Inventories of Textiles – Textiles in Inventories: Studies on Late Medieval and Early Modern Material Culture [1 ed.] 9783737003926, 9783847103929

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Thomas Ertl / Barbara Karl (eds.)

Inventories of Textiles – Textiles in Inventories Studies on Late Medieval and Early Modern Material Culture

With 36 figures

V& R unipress Vienna University Press

Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available online: http://dnb.d-nb.de. ISBN 978-3-7370-0392-6 You can find alternative editions of this book and additional material on our website: www.v-r.de Publications of Vienna University Press are published by V& R unipress GmbH.  2017, V& R unipress GmbH, Robert-Bosch-Breite 6, 37079 Gçttingen, Germany / www.v-r.de All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher. Cover image: Page from pattern book (detail), Milan, 1628,  Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli.

Contents

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Thomas Ertl and Barbara Karl Introduction – Inventories of Textiles / Textiles in Inventories

. . . . . .

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Christiane Elster Inventories and Textiles of the Papal Treasury around the Year 1300: Concepts of Papal Representation in Written and Material Media . . . . .

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Thomas Ertl The Bishop of Freising Visits His Estates (1316–1320): Conrad III. Sendlinger and his Inventories . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Sarah-Grace Heller Revisiting the Inventories of Artois: Fashion, Status, and Taste at the Court of Mahaut, c. 1307–1310 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Lisa Monnas Reading English Royal Inventories: Furnishings and Clothing in the Inventory of King Henry V (r. 1413–1422) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Annemarie Stauffer A Purchase List from the Court of Charles the Bold from 1473 . . . . . . 111 Richard Stapleford Household Goods in the 1492 Inventory of the Estate of Lorenzo de’ Medici . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127

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Contents

Hedda Reindl-Kiel The Empire of Fabrics: The Range of Fabrics in the Gift Traffic of the Ottomans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143 Chiara Buss Half-tints in Italy in 1628: An Unusual Book of Samples from the Milan State Archives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 Burkhard Pöttler Clothing and Cloths in Styrian Probate Inventories of the Late 17th and 18th Centuries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201 John Jordan and Gabi Schopf Fictive Descriptions? Words, Textiles, and Inventories in Early Modern Switzerland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219 Index of Names . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239 Index of Places

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

Preface

In this collection of essays, the research on material culture and textiles and the discussion of historical questions and primary sources meet. This interdisciplinary approach is the result of the co-operation of the editors and the authors stemming from different academic backgrounds but all interested in the study of textiles and their use and consumption in the past. When the editors, an art historian at the MAK (Museum für angewandte Kunst/Gegenwartskunst) in Vienna and a historian at the Department of Economic and Social History at the University of Vienna, started exploring their shared interests in textiles, they soon discovered common challenges. At their invitation, the authors came to Vienna in March 2014 to attend a workshop in the sumptuous lecture hall at the MAK, an appropriate venue for the discussion of past textile splendour and its written documentation. This collection of essays bears the fruits of the inspiring and entertaining colloquium. We are very grateful that the presenters were willing to transform their presentations into accomplished essays. However, the editors relied on additional help to produce this volume. Our thanks go out to Christoph Thun-Hohenstein, director of the MAK, for allowing the workshop to take place in the MAK, and the DFG (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft), for partly financing the initiative. Last, not least we thank Katherine Schober, Robin Köhler and Korbinian Grünwald for their painstaking linguistic and editorial work. If there will be readers who study this volume as thoroughly as they did, we are confident that the significance of late-medieval and early-modern inventories for the study of textiles will spread rapidly and successfully. Thomas Ertl & Barbara Karl March 2016

Thomas Ertl and Barbara Karl

Introduction – Inventories of Textiles / Textiles in Inventories

Script was not invented to write epics – it was developed to keep things in order. Some of the earliest surviving written documents of humankind consist of different types of lists that facilitated administrative tasks on different levels, such as keeping records of cattle or of donations to temples.1 Since script has been in use, people have created written lists of names, words or other items, both in Europe and in other parts of the world. The form these lists took varied so greatly that distinguishing them from other forms of written documentation can be almost impossible and was also not what the scribes intended. As lists could be short and combined with other texts, they are at times indiscernible as separate forms of written expression. One particular list is the inventory. It may be defined as a detailed, itemised list, report or record of things in one’s possession, especially a periodic survey of all goods and materials in stock. Like lists in general, inventories have been made on a regular basis since antiquity in order to count, organise, categorise or describe people and things. This knowledge was documented for various purposes. For example, inventories made it possible to gain an overview and a basis for further courses of action. They are difficult to define as a genre and have much in common with other list-based enumerations, such as accounts. In terms of an inventory in pure form, the separate list of possessions could be designated as such. The distinction from gift registers, probate inventories or book lists, however, is often unclear. Other administrative sources, such as account books, are similar to the inventory or make use of inventory-like forms of record keeping. In this collection of essays, we therefore use a broad concept of the term inventory : our term always denotes a list-like enumeration, but not always separate lists of possessions. Inventories have existed in European history since antiquity. In accordance with the trends of written expression, only a few inventories survive from the early Middle Ages. However, their number steadily increases in the High Middle 1 Andrew Robinson, The Story of Writing: Alphabets, Hieroglyphs & Pictograms, London 2007.

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Ages and positively explodes in the late Middle Ages and early modern period with the increase in writing and a much higher chance of document survival.2 It is on this transitional period that the contributions of this volume focus. Church inventories are among the oldest and, since Late Antiquity, the most common types of surviving inventories.3 This is due to the material wealth of the churches and the literacy of the clergy. Since Late Antiquity, the popes had their treasures and gifts recorded in the Liber Pontificalis and thus incorporated inventories into the document.4 There have also been surviving inventories from cathedrals, parish churches and monasteries since the Carolingian era5 – both in the Latin West and in the Greek East.6 Church inventories remained important and well-examined sources up until the Reformation and beyond.7 In the course of the Middle Ages, these inventories not only increased in number, but also became more distinct. If lists of treasures were the most common in the High Middle Ages, then inventories were now made for different and more specific purposes, such as relic registers8 or gift registers.9 The property of prelates10 was 2 For a classical study on the increase in writing, see Michael T. Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record: England 1066–1307, Oxford 1998. 3 Pmile Lesne, Histoire de la propri8t8 eccl8siastique en France, vol. 3: L’inventaire de la propri8t8. Eglises et tr8sors des 8glises du commencement du VIIIe / la fin du XIe siHcle, Lille 1936; B8atrice Caseau, Objects in Churches: The Testimony of Inventories, in: Objects in Context, Objects in Use. Material Spatiality in Late Antiquity, ed. Luke Lavan, Leiden/Boston 2007, pp. 551–580. 4 Jean Adhémar, Le tr8sor d’argenterie donn8 par saint Didier aux 8glises d’Auxerre (VIIe siHcle), Revue arch8ologique, Ser. 6 4 (1934), pp. 44–54. 5 Carl I. Hammer, Country Churches, Clerical Inventories and the Carolingian Renaissance in Bavaria, in: Church history 49 (1980), pp. 5–17; Joseph Salvatore Ackley, Re-approaching the Western Medieval Church Treasury Inventory, c. 800–1250, Journal of Art Historiography 11 (2014), pp. 1–37. 6 Judith Waring, Literacies of Lists: Reading Byzantine Monastic Inventories, in: Literacy, Education and Manuscript Transmission in Byzantium and Beyond, ed. Catherine J. Holmes / Judith Waring, Leiden/Boston 2002, pp. 165–186. 7 Edward Foley, The Treasury of St.-Denis According to the Inventory of 1234, in: Revue b8n8dictine 105 (1995), pp. 167–199; Jacques Pycke (Ed.), L’inventaire du Tr8sor des chartes du Chapitre cath8dral de Tournai de 1422–1533 dit “Grand R8pertoire”, Tournai 2008; Elisabetta Scarton / Federico Vicario, Gli inventari della confraternita di Santa Maria dei Battuti di Cividale del Friuli, Nuova rivista storica 98 (2014), pp. 143–198. 8 Matthias Ludwig, Die Schätze einer Kirche. Reliquienverzeichnisse und Inventar der Zeitzer Stiftskirche St. Peter und Paul (1497 bis 1554), in: Handschriften und frühe Drucke aus der Zeitzer Stiftsbibliothek, ed. Frank-Joachim Stewing / Uwe John, Petersberg 2009, pp. 132–134; Patrick Fiska, Das älteste Reliquienverzeichnis von St. Stephan in Wien, Mitteilungen des Instituts für österreichische Geschichtsforschung 121 (2013), pp. 325–351. 9 Arthur L. Frothingham, Inventory of Gifts of Cardinal Francesco del Tebaldeschi in 1378 to the Basilica of San Pietro in Vaticano, The American Journal of Archaeology and of the History of the Fine Arts 4 (1888), pp. 328–330. 10 David Sanderson Chambers, A Renaissance Cardinal and his Wordly Goods. The Will and Inventory of Francesco Gonzaga, 1444–1483, London 1992.

Introduction – Inventories of Textiles / Textiles in Inventories

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inventoried as well, often in the course of making wills.11 Particular importance was accorded early on to the lists of library holdings, which were of significance for both the medieval church and for historical research.12 As inventorying became more common in the late Middle Ages, there was an increase in the inventories of lay people’s possessions as well, many of which still survive today. The inventories of royal and princely dynasties, with their possessions,13 their treasures, their jewellery14, their gifts15 or their wills16, topped the genre. For the first time, the entire furnishings of palaces and residences became tangible.17 However, the political elites were not the only ones who had their property inventoried; the lower nobility and the bourgeoisie did as well.18 Through the making of inventories for wills19 in particular, the material culture of the middle

11 Christopher M. Woolgar (Ed.), Testamentary Records of the English and Welsh Episcopate, 1200–1413: Wills, Executors’ Accounts and Inventories, and the Probate Process, London 2011. 12 Paul Oskar Kristeller / Sigrid Krämer (Ed.), Latin Manuscript Books Before 1600. A list of the Printed Catalogues and Unpublished Inventories of Extant Collections, Munich 1993; Carla Bozzolo / Ezio Ornato, Les inventaires m8di8vaux et leur exploitation quantitativ, in: Livres, lecteurs et bibliothHques de l’Italie m8dievale (IXe–XVe siHcles). Sources, textes et usages, ed. Giuseppe Lombardi, Paris 2001, pp. 165–177; Giovanni Fiesoli (Ed.), RICABIM: repertorio di inventari e cataloghi di biblioteche medievali dal secolo VI al 1520 = Repertory of Inventories and Catalogues of Medieval Libraries from the VIth Century to 1520. 2.2.: Italia: Piemonte, Valle d’Aosta, Liguria, Florence 2011. 13 Jenny Stratford (Ed.), The BedfordIinventories: the Wordly Goods of John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France, 1389–1435, London 1993; Danielle Gaborit-Chopin, Inventaire du tr8sor du dauphin, futur Charles V, 1363: les d8buts d’un grand collectionneur, Nogent-le-Roi 1996; Philippe Henwood, Les collections du tr8sor royal sous le rHgne de Charles VI (1380–1422): l’inventaire de 1400, Paris 2004; Maria Hayward / Philip Ward-Jackson, The Inventory of King Henry VIII.: Decorative Arts and Everyday Objects, Turnhout 2013. 14 Walter E. Rhodes (Ed.), The Inventory of the Jewels and Wardrobe of Queen Isabella (1307–8), The English Historical Review 12 (1897), pp. 517–521. 15 Benjamin Wild (Ed.), A Gift Inventory from the Reign of Henry III, The English Historical Review 125 (2010), pp. 529–569. 16 Marguerite Keane, Most Beautiful and Next Best: Value in the Collection of a Medieval Queen, Journal of Medieval History 34 (2008), pp. 360–373. 17 Maria Nadia Covini, L’inventario del palazzo milanese di Instano Sforza (1478), in: Squarci d’interni. Inventari per il Rinascimento milanese, ed. Edoardo Rossetti, Segrate 2012, pp. 47–70; Richard Stapleford (Ed.), Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home: the Inventory of the Palazzo Medici in 1492, University Park 2013. 18 Grenville G. Astill, An Early Inventory of a Leicestershire Knight, Midland History 2 (1974), pp. 274–283; Anton Schwob (Ed.), Zwei Inventare Oswalds von Wolkenstein als Dokumente adeliger Lebensführung im Spätmittelalter, in: Idem. / Ute Monika Schwob, Ausgewählte Studien zu Oswald von Wolkenstein, Innsbruck 2014, pp. 209–226. 19 Anton Schuurman (Ed.), Probate Inventories: Research Issues, Problems and Resultats, in: Probate Inventories: A New Source for the Historical Study of Wealth, Material Culture and Agricultural Development, ed. Idem. / Ad Van der Woude, Wageningen 1980, pp. 19–31; Micheline Baulant / Anton Schuurman / Paul Servais (Ed.), Inventaires aprHs-d8cHs

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and peasant social classes also became tangible.20 The inventories made it possible to reconstruct bourgeois and rural homes and households,21 to estimate the wealth of merchants22 or to become familiar with the individual property situation of people of different professions and of different ethnic backgrounds.23 Since the late Middle Ages, more and more sectors and items had been recorded numerically and documented in inventories, from the artillery of the city of Nantes24 to the property of a Sicilian cattle-breeder.25 Working with inventories does not only assist in the reconstruction of financial situations, but also addresses general historical questions such as consumer and dietary habits,26 ownership of art-

20 21

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ventes de meubles: apports / une histoire de la vie 8conomique et quotidienne, 14e–19e siHcle, Louvain-la-Neuve 1988. Alain Gallicé, Inventaires aprHs d8cHs d’un agriculteur (1392) et d’un repr8sentant de la moyenne noblesse (1563) du pays gu8randais, Annales de Bretagne 107/4 (2000), pp. 15–29. Jane Fenlon, Goods & Chattels: a Survey of Early Household Inventories in Ireland, Kilkenny 2003; Yvonne-H8lHne Le Maresquier-Kesteloot, La maison m8di8vale parisienne, espace de relations, d’aprHs les inventaires aprHs d8cHs, in: La maison, lieu de sociabilit8, dans des communaut8s urbaines europ8ennes, de l’Antiquit8 / nos jours colloque international de l’Universit8 Paris VII-Denis Diderot, 14–15 mai 2004, ed. Florence Gherchanoc, Paris 2006, pp. 73–86; Giuseppina Carla Romby / Maria Antonietta Rovida (Ed.), Qualit/ dell’abitare nelle citt/ toscane: libri di fabbrica, muramenti, inventari (sec. XV): Firenze – Siena, Florence 2012; Giuseppe Gardoni, Dentro le case. Una scheda sugli inventari rinascimentali, in: Residenze e patriziato a Mantova nel primo Rinascimento, ed. Giulio Girondi, Mantua 2014, pp. 195–200. FranÅoise Piponnier (Ed.), Cloth Merchants’ Inventories in Dijon in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, in: Cloth and Clothing in Medieval Europe. Essays in Memory of Professor E. M. Carus-Wilson, ed. Negley B Harte / Kenneth G. Ponting, London 1983, pp. 230–247. Helen M. Clifford (Ed.), The Inventory of Nicholas Herrick, Goldsmith: Life and Trade in Sixteenth-Century London, Apollo Ser. NS 147/431 (1998), pp. 19–24; Isa Lori Sanfilippo, Un giurista romano del XIV secolo e l’inventario dei suoi beni, in: Sit liber gratus, quem servulus est operatus. Studi in onore di Alessandro Pratesi per il suo 90 compleanno, ed. Paolo Cherubini / Giovanna Nicolaj, Vatican City 2012, pp. 711–726; Isabella Cecchini, II mondo a prestito. Oggetti in pegno al Ghetto da inventari veneziani tra Cinquecento e Seicento, in: In pegno: oggetti in transito tra valore d’uso e valore di scambio: secoli XIII–XX, ed. Mauro Carboni / Maria Giuseppina Muzzarelli, Bologna 2012, pp. 223–244. Aur8lien Armide, Les comptes et inventaires d’artillerie de la ville de Nantes (1457–1496), in: Artillerie et fortification 1200–1600, ed. Nicolas Prouteau / Emmanuel de Crouy-Chanel / Nicolas Faucherre, Rennes 2011, pp. 165–178. Henri Bresc, L’inventaire d’un 8leveur sicilien / Corleone en 1445, in: Idem, Una stagione in Sicilia, ed. Marcello Pacifico, Palermo 2010, pp. 703–720. Gerhard Jaritz, Spiritual Materiality or Material Spirituality. Cistercian Inventories of the Late Middle Ages, Medium Aevum Quotidianum 33 (1995), pp. 21–27; Hilary Arnold, The Kitchens of Medieval York – the Evidence of the Inventories, York historian 16 (1999), pp. 2–9; Teva Vidal, Comment vivait un chanoine au XVe siHcle? Ptude de l’inventaire aprHs d8cHs de Jacques Branlart, chanoine de Notre-Dame de Paris (1438), Memini. Travaux et documents 8 (2004), pp. 59–85.

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work,27 levels of devoutness28 and other questions of cultural science.29 All of these questions have been intensively discussed in research in the last two decades. However, scientific work with inventories is much older, going back to the 19th century. In the second half of this century, Europe witnessed a true wave of publications of medieval and early modern papal, imperial, royal and princely inventories or courtly accounts that are still studied and analysed by scholars of different disciplines and with different focuses today. Many of the documents published at that time are quoted in the articles of this volume. The importance of this incredibly rich documentary material can hardly be questioned and interest in it has constantly been growing. One of the editors of this volume participated in the special issue of the Journal of the History of Collections entitled Captured Objects: Inventories of Early Modern Collections, edited by Lia Markey and Jessica Keating in 2011.30 Since its formation, this journal has been instrumental for the study of the history of collecting. This issue in particular illustrated how inventories, as important witnesses of material culture, can be examined and studied from different angles today. This project does not stand alone; recent years have seen several research projects and conferences stressing the value of scholarly inventory research.31 The fact that the publication of entire stocks of early modern elite inventories has not fallen out of fashion is docu-

27 Susan Foister, Paintings and Other Works of Art in Sixteenth-Century English Inventories, in: The Burlington Magazine 123 (1981), pp. 273–282. 28 Marie-H8lHne Froeschlé-Chopard, Les inventaires de bibliothHques eccl8siastiques, t8moins de l’8volution intellectuelle et spirituelle des religieux, Revue d’histoire de l’8glise de France 86 (2000), pp. 493–512; Nicolas Pons, La d8votion du duc Jean de Berry d’aprHs ses inventaires mobiliers, in: Revue historique du Centre-Ouest 4 (2005), pp. 273–289. 29 Laura Wright, Bills, Accounts, Inventories: Everyday Trilingual Activities in the Business World of Later Medieval England, in: Multilingualism in Later Medieval Britain, ed. David A. Trotter, Cambridge 2000, pp. 149–156. 30 Lia Markey / Jessica Keating (Ed.), Captured Objects: Inventories of Early Modern Collections, Special issue of: Journal of the History of Collection 23/2 (2011). 31 Recent important projects include: The conference organised by the Courtauld Institute in London: Architectures of Knowledge: Objects and Inventories in the Pre-modern World [http://medievalartresearch.com/2014/05/07/conference-architectures-of-knowledge-objectsand-inventories-in-the-pre-modern-world-courtauld-institute-15th-may/ (consulted 6. 11. 2015)]; Reading the Inventory : The Possessions of the Portuguese Merchant-Banker Emanuel Ximines (1564–1632), a joint project of the Universität Bern and the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science, Berlin [http://ximenez.unibe.ch/ (consulted 4. 11. 2015)] and a large research project in CHAM/Universidade Nova de Lisboa: De todas as partes do mundo: O patrimjnio do 58 Duque de BraganÅa, D. Teodjsio I [http://www.cham.fcsh.unl.pt/teodosio/ (consulted 4. 11. 2015)]; PALATIUM: Court Residences as Places of Exchange in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe 1400–1700, also stressed the importance of inventory research [http://www.courtresidences.eu/index.php/home/ (consulted: 6. 11. 2015)].

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mented by the large multi-volume publication of the Spanish Habsburg royal family surrounding Charles V from 2010.32

Our Interest The topic of the present volume was inspired by recent research in the field. In light of the editors’ field research, medieval economic history and history of textiles, this collection of essays focuses on one important material that shows up continuously in medieval and early modern inventories: textiles. Textiles were among the most valuable property holdings of medieval churches and people.33 Their value exceeded that of books and was often only surpassed by liturgical objects and other items made of precious metal and stone. The lower the social class, the higher the proportion of textiles in their possessions; poor people often only owned the clothing that they wore. In the previous studies on medieval and early modern inventories, therefore, textiles always played a special role. This is true for inventories of churches and kings, as well as for inventories in the wills of the bourgeoisie or members of the lower class. According to the status of the person concerned, textiles appear in a variety of forms, colours and qualities in medieval and early modern inventories. However, the subject of textiles in inventories has not yet been explicitly examined. The authors of this collection of essays would like to take on this task, calling attention to the wealth of the inventories for textile history issues as well as discussing the particular challenges associated with the topic through their contributions. The essays look at inventories in the wider sense, including account lists from the late Middle Ages to the early modern period, ranging from Italy, France, England, Burgundy, the Ottoman Empire, Styria and Switzerland. The articles span a time period of about five centuries, illustrating not only the importance of the documents and the textiles listed in them but also discussing evolving consumption patterns, technological progress, expansion of geographic knowledge and social developments. From these studies, therefore, findings emerge relating both to textile history and to the history of inventories as a special form of written expression.

32 Fernando Checa Cremades, ed., Los inventarios de Carlos V y la familia imperial, 3 vols., Madrid 2010. 33 On the composition of medieval church treasury, see Anton von Euw, Liturgische Handschriften, Gewänder und Geräte, in: Ornamenta Ecclesiae: Kunst und Künstler der Romanik, vol. 1, ed. Anton Legner, Cologne 1985, pp. 385–414.

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Questioning the Inventories The inventories and account lists presented in the following studies were compiled on different occasions, mostly for administrative purposes in order to determine the value or control the whereabouts of a person’s or entity’s possessions. Most often, the compilers were clerks responsible for administrative tasks who acted on orders from their superiors. The nature of an inventory depended strongly on these clerks’ qualifications, time and diligence. They were usually written for a very restricted yet often professional readership. In the early and High Middle Ages in particular, the short descriptions fulfilled mnemonic purposes rather than being an autonomous description of the objects.34 Inventories existed both as parts of documents and as portfolios of parchment or paper as well as in book form, and they were more or less comprehensive. Prior to the 13th century, church treasure or book inventories were generally inserted into theological or liturgical manuscripts – often in the monastery’s most precious books.35 Inventories in book form were added both separately and together with other documents. The method of preserving these inventories therefore varied greatly. The chance of an inventory surviving was also very unevenly distributed: while a church or royal treasure register had good prospects of being stored, this was not the case for testamentary inventory lists that lost their value after the legal process was complete.36 In addition to answering many questions, inventories pose questions of their own as well. For instance, how objective and complete are the inventories? How objective and complete can they be? Many of the documents discussed only represent parts of belongings. Why are these inventories incomplete and what does that mean for its scholarly interpretation? Were only the items that had a certain minimum value recorded or were there other criteria for these choices? In many cases, the reasons can be explained, while at times they remain unanswered and raise new questions. The level of completeness, however, is only a part of the problem. Other problems include the detail and accuracy with which the items are described. After all, the scribes did not have historians of the future in mind when completing their work, but rather people of their present who had a different view of the material than we have now. Many terms and items, difficult to identify today, were familiar to these people and did not need to be discussed in more detail. Therefore, the descriptions often remain very short and vague, 34 Jennifer L. Kingsley, Picturing the Treasury : The Power of Objects and the Art of Memory in the Bernward Gospels, Gesta 50 (2011), pp. 19–39. 35 On the form and transmission of early and high medieval treasury inventories, see Ackley, Re-approaching Inventory (as n. 5), pp. 17–24. 36 Arnold Esch, Überlieferungs-Chance und Überlieferungs-Zufall als methodisches Problem des Historikers, Historische Zeitschrift 240 (1985), pp. 529–570.

