and hymns to be sung; the vestments of the chaplains and choristers; and numerous other liturgical details.55 In addition, alms on behalf of college members were to be distributed to the poor.56 As an indication of priorities in college expenditures, the thirteen chaplains and thirteen choristers more than doubled the twelve fellows and the provost. As Hastings Rashdall remarked, “Altogether in Eglesfield’s statutes the charitable and religious aspect of the college decidedly predominates over the scientific.”57

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Perhaps the best examples from Oxford are the founding of two of its earliest colleges, Balliol and Merton. In the former case, John Balliol agreed to support a number of students at Oxford as the result of a judicial judgment against him. But it was after his death that his wife, Lady Devorgulla, the true founder of the college, continued the support of the students from her own financial resources and endowed the college with property and the resources for the buildings. In the case of Merton College, Ela Longespee, dowager countess of Warwick, along with her husband, Philip Basset, gave the college their manor at Thorncroft in 1266, and during the twenty-seven years after Philip’s death she continued support for both Merton and Balliol. Her gift to Balliol for the building of their chapel was significant, and in return for her gifts to Merton she received commemorative masses for the repose of her soul.58 Other examples at Cambridge are the founding of Clare Hall in 1326 by Elizabeth de Clare, granddaughter of King Edward I, and the founding of Pembroke College in 1347 by Marie de Saint-Pol, countess of Pembroke. As concerns the University of Paris, the Collège de Navarre was founded by Joan of Navarre, wife of Philip the Fair, the earliest college at Paris to be founded by a woman.59 The first stage of its founding came from a bequest in the testament of the queen, who died in 1305. Her will laid out the nature of the foundation, the appointment of fellows, and other statutory regulations that determined the scholastic and spiritual sides of college life. It was ten years, however, before King Philip, on 28 November 1314, the day before he died, and presumably in fear for his soul, ordered the release of funding for the hospital she founded in Château-Thierry and the establishment of the Collège de Navarre in Paris.60 Unlike the statutes for Queen’s College Oxford, the first statutes for the Collège de Navarre were drafted by the queen in her will. One of her stipulations was the establishment of a chapel on the college property, so that the fellows, those with burses, not only could but were obliged to attend masses on a weekly basis, on Sundays and feast days, and to chant the lessons at the canonical hours. While these statutory provisions may have been intended to ensure the religious life of the community, they were also intended to provide a praying, chanting community that would benefit the soul of the founder. Established at

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least as a plan in written form and sealed not long after the founding of the Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, many of the features for prayers in chapel described in the previous chapter apply to the Collège de Navarre. Absence from chapel resulted in a temporary loss of part of the burse, and frequent absence resulted in the loss of the entire fellowship. Throughout that ten-year delay in founding the Collège de Navarre, from the standpoint of most contemporary Christians and eventually Philip himself, Joan had not received the full benefit of her act of charity in wishing to found a large college at Paris, indeed the largest. Intention was one thing, the realization of that intention another. While Abelard and some later theologians might stress the sufficiency of intention when God assesses merit or demerit, the average person assumed that it mattered whether a good intention was brought to fruition, just as civil and ecclesiastical law was concerned with evil acts, not simply evil intentions. Until there was a community of scholars in place, with prayers and masses in chapel for the repose of her soul, Queen Joan was not receiving the true benefit of her legally binding intention. The only element missing from the picture of the praying community around the tomb of the founder discussed in the previous chapter is the burial place in the chapel. Since the actual creation of the Collège de Navarre was a pious commitment to be funded from the queen’s estate after death, there was no chapel in which her body could be buried. According to her wishes, she was buried at Cordeliers, the Franciscan convent, not far from the Hôtel de Navarre, one of her properties and the presumed site of her future college. Had the college been established at that location, as she had planned, her bodily remains would have been close to the community of scholars her endowment created. At her bedside before she died, King Philip, executor of her final testament, had signed and at her demand had others witness a document that he would execute her wishes, but he delayed ten years, until the moment of his own death, to fulfill his obligation. In keeping with the declaration against the dismemberment of the body with parts buried in different locations decreed by Pope Boniface VIII, who had died, humiliated by Philip, eighteen months earlier, she willed that her body be buried intact. When the college was finally created, it was on the other side of the Latin Quarter, higher on the hill near the church of SaintÈtienne-du-Mont and the monastery of Sainte-Geneviève, but her body

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was not moved there. Prayers for the repose of the soul of Joan of Navarre, however, were at the center of her foundation. As Gorochov described Joan’s will, “The heart of the college was the chapel, a building large enough to accommodate the seventy students being supported and there to fulfil their principal function: to pray each day for the salvation of the soul of the foundress.”61 A second Parisian college founded solely by a woman is the Collège de Bourgogne. Like Navarre, it was founded by a queen, Joan of Burgundy, who outlived her husband, King Philip VI. The foundation of the college, which she intended to be a work of charity similar to that of Joan of Navarre and to support scholars from Burgundy, occurred four years after her death in 1330, through the actions of two of the executors of her estate, Cardinal Pierre Bertrand and Nicholas of Lyra, OFM, doctor of theology. The Hôtel Nesle, also known as the Tour de Nesle, which she intended to become the college, was sold by Bertrand and Lyra, who bought another house across from the Franciscan convent for the site of the college.62 It was to be called the “domus scolarium dominae reginae Joannae de Burgundia,” and the chapel was dedicated to the Virgin. The college was composed of a master, a chaplain, and eighteen students in logic and natural philosophy. The master was to be a master of arts, or at least a licentiate in arts, and the chaplain was to celebrate in the chapel the divine office and masses for the repose of the souls of the queen, Philip VI, and benefactors to the college. Mass was to be celebrated daily in the chapel, with sung mass on feast days. All members of the college were to be in attendance at the three anniversary masses for the queen: one on 21 January, the date of her death, one on the Monday of the week after Easter, and one on the Friday after the feast of Saint Remy.63 Although the Colleges of Navarre and Bourgogne were the only ones at Paris founded solely by a woman, women did participate in the founding and endowing of other colleges at Paris, which are almost invariably described in the secondary literature as founded by men, occasionally lay, more often ecclesiastical. The house for Poor Scholars of Saint Thomas Martyr (Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre) was established by Robert, Count of Dreux, near the Louvre palace and the church of SaintThomas in or before 1186. The founding gift, which consisted of houses owned by Robert and his wife, Agnes, was granted along with supporting revenues from his wife and with the agreement of their heirs.64 King

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Philip Augustus, Robert’s nephew, along with the queen, confirmed the founding donation, which they recognized as coming from Robert and his wife. The gift of the property that eventually became the Dominican convent of Saint-Jacques in Paris was initially granted to the dean of Saint-Quentin by Simon of Poissy and his wife, Agnes, in order to create a charitable hospice for the poor and pilgrims and subsequently was transferred by the dean of Saint-Quentin to the Dominicans. In fact, in most cases in which a layman was founding a hospital or a college, his wife was effectively cofounder if for no other reason than joint ownership of property. Although we have no way of knowing her degree of enthusiasm for the founding, she would certainly have been aware that the spiritual rewards in the afterlife of providing for poor scholars in perpetuity would benefit her just as much as her husband. Even in the numerous cases in which a Parisian college was founded by a bishop or ecclesiastic, some if not most of the property acquired and given for the foundation belonged to his family or to the families of others associated in the foundation and endowment. And the women in those families who had ownership rights in those properties benefited spiritually in the afterlife from the liquidation of assets that created a house for poor scholars, a charitable act of mercy in the eyes of God. In accruing merit during one’s lifetime, spiritual accounts are individual, not collective or marital. A joint gift or donation by husband and wife accrues merit to each of them separately. We tend to think of a college at Paris or Oxford as a contained piece of property made up of quadrangles, with one main entry, just as one finds today at Oxford or Cambridge. But at the early stages of a college foundation, it was usually made up of many small houses acquired over a number of years, some adjacent to each other, some in nearby streets. It was usually across decades that the main part of such a property was transformed into a larger building and a plan that, in addition to dormitories or rooms, would have a chapel, a library, and a refectory. The collection of houses from which it eventually emerged would have been acquired at different times and from different persons. Some properties would have been owned or purchased by the founder; others would have been given to the founder or college by friends or those who wished to participate in such a charitable enterprise. And when one or more houses were donated by laypersons, it was a gift from husband and wife.

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This is particularly visible in the case of the Sorbonne, founded in 1257 by Robert de Sorbon, chaplain to Louis IX. Some of the houses were owned or bought by Robert with the help of St. Louis.65 Others were given by people who wished to participate in this act of charity on behalf of poor scholars. In the cases of houses being sold or donated, the name of the wife usually appears in the document alongside her husband’s, or if a widow, in her own name.66 In the case of the Collège du Cardinal Pierre Bertrand, generally referred to as the Collège d’Autun, the founding document described not only the properties given by the cardinal, his own townhouse with private chapel and adjacent properties as well as a large annuity, but also rental income given by others at the initial moment of foundation to add to the endowment.67 Among those donating were several couples ( husband and wife), in one case with a sister as donor. In three cases, widows, long after the death of their husbands, were giving rental income to the endowment in perpetuity, effectively placing the property under the control or ownership of the college. In the revisions of the statutes in 1348 additional private donors are listed, among them six husbands and wives, one widow, and one single woman.68 This pattern of college foundations in which the founder solicited and obtained gifts of property and income from others, many of them women, was not unique to the Sorbonne and the Collège d’Autun. In the case of gifts from a husband and wife, the agreement of the wife in the alienation of property or income in favor of a college may have been legally required because of joint ownership, but that does not change the fact that the wife was a donor and participated fully in the founding of the college. And, as we have seen, some of these female participants in college foundations, who are all but invisible if one does not read the entire text of the founding document, were acting solely on their own initiative. College foundations at Paris, and I suspect this was true at Oxford and Cambridge as well, are in many cases the result of donations from many women among the bourgeoisie, not simply the actions of queens and aristocratic women. In cases in which the foundation was achieved before the death of the founder, female founders and donors probably had visitation rights, just as was true for major female donors to monasteries throughout the Middle Ages. They were the exception to the rule prohibiting women

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from entering the college. Even so, their movements within the college were limited and monitored, and unless the college possessed guest quarters away from the rooms for fellows, staying overnight was not permitted. Although few women founded or helped found colleges, many noblewomen acted as patrons of individual scholars. Women in the higher aristocracy and royal family, queens, duchesses, and countesses, employed scholars and graduates in their households as secretaries, chaplains, legal counsellors, or physicians and supported them by supplicating the pope for benefices on their behalf in a list, or rotulus, and sometimes did so annually. While most of these scholars traveled with their patroness as part of her familia, some were “on leave” studying or teaching at Paris or other universities in various years. The number of times scholars referred to themselves in supplications as being “continually” or “without interruption” studying or teaching in a university faculty suggests that for many others universit y study was not an unbroken sequence of years but was interrupted by service to a patron, parish duties if they held a benefice with care of souls, family responsibilities, or financial problems, the latter probably the most common. Nevertheless, interruptions because of service to a patron or patroness was not infrequent for some of the best-funded students in the higher faculties of the University of Paris. One example of a scholar-client of a female patron is Richard de Beaumont, master of arts in the Norman nation at Paris by 1345 and subsequently a student in theology, who by 1359 was a royal clerk and secretary to Joan of Bourbon, wife of the dauphin Charles, and continued to serve her later when she became queen.69 By 1359, on leave from royal service, he had completed one of his years of lecturing on a book of the Bible and called himself a bachelor of theology, but the demands of his patroness between 1359 and 1369 did not permit him to deliver the required second year of biblical lectures or to lecture on the Sentences. To allow her secretary to complete his degree in theology in a manner that caused the least time away from his secretarial duties, Queen Joan petitioned Urban V in 1367 to press the chancellor at Paris to allow Richard to lecture on the Sentences in the summer of 1367 or 1368, despite the fact that he had only lectured one year as biblical cursor. Whether because of the reluctance of the queen to spare Richard’s

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service for a full year or because the chancellor or regent masters in theology opposed bending the rules that far, Richard did not lecture on the Sentences until 1369, when he did so for the full academic year. The queen, like many others in royal or princely circles, benefited from drawing on the talents of university-trained scholars. At the same time, the benefices his royal patroness showered upon him through papal provision paid for his university education in the faculty of theology. To conclude, women played a far larger role in the development and day-to-day life of the medieval University of Paris than has been recognized. If the image of Mary at the top of the Great Seal of the university was an acknowledgment of her central role in the scholarly and religious life of Parisian masters, a more thorough examination of the documents concerned with pre-university education, married students and teachers, and laywomen in support roles to the university community and the founding of colleges brings into focus a more complete picture of that institution. It could not have achieved its mission in European society without the presence and contribution of women. Although on the periphery of the universit y, women, as founders and donors to colleges and as patrons of scholars, were not outside the beneficial range of liturgy and prayers for the dead. The prayers for the founder and donors of a college benefited female founders and donors in exactly the same way and amount as their male counterparts. And within the familia of women in the higher aristocracy there were universitytrained chaplains whose duties were to pray for their souls and, if priests, to offer masses on their behalf and for those in their families, both living and dead. The rituals of religious devotion, which drew upon the training of university scholars as well as university-trained mendicants, were as important to medieval women as they were to medieval men.

chapter 6

The Growth of Marian Devotion

The importance of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the devotional life of the University of Paris has been mentioned frequently in the preceding chapters. She was central in the confraternal ceremonies of the nations in the faculty of arts and in the daily services in college chapels. And as shown here, by the late thirteenth century masters and students in the faculty of theology began to express particular devotion to the Virgin. The questions addressed in this chapter are whether that was a constant theme or whether it increased in the course of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and if so, in what areas of university life and what forms it took.

Dedications to the Virgin before 1200 Churches in France under the patronage or invocation of the Virgin date back at least to the eighth century.1 The dedication of the cathedral at Cambrai to the Virgin is mentioned in a diploma of Louis the Pious in 101

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816. Similarly, the dedication of the cathedral of Arras to the Virgin is attested in 833, and the cathedral of Tournai as well in an act of Charles the Bald in 855. For the whole of Gaul in late antiquity and the early Middle Ages Eugen Ewig counted 21 cathedrals dedicated to the Virgin out of a total of 112, thus a frequent dedication but one among many others.2 As one approaches the eleventh and twelfth centuries the number and the percentage increase. Charles Mériaux calculated that by the year 1000 a quarter of the churches in northern France were dedicated to the Virgin. In his view that increase may have been a result of the actions of bishops, whose cathedral churches were dedicated to the Virgin, founding or gaining control over churches in their dioceses. In light of the continued increase in dedications to the Virgin in the course of the twelfth century, Marian dedications may just as well be evidence simply of a growth in Marian piety. It has long been recognized that devotion to Mary, both as mother of God and queen of heaven, was a strong element in the religious life of the twelfth century. This can be seen in the dedication or rededication to Our Lady of monasteries, cathedrals, collegiate churches, and parish churches. Examples are the numerous Cistercian foundations under the influence of Bernard of Clairvaux, who expressed a particular devotion to Mary. Dedications of collegiate churches to the Virgin began as early as the sixth century, but it was in the eleventh and twelfth centuries that there was a veritable explosion of collegiate foundations, a significant number of which were dedicated to Notre Dame, either solely, which was generally the case, or sometimes in combination with a saint.3 Similarly, while Chartres is known to have been dedicated to the Virgin since the eighth century, the number of cathedrals dedicated to Notre Dame increased in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, particularly in northern France, as a result of rededication.4 By 1200 those bearing that name include Amiens, Arras, Bayeux, Cambrai, Chartres, Coutances, Évreux, Laon, Lille, Noyon, Paris, Reims, Rouen, and Senlis.5 It is significant that these are all in north and north central France, three in the area around Paris, six in Picardy, four in Normandy, and one in Champagne. Among cathedrals in the same regions not named in honor of Our Lady are Meaux (Saint-Étienne) and Sens (SaintÉtienne), Beauvais (Saint-Pierre) and Soissons (Saint-Gervais et SaintProtais), Le Mans (Saint-Julien), Angers (Saint-Maurice), Lisieux

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(Saint-Pierre), Orléans (Sainte-Croix), Tours (Saint-Gatien), and Bourges (Saint-Étienne). If a church, whether cathedral, collegial, or parish, was dedicated or rededicated to the Virgin by 1200, it retained that dedication into the modern period in most cases. Sculptural evidence from tympana or capitals as well as stained-glass windows reveals much about religious themes and conceptions at the time of their creation, but unless they were destroyed and replaced at a later date with a different iconography, they tell us nothing about subsequent changes in religious attitudes. Consequently, such evidence tells us much about the increasing devotion to the Virgin in the eleventh, twelfth, and early thirteenth century but nothing about changes or fluctuations in Marian devotion later in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries except where a new foundation was dedicated or a new iconographic program was created in stone, glass, or wood. The same problem faces us with regard to the iconography on seals of institutions or corporations that existed before 1250, since once the matrix was cast, that image remained fixed across generations as long as the seal matrix continued in use. And even in cases where a seal of a corporate body had to be recast for some reason, the pattern was to reproduce the original image. For example, a later fourteenth-century recasting of the Great Seal of the University of Paris has the identical image to the one from the mid-thirteenth century. The same applies to the seals of the faculties and nations within the University of Paris. A different but related problem occurs when we look at colleges for changes in religious attitudes or forms of devotion, especially in the thirteenth century. Few colleges were dedicated to Mary, none in the thirteenth century and only two in the fourteenth. The stronger tendency was to name a college after the founder or founders’ family, or to name it according to the diocese from which scholars were to be chosen. And while there are a few colleges at the opening of the thirteenth century coincidental with the emergence of the University of Paris, most colleges were founded in the fourteenth century. With dedications of college chapels one has a better indicator of naming tendencies beyond the name of the college itself, since chapels require dedication to a saint, a person of the Trinity, or Mary. But chapel dedications are almost entirely fourteenth-century evidence, which says nothing about changes or lack thereof in the thirteenth century.

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The Image of the Virgin on Individual Seals The use of seals by individuals, as distinct from those of institutions, can provide evidence that is more chronologically precise. With every personnel change in a position or dignity in a cathedral or collegiate chapter, there is the opportunity for the new occupant of that office to choose the iconography for a seal. Similarly, when a person received a new academic title within a university by reason of promotion or election, that person had a choice about the image and inscription to be placed on his seal. Even allowing for the influence of standard models across decades and half centuries from which an individual might choose, discernible shifts in iconography, religious or otherwise, can be significant. And the changing imagery used on seals of masters holding an ecclesiastical office in the late twelfth and thirteenth century gives one a fore-model of what happened within the university community in the course of the thirteenth century. One has to recognize, however, that canons, deans, and archdeacons were influenced in their choice of seal design by what others were using or had been using in previous years and decades, and the same probably applies to masters at universities who did not hold an ecclesiastical office or position. But if the balance among standard images changed across two or three decades, that would indicate a noteworthy shift, religiously and intellectually. It must be acknowledged that the seals that have survived are only a portion of those that once existed and that the dates given here are those of the documents to which the surviving seal is attached, not the date at which the seal matrix was created. Thus conclusions about when and where a particular image appears and what institutions and offices might have favored it cannot be definitive. On the other hand, a high percentage of examples from a particular region, at a particular time, and for particular offices and collegiate bodies, which is what we do have, is of considerable significance. The use of the image of the Virgin or Virgin and Child first appears on seals of cathedral and collegiate chapters, beginning in the midtwelfth century. Examples can be found before the end of the twelfth century on the seal of the chapter at Notre-Dame in Paris by 1146 ( Virgin alone), at Notre-Dame at Chartres by 1170 ( Virgin and Child), and at Notre-Dame at Laon by 1181 ( Virgin and Child) and on the

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seals of the chapter of Notre-Dame at Rouen ( Virgin alone), the chapter of Notre-Dame at Évreux ( Virgin and Child), and the chapter of Notre-Dame at Étampes ( Virgin and Child).6 What is noteworthy, as one moves into the early thirteenth century, is both the rapid increase in the number of seals displaying the Virgin or Virgin and Child and the fact that all these seals belong to chapters of cathedrals or collegiate churches in the Île-de-France, Normandy, and the archbishoprics of Reims and Rouen.7 While the obverse of seals of bishops in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries usually retained the traditional image of the bishop, standing, face forward, with miter and crozier, the image of the Virgin, or the Virgin and Christ Child, begins to appear at the beginning of the thirteenth century on the counterseals of bishops in south central France and then in the Île-de-France, Normandy, and Champagne.8 The earliest seal connected with the University of Paris on which the image of Mary appears is the Great Seal of the University (fig. 10). The earliest surviving wax image of the entire seal, which has been printed and discussed many times, is attached to a document of 1292.9 Fragments of the seal from the same matrix are found on documents from 1281 and 1253. This means that the image on the seal as of 1292 is the same image that was chosen and engraved on the seal that was created soon after 1246, when Pope Innocent IV granted permission for the university to again have a seal. And in all probability that seal was similar if not identical to the image that was on the first seal of the university, in use by 1220 until the matrix for that seal was destroyed by the papal legate in Paris, Romano Frangipani, cardinal deacon of Saint Angelo, in 1225.10 The iconographic structure of the seal is hierarchical. Various figures are placed in architectural niches, with the crowned Virgin at the top, holding the Christ Child in her left arm and a rod with the fleurde-lys in her right hand, seated on a bench along with the symbols of the sun and moon.11 She is flanked by the figure of a bishop with miter and crosier to her right, usually interpreted to be St. Nicholas, and St. Catherine to her left, below which in niches are teaching masters seated in magisterial chairs before a book on a lectern (the dominant image on early magisterial seals), and in the niches along the bottom edge are students with books and students in debate, some seated on the

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Figure 10. Great Seal of the University of Paris attached to a document of 1292 (Paris, AnF, K 964, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

floor and others on stools. The figure on the left in the right niche of the central section at the bottom appears to be seated on a chair, shorter and less elaborate than those of the masters, perhaps indicating a bachelor in the act of lecturing. The Great Seal of the University of Paris is the earliest university seal to use this iconographic program and one of the earliest examples of what soon came to be a standard design motif on many seals of academic and ecclesiastical persons and institutions.12 The image of the Virgin and Child also appears on the seal of the French nation, along with the figure of the chosen saint of the nation, William, archbishop of Bourges, beneath her and scholars listening to a lecture at the bottom (fig. 11). She is on the seal of the Norman nation, saving a scholar from shipwreck, with the scene of the coronation of

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Figure 11. Cast of the seal of the French nation at Paris (sc/D 8017) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

the Virgin at the top and kneeling scholars in prayer at the bottom (fig. 12). She is on the seal of the Picard nation, with Michael Archangel below, along with the figures of Sts. Piatus and Firmin (fig. 13). And on the seal of the English nation she appears in the scene at the top, representing the coronation of the Virgin (fig. 14). These seals are from a document from the late fourteenth century, but the nations were known to have had seals by 1254.13 There is no way of knowing for certain whether the matrix used by each nation for the fourteenth-century seal impressions was the same as the one used in 1254, but since corporations usually retained the same iconographic design when they had the matrix of their seal reengraved, as the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century examples of the seals of the University of Paris confirm, it is likely that three of the seals of the nations at Paris by the mid-thirteenth century bore the image of the Virgin and Child, and the fourth the coronation of the Virgin.14 The image of the Virgin and Child occupies the central space on the seal of the faculty of arts, the surviving example of which is from the early sixteenth century but which for the same reason that applies to the seals of the nations is likely to resemble that which appeared on the seal

Figure 12. Cast of the seal of the Norman nation at Paris (sc/D 8018) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 13. Cast of the seal of the Picard nation at Paris (sc/D 8019) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 14. Cast of the seal of the English-German nation at Paris (sc/D 8016) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

of the faculty of arts in the thirteenth century (fig. 15). Similarly, the seal of the faculty of decrees on the document from the late fourteenth century shows the Virgin and Child at the top, beneath which is the traditional image of the doctor lecturing to students (fig. 16), an image also found on the seals of the French, Picard, and English nations. The seals of the other two faculties at the University of Paris, both attached to that same document from the late fourteenth century, do not adopt a Marian iconography. The seal of the faculty of theology has the image of the resurrected Christ, flanked by angels holding the implements of the crucifixion, and with the symbols of the four gospels at the corners (fig. 17). The image on the seal of the faculty of medicine also seems not to include the figure of the Virgin (fig. 18). Although Douët D’Arcq interpreted the central figure as the Virgin, crowned and seated on a bench, holding a branch in her right hand and an open book in her left, it is more likely that it is Sophia, the branch and book being the symbols of the teacher. The scholars beneath her on her right are engaged in study, one pointing to the figure of Wisdom in connection to the book he is reading. The corresponding figure on her lower left with raised hands could be interpreted as engaged in disputation with the figure opposite

Figure 15. Cast of the seal of the faculty of arts at Paris, early sixteenth century, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 16. Cast of the seal of the faculty of decrees at Paris (sc/D 8021) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 17. Cast of the seal of the faculty of theology (sc/D 8020) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 18. Cast of the seal of the faculty of medicine (sc/D 8022) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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him, or responding in awe at what he is learning. None of the scholars depicted on the seal is kneeling with hands clasped in prayer or supplication, which is the usual pose of scholars on seals depicting the Virgin or Virgin and Child, with the exception of the Great Seal of the University of Paris, and found in the bottom niche on the seal of the Norman nation (see fig. 12, above). As shown later in this chapter, a crowned Sophia is not iconographically unknown in the thirteenth century. Returning to the image of the Virgin on the Great Seal of the University of Paris, the argument has been put forward that Mary was not perceived simply as patron and protector of scholars, but was acknowledged as their source of learning, their teacher.15 There are occasional statements to that effect by twelfth- through fifteenth-century authors, most notably by John of Garland in the early thirteenth century, which some scholars have reinforced with two iconographic images. One image is that of Mary in scenes of the Annunciation reading a book, which sometimes rests on a lectern. If the frequent profile image of a master with an open book on a lectern used on seals from the late twelfth to late thirteenth century and found on the Great Seal of the University of Paris emphasizes the role of teacher, why not the similar profile of Mary at the Annunciation. But that depiction of Mary is of a person interrupted in devotional reading, or of one reading in order to understand the prophecies that foretold the Incarnation and meditating on them, pondering them in her heart.16 Mary is not instructing the angel Gabriel, rather the reverse, while the figure of a master in profile on seals of university masters in the late twelfth and early thirteenth century (see below, figs. 33–36) and on the counterseals of the Norman nation (fig. 19) and the faculties of decrees (fig. 20) and medicine (fig. 21), with book and lectern, often gesturing with the hand, is the image of a teacher. The other image used to support the argument that Mary was viewed as teacher is that of Mary as Sedes sapientiae, the seat or throne of Wisdom, found on tympana and in stained-glass windows at Chartres and elsewhere in the twelfth century.17 But that expression, sedes sapientiae, did not mean that Mary was Wisdom but the abode or tabernacle of Wisdom, the Incarnate Christ. She is Mother and Queen through whom Christ, the true Wisdom, entered the world. But this terminology has soft boundaries, and the seat of Wisdom can easily be understood as the source of Wisdom and thus Wisdom or Sophia herself.