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often more focused on the materiality of the objects rather than their form of figural imagery. Moreover, the question arises of the concrete reason for the creation of an inventory : was it created because of new acquisitions or the fear of impending losses?37 Was the inventory kept for peace of mind or was it simply the first step in entering those objects back into economic circulation?38 When analysing the inventory lists many centuries later, problems arise of which the pre-modern scribes could not have thought, problems whose very existence would have likely astonished them. As most of the items and textiles mentioned in the inventories no longer exist, the challenge of answering all or even some of the questions is especially great. The inventories are often our only source of information, and the material reality of the past must be reconstructed from the abstract written language. Due to the conventional brevity of the inventory and the semantically unstable use of descriptive terms, this is often difficult, to say the least. The following essays all grapple with these and other questions in various ways. The two papal inventories examined by Christiane Elster were written on two separate occasions, the election of Pope Boniface VII and the transfer of his belongings (or rather the part of the travelling papal treasury that accompanied his peripatetic life) to Avignon years after his death. In addition to reflecting a well-organised administration, the contents of the inventories also show the universal worldview of the owning institution. The papal inventory shows the pope as the leader of Christianity who outshines his flock with his treasures. The information on the provenance of the objects from the different parts of Christendom illustrates this claim well.39 Thomas Ertl discusses the inventories of the regional possessions of a lower but important German cleric, the Bishop of Freising, dating somewhat later from the early fourteenth century. They map out the vast and disperse territory over which he ruled and not only illustrate the itinerant way of life of medieval elites but also the clerics’ sacred as well as secular duties. In addition to that they illustrate this clerics’ understanding of the importance of good book keeping since he had organised many of his documents in a purposely assembled notebook. 37 Ackley, Re-approaching Inventory (as n. 5), pp. 7 s. 38 Lesne, Histoire (as n. 3), p. 5; Lucas Burkart, Das Verzeichnis als Schatz. Überlegungen zu einem “Inventarium Thesauri Romane Ecclesie” der Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Cod. Ottob. lat. 2516, fol. 126r–132r), Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 86 (2006), pp. 144–207. 39 On the growing medieval interest on regional identity and provenance, see Jonathan J. G. Alexander, Medieval art and modern nationalism, in: Medieval Art: Recent Perspectives. A Memorial Tribute to C.R. Dodwell, ed. Gale R. Owen-Crocker / Timothy Graham, Manchester 1998, pp. 206–223.

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The article by Sarah-Grace Heller shows a more restrained claim to splendour through the account lists of Countess Mahaut d’Artois. These lists were drawn up on a yearly basis in order to provide a control mechanism for the expenses of her court and enable an analysis of the accounts over a longer period of time. The study illustrates the interest in economical behaviour at royal courts in medieval Europe. Under the surface of conspicuous consumption, many princes and princesses were rational accountants who kept an eye on the costs of their royal household and promoted modern forms of bookkeeping.40 Account books were increasingly becoming the basis for the management of both the country and the court.41 One of the most common types of inventories were those drawn up after the death of a person in order to enable the valuation of his or her possessions, to pay debtors and to reorganise the belongings in the case of heirs.42 In her contribution, Lisa Monnas demonstrates what a complex process this could be when the person in question was King Henry Vof England. Apart from the fact that the kings’ belongings had to be listed in different places, the number and rank of the compilers, among them his debtors, was impressive, showing not only the status of the deceased but also his vast amount of debt. Due to the particularly well-kept records of the English royalty, this study is part of a well-established research tradition that, in addition to the well-researched King Henry VIII, also thoroughly analysed many other English kings and their possessions.43 Studies of this type form an important component of the overall display of the material foundations of medieval and early modern power.44 Lists such as inventories and accounts are important sources for understanding the structure and organisation of a courtly society.45 While this is shown in the case of the many accounts books surviving from the court of Mahaut d’Artois, it can also be seen in a single account list discussed by Annemarie Stauffer that documents the large amounts of money spent on textiles for the Burgundian court for the encounter between Emperor Frederick III and 40 Gerhard Fouquet / Jan Hirschbiegel / Werner Paravicini (Ed.), Hofwirtschaft. Ein ökonomischer Blick auf Hof und Residenz in Spätmittelalter und Früher Neuzeit, Ostfildern 2008. 41 Franz-Josef Arlinghaus, Account Books, in: Transforming the Medieval World. Uses of Pragmatic Literacy in the Middle Ages, ed. Idem / Marcus Ostermann / Oliver Plessow / Gudrun Tscherpel, Turnhout 2006, pp. 43–69. 42 Schuurman, Probate Inventories (as n. 19). 43 Hayward / Ward-Jackson, The Inventory of Henry VIII (as n. 13). 44 Sybille Schröder, Macht und Gabe: materielle Kultur am Hof Heinrichs II. von England, Husum 2004; Werner Paravicini (Ed.), Luxus und Integration. Materielle Hofkultur Westeuropas vom 12. bis zum 18. Jahrhundert, Munich 2010. 45 Mark Mersiowsky, Die Anfänge territorialer Rechnungslegung im deutschen Nordwesten. Spätmittelalterliche Rechnungen, Verwaltungspraxis, Hof und Territorium, Stuttgart 2000.

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Duke Charles the Bold of Burgundy.46 As portable goods, textiles were especially important for travelling monarchs in the late Middle Ages. Clothing, carpets and wall hangings were often taken along on journeys in order to establish “sovereign representation”when away in castles or in the field.47 The inventory of Lorenzo il Magnifico, laid out in detail by Richard Stapleford, once again demonstrates a probate inventory (or rather a copy of it) that determined the value of his possessions. It is the first inventory in the context of this volume that lists the belongings on a room-by-room basis, thus illustrating both the family structure as well as the more sedentary lifestyle the ruling classes adopted during that period. Richard Stapleford, a leading expert on the topic,48 shows the reader the full glory of the royal household in the Renaissance. In this, he is part of a well-established research discussion on the stately royal household and display of splendour in the late Middle Ages and early modern period. To a large extent, it is the preserved inventories that make these discussions possible. On the one hand, the costly features of the European courts of this time were a normal part of court society, while on the other, these features were a reason for the enormous debt of many rulers. The somewhat euphemistic term of “gift registers” was chosen by Ottoman administrators to designate treasury registers of dignitaries whose possessions were returned to the sultan after their death or after the confiscation of their possessions upon falling out of favour. Hedda Reindl-Kiel focuses on this type of inventory, which reflects courtly society to highlight the importance of textiles in the context of gift giving among the uppermost strata of Ottoman society. Historians discovered the usefulness of this kind of documentation in Islamic societies at a very early date. One early example is the “Book of Gifts and Rarities” (Kitab al-Hadaya wa al-Tuhaf), compiled in the eleventh century. It contains lists of different high-level gift exchanges and provides a glimpse into sultanate treasuries of the early Islamic period. The book was widely copied and quoted by medieval historians of the Islamic world.49 In all pre-modern societies, the exchange of diplomatic and other gifts was an important element of court culture.50 46 On the encounter of the two princes, see Hans Günther Langer, Vom Schmausen und Schachern: Herzog Karl der Kühne von Burgund und Kaiser Friedrich III. auf dem Trierer Fürstentag von 1473, Neues Trierisches Jahrbuch 50 (2010), pp. 209–217. 47 Thomas Ertl, Stoffspektakel. Zur Funktion von Kleidern und Textilien am spätmittelalterlichen Papsthof, Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 87 (2007), pp. 139–185. 48 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at home (as n. 19). 49 Ghada al-Hijjawi al-Qaddumi (Ed.), Book of Gifts and Rarities, Cambridg, MA 1996. 50 Anthony Cutler, Gifts and gift exchange as aspects of the Byzantine, Arab, and related economies, in: Idem, Image making in Byzantium, Sasanian Persia, and the early Muslim world images and cultures, Burlington 2008, pp. 247–278; Doris Behrens-Abouseif,

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Chiara Buss presents an exceptional inventory illustrating the precarious economic situation of an entire city, early seventeenth-century Milan. This inventory introduces the growing presence of the mercantile classes and their protectionist attitudes. This unique document includes the complete list of foreign silks on the market in the city, even including parts of the very objects it describes. Its aim was to provide a basis for enabling the ban of foreign silks from Milan’s market in order to protect home production. The study underlines the significance of the textile industry in the pre-modern economy – in no other area did city-states and rulers in the late Middle Ages try to intervene with such heavy regulations.51 In terms of tax revenue and customs duties, the textile industry had been part of the core sector of economic activity long before the Industrial Revolution, and the merchants and the political authorities were constantly aware of this. The Italian city-states, for example, had enacted economic-political laws since the late Middle Ages for the purpose of strengthening their own textile industry.52 The last two contributions illustrate how important quantity can be and the new challenges it poses. In his contribution, Burkhard Pöttler analyses approximately one thousand (mostly) probate inventories of the Styrian urban and rural population in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. This number illustrates the improved state of preservation of documentary material from this period as compared to medieval sources and enables the comparison of consumption patterns, household organisation, technological innovations and legal practices of the lower classes. As we can see, textiles are among the most important and at times the only possessions of this social class. The following contribution by John Jordan and Gabi Schopf also results from the study of many inventories, compiled in the context of the early modern consumer revolution illustrated by dissemination of a new material all over Europe, cotton.53 By complementing the study of seventeenth and eighteenth-century bankruptcy inventories of the Swiss Kanton of Berne with research on commercial correspondence, sumptuary laws and accounts, the article discusses sociolinguistic issues and illustrates the European-wide activities of a Swiss textile producer.

Practicing Diplomacy in the Mamluk Sultanate: Gifts and Material Culture in the Medieval Islamic World, London 2014; Bert De Munck, Artisans, Products and Gifts: Rethinking the History of Material Culture in Early Modern Europe, Past and Present 224 (2014), pp. 39–74. 51 John H. A. Munro, The symbiosis of towns and textiles: urban institutions and the changing fortunes of cloth manufacturing in the Low Countries and England, 1270–1570, Journal of early modern history 3 (1999), pp. 1–74. 52 Luca Molà, The silk industry of Renaissance Venice, Baltimore 2000. 53 Giorgio Riello, Cotton: The Fabric that Made the Modern World, Cambridge, MA 2013; Sven Beckert, Empire of Cotton: A New History of Global Capitalism, New York 2014.

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Textiles Inventories from the period in question contain an almost unimaginable variety of objects, ranging from the sacred to the profane, the common to the rare and the simple to the precious. This volume focuses on an important aspect present in an overwhelming number of inventories: textiles. Textile production was, after foodstuffs and bullion, the most important branch of pre-industrial economic production54 and is still a multi-billion dollar business today. Textiles’ importance and indispensability is reflected in the documents discussed in the articles, which include a wide range of textile types. These range from simple clothing, heavy royal tapestries for room furnishings, complexly-structured velvets and exotic gold-brocaded silks for vestments and plain weave cottons and coarse linen curtains that mostly belonged to commoners. The textiles mentioned in the different inventories follow the development of textile technologies, from weaving to dyeing, as well as the development of fashion and interior design. They illustrate social status, political claims, actual power, personal preferences, individual wealth and international connectivity. At its peak, hardly anything surpassed the sumptuousness of papal textile decorum. Gold-brocaded silks from Central Asia, embroideries from England and Cyprus and silk from Lucca not only reflected the situation of the most important production centres but also displayed the papal sphere of influence. The papal textiles also accentuated the papal claim to universal power. Almost modest in comparison look the inventories of the two following contributions. The first, the Bishop of Freising’s inventories, reveal that his regional palaces were quite modestly furnished and that he probably carried the more valuable textiles needed for representation with him from place to place. It is somewhat surprising that the largest quantity of textiles listed are related to war. The second contribution concerns the court of Mahaut d’Artois, one of the most influential women of her time, looks almost modest in comparison. Mahaut seasonally presented her retinue with new clothes that reflected their status within her court and illustrated her status vis / vis other rulers, which at the same time highlighted the existence and limitations of a developing fashion system. Another inventory, the probate inventory of Henry V, provides a window into the life of a king and offers a wealth of information on sumptuous palatial furnishings and the use and reuse of textile material. Pieces were included in the inventory that had been inherited from revered forefathers or sequestrated from former enemies. The materials mentioned range from silk to wool and linen, and 54 Angela Huang / Carsten Jahnke (Ed.), Textiles and the medieval economy: production, trade, and consumption of textiles, 8th–16th centuries: In memoriam John Munro (1938–2013), Oxford 2015.

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the value added to the entries provides insight into the worth, the composition and state of the textile objects. The most valuable pieces of clothing, however, were deemed so precious that they were stored together with jewellery. The importance of textiles could also be seen in courtly festivities, which could result in significant spending on clothing and material. For an imperial visit, Charles the Bold provided his entire court of about one thousand with new clothing; again the type and quality of fabric, as well as the quantity worn, reflected the position of the wearer in the courtly hierarchy.55 The surviving account lists different qualities of silk textiles, from gold-brocaded velvet to patterned silks, which were made into different garments.56 As the author of the article on Charles the Bold states, this list is unique due to the fact that it combines silk fabrics, information on dyes and cuts of garments with the actual names of the people who wore them. Another unique inventory is that of Lorenzo il Magnifico. According to this document, Lorenzo was much more passionate about antique stone objects and jewellery than about contemporary Florentine painting and sculpture, which makes up only about five per cent of the value of his estate. Approximately 13.5 % of the estimated value of his estate was assigned to textiles, which included clothing, fine household linens from different regions of Europe, bed furnishings and wall hangings. In addition to providing the value, the inventory also describes the furnishing textiles in great detail. Many of these depicted mythological scenes which reveal both the decorative and educational functions these textiles possessed. Gifting clothing or textiles for clothing to lower members of a court or to vassals was a custom at both Christian and Muslim courts in Europe.57 In the Ottoman context, the importance of textiles and their appearance in sixteenth and especially seventeenth-century inventories of high-ranking dignitaries reveals the social hierarchies of the time as well as illustrates the changing fashions, personal taste and evolving technologies in the textile industry. The high appreciation of foreign-produced textiles in the Ottoman Empire is also apparent in these inventories. Overall, these documents show the wide reach of the textile trade, which, alongside fast-developing home production, witnessed the influx of Italian silks during the sixteenth century and Indian and northern European woollens during the seventeenth centuries, thus illustrating the in-

55 See also: Susan Marti, Charles the Bold (1433–1477): Splendour of Burgundy, Brussels 2008. 56 The Abegg-Stiftung is currently preparing its catalogue of Renaissance velvets. See also: Lisa Monnas, Renaissance Velvets, London 2012. 57 On the nature of gifts in the Islamic world: Linda Komaroff (Ed.), Gifts of the Sultan: The Art of Giving at the Islamic Courts, New Haven 2011.

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creasing internationalisation of trade.58 The rich terminology used for the designation of textiles in the documents points to the large variety and constant introduction of new types of textiles. The problem of terminology for materials, techniques and qualities used in textile production is addressed in many of the contributions, including in the discussion of the Milanese textile book of samples from 1628. This fascinating document illustrates the evolvement of textile terminology and the quality of textile dyes as well as discusses the novel marketing strategies of the textile sector.59 As seen with the Styrian probate inventories, the complexity of terminology evidently increases when analysing high numbers of documents from different places and time periods that are written by different people. While princely inventories list textiles of high value and from distant places, these documents provide insight into the textile goods of much poorer households, where there is little silk and almost exclusively locally-produced linen and wool. However, the relation of these simpler households to the international textile trade is nevertheless present, seen here through the increasing appearance of cotton. Cotton takes centre stage in the last contribution, which explores the spread of printed cotton textiles as an important carrier of the consumer revolution in Switzerland.60 As none of the textiles described have survived (which is a common fate), terminology is once again an issue, as these written words remain the only proof of the existence of such meaningful objects. These words, however, often do not do justice to the nature of the original object, much to the chagrin of researchers today. The documents, albeit distinct, pose many comparable challenges, one of the most evident being that the objects they describe often no longer exist; they simply register a brief moment in time of the “social life” of the textiles listed. In most cases, their location before or after the inventory was written is unknown.61 Matching surviving textiles with written sources is very difficult and, in most cases, impossible. Ironically, however, a few pieces mentioned in the very oldest inventories studied here – those of Pope Boniface VIII – have been identified in Italian churches, which attests to the importance of their donor. In comparison, 58 Latest on Islamicate textiles: Louise Mackie, Symbols of Poser : Luxury Textiles from Islamic Lands, 7th to 21st Century, New Haven 2015. 59 On natural dyes: Dominique Cardon, Le monde des teintures naturelles, Paris 2003. 60 The term was mainly used for the situation in England, see: Beverley Lemire, Fashion’s Favourite: The Cotton Trade and the Consumer in Britain, 1660–1800, Oxford 1991. Maxine Berg / Helen Clifford (Ed.), Consumers and luxury : Consumer culture in Europe 1650–1850, Manchester 1999. 61 Arjun Appadurai (Ed.), The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective, Cambridge 1986.

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very little has survived from the textiles listed in the hundreds of inventories of commoners from the early modern period. Another common problem is the specificity of the descriptions in the documents. In this case, although the researcher is more often disappointed than not, the administrative objective of the inventories in question is to list and thus organise and secure one’s possessions. The different articles compiled here illustrate the fact that when analysed together with other types of documents, such as sumptuary laws and correspondences, these lists begin to provide more information. Examining the socio-economic context of the inventories’ geographic and chronologic surroundings can also be very helpful. In this volume, the link between the value of textiles and social hierarchies is made clear : the more expensive the textiles and the more valuable material given to a person, the higher his rank. This is true for the fourteenth-century court of Mahaut d’Artois, as well as for the court of Charles the Bold and the court of Ottoman sultans in the seventeenth century. While the gifting of valuable textiles to express one’s own authority was an intracultural affair, textiles also revealed private interests, such as those listed in the inventory of Henry V and Lorenzo il Magnifico. In conclusion, those who work with inventories must also work with textiles, and those who work with textiles in the time before 1800 will find it difficult to avoid using inventories as sources. This close relationship of lists in written form and textiles led to the formation of this volume. One result was an impressive multidisciplinarity that brought art historians, textile specialists and historians together. The collaboration in the research of textiles, fashion and material culture in the Middle Ages and early modern period is now based on a firm foundation.62 Sumptuary legislation and its implementation in late medieval and early modern European societies is only one field this collaboration has materialised in recent years.63 The textile specialists compared their technical findings from the originals with the written and visual sources of the time. The historians recognised the significance of the material culture as a whole as well as textiles and fashion in particular for the research of social, economic and politic issues.64 For the historical analysis, pictures and surviving textiles were con62 Regula Schorta / Rainer Christoph Schwinges (Ed.), Fashion and Clothing in Late Medieval Europe – Mode und Kleidung im Europa des späten Mittelalters, Basel 2010. 63 Diane Owen Hughes, Sumptuary Law and Social Relations in Renaissance Italy, in: The Italian Renaissance. The essential readings, ed. Paula Findlen / Duane Jeffrey Osheim, Malden 2002, pp. 124–150; Catherine Kovesi Killerby, Sumptuary law in Italy, 1200–1500, Oxford 2002; Maria Hayward, Rich Apparel. Clothing and the Law in Henry VIII’s England, Farnham 2009. 64 FranÅoise Piponnier, VÞture et parure en Bourgogne / la fin du moyen .ge d’aprHs les inventaires mobiliers, in: Le corps et sa parure. The Body and its Adornment, ed. Thalia

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sulted in addition to the written sources. The objective of our volume is to promote this collaboration of different disciplines in the exploration of textiles and of their key role in the material culture of the past.

Brero, Florence 2007, pp. 259–277; Jan Ulrich Keupp, Die Wahl des Gewandes: Mode, Macht und Möglichkeitssinn in Gesellschaft und Politik des Mittelalters, Ostfildern 2010.

Christiane Elster

Inventories and Textiles of the Papal Treasury around the Year 1300: Concepts of Papal Representation in Written and Material Media

Material discourse that articulates claims to universal political hegemony is a characteristic phenomenon in the exercise and representation of power – power both religious and secular, wielded in a full spectrum of cultures and periods and recognizable in a variety of media.1 This power is portrayed and legitimized by displays of access to material resources from wide-ranging geographic sources and to the highest levels of technique and craftsmanship. We see both natural and crafted artifacts used to form a grand collection and act as a microcosm, illustrating real or desired spheres of domination. To illustrate this point, we might look at Charlemagne’s ninth-century zoo in the gardens of Aachen or the collections of the Austrian Habsburgs, particularly the famous collections of Emperor Rudolf II (reigned 1576–1612). His collections not only included antiquities, contemporary sculptures and thousands of paintings, but also the works of art, scientific instruments and naturalia stored in his “Kunstkammer”.2 Textiles played a significant role as media of political representation for both the secular and the religious courtly culture around the year 1300. Princes and popes seemed to use the geographically diverse origins of the textiles employed in their demonstrations of power to communicate might and influence. The Roman church collected textiles with a vast range of provenance for the pontifical treasure, and these are documented in inventories. In this essay, I will

1 The research essentially comes from my dissertation on papal textile donations in the late Middle Ages, which focuses on the textile gifts of Pope Boniface VIII to Anagni Cathedral. See Christiane Elster, Die textilen Geschenke Papst Bonifaz’ VIII. (1294–1303) an die Kathedrale von Anagni – päpstliche Paramente des späten Mittelalters als Medien der Repräsentation, Gaben und Erinnerungsträger, Cologne University 2013 (Ph.D. diss.). I would like to thank Beatrice Kitzinger and Katherine Schober for editing this essay. 2 On Charlemagne’s zoological gardens in Aachen, see Horst Bredekamp, Der schwimmende Souverän. Karl der Große und die Bildpolitik des Körpers, Berlin 2014, pp. 51–54. On the Habsburg collections, see Thomas DaCosta Kaufmann, From Treasury to Museum: The Collections of the Austrian Habsburgs, in: The Cultures of Collecting, ed. Roger Cardinal / John Elsner, London 1994, pp. 137–154, here pp. 142–145.

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analyze two papal inventories dated from 1295 and 1311.3 I will investigate the question of how (and to what extent) the textile entries speak for the participation of material discourse in the universalizing political claims of the latethirteenth century papacy.4 In doing so, I will analyze inventories as a form of transmission for discourse and representation equal in weight to the surviving material record. The relationship between these two types of historical sources – inventories and material survivals – will be considered throughout the paper. As inventories represent a normative image of treasuries in a written medium, they do not necessarily need to exactly correspond to the real nature of their contents. A lack of specificity is typical for the form and language of medieval inventories. The lists usually present the objects in an abbreviated format based on knowledge that the community producing them already possessed. Moreover, inventories are distinguished by their simple and repetitive formal structure, which conveys the represented treasury’s quality as a group of related objects.5 These concise, well-arranged lists function as a particular form of organization of knowledge and play a significant role in the formation and transmission of the collection as a semantic unity.6 Central functions of inventory creation include the regular overview and piece-by-piece examination of the collection, the assessment of its economic 3 These are two very important example cases within a wider pool of sources that include other late thirteenth and early fourteenth-century inventories that arose within the papal curia, as well as the thirteenth-century cardinal wills. All these written sources will be examined in an essay by Maureen Miller, entitled “A Descriptive Language of Dominion? Curial Inventories, Clothing, and Papal Monarchy c. 1300” (forthcoming in the journal “Textile History”). 4 Maureen Miller addresses a similar question in the above-mentioned essay (footnote 3). I would like to warmly thank her for providing me with the manuscript. 5 See Lucas Burkart’s studies of medieval treasuries and inventories: Lucas Burkart, Das Blut der Märtyrer. Genese, Bedeutung und Funktion mittelalterlicher Schätze, Cologne / Weimar / Vienna 2009; Idem, Das Verzeichnis als Schatz. Überlegungen zu einem Inventarium Thesauri Romane Ecclesie der Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Cod. Ottob. lat. 2516, fol. 126r–132r), Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 86 (2006), pp. 144–207. See also Jennifer Kingsley, Picturing the Treasury : The Power of Objects and the Art of Memory in the Bernward Gospels, Gesta 50 (2011), pp. 19–39. In order to understand that the meaning of a collection of artifacts comprises more than the sum of its constituent objects, I refer to David Ganz and Felix Thürlemann’s research on plural image forms: David Ganz / Felix Thürlemann, Zur Einführung. Singular und Plural der Bilder, in: Das Bild im Plural. Mehrteilige Bildformen zwischen Mittelalter und Gegenwart, ed. Iidem, Berlin 2010, pp. 7–38; Felix Thürlemann, Mehr als ein Bild. Für eine Kunstgeschichte des hyperimage, Munich 2013. 6 These lists are normally written, but can be completed or substituted by painted lists (pictorial inventories). On the list as a cultural form and list-making as a classification method of concrete artifacts, see Umberto Eco, Die unendliche Liste, Munich 2009. The workshop “Architectures of Knowledge: Objects and Inventories in the Pre-modern World”, London, The Courtauld Institute of Art, 15. 05. 2014 (organized by Stefania Gerevini and Tom Nickson) explored the many ways in which inventories contributed to the production, organization and transmission of knowledge in the Middle Ages.

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value and the creation of a reliable method for finding the objects described.7 Additionally, however, inventories also function as media of representation and memory, consolidating the whole of a treasury’s content into a small and easily reviewed space. The artifacts and their record interact with one another ; it could even be said that the record of the treasury frames the objects in it. This can be concluded from the selective and inventive character of the inventories. In this framing, the treasury list contributes to the shaping of a community’s memory, history and identity.8

Introducing the Pontifical Treasury and its Documentation in the Inventories The pontifical treasury, known as the thesaurus sedis apostolice and documented by the papal inventories that we shall examine, was a treasure completely different from the pontifical treasure stored in the Sancta Sanctorum of the Lateran.9 It was an independent, mobile treasure that accompanied the pope and his 7 Lorenz Seelig, Historische Inventare. Geschichte – Formen – Funktionen, in: Sammlungsdokumentation. Geschichte – Wege – Beispiele, ed. Monika Dreykorn / Viktor Pröstler / Gertrud Rank, Munich / Berlin 2001, pp. 21–36; Thomas Ketelsen, Künstlerviten Inventare Kataloge. Drei Studien zur Geschichte der kunsthistorischen Praxis, Ammersbek b. Hamburg 1990, pp. 103–151. 8 On active roles of inventories and other types of written media in the development of specific identity-forming histories and memories that are attributed to objects and collections of objects in medieval church treasures, cf. the recent work of Philippe Cordez, Schatz, Gedächtnis, Wunder. Die Objekte der Kirchen im Mittelalter, Regensburg 2015, especially pp. 57–81. Jennifer Kingsley demonstrated the memorial function of written and painted treasury lists in her studies of Ottonian art. She focused on the close relationship of the physical treasuries with their written and pictorial documentation in liturgical manuscripts and inventories. According to Kingsley, the significance of a treasury is shaped by three types of records, namely the written record of the treasury, the pictorial record of the treasury and the mental record of the treasury. The last aspect refers to medieval mnemotechnics and commemorative practices connected to the formal and structural principles of the material record of the treasury. See Kingsley, Picturing the Treasury (as n. 5). Similarly, Stefania Gerevini explored the construction of knowledge and memory in medieval Venice, traceable in several types of written inventories and inventories in relief form. Stefania Gerevini, Inventorying Medieval Venice: Text and Image, presentation at the workshop “Architectures of Knowledge: Objects and Inventories in the Pre-modern World”, London, The Courtauld Institute of Art, 15. 05. 2014 [not printed]. Finally, I refer to Cynthia Hahn’s essay on the construction of imperial memory in the treasury of Quedlinburg: Cynthia Hahn, Relics and Reliquaries: The Construction of Imperial Memory and Meaning, with Particular Attention to Treasuries at Conques, Aachen, and Quedlinburg, in: Representing History, 900–1300: Art, Music, History, ed. Robert A. Maxwell, University Park, PA 2010, pp. 133–147. 9 This nucleus of the pontifical treasure contained some of the most precious relics of the Western Church and items that were believed to have originated in the donation of Constantine. Burkart, Blut der Märtyrer (as n. 5), pp. 82–124.

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court in his residences inside and outside of Rome.10 The items stored in the papal treasury were of highly varied nature and can be grouped according to the following types: money, the mobile items used in the papal liturgy and ceremonies (liturgical instruments and metal objects, textiles), relics and reliquaries, the papal library, which consisted of books and written documents, political insignia and trophies, including essential parts of the thrones of the Roman Emperor Constantine (reigned 306–337) and the Hohenstaufen Emperor Frederick II (reigned 1212–1250), rarities and scientific objects. The textile holdings of the treasury consisted of both liturgical textiles (clerical vestments and all types of textiles decorating the altar and the church interior) and textiles necessary for the popes’ ceremonial household. Thanks to the close relationship between secular and religious power in the papal office of the time, the liturgical textiles that served primarily as instruments of the Christian religion functioned as a means for the papacy’s political representation as well.11 The inventory of 1295 is the oldest surviving list of the thesaurus sedis apostolice.12 It was written in the year following the election of Pope Boniface 10 Burkart, Blut der Märtyrer (as n. 5), pp. 124–132. 11 Jan Keupp has illustrated the dual function of vestments of the Middle Ages that were used in the context of political representation. While they served as props in the formalized ceremonies, specific features of form and workmanship could also become reference points in political theatre. See Jan Keupp, Die Wahl des Gewandes. Mode, Macht und Möglichkeitssinn in Gesellschaft und Politik des Mittelalters, Ostfildern 2010, p. 150. 12 The inventory is in the Vatican Archives: Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Vatican City, Ind. 4 (=Arm. LVI, no 45). There is also a copy dating to the 17th century from the collection of Cardinal Giovanni Francesco Guidi (1578–1641), which is held in Paris: BibliothHque Nationale, Ms. Lat. 5180. It was the latter manuscript (and not the original one in the Vatican) that was edited by Pmile Molinier at the end of the 19th century : Pmile Molinier (Ed.), Inventaire du tr8sor du Saint SiHge sous Boniface VIII (1295), in: BibliothHque de l’Pcole des Chartres 43 (1882), pp. 19–310, 626–646; 45 (1884), pp. 31–57; 46 (1885), pp. 16–44; 47 (1886), pp. 646–667; 49 (1888), pp. 226–237. The edition by Molinier does not contain the manuscripts of the papal library, however, which were published by Franz Ehrle, Zur Geschichte des Schatzes, der Bibliothek und des Archivs der Päpste im vierzehnten Jahrhundert, Archiv für Literatur- und Kirchengeschichte des Mittelalters 1 (1885), pp. 1–48, 228–364, here pp. 24–41 and Maurice Faucon, La librairie des papes d’Avignon, sa formation, sa composition, ses catalogues (1316–1420), d’aprHs les registres de comptes et d’inventaires des Archives vaticanes, 2 vols, Paris 1886–1887. Regarding the history of the inventory’s transmission, see Pierre-Yves Le Pogam, Les inventaires du tr8sor pontifical entre la fin du XIIIe siHcle et le d8but du XIVe siHcle (1295, 1304, 1311). Pour une r88dition et une confrontation, Thesis: cahier d’histoire des collections 7 (2005), pp. 7–39, here pp. 9–12, 20–22, 25–26; Ehrle, Geschichte (as n. 12), pp. 21–23; see also Burkart, Blut der Märtyrer (as n. 5), pp. 124–132; Burkart, Verzeichnis als Schatz (as n. 5), pp. 164–166; Agostino Paravicini Bagliani, Bonifacio VIII, Turin 2003, pp. 85–86; Francesca Pomarici, Arti preziose a Roma al tempo di Bonifacio VIII, in: La storia dei giubilei, Vol. 1: 1300–1423, ed. Gloria Fossi, Rome 1997, pp. 256–269, here pp. 257–261; Marie-Madeleine Gauthier, Il tesoro di Bonifacio VIII, in: Roma Anno 1300. Atti della IV settimana di studi di storia dell’arte medievale dell’universit/ di Roma “La Sapienza” (19–24 maggio 1980), ed. Angiola Maria Romanini,

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VIII (1294–1303) on December 24, 1294.13 With over 2,100 entries, the inventory lists roughly 3,000 objects, including over 1,617 textiles and 500 books and manuscripts.14 The objects included in the entries are organized into 85 chapters, grouped by type and material.15 As the inventory did not register the holdings of the treasury according to a determined spatial scheme, its organization differs from the structure usually used in the “Kunstkammer” inventories of the early modern period. The way in which the inventory is organized demonstrates the fact that the papal treasury was a mobile arrangement of artifacts that lacked a determined form of spatial presentation.16 The last two chapters (Chapters 84 and 85) account, inter alia, for objects such as liturgical instruments and vestments that entered the treasury as gifts from Boniface VIII after his election. On several occasions, Boniface transferred items from his personal collection as cardinal into the thesaurus sedis apostolice.17 The systematic recording of the

13

14

15 16

17

Rome 1983, pp. 529–535. A critical edition of the original inventory in the Vatican Archives remains a research desideratum. The inventory is dated to 1295; there is no specific indication of the months during which it was written. There are different ideas among researchers regarding the context of its writing. Agostino Paravicini Bagliani suggested that the inventory was started in Naples, the location of Boniface VIII’s election (which took place on December 24, 1294), where the papal treasury had been transferred. Pierre-Yves Le Pogam localizes the writing of the inventory in the broader context of the papal curia’s reorganization after Celestine V’s (the predecessor of Boniface) abdication and localizes its origin to Rome in the period after the papal treasury’s return to the city after February 15, 1295. From its systematic structure, he concludes that there must have been extant papal inventories that served as a model for the inventory of 1295. Paravicini Bagliani, Bonifacio VIII (as n. 12), pp. 85–86; Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), pp. 9–12. Molinier’s edition, which does not include the manuscripts, contains 1,657 entries. The number of the manuscripts’ entries differs in the editions of Ehrle and Faucon. The first edition includes 443 entries, the latter 535 entries. According to Pierre-Yves Le Pogam, Ehrle’s edition deleted identical entries. Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), pp. 25–26. For the number of textile objects, see Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3), note 44. Chapters 1–41 include different kinds of metalworks (profane and liturgical instruments, relics stored in reliquaries, pontifical insignia and political trophies), Chapters 42–80 are dedicated to the textiles and Chapters 81–85 contain varia. Only during the papal exile in Avignon did the organization of the papal treasuries’ inventories change – due to the then-steady spatial relationship of the treasury to the papal palace in Avignon. Since 1358, a part of the treasury was organized according to its storage in the rooms of the papal palace. Hermann Hoberg (Ed.), Die Inventare des päpstlichen Schatzes in Avignon: 1314–1376, Vatican City 1944, pp. 359–541; see also Klaus Minges, Das Sammlungswesen der frühen Neuzeit. Kriterien der Ordnung und Spezialisierung, Muenster 1998, pp. 17–18. In Chapter 84, several donations to the treasury from Boniface VIII are mentioned, a part of which is dated. In February 1295, the newly-elected pope donated four precious metalworks to the treasury (no. 1524–1527). The donation took place in the castrum novum in Naples in the presence of the College of Cardinals. Another donation of liturgical manuscripts, metalworks and textiles is dated to 1298 (no. 1556–1577) and in July 1300, Boniface gifted a large

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treasury in the form of an inventory thus plays a particularly memorializing role in this instance, reflecting the gifting politics of the new pope at the very outset of his pontificate. The recording of the second inventory of the papal treasury discussed here (from 1311) took place in the context of Pope Clement V (1305–1314) planning to move the collection from Perugia to Avignon.18 After Boniface VIII’s death in October 1303, the treasury had been transferred to Perugia during the eightmonth pontificate of his successor Benedict XI (1303–1304). On behalf of Clement V, who had been residing in France since he was elected pope in 1305, the papal treasury’s holdings in Perugia were documented in an inventory made between February 27 and June 4, 1311.19 The transport of parts of the treasury to Avignon began in 1312, but failed in the end: the papal legate, Cardinal Gentile da Montefiore, died in Lucca during the enterprise, in October of 1312. There the papal treasury was looted by Ghibelline troops directed by Uguccione da Faggiola. Only very few artifacts of the treasury survived the looting.20 number of golden vessels (cupae de auro) to the treasury (no. 1578–1607). Additionally, a donation of liturgical textiles que idem dominus [Bonifatius VIII] habuerat precardinalatus (no. 1535–1546) is mentioned, as well as the donation of metalworks and textiles which had been given to Boniface as gifts from the English king (no. 1547–1552). Molinier, Inventaire (as n. 12), 1295 (1888), pp. 226–233. See also Burkart, Blut der Märtyrer (as n. 5), pp. 125–126. 18 Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Vatican City, Reg. Aven. 65, fols. 452–538. The inventory is edited in Inventarium thesauri ecclesiae Romanae apud Perusium asservati iussu Clementis Papae V factum anno MCCCXI, in: Regesti Clementis Papae V ex vaticanis archetypis sanctissimi domini nostri Leonis XIII Pontificis Maximi iussu et munificentia nunc primum editi cura et studio Monachorum Ordinis S. Benedicti, Appendices: Tomus I, Rome 1892, pp. 369–512. This edition does not meet the current scientific requirements – it lacks a sequential numbering of the entries and there is no keyword index. Therefore, a new critical edition of the inventory would be desirable. The part of the inventory on the papal library was edited by Franz Ehrle (Ed.), Historia bibliothecae Romanorum pontificum tum Bonifatianae tum Avenionensis, 2 vol., Rome 1890–1947. According to Pierre-Yves Le Pogam, the manuscript preserved in the Vatican Archives is not the original but a copy. Regarding the history of the inventory’s transmission, see Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), pp. 15–17, 23–24; Julian Gardner, The artistic patronage of Boniface VIII: The Perugian inventory of the papal treasure of 1311, Römisches Jahrbuch der Bibliotheca Hertziana 34 (2001/2002), pp. 71–85, here p. 71; Franz Ehrle, Inventar des päpstlichen Schatzes von Perugia aus dem Jahre 1311, Archiv für Literatur und Kirchengeschichte des Mittelalters 1 (1885), pp. 149–151; Karl Wenck, Über päpstliche Schatzverzeichnisse des 13. und 14. Jahrhunderts und ein Verzeichnis der päpstlichen Bibliothek vom Jahre 1311, Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung 6 (1885), pp. 270–286, here pp. 276–277. 19 Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), pp. 15–17. 20 In 1312, another part of the treasury was brought to Assisi, where it was stored in the Franciscan monastery and papal stronghold of San Francesco. But also these holdings of the papal treasury were looted by local Ghibellines in 1319/1320. Ehrle, Geschichte (as n. 12), pp. 228–238; Wenck, Päpstliche Schatzverzeichnisse (as n. 18), pp. 273–278; Gardner, The Artistic Patronage (as n. 18), p. 71; Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), pp. 17–20; Silvestro

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As a consequence, the inventory of 1311 offers a snapshot of the treasury at an unstable moment, a moment which ultimately would break up and significantly decrease its holdings. This inventory is not ordered as systematically as the register from 1295, but, interestingly, the document is distinguished by exceptionally detailed descriptions of the objects, which allows for quite a precise idea of the techniques, materials and iconography of the artifacts. This 1311 inventory contains 2,045 entries (“items”), including a total of 1,605 textile objects.21 The question of reception is unavoidable when investigating the textile holdings listed in the papal inventories. To whom were the papal inventories actually addressed? We may proceed on the basic assumption that the inventories were designed only for a very limited “public” within the papal court. Both inventories emphasize at the outset that the survey of the treasury was undertaken by orders of the pope.22 The inventory of 1311 additionally mentions by name the four papal officers given the task by Clement V. These comprise two masters of the treasury (thesaurarii), responsible for guarding the treasure in Perugia, and two clerics, sent to Perugia by the pope in order to write the inventory.23 The audience and purpose of composing either inventory is never explicitly mentioned. Since the transcription occurred at the beginning of a pontificate for the 1295 document and on the occasion of a risky transport of the Nessi, Il tesoro papale in Assisi, in: Arnolfo di Cambio. Una rinascit/ nell’Umbria medievale, ed. Vittoria Garibaldi / Bruno Toscano, Cinisello Balsamo 2005, pp. 61–69, here pp. 63–66. 21 Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), p.16; Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3). 22 Inventory of 1295: In nomine Domini, amen. Istud est inventarium de omnibus rebus inventis in thesauro Sedis Apostolice factum de mandato Sanctissimi Patris domini Bonifacii, pape octavi, sub anno Domini milesimo ducentesimo nonagesimo quinto, anno primo pontificates ipsius. Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1882) (as n. 12), p. 284. Inventory of 1311: In nomine domini Amen. Noverint universi quod nos Iacobus de Casalibus. Decanus Sancti Severini burdegalen. domini pape Capellanus, Petrus de Eugubio Camere ipsius domini pp. Clericus, Canonicus Laudunen. ecclesiarum, dicti domini pp. Thesaurarii, seu Custodes Thesauri Ecclesie Romane aput Perusium existentis, Vitalis de de (sic) Cabanaco Clericus et Guilielmus de Lua dicti domini pp. serviens, per ipsum dominum pp. missi aput Perusium pro dicto Thesauro. de bonis dicti Thesauri fecimus et fieri fecimus inventarium. Et die Sabbati, penultima die Februarii, Anno domini Millesimo CCCXI, incepimus facere ponderari et describi prout sequitur in hunc modum. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 369. 23 Pierre-Yves Le Pogam cites a document by the city council of Perugia dating to November 7, 1310, in which the four papal officers are already mentioned. It refers to Pope Clement V’s negotiations with the commune of Perugia regarding the transfer of the papal treasury to Assisi, via Siena. At that time, Iacobus de Casalibus and Petrus de Eugubio were already based in Perugia as masters of the treasury, while Vitalis de Cabanaco and Guilielmus de Lua, along with a certain Master Gregorio da Piacenza, formed a group of papal envoys who conducted the negotiations with Perugia. Archivio di Stato, Archivio del Comune di Perugia, Perugia, Riformanze, 14, c. 13v., edited in Nessi, Il tesoro papale (as n. 20), p. 68. See Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), p. 15.

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treasury in the case of the 1311 document, we may conclude that the inventories were personally examined by the popes and not limited to the purview of the thesaurii charged with surveying the holdings.24 According to Pierre-Yves Le Pogam, several contemporary copies of both inventories were circulating throughout the papal curia, directed to diverse groups of recipients: the pope himself, the masters of the treasury, the papal chamberlains and the College of Cardinals.25 In any case, the inventories were not broadly disseminated. They served for internal representation within the closest circle of the pope.

Aspects of Material Discourse in the Textile Entries of the Inventories In the following, I would like to discuss two aspects of the material discourse that could be related to papal claims to universal power. These feature prominently in the textile entries of the inventories. The first aspect comprises the often-used provenance notices that indicate the heterogeneity and diversity of the papal textiles; the second encompasses composite objects made from material of varying sources. The sense of diversity characterizing the ensemble as a whole plays out in microcosm within these discrete artifacts. These considerations are preliminary and of a hypothetical nature, since a systematic evaluation of the textile holdings in the two inventories has not yet been completed.

1.

The Repeated Notices of Provenance

The principal criteria for classification and description of the textiles in the 1295 and 1311 inventories are the type of the object, its color, material and techniques. Images and inscriptions are also sometimes included. Weight indications appear regularly in the entries of metal objects and rarely in the descriptions of the textiles.26 Measures of length can be found sporadically, such as in the chapter of 24 Similar considerations apply to a papal inventory from 1310 (Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Vatican City, Cod. Ottob. lat. 2516, fol. 126r–132r), which was examined by Lucas Burkart. According to him, the inventory was a “Dokument der Thesaurierung in unmittelbarer Nähe des Papstes”. See Burkart, Verzeichnis als Schatz (as n. 5), pp. 154–155. 25 The existence of several contemporary copies can be proven for the 1295 inventory : The inventory from 1311 mentions two copies of the 1295 register in the section where the papal library is documented. Ehrle, Historia bibliothecae (as n. 18), Vol. 1, p. 82, no. 488, p. 99, no. 630. See Le Pogam, Les inventaires (as n. 12), p. 17. 26 Weight specifications for textiles in Roman pounds and ounces (librae, onciae) only appear in the 1311 inventory, and there only at the beginning of the large section in which textiles are described. In particular, miters and loose orphreys are listed here (figii, aurifrigii). Then the

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the 1295 inventory listing complete and damaged orphreys (aurifrixia integra et frustra).27 The terms indicating the materials and manufacturing techniques are often completed by topographical adjectives referring to certain geographic regions, places or people as criteria for classifying the papal textiles, such as veneticus, lucanus, anglicanus, hispanicus, cyprense, tartaricus, etc.28 These provenance notices refer on the one hand to entire pieces and bolts of tissue in the papal treasury (panni), while, on the other hand, they refer to the decoration of those tissues executed in embroidered or woven patterns (opus).29 The terms include both European and non-European regions and illustrate the textile centers that supplied the papal court at the time.30 In the following paragraphs, I will present a selection of the provenance notices that can be found in the inventories. The written record will be compared to preserved textiles that were part of the papal treasury around 1300. Within the group of terms referring to Italian locations is the term panni lucani, which must refer to the patterned silks manufactured in Lucca. In addition to Venice and Genoa, Lucca was one of the northern Italian sites that developed a burgeoning silk industry in the second half of the 13th century, the products of which were traded throughout Europe.31 Both the inventories from 1295 and 1311 include a large number of papal textiles named as “panni lucani”, with armorial decoration. Their pattern is formed by the Caetani blazon (Pope Boniface VIII’s family) and by different papal insignia, such as the tiara or Peter’s keys:

27 28

29 30

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weight specifications suddenly stop. The inventory authors note that they had stopped weighing the objects on March 29, but do not explain why : Item die lune XXVIIII die mensis martii finitis ponderandis incepimus scribere alia que sunt scribenda. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 413. Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1886) (as n. 12), pp. 654–656, no. 1293–1348. According to Maureen Miller, 48 % of the textiles documented in the 1295 inventory and 49 % of the textiles in the 1311 inventory are indicated as coming from a specific place or region. The emphasis on the provenance was even stronger for vestments, especially for the liturgical overgarments: In the 1295 inventory, all the copes, 77 % of the chasubles and 84 % of the dalmatics are listed as being made of fabrics from specific locations or as having come from certain people. See Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3). For further reflections on the terms panni and opus, see Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 46–47, 121. The adjectives may be replaced by nouns attached directly to the relevant textile, such as tobaleae de Alamania and de Lombardia. See Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1885) (as n. 12), pp. 20–21, no. 830–837, pp. 658–659, no. 1378–1384; Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1886) (as n. 12), p. 660, no. 1401, 1403, 1404. Anne E. Wardwell, The stylistic development of 14th and 15th century Italian silk design, Aachener Kunstblätter 47 (1976/77), pp. 177–226; Brigitte Tietzel, Italienische Seidengewebe des 13., 14. und 15. Jahrhunderts, Cologne 1984, pp. 54–61; Leonie von Wilckens, Die textilen Künste. Von der Spätantike bis um 1500, Munich 1991, pp. 111–113.

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Item duodecim pannos lucanos pro cortinis […] laboratos ad compassus de auro. Et in medio aliquorum compassuum sunt corone sive mitre papales; et in aliis scuta de auro ad arma bonifaciana. […].32

Image 1.1. Textile fragment with the Caetani blazon and the Papal Tiara, 19 x 20 cm, silk, Lucca (?), late 13th century (?); Osimo (AN), Museo Diocesano. T Osimo, Museo Diocesano.

A fragment of a silk preserved in the Museo Diocesano of Osimo (Province of Ancona) and decorated with the Caetani coat of arms and the papal tiara likely originates from this group of panni lucani in the papal treasury (Image 1.1.)33, whereas the bier-cloth from Boniface VIII’s sarcophagus in St. Peter’s Basilica might be an imitation of such a pannus lucanus (Image 1.2.).34 The clearly papal 32 Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1886) (as n. 12), pp. 649–650, no. 1216, 1217; Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), pp. 422, 430, 433–441 (the quoted entry on p. 440). 33 No inventory number. The fragment measures 19 cm in height and 20 cm in length. Three of its borders are cut, only the selvedge on the left side is preserved. The object has not yet been published. Its provenance from the papal treasury of Boniface VIII is likely due to the relationship of the Bishop of Osimo, Giovanni Uguccione (1295–1320), with Boniface VIII. 34 Vatican City, Grotte Vaticane in St. Peter’s Basilica. Gerhart B. Ladner, Die Papstbildnisse des

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figurative language of the panni lucani suggests that they were commissioned directly by the papal court.35

Image 1.2. Tomb of Boniface VIII, Arnolfo di Cambio, c. 1296–1300; Rome/Vatican, St. Peter. T Joachim Poeschke, Die Skulptur des Mittelalters in Italien, vol. 2: Gotik, Munich 2000, pl. 78.