Figure 19. Cast of the counterseal of the Norman nation (sc/D 8018bis) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 20. Cast of the counterseal of the faculty of decrees (sc/D 8021bis) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 21. Cast of the counterseal of the faculty of medicine (sc/D 8022bis) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Compare, for example, the image of the Virgin in the rose window of the north transept at the cathedral of Chartres (fig. 22) with the image of Philosophia in the rose window of the north transept at the cathedral of Laon (fig. 23).18 The Chartres window shows Mary crowned and seated on a simple bench, holding the Christ Child on her left side and the scepter topped with the fleur-de-lys in her right hand. On the outside edge of the central circle are twelve smaller circles, each with a fleur-de-lys. Outside that are twelve large circles, four with doves and eight with angels, two of whom are holding candles and two of whom are using censers. The corresponding window at Laon contains the image of Philosophia, again seated on a bench, with the ladder of the seven liberal arts on her front from her shoulders to the floor. In her left hand she holds an open book, as on the seal of the faculty of medicine at Paris, and in her right hand a staff or rod whose top is flowering. Normally in depictions of Philosophia or Sophia, that symbol would be a branch or switch, the rod of discipline, but here it is a staff or scepter, topped with a more elaborate fleur-de-lys. Like the corresponding window at Chartres, the circle with the image of Philosophia at Laon is

Figure 22. Rose Window in North Transept, Chartres Cathedral, ca. 1220.

Figure 23. Rose Window in North Transept, Laon Cathedral, ca. 1200.

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surrounded by circles, in this case eight, with geometric designs. It is important to note, however, that Philosophia is depicted here, as she normally is, without a crown. A closer merging of the images of Mary and Philosophia can be seen by comparing the image of Mary in the north transept at Chartres (fig. 22), or her image in the central panel in the south wall of the choir at Chartres (the Belle Verrière, mid-twelfth century, fig. 24), with the illumination of Philosophia in a late twelfth-century manuscript of Boethius’s Consolation of Philosophy (fig. 25).19 In the illumination Philosophia wears a crown similar to that worn by Mary, Queen of Heaven, and holds a scepter topped with the fleur-de-lys, again often found with images of Mary, including the two images in the windows at Chartres and in the image on the Great Seal of the University of Paris (fig. 26). Each point on Mary’s crown in the Belle Verrière is a fleur-de-lys, while

Figure 24. Belle Verrière, South Choir, Chartres Cathedral, twelfth century, photograph by Henri de Feraudy and reproduced with his permission.

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in the illumination of Philosophia the points are abstract, round balls, but the placement is identical. While the provenance of the Leipzig manuscript was earlier thought to be from the Benedictine abbey of Pegau in Saxony, or the Saxon Cistercian abbey of Altzelle, and dated to the thirteenth century, it has more recently been dated to the second half of the twelfth century and from the greater Paris region by Christoph Mackert at Leipzig. The scribal hand in the manuscript dates it to the late twelfth century or the opening of the thirteenth, while the st yle of the illumination and the details mentioned above

Figure 25. (left) Philosophia, illumination in Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek, Cod. lat. 1253, f. 3r, reproduced with the permission of Christoph Mackert, director of the Handschrift Abteilung der Universitätsbibliothek Leipzig. Figure 26. (above) Cast of the Great Seal of the University of Paris (sc/D 8013) attached to a document of 1292 (Paris, AnF, K 964, no. 1) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 27. Counterseal of the University of Paris attached to a document of 1292 (Paris, AnF, K 964, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

show the influence of depictions of Mary and Philosophia as seen in the windows at Chartres and Laon. That same association of Mary and Sophia is reflected in the counterseal of the University of Paris, also in use by the early 1250s, and found on the reverse side of the wax image of the Great Seal attached to the document of 1292 (fig. 27). The image is of Philosophia seated on a throne rather than standing, as in the manuscript illumination, and thus parallels depictions of Mary as Sedes sapientiae but without a crown. She appears to be holding a book in the same way that Mary often cradles the Christ Child. And in her right hand she holds the fleur-de-lys, as found in many images of Mary enthroned and in the manuscript illumination of Philosophia (fig. 28).20 The inscription on the counterseal reads Secretum Philosophiae. Sophia was always conceived and depicted

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Figure 28. Close-up of counterseal of the University of Paris attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

as a female figure and as a source of knowledge. Thus, if one is looking for evidence that university masters in thirteenth-century Paris thought it conceivable that a woman could teach, one need only recognize the important role that Sophia, or Philosophia, represented for male medieval scholars, an image stretching back to Boethius and beyond and one that iconographically sometimes resembled images of Mary as Sedes sapientiae and Queen of Heaven.

Marian Devotion as Evidenced in College Statutes Given the degree of attention to Mary on university seals whose iconographic program is found on matrices from the thirteenth century, her relatively late appearance in college statutes is surprising; it occurs at

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the end of the thirteenth century in the context of expanded attention to liturgical obligations and anniversary masses. One of the earliest college foundations at Paris, the Collège de Saint-Honoré, was dedicated to Christ, the Virgin, and Saint Martin.21 But dedications to the Virgin or feasts and services in her honor are not otherwise mentioned in the statutes of colleges founded before 1300, including the Sorbonne. That changes in the early fourteenth century, when statutes demonstrated an explosion of attention to religious services, prayers, and masses on behalf of the founder or founders and benefactors, and frequent mention of services in honor of the Virgin, who stands as an advocate for souls, the Mother of Mercy, at the time of the Last Judgment. It may be that services connected to events in the life of the Virgin were present in the daily life of thirteenth-century colleges and simply failed to be mentioned in the statutes. Just because thirteenth-century statutes say almost nothing about liturgical observances does not necessarily mean that colleges in that period did not hold a vesper service in the college chapel on Friday in honor of the Virgin, celebrate a mass in honor of the Virgin on Saturday, or celebrate the Marian feasts throughout the year. But at the very least, the extensive treatment of obligatory services in honor of the Virgin in fourteenth-century college statutes, in contrast to the silence in statutes from the thirteenth century, marks an important shift in what college founders thought was important and expected to be observed, and which therefore needed detailed description. The heightened attention to religious observances in fourteenthcentury statutes, beginning around 1300, is remarkable. While the statutes of the colleges of Lemoine (1302), Cholets (1303), and Harcourt (1312) give attention to liturgical obligations, especially those connected to masses for the founders, services in honor of the Virgin receive no specific attention. In Joan of Navarre’s statutes for her college (1305), however, there is specific mention of the celebration of the feasts for the Virgin, but they are mentioned among many other feasts to be observed during the year.22 In 1307, falling in line with the practices of more recent colleges, the fellows of the Sorbonne passed legislation that on every Saturday a mass would be celebrated, cum nota, in honor of the Virgin, with the singing of the Salve sancta parens.23 And in October 1347 the chapel of the Sorbonne was dedicated to the Virgin.24

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In colleges founded in the 1320s and 1330s attention to the Virgin is more pronounced. The Collège de Presles (1324) was founded under the joint patronage of St. James and the Virgin Mary. The statutes of its twin foundation, the Collège de Laon, dating to 1327, require the hours of the Virgin to be said daily in chapel.25 The chapel of the Collège de Bourgogne (1332) was dedicated to the Virgin, observance of the feasts of the Virgin were specifically mentioned, and on Saturday, after compline, the antiphon Salve Regina was to be sung solemniter et devote.26 In the statutes of John of Hubant’s college, Ave Maria, as has already been noted, the Virgin was to be commemorated through prayers and chanted services almost continually throughout every day. Similar attention was given to liturgy and services in honor of the Virgin in the statutes of colleges founded in the 1340s and 1350s. The chapel in the Collège d’Autun, Cardinal Pierre Bertrand’s foundation, was dedicated to the Virgin (capella Beate Marie), the five feasts for the Virgin were celebrated, and the antiphon Salve Regina was sung each evening at compline, as it was at the Collège de Cambrai.27 At Boncour the hours of the Virgin were to be said daily.28 The chapel in the Collège de Boissy was dedicated to the Virgin, all her feasts were observed, and she was honored in other services observed weekly.29 Later foundations continued these observances. The Collège de Dormans (1370) chanted the antiphons and prayers to the Virgin each evening, the Salve sancta parens as well as the Salve Regina.30 The Collège de Maître-Gervais (1378), whose chapel was dedicated to the Virgin and whose seal bore her image, called itself “collegium scolarium beate Marie.” Services in honor of Mary were celebrated daily and weekly, and after disputations in the college, the antiphon Ave, regina celorum was sung.31 Despite the increased importance of Marian devotion in the liturgical life of Parisian colleges in the fourteenth century, very few seem to have adopted the image of the Virgin and Child on their seals or those of their officers.32 Most of the seals that have survived show the image of the founder, as on the seals of the Collège de Navarre and the Collège de Dainville, or the saint to whom the college was dedicated, as on the seals of the Collège de Saint-Nicolas-du-Louvre and the Cistercian Collège de Saint-Bernard. The Great Seal of the Collège de Navarre, known from a later recasting (fig. 29), is of particular interest in the

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Figure 29. Cast of the seal of the College of Navarre (sc/F 6642), reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

context of the previous chapter. It shows the kneeling queen, presented to St. Louis by a crowned St. Catherine, offering the college to the Capetian saint. St. Nicholas, the other saint alongside Catherine revered by the whole university, is not included. At the top is a heraldic shield with the arms of Navarre and Champagne, and at the bottom a master with an open book on a lectern. Two of the surviving seals connected to colleges have the image of the Virgin and Child. One is the seal of Artaud, prior of the Collège de Cluny, attached to a document of 1301 (fig. 30). It shows the Virgin and Child with the praying figure of the prior below. In the same period Walter of Gamaches, the regent master of the college in 1308, chose for his seal the figures of saints Peter and Paul, the patron saints of Cluny (fig. 31). His was one of the very few seals of masters of theology attached to their response to King Philip IV in 1308 concerning the Templars that does not have the image of the Virgin and Child, discussed below. The seal of the Collège de Dormans is another example that adopted the Virgin and Child (fig. 32). Although the image shown here is from a

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Figure 30. Cast of the seal of Artaud (sc/D 8030), prior of the College of Cluny, reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 31. Seal of Walter of Gamaches attached to a document of 1308 (Paris, AnF, J 413, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

document dated around 1589, it is presumed that the choice of iconography for the seal was made soon after the founding of the college in 1370. The image on the seal shows a group of scholars kneeling in prayer with folded hands before the Virgin and Child, with the figure of the founder, Jean de Dormans, bishop of Beauvais, behind them. Although surviving examples of Marian iconography on college seals are few, they demonstrate her importance to some of the colleges, in addition to her prominent place in the liturgical life of Parisian colleges in the fourteenth century.

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Figure 32. Cast of the seal of the College of Dormans (sc/St 1526), reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Marian Iconography on Magisterial Seals The seals of individual masters, especially regent masters in theology, tell a somewhat different story, both in the timing of the appearance of the Virgin on seals and in the meaning of their iconography. At the opening of the thirteenth century the predominant image found on the seals of Parisian masters is of the master in profile seated on his magisterial chair, with an open book, often resting on a lectern.33 Some versions of that image emphasize study, such as those of Peter of Poitiers, regent master of theology and chancellor at Paris in 1200 (fig. 33), and Simon of Kaine, master of arts, whose seal is attached to a document of 1233 (fig. 34). Others, such as the counterseal of the faculty of decrees (fig. 35) or the seal of John of Blanot (Blanosco) on a document of 1272, with the gesturing hand, emphasize teaching (fig. 36). This image abounds in the late twelfth and early thirteenth century and can still be found on a few magisterial seals as late as the fifteenth century. But around the midthirteenth century seals of masters began to adopt the image of the Virgin or the Virgin and Child. Among the earliest are two seals of Master Henry Tuebeuf, canon of the collegiate church of Saint-Marcel and the cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris. In his capacity as a canon

Figure 33. Seal of Peter of Poitiers attached to a document of 1196 (Paris, AnF, L 908, no. 61), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 34. Cast of the seal of Simon of Kaine (sc/D 8065) attached to a document of 1233 (Paris, AnF, S 6827, no. 32) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 35. Cast of the counterseal of the faculty of decrees (sc/D 8021bis) attached to a document of 1398 (Paris, AnF, J 515, no. 14) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 36. Seal of John of Blanot attached to a document of 1272 (Paris, AnF, J 252, no. 5), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 37. Cast of the seal of Henry of Teubuef (sc/D 7809), canon of Saint-Marcel, attached to a document of 1241 (Paris, AnF, S 2168, n. 4) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

of Saint-Marcel he attached his seal for that office to a charter of 1241 (fig. 37). The image is of the Virgin, seated in profile to the left, holding the Christ Child on her knees, who in turn blesses a kneeling person. On his seal as a canon of Notre-Dame, attached to the will of Isabel of Beaumont in 1248, the same image is used (fig. 38).34 Another early example is that of Adenulf of Anagni, nephew of Pope Gregory IX, who was a canon at Paris, papal chaplain, and master of arts by 1253.35 He was at Paris in 1253 and in that year appended his seal to a judgment in favor of the abbey of Saint-Victor (fig. 39), which he joined toward the end of his life.36 He studied theology at Paris and became regent master by 1282, possibly as early as 1272.37 The image on his seal is of the Virgin and Child, with Adenulf as suppliant beneath her.38 Another example is the seal of Master Baldwin of Aumale, a fragment of which is still attached to a document of 1279 (fig. 40).39 The image is of the Virgin and Child, but since the bottom portion of the seal is missing, it is impossible to tell whether a figure of a suppliant was also present. While we know

Figure 38. Cast of the seal of Henry of Teubuef (sc/D 7787), canon of Notre-Dame, attached to a document of 1248 (Paris, AnF, L 1014) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 39. Cast of the seal of Adenulf of Anagni (sc/D 7788), canon of NotreDame, attached to a document of 1253 (Paris, AnF, L 1478) and reproduced with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 40. Seal of Baldwin of Aumale attached to a document of 1279 (Paris, Bibliothèque de la Sorbonne, carton XXII Z.1.6), photograph by author with permission of the département des manuscrits, Bibliotèque de la Sorbonne.

that Master Baldwin was from Normandy and attached to the Collège du Trésorier, we do not know in which faculty he was master. The document bearing the largest number of seals of masters of theology, albeit in fragmentary state, is the response of fourteen regent masters in theology in March 1308 to questions that had been posed by King Philip IV regarding the Templars. What is most remarkable is that almost all the seals whose image can be recognized depict the Virgin or Virgin and Child. Three examples are the seal of Master William Alexander, who was also a canon at Notre-Dame in Paris (fig. 41), that of Master James of Thérines, who was also abbot of the Cistercian monastery of Charlieu (fig. 42), and that of Master Gerard of Bologna, prior general of the Carmelite Order as well as the Carmelite regent master (fig. 43). Not all regent masters in theology at that time signed the response, presumably because they disagreed with the views of the majority of their colleagues. But the predominant iconography of the Virgin and Child on the seals of the Parisian theologians who did sign the response in 1308 is quite remarkable. In contrast to meanings that might be drawn from the mixture or fusion of iconographic symbols for Mary and Sophia discussed above, the image of Mary on the seals of Parisian theologians, beneath whom the masters are kneeling, is probably not Mary as teacher but Mary as mother of mercy who interceded with her son or could act independently on behalf of the faithful, including scholars.

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Figure 41. Seal of William Alexander attached to a document of 1308 (Paris, AnF, J 413, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

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Figure 42. Seal of James of Thérines attached to a document of 1308 (Paris, AnF, J 413, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

Figure 43. Seal of Gerard of Bologna attached to a document of 1308 (Paris, AnF, J 413, no. 1), photograph by author with permission of the Archives nationales, France.

An example of the latter is found in the Commentum de laudibus Virginis of Conrad of Megenberg, master of arts and student in theology at Paris, who left Paris in 1342 for a teaching position in Vienna without finishing his degree and wrote this work in the 1360s while a canon at Regensburg.40 In this work he recounted events in 1339 when, while visiting his family in Germany and lacking money to return to Paris and

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pursue his studies, he considered selling inherited land to the detriment of his brothers. He avoided doing so through a financial gift from a friend, which he interpreted as an intervention of the Virgin Mary in response to his prayers to her. As he told it, he had a vision or dream in which a person, bound hand and foot, was released from his chains by reciting the Ave Maria. He followed the example, and it was only after his recitation of the angelic salutation that he received the money.41 For Megenberg, and he was undoubtedly not alone in this belief among his colleagues at Paris, devotion to Mary was central to religious understanding and practice. In the course of the thirteenth century and increasingly in the fourteenth the masters at the University of Paris expressed their devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. That spiritual attitude had its roots in the twelfth century, as has been shown, and first became evident within the university in the choice of images for the Great Seal and the seals of most of the faculties and nations. For much of the thirteenth century, however, whatever Marian piety existed was not codified in the statutes of colleges or expressed on the seals of individual masters until the fourteenth century, which marks an important moment of transition, at least for the university community, in the role Mary played in the lives of Parisian scholars. The University of Paris itself was thought of as female, not because universitas, facultas, and natio are all feminine nouns, but because it was alma mater, the nursing mother, to its members and former members and the devota filia, the devoted daughter, to the pope. In addition to the Virgin, one of the two saints revered by the university was a woman, St. Catherine. Catherine received reverence (dulia), while the Virgin received special reverence (hyperdulia), as distinct from worship (latria), which was appropriate only for the persons of the Trinity. But, as noted in the previous chapter, that did not carry over into admission of women into the classroom, despite the fact that both Mary and Catherine were thought to be learned. The sense of protection the university provided to its members, even as mother became daughter in relation to the highest ecclesiastical authority, was, however, expressed in their image of Mary as the nourishing protector. She oversaw the academic activities of masters, bachelors, and students on the Great Seal, and she was fervently prayed to on the seals of masters for her intercession on their behalf, now and in the hour of their death.

chapter 7

Balancing Inequalit y

The title of this chapter may seem ill-chosen, as inequalities appear frequently in the previous chapters. The majority of members of the university community at Paris were students, while its administration and legislative power was in the hands of the masters who held authority over their students. Medieval colleges were communities with a sharp division between those who prayed, the poor masters and the students, and those for whom they prayed, the founder, the founder’s family, and major donors. With very few exceptions, certainly none at Paris, the opportunities of higher education and the careers it led to were male only; women were not found in the classroom. Those divisions were simply instances of the educational, class, and gender structure of medieval society in which those at the top held power and were served and those toward the bottom did the serving. Life at the top gave the rich a special advantage in the afterlife as well. They, both men and women, could endow educational and religious institutions that would continue as works of charity after death and allow their souls in the afterlife to benefit from the merits earned. They could endow prayers and masses for themselves that would continue in perpetuity, reducing their time in purgatory and keeping their memory alive among the living. Such benefits were only available to the wealthy, the social elite. 131

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The university community was undoubtedly hierarchical, but that was offset by other factors, checks, and balances. Within the university corporation all masters, whether recently promoted or long serving, had the same right to teach and the same rights to vote in the nation and faculty. Moreover, all offices in the faculty of arts were short-term (rectors for a three-month term, proctors for one month, nuntii only for the one mission for which they were appointed or elected), so that individual masters could not build a substantial power base. Deans in the higher faculties held office for a longer period, but they represented their faculty in an official capacity; they did not exercise authority over their colleagues.1 Only the beadles, those who served the masters in the nations and faculties, held office until resignation, retirement, or death. More important, being a student was a temporary, not a permanent, status. Students had the opportunity, indeed the expectation that through study they should become bachelors and masters and in doing so, unlike in modern universities, teach in their discipline in their own university for as long as they wished. If financial support from family, patrons, or benefices was available and sufficient, only the limits of their own talent and commitment kept students from becoming masters themselves. It was the opposite of a closed profession. Differences based on social status and financial resources were harder to overcome. Although some colleges gave preference to candidates from the family or local region of the founder, those chosen as fellows were for the most part persons of modest means. In the case of family members they were those who were set on a church career, often because they were not in the immediate line of inheritance. In colleges with a broader range of eligibility, the social and economic differences between the founder and fellows was probably even greater. But by using modest financial means as one of the criteria of selection for college fellowships and limiting the amount of outside income one could receive and still retain the fellowship were ways of adjusting for financial inequity among students who were otherwise qualified. That economic division was not just one between college founders and college fellows. It presumably existed between students of different social backgrounds. One historian of medieval universities, Rainer Christoph Schwinges, has argued that students from the nobility basically lived in their own world, insulated from others in the academic

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community.2 The average student shared a room with others and lived simply. The noble student could rent an entire house for himself, his tutor, his retinue, his servants, and perhaps other family members. Students of noble parentage, according to Schwinges, often did not pay their enrollment fees, their promotion fees, or their share of special collections or assessments that occurred almost yearly. University officials supposedly looked the other way because of the prestige of having persons of privilege in their midst who might be willing to help them personally and who in subsequent years could be useful for political leverage (influence on behalf of the university) and as a source for future donations. Examples of preferential treatment of students from wealthy or aristocratic families can be found at universities in Germany, eastern Europe, Italy, southern France, and Spain, but Paris seems not to have developed in that direction, at least not in its first two centuries. For example, a substantial collection was authorized by the University of Paris in May 1313 in the amount of a full burse—one of the highest assessments attempted.3 A burse was the amount each student swore he spent each week on everything except lodging, under penalty of perjury. It was the basis for determining the amount paid for instruction as well as for promotion fees when advancing to the level of bachelor or master. It was also the basis for determining the payment every student and master was expected to pay when the university authorized a general financial collection, usually for legal expenses. It was a graduated tax, since the more generous one’s lifestyle, the more one spent in a week, which determined the burse, the larger was the payment to the university’s collection or the fees paid at the time of a degree. In 1313 poor students and masters, especially those from outside northern France, asked for a delay in the required time of payment, normally collected within a week or two after the collection was authorized. Authorized in May near the end of the academic year when the purses of many students were low, it was the poorer students who were most affected, and one might think that only they were concerned. When one studies the document carefully, however, the appeal to the papacy for an extension of the time allowed for payment was initiated and orchestrated by the richest students on behalf of the poorest. The leaders of the appeal were all from the nobility. They drafted the appeal

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itself and conducted the meetings that encouraged the poorer students to sign the petition. These leaders, though wealthy, also had something to gain by a delay in payment, and one might think their own self-interest was a strong motivator. Yet among the earliest signers of the petition were some individuals who had nothing to gain, such as the cantor of Notre-Dame, who was exempt from any such payments because he belonged to the cathedral chapter. His support for the petition can only be construed as motivated by the plight of poor students. A similar picture emerges from the record of the university collection in 1329–30, which was the subject of my Parisian Scholars in the Early Fourteenth Century. Whatever reluctance individuals may have had to pay their share, the wealthy did pay and in amounts that ranged from five to thirty times higher than the burse of the average student. One example among many is that of William, son of the Count of Hainaut, Holland, and Zeeland, and Jeanne de Valois, sister of King Philip VI. While most students paid 2 denarii, or pence, and most masters 1 to 2 solidi, or shillings, William paid 20 solidi. Without the payments of students of wealth, the collection would have produced far less than the university needed. Noble students did not simply add prestige to the university community; they helped balance the budget. Differences in wealth and power between rich and poor were not removed or diminished by such cooperative and, occasionally, altruistic actions on the part of noble students. Social-economic advantage was always on their side. But there were ways in which divisions of wealth were offset, even in ensuring a better place in the afterlife. Not all chaplaincies in churches and colleges connected to the university, or chaplaincies over which the university, a nation, or a college had rights of appointment, were established by and for the wealthy. Occasionally chaplaincies were established for the souls of students who had been murdered, the endowment being created out of the confiscated property of the murderer or the financial resources of those held responsible for the deaths.4 And the differences in rank between masters and students were mitigated to some degree by the regulations regarding funerals and burials of those who died at Paris (see ch. 1). The least among the students, if he died at Paris, received a funeral and burial attended by a large number of masters who participated in the liturgy for the dead and prayed for the repose of the student’s soul.

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The idea that the less fortunate in life should be rewarded in death, or should at least be treated equally with those more privileged based on their degree of merit in life, was at the heart of the debate over the prayers for the dead among Parisian theologians in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries (ch. 2). The attempt to assure the poor that, despite appearances to the contrary and the ability of the rich to provide prayers and masses for themselves in the afterlife, Christ’s promises that the least or last would be first and that the meek and poor would inherit the kingdom of heaven would be fulfilled. The Patristic belief that rewards in the afterlife were based on how one lived, rich or poor, and Prepositinus’s analogy of light, or Bonaventure’s analogy of sound (a reader’s voice), worked to illustrate how the prayers and masses funded by the wealthy benefited the poor as well, even if the wealthy did not realize it. The tension described in chapter 2 between the attempt to assure the wealthy that they received the full value of what they paid for and the attempt to assure the poor that they received equal benefit was certainly there and varied among theologians. But the importance of establishing a balance between those positions, however awkward, was an important contribution to the understanding of purgatory and the afterlife. In light of that picture, it needs to be recognized that the prayers of the fellows of a college in their chapel were not only for the soul of the donor and his family but also for the souls of past members of the college. At such times the college acted as a religious community engaged in prayers for the dead, regardless of social rank or financial resources. The language of the 1215 statutes for the faculties of arts and theology regarding funeral services and burial, discussed in chapter 1, covered masters and students alike, regardless of social status. Any student who died while studying at Paris received burial and a funeral mass, attended by members of the university and the nation, not just his friends. Masters, both those in arts and those in theology (and by extension those in law and medicine), received a higher level of respectful mourning because of their higher academic status, but every student who died in Paris, no matter how poor, received burial, a funeral mass, and prayers for the repose of his soul — death benefits of belonging to a religious confraternal community. Colleges at the University of Paris were, in significant ways, religious as well as educational institutions. While the religious observances

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of the nations in the faculty of arts displayed their piety and Marian devotion, and, through attendance at funerals for masters and students belonging to the nation, benefited the souls of deceased members, the prayers and masses in the chapels of colleges brought immediate, direct spiritual rewards not simply to founders and patrons, but to all members of the college community, past and present. Chapel services transformed an educational community into a religious community in which current fellows participated in actions that linked the living with the dead, scholars in the church militant with scholars in the church triumphant. The University of Paris in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was not simply an educational institution that produced some of the most important intellectual contributions of that period and which trained scholars for positions in church and state as well as other careers. The university was a collection of subgroups, faculties, nations, and colleges, whose daily activities had a large, sometimes dominant religious component. And the major focus of those religious activities and rituals were the liturgies associated with Marian devotion, the remembrance of the university’s dead, and the care of their souls.

notes

Introduction 1. Jacques Le Goff, Pour un autre Moyen Âge: Temps, travail et culture en Occident: 18 essais (Paris: Gallimard, 1977, 1991, 2004). 2. Heinrich Denifle, Entstehung der Universitäten des Mittelalters bis 1400 (Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1885); Hastings Rashdall, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, ed. Frederick M. Powicke and A. B. Emden, 3 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1936); Lynn Thorndike, University Records and Life in the Middle Ages ( New York: Columbia University Press, 1944); Gaines Post, “Alexander III, the Licentia docendi, and the Rise of the Universities,” in Anniversary Essays in Mediaeval History by Students of Charles Homer Haskins (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1929), 255– 77; Gaines Post, “Masters’ Salaries and Student-Fees in the Mediaeval Universities,” Speculum 7 (1932): 181– 98; Gaines Post, “Parisian Masters as a Corporation, 1200 –1246,” Speculum 9 (1934): 421– 45, reprinted in Gaines Post, Studies in Medieval Legal Thought (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1964), 27– 60; Pearl Kibre, The Nations in the Mediaeval Universities (Cambridge, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 1948); Pearl Kibre, Scholarly Privileges in the Middle Ages (Cambridge, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 1962); Pierre Michaud-Quantin, Universitas: Expressions du mouvement communautaire dans le Moyen Âge latin (Paris: J. Vrin, 1970). 3. Jacques Verger, Les universités au Moyen Âge ( Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1973, 1999); Verger, Les universités françaises au Moyen Âge ( Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995); Verger, L’Essor des universités au XII e siècle ( Paris: Cerf, 1997); Johannes Fried, ed., Schulen und Studium im sozialen Wandel des hohen und späten Mittelalters, Vorträge und Forschungen 30 (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1986); Hilde de Ridder-Symons, ed., A History of the University in Europe, vol. 1: Universities in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992); Olaf Pedersen, The First Universities: Studium Generale and the 137

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Origins of University Education in Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997); William J. Courtenay, Parisian Scholars in the Early Fourteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999); Nathalie Gorochov, Naissance de l’université: Les écoles de Paris d’Innocent III à Thomas d’Aquin (v. 1200 –v. 1245) (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2012). 4. The exceptions are Gray C. Boyce and, most recently, Nathalie Gorochov. See Boyce, The English-German Nation in the University of Paris during the Middle Ages (Bruges: Saint Catherine Press, 1927), 149– 64; Gorochov, “Les pratiques religieuses des étudiants parisiens au Moyen Âge: Entre conscience de groupe et discipline imposée,” in Religion et société urbaine au Moyen Âge: Études offertes à Jean-Louis Biget, ed. Patrick Boucheron and Jacques Chiffoleau (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2000), 415– 34; Gorochov, “La mémoire des morts dans l’Université de Paris au xiiie siècle,” in Memoria, Communitas, Civitas: Mémoire et conscience urbaines en Occident à la fin du Moyen Âge, ed. Hanno Brand, Pierre Monnet, and Martial Staub (Ostfildern: Thorbecke, 2003), 117– 29; Gorochov, “Les obituaires, sources de l’histoire des universités médiévales: Les fondations de messes-anniversaires par les universitaires parisiens au xiiie siècle,” Revue d’histoire de l’Église de France 92 (2006): 5– 23; and Gorochov, “La vie religieuse dans l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge,” in Université, église, culture: L’Université catholique au Moyen Âge, ed. Pierre Hurtubise, Actes du colloque de la faculté catholique de Louvain, mai 2005 (Paris: Fédération Internationale des Universités Catholiques, 2007), 377– 426. Some of her observations are repeated and expanded in her Naissance de l’université (Paris: Champion, 2012). 5. Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis (subsequently cited as CUP), ed. Heinrich Denifle and Émile Chatelain, 4 vols. (Paris: Delalain frères, 1889– 94), vol. II, 675: “Primo, vos jurabitis quod in licitis et honestis obedietis rectori et procuratori nacionis ad quemcumque statum deveneritis. . . . Item, quod servabitis statuta et ordinationes facultatis artium et speciaiter nacionis vestre juxta totum posse et nosse vestrum sine dolo.” The oath of the proctor of a nation at the time of his installation in office contained the phrase: “ad honorem et utilitatem Universitatis, facultatis et specialiter vestre nationis”; CUP II, 672. 6. Auctarium Chartularii Universitatis Parisiensis (subsequently cited as ACUP), ed. Heinrich Denifle and Émile Chatelain, vol. I: Liber Procuratorum Nationis Anglicanae ( Paris: Delalain frères, 1894), cols. 484 – 85, when the English nation contributed to the inception feast in theology for Henry de Heinbuch of Langenstein in March 1376. 7. The best introduction to this subject remains Kibre, The Nations. 8. Jacques Verger, “Les saints patrons à l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge,” in Santi patroni e Università in Europa, ed. Patrizia Castelli and Roberto Greci ( Bologna: Cooperativa Libraria Universitaria Editrice, 2009), 1– 9; Patrizia Castelli, “Il patrono della Natio normanna dell’Università di Parigi,” in Castelli and Greci, Santi patroni e Università, 55– 71; Jacques Verger, “Le De Pa-

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tronis IV Nationum Universitatis de César Égasse du Boulay (1662) et la vie religieuse à l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge,” Bulletin de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France (2013): 235– 49. 9. Students had the right to choose the master under whom they studied and were promoted, and if a master from one’s home region was not available or for other reasons, a student could choose to be promoted under any master in the nation and, in exceptional cases, under a master in another nation. In the fourteenth century there were twenty-two cases of students in the EnglishGerman nation who determined, were licensed, or incepted under a master from another nation. Michael de Montecalerio from western Lombardy, a master in the Bourges province of the French nation, served as the promoting master of several students in the English-German nation in the 1340s; see William J. Courtenay, “Michael de Montecalerio: Buridan’s Opponent in his Quaestio de puncto,” Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du Moyen Âge 72 (2005): 323– 31. 10. C. H. Haskins, “The Life of Mediaeval Students as Illustrated by Their Letters,” American Historical Review 3 (1898): 203– 29, reprinted with revisions in C. H. Haskins, Studies in Mediaeval Culture (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1929), 1– 35.

chapter 1. Death in Paris 1. CUP I, 79, no. 20: “Si quis obierit scolarium in artibus vel in theologia, medietas magistrorum artium eat ad sepulturam una vice, et altera medietas alia, et non recedat donec completa fuerit sepultura, nisi rationabilem habuerit causam. Si quis obierit magister in artibus vel in theologia, omnes magistri intersint vigiliis, quilibet legat vel legi faciat psalterium, quilibet moram faciat in ecclesia ubi celebratur vigilia, usque ad mediam noctem vel majorem partem noctis, nisi rationabilis causa obstiterit. Die quo tumulatur magister, nullus legat vel disputet.” Courson’s introduction implies that these statutes were clarifying and reforming previous statutes and agreements: “ut statui Parisiensium scolarium in melius reformando” (CUP I, 78). These articles are among those mentioned and approved by Gregory IX in 1231 in Parens scientiarum (CUP I, 137, no. 79: “constitutiones seu ordinationes providas faciendi de modo et hora legendi et disputandi, de habitu ordinato, de mortuorum exequiis necnon de bachellariis, qui et qua hora et quid legere debeant, ac hospitiorum taxatione”). The existence of earlier statutes, which included one concerning “pio usu in celebrandis exequiis decendentium clericorum,” is referred to in a letter of Innocent III in 1208 (CUP I, 67– 68, no. 8). For discussion of these previous statutes, see Post, “Parisian Masters,” 421– 45; Gorochov, Naissance de l’université, 214 –16, 302. 2. As Stephen Ferruolo remarked in The Origins of the University: The Schools of Paris and Their Critics, 1100 –1215 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University

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Press, 1985), 309: “Significantly, on no matter are the statutes more detailed than in establishing procedures pertaining to the death and burial of a member of the university. . . . Such funerary practices, no less than the making and enforcing of their own decrees, were vitally important to the ability of the masters and scholars of Paris to function and to be recognized as a single corporate body.” It was largely these statutes on funerals that led Gorochov to see some similarities between the university community at Paris and a medieval confraternity; see her “La mémoire des morts,” 117– 29, at 119; “La vie religieuse,” 387. 3. The death rate of young adults from illness in the royal family in the fifteenth century was remarkably high. The majority of Charles VI’s sons and daughters died relatively young, six between the ages of 18 and 42; see Philippe Contamine, Charles VII ( Paris: Perrin, 2017), 490 – 91. There was also a high rate of turnover due to death among grammar teachers in Paris in the same period; see Olivier Guyotjeannin, “Les petites écoles de Paris dans la première moitié du xve siècle,” in Finances pouvoirs et mémoires: Mélanges offerts à Jean Favier, ed. Jean Kerhervé and Albert Rigaudière (Paris: Fayard, 1999), 112– 26. In the crowded conditions of the Latin Quarter in Paris in the previous two centuries the death rate from disease was probably much higher. Although his death occurred in Cologne in 1308, John Duns Scotus died only three years after becoming a master in theology. Accidents were also not uncommon. For an account of a theological student who died while returning to Paris from Nevers, see Lecoy de la Marche, “Le bagage d’un étudiant en 1347,” Mémoires de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France 50 (1889): 162– 82. 4. Both law and medicine were being taught at Paris by 1215, and Courson’s mentioning only arts and theology may have been a result of his having studied at Paris in both those disciplines and thinking of them as the core of the university. 5. On the effect of plague on educational institutions in England, see William J. Courtenay, “The Effect of the Black Death on English Education,” Speculum 55 (1980): 696– 714; reprinted in The Many Sides of History, vol. 1, ed. Steven Ozment and Frank Turner ( New York: Macmillan, 1987), 220 – 35. Nothing comparable regarding the university community has yet been done for Paris. The effect of plague may show very different results depending on the type of document and evidence examined. For example, almost all bachelors reading the Sentences at Paris in 1348– 49, when the plague was raging in Paris, are known to have survived into the 1350s, yet eight out of ten of the university nuntii at Avignon in 1361, which was also hit by plague, died; see ACUP I, col. 266; Rotuli Parisienses: Supplications to the Pope from the University of Paris, ed. William J. Courtenay and Eric D. Goddard, 3 vols. ( Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2002, 2004, 2013), 2:5 (subsequently cited as Rot. Par.). 6. The text is cited in note 1. Ferruolo interpreted this passage differently; see The Origins of the University, 309: “When a student of the arts or of

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theology died, all the masters were to attend the funeral, but in two shifts so that, presumably, classes would not be disrupted.” The alternation in attendance by masters, however, applies to successive funerals, not parts of one funeral. 7. The statutes governing grammar school teachers in Paris in the fourteenth century also required them to attend the funerals of all grammar masters and mistresses. CUP III, 52, no. 1237. 8. Adrien Friedmann, Paris, ses rues, ses paroisses du Moyen Âge à la Revolution: Origine et évolution des circonscriptions paroissiales (Paris: Librairie Plon, 1959). The churches mentioned were Saint-Benoît and Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet on the Left Bank; Saint-Christophe, Saint-Landry, Sainte-Marine, and SaintPierre-aux-Boeufs on the Île; and Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois, Saint-Jean-enGrève, Saint-Merry, and Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs on the Right Bank, along with the priory of Saint-Éloi on the Île and the monasteries of Saint-Magloire on the Right Bank and Notre-Dame-des-Champs outside the walls on the southern edge of Paris. A cemetery attached to the collegiate church of SaintHonoré on the Right Bank is mentioned in the foundation charter of the Collège des Bons-Enfants de Saint-Honoré in 1209 (CUP I, 68– 69, no. 9). 9. The parish church cemeteries are those of Saint-Sulpice, SaintAndré-des-Arts, and Saint-Séverin on the Left Bank and Saint-Gervais and Saint-Paul on the Right Bank. 10. Monasteries and religious convents known to have had cemeteries are Sainte-Geneviève, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Saint-Jacques, and Saint-Victor, along with the Hospital of La Trinité. 11. Gesta Philippi Augusti, in Œuvres de Rigord et de Guillaume le Breton, historiens de Philippe-Auguste, vol. 1: Chroniques de Rigord et de Guillaume le Breton, ed. H.-F. Delaborde ( Paris: Renouard, 1882), 231: “sepultus est juxta monasterium Sancti Martini de Campis.” 12. Friedmann, Paris, 79– 80: “En 1119, une bulle de Calixte II mentionnait parmi les biens du prieuré une chapelle paroissiale dédiée à saint Nicolas et édifiée auprès du monastère. Au xiie siècle, la population du bourg prendra même un tel développement qu’en 1184 Lucius III autorisera le prieur de Saint-Martin à confier la paroisse à un prêtre séculier, et qu’on choisira en 1220 un emplacement plus spacieux pour le cimetière.” Ibid., 80 n. 1: “C’est une ordonnance de Guillaume de Seignelay qui érigea en 1220 le cimetière créé entre la rue qui prit son nom et celle des Gravilliers. Auparavant, les paroissiens étaient inhumés dans le jardin du monastère, qui servait aussi de basse-cour.” Friedmann’s text places the new cemetery between rue du Cimetière Saint-Nicolas (the western half of rue Chapon between rue Saint-Martin and rue Beaubourg) and rue aux Gravilliers to the north, while his late thirteenth-century map as well as the 1380 map created by Jacqueline Leuridan and Jacques-Albert Mallet of the Laboratoire de Cartographie Thématique in Paris place it one block south, between rue du Cimetière and rue au Seigneur de Montmorency, named as such because it led to the Hôtel de Montmorency where the street was called

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ruelle au Villain in 1328, later rue Cour-au-Villain. The present church of Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs was built in the fifteenth century on the place where the parish chapel formerly stood. It is perhaps possible that burials were already being done at the new site before its expansion in 1220. 13. Another medieval cemetery in that same area was recently uncovered just west of Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, namely, the cemetery adjacent to the chapel of the Hospital of the Trinity on rue Saint-Denis. The remains of burials in the fourteenth century, many of them probably plague victims from the hospital, were discovered beneath the basement of Monoprix on the southwest corner of the intersection of Boulevard Sebastopol and rue Reaumur. Details can be found at www.livescience.com/50007-paris-mass-burial-images.html, with images of the burial chambers and the skeletons. Other medieval burial sites around Paris have been uncovered in recent years because of new construction, such as late Roman and early medieval skeletons at Vitry-sur-Seine, southeast of Paris. 14. It is sometimes said that Amaury was a master of theology, but that conclusion seems to be based only on his having taught or discussed theological issues. He is described in Gesta Philippi Augusti, 230, as a master of arts and student in theology: “Fuit igitur in eadem sacra facultate studens quidam clericus, Amalricus nomine, de territorio Carnotensi, villa que Bena dicitur oriundus; qui cum in arte logica peritus esset, et scholas de arte illa et de aliis artibus liberalibus diu rexisset, transtulit se ad sacram paginam excolendam.” The text is also reproduced in G. C. Capelle, Autour du Décret de 1210, vol. 3: Amaury de Bène (Paris: J. Vrin, 1932), 99. It may have been possible at this early date for a licensed master of arts to teach theology without a separate license. As Gorochov has pointed out in Naissance de l’université, 90 – 91, the license to teach at the opening of the thirteenth century, just as in the twelfth, was not specific as to discipline. Once one was licensed, one could lecture and dispute on topics that were philosophical or theological according to the interests of a master and his students. Some form of disciplinary credentialing, however, had long been thought necessary by some, as attested by the objections from former students of Anselm of Laon in the early twelfth century over Abelard’s right to teach theology without sufficient training and the approval of a master. Moreover, a distinction was made by some at Paris in 1202 between a license to teach arts and a license to teach a higher discipline, such as theology or canon law; see Ann Lefebvre-Teillard, “Texts and Parisian Context of the Licentia Docendi at the Beginning of the Thirteenth Century,” in Texts and Contexts in Legal History: Essays in Honor of Charles Donahue, ed. John Witte, Sara McDougall, and Anna di Robilant (Berkeley, CA: Robbins Collection, 2016), 159– 77, at 166– 67. I am grateful to Thierry Kouamé for calling my attention to this evidence. 15. Gesta Philippi Augusti, 231: “Cum igitur in hoc ei ab omnibus catholicis universaliter contradiceretur, de necessitate accessit ad summum pontificem, qui, audita ejus propositione et universitatis scholarium contradictione,

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sententiavit contra ipsum. Redit ergo Parisius, et compellitur ab universitate confiteri ore quod in contrarium predicte opinioni sue sentiret; ore dico, quia corde nunquam dissensit. Tedio ergo et indignatione affectus, ut dicitur, egrotavit, et lecto incumbens decessit in brevi et sepultus est est juxta monasterium Sancti Martini de Campis.” 16. The limitation on the number of theologians teaching at Paris, which may have been in response to a request from certain Parisian theologians, lasted only a decade; see CUP I, 85, no. 27. 17. CUP I, 70, no. 11: “Corpus magistri Amaurici extrahatur a cimeterio et projiciatur in terram non benedictam, et idem excommunicetur per omnes ecclesias totius provincie.” On postmortem excommunication, see Pierre le Chantre, Summa de Sacramentis et animae consiliis, ed. J.-A. Dugauquier, pt. II (Louvain/Lille: Nauwelaerts/Giard, 1957), 345– 46, 469– 70; pt. III, 2a (Louvain/Lille: Nauwelaerts/Giard, 1963), 301. And with regard to Amaury de Bène, see J. M. M. Hans Thijssen, “Master Amalric and the Amalricians: Inquisitorial Procedure and the Suppression of Heresy at the University of Paris,” Speculum 71 (1996): 43– 65, at 49– 52; Gorochov, Naissance de l’université, 184 – 92. 18. Jean Longère, “La fonction pastorale de Saint-Victor à la fin du xiie siècle et au début du xiiie siècle,” in L’Abbaye parisienne de Saint-Victor au Moyen Âge, ed. Jean Longère (Paris: Brepols, 1991), 291– 313; Marshall Crossnoe, “Animarum lucra querentes: The School of St. Victor and the University of Paris in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries” (PhD dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 1996); Marshall Crossnoe, “Education and the Care of Souls: Pope Gregory IX, the Order of St. Victor, and the University of Paris in 1237,” Mediaeval Studies 61 (1999): 137– 72; Gorochov, “La vie religieuse,” 387– 88. 19. For more on the donation of the property to the Dominicans, see William J. Courtenay, “The Donation of St. Jacques at Paris to the Dominicans: Some Observations,” Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 83 (2013): 107– 23. 20. CUP I, 100, no. 43: “Inter que hec duximus amplius declaranda: locum in choro, in refectorio, in capitulo, quod nobis inclinent advenientibus, sepulturam in ecclesia, exequias et memorias per omne tempus sicut uni fratrum, et singulis annis anniversarium diem nostri transitus celebrabunt, et quod in diebus solempnibus possimus et horas in choro, et missam in majori altari, si voluerimus, celebrare, aliis vero diebus, vel unus de fratribus nobis missam celebrabit si poterit, aut nobis assistens vel capitulo nostro in nostra presentia hora competenti celebrare volentibus ministrabit.” Whether he or parts of him were in the end buried at Saint-Jacques is not known. When he died, probably in late 1238, he was treasurer of Salisbury cathedral and presumably in residence there. 21. CUP I, 99–100, no. 42: “Preterea pro quolibet magistro, cujuscumque facultatis fuerit de nostris, qui in officio regendi Parisius decesserit, tantum facient solempniter quantum facerent pro uno de fratribus suis defunctis. . . . Si

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vero ibi elegerit sepulturam, si fuerit theologus, sepelient eum in capitulo suo; si autem alterius facultatis, in claustro.” Philip the Chancellor, master of theology and chancellor at Notre-Dame, chose to be buried in the Franciscan church in 1236. Alexander of Hales was buried in that church in 1245, as no doubt were other Franciscan masters in subsequent years. The Franciscan church, known as Cordeliers, was also chosen by Joan of Navarre, Queen of France, for her place of burial in 1305. 22. CUP I, 99, no. 42: “Insuper singulis annis in crastino festivitatis beati Nicholai missam solempnem in majori altari presente conventu pro vivis magistris et scolaribus necnon et conservatione studii Parisiensis, in crastino vero purificationis beate Mariae virginis cum eadem solempnitate missam pro illis, qui de Universitate nostra Parisius decesserint, celebrabunt.” The calendar of the English nation lists both masses; ACUP I, col. 2, on 3 Feb.: “Missa apud Predicatores pro animabus defunctorum Universitatis,” and col. 11, on 7 Dec.: “Non legitur; in crastino Nicolai fit apud Predicatores missa pro conservatione studii.” 23. Gorochov, “La vie religieuse,” 388– 92. 24. CUP I, 96, no. 38: “ut dilectos filios fratres ordinis Predicatorum habentes in visceribus caritatis eis in capella Sancti Jacobi, quam habent Parisius, celebrare divina et cimiterium permitteretis habere.” 25. From the thirteenth-century cartulary of Saint-Jacques ( Paris, Bibliothèque du Saulchoir, Rés. Ms. B 08, fol. 3ra): “sepulturam ecclesiarum vestrarum liberam esse decernimus ut eorum devotioni et extreme voluntati qui se illic sepeliri deliberaverint nullus obsistat, salva tamen iustitia illarum ecclesiarum a quibus mortuorum corpora assumuntur.” The rubric for the letter in the cartulary (fol. 2vb) reads: “De libertate cimiterii et sepulture.” 26. Ibid., fol. 5rb– va: “Hinc est igitur quod vestris precibus inclinati presentium auctoritate decernimus ut ecclesie vestre omnis in quibus conventus existant conventuales vocentur. Concedentes vobis nichilominus licentiam ut in ipsis ecclesiis ad opus fratrum et familie vestre habere libere cimiteria valeatis.” 27. Catherine Guyon, Les Écoliers du Christ: L’Ordre canonial du Val des Écoliers, 1201–1539 (Saint-Étienne: Université de Saint-Étienne, 1998), 205. 28. Howard Williams, “Remembering and Forgetting the Medieval Dead,” in Archaeologies of Remembrance: Death and Memory in Past Societies, ed. Howard Williams ( New York: Kluwer Academic / Plenum Publishers, 2003), 231– 32: “Those denied prime positions in the sacred space were rapidly incorporated into strategies of forgetting that emphasised the communal dead. Indeed, whether intentional or accidental, the very nature of the use of the church and churchyard for burial meant that few individual graves would retain enduring grave markers to evoke remembrance for decades and centuries. Instead, with each successive interment in and around its walls, the church evolved as a focus for the worship and remembrance of the collective dead. In this sense, social memory was constructed through forgetting as well as remem-

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bering.” On this topic, see also Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars ( New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1992), 332; Christopher Daniell, Death and Burial in Medieval England 1066–1550 ( London: Routledge, 1997); Rosemary Horrox, “Purgatory, Prayer and Plague: 1150 –1380,” in Death in England, ed. Peter C. Jupp and Clare Gittings ( Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1999), 90 –119. On intentional forgetting, see Dyan Elliott, “Violence against the Dead: The Negative Translation and damnatio memoriae in the Middle Ages,” Speculum 92 (2017): 1020 – 55. 29. The exhumation of the bones of Amaury de Bene, referred to above, required that their precise location was known. 30. The sounding of the bells of Saint-Jacques is referred to in relation to activities in a college in the statutes of the Collège de Justice (1358), Paris, AnF, M 137, no. 8b: “in capella diebus dominicis et festivis quibus volumus missam dici alta voce, in diebus solemnibus vesperas et matutinas sicut in domo scholarium de Harcuria est fieri consuetum, qui campanam statim post cliquetum sancti Jacobi pro missa ante ejus inceptionem ter pulsare teneatur.” Similar language is used in the statutes of the Collège de Maître Gervais (1370); Pierre Féret, Faculté de théologie de Paris et ses docteurs les plus célèbres: époque moderne, vol. 3 ( Paris: Picard, 1904), 644: “Item presbyter ebdomadarius unam missam omni die cito post primum pulsum seu cliquetum Sancti Jacobi celebrabit.” The celebration of mass in both these colleges was timed according to the ringing of the bells of Saint-Jacques, and it would appear that colleges that had a bell tower waited until the bells of Saint-Jacques began before ringing their own. Both of these colleges were located farther down the hill, Justice on the rue de la Harpe near Saint-Côme and Maître Gervais near Saint-Séverin. 31. Pope Clement VI’s dispensation in 1346 (CUP II, 548, no. 1088), which allowed the Collège de Cluny to have a bell tower, specifically referred to a papal privilege that limited competing bell towers in the area of SaintJacques. Earlier nearby religious foundations, however, such as the collegiate church of Saint-Étienne-des-Grès, presumably had a bell tower. 32. Guyon, Les Écoliers du Christ, 97– 99, 205. 33. The right of the Dominicans, Franciscans, and community of Valdes-Écoliers to have a cemetery or to accept outsiders for burial in their church or cloister was initially opposed by the bishop of Paris and required papal intervention to be allowed. The case of Val-des-Écoliers is discussed in Gorochov, “La mémoire des morts,” 124. 34. The Cluniac house of study at Paris was authorized in 1260 and 1261 (CUP I, 410 –11, no. 361; 418–19, no. 370), as was the building of a chapel or oratory in 1262 (CUP I, 421– 22, no. 375). Permission to celebrate divine offices and to have a bell tower and a cemetery was granted in 1279 (CUP I, 571, no. 486): “eidem conventui celebrandi alta voce in oratorio ipso, habendi campanas ibidem et cimiterium pro corporibus fratrum ipsius Ordinis cum decedunt sepeliendis decenter licentiam concedere dignaremur.”