In terms of the European provenances, the opus anglicanum is mentioned frequently in both inventories.36 The documents from 1295 and 1311 each include Altertums und des Mittelalters, Vol. 2, Vatican City 1970, pp. 302–313, here p. 304, plates 71–72; Jörg Garms / Andrea Sommerlechner / Werner Telesko (Eds.), Die mittelalterlichen Grabmäler in Rom und im Latium vom 13. bis zum 15. Jahrhundert, Vol. 2: Die Monumentalgräber, Vienna 1994, pp. 136–145, cat. no. 44; Julian Gardner, The Roman Crucible. The Artistic Patronage of the Papacy 1198–1304, Munich 2013, pp. 128–131. The remains of Boniface VIII’s funerary monument are attributed to Arnolfo di Cambio and his workshop. 35 An entry in the account books of Boniface VIII for the 1299–1300 and 1302–1303 years of papacy also suggests a papal commission. Under the expenses for the papal treasury, this entry mentions the purchase of 16 hangings that were decorated with the Caetani coat of arms and the coats of arms of the French and English royal families: “Item thesaurariis pro expensis factis in thesauro de mense Octobris videlicet pro […] 16 pannis ad arma domini, ecclesie Romane, regum Francie et Anglie pro camera domini ponderis 195 lbr. minus una uncia et dimidia […].” Libri Rationum camerae Bonifatii papae VIII. Archivum Secretum Vaticanum, Collect. 446 necnon Intr. et ex. 5, ed. Tilmann Schmidt, Vatican City 1984, p. 190, no. 1444. 36 The central work on English medieval embroideries continues to be A. Grace I. Christie, English Medieval Embroidery. A Brief Survey of English Embroidery Dating from the Beginning of the Tenth Century until the end of the Fourteenth: Together with a Descriptive

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approximately 100 entries of items described as anglicani or made of opus anglicanum. There are both orphreys (called frixia or aurifrixia anglicana) attached to liturgical textiles made of tissue originating elsewhere and pieces consisting of opus anglicanum as a whole.37 An oft-cited passage from Matthew Paris’ Chronica Majora reports that as early as 1246, Pope Innocent IV (1243–1254) ordered precious orphreys in London and had them sent to the papal court.38 This is the first evidence illustrating the Roman popes’ desire for precious embroideries of English origin.39 However, liturgical vestments and orphreys of opus anglicanum did not only come to Rome on the orders of popes and cardinals; they also reached the papal curia as diplomatic gifts from English kings and bishops.40

37

38

39 40

Catalogue of the Surviving Examples, Oxford 1938. See also Odile Brel-Bordaz, Broderies d’ornements liturgiques XIIIe-XIVe siHcles, Paris 1982; Clare Browne / Glyn Davies e. a. (Ed.), English Medieval Embroidery. Opus Anglicanum, New Haven / London 2016. English embroideries in the papal Rome of the late 13th century are examined by Gardner, The Roman Crucible (as n. 34), pp. 209–217 and Thomas Ertl, Die Gier der Päpste nach englischen Stickereien. Zur Bedeutung und Verbreitung von Opus Anglicanum im späten Mittelalter, in: Reiche Bilder. Aspekte zur Produktion und Funktion von Stickereien im Spätmittelalter. Beiträge der internationalen Fachtagung des Deutschen Textilmuseums Krefeld und des Zentrums zur Erforschung antiker und mittelalterlicher Textilien an der Fachhochschule Köln (20.–21. November 2008), ed. Uta-Christiane Bergemann / Annemarie Stauffer, Regensburg 2010, pp. 97–114. The latter also includes a critical consideration of the term opus anglicanum and its use in art historical research. The inventory from 1295 includes 93 pieces with frixia or aurifrixia anglicana and 20 pieces of opus anglicanum as a whole (mostly liturgical vestments). The inventory from 1311 contains 85 items of opus anglicanum. See Nigel Morgan, Opus Anglicanum in the Papal Treasury, CIETA Bulletin 78 (2001), pp. 26–40, here pp. 29–33; Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 304–305. Eisdemque diebus [a. 1246] dominus Papa [Innocentius IV.] videns in aliquorum Anglicorum ornamentis ecclesiasticis, utpote in capis choralibus et infulis, aurifrisia concupiscibilia, interrogavit ubinam facta fuissent. Cui responsum est: ‘In Anglia’. At ipse: ‘Vere hortus noster deliciarum est Anglia. Vere puteus inexhaustus est; et ubi multa abundant, de multis multa possunt extorqueri’. Unde idem dominus Papa, concupiscentia illectus oculorum, literas suas bullatas sacras misit ad omnes fere Cisterciensis ordinis abbates in Anglia commorantes, quorum orationibus se nuper in capitulo Cisterciensi commendaverat, ut ipsi aurifrisia, ac si pro nihilo ipsa possent adquirere, mittere non differrent praeelecta ad planetas et capas suas chorales adornandas. Quod mercennariis Londoniae qui ea venalia habebant non displicuit, ad placitum vendentibus; unde multi manifestam avaritiam Romanae ecclesiae detestabantur. Matthaei Parisiensis, Chronica Majora, ed. Henry Richard Luard, Vol. 4: A.D. 1240 to A.D. 1247, London 1964 [reprint], pp. 546–547, quoted from Otto LehmannBrockhaus (Ed.), Lateinische Schriftquellen zur Kunst in England, Wales und Schottland vom Jahre 901 bis zum Jahre 1307, Vol. 3, Munich 1956, p. 378, no. 6517. See also Christie, English Medieval Embroidery (as n. 36), p. 2. As Nigel Morgan suggested, it is conceivable that the papal demand for English embroideries resulted in a commercial arrangement with London embroiderers and merchants in order to provide material on a regular basis. Morgan, Opus Anglicanum (as n. 37), p. 27. Christie, English Medieval Embroidery (as n. 36), p. 3; Brel-Bordaz, Broderies (as n. 36), p. 15; Donald King, Ricami Inglesi nell’Italia del Medioevo, in: Il piviale duecentesco di

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Image 1.3a. Cope depicting the life of the Virgin and of the Saints Margaret and Catherine of Alexandria, presented by Pius II (1458–1464) to the Cathedral of Pienza; Embroidery in silk and gold on linen, England, 2nd quarter 14th century ; Pienza, Museo Diocesano. T Tommaso Detti (ed.), La terra dei musei. Paesaggio Arte Storia del territorio senese, Siena 2006, p. 359.

The copes in the Pinacoteca Civica of Ascoli Piceno and in the Museo Diocesano of Pienza are examples of opus anglicanum embroidery in the papal treasury of the late 13th and early 14th century. The first piece with striking papal iconography was donated in 1288 by Pope Nicholas IV (1288–1292) to his hometown of Ascoli Piceno41, while the latter piece (with a cycle from the life of the Virgin and two female saints, Catherine and Margaret) was given to the Cathedral of Pienza in 1462 by Pope Pius II (1458–1464).42 (Image 1.3.) During the 14th century, the Pienza Cope is documented as having been part of the papal treasury in Avignon. It is likely that it was this cope that the English Queen Isabella († 1358, wife of Edward II) donated to Pope John XXII (1316–1334).43 The fact that this cope was Ascoli Piceno. Storia e restauro, ed. Rosalia Bonito Fanelli, Ascoli Piceno 1990, pp. 27–31, here p. 30; Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 48–49. 41 Pinacoteca Civica, Ascoli Piceno, inventory number 343. See Rosalia Bonito Fanelli (Ed.), Il piviale duecentesco di Ascoli Piceno. Storia e restauro, Ascoli Piceno 1990; Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 430–434, cat. no. 11. 42 Museo Diocesano, Pienza, no inventory number. See Laura Martini (Ed.), Il piviale di Pio II, Milan 2001; Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 438–444, cat. no. 13. 43 This can be concluded from a written source noting a prepayment made in 1317 by Isabella; the queen paid for an embroidered cope that she intended to send to Pope John XXII (1316–1334) as a gift. It was entrusted to a certain Rose, the wife of a citizen and merchant in London named John de Bureford: “On May 17, 1317, fifty marks, in part payment of a hundred, were given by Queen Isabella’s own hands to Rose, the wife of John de Bureford, citizen and merchant of London, for an embroidered cope for the choir, lately purchased from her to make a present to the Lord High Pontiff from the Queen.” Issues of the Exchequer : Being a Collection of Payments Made out of His Majesty’s Revenue, from King Henry III to King Henry VI Inclusive, ed. Frederick Devon, London 1837, p. 133. Regarding the identifi-

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part of the papal treasury during the fourteenth century is confirmed by an entry in the inventory of the treasury in Avignon from 1369. Since the cope is mentioned as opus Anglie and its material and iconographic characteristics (including the orphrey embroidered with different birds) are described in detail, it is beyond doubt that the entry refers to the cope preserved in Pienza today.44

Image 1.3b. St. Catherine is imprisoned, Detail of the Pienza Cope. T Clare Browne / Glyn Davies e. a. (Ed.), English Medieval Embroidery. Opus Anglicanum, New Haven / London 2016, p. 204.

A large number of gold-embroidered red and white vestments are described as opus cyprense in the papal inventories from 1295 and 1311. A group of surviving cation of the cope mentioned in the prepayment with the Pienza cope, see Martini, Il piviale (as n. 42), pp. 18–19; May Morris, Opus Anglicanum III – The Pienza Cope, The Burlington Magazine, 7 (1905), pp. 54–65, here p. 60, no. 15. The Pienza vestment is one of the four documented copes donated to Pope John XXII by English royalty and English bishops. 44 Item aliud pluviale cum diversis ymaginibus et laqueis de perlis per totum auro contextum de opere Anglie, cuius aurifrizium est cum laqueis perlarum, cum diversis avium ymaginibus in capicio operato perlis et lapidibus, subtus est coronacio, deinde nativitas, in circumferencia vero ultima est passio beatarum Katherine et Margarete virginum et Safre, ultimus est operatus de perlis, foderatus de sindone rubea. Hoberg, Inventare 1314–1376 (as n. 16), p. 423; see also Martini, Il piviale (as n. 42), p. 15.

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textiles in the cathedral treasury of Anagni can be securely identified with these entries. The vestments – a cope, a chasuble and two dalmatics – consist of a red fabric of samite (weft-faced compound twill) covered with gold embroidery.45 This group of textiles comes from Boniface VIII’s gifts to Anagni and can be identified based on the detailed motif descriptions in the entries of the 1311 inventory.46 The embroidered textiles are noteworthy due to their imitation of patterns typical for silk weaving: heraldic animal motifs of doubled eagles, pairs of parrots and griffins are worked over the full surface in circular medallions decorated with vegetation (Image 1.4.): Item aliud pluviale pulcrum de samito rubeo de opere cipri, laboratum ad magnos compassus rotundos cum duobus circulis de auro et serico, et inter ipsos circulos sunt vites et folia de auro filato, et in medio aliquorum compassuum sunt grifones, et in aliquibus aliis sunt papagalli duplices et in aliis aquile cum duplice capite. Et inter dictos compassus sunt alii minores compassus cum quatuor foliis, que folia habent lilium in capite.47

The provenance of these “Cyprian-manner” vestments remains unclear. Otto von Falke’s early proposal of a Cyprian origin was quickly rejected in the literature, but has recently been reconsidered by David Jacoby.48 Most scholars either localize the vestments to Byzantium49 or ascribe the embroidery to the royal 45 Marina Righetti Tosti-Croce (Ed.), Bonifacio VIII e il suo tempo. Anno 1300 il primo giubileo, Milan 2000, p. 240, cat. no. 1. The chasuble and the two dalmatics come from another cope, or more precisely a bell-chasuble, which was cut off in the late 16th century and reworked into a complete set of episcopal vestments. See Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 227–230. 46 The inventory of 1295 describes three copes, as well as one damaged cope, five fragments that probably once belonged to copes and one chasuble made of this fabric. Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1885) (as n. 12), pp. 25–26, 29–30, nos. 890–895, 945. The inventory of 1311 lists three intact copes, one damaged cope and two other fragments from the cloth. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), pp. 419, 420, 427. 47 Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 419. 48 Otto von Falke, Kunstgeschichte der Seidenweberei, Vol. 2, Berlin 1913, pp. 21–22; David Jacoby, Cypriot Gold Thread in Late Medieval Silk Weaving and Embroidery, in: Deeds Done Beyond the Sea. Essays on William of Tyre, Cyprus and the Military Orders presented to Peter Edbury, ed. Susan B. Edgington / Helen J. Nicholson, Farnham 2014, pp. 101–114, here pp. 108–109. Medieval embroidery on Cyprus is largely unexplored. Since comparable Cyprian embroideries are not preserved, there is no reference corpus. The only known Cyprian embroideries from the 13th century, namely the Grandson Antependium in Bern, Historisches Museum, another antependium with the coronation of the Virgin in Pisa, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, and an additional embroidery with the enthroned Virgin on a small square of samite in Lyon, Tr8sor de la Cath8drale Saint-Jean, are not comparable with the liturgical textiles of opus cyprense from the papal treasury. Jannic Durand / Dorota Giovannoni (Ed.), Chypre entre Byzance et l’Occident IVe-XVIe siHcle, Paris 2012, pp. 266–272; Michele Bacci, Tra Pisa e Cipro: La committenza artistica di Giovanni Conti († 1332), Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa V.2 (2000), pp. 343–386, here pp. 343–352, 373–374. 49 Pomarici, Arti preziose (as n. 12), pp. 260–262; Righetti Tosti-Croce, Bonifacio VIII (as

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Image 1.4. Detail of a cope with double-headed eagles, griffons and parrots in medallions, presented by Boniface VIII (1294–1303) to the Cathedral of Anagni; Embroidery in silk and gold on samite, Cyprus or Sicily (?), 2nd quarter 13th century (?); Anagni, Museo del Tesoro della Cattedrale. T Bibliotheca Hertziana, Fotothek (Alessandro Jazeolla).

n. 45), p. 240, cat. no. 1. The attribution to Byzantium is based on stylistic analysis. It argues that the gold embroideries imitate silk fabrics showing animals in medallions that were produced in the imperial workshops of the Byzantine Empire in Constantinople. Warren Woodfin, however, convincingly revised the arguments supporting the embroidered vestments’ attribution to Byzantium. According to Woodfin, the imitation of secular motifs appearing on older Byzantine and eastern silk fabrics is a typical feature of western medieval embroideries. Preserved Byzantine liturgical embroideries, on the other hand, show exclusively motifs of Christian iconography. Moreover, in Byzantium, embroideries usually appeared on the smaller parts of the liturgical vestments only. In the Latin West, however, embroideries normally decorated the entire surface of the liturgical upper garments, especially copes, chasubles and dalmatics. See Warren Theriot Woodfin, Late Byzantine Liturgical Vestments and the Iconography of Sacerdotal Power, University of Illinois 2002 (Ph.D. diss.), pp. 113–144. Furthermore, the type of the embroidered vestments (semicircular copes whose motifs are turned 90 degrees along the 45 degrees lines of the vestment in order to make them readable when the garment is worn) is a thoroughly western one. Neither the court dress of Byzantium nor the liturgical vestments of the Orthodox Rite were familiar with garments of a similar form and design. Ibid., pp. 182–198.

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workshops of the Norman-Hohenstaufen Kingdom at the court of Palermo.50 These proposals, however, do not adequately account for the artifacts. The current state of research allows for the identification of the gold embroidered red vestments as western products consciously imitating precious silk fabrics from Byzantium.51 Their exact origin, however, remains unclear – in my opinion, further research should revisit the question of a Cyprian origin on the basis of the terminology of the inventory authors.52 Textiles of obvious Byzantine origin were designated panni de Romania in the inventories. These entries refer to silk weavings with patterns of animals in medallions.53 One entry very explicitly names an imperial Byzantine swath (pannus imperialis de Romania), which was patterned with double eagles and

50 However, both the datable reference corpus and the written sources mentioning the workshops only cover the period from 1133/34 to 1220. There is no comparable material of embroideries that can be clearly attributed to Palermo in the second quarter of the 13th century, the period in which the liturgical vestments in opus cyprense are dated. During the 1970s, Ruth Grönwoldt studied the embroidered material that might be attributed to the circle of the royal court workshops of Palermo. Her description of the “palermitanische Brokatstickerei” is the basis for an exclusively stylistic attribution of a group of embroideries from the second quarter of the 13th century to this production context – a tendency that has dominated research through today. Ruth Grönwoldt, Miszellen zur Textilkunst der Stauferzeit, in: Die Zeit der Staufer. Geschichte – Kunst – Kultur, ed. Reiner Haussherr / Christian Väterlein, Vol. 5: Supplement: Vorträge und Forschungen, Stuttgart 1979, pp. 389–418, here pp. 393–405. For the current state of research, see Wilfried Seipel (Ed.), Nobiles Officinae. Die königlichen Hofwerkstätten zu Palermo zur Zeit der Normannen und Staufer im 12. und 13. Jahrhundert, Milan 2004. Recently, Elke Michler called attention back to the open questions raised by the embroidery production of the late Hohenstaufen period attributed to the royal court workshops of Palermo. Elke Michler, Neue Forschungen zur sogenannten Chape de Charlemagne – Bestand, Veränderungen, Schadensbilder und Konservierung, in: Textile Kostbarkeiten staufischer Herrscher. Werkstätten – Bilder – Funktionen, ed. Imgard Siede / Annemarie Stauffer, Petersberg 2014, pp. 44–59, here p. 57. 51 According to Annemarie Stauffer, in the medieval Latin West, stylized animal or figural motives inserted into circular medallions were well understood as a pictorial sign indicating precious and luxury Byzantine silks. These were known because they reached the West in very small quantities as diplomatic gifts (see below, note 56). The imitation of such silk patterns in the technique of embroidery seems to have been common in the medieval West and demonstrates the high esteem and appreciation of imperial Byzantine silks. Additional preserved examples of such embroideries can be found in the treasury of Bamberg Cathedral, including the Tunika of the Empress Kunigunde and the “Reitermantel” of Emperor Henry II. Annemarie Stauffer, Seide aus Byzanz im Westen, in: Seide im früh- und hochmittelalterlichen Frauenstift. Besitz – Bedeutung – Umnutzung, ed. Thomas Schilp / Annemarie Stauffer, Essen 2013, pp. 9–23, here pp. 14–16. 52 For a detailed explanation and discussion of these questions, see Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 232–250. 53 In the inventory of 1295, many silk fabrics of Byzantine origin appear in the chapters panni de Romania and xamita. Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1886) (as n. 12), pp. 647–648, no. 1181–1195.

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served as the base fabric for a dalmatic. This swath was additionally adorned with orphreys of English embroideries and Venetian weavings: Item, dalmaticam rubeam de panno imperiali de Romania ad aquilas magnas cum duobus capitibus sine ornamentis; [in] manicis tamen habet frixia anglicana antiqua et in spatulis de Venetiis.54

Clearly, the inventory author was not only aware of the Byzantine provenance of this fabric, but also its “rank” as a piece from the imperial court. We can posit that the luxury silk was produced in the imperial workshops located at the imperial court in Constantinople.55 It is likely that it reached the Roman Church as a diplomatic gift of the Byzantine Emperor.56 We can suppose that the reworking of such imperial fabrics into liturgical garments took place in Rome in the workshops of the papal court.57 These fabrics allowed the late medieval popes to imitate and adapt Byzantine court culture.58 Within the group of non-European textiles mentioned in the papal inventories are the panni tartarici, fabrics of oriental origin, the greater part of which may 54 Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1885) (as n. 12), p. 30, no. 959. 55 In the Byzantine Empire, silk fabrics were a symbol of might referring to the imperial court from the 4th to the 12th century. Society at the Byzantine court was characterized by set hierarchies of silk vestments. Written and pictorial sources indicate stylized animal figures decorating the court dress of the emperor’s family and officials during the Middle Byzantine Era. Since the 12th century, such motifs have also been reported for the emperor’s robes and regalia. Stauffer, Seide aus Byzanz (as n. 51), pp. 10–12; Adele La Barre Starensier, An Art Historical Study of the Byzantine Silk Industry, Columbia University 1982 (Ph.D. diss.), pp. 181–243, 456–464, 480–495; Anna Muthesius, Studies in Byzantine and Islamic Silk Weaving, London 1995, pp. 231–233. 56 The imperial silks produced in the imperial workshops in Constantinople served exclusively for the internal use of the Byzantine court. Their exclusive availability for the imperial court was guaranteed by strict restrictions on distribution, such as export bans and interdictions of commerce. Therefore, these silks could only reach the Christian Occident as diplomatic gifts from the Byzantine emperor. Consequently, in the West they were perceived as visual references to the Byzantine empire and as artifacts proving the superiority of the Byzantine culture to the Christian Occident. Franz Alto Bauer, Byzantinische Geschenkdiplomatie, in: Byzanz – Das Römerreich im Mittelalter, Teil 3: Peripherie und Nachbarschaft, ed. Falko Daim / Jörg Drauschke, Regensburg, pp. 1–55, here pp. 22–23; Stauffer, Seide aus Byzanz (as n. 51), pp. 17–18; La Barre Starensier, An Art Historical Study of the Byzantine Silk Industry (as n. 55), pp. 183, 243–279, 465–493. 57 Interestingly, it is the papal inventories that document the practice of reworking untailored fabrics and orphreys of diverse provenances into liturgical garments – this likely took place in workshops at the papal court. Several entries in the inventory from 1311 refer to tissues qui non fuerunt in opera. The following section, for instance, describes a fabric in opus cyprense that is meant to serve as a base fabric for a cope or a chasuble: Item unum pannum novum de samito rubeo pulcrum, qui non fuit in opera, de quo potest fieri pluviale sive planeta, de opere ciprensi, laboratum de auro tractitio ad magnos et parvos compassus […]. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 419; additional examples Ibid., pp. 413–414, 417. 58 Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 56–57.

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have been produced in the Mongol Empire (1272–1368).59 The 1311 inventory includes more than 100 Tartaric fabrics. In addition to the papal inventories from 1295 and 1311, many church inventories from the late Middle Ages also refer to such Mongol fabrics made of silk and gold, attesting to the fact that they had been widely disseminated in Europe since the end of the 13th century. These golden tissues are characterized by hybrid stylistic and technical features that combine the different traditions of weaving in the regions conquered by the Mongols during the 13th century, which extended from Persia to Central Asia to China. Usually, these tissues would have been reworked into liturgical textiles and garments in the West for use in the ceremonies of Christian liturgy. Because tartaricus meant the Mongol Empire in general, in most cases it is not possible to know if a textile’s origin was Middle Eastern, Central Asian or Chinese. Interestingly enough, one entry of the 1295 inventory makes a distinction between Tartar and Chinese textiles: Item, sex pannos tartaricos quasi nigros, computato uno quod est cinericeus, ad flores et folia et bestias ad aurum; et sunt omnes foderati de tela endici [coloris] preter unum et sunt omnes quasi recentes.60

The base fabrics of two liturgical vestments (a dalmatic and a cope) that were donated to San Domenico in Perugia by Pope Benedict XI (1303–1304) consist of similar types of a white, gold-brocaded lampas, whose origins in the Mongol Empire have been proven (Image 1.5a.).61 59 The central study on the panni tartarici is Anne E. Wardwell, Panni tartarici: Eastern Islamic Silks Woven with Gold and Silver (13th and 14th Centuries), Islamic Art 3 (1988/89), pp. 95–173. See also von Wilckens, Die textilen Künste (as n. 31), pp. 113–120; Juliane von Fircks, Aus dem Königreich der Tartaren. Orientalische Luxusgewebe im hansestädtischen Kontext, in: Dortmund und die Hanse: Fernhandel und Kulturtransfer, ed. Barbara Welzel / Thomas Schilp, Bielefeld 2012, pp. 139–163; Eadem, Liturgische Gewänder des Mittelalters aus St. Nikolai in Stralsund, Riggisberg 2008, pp. 51–61; Maria Ludovica Rosati, Migrazioni tecnologiche e interazioni culturali. La diffusione dei tessuti orientali nell’Europa del XIII e del XIV secolo, OADI – Rivista dell’Osservatorio per le Arti Decorative in Italia 1 (2010), pp. 58–88. 60 Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1885) (as n. 12), p. 43, no. 1144; see also Ibid., p. 41, no. 1109 and Ibid. (1886), p. 652, no. 1264; Wardwell, Panni tartarici (as n. 59), pp. 134–135. 61 Maria Ludovica Rosati, “‘De Opere Curioso Minuto’ The Vestments of Benedict XI in Perugia and the Fourteenth-Century Perception of ‘Panni Tartarici’”, Oriental Silks in Medieval Europe, ed. Juliane von Fircks and Regula Schorta (Riggisberger Berichte 21), Riggisberg 2016, pp. 173–183; Rosati, Migrazioni tecnologiche (as n. 59), pp. 66–68; Ettore Napione, La propaganda artistica domenicana: committenze e iconografie di un papa da inventare, in: Benedetto XI frate Predicatore e Papa, ed. Marina Benedetti, Milan 2007, pp. 147–188, here pp. 161–168; Maria Luciana Buseghin, Le vesti liturgiche di Benedetto XI, uomo di pace: un simbolo del sincretismo tra Oriente e Occidente, in: La Basilica di San Domenico di Perugia, ed. Giuseppe Rocchi / Giulio Ser-Giacomi, Perugia 2006, pp. 371–382; Eadem, I parati di Benedetto XI conservati nella chiesa di San Domenico a Perugia: studi e ricerche, in: Benedetto XI papa domenicano (1240–1304), ed. Alberto Viganò, Florence 2006, pp. 151–186.