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35. CUP II, 3, no. 532: “habendi cimiterium juxta capellam quam habent in domo predicta, et campanas in capella ipsa ad convocandum fratres, licentiam concedere curaremus.” 36. CUP II, 548, no. 1088: “non habentes cimiterium, ubi eorumdem seu aliorum decedencium corpora valeant sepeliri, quinymo apud Sanctum Martinum de Campis per medium ville transitum faciendo solita sint deportari. Unde expensas multas patiuntur et labores, nec non et derisiones laycorum, et sic honeste et devote funus tractari non potest. Unde supplicant quatenus eisdem concedere dignemini et velitis cimiterium et campanile cum campanis ac liberam sepulturam, non obstantibus privilegiis Ordini fratrum Predicatorum seu quibuscumque aliis concessis.” Since permission to have multiple bells was not always granted, it is significant that this was stated in each papal privilege for the monks of Cluny. Apparently, however, the college still did not have its own bells in 1365, since the new statutes of the college in that year imply that the college was dependent on the bells of Saint-Jacques; see Thomas Sullivan, “The Collège de Cluny: Statutes of Abbot Simon de la Brosse (1365),” Revue Bénédictine 98 (1988): 169– 77, at 175. The cemetery may also not have been achieved. Emile Raunié, Épitaphier de vieux Paris, vol. 1 (Paris: Impr. nationale, 1899), 117– 43, described the funeral plaques for monks buried in the chapel of the college. 37. Michel Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5 vols. (Paris: G. Desprez et J. Desessartz, 1725), 5:638. 38. Rot. Par., I, 191: “Item, quod in dicta capella cum campanis erigi valeat campanile et divina officia celebrari.” 39. Rot. Par., I, 191: “Fiat sic, tamen quod in campanili sit solum una campana, non magna.” 40. Palémon Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, vol. 1, Robert de Sorbon (Paris: J. Vrin, 1966), 99, in a formula of 1356: “omnibus ipsis specialiter ad hoc in capella dicte domus ad campane sonitum evocatis.” 41. For Justice, see Paris, AnF, M 137, no. 8b; for Narbonne, see Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5:667. 42. Gorochov noted that only certain fellows of the Sorbonne, namely, the founder, those who had held offices, and those who had made important donations to the library or the endowment of the college, were mentioned in the obituary of the college; see “La mémoire des morts,” 122– 23; “Les obituaires,” 5– 23; “La vie religieuse,” 401– 4. 43. While reducing time and pain in purgatory was more important in medieval society than remembrance, being remembered is more important today because that is all that is left when belief in purgatory and even in an afterlife has disappeared for many in modern secular society. 44. The multiplication of endowed masses reached staggering proportions in the course of the fourteenth century. In his will William Courtenay,

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archbishop of Canterbury, arranged for 15,000 masses to be said for him after his death; see Joseph Henry Dahmus, William Courtenay, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1381–1396 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1966), 229. Bernard d’Escoussans, a French nobleman, topped that by stipulating that 25,000 masses be said for the sake of his soul; see Sophia Menache, Vox Dei: Communication in the Middle Ages ( New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 91. At the end of the next century King Henry VII specified that 10,000 masses were to be said for the sake of his soul immediately after his death; Howard Colvin, Architecture and the After-Life ( New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1991), 172. Norman P. Tanner, The Church in Late Medieval Norwich, 1370 –1532 ( Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1984), 105, noted: “Excluding from consideration bequests to members of their families, testators left more money for Masses and prayers than for any other purpose.”

chapter 2. Allocating Spiritual Rewards 1. On the importance of masses and prayers for the dead in late medieval society, see Christopher Daniell, Death and Burial in Medieval England, 1066–1550 (London: Routledge, 1997), ch. 1, esp. 5– 21. 2. 2 Cor. 5, 10: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body.” 3. Augustine, On the Care for the Dead, 2 (CSEL xli, 623): “Nam meritum per quod ista prosint, si nullum conparatum est in hac vita, frustra post hanc quaeritur vitam.” 4. Augustine, Enchiridion, ch. 110 (CCh., ser. lat., xlvi, 108– 9): “Neque negandum est defunctorum animas pietate suorum viventium relevari, cum pro illis sacrificium mediatoris offertur vel eleemosynae in ecclesia fiunt. Sed eis haec prosunt qui cum viverent haec ut sibi postea possent prodesse meruerunt. . . . Cum ergo sacrificia, sive altaris sive quarumcumque eleemosynarum, pro baptizati defunctis omnibus offeruntur, pro valde bonis gratiarum actiones sunt, pro non valde bonis propitiationes sunt, pro valde malis etiam si nulla sunt adiumenta mortuorum qualescumque vivorum consolationes sunt.” Since the living do not know whether or not a loved one died in a state of grace, they were encouraged to pray and offer masses for them. Prepositinus Cancellarius, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, argued that such pious acts could ease or for a time even suspend the torments suffered by the damned, but that view was rejected by most theologians. See Prepositinus Cancellarius, De Sacramentis et de Novissimis (Summae Theologicae, Pars Quarta), ed. Daniel Edward Pilarczyk, Collectio Urbaniana, ser. 3, Textus ac documenta 7 (Rome: Editiones Urbaniana, 1964), 114 – 21.

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5. Dialogues, bk. 4, ch. 59, ed. Adalbert de Vogüé, Sources chrétiennes 265, 196– 98 (Paris: Cerf, 1980). 6. Cited in Fasciculus Morum: A Fourteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook, ed. and trans. Siegfried Wenzel ( University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989), 413. 7. Ibid., 425: “si insolubiles culpae non fuerint, ad absolutionem prodesse etiam mortuis victima sacrae oblationis possit. Sed sciendum est quia illis sacrae victimae mortuis prosint, qui hic vivendo obtinuerunt ut eos etiam post mortem bona adjuvent, quae hic pro ipsis ab aliis fiunt.” On the changing conceptions of the afterlife and the role of wealth in helping departed souls on their journey to heaven, see Peter Brown, “Through the Eye of a Needle”: Wealth, the Fall of Rome, and the Making of Christianity in the West, 350 – 550 AD (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2012), and especially The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015). 8. The story was passed from prelate to prelate in mid-eleventh-century Italy and no doubt used in sermons. Damian claimed to have heard it from Rainaldo, bishop of Como (1061– 84), who in turn had heard it from Humbert of Silva Candida, cardinal bishop of S. Rufina (1051– 61). Peter Damian, De variis apparitionibus et miraculis ( PL 145, 587– 88: “ecce mulier quaedam, licet paupercula, pelliceo tamen indumento decenter ornata, ad intemeratae Virginis vestigia corruit, eamque ut Joanni patricio jam defuncto misereretur, oravit. Cumque hoc ipsum mulier ter obsecrando repeteret, nec responsum aliquod impetrare posset, adjecit: ‘Nosti, inquit, domina mea, regina mundi; ego sum misera illa, quae in atrio Basilicae tuae majoris nuda. . . . Ille vero mox ut aspexit, pia mihi miseratione condoluit, et pellam hanc super me. . . . ’ Tunc beata Dei Genetrix: ‘homo, inquit, ille, de quo rogas, multa flagitiorum mole depressus est; duo tamen haec habuit, ut et indigentibus pius, et magna sacris locis exstitisset humiliate devotus. Frequenter enim oleum propriis cervicibus deferebat, et lucernis Ecclesiae meae fomitem ministrabat. Cumque super hoc eidem patricio . . . illico regina mundi praecepit, ut patricius ille duceretur ad medium; et ecce multitudo daemonum prefatum Johannem trahunt, poenalibus undique loris astrictum. Tunc eum domina nostra jussit absolvi, et sanctorum coelibus aggregari.” The account is described by Menache, Vox Dei, 91. Three centuries later Conrad of Megenberg would recount his dream in which a soul was released from chains through the recitation of Ave Maria. 9. Barbara H. Rosenwein, “Feudal War and Monastic Peace: Cluniac Liturgy as Ritual Aggression,” Viator 2 (1971): 129– 57, at 134 – 36, 140 – 45. On the role of women in this development, see Patrick J. Geary, Phantoms of Remembrance (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 51– 80. 10. Brown, The Ransom of the Soul, 21. 11. Ibid.

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12. Charles Du Cange, Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis, ed. nova, vol. 6 ( Paris: Firmin Didot, 1846), 666; Mediae latinitatis lexicon minus, ed. J. F. Niermeyer (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1984), 1044. 13. Gregory the Great, Dialogues, IV, c. 57, Sources chrétiennes 265, 188– 94. 14. Joseph A. Jungmann, The Mass of the Roman Rite, vol. 1, trans. Francis A. Brunner (Blackrock, Ireland: Four Courts Press, 1951), 218– 22. In the third quarter of the eleventh century Pope Alexander II limited priests to one mass per day, allowing if necessary a mass for the dead in addition to the main mass of the day; Decretum III: De consecratione, Dist. I, c. 53 (Corpus iuris canonici, ed. A. Friedberg, vol. 1 [ Leipzig: Tauchnitz, 1879], subsequently cited as CIC I, col. 1308): “Sufficit sacerdoti unam in die una celebrare missam, quia Christus semel passus est. . . . Quidam tamen pro defunctis unam faciunt, et alteram de die, si necesse sit.” Peter Comestor, in the second half of the twelfth century, reaffirmed that restriction; see Raymond M. Martin’s edition of Comestor’s De sacramentis, as an appendix to Maitre Simon et son Groupe, ed. H. Weisweiler (Louvain: Spicilegium Sacrum Lovaniense, 1937), 47*– 48*. 15. Jungmann, The Mass of the Roman Rite, 1:216– 24. 16. Hugh of St. Victor, De sacramentis, lib. II, pt. 16, ch. 7 ( PL 176, col. 595): “Sed quia non discernimus qui sint, oportet ea pro regeneratis omnibus satere, ut nullus eorum praetermittatur ad quos haec beneficia possint et debeant pervenire. Melius enim supererunt ista iis quibus nec obsunt nec prosunt, quam eis deerunt quibus prosunt.” 17. There are many examples where the number of burses established when a college was founded were far fewer than what was stated in the will of the founder, such as with Jean Lemoine (see ch. 4), or where the testamentary donation of a large library to a college or university, as in the case of Bishop Thomas Cobham to Oxford, was sold by the executors in order to pay debts; see William J. Courtenay, Schools and Scholars in Fourteenth-Century England (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987), 50, n. 60. 18. The Fasciculus Morum, 411–13, made the distinction that every mass is “for [all] the dead,” but not every mass is “of the dead,” meaning a mass dedicated to an individual soul. 19. As Daniell expressed it in his Death and Burial, 12: “To be forgotten in the pains of Purgatory was a terrible fate, and to be avoided if possible by buying prayers with money or offering gifts to individuals or the church, such as a new chalice or cope. This process inevitably meant that there were a large number of the poor and socially insignificant who, because they could not pay, would be forgotten and so would suffer in Purgatory without any relief. Fortunately the Church devised methods to help these souls. At every Mass general prayers for souls were said and a third of the consecrated host was dedicated to souls in Purgatory. A special day, All Souls Day, was also reserved on 2 November of each

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year, when a Requiem Mass was held for all souls in Purgatory. Whilst it was thought that these general prayers helped many souls, of much greater benefit were the prayers for individuals.” 20. Peter Lombard, Sent. IV, dist. 45, cap. 4, Sententiae in iv libris distinctae, vol. 2: Liber III et IV (Grottaferrata: Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae ad Claras Aquas, 1981), 526: “Potest tamen dici illa plura subsidia contulisse diviti celeriorem absolutionem, non pleniorem.” 21. Augustine dealt with these issues most notably in The City of God, bk. 21; Enchiridion, chs. 109, 110; and On the Care for the Dead. For Gregory the Great, see Dialogues, bk. 4, chs. 57, 58. On anniversary masses at the University of Paris, see Gorochov, “La mémoire des morts,” 119– 21; “La vie religieuse,” 401– 4. 22. Pierre le Chantre, Summa de sacramentis et animae consiliis, pt. II, 183– 89. 23. Ibid., 185: “Tantum valet pro centum animabus decantatio misse, quantum si pro unoquoque fieret per se.” Decretum III: De cons., Dist. V, c. 24 (CIC I, col. 1418): “Cum igitur pro centum animabus psalmus vel missa dicitur, nichil minus, quam si pro uno quolibet ipsorum diceretur, accipitur.” Some theologians, such as Prepositinus, used the wording “pro cunctis animabus,” but the meaning is the same. 24. Pierre le Chantre, Summa de sacramenti, 185: “Illud enim non videtur nobis quod tantum aliis prosit quod quis facit pro se et aliis, quantum illi ipsi qui facit. Nec illud etiam quod tantum valeat alii alterius penitentia pro illo facta, quantum sua propria valeret, nisi illius qui facit pro alio caritas tanta sit et tam superhabundans, ut possit ad multa extinguenda sufficere. Sicut oratio Martini vel Remigii que potuit etiam animam defuncti de inferno ad corpus revocare.” 25. Ibid., 197: “Iheronimus contra: ‘Tantum valet una missa decantata pro centum quantum pro uno eorum.’ Ita quidem nisi nominatim et specialiter pro uno eorum decantetur. Tunc enim magis valet illi quam aliis, vel aliter est in suffragiis, et aliter in suppletione voti vel penitentie.” 26. Jean Gobi, writing early in the second quarter of the fourteenth century, relates a similar story of a son fulfilling a pilgrimage vow for his deceased father. In Gobi’s story the father is freed from purgatory by the son’s action; see Scala coeli de Jean Gobi, ed. Marie-Anne Polo de Beaulieu ( Paris: IRHT, 1991), 337. 27. Pierre le Chantre, Summa de sacramenti, 186: “Ut si intendit quis pro patre suo celebrare, colligit tamen alios in missa. Sed si occasione patris celebrat, alias non celebraturus, credo quia plus prodest patri illa celebratio quam aliis, et illud verbum Iheronimi non habet locum, ubi ex debito quis celebrat vel decantat psalmos pro aliquo et alios ei adiungit, sed cum gratis pro aliquibus celebrat.” Ibid., 413: “Notandum quod missa occasione alicuius decantata magis ei confert quam aliis, quibus tamen communiter et equaliter confert. Sed obicitur: ‘Missa decantata pro centum eque valet’ etc. Ut autem hec auctoritas intelligitur de missa decantata pro centum, occasione omnium eorum sicut et unius,

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non autem de missa communi que generaliter pro omnibus celebratur, et non occasione aliquius. Nota supplecione penitencie vel voti vel suffragiis subtrahi acerbitati vel diuturnitati penarum defuncti.” Ibid., 414: “Item. Quod nomine meo solutum est creditori soluisse intelligor. Videtur ergo quod ex quo quis votum vel penitentiam alterius susceperit peragendam quod ille iam absolutus sit. Non est ita, nisi ille qui suscepit eque soluerit et antequam eam solverit.” 28. Jacques Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 165. 29. Pierre le Chantre, Summa de sacramentis, pt. II, 415: “Respondemus. Quia addit celeriori absolucioni ad purgatorium, sed non addit merito, nisi crescat caritas orationis.” 30. Ibid., 188: “Ei qui habet tricennalem facere, promittunt se facturos pro eo, alii similiter et tertio, postea unum tricennalem pro omnibus faciunt. Nunquid implevit promissionem suam? Non credimus, immo singulis tenetur in singulis.” Ibid., 414: “Sed si quis solverit unam quadragesimam pro tribus, cum illorum trium quilibet unam debebat, nunquid sic liberabuntur? Non. Ergo nec qui unum tricenalem solvit pro tribus, liberatur a promisso communicando unum tricenalem tribus quibus singula promittit. Ergo nec cantans unum psalterium pro tribus quibus singulis unum promittit. Sed nec missam de mortuis celebrat qui diurnali officio Requiem eternam adiungit et inserit. Illa quidem pro mortuis est sicut et omnis, sed non est de mortuis. Intitulatur enim missa a primo introitu. Una ergo sola est de mortuis in qua etiam ne pax detur inhibitum est. Decipit ergo simplices animas qui sic missas inserit.” 31. Prepositinus, De sacramentis, 117–18, at 118: “Quibusdam autem videtur quod speciales orationes que fiunt pro divite prosunt etiam pauperi ad similitudinem candele que pro divite accenditur in domo et illuminat omnes circumstantes, alios minus, alios plus secundum vim acuminis visus eorum. Ita eleemosina oblata pro uno qui est in purgatorio omnibus prodest et forte plus prodest illi pro quo non fit quam illi pro quo fit.” On Prepositinus, see Georges Lacombe, Prepositini Cancellarii Parisiensis (1206–1210), Opera Omnia I: La vie et les oeuvres de Prévostin (Kain: Le Saulchoir, 1927). 32. Prepositinus, De sacramentis, 118: “Immo potest esse quod ei non prosit pro quo fit ut si est valde malus vel valde bonus. Prodest tamen illis pro quibus non fit ut domino ceco vel in summa claritate diei constituto ad cuius honorem in domo obscura accenditur candela, non prodest ei sed prodest aliis.” In the same section Prepositinus argued that suffrages could benefit the damned by temporarily reducing or suspending their torment but that they could not change their fate, a position most scholastic theologians rejected on the grounds that Christians should not pray for the damned. 33. Gorochov, “La mémoire des morts,” 126– 27, gives Guiard of Laon as an example of a master of theology who like many suffered the “second death,” at least within the university community. He died as bishop of Cambrai in 1248 and presumably would have continued to be remembered there. His reputation

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was still alive in Paris when Robert of Sorbonne praised him in a sermon. But after 1270 his works and name were no longer being cited by Parisian theologians. He joined the numerous Parisian masters whose memory was not individually preserved within the academic community. 34. CUP I, 451, no. 409. Gorochov, “La mémoire des morts,” 126, suggested that William of Auxerre’s vigil at Saint-Jacques may have been a postmortem recognition for his role in resolving the crisis of 1229– 31 that resulted in Parens scientiarum. There may have been an even stronger reason for his vigil, at least among the Dominicans. It is likely that William, one of the most prominent regent masters in the faculty of theology in the 1220s, was one of the three doctors of theology who sealed the document of donation to the Dominicans by the university in 1221; see Courtenay, “The Donation of St. Jacques”; William J. Courtenay, “Magisterial Authority, Philosophical Identity, and the Growth of Marian Devotion: The Seals of Parisian Masters, 1190 –1308,” Speculum 91 (2016): 63–114, at 87– 90. 35. The question of where one was buried, and whether interment in a church near the relics of a saint was more advantageous, was the central question of Augustine’s De cura mortuorum. 36. The dean provided for his relatives as well as for the Dominicans, perhaps in the hope that in the future they would add their prayers and donations for the repose of his soul. Some portions of the Saint-Jacques property remained in the hands of his family into the next generation. See the discussion in Courtenay, “The Donation of Saint-Jacques,” 116– 23. 37. Although not addressed in the excellent study by Joel Kaye, A History of Balance, 1250 –1375: The Emergence of a New Model of Equilibrium and Its Impact on Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), the discussion of value and equity with regard to prayers and masses for the dead provides another example where those issues were raised already in the pre-1250 period. On the impact of a money economy on religious doctrine and practice, see Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory; and Jacques Le Goff, Your Money or Your Life: Economy and Religion in the Middle Ages, trans. Patricia Ranum ( New York: Zone Books, 1988). The issues of equity and justice when it comes to the afterlife were based on two different goals: to remain faithful to the Gospel and reassure the poor that they benefited as much if not more than the rich; and to reassure the rich that they got what they paid for. 38. Guido de Orchellis, Tractatus de sacramentis ex eius summa de sacramentis et officiis ecclesiae, ed. Damien and Odulphus Van den Eynde (St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Institute, 1953), 258– 61; William of Auxerre, Summa aurea, IV, tract. 18, c. 4, q. 1, a, 3, ed. Jean Ribaillier ( Paris and Grottaferrata: Centre national de la Recherche Scientifique and Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae ad Claras Aquas, 1985), 542– 46. Orchellis, 258, made a variation on Prepositinus’s analogy of the candle lit for the rich man. In his version there are two individuals, one rich and the other poor and both in prison (in carcere),

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presumably a dark dungeon. The candle is lit for the rich prisoner, but it provides equal light for his poor cellmate. 39. Bonaventure, Commentaria in quatuor libros sententiarum, IV, dist. 45, art. 2, q. 3, in Opera omnia, vol. 4 (Quaracchi: Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae ad Claras Aquas, 1889), 946: “Dicendum, quod aliquorum opinio fuit, ut Praepositivi [sic], quod suffragia Ecclesiae, sive specialiter sive generaliter facta, magis prosint ei qui magis meruit. Et ponunt exemplum: sicut si candela accenditur coram divite, non tantum praebet sibi lumen, sed etiam aliis, et eis qui melius vident, maius lumen praebet.” 40. Ibid.: “Exemplum etiam patet in lectione, quae tantum valet, si legatur omnibus in communi, quantum si cuilibet in speciali, et plus valet assistenti, qui melius intelligit, etiam si pro alio legatur, qui minus intelligit, etsi pro ipso legatur specialiter. Si ergo ita est in lumine, quanto magis in Sacramento. Si ita est in lectione, quomodo non in oratione.” 41. Ibid., 947: “Amplius, suffragia sunt ad solvendum poenam sive reatum; sed plus est satisfacere pro debito multorum quam unius, et facilius satisfit pro debito unius quam plurium; ergo pluribus indigent suffragiis duo quam unus solus; ergo si dividuntur inter eos, uterque habet minus; ergo non videtur, quod aequaliter se extendant ad omnes.” 42. Ibid.: “Quamvis enim duo creditores aequaliter possint et simul videre unum aureum, non tamen potest aequaliter solvi duobus.” 43. Thomas Aquinas, In quatuor libros sententiarum, dist. 45, q. 2, art. 4, in Opera Omnia, ed. Roberto Busa, vol. 1 (Stuttgart– Bad Cannstatt: FrommannHolzboog, 1980), 657: “Respondeo dicendum ad primam quaestionem, quod circa hoc fuit duplex opinio, quidam enim, ut Praepositinus, dixerunt, quod suffragia pro uno aliquo facta, non magis prosunt ei pro quo fiunt, sed eis qui sunt magis digni; et ponebat exemplum de candela quae accenditur pro aliquo divite, quae non minus aliis prodest qui cum eo sunt quam ipsi diviti, et forte magis, si habeant oculos clariores; et etiam de lectione, quae non magis prodest ei pro quo legitur quam aliis qui simul cum eo audiunt, sed forte aliis magis qui sunt sensu capaciores. Et si eis objiceretur, quod secundum hoc ecclesiae ordinatio esset vana, quae specialiter pro aliquibus orationes instituit, dicebant, quod hoc ecclesia fecit ad excitandas devotiones fidelium, qui promptiores sunt ad facienda specialia suffragia quam communia, et ferventius etiam pro suis propinquis orant quam pro extraneis.” 44. Ibid.: “Alii e contrario dixerunt, quod suffragia magis valent pro quo fiunt. Utraque autem opinio secundum aliquid veritatem habet. . . . Alio modo suffragia valent ex hoc quod per intentionem unius alteri applicantur; et sic satisfactio unius alteri computatur; et hoc modo non est dubium quod magis valent ei pro quo fiunt, immo sic ei soli valent. Satisfactio enim proprie ad poenae dimissionem ordinatur; unde quantum ad dimissionem poenae praecipue valet suffragium ei pro quo fit; et secundum hoc secunda opinio plus habet de veritate quam prima.”

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45. Thomas Aquinas, Quodlibetales II, q. 7, art. 2, in Opera Omnia, ed. R. Busa, vol. 3 (Stuttgart – Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1980), 447: “Utrum duorum qui eadem poena sunt digni, unus diutius moretur in purgatorio quam alius,” listed in some manuscripts as question 14 in the form of “Utrum aequali poena puniendi in purgatorio, unus citius possit liberari quam alius.” 46. Ibid.: “Circa quod aliqui dixerunt, quod non magis valent illi quam aliis; immo forte magis valent aliis, si sint melius dispositi ad recipiendum suffragiorum virtutem: et ponunt exemplum, sicut si accendatur cereus in domo pro aliquo divite qui sit caecus, illuminat omnes in domo existentes, et forte alios magis illuminat, si habeant limpidiorem visum. Et secundum hanc opinionem, duorum qui ob aequales culpas in purgatorio detinentur, unus non potest citius liberari quam alter.” Thomas seems to have combined the two versions of the example and ignored the fact that the rich blind man, in Prepositinus’s second version, was among the truly bad and therefore damned. 47. Ibid.: “Sed hanc opinionem non reputo veram, cuius ratio est, quia suffragium unius valet alteri propter duo. Uno modo propter unitatem caritatis, quia omnes qui sunt in caritate, sunt quasi unum corpus, et ita bonum unius redundat in omnes, sicut manus deservit toti corpori, et similiter quodlibet corporis membrum. Et secundum hoc, quodcumque bonum factum ab aliquo, valet cuilibet in cartate existenti. . . . Alio modo secundum quod per intentionem alicuius actus eius transfertur in alterum, puta si aliquis pro altero solvat aliquod debitum, pro eodem habetur ac si ille solveret pro quo solvitur.” 48. Ibid.: “Primo ergo modo valet opus bonum per modum meriti, cuius radix est caritas; sed secundo modo opus unius valet alteri per modum satisfactionis, prout unus pro altero satisfacere potest, si hoc intendat. . . . Et ideo dicendum est, quod suffragia per istum modum non valent nisi illis pro quibus fiunt: et secundum hoc, si pro aliquo fiunt multa suffragia, citius liberatur a poena purgatorii quam alii pro quibus non fiunt, etiam si aequalia peccata detulerint.” 49. Innocentius V (Peter of Tarantasia), In IV Librum Sententiarum Commentaria, vol. IV, dist. 45, q. 2, a. 3 ( Toulouse: Arnaldus Colomerius, 1651; repr. Ridgewood, NJ: Gregg Press, 1964), 436: “Per suffragia solvitur debitum poenae; sed solutio debiti unius non prodest aliis; ergo nec suffragium factum pro uno prodest aliis. . . . Suffragia facta pro vivis magis prosunt illis pro quibus fiunt quam aliis; ergo similiter facta pro defunctis.” 50. Ibid.: “Si suffragia facta pro aliquo non magis prosunt ei pro quo fiunt; ergo frustra in Ecclesia suffragia specialia fiunt.” 51. Ibid.: “Dixit enim Praepositinus quod suffragia pro uno specialiter facta aequaliter prosunt aliis aequalium meritorum, ad liberationem sive utilitatem, sed non aequaliter ad honorem. Sicut candela in mensa accensa pro divite aequaliter facit ad sociorum mensae utilitatem, sed magis ad divitis honorem.” 52. Ibid.: “Concordando vero utramque opinionem dici potest, quod suffragium dupliciter prodest, vel confortando virtutem sustinentis, vel minuendo

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gravitatem ponderis, sicut relevatur homo oneratus aut potu vini laetificantis, aut alleviatione oneris. Primo modo prodest quasi per modum congratulationis, inquantum gaudent de bonis quae fiunt per vivos, et in tantum illa prosunt et vivis et defunctis eorum sociis. . . . Et haec utilitas dividitur secundum virtutem charitatis, unde maior est in habentibus maiorem charitatem. Altero modo per modum satisfactionis vel solutionis poenae debitae. Et haec utilitas communicatur secundum intentionem solventis, ut ad eos pro quibus fiunt suffragia specialiter derivetur. Sic ergo illi qui sunt aequalis meriti aequaliter gaudent de bonis operibus quae fiunt per viventes, sed non aeque per ea liberantur.” 53. Ibid., 437: “Secundum opinionem Praepositini aequaliter prosunt singulis, ac si pro singulis per se fierent. Secundum alios non aequaliter, sed magis prodesset cuilibet missa una, si pro eo specialiter fieret, quam prosit multis, quando communiter fiunt; alias enim contingeret secundum alios, quod tanta esset virtus unius missae, quanta centum missarum.” 54. Ibid.: “Effectus alius est per modum satisfactionis, sic non aequaliter prosunt.” 55. Gerard of Abbeville, Quodlibet 18, q. 12: “Si sacerdos promisit se celebraturum diversis personis pro diversis animabus usque ad mensem vel annum singulis diebus, utrum sufficiat quod cotidie celebrat unam missam pro omnibus.” I am grateful to Stephen Metzger, who is editing the Quodlibets of Abbeville, for providing this text. A similar question was disputed by another master in theology at Paris at the same time, Gervais du Mont Saint-Éloi, Quodlibet I, q. 65: “Utrum sacerdos qui obligatus est ad dicendum missam pro defunctis aliqua die, si obliget se ad dicendum missam pro alio eodem die, utrum in solvendo unam missam sit liberatus ab utraque.” On Gervais, see Palémon Glorieux, La littérature quodlibétique de 1260 à 1320, vol. 1 (Kain: Le Saulchoir, 1925), 133– 39. 56. Decretum II, C.13, q. 2, c. 21– 22 (CIC I, col. 728). 57. Gerard of Abbeville, Quodlibet 18, q. 12: “Si enim seorsum promisit missam unam celebrare pro isto, et ex inde speret vel recipiat emolumentum et similiter, seorsum pro alio debet solvere promissionem, tam in misericordia quam in iustitia. In misericordia ut devote cantet pro mortuo fideli misericorditer condescendendo petitioni fidelium suffragia postulantium; in iustitia, ne defraudet animas defunctorum pro quibus diversa seorsum recepit beneficia.” 58. Ibid.: “Si tamen expresse non distinxit, dic quod una missa sufficit ad solutionem promissionis, quia non est orandum pro mortuis singulari oratione sed generali ex amore caritatis.” 59. Ibid.: “Quantum ad efficaciam sacramenti, una missa cotidie celebranda pro omnibus sufficit, quia tanta est virtus illius sacramenti ut eque liberet vel liberare valeat ille, quem Deus proposuit propitiatorem in sanguine suo unum vel plures, quia eque est Deo facile liberare paucos vel multos.”

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60. The expression ultra condignum occurs frequently in Gabriel Biel’s Canonis Misse Expositio to say that no one fully deserves the reward of eternal life, since human merit is incommensurate with the gift of heaven, being in the presence of God forever. 61. CIC I, col. 1418: “Cum igitur pro centum animabus psalmus vel missa dicitur, nichil minus, quam si pro uno quolibet ipsorum diceretur, accipitur.” 62. Councils & Synods with Other Documents Relating to the English Church, ed. Frederick M. Powicke and Christopher R. Cheney, vol. 2, pt. 2 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964), 895– 96: “Nec credat celebrans se dicendo missam unam posse satisfacere pro duobus, pro quorum utroque promisit specialiter et in solidum celebrare. . . . Absit enim ne a quoquam catholico credatur tantum intensive proficere missam unam devote celebratam mille hominibus pro quibus forsan dicitur quantum si pro eis mille misse devotione consimili canerentur. Licet enim ipsum sacrificium, quod est Christus, sit infinite virtutis, non tamen in sacramento vel sacrificio in sue immensitatis summa plenitudine operatur, alioquin pro uno mortuo nunquam oporteret missam dicere nisi unam. . . . Illos qutem qui pro annualibus seu anniversariis celebrandis stipendia receperunt, nec ex certa malitia vel accidia satisfecerunt ut tenentur, monemus ut omissa suppleant et ad plenum satisfaciant in futurum.” 63. Richard of Mediavilla, Scriptum super quarto Sententiarum, dist. 45, art. 3, q. 3 (Brescia, 1591; repr. Frankfurt: Minerva, 1963), 598– 99. 64. Ibid., 599: “quod non valent, quia lumen candele et vox doctoris se communicat per nature necessitatem, sed suffragia communicantur per suffragantis intentionem.” 65. Godfrey of Fontaines, Quodl. V, q. 17, in Les Quodlibet cinq, six, et sept, ed. M. De Wulf and J. Hoffmans, Les Philosophes Belges 3 (Louvain: Institut supérieur de philosophie de l’Université, 1914), 86– 88: “Utrum tantum valeat una missa pro pluribus quantum valet cuilibet una sola.” 66. Ibid., 86: “aliquis sacerdos obligat se ad dicendum missam pro pluribus qui hoc petunt singulatim et a quibus singulis occasione missae dicendae certam pecuniam recepit, utrum tantum valeat una missa pro omnibus quantum valeret cuilibet una sola; aut saltem utrum per unam solam potest satisfacere.” 67. Ibid.: “Respondeo dicendum quod si missa dicta pro uno specialiter tantum valet omnibus existentibus in purgatorio sicut illi pro quo dicitur, quaestio locum non haberet. Supponendo ergo ad praesens, quod non videtur, quod cum una missa quantum est de se multis tantum valet sicut uni soli, tum propter virtutem sacrificii infiniti quod in illa offertur, tum propter indivisionem huiusmodi boni quod est in missa quod non secundum diversas portiones a diversis participatur.” 68. Ibid., 87: “Unde cum diversi singulatim petunt ab uno sacerdote quod dicat missam pro singulis et credit quilibet se habiturum missam propriam, videtur quod sacerdos ad hoc quod petunt non deberet se obligare intendens dicere tantum unam missam pro omnibus nisi hoc omnibus explicaret; quia non

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debet supponere quod tantum debeat affici ad plures sicut ad unum; et si hoc non facit, videtur esse voluntas eius cupida et irrationalis.” 69. Ibid.: “utpote cum parochiani vel canonici plures alicuius ecclesiae qui potius debent procurare sua anniversaria fieri in sua ecclesia sic successive, procurant fieri huiusmodi sua anniversaria quod oportet plura simul concurrere, quam si diversi suas anniversaria fieri procurarent in extraneis ecclesiis. Et quia hoc fit rationabili et recta intentione secundum ordinationem ecclesiae, credo quod tantum vel forte plus valet talis una missa dicta pro pluribus quam si singulae pro singulis.” 70. Ibid., 87– 88: “Sic ergo videtur dicendum, ut dictum est de canonicis pluribus quorum anniversaria oportet fieri simul una die nec possunt habere nisi unam missam, de sacerdotibus curatis respectu suorum parochianorum, scilicet quod tantum valet una missa pro pluribus sicut singulae pro singulis aliter celebratae. Sed non sic videtur rationabile de sacerdotibus quibus non sunt sic astricti illi pro quibus celebrari oportet nec etiam ecclesiae illi in qua missa est celebranda, ut dictum est; et similiter non sic est de religiosis respectu hominum extraneorum.” 71. Duns Scotus, Quodl., q. 20; Herveus, Quodl. X, q. 13; Durandus, Sent. IV, dist. 45, q. 3; Petrus de Palude, Sent. IV, dist. 45, q. 2; Biel, Canonis misse expositio, lectio 27 (ed. Heiko A. Oberman and William J. Courtenay, vol. 1 [ Wiesbaden: Steiner Verlag, 1963], 262– 73), following Scotus and Gerson on this question. 72. John Duns Scotus, Opera Omnia, vol. 26: Quaestiones Quodlibetales, qq. 14 – 21 ( Paris: Vivès, 1895), 298– 331. At the beginning he describes the opposing positions on the virtus missae, that the mass has a greater value if it is said for one person than if it is said for more than one, and the view that the benefit of the mass is infinite because the sacrifice reenacted is infinite; ibid., 298: “Una etiam missa pro isto est majus bonum sibi, si dicatur pro illo, quam si dicatur simul pro illo et alio. . . . [ B]onum missae est ex virtute sacrificii; sacrificium autem est infinitum, et infinitis sufficiens. Christus enim qui offertur in illo sacrificio sufficiens fuit quanto offerebatur in Cruce ad satisfaciendum pro peccatis.” 73. Ibid., 298: “probabile videtur, quod missa non solum valet virtute meriti, sive operis operantis, sed etiam virtute sacrificii, et operis operati.” 74. Ibid., 302: “merito aequali tam secundum intensionem, quam secundum extensionem debetur bonum aequale utroque modo; nunc autem quando quis simul pro duobus orat, licet sit meritum aequale secundum intensionem, sicut quando orat pro uno, tamen est majus secundum extensionem, quia pluribus applicatur, et ideo debetur bonum aeque intensive, sed majus extensive, quia utrique. . . . [S]ed licet meritum ad plures extendatur, et per consequens praemium pluribus debeatur, non tamen oportet quod intensive minuatur, licet pluribus communicetur. Hoc declaratur primo sic: Bonum spirituale proportionatur spiritui, et spiritus est ubique totus, et non per partes communicatur; ergo bonum

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spirituale communicatur sine divisione, et ita non diminuitur, licet pluribus communicetur.” 75. Ibid., 303: “Patet de lumine candelae simul illuminantis plura illuminabilia, et aequaliter, sicut illuminaret quodlibet istorum per se. Patet etiam in voce, quae aequaliter simul immutat auditum quemcumque multorum audientium, sicut immutaret unum illorum solum.” 76. Ibid., 305: “Dices quod per modum satisfactionis non tantum valet pro pluribus, sicut pro uno, quia poena debita non relaxatur, nisi aliquid aequaivalens solvatur. Contra tunc aliquis posset impetrare primam gratiam peccatoribus quotcumque, sicut uni, qwuia hic non requititur poenae solutio, sed Dei placatio et impetratio oni ab ipso. . . . [S]ed sufficit, quod ante recollegerit istos, pro quibus intendit specialiter orare, et intentionem suam talem Deo obtulerit. Ex tunc enim, si tantum in communi eorum memoriam habeat, hoc sufficit, quia Deus oblationem et devotionem suam pro illis acceptat, pro quibus ordinavit prius se velle offerre; et in isto casu verum est quod propter multitudinem attentio actualis ad singulos minuitur, quia non est ad eos, nisi in communi, sed devotionem, quae est motus mentis in Deum, non oportet minui.” Ibid., 307– 8: “Ita dico quod bonum spirituale communicatur sine divisione quantativa, secundum extensionem tamen communicatur cum distinctione, scilicet aliud alteri, et ita requirit distinctum meritum, propter quod reddatur, et hoc dico aequale intensive. Contra, saltem bonum spirituale non communicatur per partes; ergo si virtute huius missae debetur bonum utrique, tanquam unum totale praemium, illud non reddetur per partes, sic, scilicet quod pars dabitur uni, et pars alteri. Confirmatur, quia qui per spiritum recipit, totum spiritum recipit; ergo similiter qui aliquod bonum spirituale recipit, recipit ipsum totum.” 77. Ibid., 309–10: “Lux enim et sonus, et similia, quantum est de se, multiplicant se sphaerice; passum ergo proportionatum tali agenti quantumcumque sit parvum, cum tamen sit sphaericum, includit partes, et illae, quae sunt partes ejusdem sphaerae circumstantis lumen, aeque illuminabuntur, hoc est, tantum illuminabitur medium secundum unum diametrum ejusdem sphaerae circa candelam, sicut secundum alium. Sed si accipiatur alia sphaera remotior a candela, ambiens primam sphaeram acceptam circa candelam, illa non aeque illuminabitur sicut prima.”

chapter 3. Candles for Our Lady 1. For examples of promotion under a master external to the nation, see the introduction, note 9. 2. Boyce, The English-German Nation; Madeleine Toulouse, La nation anglaise-allemande de l’Université de Paris des origines à la fin du XVe siècle ( Paris: Sirey, 1939); Mineo Tanaka, La nation anglo-allemande de l’Université de Paris à la fin du Moyen Âge (Paris: Klincksieck, 1990).

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3. Attendance at vespers on Friday and mass on Saturday for the English nation and presumably for the other nations as well is mentioned as early as 1252 as an obligation of masters (CUP I, 230, no. 202). It was a partial obligation for bachelors at the time of determination (CUP I, 229, no. 201): “Item preter predictum intersint qualibet die veneris ad vesperas Beate Virginis et ad missam die sabati sequente, postquam licentiati fuerint, usque ad ramos palmarum, sub pena qua obligantur magistri.” On feasting and banqueting, see Boyce, The EnglishGerman Nation, 168, 176– 77; Kibre, The Nations, 79, 84 – 85. 4. On the importance of lighting and candles in religious services, see Catherine Vincent, Fiat Lux: Lumière et luminaires dans la vie religieuse du XIII e siècle au début du XVI e siècle (Paris: Cerf, 2004), esp. 47–185. 5. ACUP I, introd., xxiv. 6. Du Cange, Glossarium Mediae et Infimae Latinitatis, 4:159; Niermeyer, Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon, 622. In addition to candles, oil was probably supplied for the lamp that burned continually near an altar in honor of Mary. 7. Boyce, The English-German Nation, 177. 8. The expression “nostra Domina” is used in four entries across the first two hundred columns of the register, while “pro luminari beate Marie” or “luminaribus beate Marie,” “beate Virginis,” and “beate Marie Virginis” are used in twenty-one entries. The cathedral could be referred to as “Beata Maria Parisiensis,” as in Rot. Par., II, 225: “Mag. Alberto [de Ricmestorp] . . . examinatori licenciandorum in artibus in examine vestro beate Marie Parisien.,” but “nostra Domina” was far more common. 9. ACUP I, col. 119: “magister Johannes de Syberg electus fuit in receptorem ad ordinandum luminaria Nostre Domine, et extorquendum a receptore nacionis per juramentum suum.” “Item computacione sic facta remansit nacio obligata Nostre Domine pro luminaribus Nostre Domine XXVII solidis, XIX valente scuto.” 10. The information is found in Herbert Edward Salter, “An Oxford Hall in 1424,” in Essays in History Presented to Reginald Lane Poole, ed. Henry William Carless Davis (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1927), 421– 35, at 422; the interpretation of that information is mine. 11. ACUP I, col. 15: “in octo festis principalibus, quinque scilicet beate Marie, festo sancti Nicholai, sancte Katerine et sancti Edmundi regis.” The five Marian feasts, as listed in the calendar of the English nation, were Purification, 2 Feb.; Annunciation, 25 Mar.; Assumption, 15 Aug.; Nativity of Mary, 8 Sept.; and Conception, 8 Dec. The feast of Visitation, 2 July, was added in 1389 by Urban VI, but because the University of Paris supported the Avignon line during most of the Schism, it was not celebrated there until the 1420s (Boyce, The EnglishGerman Nation, 150). The patron saints of the other nations were St. Thomas of Canterbury and later St. Guillaume de Bourges for the French nation, St. Romain for the Norman nation, and St. Nicholas for the Picard nation, although masters and students from the Amiens diocese also honored St. Firmin, those

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from the diocese of Tournai honored St. Piat, and St. Eloi, bishop of Noyon, was honored by those from that region. On patron saints at the University of Paris, see César Égasse Du Boulay, De Patronis IV nationum universitatis (Paris: Claudius Thiboust, 1662); Kibre, The Nations, 87–88; Verger, “Les saints patrons à l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge,” 1– 9; Castelli, “Il patrono della Natio normanna,” 55– 71; Verger, “Le De Patronis IV Nationum Universitatis de César Égasse du Boulay,” 235– 49. 12. CUP I, 230, no. 202: “Intererit festo sancti Edimundi regis, et festo sancti Nicholai, et festo beate Katerine, et beati Thome, et vesperis beate Marie qualibet die veneris, et misse ejusdem qualibet die sabbati in sua nascione, nisi legitimum habuerit impedimentum, quod notificabit procuratori seu provisori.” 13. Ibid.: “Dabit aliquid in presentia nascionis in sustentamentum luminarium beate Virginis.” 14. ACUP I, col. 43, on Oct. 29, 1340: “Item eodem die electus fuit in receptorem pecunie nacionis mag. Ulricus de Augusta. Item [electus fuit] in receptorem luminaris Beate Virginis mag. Suno de Swecia.” Ibid., col. 118–19, in June 1348: “Item determinavit . . . et remisit sibi nacio totum, preter 3 bursas, scilicet bursam debitam bidellis, aliam luminaribus Nostre Domine, et terciam nunciis de curia Romana. . . . Item magister Johannes de Syberg electus fuit in receptorem ad ordinandum luminaria Nostre Domine.” 15. ACUP I, col. 137, in June 1349: “Tamen, quia nacio multum pauper de pecunia, nullam habens pecuniam nisi pecuniam pro luminari Beate Marie, scilicet 28 solidos parisien. cum tribus denariis, refudit dictam pecuniam dicto receptori recessuro. . . . Set nacio obligatur de prima pecunia quam habuerit Beate Virgini pro suo luminari in 28 solidis parisien. et 3 denariis parisien.” Ibid., col. 138: “ad audiendum compotum receptoris luminarium Beate Marie Virginis, computavit dictus receptor . . . et computatis computandis nacio tenebatur sibi in 30 solidis parisien., quam quidem pecunie summam nacio sibi promisit solvere quando posset.” 16. ACUP I, col. 18, on 24 Aug. 1337: “Utrum placeret per modum expedientis quod quedam pecunia, qua tenebatur mag. Chunradus nacioni daretur ex parte nacionis, ut appellacio magistri Conrardi de Monte Puellarum propter privationem suam mitteretur ad curiam, quo quidem pecunia erat deputata pro luminaribus Beate Virginis, et infra v dies vel sex excogitaretur via acquirendi et habendi pecuniam aliam, que poneretur loco pecunia concesse seu tradite pro littera appellacionis predicte ad curiam Romanam et solverentur luminaria Beate Virginis.” 17. Gorochov has also noted what she called a “confraternalization” of the university. See her “La vie religieuse,” 387, 389– 90. But it is the nation rather than the university as a whole that most resembles a confraternity. 18. The church had been put to other uses after the Revolution and was demolished in 1836 to create rue Racine. Fragments of the capitals came into

Notes to Pages 44 – 46

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the possession of the Musée de Cluny and the École des Beaux-Arts. See Henri Dauchez, L’Église Saint-Côme de Paris (1255–1836) et l’Amphithéatre d’anatomie de Saint-Cosme (1691) (Paris: A. Picard et fils, 1904), 15–16. 19. Kibre, The Nations, 87. 20. John Baldwin, Paris, 1200 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010), 26– 27. 21. Two of these were among the five collegiate churches, the so-called cardinal churches, that formed a line running south from the Petit-Pont along the Grande Rue in the direction of Orléans: Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre and SaintSéverin near the Seine, Saint-Baque or Saint-Benoît located at what is now the lower or northern end of the Sorbonne, Saint-Étienne-des-Grès near the top of the hill, and the priory of Notre-Dame-des-Champs farther to the south. On the reorganization of parishes in this area as a result of the wall, see Friedmann, Paris, 233– 38. 22. Dauchez, L’Église Saint-Côme, 3– 4, reported the opinion that the church was not completed until 1255, but M. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, vol. 1 (Paris, 1725), 256, followed by Friedmann, Paris, 238, maintain that both Saint-Côme and Saint-André were built within two years after the agreement of 1211. William of Auvergne’s letter of May 1230, as bishop of Paris, implies that the church of Saint-Côme had all the structures normal for a parish church, since the nearby property that the abbey of Saint-Germain was providing for the founding of the Franciscan convent was initially forbidden to have a bell tower, a cemetery, or anything more than a portable altar in order not to encroach on the rights of Saint-Côme (CUP I, 134 – 35, no. 76). 23. Friedmann, Paris, 238– 43. 24. ACUP I, col. 13–15. 25. In 1335 the rectorship of Saint-Côme was held by Clement Cordati of Le Puy, master of arts in the French nation, student in theology and fellow of the Sorbonne by 1326 (Benoît XII, Lettres communes, ed. J.-M. Vidal [ Paris, 1902– 6], no. 944; Rot. Par. I, 80; Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 1:298). He was appointed to that position sometime after 1330, since in the computus of 1329– 30 both he and the curate of Saint-Côme are listed separately as making payments (Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 138, 222, 242). In 1349 the rectorship was held by Girard of Saint-Dizier, a former master of arts in the French nation and currently regent master and dean of the faculty of medicine located near Saint-Côme (Rot. Par., I, 293; Ernest Wickersheimer, Dictionnaire biographique des médecins en France au Moyen Âge [Paris: A. Maloine, 1936; repr. Geneva: Droz, 1979], 185). In neither case is the level of holy orders (subdeacon, deacon, or priest) indicated in documents in which they are cited. 26. CUP II, 566– 68, no. 1109; Dauchez, L’Église Saint-Côme, 6– 7. 27. ACUP I, col. 267; Rot. Par., II, 225. 28. Rot. Par., II, 308, 419; Rot. Par., II, 421n; Rot. Par., III, 234.

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29. Rot. Par., III, 78, 154, 624. 30. In 1343 the curate was Guillelmus Boreti de Massangiaco [Marsangy, Yonne] from the diocese of Sens, MA in the French nation by 1331, and a fellow of the Sorbonne and biblical cursor in theology in 1343 (Rot. Par., I, 57, 193). In 1388 the curate was Petrus de Lupimonte, regent master in decrees and a former member of the French nation (Rot. Par., III, 120n). 31. Boyce, The English-German Nation, 179– 80; Kibre, The Nations, 86– 87. On the religious life of the nations, see Boyce, 149– 80; Kibre, 87– 89. 32. ACUP I, col. 43, 51, 105– 6, 194 – 95, 205; CUP II, 527, no. 1061; CUP III, 586, no. 1644. Denifle, ACUP I, introd., xv; and Boyce, The English-German Nation, 179– 80, understood that the chest with three locks in which the receptor was to place the money of the nation was kept at Saint-Mathurin, where the Picard nation kept their chest (CUP II, 324, no. 890; CUP III, 310 –11, no. 1470). Although the meeting where the three-lock chest was authorized took place at Saint-Mathurin (ACUP I, col. 43), as did the meeting where it is mentioned that the seal of the nation and other things were kept in it (ACUP I, col. 51), the location of the chest was not mentioned. The English nation did keep a chest at Saint-Mathurin in which books and other pawned items were held (ACUP I, col. 205, 400), but whether it was identical with the three-lock chest is uncertain. It is likely that the money of the nation was kept in a small chest with one key in the possession of the receptor, which was placed inside the three-lock chest; CUP II, 527, no. 1061, in June 1342: “quicunque esset [procurator nationis] unam trium clavium archae nationis haberet et custodiret; secundam vero receptor pecuniae nationis, unacum clave parvae cistae; tertiam quidam magister actu regens a natione electus, a praedictis duobus diversus.” The seal and counterseal of the Picard nation were kept in a separate chest, which was placed inside the main chest of that nation, as is clear from the inventory of the contents of the chest of that nation in 1382; CUP III, 310, no. 1470: “Item sigillum magnum nationis Picardie argenteum cum contrasigneto et catena argentea, positum in parva arca.” For what it is worth, both the French and Picard nations kept their liturgical vestments and objects used in their religious services in the same chest as their seal, counterseal, registers, and documents. 33. ACUP I, col. 15–16, on 8 March 1333: “Videlicet quod . . . in quolibet istorum octo festorum [see above, note 12] distribuantur duodecem solidi parisien. dictis duodecem magistris sic, quod quilibet magister pro vesperis habebit quatuor denarios et pro missa octo denarios. . . . Statuerunt . . . quod determinantes vel licentiari . . . qui defecerit in vesperis vel completorio, solvet quatuor denarios, pro missa sex denarios, quos si non solverit cum fuerit requisitus per bedellum ex parte nacionis, solvet pro contumacia sua unam libram cere pro luminari Beate Virginis.” 34. For the contents of the chest of the French nation, see CUP II, 489– 92, no. 1028; for that of the Picard nation see CUP III, 310 –11, no. 1470. The list of

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precious or jeweled items in the possession of the English nation in 1369 were also liturgical; ACUP I, col. 339. On making a new chest for the French nation in 1384 and keeping it at the Collège de Navarre, see CUP III, 318, no. 1484. 35. On the increased religiosity of the University of Paris in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, see Gorochov, “La vie religieuse,” 389– 90, 407– 9; and “Les pratiques religieuses.” 36. For further information, see William J. Courtenay, “Une correction au Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis: Le legs de Jean de Thélus et la chapellenie de l’université à Saint-André-des-Arts,” Paris et Île-de-France. Mémoires 52 (2001): 7–18. 37. ACUP I, col. 373, in 1370: “Item in vigilia Eadmundi post vesperas nationis facta congregatione nationis in ecclesia Sanctorum Cosme et Damiani . . . proposui an expediret pro die beati Edmundi, scilicet in missa, adducere aliquos bonos cantores propter majorem solempnitatem festi sub remuneratione nationis, cum in vesperis propter defectum cantorum confusio non modica facta fuerat, et nationis vel cantantium seu ululantium derisio; quod omnibus videbatur expedire.” 38. Just as university-wide processions were used to display solemnity and status of the group as well as hierarchical distinctions among the faculties and officers, so processions of the nations were led by the current proctor accompanied by the senior beadle, followed by the masters, then bachelors, and finally students who might be attending. On the significance of university processions, see Jacques Verger, “Les universités françaises au XVe siècle: Crise et tentatives de réforme,” in Les universités françaises au Moyen Âge ( Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995), 228– 55. 39. CUP I, 531, 532; Kibre, The Nations, 87– 89. The prohibitions on excessive reveling and other inappropriate behavior were repeated in stronger language by the papal legate, Simon de Brie, in 1276; CUP I, 540 – 41, no. 470. 40. These statutes as well as those that prohibit students from wearing colorful or fashionable clothing parallel sumptuary laws for society in general that were instituted in Italy, France, and England in the late Middle Ages. 41. CUP III, 659, art. 24; Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:448, art. 19.

chapter 4. Gaudy Night 1. Dorothy Sayers, Gaudy Night ( New York: Harcourt Brace, 1936). 2. Cambridge colleges have a similar tradition, but their term for it is “annual gathering.” 3. Some Cambridge colleges also hold a Commemoration Feast each year to remember benefactors of the college, to which past fellows and some scholarship students (the current recipients of those benefactions) are invited.