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Image 1.5a. Dalmatic, presented by Benedict XI (1303–1304) to San Domenico in Perugia; White fabric: gold-brocaded lampas, Central Asia, 2nd half 13th/early 14th century ; Blue silk fabric from Lucca, c. 1350; Perugia, San Domenico, Sacristy. T Giuseppe Rocchi/Giulio Ser-Giacomi (Ed.), La Basilica di San Domenico di Perugia, Perugia 2006, p. 374, image 4.

The provenance notices do more than represent an important instrument of classification within the individual entries of the papal inventories. In the inventory of 1295, these notices also provide an overarching principle of order. The 85 chapters of the inventory are organized by type and material groups. Provenance notices join color and vestment type to help with the division of the textiles mentioned in Chapters 42–80. While the tailored vestments are listed according to type and color in Chapters 42–61, the loose, untailored pieces and bolts (panni) are presented according to their origin in Chapters 62–69. Chap-

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ter 62 is titled panni tartarici, Chapter 64 Panni de Romania, Chapter 66 Panni Hispanici and Chapter 67 Panni Lucani. In Chapter 74, there are cortine et tobale de Alamania et alie tobale serice ad diversa laboreria et tele Remenses et Pisane.62 The question remains as to whether these terms referring to certain geographic regions and locations should be interpreted as indications of provenance in a strict sense or whether they should be seen as termini tecnici indicating certain typical manufacturing techniques and material features. It is conceivable that the monikers were originally indications of provenance that, over time, developed into a type of brand name or trademark that might have included imitations of distinctive textiles produced far from their original locations of production. Thomas Ertl and Evelin Wetter could prove such a process of dissemination and emulation of certain manufacturing techniques in the case of the opus anglicanum embroidery that was widely imitated on the European mainland during the late 13th and early 14th centuries.63 David Jacoby suggested a similar development for the opus cyprense.64 Moreover, on the Iberian peninsula and in Lucca, tartar cloth was widely imitated.65 Such imitations were at times named and described as such in the papal inventories, which reveals that the officers redacting the inventories were aware of these phenomena. The 1311 inventory, for example, mentions panni tartarici ad modum suriani, which might have been produced in Soria, Castile.66 In any event, the fact that provenance notices figure prominently in the papal inventories proves that the localization of textiles was charged with meaning and figured as an essential criterion for their perception. This is also evident in the fact that contemporary inventories omitted these notices. The inventory of gifts from Pope Boniface VIII to Anagni Cathedral, dated around the year 1300, and the earliest inventory of the sacristy of San Francesco at Assisi (1338), are two examples.67 Contemporary inventories of English cathedrals also lack the 62 Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1882) (as n. 12), pp. 281–284. 63 Ertl, Die Gier (as n. 36); Evelin Wetter, Defining a Model of Worship: An Embroidered Orphrey with Depictions Based on the Cantigas de Santa Mar&a, in: Iconography of Liturgical Textiles in the Middle Ages, ed. Eadem, Riggisberg 2010, pp. 89–102. 64 Jacoby, Cypriot Gold Thread (as n. 48), pp. 109–110. 65 See Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3), p. 7 (with notes 30, 31). 66 Item unum frustum de panno tartarico ad modum suriani, longum, quasi integrum, indicum; et habet in uno capite unam parvam listam de auro per traversum; et non apparet dicta lista nisi ex una parte. Item aliud frustrum satis mod[ic]um de panno tartarico ad mod[ic]um suriani quasi rubeum, et habet listam quasi de eodem panno in uno capite. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 430. 67 In the inventory from Anagni, 95 liturgical textiles are only described with respect to their material features, namely the types of fabrics and other materials they contain. Information indicating the provenance is only given in the cases of the opus theotonicum and the panni tartarici. In contrast to the papal inventories, which are very interested in the production contexts of the textiles, this document emphasizes the nature of the liturgical textiles as papal

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provenance notices.68 Such inventories originating from local dioceses demonstrate far more interest in the donors and benefactors of the liturgical textiles than in their provenance and production contexts. By contrast, the inventories of the French dynasty of the Valois dating to the late 14th and beginning of the 15th century are much more similar to the papal lists, as they include references to provenances and manufacturing techniques as a criterion of the textiles’ classification.69 The inventories of Jean de Valois, Duc de Berry (1340–1416), dating from 1401 to 1416, include references to Italy (ouvrage de Florence, orfrois de Venise), France (ouvrage de Paris), England (bordure de la faÅon de Angleterre), Spain (ouvrage d’Espainge), Hungary (/ la faÅon de Hongrie) and to Byzantium (ouvrage de GrHce) in the chapters listing the textiles. Tapestries were classified as ouvrage d’Arras or euvre de Turquie.70 Even if the references regarding the provenances in the entries of the papal inventories cannot be used for a firm scholarly assessment of textile provenance, they must have originally been intended to serve as markers of origin. The terms referring to concrete geographic locations were likely founded on characteristic gifts given to Anagni by Boniface VIII. The pope is named as donor several times. Archivio Capitolare, Anagni, Registri, 2. The inventory is edited by Vincenzo Fenicchia, L’inventario dei paramenti e degli oggetti di sacra suppellettile donati da Bonifacio VIII alla cattedrale di Anagni, in: Palaeographica Diplomatica et Archivistica. Studi in onore di Giulio Battelli, Vol. 2, ed. Giulio Battelli, Rome 1979, pp. 513–525; see also Elster, Die textilen Geschenke (as n. 1), pp. 124–131, 190–191. The inventory from Assisi (1338) reveals a very similar pattern. According to Maureen Miller, of the 122 entries for liturgical vestments, only 17 indicate the places of production, and 16 of these used tartaricum as a type of fabric. See Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3), note 59. The inventory is edited by L. Alessandri, F. Pennacchi, I piF antichi inventari della sacristia del Sacro Convento di Assisi (1338–1473): Bibl. Com. di Assisi, Cod. 337, in: Archivum franciscanum historicum 7 (1914), pp. 82–89. 68 The inventories of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London (1245 and 1295) and of Christ Church in Canterbury (1321) do not use provenance notices. There is detailed information on the materials, the color and the decoration of the liturgical textiles. As in the Anagni inventory, the names of the textile donors and former owners are often listed. Moreover, the patrons of the institutions are recorded (as St. Thomas in the case of Canterbury ; his pontifical vestments are listed in the inventory). Therefore, the textile entries in these cases have a commemorative function. The way in which the textiles are combined with names reveals the owning institutions’ desire to remember important donors, benefactors and their patrons for their formative role in the community’s history. Otto Lehmann-Brockhaus (Ed.), Lateinische Schriftquellen zur Kunst in England, Wales und Schottland vom Jahre 901 bis zum Jahre 1307, Vol. 1, Munich 1955, pp. 254–263, no. 919, 929–935, 937, 941–944; Vol. 2, Munich 1956, pp. 123–142, no. 2732, 2738–2748, pp. 182–215, no. 2890, 2906–2920, 2930–2950. 69 Minges, Das Sammlungswesen (as n. 16), pp. 19–21. 70 Inventaires de Jean Duc de Berry (1401–1416), Vol. 2, ed. Jules Guiffrey, Paris 1896, pp. 151–166, 239–248, 260–266. Former inventories produced by the French and English royal courts, however, do not emphasize the textiles’ provenance in a manner comparable to the language of the papal inventories. See Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3), pp. 16–17.

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appearances for weaving and embroidery of various regions, which were based on technical and stylistic attributes and recognizable to the inventory authors. In this, one might even speak of a pre-modern form of “branding.” Lukas Burkart noted the economic importance of such “trademarks”, stating that they communicated value.71 However, the provenance notices must have been more than indications of worth. Taken together, these brand names or trademarks would have represented the variety, heterogeneity and internationality of the textiles that were part of the pontifical treasure during the late 13th century. In this, they emphasized their owners’ access to material resources and craftsmanship from wide-ranging geographic sources.

2.

The Composite Objects, Comprised of Materials from Various Provenances

Individual artifacts belonging to the treasury of the popes also reveal the heterogeneity and internationality characteristic of the pontifical textile ensemble as a whole. Many of the textiles mentioned in the papal inventories from 1295 and 1311 can be described as “composite objects”, as they were composed of different panni and opera. For example, a tunicella described in the 1311 inventory was composed of a green silk fabric from Lucca, white orphreys interwoven with gold threads made from panni tartarici and an aurifrigium anglicanum. The neckline was decorated by another orphrey with woven or embroidered medallions. A red silk served as lining: Item aliam tuncellam de catasamito lucano viridi. Et habet gramita ante et retro de panno tartarico albo et aureo subtiliter laborato, et circa humeros et spatulas et in pugnalibus habet aurifrigium anglicanum planum, et circa collum habet frigium strictum ad multos compassus laboratum. Et est foderata in gramitibus et per latera aliquantulum de zendado rubeo.72

71 Burkart’s interpretation is based on the treasure’s economic function as a means of payment. According to him, the textiles of the papal treasury are a currency : “Im Gegensatz hierzu [zu Reliquien und liturgischen Büchern] sind etwa Tuche, Stoffe und Textilien durchaus eine solche Währung, was sich auf die kategorialen Kriterien ihrer Erfassung im Verzeichnis auswirkt. Auf drei Aspekte wird bei diesen Objekten jeweils besonderer Wert gelegt: Material, Farbe sowie Herkunft. Das ist deshalb nicht erstaunlich, weil mit diesen Kriterien Textilien nicht nur identifiziert und damit wieder auffindbar gemacht werden konnten, sondern damit zugleich eine Wertangabe verbunden waren [sic!]; unterschiedliche Materialien, Farben und Provenienzen bezeichneten einerseits verschiedene Macharten, bestimmten zugleich aber auch Qualität und Preise von Stoffen.” Burkart, Verzeichnis als Schatz (as n. 5), pp. 188–189, note 114. 72 Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), p. 423.

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The tunicella described in this entry of the papal inventory recalls the dalmatica donated to San Domenico in Perugia by Pope Benedict XI (1303–1304), which is composed of fabrics from very different provenances (Image 1.5b.).73

Image 1.5b. Detail of Dalmatic. T Giuseppe Rocchi/Giulio Ser-Giacomi (Ed.), La Basilica di San Domenico di Perugia, Perugia 2006, p. 375.

The base fabric in this case is a white, gold-brocade lampas with a pattern of tiny floral motifs from the Mongol Empire dated to the second half of the 13th or the beginning of the 14th century.74 The main oriental fabric is decorated by rectangular inserts made of a blue silk with golden patterns from Lucca, which are attached on the back, breast, sleeves and hem. They can be dated to ca. 1350. The silk represents a typical product of the weavers from Lucca and Venice in the fourteenth century : an imitation of oriental – possibly Chinese – silk accented in local Italian visual language. The slim, tablet-woven borders that adorn the

73 Rosati, De Opere Curioso Minuto (as n. 61); Buseghin, Le vesti liturgiche (as n. 61); Eadem, I parati (as n. 61); Napione, La propaganda artistica (as n. 61). 74 Rosati, Migrazioni tecnologiche (as n. 59), pp. 66–68.

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squared-off breast panel cannot be localized to a specific place at the moment.75 The appearance of the dalmatic at the time of its donation to Perugia by Benedict XI is difficult to determine, since the garment was reworked multiple times in the ensuing centuries. Although parts of the garment, such as the inserts of the Lucca silk, date only to a time after the death of Benedict and therefore must have been applied after the papal donation, it is likely that the dalmatic was already composed of different materials when it was given to Perugia by the pope.76 The heterogeneity resulting from this kind of “composite object” is not only likely to be intentional, but may also represent an essential aesthetic criterion for the production process of these textiles. Combining base fabrics and orphreys of the same material, manufacturing techniques and provenance would certainly have been possible as all kinds of these materials were available in the workshops of the papal court where the composition of the papal vestments likely took place.77 The apparently arbitrary combination of different textile objects that, from a modern viewpoint, are not very compatible both exalted the preciousness of the diverse materials and emphasized stylistic and material fractures. As a consequence, these combinations highlighted the material variety of the textiles preserved in the pontifical treasury. Thus, the heterogeneity of the papal treasury’s textile ensemble was not hidden; on the contrary, it was deliberately exhibited in the individual artifact.

Material Discourse and Political Claims of the Papacy The heterogeneity of certain “composite objects” and of the papal textile ensemble as a whole reflects a widespread practice in the treasuries of the late Middle Ages.78 Nevertheless, we must now ask whether the heterogeneity and internationality of the papal textile ensemble, with the provenance and manufacturing techniques emphasized in the inventories, may also be interpreted as a means for the papacy’s political representation. Could the heterogeneity have 75 There are two additional inserts of two white fragments of a different kind of silken material with golden floral figures – according to Maria Ludovica Rosati, this fabric is from the Mongol Empire as well. Rosati, De Opere Curioso Minuto (as n. 61), p. 180. 76 At the moment, the dalmatica is in restoration. The results will be published soon. My personal thanks to Maria Ludovica Rosati for this information. 77 On the workshops of the papal court see above, note 57. 78 On heterogeneity as a characteristic feature of medieval treasuries, see Lucas Burkart, Transfer und Transzendierung. Zum Wandel von Bedeutung in mittelalterlichen Schätzen, in: Le tr8sor au Moyen ffge: discours, pratiques et objets, ed. Idem / Philippe Cordez / Pierre Alain Mariaux, Florence 2010, pp. 69–87, here p. 69. On the heterogeneity of composite objects in medieval treasuries, see Beate Fricke, Ecce Fides. Die Statue von Conques, Götzendienst und Bildkultur im Westen, Munich 2007, pp. 295–310.

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served as a symbolic visualization of the papacy’s political relationships and a claim for universal rule at the end of the 13th century? As components of the papal treasury and active in its public use, the textiles’ materiality forged visual associations with their provenance and production contexts. Including commodities from different regions and areas, this textile collection in its entirety may have formed a “map” representing the political and religious power and relationships of the Roman Church around the year 1300 – presumably also its claims to power in the sense of the “Universal Church”, which strove for a worldwide order for Christian society and political rule.79 Papal universalism was based on the power of binding and loosing granted to the apostle Peter by Christ and fostered by concepts of Roman antiquity that saw Rome as the center of a global dominion. The topos of ancient Rome as head of the world (caput mundi), and especially of the Capitol as the secular center of the Roman world domination, was common in the Middle Ages as well; we might cite the legend of the Salvatio Romae, which can be traced back to the 8th century.80 As early as Pope Leo the Great (440–461), the Roman popes had been interpreting papal primacy as the fulfillment of Roman universality following the pagan Roman Empire.81 The Constitutum Constantini, which was exposed as forgery in the 15th century, had served the papacy since the early 9th century as a legitimization of its claims of secular rule, which initially focused on Rome and the Papal States. The alleged donation of Emperor Constantine (reigned 306–337) to Pope Sylvester (314–335) also contained the rights to the regalia, including the imperialia indumenta, or the imperial robes.82 The reform Pope 79 Horst Fuhrmann, Ecclesia Romana – Ecclesia Universalis, in: Rom im hohen Mittelalter. Studien zu den Romvorstellungen und zur Rompolitik vom 10. bis zum 12. Jahrhundert. Reinhard Elze zur Vollendung seines siebzigsten Lebensjahres gewidmet, ed. Bernhard Schimmelpfennig / Ludwig Schmugge, Sigmaringen 1992, pp. 41–45; Othmar Hageneder, Weltherrschaft im Mittelalter, Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung 93 (1985), pp. 257–278; Arnold Angenendt, Geschichte der Religiosität im Mittelalter, Darmstadt 1997, pp. 322–325. 80 According to this legend, in the time when Rome governed the world, a statue from every kingdom on earth stood on the Capitol Hill. These statues wore a bell around their necks that began to ring when the respective regions started a riot against the Roman rulers. Thus, Rome was able to take immediate countermeasures. Mirabilia urbis Romae, Chapter 16, in: Codice topografico della citt/ di Roma, Vol. 3, ed. Roberto Valentini / Giuseppe Zucchetti, Rome 1946, pp. 17–65, here p. 34; Steffen Diefenbach, Beobachtungen zum antiken Rom im hohen Mittelalter : Städtische Topographie als Herrschafts- und Erinnerungsraum, Römische Quartalschrift für christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte 97 (2002), pp. 40–88, here p. 65. 81 Percy Ernst Schramm, Sacerdotium und Regnum im Austausch ihrer Vorrechte: “imitatio imperii” und “imitatio sacerdotii”. Eine geschichtliche Skizze zur Beleuchtung des “Dictatus papae” Gregors VII., in: Kaiser, Könige und Päpste. Gesammelte Aufsätze zur Geschichte des Mittelalters, Vol. 4.1, ed. Idem, Stuttgart 1970, pp. 57–106, here pp. 88–90. 82 Apart from the crown and tiara (frygium), the forgery mentions the following components of

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Gregory VII (1073–1085) was the first pope to express a vision of a community of equal peoples and kings ruled by the Lateran, which was the center of gravity for the Latin West’s political order. He asserted that the pope was a global prince able to judge and dismiss all secular powers, even the emperor, and to declare entire empires as property of the Roman Church.83 Pope Innocent III (1198–1216) declared that, since the individual rulers had only their respective provinces and the individual kings only their respective empires, Peter’s domain topped them all in both extension and abundance.84 The culmination of the papal claim to sovereignty over the whole world was Boniface VIII’s bull Unam Sanctam, which not only declared every man’s obligation of obedience to the pope, for his soul’s sake, but was also based on the “doctrine of the two swords” and demanded direct papal power over secular issues.85 This claim is also expressed in a somewhat exaggerated way in the bills of indictment preserved from the trial conducted against Boniface VIII after his death. According to these documents, Boniface had demanded that statues should be erected for the new pontiff after every election of a new pope, in his role as ruler over the entire world, and that princes and rulers should bow down before them.86

83 84

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the imperial regalia: the loros, the purple-colored chlamys and the scarlet tunic. The papal mantum (or cappa rubea) that the popes were dressed in immediately after the election (as of the 11th century at the latest) was likely based on the imperial chlamys. Johannes Fried, Donation of Constantine and Constitutum Constantini. The Misinterpretation of a Fiction and its Original Meaning, Berlin / New York 2007, p. 135; Maureen C. Miller, Vestire la Chiesa. Gli abiti del clero nella Roma medievale, Rome 2014, pp. 64–67. Schramm, Sacerdotium und Regnum (as n. 81), p. 98 (without reference to the source); Hageneder, Weltherrschaft (as n. 79), pp. 267–268. “Quia singuli proceres singulas habent provincias et singuli reges singula regna; sed Petrus sicut plenitude, sic et latitudine preminet universis, quia vicarius est illius cuius est terra et plenitudo eius, orbis terrarum et universi, qui habitant in ea.” Regestum Innocentii III papae super negotio Romani imperii, ed. Friedrich Kempf, Rome 1947, p. 48, pp. 13–17. See also Othmar Hageneder, Papst, Kirche und Christenheit bei Innocenz III. Ein Beitrag zum Problem der päpstlichen ‘Weltherrschaft’, in: Signum in Bonum. Festschrift für Wilhelm Imkamp zum 60. Geburtstag, ed Nicolaus U. Buhlmann / Peter Styra, Regensburg 2011, pp. 341–345; Hageneder, Weltherrschaft (as n. 79), pp. 257–278. Tilmann Schmidt, Unam Sanctam, Lexikon des Mittelalters 8 (1997), cols. 1214–1215; Walter Ullmann, Die Bulle Unam Sanctam. Rückblick und Ausblick, Römische Historische Mitteilungen 16 (1974), pp. 45–77; Hageneder, Weltherrschaft (as n. 79), pp. 271–272. The real power of the papacy, however, no longer fulfilled this claim at the time of Boniface VIII’s pontificate. Indeed, the codification of papal universalism by Boniface VIII must be interpreted as a reaction to the nascent destabilization of the ecclesiologically influenced system of rule in Europe. The decline of the papacy as a universal power had already begun in the struggle between Emperor Frederick II (reigned 1212–1250) and Pope Gregory IX (1227–1241) and increased through the conflicts between Pope Boniface VIII and the French king Philip the Fair (reigned 1285–1314). See Kaspar Elm, Das Attentat von Anagni, in: Das Attentat in der Geschichte, ed. Alexander Demandt, Cologne 1996, pp. 91–105, here pp. 97, 100–101. Peter Seiler, Die Idolatrieanklage im Prozeß gegen Bonifaz VIII., in: Bildgeschichte. Fest-

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The popes’ claim of holding both the supreme spiritual and secular political authority is also illustrated within the amassed artifacts in the papal treasury around the year 1300. In addition to the textiles discussed here, the political insignia and trophies in particular played a central role in the material portrayal of power. According to the inventories from 1295 and 1311, essential components of the thrones of the Roman Emperor Constantine (reigned 306–337) and the Hohenstaufen Emperor Frederick II (reigned 1212–1250) were part of the papal treasury.87 The incorporation of these secular regalia by the Holy See literally and physically identifies the popes of the time as rightful universal rulers. Moreover, the universal ideology of papal rule around the year 1300 is reflected in the Christian missionary efforts of that time. Since about 1260, the papal efforts to christianize secular peoples and regions had been focused on the Mongol Empire in particular, in order to gain the region as an ally for the reconquest of the Holy Land from the Saracens, among other reasons.88 The fact that the Il-Khans ruling over Iran were relatively open to the missionary work conducted mostly by the young mendicant orders repeatedly resulted in the expectation of the Latin West that the tartars would shortly convert to the Christian religion. As a consequence, contemporary historiographers highlighted occasional events such as the baptism of a Mongol envoy who was part of an embassy sent to the Second Council of Lyon in 1274.89 The temporary conquest of Damascus and parts of the Holy Land during Il-Khan Ghazan’s military campaign in the West in 1299–1300 likewise resulted in Western enthusiasm for the tartars, a time that roughly coincides with the dates of the two papal inventories discussed in this study.90 To return to the central question of assessing whether the textiles stored in the papal treasury and documented in the inventories may have represented the political and religious power and relationships of the Roman Church around the year 1300, the significance and perception of geographic spaces in the late 13th and early 14th century need to be considered as well. How were regions perceived

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schrift für Horst Bredekamp, ed. Philine Helas, Berlin 2007, pp. 358–360; Ladner, Die Papstbildnisse (as n. 34), Vol. 2, p. 299. The papal claim to Constantine’s throne can be explained by the Donation of Constantine. Frederick II’s throne, however, had come into Charles of Anjou’s possession after the victory over the Staufer ; he in turn gave it to Pope Clement IV (1265–1268). Molinier, Inventaire 1295 (1882) (as n. 12), pp. 632–634, no. 341–355; Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), pp. 393–394, 404. Felicitas Schmieder, Europa und die Fremden. Die Mongolen im Urteil des Abendlandes vom 13. bis in das 15. Jahrhundert, Sigmaringen 1994, pp. 89–109, 128–152; von Fircks, Liturgische Gewänder (as n. 59), pp. 51–53, 56–59. Schmieder, Europa und die Fremden (as n. 88), pp. 95–96. Schmieder, Europa und die Fremden (as n. 88), pp. 104–107.

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by the religious and secular elite in this period? According to Verena Türck, regions were essential for the perception of space in the Staufer period. Interestingly enough, they were perceived as domains, territories marked by political borders. This mode of perception is contrary to the modern concept that sees regions as domains of cultural identity not limited to national border demarcations.91 Verena Türck’s insights support the hypothesis that the provenance notices in the papal inventories, which so prominently refer to different contemporary regions of the world, must have had a political dimension.

Conclusion The papal inventories of 1295 and 1311 documented and established in writing an image of the enormous wealth of textile opera in the pontifical treasure. Their well-arranged form as lists and the concise, memorable character of their language allowed for ready understanding of the full range of textiles in the possession of the popes. The “trademarks” indicating origin and technique of manufacture, as well as the vestment types, colors and materials, functioned as fundamental criteria for categorizing the objects. The regularly-repeated provenance notices should not only be understood as indications of worth but also as a means of sealing papal claims to power, as they represented the drive for papal universality in a written form comparable to that of a map. They incorporated the products of the most varied lands and regions into the papal treasure, demonstrating the long arm of the papacy that commanded material resources along with craftsmen and technical expertise throughout the world. This proposal prompts several key questions for further research. As noted above, the practice of combining very different materials and techniques in the holdings of treasuries seems to have been typical throughout the Middle Ages. As a consequence, the question arises if the curial practices of collecting textiles and describing them in inventories around the year 1300 was part of an overarching principle of political representation or if there were special features character91 Verena Türck’s insights result from the evaluation of selected sources that refer to the regions of the Hohenstaufen dynasty (namely the Rhein-Main-Neckar region, Northern Italy, Southern Italy and Sicily). The sources include pilgrim reports, travel descriptions and other historiographical materials. She also considers the cartography of the 12th and 13th centuries. Verena Türck, Regionen in der Wahrnehmung der Zeitgenossen. Rhein-Main-NeckarRaum, Oberitalien und Sizilien in schriftlichen und kartographischen Quellen der Stauferzeit, in: Die Staufer und Italien. Drei Innovationsregionen im mittelalterlichen Europa, ed. Alfried Wieczorek / Bernd Schneidmüller / Stefan Weinfurter, Vol. 1: Essays, Darmstadt 2010, pp. 177–188.