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4. Academic halls are better documented for Oxford than for Paris. See A. B. Emden, An Oxford Hall in Medieval Times; being the early history of St. Edmund Hall (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1927; repr. 1968); Salter, “An Oxford Hall in 1424”; Herbert Edward Salter, Medieval Oxford, Oxford Historical Society 100 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1936), 102– 5; William A. Pantin, “The Halls and Schools of Medieval Oxford: An Attempt at Reconstruction,” in Oxford Studies Presented to Daniel Callus, Oxford Historical Society, n.s., 16 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964), 31–100; A. B. Emden, “Oxford Academical Halls in the Later Middle Ages,” in Medieval Learning and Literature: Essays Presented to Richard William Hunt, ed. Jonathan J. G. Alexander and Margaret T. Gibson (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976), 353– 65; J. R. L. Highfield, “The Early Colleges,” in The History of the University of Oxford, vol. 1: The Early Oxford Schools, ed. Jeremy I. Catto (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), 225– 63; Rainer Christoph Schwinges, “Student Education, Student Life,” in Ridder-Symoens, A History of the University in Europe, vol. 1: Universities in the Middle Ages, 213– 22. 5. For example, Balliol and Exeter Colleges at Oxford, although they began as endowed institutions, were originally called Balliol Hall and Stapledon Hall, as was King’s Hall, Cambridge, later absorbed into Trinity College. St. Edmund Hall at Oxford, dating to the early thirteenth century, survived as a hall and was not designated a college until 1957. 6. The move to in-college lectures and sleeping rooms with fewer students or fellows, perhaps even a private room, was gradual and began to affect most colleges only in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 7. Schwinges, “Student Education, Student Life,” 220. 8. Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 218– 46. Most of the rental properties listed in the taxationes domorum, or rent assessments, from the late thirteenth century housed multiple students, but only the property owner, the location, and sometimes additional features or amenities were mentioned, not the number of individuals who would split the rent. The lists are edited in CUP I, 597– 98, no. 511 (1282); CUP I, 598– 600, no. 511 (1283); CUP II, 28– 29, no. 556 (1286); and CUP II, 30, no. 556 (1287). On the practice, see Charles Jourdain, La taxe des logements dans l’Université de Paris (Paris: Société de l’histoire de Paris, 1878); repr. in Charles Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques à travers le Moyen Âge (Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1888), 249– 63. 9. Balliol accepted a few undergraduates in the thirteenth century, but the majority of fellows were more advanced. 10. On colleges in medieval universities, especially at Paris, see Rashdall, The Universities of Europe, 1:497– 539; Astrik L. Gabriel, “The College System in the Fourteenth-Century Universities,” in The Forward Movement of the Fourteenth Century, ed. Francis L. Utley (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1961), 79–124; Astrik L. Gabriel, “Motivation of the Founders of Mediaeval Colleges,” in Beiträge zum Berufsbewusstsein des mittelalterlichen Menschen, Mis-

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cellanea Mediaevalia 3, ed. Paul Wilpert ( Berlin: De Gruyter, 1964), 61– 72, repr. in Gabriel, Garlandia: Studies in the History of the Mediaeval University ( Notre Dame, IN, and Frankfurt: Medieval Institute and Josef Knecht, 1969), 211– 23. Former students of Jacques Verger have greatly expanded our knowledge of Parisian colleges, using a prosopographical approach; see, e.g., Nathalie Gorochov, Le collège de Navarre de sa fondation (1305) au début du XVe siècle (1418) ( Paris: Honoré Champion, 1997); Cécile Fabris, Étudier et vivre à Paris au Moyen Âge: Le collège de Laon (XIV e–XV e siècles) ( Paris: École des Chartes, 2005); Thierry Kouamé, Le collège de Dormans-Beauvais à la fin du Moyen Âge ( Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2005). For Oxford and Cambridge, see Highfield, “The Early Colleges,” 225– 63; Alan B. Cobban, “The Medieval Cambridge Colleges: A Quantitative Study of Higher Degrees to c. 1500,” History of Education 9 (1980): 1–12. 11. It could be awkward for college fellows to suspend the burse of one of their own simply because his financial condition improved, the extent of which they might not know. But from time to time the provisor and overseers of a college engaged in such housecleaning, as the history of the Collège de Navarre shows (Gorochov, Le collège de Navarre, 199– 220). 12. College statutes that mention an annual income limit average around 20 pounds (Cholets, Cambrai, and Cornouaille), while Bourgogne and SaintNicolas-du-Louvre set the limit at 10 pounds; at the high end the Collège de Bayeux set it at 40 pounds, the Collège de Boncour at 50 pounds, and the Collège de Narbonne at 50 aureos. 13. Astrik L. Gabriel, Student Life in Ave Maria College, Mediaeval Paris: History and Chartulary of the College ( Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1955). 14. In 1307 the fellows of the Sorbonne ordained that there should be an anniversary mass for all those who had left something to the house or the society; Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 1:207, no. 11. 15. In 1307 the fellows of the Sorbonne mandated that the Saturday mass in honor of the Virgin should always be a sung mass at which the introit “Salve sancta Parens” should be chanted; Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 1:208, no. 12. 16. Paris, Arch. nat., MM 406, fols. 6r–11v. The manuscript, including the folios with miniatures, can be accessed at www.culture.gouv.fr/public/mistral /caran_fr?ACTION=NOUVEAU&USRNAME=nobody&USRP=4%24% 2534P, typing “Hubant” in the first line. Black-and-white images can be found in Gabriel, Student Life in Ave Maria College, between 156 and 157. 17. The same emphasis on the number, sizes, and weights of candles occurs in the requirements for the chantry of the Black Prince at Canterbury in 1392; see C. E. Woodruff, “The Sacrist Rolls of Christ Church Canterbury,” Archaeologia Cantiana 48 (1936): 47– 48.

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18. Gabriel, Student Life in Ave Maria College, 323: “Nec ultra festum beati Johannis Baptiste [24 June], immediate sequens decimum sextum annum etatis sue complectum, remanebunt, nec morabuntur in dicta domo qua etate consueverunt communiter inclinare ad malum . . . ut virgines beatissime Virgini velle deservire et servire, eisdem pueris pro titulo salutacionem angelicam assignando.” 19. While most of the children selected as bursars at Ave Maria probably came from families of modest means and were fully supported by their stipend, some of them came from families with higher social status and financial resources. All were expected to have some resources from which to help support the poor. They themselves might be considered poor in that they were not yet adults. All of them were being trained to have concern for the poor and to serve their needs. A modern parallel, without the religious component, might be the Schule Schloss Salem in Baden-Württemberg near the Bodensee, where the students, most of them from wealthy families, develop a social conscience by engaging in community service outside the school. 20. David Sanderlin, The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun at the University of Paris ( Notre Dame, IN: Medieval Institute, 1971), 39 (art. 3): “sacerdos ac scolares omnes dicte domus bis anno quolibet perpetuis futuris temporibus, videlicet in die obitus mei . . . et in die similiter post sex menses continuos, a die dicti obitus mei computandos, anniversarium meum solemniter celebrare et facere teneantur.” As to the name of the college, Autun was the last bishopric held by Pierre Bertrand before becoming a cardinal, and thus his nickname at Avignon was Cardinal Autun (Cardinal Aeduensis). In that sense the college did bear his name. 21. Pierre Féret, Faculté de théologie de Paris, vol. 3 ( Paris: Picard, 1896), 644: “Item, bis in anno celebrabitur cum nota missa pro defunctis fundatoribus et benefactoribus collegii supradicti, videlicet in crastino Conceptionis beate Marie Virginis et in crastino Purificationis eiusdem. Et in omnibus istis tenebuntur personaliter interese tam theologi et medici quam artiste a prima oratione usque ad finem misse.” 22. Paris, Archives nationales de France, subsequently cited as AnF, M 137, nr. 8b (art. 33): “Item ordinamus quod bis in anno obitus fundatoris in dicta capella solemniter celebretur, scilicet in vigilia sanctorum Simonis et Judae et secunda die Mercurii ante medium quadragesimae.” The fellows were paid to be there and fined if not present. 23. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5:640 (art. 12): “anniversarium dictae dominae reginae ter anno quolibet perpetuis futuris temporibus facere teneantur in capella praedictae, videlicet die obitus ipsius dominae reginae, qui fuit die 21 mensis Januarii, et die Lunae post Dominicam qui cantatur Quasimodo, ac die Veneris post festum sancti Remigii successive sequentium.” 24. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:442: “diebus Dominicis pro suo principali fundatore praefacto, videlicet defuncto domino Petro de Becoud cae-

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terisque benefactoribus suis in praefata capella dictae domus habeant et dicant vigilias alta voce pro defunctis.” 25. César Égasse Du Boulay, Historia Universitatis Parisiensis, vol. 4 (Paris: F. Noel–P. de Breche, 1668), 350: “remedio et salute funderent perpetuo Deo preces . . . pro testatore et magistro Stephano praedictis, parentibusque et benefactoribus suis, unam missam die qualibet perpetuo in capella Domus ipsorum scholarium celebrarent vel celebrari facerent.” 26. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5:616: “in ecclesia sancti Severini, et ibi faciant anniversarium nostrum tali die qua transibimus de hac vita. Et vellemus quo saltem semel in hebdomada unam missam dicerent in simul, si commode possent.” Ibid., 617: “Et volo quod dicti scholares veniant simul quolibet anno perpetuo, et faciant anniversarium meum et benefactorum meorum in ecclesia sancti Severini Parisiensis, quali die qua moriar; et in omnibus beneficiis suis me associent expresse, quando recipientur.” 27. Paris, AnF, M 137, no. 8b (art. 31): “Item statuimus quod Principalis scholarium cum scholaribus in domo praesentibus in die anniversarii fundatoris in Ecclesia Parisiensi in vigiliis et in missa veniant et sedeant in cathedris inferioribus.” 28. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:490. 29. Féret, Faculté de théologie de Paris, 3:613 (art. 1 of 1366 statutes): “semel in anno quolibet, perpetuis futuris temporibus, decima nona die mensis Julii anniversarium facere et celebrare tenebutur pro animabus domini Godefridi et magistri Stephani, dictorum fundatorum suorum in ecclesia sancti Andreae de arcubus.” 30. The second founding of the Breton Collège de Cornouaille in 1380, when the executors of the estate of Master John de Guistry used his house to move the scholars from their original accommodation in the Collège du Plessis into Guistry’s residence, is another example ( Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:495). The original founder, Galeranus Nicolai, was buried in the church of the Guillemites (Hermits of Saint Guillaume de Malavalle) in 1318, one of the many religious and charitable foundations in Paris to which he had given annual revenue in return for anniversary masses and a distribution of alms on the date of his death. 31. The location of the property was near the center of theological studies at Paris, close to Saint-Jacques and not far from the Sorbonne, appropriate for a college composed of masters of arts studying theology. This was probably simply a fortunate coincidence, since the acquisition of the property was based on personal connections. 32. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 4:301– 2: “domus, quae fuerat bonae memoriae Gualteri de Chambliaco, episcopi Silvanectensis primo, et postmodum quondam Johannis de Bullis, archidiaconi majoris Caleti in ecclesia Rothomagensi, ab eis de bonis dicti cardinalis rationabiliter acquisita, pro

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ipsius cardinalis et dicti etiam archidiaconi qui partem dictae domus eis ad hoc legavit intuitu pietatis, remedio peccatorum.” Ibid.: “sita Parisius juxta ecclesiam sancti Stephani de Gressibus Parisiensis, cujus introitus est ab oppositis capellae sancti Simphoriani, ad hoc partim a nobis empta et partim ab eodem archidiacono in suo testamento legata et deputata, ordinamus pro domini nostri cardinalis et archidiaconi praedictorum animarum salute instituere sexdecim scholares de Belvacensi et Ambianensi duntaxat civitatibus et diœcesibus oriundos, qui inceperint in artibus sub natione Picardorum.” At the time, Jean de Bully was mostly a resident in Rouen, where he possessed a canonical house, and had bought the house in Paris around 1291 from the estate of Gautier de Chambly, bishop of Senlis. Bully was known to the executors because he was also a fellow canon in the cathedral chapter at Beauvais. He may have been in poor health at the time of the transaction and decided to liquidate a portion of his property holdings to a charitable cause for the benefit of his soul. He apparently died in 1297. For biographical information on Jean de Bullis, see Vincent Tabbagh, Fasti Ecclesiae Gallicanae, vol. 2: Diocèse de Rouen ( Turnhout: Brepols, 1998), 238. 33. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 4:301. 34. Ibid., 5:616 (in 1309): “domum nostram magnam in qua nunc manemus Parisiis, prout protenditur de uno vico in alium, et aliam parvam in qua jam manere incoeperam. . . . Item, legamus eis octo lectos furnitos de iis quos habemus Parisiis, nisi tantum haberent de nostris quando decedemus.” Ibid., 617 (from his final will, shortly before his death in 1312): “et domum meum parvam quae est Parisiis juxta meam domum magnam praedictam in qua nunc habitant [scolares].” 35. Ibid., 5:617: “Ordinamus etiam ut in ingressu suo promittant orare pro anima nostra et bonae memoriae domini Gervasii de Quinocampo, quondam cardinalis, de cuius bonis aliquid habuimus ad hunc usum per manum magistri Guillelmi de Fossa, executoris sui, et pro animabus parentum et benefactorum nostrorum.” 36. Ibid., 5:616 (from his first will): “Item legamus eisdem unum par vestimentorum pro missa ad altare, quae sunt Parisiis, quando celebrare vel celebrari facere voluerint in communi.” Ibid., 618 (from his final will): “Volo tamen quod habeant unum par ornamentorum nostrorum simplicium, pertinentium ad altare et ad missam, que sunt Parisiis, si velint facere missam in domo ipsa celebrabunt saltem semel in hebdomanda.” 37. Ibid., 3:325: “Guido de Lauduno canonicus Laudunensis ac thesaurarius capellae nostrae Parisiensis, et magister Radulphus de Praelis clericus noster.” On the foundation of the colleges of Laon and Presles, see Fabris, Étudier et vivre à Paris, 30 – 46. 38. Sometimes the occupation of a house in a canonical enclosure was mandated for dignitaries of cathedral and collegiate chapters, as was the case for the chancellor of Notre-Dame. But there is also evidence that not all chancellors at Paris observed that requirement.

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39. Guy de Laon died sometime between May 1329 and May 1330. 40. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:373: “domum nostram quam diu inhabitavimus, amortizatam, sitam Parisius in vico sancti Jacobi.” 41. Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 4 – 5, 219. 42. Gabriel, Student Life in Ave Maria College. The location of Hubant’s residence is recorded in the financial collection of 1329– 30; see Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 229, 175– 76. 43. Sanderlin, The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun, 31– 32: “tam pro mee proprie quam parentum et benefactorum meorum animarum remedio, ac etiam ad profectum et subsidium scolarium pauperum Parisius . . . domum meam sive manerium meum in dicta civitate Parisiensi in terra, dominio, et censiva pittantiarie dicti monasterii Sancti Germani, sitam seu situatum ab opposito ecclesie seu ante ecclesiam Sancti Andree de arcubus Parisiensem . . . capellam quoque solemnem, quam in honorem Dei et gloriose Virginis Marie omniumque sanctorum sub vocabulo ejusdem beatissime Virginis, Matris Dei, in dicta domo ad opus collegii infrascripti construi et ordinari feci pro divinis ibi perpetuo celebrandis officiis.” 44. His nephew, Cardinal Pierre Bertrand de Colombier, also died at Montault, in 1361, but at some point his body was transferred and interred at Colombier near Annonay, where he was born. 45. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:431– 35, at 432: “capellanum et scholares per nos seu nostri . . . collegialiter habitantes et in posterum habitaturos domum defuncti . . . dom. Guillelmi de Auxona . . . quam domum de suo patrimonio, dum viverit, obtinebat, sitam Parisius ante sanctum Johannem hospitalis Hierosolymitani . . . ipsamque domum defuncti domini Guillelmi de Auxona ad usum fundationis scholarium per eum deputatam, pro tunc nondum admortizatum, sed pro magna parte ruinosam, et multis et sumptuosis reparationibus et refectionibus indigentem . . . tradidit idem magister Henricus de Salinis.” 46. Ibid., 440 – 45, at 442. 47. Du Boulay, Historia Universitatis Parisiensis, 4:350: “remedio et salute funderent perpetuo Deo preces . . . pro testatore [Godfrey] et M. Stephano praedictis, parentibusque et benefactoribus suis, unam missam die qualibet perpetuo in capella domus ipsorum scholarium celebrarent vel celebrari facerent.” 48. Ibid.: “unam missam die qualibet in domo dictorum scholarium per dictum capellanum (qui continuo teneatur residere scholariter Parisius) . . . perpetuo celebrandam secundum ordinationes, conditiones, dispositiones, et modos contentos in quadam littera propria manu dicti M. Stephani.” 49. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:506: “certum collegium duodecim scholarium in grammatica positiva et regulari ac philosophia, necnon in sacrorum canonum scientia [Decrees], in domo seu hospitio suo sito Parisius in vico Cytharae, coram ecclesia beatorum Cosmae et Damiani.” Ibid., 3:507: “fecimus, ordinavimus, creavimus, fundavimus et dotavimus unum collegium perpetuum in dicto hospitio nostro moraturum, duodecim scholarium.”

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50. Ibid., 3:509: “usumque suum [Cramette] in coquina majori domus, cellario et cava ad vina nostra et sua.” Cramette continued to be active in university affairs. In 1389 he witnessed the document of revocation by the Dominican Peter de Chanceyo (CUP III, 530, no. 1578). 51. Ibid., 3:508: “ordinamus quod dicti magister et procurator actu presbyteri capiantur, teneanturque die qualibet in capella seu oratorio domus nostrae praedictae ad minus unam missam celebrare, ob remedium et salutem animarum nostrarum, et aliorum praedictorum, ita quod unus ipsorum vices alterius, quantum ad missas celebrandas, supplere valeat et etiam supportare.” Ibid., 3:510: The twelve fellows in the college “sint in simul congregati in capella dictae domus nostrae, in qua tunc unam antiphonam cum versiculo et oratione de beata Virgine devote cantare tenebuntur; qua cantata, dicant De profundis, cum oratione Fidelium pro suis fundatoribus.” 52. Wishing to be buried among a community that one had helped endow was frequent in the medieval period, especially in the later years. Galeranus Nicolai, who founded the Collège de Cornouaille at Paris, also gave funds to many other foundations and religious groups in the city and chose to be buried at one of them, the convent of the order of St. William; Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:492: “ita quod erogentur pauperibus ibi eleemosynae in die sui obitus, et fiant exequiae suae et luminare suum.” Note the mention of “his light,” meaning a lamp or candles, and the candles on the tomb or bier at the bottom of fig. 7 when the Ave Maria students are attending an anniversary mass for the college founder, John of Hubant. It is possible that Stephen Vidé, who lived until his death in the Collège de Boissy that he had founded, was buried in the chapel. 53. Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 1:66; and on the chapel, 1:109–10. The first chapel was replaced in 1322 by a larger one directly on rue de la Sorbonne, which was demolished in the seventeenth century when the present chapel was built as part of the restoration of the Sorbonne by Cardinal de Richelieu, who was buried there; see Christian Hottin, Les Sorbonne: Figures de l’architecture universitaire à Paris ( Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2015), 39– 44. Public access to the fourteenth-century chapel was important to the college, which received from Pope Clement VI, a former provisor of the college, the right to grant indulgences to benefactors and visitors who attended services on the five Marian feasts as well as the feasts of St. Nicholas and St. Catherine; see Rot. Par., I, 191. 54. Félibien, Histoire de la ville de Paris, 5:607–10, 612–15; Charles Jourdain, Le Collège du Cardinal Lemoine ( Paris: Imprimerie Gouverneur, Nogentle-Rotrou: G. Daupeley, 1876), esp. 8–16; repr. in Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques, 265– 308. 55. Jourdain, Le Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, 13–14. 56. Ibid., 15–16. The brass cover on the tomb has the image of the cardinal along with his cardinal’s hat and crest, and the inscription reads: “HIC

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IACET DOMINUS JOHANNES MONACHUS AMBIANENSIS DIOCESIS TITULI SANCTORUM MARCELLI ET PETRI PRESBITER CARDINALIS FUNDATOR ISTIUS DOMUS QUI OBIIT AVENIONE ANNO DOMINI MILLESIMO TRECENTESIMO XIII DIE VICESIMO SECUNDO AUGUSTI, SEPULTUS FUIT HIC PRIMA DIE MENSIS OCTOBRIS ANNO DOMINI M CCC XIV. REQUIESCAT IN PACE.” For the image, see gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b6907654n. 57. Daniell, Death and Burial, 14 –15; Jacques Verger, Les gens de savoir dans l’Europe de la fin du Moyen Âge ( Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1997), 55. 58. Kouamé, Le collège de Dormans-Beauvais, 111–12. 59. The liturgical life of the college was also important to public authorities. As Kouamé noted in Le collège de Dormans-Beauvais, 360 – 61, Henry VI, age 8 and no doubt acting on the advice of others, gave to the Collège de DormansBeauvais in 1430 a letter of grace in recognition of the importance of the services in its chapel to the government of the realm. Henry continued his support of education and the liturgical importance of college life in his foundation of All Souls College at Oxford (1438), Eton (1440), and King’s College at Cambridge (1441). 60. William J. Courtenay, “The Collège de Montaigu before Standonck,” History of Universities 22.2 (2007), special issue The Collège de Montaigu: Aspects of Its Institutional, Intellectual, and Spiritual History, ed. Paul Bakker and Hans Thijssen, 54 – 75. 61. A similar provision appears in the statutes of Collège de l’Ave Maria; see Gabriel, Student Life in Ave Maria College, 223. 62. The budgetary priority of the college chapel and its services in times of financial crisis was frequent among Parisian colleges in the fifteenth century. Kouamé, Le collège Dormans-Beauvais, 359– 61, gives as examples the reduction in burses at the Collège de Laon in 1409 and Dormans-Beauvais in 1440 – 45. As Kouamé expressed it, “La chapelle est donc parvenue à intégrer le noyau de base du collège, la structure minimale sans laquelle la fondation n’existerait pas” (360). 63. George Makdisi, “Muslim Institutions of Learning in EleventhCentury Baghdad,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 24 (1961): 1– 56; Dominique Sourdel, “Réflexions sur la diffusion de la madrasa en orient du XIe au XIIIe siècle,” Revue des études islamique 44 (1976): 165– 84; Heinz Halm, “Die Anfänge der madrasa,” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft, suppl. 3.1, 19 (1977): 438– 48; Heinz Halm, The Fatimids and Their Traditions of Learning (London: I. B. Tauris, 1997, 2001). 64. George Makdisi, “Law and Traditionalism in the Institutions of Learning of Medieval Islam,” in Theology and Law in Islam, ed. G. E. von Grunebaum ( Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971), 75– 88; George Makdisi, “Madrasa O

O

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and University in the Middle Ages,” Studia Islamica 32 (1970): 255– 64; George Makdisi, “The Madrasa as a Charitable Trust and the University as a Corporation in the Middle Ages,” in Actes du Ve Congrès International d’Arabisants et d’Islamisants, Brussels 1970, published in Correspondance d’Orient 11 (1971): 329– 37. 65. Makdisi, “Madrasa and University in the Middle Ages,” 258. 66. George Makdisi, “The Scholastic Method in Medieval Education: An Inquiry into Its Origins in Law and Theology,” Speculum 49 (1974): 640 – 61. 67. On Islamic educational institutions in Sicily, see W. Granara, “Islamic Education and the Transmission of Knowledge in Muslim Sicily,” in Law and Education in Medieval Islam: Studies in Memory of Professor George Makdisi, ed. Joseph E. Lowry, Devin J. Stewart, and Shawkat M. Toorawa (Chippenham, U.K.: E. J. W. Gibb Memorial Trust, 2004), 150 – 73. 68. As argued above, student hostels or halls in the medieval West were very different institutions from colleges, and the latter did not develop out of them but coexisted with them. Whether that is also true for the relationship of the Muslim kahn and madrasa is a question worth exploring. 69. George Makdisi, “Interaction between Islam and the West,” in L’Enseignement en Islam et en Occident au Moyen Âge, ed. George Makdisi, Dominique Sourdel, and Janine Sourdel-Thomine ( Paris: P. Geuthner, 1978), 287– 309; George Makdisi, “On the Origin and Development of the College in Islam and the West,” in Islam and the Medieval West, ed. Khalil I. Semaan (Albany: State Universities of New York Press, 1980), 26 – 49, repr. in Studies in Arab History: The Antonius Lectures, 1978–87, ed. Derek Hopwood ( London: St. Martin’s Press, 1990); George Makdisi, The Rise of Colleges: Institutions of Learning in Islam and the West (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1981). See also the following works by Makdisi: “The College in Medieval Islam,” in Logos Islamikos: Studia Islamica in Honorem Georgii Michaelis Wickens, ed. Roger Savory and Dionisius Agius ( Toronto: Pontifical Institute for Medieval Studies, 1984), 241– 57; “Scholasticism and Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 109 (1989): 175– 82; The Rise of Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West, with Special Reference to Scholasticism ( Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1990); “Baghdad, Bologna, and Scholasticism,” Centres of Learning: Learning and Location in Pre-Modern Europe and the Near East, ed. H. J. W. Drijvers and Alasdair A. MacDonald ( Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995), 141– 57. 70. The madrasa Salahiya in Jerusalem is attested at the beginning of the thirteenth century but may not yet have been established by the 1170s; see Makdisi, The Rise of Colleges, 93– 95, 167. 71. Michael Chamberlain, Knowledge and Social Practice in Medieval Damascus, 1190 – 1350 (Cambridge: Cambridge Universit y Press, 1994), 69– 90, esp. 72– 75. 72. Ibid., 91. 73. Ibid., 55– 56.

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74. The names of officers and fellows who participated in the actions of the college can be seen in the documents edited in Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne. 75. The family oversight of the Collège d’Autun is set forth in article 4 of the 1341 statutes, although article 5 states that the master, chaplain, and procurators of the college were to be elected by the fellows; Sanderlin, The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun, 40 – 41, 54, 72– 74.

chapter 5. A Hidden Presence 1. For the University of Bologna, see Schwinges, “Student Education, Student Life,” 171– 243, at 202, 225. The few instances in which a daughter substituted for or succeeded her father in teaching at Bologna are probably far more about a family’s control of a position than equal opportunity. For Cracow, see Michael H. Shank, “A Female University Student in Late Medieval Krakow,” Signs 12.2 (1987): 373– 80. 2. On the education of women in the Middle Ages, see Charles Jourdain, L’Éducation des femmes au Moyen Âge ( Paris: Didot frères, 1871); Charles Jourdain, “Mémoire sur l’éducation des femmes au Moyen Âge,” in Mémoires de l’Institut national de France 26.1 (1874): 79–133, repr. in Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques, 463– 509; Lynn Thorndike, “Elementary and Secondary Education in the Middle Ages,” Speculum 15 (1940): 400 – 408, at 407; Joan Ferrante, “The Education of Women in the Middle Ages in Theory, Fact, and Fantasy,” in Beyond Their Sex: Learned Women of the European Past, ed. Patricia H. Labalme ( New York: New York University Press, 1980), 9– 42; Kim M. Phillips, ed., Medieval Maidens: Young Women and Gender in England, 1270 –1540 ( Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003), 73– 77; Michael Clanchy, “Did Mothers Teach Their Children to Read?,” in Motherhood, Religion, and Society in Medieval Europe, 400 –1400: Essays Presented to Henrietta Leyser, ed. Conrad Leyser and Leslie Smith (Farnham: Ashgate, 2011), 129– 53. 3. CUP II, 29, 31, no. 556. 4. Hercule Géraud, Paris sous Philippe-le-Bel: d’après des documents originaux et notamment d’après un manuscrit contenant “Le rôle de la taille” imposée sur les habitants de Paris en 1292 ( Paris: de Crapelet, 1837), reprinted, with commentary by Caroline Bourlet and Lucie Fossier ( Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1991), 150. 5. Ibid., 54; Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques, 504. 6. Le livre de la taille de Paris, l’an 1297, ed. Karl Michaëlsson, Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift, 67.3 (Göteborg: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1962), 388: “La mestresse de l’escole, 2s, rue aus Oubloiers.” In the taille of 1298, Paris, AnF, KK 283, fol. 143ra, she is identified as “Rose qui tient l’escole, 5s.” 7. Paris, AnF, KK 283, fol. 303va.

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8. CUP III, 24, no. 1220. 9. Paris, Bibliothèque de la Sorbonne, Archives de l’Université, Carton 1, 3e liasse. The four surviving licenses from the fourteenth century, two dated 1359, one dated 1371, and one dated 1376, were granted to men, all masters in arts and active in the university, one of whom was rector of a parish church just south of Paris and held a canonical prebend in a collegiate church at Vitry-enPerthois as well as one in a collegiate church at Verdun. The licenses are edited in CUP III, 52n– 53n, no. 1237, in connection with the oaths and statutes regulating grammar teachers in Paris, both male and female, which are translated in Lynn Thorndike, University Records and Life in the Middle Ages ( New York: Columbia University Press, 1944; repr. New York: Octagon Books, 1971), 239– 41. On the petites écoles in Paris, see CUP III, 52n– 53n; Gabriel, Garlandia, 99; Olivier Guyotjeannin, “Les petites écoles à Paris dans la première moitié du XVe siècle,” in Finances, pouvoirs et mémoires: Mélanges offert à Jean Favier, ed. Jean Kerhervé and Albert Rigaudière (Paris: Fayard, 1999), 112– 26. 10. CUP III, 289– 91, no. 1446. 11. The number 11 is given by Hercule Géraud for the male “maistres-del’Escoles” in his edition of the 1292 taille, Paris sous Philippe-le-Bel, 521, which, with Tyfainne added, makes twelve, the number given by Gabriel, Garlandia, 99. The actual number of male teachers listed in the taille of 1292 is twelve, one of them anonymous and listed as “le mestre de l’escole de Tire-Chape.” With Tyfainne added, the total is thirteen. The additional woman whose occupation or surname is described as “la mestresse” is Avise in the parish of Saint-Germainl’Auxerrois (p. 25). 12. Shank, “A Female University Student in Late Medieval Krakow.” 13. CUP II, 149, no. 692. 14. CUP II, 149– 53, no. 693, and nos. 693a– 693c. 15. CUP II, 150 – 51, no. 693a. 16. CUP II, 255– 56, no. 811. 17. CUP II, 255: “nullus qui non sit magisterio medicine decoratus Parisius nec de magistris in facultate predicta Parisius regentibus et a domino cancellario approbatus, audeat Parisius et ejus suburbiis practicale medicine officium exercere sub pena excommunicationis et sexaginta librarum parisien. dicto officiali Parisiensi et facultati predicte.” 18. CUP II, 256– 67, nos. 812–16. 19. Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 69. 20. CUP II, 670a. 21. I am grateful to my colleague in medieval French literature, Douglas Kelly, for providing me with this information. 22. Henry of Ghent, Summae Quaestionum Ordinariarum Theologi ( Paris, 1520; repr. St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Institute, 1953). For discussion, see J. Baumer, “Die Stellung Heinrichs von Gent zum theologischen Studium der Frau,” Scholastik 32 (1957), 81– 85; Frances A. Ball, “Henry of Ghent and

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Theological Education for Women” ( MA thesis, University of Wisconsin– Madison, 1974). 23. Henry of Ghent, Summa Quaestionum, art. 11, q. 2. 24. I Timothy ii.12: “I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent.” 25. Henry of Ghent, Summa Quaestionum, art. 12, q. 1. 26. Tanya Stabler Miller (aka Stabler), The Beguines of Medieval Paris (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014), 82–102; see also Nicole Bériou, L’avènement des maîtres de la Parole: La prédication à Paris au XIIIe siècle, 2 vols. (Paris: Institut d’études augustiniennes, 1998). 27. Stabler Miller, The Beguines of Medieval Paris, 96; see also Nicole Bériou, “La prédication au beguinage de Paris pendant l’anneé liturgique 1272–1273,” Recherches augustiennes 13 (1978): 105– 229. 28. Stabler Miller, The Beguines of Medieval Paris, 82. 29. Sean L. Field, “The Master and Marguerite: Godfrey of Fontaines’ Praise of the Mirror of Simple Souls,” Journal of Medieval History 35 (2009): 136 – 46. 30. Rot. Par., I, 54. 31. Rot. Par., I, 56– 61. 32. Matricularia has several meanings, including church sexton, a grouping of widows supported by a church, or someone on such a list. But in this case, it meant the office of sexton and was interchangeable with custodian, as in the phrase “de quibusdam officiis, matricularie alias custodie nuncupatur” (Rot. Par., II, 448). 33. Rot Par., I, 86– 87. 34. Rot Par., III, 94. 35. Rot Par., III, 186: “Johanni Danton de Parisius, clerico coniugato, subbedello nationis Gallicane, de matricularia officio, custodia, leprosaria aut alio quocumque officio.” 36. Rot Par., III, 523. 37. Rot Par., III, 641. 38. Rot Par., II, 448: “mandatur ut Johanni de Olmis, clerico coniugato Remen. dioc., magistri in artibus, unum de quibusdam officiis, matricularie alias custodie nuncupatur, que quandoque laicis et interdum clericis coniugatis consueverunt assignari in eccl. Remen. existentibus reservatur.” 39. Rot. Par., II, 112. 40. Rot. Par., II, 319– 20. 41. Grégoire XI (1370 –1378): Lettres Communes, ed. A.-M. Hayez, J. Mathieu, and M.-F. Yvan (Rome, 1992– ), no. 38815. 42. Rot. Par., III, 130. 43. CUP II, 291n, no. 852; 341, no. 909; Ernest Wickersheimer, Dictionnaire biographique des médecins en France au Moyen Âge ( Paris: Droz, 1936; repr. Geneva: Droz, 1979), 533– 34; D. Jacquart, Supplément au «Dictionnaire

176

Notes to Pages 91 – 93

biographique des médedins» d’Ernest Wickersheimer (Geneva: Droz, 1979), 202– 3; Courtenay, Parisian Scholars, 188. 44. CUP II, 341, no. 909: “nos tuis in hac parte supplicantionibus inclinati ut quibuscumque statutis et consuetudinibus Universitatis studii prelibati et illo presertim quo caveri dicitur, quod nullus uxoratus actu regendo legere possit Parisius in scientia supradicta, regendo actu in eodem studio legere valeas scientiam . . . de speciali gratia indulgemus.” 45. CUP II, 28– 32, no. 556. Female landlords accounted for 7 of 29 properties listed in 1286, 3 of 17 in 1287, and 2 of 17 in 1288. Some of the properties were owned by religious institutions. One of the properties in 1286 was a school (“Domum scole domine Annette de Arke in vico Straminum”); similarly, one in 1288 (“Scole domine Johanne le Frissonne inter duas portas juxta Fratres Minores in alto”). Presumably the women connected to these schools were the owners of the property, not the teachers, although they may also have taught. 46. Le livre de la taille de Paris, l’an 1296, ed. Karl Michaëlsson, Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift, 64.4 (Göteborg: Elanders boktryckeri aktiebolag, 1958); Le livre de la taille de Paris, l’an 1297; Le livre de la taille de Paris l’an de grace 1313, ed. K. Michaëlsson, Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift, 57.3 (Göteborg: Wettergren & Kerbers, 1951). See also David Herlihy, Opera Muliebria: Women and Work in Medieval Europe (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1990), 142– 48. 47. Richard H. Rouse and Mary A. Rouse, Manuscripts and Their Makers: Commercial Book Producers in Medieval Paris 1200 –1500, 2 vols. ( Turnhout: Brepols, 2000). The biographies of 32 women connected with manuscript production and the book trade are given in vol. 2, pp. 11–142. 48. Richard H. Rouse and Mary A. Rouse, “The Book Trade at the University of Paris, ca. 1250 – ca. 1350,” in La production du livre universitaire au Moyen Âge: Exemplar et pecia, ed. Louis J. Bataillon, Bertrand G. Guyot, and Richard H. Rouse (Paris: Editions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1988), 41–114, esp. 66 – 64; repr. in Mary A. Rouse and Richard H. Rouse, Authentic Witnesses ( Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1991), 259– 338. See also Rouse, Manuscripts and Their Makers, 1:81– 97. 49. Jacques Verger, “Les reines et le savoir: Reines et princesses fondatrices ou protectrices d’universités ou de collèges au Moyen Âge,” in Reines et princesses au Moyen Âge, Cahiers du CRISIMA 1, no. 5 ( Montpellier: Association CRISIMA, Université de Paul-Valéry, 2001), 103–12. 50. Rashdall, The Universities of Europe, 320 – 22. 51. John Richard Magrath, The Queen’s College, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1921), 13– 21. 52. Ibid., 14 n. 3: “sub nomine aule scholarium Regine de Oxon.” 53. Ibid., 36– 37, 43– 49. 54. Statutes of the Colleges of Oxford, vol. 1 (Oxford and London: J. H. Parker and Longman, Brown, Green, & Longmans, 1853), pt. 4: Statutes of Queen’s Col-

Notes to Pages 93 – 99

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lege, Oxford, 26: “in capella infra mansum eorundem situata, vel ecclesia parochiali . . . in officio divino indies ministrantes et horas canonicas in ipsa capella vel ecclesia hora debita, secundum usum ecclesiae Sarum, in omnibus quantumcunque bono modo fieri poterit, devotius decantantes; qui quolibet die quo dicendae sunt exequiae mortuorum iuxta usum Sarum pro animabus Fundatorum, Benefactorum aulae predictae . . . exequias mortuorum cum commendatione in choro in animae suae periculo dicere teneantur.” Ibid., 28: “recitet publice coram astantibus nomina Benefactorum, et specialiter domini Regis Edwardi Tertii . . . , ac dominae Philippae Reginae, Fundatricis ac patronae dictae aulae, consortis ejusdem, ac Benefactorum praedictorum seu conferentium beneficia perpetua in futurum; pro quibus tam in vita quam in morte, flexis genibus fiant preces hujusmodi speciales.” See also Magrath, The Queen’s College, 37 n. 1 55. Statutes of the Colleges of Oxford, 1:26– 30, 34 – 36. 56. Ibid., vol. 1, pt. 4, 33– 34. 57. Rashdall, The Universities of Europe, 3:210. 58. Trevor H. Aston and Rosamond Faith, “The Endowments of the University and Colleges to circa 1348,” in The History of the University of Oxford, vol. 1: The Early Oxford Schools, ed. Jeremy I. Catto (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), 265– 309, at 282– 83. 59. Gorochov, Le collège de Navarre, 125– 82. 60. Elizabeth A. R. Brown, “La mort, les testaments et les fondations de Jeanne de Navarre, reine de France (1273–1305),” in Une histoire pour un royaume (XIIe–XVe siècle), ed. Colette Beaune and Anne-Hélène Allirot ( Paris: Perrin, 2010), 124 – 41, 508–10; Elizabeth A. R. Brown, “Moral Imperatives and Conundrums of Conscience: Reflections on Philip the Fair of France,” Speculum 87 (2012): 1– 36. 61. Gorochov, Le collège de Navarre, 144: “Le cœur du collège est occupé par la chapelle, édifice essentiel par ses dimesions qui doivent lui permettre d’accueillir les soixante-dix étudiants, mais surtout par sa fonction: là, chaque jour, on priera en faveur du salut de l’âme de la fondatrice.” 62. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5:635– 37. 63. Ibid., 640. 64. CUP I, 11 (introd., no. 14): “comes Robertus divine pietatis amore quasdam domus, quas habebat Parisius, provisioni pauperum clericorum cum quibusdam redditibus de uxoris et filiorum suorum conniventia deputavit.” 65. Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 2:176, no. 151; 2:195, no. 167. 66. Ibid., 2:173– 74, no. 148; 2:177– 78, no. 153; 2:188– 89, no. 161; 2:189– 90, no. 162; 2:191– 92, no. 164; 2:192– 93, no. 165; 2:194, no. 166; 2:196, no. 168. 67. Sanderlin, The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun, 33– 35. 68. Ibid., 65– 68. 69. Rot. Par., I, 239, 347; Rot. Par., II, 455, 548– 49, 556, 560, 567.

178

Notes to Pages 101 –105

c hapter 6. The Growth of Marian Devotion 1. Charles Mériaux, Gallia irradiata: Saints et sanctuaires dans le nord de la Gaule du haut Moyen Âge, Beiträge zur Hagiographie 4 (Stuttgart: Steiner Verlag, 2006). 2. Eugen Ewig, “Die Kathedralpatrozinein im Römischen und im Fränkischen Gallien,” in Eugen Ewig, Spätantikes und Fränkisches Gallien: Gesammelte Schriften (1952–1973), 2 vols., Bd. 2, ed. Hartmut Atsma (Munich: Artemis Verlag, 1979), 2:260 – 317. 3. See the online database: http://vafl-s-applirecherche.unilim.fr/collegi ales/. Surprisingly, by the fourteenth century many of those double designations became known only by the name of the saint, among them Saint-Donatien at Bruges and Sainte-Walburge at Veurne in Belgium and Saint-Omer at SaintOmer and Saint-Lazare at Avallon in France. Often this seems to be the result of another foundation in the town adopting a dedication to Notre Dame. 4. On the early dedication of Chartres as Notre-Dame, see Margot Fassler, The Virgin of Chartres ( New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010), 4. 5. The cathedral at Arras had a twin dedication to Notre Dame and St. Vaast. The Paris cathedral was earlier dedicated to St. Stephen; see The Annales of St-Bertin, trans. Janet L. Nelson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1991), 85. 6. AnF, sc/D 7252 (Paris), sc/D 7190 (Laon), sc/D 7300 (Rouen), sc/D 7178 (Évreux), and sc/D 7176 (Étampes). The numbers after “D” in this and subsequent notes refer to entries in Louis Douët d’Arcq, Collection des sceaux: Inventaires et documents des Archives de l’empire, vol. 2 ( Paris: Henri Plon, 1867). For the image of the Virgin on the seal of the cathedral of Chartres, see Fassler, The Virgin of Chartres, pl. 3. 7. Chartres, 1207: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7150); Mantes, 1210: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7215), image reproduced in Brigitte Bedos-Rezak, “Medieval Women in French Sigillographic Sources,” in Medieval Women and the Sources of Medieval History, ed. Joel T. Rosenthal (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1990), repr. in Brigitte Bedos-Rezak, Form and Order in Medieval France (Brookfield, VT: Aldershot, 1993), ch. 10, p. 35, fig. 7; Senlis, 1213: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7321); Paris, 1216: Virgin alone (sc/D 7253); Paris, 1222: Virgin alone (sc/D 7254); Corbeil, 1222: Virgin alone (sc/D 7161); Reims, 1224: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7289); Soissons, 1231: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7326); and Melun, 1236: Virgin and Child (sc/D 7223). 8. Clermont, 1201: bust of the crowned Virgin (sc/D 6576); Rodez, 1219: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6836); Lisieux, 1221: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6661); Paris, 1222, 1224: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6786, 6787); Limoges, 1225: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6654); Chartres, 1227: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6568); and Cambrai, 1227: Virgin and Child (sc/D 6536). The image was retained on

Notes to Pages 105 –112

179

counterseals of the bishops of Paris into the early fourteenth century; see sc/D 6788, 6789, 6791, 6792. It is worth noting that in 1221 the bishop of Lisieux, whose counterseal has the image of the Virgin and Child, was William of Pont de l’Arche, regent master in theology at Paris before becoming bishop in 1218 and thus contemporary with the earliest seal of the University of Paris that was destroyed in 1225. 9. For a full discussion of the seal and its earlier fragments, see Courtenay, “Magisterial Authority,” 63–114. 10. Ibid., 88– 90. 11. On Mary as seal, see Rachel Fulton [ Brown], From Judgment to Passion: Devotion to Christ and the Virgin Mary, 800 –1200 ( New York: Columbia University Press, 2002). 12. One should not interpret certain elements of the iconography of the Great Seal, such as the roofline of a cathedral or the figure of a bishop, as references to the university’s early connection with the cathedral school or an acknowledgment of the authority of the bishop over the university. Such an interpretation is almost certainly not the intended meaning of the Parisian masters who chose the design of the seal. Several of the most important privileges of the university were gained at the expense of the bishop and chapter of Notre-Dame, and despite the fact that the cathedral chancellor licensed all those who became masters in the higher faculties of theology, canon law, and medicine and many of those in arts, and in this period was almost always himself a master of theology and thus a member of the university, there were frequent conflicts throughout the thirteenth century between university masters and both the bishop and chancellor. 13. CUP I, 258– 59, no. 231, transcribed from Bibl. de la Sorbonne, Univ. Archives, carton IV. A.18.f. The seals on the document are now missing. The same is true of a document of 1267 that also once had the seals of the four nations (CUP I, 467– 69, no. 416, transcribed from Bibl. de la Sorbonne, Univ. Archives, carton IV A.18.g). The seals of the Norman and English nations as found on a document from the late fourteenth century and discussed in René Gandilhon, Sigillographie des universités de France ( Paris: Delmas, 1952), 89– 91 and pls. xiv and xv, have the coronation of the Virgin rather than the Virgin and Child. 14. The matrices for the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century castings of the Great Seal of the University of Paris are in the collection of the Bibliothèque nationale in Paris, ancien fonds. A comparison of the details of the 1292 wax seal with fragments of the wax seal on a document dated to 1253 prove their identity, as illustrated in Courtenay, “Magisterial Authority,” 89– 95. 15. See Georgiana Donavin, Scribit Mater: Mary and the Language of Arts in the Literature of Medieval England ( Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2012), 75–114. The Pseudo-Albertus Magnus in his Mariale sive

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Notes to Pages 112 –121

CCXXX quaestiones super Evangeium written in the thirteenth century credits Mary with full knowledge of the liberal arts, theology, medicine, civil and canon law, and much else, as described by Rachel Fulton Brown, Mary and the Art of Prayer: The Hours of the Virgin in Medieval Christian Life and Thought ( New York: Columbia University Press, 2017), 81– 82. 16. Laura S. Miles, “The Origins and Development of the Virgin Mary’s Book at the Annunciation,” Speculum 89 (2014): 632– 69; Stephen Mossman, Marquard von Lindau and the Challenges of Religious Life in Late Medieval Germany (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 243– 334. 17. See Fassler, The Virgin of Chartres, 207– 41. 18. I am grateful to Christoph Mackert in the Handschrift Abteilung der Universitätsbibliothek Leipzig for alerting me to the Laon window. 19. Universitätsbibliothek Leipzig, Cod. lat. 1253, fol. 3r. 20. This corrects a statement in “Magisterial Authority,” 98, where I interpreted the object in Sophia’s right hand to be the grammarian’s rod of discipline. On closer inspection there is no long staff but only the fleur-de-lys, possibly with stem, above the hand. 21. CUP I, 68, no. 9. 22. Gorochov, Le collège de Navarre, 160: “Item predicti magistri et scolares necnon capellani et clerici in quatuor festis annualibus et in festis Beate Virginis, Beati Johannis Baptiste, Beati Nicolai, et Beati Ludovici, et in quatuor anniversariis predictis, videlicet in vigiliis et festis predictis, insimul et in eodem loco comedere tenebuntur.” 23. Glorieux, Aux origines de la Sorbonne, 1:208: “ista die fuit in aula deliberatum quod in honorem beate Virginis singulis diebus sabbati missa cum nota, scilicet Salve sancta parens, in perpetuum cantaretur.” 24. Ibid., 227. 25. Fabris, Étudier et vivre à Paris, 59. 26. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 5:636, 640: “quod capellanus domus eiusdem vel se vel per alium idoneum sacerdotem singulis diebus in capella dicta domus missam celebret cum nota vel sine nota, singulis vero diebus Dominicis, et in Nativitatis, Circumcissionis, Epiphaniae, Resurrectionis et Ascensionis Domini, Pentecostes, Corporis Christi, et in omnibus beatissimae Virginis Mariae dominae nostrae, Nativitatis beati Joannis Baptistae, omnium apostolorum, quatuor doctorum principalium et Omnium Sanctorum festivitatibus missam et omnes horas canonicas dicat et celebret solemniter et cum nota; et quod tam magister quam omnes et singuli scholares domus eiusdem horis et missae praedictis dicendis solemniter intersint a principio usque ad finem tam missae quam horarum ipsarum . . . et quod qualibet die Sabbathi post completorium capellanus, magister, et scholares . . . conveniant in capella . . . et antiphonam Salve Regina decantent solemniter et devote.” 27. For Autun, see Sanderlin, The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun, 32, 38– 39; for Cambrai, see Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:433.

Notes to Pages 121 –130

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28. Félibien, Histoire de la Ville de Paris, 3:442. 29. Féret, Faculté de théologie, 3:612–13. 30. Kouamé, Le collège de Dormans-Beauvais, 83– 84. 31. Féret, Faculté de théologie, 3:639– 53. 32. I am grateful to Jean-Luc Chassel for providing the information and images connected with colleges at Paris discussed here. 33. Courtenay, “Magisterial Authority”; and Jean-Luc Chassel, “Doctus cum libro: L’image des maîtres et universitaires dans les sceaux médiévaux,” Revue française d’héraldique et de sigillographie 80 – 82 (2010 –12): 73– 91. 34. That Henry held the title of master in documents, although not on his seals, suggests a university degree, but whether in theology or canon law or simply in arts and whether from Paris, which seems likely in terms of his career, are unknown. He was still active in the cathedral chapter at Paris in 1286; CUP II, 5, no. 534: “magistros Johannem de Bertencuria, Dudonem, et Henricum dictum Tuebeuf, canonicos nostros in capitulo.” 35. Referred to with those titles in letters from Innocent IV dated 29 October 1253 (ASV, Reg. Vat. 23, fol. 115, no. 799) and March 18, 1254 (ASV, Reg. Vat. 23, fol. 122, no. 848). For his biography, see Palémon Glorieux, La littérature quodlibétique de 1260 à 1320, 2 vols. ( Kain, Belgium: Le Saulchoir, 1925; Paris: J. Vrin, 1935), 1:99–100; Palémon Glorieux, Répertoire des maîtres en théologie de Paris au xiiie siècle, 2 vols. ( Paris: J. Vrin, 1933), 1:376 – 77, no. 186. 36. In 1282, on his seal as prior of the collegiate church of Saint-Omer, one of his many offices, Adenulf chose an image of two figures in niches, one holding a key and the other dressed as a bishop holding a cross, according to Douët d’Arcq (sc/D 7693). There are two other seals of canons of NotreDame at Paris in the thirteenth century with the image of the Virgin: Simon of Sèvres on a document of 1275 (sc/D 7793) and Leonard of Lavania on a document of 1282 (sc/D 7794). 37. Glorieux, Répertoire des maîtres en théologie, 1:376. 38. The different image on his seal as prior of Saint-Omer may suggest that his choice of the Virgin and Child for his seal as canon at Notre-Dame in Paris followed a trend current among canons at Notre-Dame in that period rather than a reflection of a deeply felt devotion. 39. The document is edited in CUP II, 574 – 75, no. 489. 40. Commentum de laudibus Virginis, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München, Clm 14190, is unedited. These events are discussed in more detail in William J. Courtenay, “Conrad of Megenberg as Nuntius and His Quest for Benefices,” in Konrad von Megenberg (1309–1374) und sein Werk: Das Wissen der Zeit, Sonderdruck aus Zeitschrift für Bayerische Landesgeschichte, Beihefte 31, Reihe B, ed. Claudia Märtl, Gisela Drossbach, and Martin Kintzinger ( Munich: C. H. Beck, 2006), 7– 23. 41. Commentum de laudibus Virginis, Clm 14190, fol. 28ra.

182

Notes to Pages 132 –134

chapter 7. Balancing Inequality 1. Deans in some faculties, such as medicine, were elected and could be removed from office, while the dean of the faculty of theology was the oldest serving regent. 2. Schwinges, “Student Education, Student Life,” 195– 243 at 198– 200, 206–11. 3. William J. Courtenay, “Foreign Scholars at Paris in the Early Fourteenth Century: The Crisis of 1313,” History of Universities 15 (1997– 99): 47– 74. 4. As a result of the resolution of a conflict between the university and the monastery of Saint-Germain-des-Prés in 1278, two university chaplaincies were created in atonement for the killing of two students (CUP I, 567– 68, no. 482; 569– 70, no. 484). King Philip IV reaffirmed that agreement in 1286 (CUP II, 7, no. 537). Another chaplaincy was created in 1289 because of the killing of students by members of the entourage of Cardinal Jean Cholet, who was himself a friend of the university (CUP II, 34 – 35, no. 560; 37– 38, no. 563). Similarly, four chaplaincies were created in 1296 and 1298 as a result of the murder of Simon de Messemy, a master of arts (CUP II, 71– 72, no. 597; 82, no. 609).

selected bibliog r a phy

Manuscripts Leipzig, Universitätsbibliothek. Cod. 1253: Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy. Paris, Archives nationales de France. KK 283: Livre des tailles, 1296 –1300. Paris, Archives nationales de France. M 137, no. 8b: Statutes of the Collège de Justice. Paris, Archives nationales de France. MM 406: Statutes of the Collège de Hubant (Ave Maria College). Paris, Bibliothèque du Saulchoir. Rés. Ms B 08: Cartulary of the Saint-Jacques convent. Vatican City, Archivum Secretum Vaticanum. Reg. Vat. 23. Printed Sources Auctarium Chartularii Universitatis Parisiensis, vol. 1. Edited by Heinrich Denifle and Émile Chatelain. Paris: Delalain frères, 1894. Biel, Gabriel. Canonis misse expositio. 4 vols. Edited by Heiko A. Oberman and William J. Courtenay. Wiesbaden: Steiner Verlag, 1963– 67. Bonaventura. Commentaria in quatuor libros sententiarum. In Opera Omnia. Vols. 1–4. Quaracchi: Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae ad Claras Aquas, 1882–89. Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis. Edited by Heinrich Denifle and Émile Chatelain. 4 vols. Paris: Delalain frères, 1889–94. Corpus iuris canonici. Edited by Aemilius Friedberg. 2 vols. Leipzig: Tauchnitz, 1879. Councils & Synods with Other Documents Relating to the English Church, vol. 2, pt. 2. Edited by Frederick M. Powicke and Christopher R. Cheney. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964. 183

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Douët d’Arcq, Louis. Collection des sceaux: Inventaires et documents des Archives de l’empire. Vol. 2. Paris: Henri Plon, 1867. Fasciculus Morum: A Fourteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook. Edited and translated by Siegfried Wenzel. University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989. Félibien, Michel. Histoire de la Ville de Paris. 5 vols. Paris: G. Desprez et J. Desessartz, 1725. Gesta Philippi Augusti. In Œuvres de Rigord et de Guillaume le Breton, historiens de Philippe-Auguste. Vol. 1: Chroniques de Rigord et de Guillaume le Breton. Edited by Henri-François Delaborde. Paris: Renouard, 1882. Godefroid de Fontaines (Godfrey of Fontaines). Les Quodlibet cinq, six, et sept. Edited by Maurice De Wulf and Jean Hoffmans. Louvain: Institut supérieur de philosophie de l’Université, 1914. Gregory the Great. Dialogues. Vol. 3. Edited by Adalbert de Vogüé. Sources chrétiennes 265. Paris: Cerf, 1980. Guido de Orchellis. Tractatus de sacramentis ex eius summa de sacramentis et officiis ecclesiae. Edited by Damien and Odulphus Van den Eynde. St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Institute, 1953. Guillelmus Altissiodorensis ( William of Auxerre). Summa aurea. 5 vols. Edited by Jean Ribaillier. Paris: Editions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique; Rome: Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae ad Claras Aquas, 1980 –87. Innocentius V ( Peter of Tarantasia). In IV Librum Sententiarum Commentaria. Toulouse: Arnaldus Colomerius, 1651. Repr. Ridgewood, NJ: Gregg Press, 1964. Johannes Duns Scotus. Opera Omnia. Vol. 26: Quaestiones Quodlibetales. Paris: Vivès, 1895. Le livre de la taille de Paris, l’an 1296. Edited by Karl Michaëlsson. Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift, 64.4. Göteborg: Elanders boktryckeri aktiebolag, 1958. Le livre de la taille de Paris, l’an 1297. Edited by Karl Michaëlsson. Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift 67.3. Göteborg: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1962. Le livre de la taille de Paris l’an de grace 1313. Edited by Karl Michaëlsson. Göteborgs Universitets Ǻrsskrift 57.3. Göteborg: Wettergren & Kerbers, 1951. Pierre le Chantre. Summa de Sacramentis et animae consiliis, pt. II. Analecta Mediaevalia Namurcensia 7. Edited by Jean-Albert Dugauquier. Louvain / Lille: Nauwelaerts/Giard, 1957. ———. Summa de Sacramentis et animae consiliis, pt. III, 2a. Analecta Mediaevalia Namurcensia 16. Edited by Jean-Albert Dugauquier. Louvain /Lille: Nauwelaerts/Giard, 1963. Prepositinus Cancellarius. De Sacramentis et de Novissimis (Summae Theologicae, Pars Quarta). Edited by Daniel Edward Pilarczyk. Collectio Urbaniana, ser. 3, Textus ac documenta 7. Rome: Editiones Urbaniana, 1964.