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istic only of the papacy that differ from the secular rulers of the time. A systematic evaluation of the pontifical treasuries and their written record in the context of an overarching study of material discourse on late medieval textiles in both secular and religious theaters of political power would be required to answer this question.92 Moreover, further research is needed to set the variety of the textile holdings in the papal treasury around 1300, as well as their written records, in the wider context of collecting history. Can we interpret the phenomena described in this essay as an early stage of royal or papal collecting? Can we view the pontifical treasury of this time as a systematic collection? If so, how might we define the relationship between the ensemble of artifacts contained in the treasury and certain collecting practices typical of the Early Modern Age, such as the “Kunstund Wunderkammer”, with their encyclopedic ideal of representing the world in microcosm, and private collections and galleries, which ultimately led to the development of the museum as a new public institution of collection in the 18th century?93 Further research should reexamine the common emphasis on the differences between collecting in the Middle Ages and in the Early Modern Age, in order to pursue continuities that hitherto have not been sufficiently analyzed.94 92 Maureen Miller has taken the first step in this direction with her research on the topic. She argues that the papal curia of the late 13th and early 14th centuries developed a specific and distinct language for describing liturgical textiles. This language emphasizes the places and techniques of the production of the textiles in a different manner than the written sources of contemporary royal courts. The latter “[…] do not cultivate the kind of descriptive language of foreign origins of textiles that is so striking in the curial wills and inventories.” Miller, A Descriptive Language of Dominion? (as n. 3), p. 17. 93 The collection history of the Austrian Habsburgs is an interesting example of a transformation process starting with the medieval treasury, continuing with the early modern Kunstkammer and leading to the public museum. See DaCosta Kaufmann, From Treasury to Museum (as n. 2). As far as I know, a comparable collecting history of the Roman papacy remains to be written. So far, research has concentrated on the development of the modern Vatican collections, starting with the papal collections of antiquities in the sixteenth century (Julius II to Sixtus V, 1503–1590). See, for example, Carlo Pietrangeli, I Musei Vaticani. Cinque secoli di storia, Rome 1985. 94 Research on collection and on its historic development from medieval treasure to the “Kunstund Wunderkammer” to the museum is controversial. While, at the beginning of the 20th century, Julius von Schlosser and David Murray spoke of continuities, more recent research tends to differentiate medieval and modern forms of collection and points out discontinuities between these forms. See Pierre Alain Mariaux, Collecting (and Display), in: A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph, Malden / Oxford / Victoria 2006, pp. 213–232. However, Philippe Cordez carries on Schlosser and Murray’s line of thinking; he attempts to explore the phenomenon of preserving objects institutionally over a long period of time and storing them in collections, a praxis characteristic of the Latin Church in the Middle Ages. He draws on practices in medieval church treasures, which show parallels to both the Wunderkammer and to the

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Finally, the question arises of whether there is a correlation between the heterogeneity and internationality in the material and manufacturing technique of the papal textiles and their pictorial decoration. Does the heterogeneity of the material correspond to a heterogeneity of iconography – and, if so, what conclusions can be drawn relating to the context of papal politics and strategies of representation around the year 1300? Indeed, a striking feature of the papal textiles described in the pontifical inventories is the variety of their images and pictorial programs. These range from exclusively ornamental decoration to detailed narrative cycles representing themes of Christian or hagiographic iconography. It is remarkable that the liturgical textiles representing Christian cycles are completed with textiles decorated with secular symbols of power, whose motifs are borrowed from the secular nobility’s political iconography. For example, the vestments in opus cyprense in the cathedral treasury of Anagni discussed above are decorated with circular medallions containing stylized animals, namely pairs of parrots, griffins and double-headed eagles (Image 1.4.). In their repetitive ordering, these embroideries imitate the patterns of imperial silk fabrics from Byzantium.95 Moreover, a large number of silk fabrics with armorial decoration were part of the pontifical treasury around 1300 – most commonly mentioned in the inventories are the panni lucani, whose repeating pattern is defined by the blazon of the Caetani family and by papal insignia (Image 1.1.). Numerous textiles appear in the inventories with patterns that combine the papal coat of arms with the blazons of different European royal and noble families, such as the royal houses of France and England.96 Such textiles with “armorial pattern repeats” might be interpreted as representations of an ideal state of papal political alliances.97 As a consequence, the papacy’s claims to power are not only asserted in museums. Thus, the quest for universality that Cordez detects in the Carolingian relic policy appears as a central characteristic of many later collections up to the modern period, including the papal textile collections around 1300 discussed here. Cordez’ studies call into question the discontinuity between medieval and modern collection practices and reveal it as a narrative that was shaped by the museums themselves as enlightened institutions of the 18th and 19th centuries. Instead of acknowledging the legacy of the Christian church treasures from the Middle Ages, the studies focused on the humanistic collector and naturalist and attributed the foundation of the modern collection to him. Cf. Cordez, Schatz, Gedächtnis, Wunder (as n. 8). 95 As has been shown above, such imperial fabrics produced in Constantinople were part of the textile holdings of the papal treasury and their provenance was known. 96 Item unum pannum pro cortina, laboratum ad multos compassus rotundos, et in aliquibus compassibus sunt duplices claves legate cum filo aureo, et in aliis arma Regis francie, et in aliis arma Regis anglie, et in aliis arma bonifatiana. Inventarium 1311 (as n. 18), pp. 438–439. See also above, note 35. 97 Kristin Böse demonstrated a similar strategy for the armorial textiles of the Castilian rulers in Santa Mar&a de las Huelgas, especially for the armorial decoration of the garments in the

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the variety of techniques, brand names and origins of the textiles stored in the pontifical treasury around the year 1300, but were also stitched and woven into a selected number of them as images.

tomb of Fernando de la Cerda, dating before 1275. According to Böse, the coats of arms on Fernando’s garments reinforce the claim of a unified Christian kingdom by combining the symbols of Castile-Lejn with the blazons of different European royal and noble families. Kristin Böse, Cultures Re-Shaped: Textiles from the Castilian Royal Tombs in Santa Mar&a de las Huelgas in Burgos, in: Dressing the Part: Textiles as Propaganda in the Middle Ages, ed. Kate Dimitrova / Margaret Goehring, Turnhout 2014, pp. 95–105, here p. 104.

Thomas Ertl

The Bishop of Freising Visits His Estates (1316–1320): Conrad III. Sendlinger and his Inventories

The bishopric of Freising was founded in 739 and is located in Bavaria, 70 kilometres northeast of Munich. In addition to the religious diocese of Freising, several secular domains could also be found in Bavaria. However, a large part of the Freising estates were located in the Eastern Alps, in present-day Austria, Slovenia and Italy (Image. 2.1.).1 These properties mainly came into the hands of the bishop’s church as gifts from kings and nobles between the 10th and 12th century.2 As a result, instead of contiguous territories developing outside of Bavaria, the properties which included individual farms and larger estates were scattered. These properties often remained in Freising’s control until secularisation in the 19th century. Although this form of long-distance rule was typical in the Middle Ages,3 it was especially pronounced in the case of Freising. A result of this property structure was a constant mobility between the main residence and the ecclesiastical and secular outposts.4 In the High Middle Ages, the manors themselves 1 Alfons Ammer, Der weltliche Grundbesitz von Freising und ihre Herrschaft Burgrain, in: Wissenschaftliche Festgabe zum Zwölfhundertjährigen Jubiläum des Heiligen Korbinian, ed. Joseph Schlecht, Munich 1924, pp. 337–350; Helmuth Stahleder, Hochstift Freising (Freising, Ismaning, Burgrain) (Historischer Atlas von Bayern. Teil Altbayern 33), Munich 1974, pp. 6–9; Hubert Glaser (Ed.), Hochstift Freising. Beiträge zur Besitzgeschichte, Munich 1990; Gertrud Thoma, Zur Grundherrschaft des Bistums Freising im Hochmittelalter. Organisation und Nutzung der Besitzungen in Bayern und im Ostalpenraum. Ein Vergleich, in: Querschnitte. “… Der wissendlich Romanen für Historien ausgibt …”. Deutsch-slovenische Kultur und Geschichte im gemeinsamen Raum, ed. Krista Zach, Veröffentlichungen des Stüdostdeutschen Kulturwerks B/80, Munich 2001, pp. 21–61. 2 On the early medieval developments, see Wilhelm Störmer, Zur Frage der Funktionen des kirchlichen Fernbesitzes im Gebiet der Ostalpen vom 8.–10. Jahrhundert, Nationes 6 (1987), pp. 379–403. 3 For a comparison with other Bavarian bishoprics, see Rudolf Endres, Fränkische und bayerische Bischofsresidenzen, in: Blätter für deutsche Landesgeschichte 123 (1987), pp. 51–65. 4 Gertrud Thoma, Räumliche Mobilität als Folge von mittelalterlichem Streubesitz. Die Beziehungen des Bistums Freising zu seinen alpinen Besitzungen, in: Mobilit8 spatiale et frontiHres, ed. Thomas Busset, Histoire des Alpes 3, Zurich 1998, pp. 145–156; Gertrud

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were sometimes settled by individuals from Bavaria and the bordering regions. Colonisation was so extensive that it permanently altered the ethnic and linguistic border zones in the Eastern Alps.5 These peasants, as well as Freising church officials, were responsible for the transport of the manorial rents, whether they were in kind or in cash. After collecting the rents at the central locations of each manor, the transport usually passed through several Freising bases on the way to Bavaria. For example, in a transport of money that we know of from 1318, six black money chests full of silver and Prague marks were brought from Groß-Enzersdorf and Waidhofen to Ober-Wölz and then on to Freising by various officials.6 These officials did not choose the quickest route along the Danube, but instead moved from one Freising domain to the next – likely due to security reasons. Mobility was also necessary for the administration of the church and the estate. The bishop often filled ecclesiastical and administrative positions in parish churches,7 collegiate churches and the manors with people from his surroundings.8 The office holders had to travel regularly and report and present accounts to the bishop. When local priests were appointed to clerical grades and offices, they were supposed to meet the bishop wherever the episcopal household was in residence in order to receive investiture. Again, traveling was necessary. After all, the bishops themselves were often on the move.9 The bishops visited churches on special occasions, arranged functioning administrative systems at their manors, settled controversial issues and worked for the protection of their property.10 In 1160, for example, Bishop Albert went on a journey that was welldocumented. A year before, the cathedral and parts of the city of Freising had burnt down. In order to finance the necessary construction, the bishop had a list of earnings drawn up and set off to his manors in the Eastern Alps in order to secure the revenues from his scattered properties.11 He visited places such as

5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Thoma, Bischöflicher Fernbesitz und räumliche Mobilität. Das Beispiel des Bistums Freising (12. bis 14. Jahrhundert), in: Zeitschrift für Bayerische Landesgeschichte 62 (1999), pp. 15–40. Pavle Blaznik, Das Hochstift Freising und die Kolonisation der Herrschaft Lack im Mittelalter, Litterae Slovenicae 5, Munich 1968. FRA (n. 22) 2/36, p. 65. On the 35 parish churches outside of the diocese, see Hans Rössler, Die Besetzungsrechte des Freisinger Bischofs außerhalb seines Bistums (von 1315 bis 1803), in: Beiträge zur altbayerischen Kirchengeschichte 47 (2003), pp. 51–65. Thoma, Bischöflicher Fernbesitz 25 with fn. 33. Michael Thompson, Medieval Bishops’ Houses in England and Wales, Ashgate 1998, pp. 10–13. Naomi Payne, The Peripatetic Life of the Medieval Bishop: The Travels of Salisbury and Bath and Wells, in: People and Places: Essays in Honour of Michael Aston, ed. Michael D. Costen, London 2007, pp. 130–136. Getrud Thoma, Bemerkungen zum ältesten Urbar des Hochstifts Freising, in: Beiträge zur altbayerischen Kirchengeschichte 42 (1996), pp. 7–32, here p. 11–13.

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Bischoflack (Sˇkofja Loka) in Slovenia and Friesach in Carinthia, travelled through Styria and spent a while in Vienna, where he met with the duke. The bishops did not travel alone, but were always surrounded by a retinue of both clergy and secular individuals.12 Household clerks assisted with the transaction of routine diocesan business, and local priests and nobles joined the traveling group to receive the bishops’ favour or to take part in legal decisions. These individuals could sometimes be seen at the side of the bishop for longer periods of time.13

Image 2.1. The Diocese of Freising and its Distant Estates.

In the 14th century, the bishops began to stay more frequently and for longer periods of time in the Eastern Alps.14 This was due to both the tense political situation in Bavaria as well as the economic importance of the local estates. For the proper exercise of his rule, a bishop required provisions befitting of his rank – even if he was not at his main residence in the cathedral city. On every journey, the bishop’s retinue certainly carried some of the material provisions of the bishop’s court along with them. Without a doubt, liturgical instruments, liturgical and administrative documents, clothing and textiles were among these provisions. However, it also made sense to store items for the episcopal exercise 12 Payne, Peripatetic Life, pp. 134–135. 13 Thoma, Räumliche Mobilität, pp. 149–153; Thoma, Bischöflicher Fernbesitz, pp. 20–25. 14 Thoma, Bischöflicher Fernbesitz, pp. 31–32.

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of power at the specific location as well. This was also true for other secular manorial properties.15 In the case of Freising, we know some details of the furnishing of these outposts, as Bishop Conrad III had ordered the composition of an administration guide, also known as the “Notizbuch”, in which these material facets of episcopal rule were addressed.16 Bishop Conrad III Sendlinger, led the bishopric from 1314 until his death in 1322. He was regarded as an active spiritual and secular leader who successfully overcame the political crises of his time.17 One sign of his administrative modernity is his notebook, which, according to his own assertion, he had made in the spring of 1316. Similar to other late-medieval bishops’ registers, the manuscript contains a variety of topics: copies of charters18, accounts from the manors, inventories, notes on purchase contracts, pawns and debts as well as other administrative material. Although the register is not as exhaustive and comprehensive as contemporary English bishops’ registers,19 it is still quite a unique source for Central Europe.20 Not surprisingly, the manuscript has been studied intensively by historians.21 In this process, the medieval supranational structure of the bishopric disappeared behind modern national borders: German, Austrian and Slovenian scholars mainly focused on specific parts of the 15 Franz Joseph Mone, Hausrath des Bischofs von Speier in seinen Höfen und Burgen 1391, in: Zeitschrift für die Geschichte des Oberrheins 3 (1852), pp. 255–256. 16 The manuscript includes 65 sheets of parchment and can be found in the Archiv des Erzbistums München und Freising, “Heckenstaller-Sammlung”, AEM H 250. On the manuscript, see Herwig Weigl, Ein Prokurator um sechs Gulden und ein Buch für die Zukunft. Taverninus von Novara, Bischof Konrad III. von Freising und das bischöfliche “Notizbuch”, in: Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung 112 (2004), pp. 238–271, here pp. 263–271. For the edition see n. 22. 17 Josef Maß, Das Bistum Freising im Mittelalter, Munich 1986, pp. 241–247; Manfred Heim, Konrad Sendlinger († 1322), in: Die Bischöfe des Heiligen Römischen Reiches 1198 bis 1448, hg. von Erwin Gatz, Berlin 2001, pp. 194–195. 18 On the charters listed in the book, see Joachim Wild, Zur Geschichte der Archive von Hochstift und Domkapitel Freising, in: Vom Domberg nach München. Beiträge und Quellen zu Geschichte und Beständen der Freisinger Archive vor, während und nach der Säkularisation, ed. Roland Götz, Schriften des Archivs des Erzbistums München und Freising 18, Regensburg 2014, pp. 47–83, here pp. 50–54. 19 J. Robert Wright, The Church and the English Crown 1305–1334. A Study Based on the Register of Archbishop Walter Reynolds, Studies and Texts – Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies 48, Toronto 1980. For a contemporary example, see The Registers of Bishop Henry Burghersh 1320–1342, 3 vols., ed. Nicholas Bennett, The Lincoln Record Society, pp. 87, 90, 101 (1999–2011). For the genre, see David M. Smith, Guide to Bishops’ Registers of England and Wales. A Survey from the Middle Ages to the Abolition of Episcopacy in 1646, London 1981. 20 On 15th-century inventories in Austria, see Oswald Zingerle, Mittelalterliche Inventare aus Tirol und Vorarlberg, Innsbruck 1909. On several inventories of Castello del Buonconsiglio, residence of the bishops of Trient/Trento, composed between 1465–1486, see idem, pp. 146–171. 21 Weigl, Prokurator, pp. 263–264.

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manuscript regarding their own respective region. This is why the Austrian issues were edited separately in 1870.22

Image. 2.2. Conrad’s Notebook fol. 74v : Annotacio rerum relictarum in camera Waidhoven. Archiv des Erzbistums München und Freising, “Heckenstaller-Sammlung”, AEM H 250.

22 Josef Zahn, Codex Diplomaticus Austriaco-Frisingensis (Fontes Rerum Austriacarum, ser. II, vol. 31, 35, 36), Vienna 1870/1871. Conrad’s notebook in FRA 2/36, pp. 51–168.

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As early as 1858, it was stated that there was no codex as valuable for the study of Freising’s holdings in Austria and the Eastern Alps as Conrad’s notebook.23 This is true for the study of Freising’s rights and possessions in this region as well as for other social and economic questions. However, the register makes it possible to address further questions as well, such as the material background of an episcopal government stretching far beyond the diocese’s borders. As previously stated, the bishop travelled with a retinue of considerable size and resided in the centres of his estates during these travels. There, he lived in castles or fortified houses.24 The journeys must have lasted several weeks. With an average of 30 kilometres a day, the more than 1,000 kilometre journey from Freising to Bischoflack (Sˇkofja Loka) to Vienna and back again would have taken more than one month, without including resting days and stops.25 An actual journey was likely twice as long or longer. How the bishop ensured that he could adequately perform his duties while travelling has not yet been studied. Conrad’s book, however, includes several inventories that shed some light on this matter26. From these inventories, although we learn little about the daily consumption and expenses for bread, wine and other household items27 (as the inventories were not accounting rolls),28 we do learn something about the furnishing of an episcopal court with items for the exercise and representation of power29. Bishop Conrad was interested in the material wealth and splendour of his

23 Weigl, Prokurator 263 fn. 148 (citing Josef Zahn). 24 On the bishops’ residences in England, see Thompson, Medieval Bishops’ Houses, Ashgate 1998. 25 Marjorie Nice Boyer, A Day’s Journey in Medieval France, in: Speculum 26 (1951), pp. 597–608. 26 Christina Schmid, Überlegungen zur Rekonstruktion des Inventars einer Burg um 1300. Beiträge zur Mittelalterarchäologie in Österreich 24 (2008), pp. 114–195. 27 R. W. Dunning, The Households of the Bishops of Bath and Wells in the Later Middle Ages, in: Proceedings of the Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society 110 (1966), pp. 24–39. 28 John Webb (Ed.), A Roll of the Household Expenses of Richard de Swinfield, Bishop of Hereford, During Part of the Years 1289 and 1290, 2 vol. (Publications of the Camden Society I/59 and 62), London 1854/55, reprint New York 1968. For other examples, see C. M. Woolgar (Ed.), Household Accounts from Medieval England, Oxford 1992. – The earliest household accounts of Freising manors outside Bavaria are those of Bischoflack 1397–1400 but they do not include the trade of cloth or clothing. See Matjazˇ Bizjak, Srednjevesˇki obracˇuni freisinsˇke sˇkofije. Die mittelalterlichen Abrechnungen des Hochstifts Freising 1: Abrechnungen der Herrschaften Sˇkofj a Loka und Klevevzˇ 1395–1401, in: Losˇki razgledi 52 (2005), pp. 11–16 and 2. del Obracˇuni gospostev Sˇkofj a Loka 1399–1401 in Klevevzˇ 1395–1400 Teil 2: Abrechnungen der Herrschaften Sˇkofj a Loka 1399–1401 und Klevevzˇ 1395–1400, in: Losˇki razgledi 53 (2006), pp. 317–367. 29 Xavier Hermand / Jean-FranÅois Nieus / Ptienne Renard (Ed.), D8crire, inventorier, enregistrer entre Seine et Rhin au Moyen ffge. Formes, fonctions et usages des 8crits de gestion, M8moires et documents de l’Pcole des Chartes 92, Paris 2012.

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bishopric.30 That is why he had the church treasury at his cathedral registered in his book. This was a typical high medieval church treasure31 stored in several rooms at the bishop’s residence in Freising. Three groups of items were most common: liturgical instruments, books and textiles. Corresponding with the heading of the inventory (Annotatio vasorum argenteorum depositorum Frisingae in turri), the valuable chalices, cups, plates, bowls, bells, crosses and rings of precious metal are listed at the beginning of the inventory, altogether approximately 80 items. Books and textiles then follow in several different sections. The 80 books are primarily canonical and liturgical texts. Several hundred textiles and garments account for the largest part of the treasure and also comprise the largest variety : wool and silk cloths were just as present as saddles and bridles, belts and bags, mitres and shoes, liturgical vestments and military apparel.32 In Freising, the bishop was therefore equipped to adequately perform liturgical services and to showcase his episcopal grandeur, as well as to safeguard his status as manorial lord in dangerous times. But what was the situation in the provinces? From the “Notizbuch” we know that the Freising bishops had goods kept at their most important bases outside of Bavaria. These were not treasures in the strict sense, but household items that were meant to ensure the comfort of the travelling bishop as well as his successful wielding of power. The stored goods were armoury and wardrobe at the same time33. Practicality, rather than splendour, was the focus here. Below, the inventories of Waidhofen an der Ybbs, Groß-Enzersdorf and Bischoflack will be introduced. These places were the central bases of Freising rule in the Eastern Alps. In the late Middle Ages, Waidhofen an der Ybbs was economically the most

30 On the rent-roll and account book that Conrad III also had made, see Weigl, Prokurator 269. On the dichotomy between material possessions and spiritual ideals of the late medieval episcopate, see Christopher Woolgar, Treasure, Material Possessions and the Bishops of Late Medieval England, in: The Prelate in England and Europe, 1300–1560, ed. Martin Heale, Woodbridge 2014, pp. 173–190, here p. 173. 31 Bernhard Bischoff, Mittelalterliche Schatzverzeichnisse, Munich 1967; Woolgar, Treasure, pp. 175–181; Lucas Burkart / Philippe Cordez / Pierre Alain Mariaux (Ed.), Le tr8sor au Moyen ffge. Discours, pratiques et objets, Micrologus’ Library 32, Florence 2010; Joseph Salvatore Ackley, Re-approaching the Western Medieval Church Treasury Inventory, c. 800–1250, in: Journal of Art Historiography (2014), pp. 1–37. 32 Max Fastlinger, Der Freisinger Turmschatz unter Bischof Konrad dem Sentlinger (1314–1322), in: Beiträge zur Geschichte, Topographie und Statistik des Erzbistums München und Freising 8 (1903), pp. 57–70. 33 On separate aristocratic wardrobes in medieval London, see Derek J. Keene, Wardrobes in the City : Houses of Consumption, Finance and Power, in: Thirteenth Century England VII. Proceedings of the Durham Conference 1997, ed. Michael C. Prestwich, Woodbridge 1999, pp. 61–79.

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important estate of the Freising church in Austria.34 The bishops had supported urban development there, building themselves a city palace on a rock terrace35. Since the late 13th century, the bishop had regularly spent some time in this residence known as aula or palas,36 where there was an archive for the documents of the bishops as well as a storeroom. In 1316, Bishop Conrad had his mobile possessions that were stored in Waidhofen inventoried. The inventory was titled “Inventory of the Items Left in the Chamber in Waidhoven” (Annotacio rerum relictarum in camera Waidhoven) (Image 2.2.).37 The keeper of the episcopal possessions was the notary Johannes, to whom the bishop had delegated the position of granator in Waidhofen several years prior. In the inventory of the episcopal chamber in Waidhofen, 133 entries with over 1,000 items are mentioned (Image 2.3.). Half of these items are small and of little value, such as arrows for crossbows, ropes or horseshoes. The items can essentially be grouped into four categories: war equipment and military apparel; dishes and household goods; textiles; furniture. War equipment and military apparel accounted for the largest part of the goods in the chamber. At the top of the inventories, there were 93 crossbows of different types: large, old and new, with different ways of tightening the bow. A large amount of replacement parts, such as bows (rods), sticks (stocks), hooks and strings was also available. Ammunition and several quivers were stored in sufficient quantity as well: one entry in the inventory reads “2,000 bolts” (telorum duo milia). In the stock of weapons, there were also several bows, lances, halberds and maces. These weapons could arm approximately 50 people. For a smaller number of people, military apparel also stood at the ready : Harnesses, chain mail, suits of armour, iron gloves, knee and leg protectors made of leather and several saddles and shields were listed. The period after the battle was also taken care of: There were three torture tools and nine pairs of handcuffs in the bishop’s chamber. The bishop of Freising also stored furniture in Waidhofen. Most of the pieces were ordinary items of utility. There were several beds, several armchairs and 34 Herwig Weigl, Zur Geschichte Waidhofens an der Ybbs im 13. Jahrhundert, in: Mitteilungen aus dem Niederösterreichischen Landesarchiv 8 (1984), pp. 15–30; idem, Waidhofen an der Ybbs und das 14. Jahrhundert. Ein- und Ausblicke, in: Waidhofner Heimatblätter 14 (1988), pp. 1–30, idem, Reibungspunkte zwischen Stadt und Herrschaft. Die freisingische Pfleger in Waidhofen an der Ybbs, in: Hochstift Freising. Beiträge zur Besitzgeschichte, ed. Hubert Glaser, Munich 1990, pp. 287–304. 35 On the episcopal castle in Waidhofen, see Peter Maier, Waidhofen a. d. Ybbs. Spuren der Geschichte, Waidhofen a. d. Ybbs 2006, pp. 45–50; Günther Buchinger / Paul Mitchell / Doris Schön, Die Baugeschichte des Schlosses Waidhofen an der Ybbs, in: Feuer & Erde. Katalog zur Niederösterreichischen Landesausstellung in Waidhofen an der Ybbs und St. Peter in der Au, ed. Karl Holubar / Wolfgang Christian Huber / Birgit Trinker (2007), pp. 200–206. 36 Maier, Waidhofen, p. 47. 37 FRA 2/36, pp. 69–71 and 75–76.

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cathedrae. The most splendid piece was likely a valuable saddle from Vienna (sella domini preciosa de Wienna). There were four oil lamps and four candlesticks to provide light at the episcopal lodgings. The tableware and cooking utensils were rather modest. The cook could make use of approximately a dozen kettles, pots and pans. The dishes could be served in two dozen bottles, vessels, bowls and dishes of iron, tin and wood (and only one of silver). There were numerous cups for drinking (approximately four dozen) that were mostly made of wood. The textile supply did not include many articles of clothing; instead, there were more hand towels, mattresses and pillows. Pillows made up the majority of this category : There were three pillows from Cologne as well as a dozen pillows made of sendal. Three new carpets, a bear skin (although of no value), three pairs of antlers, the top of a crosier made of ivory and two fans made of peacock feathers brought a somewhat modest sense of splendour into the episcopal rooms. Medieval treasures were not static entities. For their owners, they were economic and political resources to reward current supporters or to win new ones. Conversely, gifts expanded the treasury and created or deepened the relationship between the gift-giver and the recipient. This role of a treasury is clearly illustrated by the episcopal possessions in Waidhofen. The holdings grew through transports from other Freising bases, through purchases and through rents from Freising manors. These rents were paid with money, meaning that the Waidhofen chamber also acted as an episcopal depository. However, the bishop made use of this money and these items and gave, for example, money and weapons to his people or had purchases made. Two saddles for transporting loads as well as two scales, one with Viennese weights and the other with Cologne weights, symbolised the economic function of the possessions. Lastly, it should be noted that the chamber also served as an archive in which documents related to Waidhofen were stored. The nature of the episcopal holdings in Groß-Enzersdorf was somewhat different.38 Around 1300, the Freising domain of Groß-Enzersdorf, located on the Danube near Vienna, was a well-organised and lucrative estate that included two markets and close to a dozen villages. Freising had gained a foothold here in the 11th century and, despite several setbacks, had secured and expanded the estate.39 The first indication of an episcopal castle dates back to 1265.40 In the chapel of the castle, in an ironclad chest, the documents relating to the manor were stored. 38 FRA 2/36, pp. 104–106. 39 Max Weltin, Die Entstehung der freisingischen Herrschaft Groß-Enzersdorf, in: Glaser, Hochstift, pp. 271–285. 40 Weltin, Entstehung, p. 285.

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However, the castle chapel was also used as an arms depot where two crossbows were located (item in recessu domini de balistario in capella relicta sunt due baliste). As in Waidhofen, the weapons accounted for the largest part of the possessions. In both the bishop’s chamber (camera domini) and in a room above the castle’s gate (camera super porta castri), there were predominately weapons and pieces of armour. There were once again different types of crossbows. Military equipment such as breastplates, kettle hats, shields and lances were stored in another room known as camera Heinczlini. The granator in Groß-Enzersdorf was also responsible for the bishop’s manor (curia villicalis) and its holdings and livestock. These were also inventoried. The livestock included a dozen horses, a dozen cows, several calves, 105 pigs, several dozen chickens, two dogs and two cats. There were also tools such as manure forks and shovels.

Image 2.3. The Bishop’s Possessions in Waidhofen (1317) and Bischoflack (1320).

The third main episcopal town in the Eastern Alps was Bischoflack (Sˇkofja Loka), 25 kilometres northwest of Ljubljana.41 The site was given to the Freising Bishop Abraham by Emperor Otto II in 973. A settlement, with the episcopal castle, developed at the foot of the mountain, finally receiving it its town charter in 1310. The manor consisted of almost 300 farms around 1300. In 1202, the bishop’s castle had been identified as castrum firmissimum (heavily fortified castle)42. The bishop had items stored in several rooms of the castle and had them 41 Miha Kosi, Die Anfänge von Bischoflack und die Freisinger Bischöfe als Städtegründer : eine vergleichende Studie über die Stadtwerdung in Krain im Mittelalter, in: Festschrift für Pavle Blaznik, ed. Matjaz Bizjak, Ljubljana 2005, pp. 93–124. On the possessions in Slovenia, see Sergij Vilfan, Lage und Struktur der freisingischen Herrschaften in Krain, in: Hochstift Freising. Beiträge zur Besitzggeschichte, ed. Hubert Glaser, Munich 1990, pp. 351–365; Gertrud Thoma, Die Freisinger Bischöfe und der Bistumsbesitz in Slowenien um 1300, in: Festschrift für Pavle Blaznik, ed. Matjaz Bizjak, Ljubljana 2005, pp. 83–92. 42 Dusˇan Kos, In Burg und Stadt. Spätmittelalterlicher Adel in Krain und Untersteiermark, Veröffentlichungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung 45, Vienna / Munich 2006, pp. 279–282.

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inventoried, not only once, but three times in 1315, 1318 und 1320.43 The comparison of these inventories illustrates that the holdings of the episcopal estate changed constantly. New items were added, either as purchases, gifts or rents; other items were given away. There are overlaps and differences among all three inventories. Some items were also relocated from one chamber to another. The 1320 inventory is the most extensive and covers the following rooms: the camera Laurini, the bishop’s chamber (camera domini episcopi), the refectory near the chapel (refectorium iuxta capellam), cellars and kitchens, Johannes’ chamber (camera Johannis) and chaplain Ulrich’s chamber (camera domini Ulrici). In the earlier inventories, a tower room, the large and small living room, the granary and a chamber underneath the episcopal chamber were still listed as storage sites. The inventoried items in these rooms were either located in other rooms or were not inventoried in the 1320 inventory. The 1320 inventory has a similar structure to the Waidhofen inventory (Image 2.3.). Weapons are the most common: Over 150 entries of weapons, military equipment and military clothing are listed44. Altogether, there are approximately 600 items. Crossbows, knives and shields are listed first. Added to this are 20 tunics with the Freising coat of arms, the head of an Ethiopian (20 waffenröch cum capitibus Ethiopum).45 Ammunition was also present, with 2,000 bolts and 1,500 arrows. The military clothing of the bishop, the arma domini, was its own entry, which included chain mail, bascinet (helmet), gugel (hood-like headcovering that was worn underneath the helmet and also covered the shoulders), two leather armbands, two gauntlets and a shield. There were approximately 500 items stored in the rooms in Bischoflack that were either used in religious services, for living comfort or for the operation of the manor. Among the liturgical items were containers for the host (pixides) and large and small drinking vessels (cyphi). Some of these were preserved in cloths. Perhaps the lamps, bowls and two painted panels (tabula depicta, one of them super pannum lineum) present were also used in the liturgy. Only a few items of furniture were inventoried: several tables, chairs and beds and two painted chests with the documents (due truce depicte ad privilegia). A wooden door with a latch and lock for the episcopal chamber (ianua lignea que fuit ante cameram domini habens seram et ligamen ferreum) was also mentioned. Bottles (several bottles in the shape known as “angster”), fans, dice, game 43 FRA 2/36, pp. 122–124 and 142–149. 44 Nenad Plemeniti, Losˇki grad, leto 1315 in bojna oprema posameznika Sˇkofja Loka/Burg ˇ asopis za zgodovino in Bischofslack. Ein Blick in eine Rüstkammer des Jahres 1315, in: C narodopisje 78/43 (2007), pp. 11–29. 45 On this coat of arms, see Maß, Freising 246–7; Der Mohr kann gehen. Der Mohr von Freising, Diözesanmuseum für Christliche Kunst des Erzbistums München und Freising. Kataloge und Schriften 30, Lindenberg 2002.

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boards, chamber pots and other utensils were for secular welfare at the table and in leisure time. Additionally, there were kitchen items consisting of several pots, pans and other equipment. Barrels were stored in the cellar, several of them empty, several filled with beer and wine and others with vegetables (dolea cum oleribus). For the running of the manor, there were horse saddles and harnesses, tools such as hammers, shovels and chisels, as well as scales, iron dog chains (catena ferrea pro canibus) and a small fishing net. The textile holdings, which included approximately 70 pieces, were less extensive. There were no articles of clothing included, except for the previously mentioned military articles of clothing. Cloths, tablecloths, bags, mattresses and pillows formed the majority of the textiles present. Generally, these were not described in more detail. The exceptions were five Lombard cloths (manuteria quinque Lombardica), a linen cloth from the Rhine (chreuslinum de Reno), two cloths from Chalons (ii panni virgulati schalaun ad sedilia) and a silk cloth (pannis sericeus). The unique items included: a flag of sendal (panirium de cendato), a beautiful colourful wall hanging from Venice (cortina pulchra de Veneciis varii coloris) and a large carpet (magnum tapetum). As for curiosities, the bishop in Bischoflack also owned an ostrich egg (ovum struzzionis) and several horns, glass pieces and fans.

Conclusion The inventories of the three Freising residences in Austria and Slovenia have much in common: In all three places, weapons and military equipment play the most important role. This is particularly evident with the military clothing of the bishop in Bischoflack. In addition to military clothing, weapons and military equipment were stored in the episcopal castles for several dozen liegemen. Along with the granator and chaplain, the maker of the crossbows (balistarius) was therefore an important person in the episcopal residence. Moreover, the weapons were a product that the bishop frequently issued to his liegemen. This focus on weapons clearly illustrates that while the Freising bishop also governed church affairs at the estates outside of his diocese, above all he was active as the lord of the manor and a territorial prince46. He appeared to be more of a warlord 46 On prelates acting in war and military actions, see Hugo Schwyzer, Northern Bishops and the Anglo-Scottish War in the Reign of Edward II, in: Thirteenth Century England VII. Proceedings of the Durham Conference 1997, ed. Michael C. Prestwich, Woodbridge 1999, pp. 243–254; Stefan Burkhardt, Mit Stab und Schwert. Bilder, Träger und Funktionen erzbischöflicher Herrschaft zur Zeit Kaiser Friedrich Barbarossas. Die Erzbistümer Köln und Mainz im Vergleich, Mittelalter-Forschungen 22, Ostfildern 2008, pp. 429–39; A Warrior Bishop of the Twelfth Century : the Deeds of Albero of Trier, ed. Brian A. Pavlac, Toronto 2008;

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than a churchman (Image 2.5.)47. His gravestone in St. John Baptist in Freising, while standing in a strong tradition of episcopal burial sites48, reveals only the ecclesiastical facet of the duties of a medieval bishop (Image 2.4.)49.

Image 2.4. Conrad’s gravestone at St. John Image 2.5. The seal of Thomas of Hatfield Bapist in Freising shows him as prelate in († 1381), bishop of Durham, may give an pontifical garments. impression of a bishop in war dress dealing with secular and military affairs.50

47 48 49 50

Jeffrey Robert Webb, Representations of the Warrior-bishop in Eleventh-century Lotharingia, in: Early Medieval Europe 24 (2016), pp. 103–130. On the use of arms and violence by the clergy in canon law, see Lawrence G. Duggan, Armsbearing and the Clergy in the History and Canon Law of Western Christianity, Woodbridge 2013, p. 142 and passim. On the iconography of medieval episcopal gravesites, see, for instance, Zu ewigem Gedächtnis und Lob. Die Grabstätten der Trierer Bischöfe in Dom und Liebfrauen, Trier 2004. Das Grabsteinbuch des Ignaz Alois Frey. Ein Zeugnis Freisinger Geschichtsbewußtseins nach 1803, ed. Hubert Glaser, Sammelblatt des Historischen Vereins Freising 37 (Beiband), Regensburg 2002, pp. 310–311 (Nr. 35). On this seal used by the bishops of Durham as lords palatine (reverse side), see Medieval Seals in the Durham Cathedral Muniments nr. 3138 (http://reed.dur.ac.uk/xtf/view?docId= ead/dcd/dcdmseal.xml) [last access July 2016].

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The furnishing of the episcopal residence does not seem to have been very luxurious. With the furniture and household goods available, the bishop and his retinue could be cared for and a little comfort could be provided. For more people, the tables, chairs, pillows, lamps, beds and kitchen appliances were certainly not enough. In Groß-Enzersdorf, only weapons and agricultural goods seem to have been present. In Waidhofen and Bischoflack, only a few items stand out from the household goods: the ivory head of a crosier, fans made of peacock feathers, a colourful wall hanging from Venice and an ostrich egg. Although the bishop of Freising was one of the princes of the empire, he did not present himself as very princely on his travels through his manorial estates. The holdings in the residences were not only meant to provide for the traveling bishop; these places were also important hubs of the manorial estates. Here, the rents were collected in cash and in kind and were either kept or sent to Freising. With the funds available, the episcopal officials were paid and the favour of others was won through gifts. In his will from 1319, Bishop Conrad III made donations to various churches and individuals and, in doing so, drew from his money holdings in Waidhofen, Groß-Enzersdorf and Wölz.51 The largest sums were endowed to the convent of the collegiate church of St. John which was founded by Conrad and determined as his burial site52. The episcopal possessions and funds that were collected and stored in the Freising residences and castles thus remained a part of the economic cycle and constituted the bishop’s central resource for financing the episcopal politics in these remote manors.53 Clothing and textiles always played an important role for the representation of medieval rule. Even more striking is the meagre number and quality of the textile items in the Freising holdings. In the inventories, there are mostly only vague references to pillows or cloths. Only a few individual pieces brought a bit of glamour to the episcopal living room: the wall hanging from Venice, for example, and a large carpet. Imported products were present, although not in large numbers. These included Lombard cloths and linen from the Rhine. The bishop also owned several silks, which, for the most part, were identified either generally, as sericeus, or were of sendal. There were no luxury goods. Non-military articles of clothing were not mentioned at all. This fact in particular indicates that the bishop and his retinue took their secular and ecclesiastical clothing with them on the journey and lived from their suitcase, so to speak, not depending on the wardrobes in the provinces. To know and describe the episcopal clothing of Conrad III Sendlinger visiting his manors in the Alps we have to turn again to the church treasury at his 51 Zahn, Codex Diplomaticus Austriaco-Frisingensis 2 Nr. 533, pp. 111–114. 52 Maß, Freising, pp. 243–245. 53 For examples of gifts from the treasury, Woolgar, Treasure, pp. 181–188.

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cathedral. As mentioned above it was stored in several rooms at the bishop’s residence in Freising and was also registered in Conrad’s book. When the responsible cleric composed the treasury, he was mainly interested in the liturgical items such as chalices and the book and their theological and canonical content54. Yet the largest group of items were textiles and clothing, ranging from belts and bags to liturgical vestments and military apparel. Apparently, it was this repertoire the Bishop was tapping into when he prepared for a journey outside his diocese. The textile stock ecompassed several hundred pieces. Most of them were rather of simple nature: “Item manutergia simplicia XVII. […] Item balneamina diversi operis XII. Item quoddam velum laneum. There were many more of these small items and accessories. Some of them were described slightly more in detail: Item duo linteamina Lombardica. […] Item pulvinaria sericea XVII. […] Item due selle ungarice cum duobus frenis55. Item alius cingulus viridis deauratus. Iterm tercius cingulus albus deauratus. […] Item burse sericee LV.56 Item paniria duo aurea et tercium de zendato.”57

The whole stock was focused on the practical maintenance of a household and liturgical service rather than a reservoir for conspicuous consumption and splendid government. Of course, there were also episcopal vestements. See for instance this chest: “Item in quadam truca vestis et ornatus Pontificalis cum libro ordinarii. Item baculus pastoralis argenteus58. The stock of vestments was rather limited tough. Apart from the chest mentioned there were quatuor superpellicia et mitra choralis de vario.”59

Not only in the remote manors but also right in the center of the Freising bishopric, war dresses and equipment surmounted the liturgical clothing. If we take the inventories mentioned in this study as the aggregate and complete listing of the bishop’s wardrobe, the astonighing result would be that the bishop of Freising seemed to not care much about befitting episcopal vestments. Seemingly, he was satisfied with some textiles to embellish the church and the altar and even less liturgical clothing for himself. His interest was much more directed towards military dress. In the 14th century, a journey to the wild east was both strenuous and dangerous. When Bishop Conrad set out to visit his estates outside of Bavaria in 1319, he took this as an opportunity to make his will (dum ad presens extra 54 55 56 57 58 59

Fastlinger, Turmschatz, pp. 59–62. Fastlinger, Turmschatz, p. 64. Fastlinger, Turmschatz, p. 68 Fastlinger, Turmschatz, p. 69. Fastlinger, Turmschatz, p. 65. Fastlinger, Turmschatz, p. 69.

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terram Bawarie disponerem proficisci).60 In his testamentary dispositions, he reached into the funds at the residences of his manorial estates. Although the provisions that were also stored there were too small to be used for donations, the episcopal lord of the manor had frequently used the military equipment, of which there was a large amount, as donations throughout his life. At the manors, textiles and articles of clothing were only stored in modest amounts and were of modest quality, as they were among those goods that the bishop brought with him on his journey. Therefore, the material basis of episcopal rule is only partly reflected in the inventories that Bishop Conrad created in his notebook. Nevertheless, the study of the inventories creates the impression that episcopal rule in the 14th century was sometimes more arduous than glamorous.

60 Zahn, Codex Diplomaticus Austriaco-Frisingensis 2 Nr. 533, pp. 111–114.

Sarah-Grace Heller

Revisiting the Inventories of Artois: Fashion, Status, and Taste at the Court of Mahaut, c. 1307–1310

Inventories are scarce before the fourteenth century (“as everyone knows”, as Le Roux de Lincy wrote in 1852).1 Some of the earliest extant inventories to offer a fairly continuous view of consumption practices over several decades are the archives of the house of Artois and Burgundy, comprising about 12,000 extant documents dating from 1250 to 1350. These documents, now in the archives of Pas-de-Calais, include the records of the Countess Mahaut d’Artois from the first third of the fourteenth century. The lists of goods pillaged by her nephew Robert d’Artois compiled for her cases against him, dating from 1316–1318, are famous. Mahaut’s own household accounts afford tantalizing glimpses into the consumption of this period, for elites such as the countess herself as well as for a wide array of people who served and provided goods for her. When editing and analyzing these records in the 1880s, Jules-Marie Richard made them so fascinating that they are currently in print2 and continue to attract attention.3 They are useful for examining questions of fashion and attitudes towards novelty and con1 Antoine Le Roux De Lincy, Inventaires des biens meubles et immeubles de la comtesse Mahaut d’Artois, pill8s par l’arm8e de son neveu, en 1313, BibliothHque de l’8cole des Chartes 13.1 (1852), pp. 53–79, here p. 56. 2 Jules Marie Richard, Mahaut, comtesse d’Artois et de Bourgogne, 1302–1329. Une petite-niHce de Saint-Louis. Ptude sur la vie priv8e, les arts et l’industrie, en Artois et / Paris au commencement du XIVe siHcle, Paris 1887 [reprint Cress8 2010/2013]. Documents from the Archives D8partementales du Pas-de-Calais series A, inventoried by Richard in Idem (Ed.), Inventaire-sommaire des archives d8partementales ant8rieures / 1790. D8partement du Pasde-Calais : Archives civiles, s8rie A, vol. 1, Arras 1878, will be cited as “A” with the assigned document number. 3 Among popular works, Kemp-Welch produced a portrait of Mahaut based on Richard’s analysis of inventory materials in Alice Kemp-Welch, Of Six Medieval Women, London 1913 [reprint Williamston, Mass. 1972]. In contrast, Maurice Druon drew on these and other documents to paint Mahaut as a wicked poisoner and schemer in his “Accursed Kings” series of novels, Maurice Druon, The Accursed Kings, 6 vols., London 1956–1961 [French: Idem, Les Rois maudits, 6 vols., Paris 1955–1960] which were made into mini-series in 1972 and 2005, and inspired George R. R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” novel series which in turn has been loosely adapted into the television series “Game of Thrones”, George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire, 5 vols., New York 1996–2011.

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sumption before 1350, at which it becomes quite obvious from many emerging and proliferating types of sources – inventories notably among them – that what Gilles Lipovetsky called the “permanent debauch of eccentricities”4 had become a central organizing force in Western culture.5 What can Mahaut’s records tell us about fashion at this earlier point in the fourteenth century? They can both offer a case study in how one prominent French court negotiated the tensions between prudent management of household resources and pressures to keep up fashionable appearances at an increasing pace, as well as provide a window on the degrees to which fashion was a dominant social force at that moment. Inventories emerge as an important source for the history of dress and fashion in Western Europe in the later Middle Ages. As recordkeeping increased, constantly indebted aristocratic households were compelled to scrutinize their largesse, and merchants sought to be paid in timely fashion.6 The careful lists compiled by Mahaut’s clerks largely record purchases: quantities, prices paid, when and where items were purchased, types of fabrics or objects, and for whom they were intended. Such inventories cast some light on clothing and textiles at the moment of acquisition, if not on the experiences of construction and wear, nor on attitudes towards their consumption. Other documents from the same period can provide useful comparison. Sumptuary laws were promulgated by the French crown at the urging of the highest nobles in 1279 and 1294. Although we lack much information regarding enforcement, these texts show an ideal vision of a society in which appearance would visibly correspond to the funds an individual of a particular income and status was allowed to dedicate to clothing himself and his companions. These statutes are interesting to examine alongside the actual purchases made in a courtly household. Study of the inventories can illuminate the statutes’ insistence on delimiting gifts to companions, which were a very significant part of the countess’ expenses. I will also draw on some of the 4 Gilles Lipovetsky, L’Empire de l’8phemHre. La Mode et son destin dans les soci8t8s modernes, Paris 1987, p. 39. 5 Many scholars have assigned a date around 1350 for the “birth of Western Fashion”. For a summary of proponents of this date see Sarah-Grace Heller, Fashion in Medieval France, Woodbridge, Suffolk 2007, pp. 48–54. Paul Post’s thesis arguing for a “revolution” based on the mid-fourteenth century trend towards shorter men’s clothing has been influential, Paul Post, Die französisch-niederländische Männertracht einschließlich der Ritterrüstung im Zeitalter der Spätgotik, 1350–1475. Ein Rekonstruktionsversuch auf Grund der zeitgenössichen Darstellungen, Halle a. d. Saale 1910. 6 Among studies of fashion and dress which have made a dedicated use of inventories, Stella Mary Newton examined some of the earliest surviving continuous English inventories for fashion in the mid-fourteenth century, Stella Mary Newton, Fashion in the Age of the Black Prince: A Study of the Years 1340–1365, Woodbridge 1980; French comital inventories and archives provided sources for MichHle Beaulieu / Jeanne Baylé, Le Costume en Bourgogne de Philippe le Hardi / la mort de Charles le T8m8raire (1364–1477), Paris 1956 and FranÅoise Piponnier, Costume et vie sociale: la cour d’Anjou, XIVe–XVe sie`cle, Paris 1970.