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Ricardus de Mediavilla. Scriptum super quarto Sententiarum. Brescia, 1591. Repr. Frankfurt: Minerva, 1963. Rotuli Parisienses: Supplications to the Pope from the University of Paris. 3 vols. Edited by William J. Courtenay and Eric D. Goddard. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2002, 2004, 2013. Scala coeli de Jean Gobi. Edited by Marie-Anne Polo de Beaulieu. Paris: Institut de recherche et d’histoire des textes, 1991. Thomas Aquinas. In quatuor libros sententiarum. Opera Omnia, vol. 1. Edited by Roberto Busa. Stuttgart – Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1980. ———. Quaestiones quodlibetales. Opera Omnia, vol. 3. Edited by Roberto Busa. Stuttgart – Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog, 1980.

Secondary Literature Aston, Trevor H., and Rosamond Faith. “The Endowments of the University and Colleges to circa 1348.” In The History of the University of Oxford, vol. 1: The Early Oxford Schools, edited by Jeremy I. Catto, 265–309. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984. Baldwin, John. Paris, 1200. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010. Ball, Frances A. “Henry of Ghent and Theological Education for Women,” MA thesis, University of Wisconsin–Madison, 1974. Baumer, J. “Die Stellung Heinrichs von Gent zum theologischen Studium der Frau.” Scholastik 32 (1957): 81–85. Bedos-Rezak, Brigitte. “Medieval Women in French Sigillographic Sources.” In Medieval Women and the Sources of Medieval History, edited by Joel T. Rosenthal, 1–36. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1990. Reprinted in Brigitte Bedos-Rezak, Form and Order in Medieval France, ch. 10. Brookfield, VT: Aldershot, 1993. Bériou, Nicole. L’avènement des maîtres de la Parole: La prédication à Paris au XIIIe siècle. 2 vols. Paris: Institut d’études augustiniennes, 1998. ———. “La prédication au beguinage de Paris pendant l’année liturgique 1272–1273.” Recherches augustiennes 13 (1978): 105– 229. Binski, Paul. Medieval Death: Ritual and Representation. London: British Museum, 1996. Boyce, Gray C. The English-German Nation in the University of Paris during the Middle Ages. Bruges: Saint Catherine Press, 1927. Brown, Elizabeth A. R. “Death and the Human Body in the Later Middle Ages: The Legislation of Boniface VIII on the Division of the Corpse.” Viator 12 (1981): 221–70. ———. “Moral Imperatives and Conundrums of Conscience: Reflections on Philip the Fair of France.” Speculum 87 (2012): 1–36.

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———. “Mémoire sur l’éducation des femmes au moyen âge.” In Mémoires de l’Institut national de France 26.1 (1874): 79–133. Reprinted in Charles Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques à travers le Moyen Âge, 463–509. Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1888. ———. La taxe des logements dans l’Université de Paris. Paris: Société de l’histoire de Paris, 1878. Reprinted in Charles Jourdain, Excursions historiques et philosophiques à travers le Moyen Âge, 249– 63. Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1888. Jungmann, Joseph A. The Mass of the Roman Rite. Vol. 1. Translated by Francis A. Brunner. Blackrock, Ireland: Four Courts Press, 1951. Kaye, Joel. Economy and Nature in the Fourteenth Century: Money, Market Exchange, and the Emergence of Scientific Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. ———. A History of Balance, 1250 –1375: The Emergence of a New Model of Equilibrium and Its Impact on Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Kibre, Pearl. The Nations in the Mediaeval Universities. Cambridge, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 1948. Kouamé, Thierry. Le collège de Dormans-Beauvais à la fin du Moyen Âge. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2005. Lacombe, Georges. Prepositini Cancellarii Parisiensis (1206–1210) Opera Omnia I: La vie et les œuvres de Prévostin. Bibliothèque Thomiste 11. Kain: Le Saulchoir, 1927. Lefebvre-Teillard, Ann. “Texts and Parisian Context of the Licentia Docendi at the Beginning of the Thirteenth Century.” In Texts and Contexts in Legal History: Essays in Honor of Charles Donahue, edited by John Witte, Sara McDougall, and Anna di Robilant, 159–77. Berkeley, CA: Robbins Collection, 2016. Le Goff, Jacques. The Birth of Purgatory. Translated by Arthur Goldhammer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984. ———. Your Money or Your Life: Economy and Religion during the Middle Ages. Translated by Patricia Ranum. New York: Zone Books, 1988. Longère, Jean. “La fonction pastorale de Saint-Victor à la fin du xiie siècle et au début du xiiie siècle.” In L’Abbaye parisienne de Saint-Victor au Moyen Âge, edited by Jean Longère, 291–313. Paris: Brepols, 1991. Magrath, John Richard. The Queen’s College. Vol. 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1921. Makdisi, George. “Baghdad, Bologna, and Scholasticism.” In Centres of Learning: Learning and Location in Pre-Modern Europe and the Near East, edited by H. J. W. Drijvers and Alasdair A. MacDonald, 141–57. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995.

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———. “The College in Medieval Islam.” In Logos Islamikos: Studia Islamica in Honorem Georgii Michaelis Wickens, edited by Roger Savory and Dionisius Agius, 241–57. Toronto: Pontifical Institute for Medieval Studies, 1984. ———. “Interaction between Islam and the West.” In L’Enseignement en Islam et en Occident au Moyen Âge, edited by George Makdisi, Dominique Sourdel, and Janine Sourdel-Thomine, 287–309. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1978. ———. “Law and Traditionalism in the Institutions of Learning of Medieval Islam.” In Theology and Law in Islam, edited by Gustave E. von Grunebaum, 75–88. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971. ———. “The Madrasa as a Charitable Trust and the University as a Corporation in the Middle Ages.” In Actes du Ve Congrès International d’Arabisants et d’Islamisants, Brussels, 1970. Correspondance d’Orient 11 (1971): 329–37. ———. “Madrasa and University in the Middle Ages.” Studia Islamica 32 (1970): 255– 64. ———. “Muslim Institutions of Learning in Eleventh-Century Baghdad.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 24 (1961): 1–56. ———. “On the Origin and Development of the College in Islam and the West.” In Islam and the Medieval West, edited by Khalil I. Semaan, 26 – 49. Albany: State Universities of New York Press, 1980. Reprinted in Studies in Arab History: The Antonius Lectures, 1978–87, edited by Derek Hopwood, 1–19. London: Saint Martin’s Press, 1990. ———. The Rise of Colleges: Institutions of Learning in Islam and the West. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1981. ———. The Rise of Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West, with Special Reference to Scholasticism. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1990. ———. “The Scholastic Method in Medieval Education: An Inquiry into Its Origins in Law and Theology.” Speculum 49 (1974): 640 – 61. ———. “Scholasticism and Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 109 (1989): 175–82. Menache, Sophia. Vox Dei: Communication in the Middle Ages. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990. Miles, Laura S. “The Origins and Development of the Virgin Mary’s Book at the Annunciation.” Speculum 89 (2014): 632– 69. Pantin, William A. “The Halls and Schools of Medieval Oxford: An Attempt at Reconstruction.” In Oxford Studies Presented to Daniel Callus, Oxford Historical Society, n.s. 16, 31–100. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964. Perraut, Aurélie. L’Architecture des collèges parisiens au Moyen Âge. Paris: Presses de l’université Paris-Sorbonne, 2009. Post, Gaines. “Parisian Masters as a Corporation, 1200 –1246.” Speculum 9 (1934): 421– 45. Reprinted in G. Post, Studies in Medieval Legal Thought, 27– 60. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1964.

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Rashdall, Hastings. The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages. 3 vols. Edited by Frederick M. Powicke and A. B. Emden. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1936. Rouse, Richard H., and Mary A. Rouse. “The Book Trade at the University of Paris, ca. 1250 – ca. 1350.” In La production du livre universitaire au Moyen Âge: Exemplar et pecia, ed. Louis J. Bataillon, Bertrand G. Guyot, and Richard H. Rouse, 41–114. Paris: Editions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique, 1988. Reprinted in Mary A. Rouse and Richard H. Rouse, Authentic Witnesses, 259–338. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1991. ———. Manuscripts and Their Makers: Commercial Book Producers in Medieval Paris 1200 –1500. 2 vols. Turnhout: Brepols, 2000. Salter, Herbert Edward, Medieval Oxford. Oxford Historical Society 100. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1936. ———. “An Oxford Hall in 1424.” In Essays in History Presented to Reginald Lane Poole, edited by Henry William Carless Davis, 421–35. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1927. Sanderlin, David. The Mediaeval Statutes of the College of Autun at the University of Paris. Notre Dame, IN: Medieval Institute, 1971. Schwinges, Rainer Christoph. “Student Education, Student Life.” In A History of the University in Europe, vol. 1: Universities in the Middle Ages, edited by Hilde de Ridder-Symoens, 195– 243. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Shank, Michael H. “A Female University Student in Late Medieval Krakow.” Signs 12.2 (1987): 373–80. Sourdel, Dominique. “Réflexions sur la diffusion de la madrasa en Orient du XIe au XIIIe siècle.” Revue des études islamique 44 (1976): 165–84. Stabler Miller, Tanya. The Beguines of Medieval Paris. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014. Sullivan, Thomas. “The Collège de Cluny: Statutes of Abbot Simon de la Brosse (1365).” Revue Bénédictine 98 (1988): 169–77. Talazac-Landaburu, Annie. La nation de France au sein de l’Université de Paris d’après le livre de ses procureurs, 1443–1456. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1975. Tanaka, Mineo. La nation anglo-allemande de l’Université de Paris à la fin du Moyen Âge. Paris: Klincksieck, 1990. Thijssen, J. M. M. Hans. “Master Amalric and the Amalricians: Inquisitorial Procedure and the Suppression of Heresy at the University of Paris.” Speculum 71 (1996): 43– 65. Thiry, Claude. “De la mort marâtre à la mort vaincue: Attitudes devant la mort dans la déploration funèbre française.” In Death in the Middle Ages, edited by Herman Braet and Werner Verbeke, 239–57. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1983.

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Toulouse, Madeleine. La nation anglaise-allemande de l’Université de Paris des origines à la fin du XVe siècle. Paris: Sirey, 1939. Verger, Jacques. “Le De Patronis IV Nationum Universitatis de César Égasse du Boulay (1662) et la vie religieuse à l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge.” Bulletin de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France (2013): 235– 49. ———. Les gens de savoir dans l’Europe de la fin du Moyen Age. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1997. ———. “Noblesse et savoir: Étudiants nobles aux universités d’Avignon, Cahors, Montpellier et Toulouse (fin du XIVe siècle).” In La noblesse au Moyen Âge, XI e–XV e siècles: Essais à la mémoire de Robert Boutruche, ed. P. Contamine, 289–313. Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1976. ———. “Les reines et le savoir: Reines et princesses fondatrices ou protectrices d’universités ou de collèges au Moyen Âge.” In Reines et princesses au Moyen Âge, Cahiers du CRISIMA 1, no. 5, 103–12. Montpellier: Association CRISIMA, Université de Paul-Valéry, 2001. ———. “Les saints patrons à l’Université de Paris au Moyen Âge.” In Santi patroni e Università in Europa, edited by Patrizia Castelli and Roberto Greci, 1–9. Bologna: Cooperativa Libraria Universitaria Editrice, 2013. ———. “Les universités françaises au XVe siècle: Crise et tentatives de réforme.” In Jacques Verger, Les universités françaises au Moyen Âge, 228–55. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995. Vincent, Catherine. Fiat Lux: Lumière et luminaires dans la vie religieuse du xiii e siècle au début du xvi e siècle. Paris: Cerf, 2004. Williams, Howard. “Death, Memory and Time: A Consideration of the Mortuary Practices at Sutton Hoo.” In Time in the Medieval World, edited by Chris Humphrey and W. M. Ormrod, 35–71. York: York Medieval Press, 2001. ———. “Remembering and Forgetting the Medieval Dead.” In Archaeologies of Remembrance: Death and Memory in Past Societies, edited by Howard Williams, 227–54. New York: Kluwer Academic / Plenum Publishers, 2003. Woodruff, C. D. “The Sacrist Rolls of Christ Church Canterbury.” Archaeologia Cantiana 48 (1936): 47– 48.

index of per sons

I: Ancient and Medieval Adenulf of Anagni, master of arts and theology, 126 Alexander II, pope, 149n14 Amaury de Bene, 9–11, 142n14, 143n17 Annette d’Arke, 83 Artaud, prior of the Collège de Cluny, 122 Augustine, saint, 20, 25 Baldwin of Aumale, master, 126, 128 Bernold of Constance, 76 Boethius, 116 Bonaventure, OFM, saint, 29– 30, 135 Boniface VIII, pope, 95 Catherine, saint, 130 Claricia of Rouen, medical practitioner, 85 Clement VI, pope, 15, 16 Conrad of Megenberg, master of arts, 129, 148 Devorgulla, wife of John Balliol, 94 Durand of Saint-Pourçain, OP, 35

Ela Longespee, countess of Warwick, donor of Merton and Balliol colleges, 94 Elizabeth de Clare, founder of Clare Hall, Cambridge, 94 Elizabeth Woodville, queen of England, cofounder of Queen’s College Cambridge, 93 Gabriel Biel, 35 Geoffrey du Plessis, college founder. 68– 69, 79 Gerard of Abbeville, master of theology, 33 Gerard of Bologna, master of theology, 128 Gervais du Mont Saint-Éloi, master of theology, 155n55 Giles Aycelin, cardinal and college founder, 73– 74 Godfrey of Boissy, canon of Chartres, college founder, 70 Godfrey of Fontaines, 34 – 35, 87– 88 Gratian, 25, 27 Gregory IX, pope, 13 Gregory the Great, pope, 20 – 21, 22, 25 195

196

Index of Persons

Guiard of Laon, master of theology, 151n33 Guy de Laon, college founder, 68 Guy of Orchelles, 29 Henry of Ghent, 86 – 87 Henry Tuebeuf, canon, 124 – 26 Henry Vavassoris, beadle, 89 Henry VI, king of England, college founder, 93 Herveus Natalis, OP, 35 Hugh of St. Victor, 23, 29 Innocent III, pope, 11 Innocent IV, pope, 105 Innocent V, pope. See Peter of Tarantasia, OP, pope Ivo of Chartres, 76 Jacoba Felicie, medical practitioner, 85 Jahanna la Frissonne, 83 James of Thérines, master of theology, 128 Jean de Bully, canon and college founder, 167n32 Jean de Dormans, bishop of Beauvais and college founder, 123 Jean Gobi, OP, 150n26 Jean Lemoine, cardinal and college founder, 71– 73, 149n17 Jerome, saint, 25, 27 Joan of Bourbon, queen of France, 99–100 Joan of Burgundy, queen of France and college founder, 96 Joan of Navarre, queen of France and college founder, 15, 94 – 96, 120 Jocius of London, college founder, 77

John, dean of Saint-Quentin, 12–13, 17, 27– 29, 36, 73, 143n20, 152n36 John Balliol, college founder, 94 John Buridan, 47, 89 John Danton, the younger, subbeadle, 89– 90 John Duns Scotus, OFM, 35– 36 John of Blanot, master of canon law, 124 John of Essônes, fellow of the Sorbonne, 87 John of Garland, 112 John of Olmis, master of arts, 90 John Peckham, OFM, 34 Louis Aycelin, seigneur de Montaigu, 74 Margaret of Anjou, queen of England, cofounder of Queen’s College Cambridge, 93 Marguerite Porete, 87, 88 Marie de Saint-Pol, countess of Pembroke, college founder, 94 Marote la Goge, 86 Mayninus de Maneriis of Milan, doctor of medicine, 91 Michael de Dainvilla, college founder, 70 – 71 Michael de Montecalerio, master of arts, 139n9 Nicholas of Lyra, 96 Peter Abelard, 76, 82 Peter Comestor, 149n14 Peter Damian, cardinal, 21, 148n8 Peter Faverel, medical practitioner, 85 Peter Lombard, 24, 29, 32 Peter of Palude, OP, 35

Index of Persons

Peter of Poitiers, master of theology, 124 Peter of Tarantasia, OP, pope, 31 Peter the Chanter, 25– 29, 36 Philip IV, the Fair, king of France, 85, 94, 122, 128 Philippa of Hainault, queen of England, college founder, 93 Pierre Aycelin, cardinal, 74 Pierre Bertrand, cardinal and college founder, 69, 79, 96, 98 Pierre de Becoud, college founder, 70 Prepositinus, 26 – 27, 29– 31, 36, 135, 150n23, 152n38 Raoul de Presles, college founder, 68 Raoul of Châteauroux, 87 Richard de Beaumont, Parisian scholar and royal secretary, 99–100 Richard of Mediavilla, OFM, 34 Robert, count of Dreux, 96 – 97 Robert de Sorbon, 71, 87– 88, 98, 151– 52n33 Robert of Courson, 7, 36, 49 Robert of Eglesfield, college founder, 93 Rose de l’escole, grammar school teacher, 83 Simon of Kaine, master of arts, 124 Simon of Poissy, Parisian nobleman, 97 Stephen Vidé de Boissy, master, college founder, 67, 70, 170n52 Thomas Aquinas, OP, saint, 30 – 31, 92 Thomas Cobham, bishop, 149n17 Tyfainne, mestresse de l’escole, grammar school teacher, 83

197

Walter of Gamaches, master of theology, 122 William, son of the count of Hainaut, 134 William Alexander, master of theology and canon of NotreDame, 41, 128 William Carnificis de Savigniaco, doctor of medicine, 90 William of Auxerre, master of theology, 28, 29, 152n34 William of Auxonne, bishop of Cambrai and Autun, 70 William of Pont de l’Arche, master of theology and bishop of Lisieux, 178– 79n8 William of Seignelay, bishop of Paris, 9

II: Modern Brown, Peter, 21 Chamberlain, Michael, 77– 79 Douët d’Arcq, Louis, 109 Gabriel, Astrik L., xi Gorochov, Nathalie, 48 Le Goff, Jacques, 1, 26 Mackert, Christoph, 117 Makdisi, George, 76 – 79 Rouse, Richard, and Mary Rouse, 92 Schwinges, Rainer Christoph, 132– 33 Stabler Miller, Tanya, 87– 88 Verger, Jacques, 72

index of places and sub j ec ts

academic halls, 54 – 56, 78, 97– 98, 164nn4 – 5, 172n68 Amiens, cathedral of, 102 Arras, cathedral of, 102

Madrasa, 75– 79 Masses for the Dead: septenarium, 22; tricenarium, 22 Noyon, cathedral of, 102

Bayeux, cathedral of, 102 Bologna, University of, 81 Cambrai, cathedral of, 101, 102 Cambridge, University of, 78, 97– 98; Clare Hall, 94; King’s College, 171n59; King’s Hall, 164n5; Pembroke College, 94; Queen’s College, 92– 93; Trinity College, 164n5 Chartres, cathedral of, 102, 104; windows, 112, 114, 116 colleges, 53– 80, 164n10 Coutances, cathedral of, 102 Cracow, University of, 81, 84 Étampes, church of Notre-Dame, 105 Évreux, cathedral of, 102, 105 Laon, cathedral of, 102, 104; windows, 114 Lille, cathedral of, 102

Oxford, University of, 40 – 41, 54 – 55, 78, 97– 98; All Souls College, 171n59; Balliol College, 94; Exeter College, 164n5; Merton College, 94; Queen’s College, 93; St. Edmund Hall, 164n5 Paris: Beguines, 87– 88; bell towers, 14 –17, 145n30; cemeteries, 9–14, 141n8–142n13; college statutes, 5– 6, 7– 9, 14 –15, 36, 42, 48– 49, 55, 58– 65, 66, 69– 74, 93– 95, 119– 23; Cordeliers, Franciscan convent, 95, 143– 44n21, 161n22; grammar schools and teachers, 50, 82– 84, 140n3, 141n7, 174n9, 174n11; SaintBernard, Cistercian convent and house of studies, 47, 121; Saint-Germain-des-Prés, 199

200

Index of Places and Subjects

Paris (cont.) Benedictine monastery, 45, 141n10, 182n4; Saint-Jacques, Dominican convent, 12–14, 28– 29, 73, 92, 97, 141n10, 144n25, 145nn30 – 31, 152n34, 152n36; Saint-Martin-desChamps, Cluniac priory, 9–11, 15; Saint-Mathurin, Trinitarian convent, 44 – 47, 162n32; Saint-Victor, house of canons, 11, 45, 141n10, 143n18; SainteCatherine, Val-des-Écoliers convent, 13, 15, 145n33; SainteGeneviève, monastery of Victorine canons, 11, 59– 60, 85, 141n10; tailles, 83– 84, 91 Paris, churches, 44 – 46, 141nn8– 9; Saint-André-des-Arts, 44 – 45, 47, 67, 161n22; Saint-Benoît, 11, 12, 16, 45, 161n21; SaintCôme, 44 – 46, 160n18, 161n22, 161n25; Saint-Étienne-desGrès, 11, 161n21; Saint-Julienle-Pauvre, 11, 161n21; SaintNicolas-des-Champs, 9, 11, 66; Saint-Nicolas-duChardonnet, 44 – 46; SaintSéverin, 11, 45, 67– 68, 161n21; Saint-Sulpice, 45 Paris, colleges, 53– 80; Collège d’Autun (Collège du Cardinal Pierre Bertrand), 64, 66, 67, 69, 98, 121, 173n75; Collège de Bayeux, 66, 67, 69, 165n12; Collège de Boissy, 64, 66, 67, 70, 121, 170n52; Collège de Boncour, 66, 67, 70, 121, 165n12; Collège de Bourgogne, 15, 66, 69, 96, 121, 165n12; Collège de Cambrai (Collège des Trois Evêques), 64, 67, 69,

121, 165n12; Collège de Cluny, 15, 86, 122, 145n31, 146n36; Collège de Cornouaille, 66, 165n12, 167n30, 170n52; Collège de Dainville, 67, 70 – 71, 121; Collège de Dormans-Beauvais, 73, 121, 122– 23, 171n59, 171n62; Collège de Hubant (Collège de l’Ave Maria), 58– 65, 67, 121, 166n19, 171n61; Collège de Justice, 16, 66, 145n30; Collège de Laon, 68, 121, 171n62; Collège de la Sorbonne, 16, 71– 72, 98, 120; Collège de la Sorbonne chapel, 170n53; Collège de Maître Gervais, 66, 121, 145n30; Collège de Montaigu, 73– 74; Collège de Narbonne, 16, 165n12; Collège de Navarre, 47, 69, 94 – 95, 96, 121– 22; Collège de Presles, 68, 121; Collège de Saint-Honoré, 120; Collège de Saint-Thomasdu-Louvre (Collège de SaintNicolas-du-Louvre), 55, 96, 121, 165n12; Collège des BonsEnfants de Saint-Honoré, 55; Collège des Bons-Enfants de Saint-Victor, 55; Collège des Cholets, 67, 68, 120, 165n12; Collège des Dix-Huit, 55, 77; Collège de Tours, 64; Collège de Trésorier, 86, 128; Collège d’Harcourt, 69, 120; Collège du Cardinal Lemoine, 71– 72, 120; Collège du Plessis, 67, 69, 167n30 Philosophia, figure of. See Sophia, figure of Prayers for the Dead: refrigeria, 22; suffragia, 21

Index of Places and Subjects

Reims, cathedral of, 102 Rouen, cathedral of, 102, 105 seals, 41– 42, 100, 103–19, 121– 30 Sedes sapientiae, 112, 118 Senlis, cathedral of, 102 Sophia, figure of, 109, 112, 114 –19, 180n20 Tournai, cathedral of, 102 University of Paris: beadles, 39, 43, 50, 89– 90, 132; burse, 133; chaplaincies, 16 –17, 47, 134, 182n4; chests of the nations, 46 – 47, 162n32, 162n34; deans, 182n1; faculties, 107, 109–12; funerals, 8– 9; general financial

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collection, 133– 34; masterstudent relationship, 38, 139n9; mortality rate, 7– 8, 140n5; nations, 2– 4, 37– 51, 106 –12; nuntii, 89, 132; Parens scientiarum, letter of Gregory IX, 139n1, 152n34; patron saints, 42, 159n11; processions, 48, 59, 163n38; taxationes domorum, 83, 91, 164n8 Virgin Mary, 21, 39– 44, 100, 101– 30. See also Sedes sapientiae women, 81–100; carpenters and masons, 91– 92; education, 81– 88; medical practitioners, 84 – 85

william j. courtenay is the Charles Homer Haskins Professor Emeritus of Medieval History at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.