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correspondence included in the Artois archives to examine the process of shopping and how choices and requests were fulfilled.

Mahaut and Her Household Some brief background information to set the stage: Mahaut was born in 1270, daughter of the Capetian count Robert II of Artois. She married Count Otto IVof Burgundy in 1285 at the age of fifteen, and was widowed in 1303 at age thirtythree. She became countess of Artois and peer of France in 1302 when her father died, following Artesian law favoring siblings over grandchildren for succession. Her nephew Robert III of Artois would challenge her claim to the county multiple times, but ultimately the court ruled in her favor and the lands were restored to her.7 Mahaut and her entourage traveled over these lands and to Paris continuously, giving generously along the way in accordance with the mode of royal and aristocratic piety set by Saint Louis and other kings before him, and also maintaining a benevolent presence in her lands, securing loyalty.8 Her household consumed significant quantities of textiles for travel: embroidered velvet saddles, coach furnishings and blankets, horse trappings, riding clothing. Such objects tread a line between utility and status-affirming display, then as now. Their constant renewal suggests fashion rather than treasure: they were deployed constantly rather than protected and preserved for rare occasions. Economy was clearly a concern for her household.9 Her father and husband were valiant warriors, generously following the chivalric ideal celebrated by poets and moralists, not to mention spendthrifts.10 By 1295, Otto was deeply indebted to Lombard and Jewish usurers, so King Philip IV paid his debts and gave his children a pension in return for attaching his lands in Burgundy to the

7 On this trial and the process of recording it, see Emmanuel Poulle, Les Faux de Robert d’Artois et l’histoire de l’8criture, in: Clio et son regard. M8langes Jacques Stiennon, ed. Rita Lejeune / Joseph Deckers, LiHge 1982, pp. 519–534. 8 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 49–52. 9 See the study on the household’s uses of justice, economy, and gouvernance by Christelle Balouzat-Loubet, Le gouvernement de la comtesse Mahaut en Artois (1302–1329), Turnhout 2014. 10 Robert II built extensive pleasure parks and hunting grounds and Mahaut maintained them, and these represent another aspect of their consumption and public appearance that might be studied in terms of fashion, beyond the limits of the present essay. See Sharon Farmer, Aristocratic Power and the ‘Natural’ Landscape: The Garden Park at Hesdin, ca. 1291–1302, Speculum 88.3 (2013), pp. 644–680; Anne Hagopian van Buren, Reality and Literary Romance in the Park of Hesdin, in: Medieval Gardens, ed. Elisabeth B. MacDougall, Washington, DC 1986, pp. 117–134.

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crown.11 The careful recordkeeping to which we owe these surviving documents was arguably a strategy deployed by Mahaut and her household to put this financial situation right, as well as to maintain her authority over the counties in the face of challenges from her nephew, from Flanders, and from other parts. Fashion was expensive, and constantly increasing the level of attractive consumption was proving ruinous to many of her contemporaries. The inventories themselves suggest the need to create controls checking the pressures of fashion. As Bernard Delmaire notes, her archives are by no means perfectly organized (nor were the king’s or anyone else’s for that matter), and so a certain amount of caution regarding their completeness and reliability must be exercised.12 Mahaut was providing for a household of about 30–40 people. Major regular purchases were directed towards her daughters, Blanche and Jeanne, who married King Philip IV’s sons. Purchases for the great beauty, Blanche, cease after her scandalous arrest for adultery in 1314. Jeanne was initially arrested for complicity, but was cleared of the charges and became queen of France when her husband Philip V took the throne, from 1316 to 1322. She remains in the accounts throughout her life. Mahaut lost a son at birth and another in early childhood;13 her son Robert and his companions figure prominently in the accounts, sharing an education and often receiving matching outfits, up to his premature death.14 There were also 10–15 familiars, often clerics, her advisors, various chaplains, her tailor, her treasurer, a laundress, a folet (fool) who was quite well cared for, and multiple knights who received regular wages and clothing. Two or three ladies were the countess’ companions and received clothing but not wages. Around 20 valets had specific household functions working with her houses, kitchens, stables and carriages; they received a shoe allowance.15 In this essay, I would like to apply some questions from fashion theory to these accounts, drawing on criteria defining how a “fashion system” differs from other dominant cultural systems.16 In the past, historians of art, costume, and textiles have used Mahaut’s accounts anecdotally, often to describe specific “fashions” in the sense of trends or ephemeral styles. To give one example, they show a marked 11 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 11f. 12 Bernard Delmaire, Pouvaient-ils se fier / leurs documents comptables? Sur un accord entre le roi Philippe VI et la comtesse Mahaut d’Artois (1329), Revue du Nord 79.322 (1997), pp. 885–896. 13 On this son as well as Mahaut’s visible spending and display in her lands, see the essays in Franc¸ oise Baron / Nicole Brocard / Marie-He´le`ne Lavalle´e, et al. (Ed.), L’enfant oubli8: le gisant de Jean de Bourgogne et le m8c8nat de Mahaut d’Artois en Franche-Comt8 au XIVe siHcle: Mus8e des beaux-arts et d’arch8ologie de BesanÅon, 5 d8cembre 1997 / 24 f8vrier 1998, Besanc¸ on 1997. 14 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 12–16. 15 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 45–48. 16 Heller, Fashion in Medieval France (as n. 5), pp. 15–45.

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“fashion” for striped and what are termed “marbled” woolens, at times used in the “fashion” for parti-colored garments which tailored together two or more contrasting fabrics.17 However, I am interested in probing something different, not so much specific trends as what these records can tell us about attitudes towards courtly consumption in their time. This essay will explore three main questions: 1) the pace of fashion as seen around 1307–1310, examining how frequently wardrobe renewal was expected; 2) the problem of personal choice in fashion in this time and whether gifts constituted fashionable consumption in the way that personal spending would; and 3) the question of taste: whose choices and distinctive sense of style were expressed by clothing distributed at this courtly household level?

Novelty and Rates of Wardrobe Renewal, 1307–1310 Fashion can be defined on one level as a kind of accelerated experience of time in a culture. Objects naturally wear out and need replacement over time, but a fashion system demands replacing them before they are worn out, getting new things because you want to when you don’t actually need them.18 What patterns of time relative to consumption are in evidence in Mahaut’s household? Extant accounts from her father’s reign in the late thirteenth century are patchier with some years missing, which likely does not indicate a lack of purchases. As soon as Mahaut becomes countess, there are fairly uninterrupted accounts for each year. There are multiple junctures in the year when new wardrobes, bedding, and travel equipment were purchased. These included 1) twice a year for the livr8es, the appointed time when new clothing and gear was disbursed to the official members of the household; 2) for special occasions and celebrations, which were also public displays of comital presence and power. Regularly appearing in the household expenses were also 3) gifts, shared particularly when friends and persons of importance visited. During military campaigns, there were additionally 4) war-related purchases for knights. Other purchases were not necessarily attached to regular occasions: this suggests the possibility of purchasing simply for the sake of fashionable novelty. New clothing and often bedding for the household figure every year in the livr8es, the distributions made at Easter in the spring, and at Toussaint (All 17 Jules Quicherat, Histoire du Costume en France, Paris 1877, p. 180; Camille Enlart, Manuel d’arch8ologie franÅaise depuis les temps m8rovingiens jusqu’/ la Renaissance, tome III: Le Costume, Paris 1916, pp. 49, 56; Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 134. 18 Herbert Blumer, Fashion: From Class Differentiation to Collective Selection, Sociological Quarterly 10 (1969), pp. 275–291, here p. 289; Lipovetsky, L’Empire de l’8ph8mHre (as n. 4), pp. 25, 35–37; Heller, Fashion in Medieval France (as n. 5), pp. 17–21.

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Saints’ Day) in the beginning of November. These annual feasts correspond to the change of seasons in northern France, natural junctures for changes in wardrobes. However, the quantities suggest that the livr8es went beyond merely protecting the household from the elements. I think we can safely call this a pattern facilitating constant, systematic change.19 The countess and her son, and usually his companions, receive multiple sets of new robes in a variety of colors: at their level, this certainly qualified as “conspicuous consumption”, to use Thorsten Veblen’s famous term describing the economy of fashion.20 However, rich dress for the highest elites alone does not qualify as fashion. The title of this essay problematizes the notion of “treasure”: treasure is hoarded, whereas fashion entails both consumption of novelty and discarding what is “out of fashion”, items whose splendor is diminished by previous appearances. Such discarding is not readily apparent from the inventories, except perhaps when Mahaut forces her mother-in–law to sell a number of her robes and bed sets in 1304, further settled by the parlement in 1307.21 A full-fledged fashion system is constantly extending possibilities of consumption beyond elites to a broader range of consumers.22 While the accounts do show constant concern for others, a distinct hierarchy is nevertheless maintained. In terms of expenditures for those ranking lower on that household pyramid, gradations are undifferentiated at times. Sometimes the accounts only list large fabric purchases, whole draps (what we would call an entire bolt of cloth), which would have provided sufficient fabric for multiple suits of clothing. In other years, the accounts designate who was to receive what. One example is the Easter livr8e of 1307, here categorized by rank and role at the court: - Countess and son: tiretaines, and pers (less expensive dark cloth) for chausses - Countess: 2 Irish saies from Saint-Omer for a summer robe - Knights: wool from Malines - Clercs: muisis from Malines - Senior valets (officers of hitel): yraignes, extra-fine wool from Ypres and Ghent, and dras roi8s, striped wool - Junior valets: Ypres woolens - Huntsmen, falconers: camelin for cotardies - Jeanne, Robert’s laundress: camelin for a lined robe23 19 Lipovetsky, L’Empire de l’8ph8mHre (as n. 4), p. 31. 20 Thorsten Veblen, Theory of the Leisure Class: An Economic Study of Institutions, London 1899 [reprint ed. Charles Wright Mills, New Brunswick 1992], pp. 122–125. 21 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 132–133; A 193, A 207. 22 Heller, Fashion in Medieval France (as n. 5), pp. 42–45; Lipovetsky, L’Empire de l’8ph8mHre (as n. 4), p. 47; William Graham Sumner, Folkways: A Study of the Sociological Importance of Usages, Manners, Customs, Mores and Morals, New York 1906, p. 194. 23 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 134.

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The knights and the clercs (the chaplains and secretaries of the Countess) received distinctly different types of woolens. Yraigne, a term that evokes spider webs,24 would be more suited for deskwork than the sturdier stuffs active knights would need. The elder most trusted servants of the household stood out with stripes; the petits valets seem differentiated by clothes of plainer cloth. The outdoorsmen and the laundress receive camelin, a finer double-faced woolen, not necessarily showy but rich, serviceable, and long wearing.25 The countess Mahaut and her son Robert received distinctive textiles in this instance: tiretaine, a fabric that was a specialty of Paris,26 and Irish saie, a type of woolen.27 Quantities and recipients vary significantly from holiday to holiday ; there is no codified allotment pattern. These early fourteenth-century livr8es contrast with the carefully matched suits of clothing blazoned with court’s emblems and signature colors visible in courts of the early modern period. The variability makes it clear that we should not imagine these courtiers as “uniformed”. It is not clear exactly what motivated particular purchases for particular individuals. It was probably some combination of an individual or group’s need, desire on the part of superiors to reward certain persons, requests on the part of the courtiers for certain items, and what could be found available at the right price point and quality at the markets. Three years later, for Easter 1310, we see the members of Mahaut’s court adding variety to their wardrobes. This list included: - Countess and knights: 17 camelins from Saint-Omer - Robert: striped scarlet; wool stripe with two white bars from Ypres; 9 aunes of checkered wool for a wardecors assanl8s (a pieced protective garment) - Clercs: 9 draps pourpens8s from Ypres - Junior valets: green wool and striped wool lined in vair (squirrel backs and bellies), lamb, pope, and rabbit furs - Perrinet the Dwarf: chemises, bedcover, set of striped garments

24 Fr8d8ric Godefroy, Dictionnaire de l’ancienne langue franÅaise et de tous ses dialects du IXe au XVe siHcle, 10 vols, Paris 1881–1902, s.v. yragne, araigne. The term appears in the records of Burgundy as a wool cloth from the Belgian city of Malines, L8on Emmanuel S. J. Laborde, Les ducs de Bourgogne, 8tudes sur les lettres, les arts et l’industrie pendant le XVe siHcle, Paris 1849, p. 75. 25 Godefroy, Dictionnaire (as n. 24), s.v. camelin, notes that it was often a blend of sheep and goat wool, sometime also with silk. Thirteenth-century craft statutes from Paris and Ch.lons-sur-Marne required that it be yarn-dyed. 26 Sharon Farmer, Biffes, Tiretaines, and AumoniHres: The Role of Paris in the International Textile Markets of the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries, Medieval Clothing and Textiles 2 (2006), pp. 73–89, here pp. 75–78. 27 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 134. On saie see Mark Chambers / Elizabeth Coatsworth, Say, in: Encyclopedia of Medieval Dress and Textiles of the British Isles c. 450–1450, ed. Gale R. Owen-Crocker / Elizabeth Coatsworth / Maria Hayward, Leiden 2012, pp. 476f.

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- Ladies: gardecorps (short overgowns) of marbr8 wool; wool cloches (hooded cloaks) lined in cendal (silk)28 Mahaut and her knights appear to receive matching robes of camelin, while her young son, now 10 years old, received several more distinctively patterned pieces. The younger men of the household also seem to have been flashier dressers, wearing brighter green29 and stripes. The enumeration of vair, lamb, pope, and rabbit furs is interesting. Was this to make distinctively patterned linings, or were different furs to be distributed to different individuals? As the vair was a luxury fur and the others were economy varieties, it is likely the lamb, pope and rabbit were used to line less visible areas of garments.30 The inventories show the priority of display frequently tempered with frugality. Gender provides a significant category for group purchases, along with status, but the correlation to economy and frugality varies from year to year. It is worth noting that in the spring of 1310 Mahaut’s ladies appear to receive less clothing than the men, just new garments that would have to be layered over older ones, providing a modest measure of wardrobe renewal with less expenditure than full robes and mantels would require. In November of this same year, women received a bit more attention, receiving gifts of fine silk tiretaine from the Champagne fair town of Provins for robes.31 The Toussaint livr8e included: - Countess: 26 aunes of silk tiretaine of Provins, 12 aunes of pers (dark blue) tiretaine dyed in grain, 33 ounces of black cendal for lining; 2 pelissons of vair (one bellies, one backs) covered in cendal, with 2 dozen buttons; 54 aunes of canvas for a tent; wool to reupholster her chamber ; red linen for a bed canopy ; 8 aunes of pers for a round surcot… - Three wives of familiars: 66 aunes of Flemish tiretaine from Provins for full sets of robes - Robert: 2 pelissons (fur-lined over-garments) in green and red cendal with silver buttons; a corset (short surcot) and a brassiHre - Squires of the Pr8vit of Aire: striped wool for 8 corsets

28 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 137–138. 29 Note that Michel Pastoureau associates the medieval color green with youth (symbolizing renewal), which appears to be the case here since it is seen uniquely on Mahaut’s young son. Michel Pastoureau, Vert: Histoire d’une couleur, Paris 2013. 30 Pope was an economy fur, used by the thousands. It is unclear whether it was a type of squirrel or some other animal, but Robert Delort produces evidence to suggest the term refers to pelts taken during spring and autumn hunts when the fur was changing color, thus fur in shades of grey tending towards red-brown. Robert Delort, Le commerce des fourrures en Occident / la fin du Moyen Age, vol. 2, Rome 1978, pp. 45–50. 31 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 138.

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- Lady Ysabel, getting married: furs, bedcover, linen for sheets and underclothes, a serge (twill), a set of robes in red scarlet For Robert and the squires of Aire, attention is given to the details of surcots and corsets, but this time for male members of the household as well as for women. Mahaut seems again to have preferred dark clothing for winter this year, while Robert was in brighter red and green. He was already needing military garments, such as the brassiere, which offered arm padding. Note that red was a wedding color. In short, these lists extensively show that there was regular consumption of new items at the court of Artois and that there was a significant variety : there is evidence of a constant demand for novelty.

Personal Choice and Distinction A fashion system privileges individual expression by offering the possibility of making small choices of details differentiating one’s appearance from those of others.32 The livr8e system begs the question of whether individual expression was possible if a superior was the one choosing the clothing. As the above examples suggest, at times the countess and her knights were dressed alike, in the same type of wool. This was true on certain state occasions, for instance. For her son-in–law King Philip V’s consecration in 1317, the entire household wore red, although Robert and his companions’ robes were particolored red with stripes.33 For the consecration of King Philip VI of Valois in 1328, Mahaut wore marbled violet lined in black cendal, and her household wore violet wool.34 Should we imagine this courtly group as somehow uniformed? Cinematic costume designers often portray a court’s knights in this way, as anonymous lackeys or storm troopers. However, military uniforms as now conceived only emerge in the seventeenth century.35 Medieval images typically differentiate people in a group by garment color, giving the general impression that a wide variety of colors was a norm for most gatherings. This could be a mere convention of illustration, but usually such conventions must be at least partly anchored in a reality imaginable to the audience. Over time, multiple colors were delivered at court, and when the novelty items were surcots, they were paired with cotes (under tunics) and 32 Jean Baudrillard, La Soci8t8 de la consummation, Paris 1970, pp. 128, 181; Blumer, Fashion (as n. 18), p. 289; Heller, Fashion in Medieval France (as n. 5), pp. 21–32. 33 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 143; A 351. 34 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 151; A 474. 35 Geoffrey Parker, The Military Revolution: Military Innovation and the Rise of the West, 1500–1800, Cambridge 21999.

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mantles obtained at other times. Color variety would have been possible at this court on an ordinary day, but it seems there were efforts to present a unified appearance on special occasions. Dressing her men like herself expanded Mahaut’s fashionable surface area as countess and peer in times of great crowds and public display, visually demonstrating her power and influence as well as her taste. On less ceremonious occasions, however, I believe that individuals had more freedom to distinguish themselves. This would have been even more possible for the men who received wages and would have had spending money, notably her familiers who received eight deniers per day in addition to clothing: for instance, her clercs and priests Guillaume d’Arbois, Jean d’Orl8ans, Henri de Reims, Jean de Blandi, Philippe Sebire; and other trusted men such as Jean and Arthur de Lambres, Jacques de Lille, Hugues de Fouvent, Guillaume de Passat, Perrin de Saint-Moris, Robert d’HireÅon, one Lancelot, and her tailor Guillaume de Neanhon, among others. Certain knights and high-ranking clercs in her service received more, 8–10 sous per day. For the period up to 1313, that group included the knights Simon de Cinq-Ormes and Hugues de Cromary, as well as Girard de Haute-Oreille, who was a canon, physician, and the executor of her late husband’s will. Valets in her service were paid a “shoe allowance” (indemnit8 de chaussure) of three sous per person per month.36 This close connection of wages and clothing and footwear underscores the importance of clothing at court and suggests the extent to which some men were permitted some freedom of choice in their consumption. The 1294 sumptuary law of Philip IV, to whom Mahaut was connected intimately through her lineage as well as through daughters’ marriages, contained provisions both for gifts to companions and for squires and knights dressing themselves, limiting the numbers which could be purchased per year according to status and income.37 Statute 7 tried to limit the number of new robes, specifying that it did not matter whether they were purchased or received as gifts (Item. Tous chevaliers n’auront que deux paires de robes tant seulement, ne par 36 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 44f. 37 Athanase Jean L8ger Jourdan / Decrusy / FranÅoise-Andr8 Isambert (Ed.) Recueil g8n8ral des anciennes lois franÅaises, vol. 2: 1270–1308, Paris 1822, pp. 697–700. Some of the initial items spell out the status levels and the expectation that wardrobes would be renewed on an annual basis: 4. Item. Li duc, li comte, li baron de six mille livres de terre, ou de plus, pourront faire quatre robes par an, et non plus, et les femmes autant. (Dukes, counts, barons having six thousand livres of land or more will be allowed to make four robes a year, and no more, and the same for the women.) 5. Item. Nuls chevaliers ne donra a nuls de ses compagnons, que deux paires de robes par an. (No knight will give more than two pairs of robes a year to his companions.) 6. Item. Tous prelats auront tant seulement deux paires de robes par an. (All prelates shall have only two pairs of robes a year). See also Sarah-Grace Heller, Anxiety, Hierarchy, and Appearance in Thirteenth-Century Sumptuary Laws and the Romance of the Rose, French Historical Studies 27.2 (2004), pp. 311–348.

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don, ne par achat, ne par autre maniere). Statute 17 prohibited counts and barons from giving their companions robes costing more than 18 sous per Parisian aune, whereas the counts and barons themselves were allowed six new sets of garments (Statute 4), without limits on yardage prices. The price limits would have been out of date a decade later, but it is clear that the idea that the dependents of the household should receive clothing costing less than the countess was in vigor, even when the colors are matched. Note that the sumptuary laws made it more advantageous to receive clothing in a household than by purchasing it on one’s own, and moreover better in a great household (a baron’s) than in a modest one (e. g. a banneret’s, ch.telain’s, or a prelate’s).38 The permitted prices were higher for livr8es than for personal shopping. Knights and squires received cloth of higher quality and/or fashion value when dressed by a superior.39 The sumptuary laws imply that clercs and squires had a choice whether to clothe themselves or be clothed. Those in power, from the king to his barons, favored the livr8e system because gifts bound their trusted people to them in loyalty. The matching cloth and garments suggested in these inventories shows that the livr8e system was also favored for the visual solidarity it could furnish on occasions of group display. Gifts and personal choices were in tension in this period.

Making Personal Choices: The Shopping Process One of the things the accounts offer is a glimpse into the logistics of shopping in northern France in the early fourteenth century. Shopping is now perceived (by some, at least!) as a pleasurable activity in a fashion system. As I have discussed elsewhere, there is evidence of interest in shopping in French texts from the late twelfth century onwards.40 In a livr8e system, however, who was really making the choices? Whose personal taste do cloth and garment choices reflect, if anyone’s? Who chose the clothing? Was it an arbiter of fashion or someone else, perhaps an accountant? Here is a condensed list showing the mechanics of shopping in the Artois household:

38 Compare statute 18, Li bannerets et li chastelain, ne pourront avoir robes pour leur corps de plus de dix-huit sols tournois l’aune de Paris, et les femmes / ce feur. Et pour les compaignons de quinze sols l’aune de Paris (Bannerets and castellans will not be allowed to have robes for their bodies worth more than eighteen tournois sols per Parisian aune, and the same for their wives. And for their companions, no more than fifteen sols per aune). 39 Statute 21 limited squires who were not attached to a household to cloth costing less than 10 sous tournois per aune. 40 Heller, Fashion in Medieval France (as n. 5), pp. 148–171.

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- Treasurer : often a chaplain, gives accounts at Chandeleur, Ascension, Toussaint; at times was sent to procure cloth and materials.41 - Officers of the hitel, called valets de mestiers, were each responsible for six types of purchases. Note that cloth, clothing, and accessories were not the dedicated responsibility of one particular valet de mestier in the household: 1. panneterie= bread 2. bouteillerie= drink 3. cuisine= cooking 4. fruiterie= fresh produce and household lighting 5. la fourriHre= bedding and transportation 6. 8curie= stables - Tailors: At times, the resident tailor procures draps and materials, along with being responsible for cutting, styling, and maintaining clothing.42 - Ladies: AgnHs de Ch.tillon purchases Mahaut’s toiletries, accessories, and gifts such as aumonieres, belts, headwear, mercerie. There were gender divisions for shopping: men handled the large purchases, and women handled smaller but more frequent purchases of accessories, coifs, veils, and decorative supplies (embroidery materials, for instance). The treasurer was an educated man, often a clerc or chaplain, though not necessarily a man of the cloth (several were married). He paid the bills and kept up the correspondence with the merchants. On several occasions, treasurers were sent to one of the Artesian cloth towns, such as Arras or Saint-Omer, or Flemish towns, such as Ypres or Malines, to procure the yard goods for the livr8e. This was a privileged position, one that required a great deal of trust given the large amounts of funds to manage (ranging from 4,000 to 41,000 pounds per year), and it is clear that these were men Mahaut held in confidence.43 There were surely conversations about her desires as she sent them on commissions; they must have been men whose taste and financial sense she trusted. For the daily provisions for the household, there were six officers called valets de mestiers. The above examples show that they were dressed distinctly in stripes, standing apart from the lesser servants in plain colors. There were also less formal shopping arrangements, such as the arrangement 41 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 44; In her father’s time, records show various lieutenants sent to execute purchases, p. 127. 42 For example, around 1300 the tailor Oudin or Oudart was responsible for significant textile purchases, as well as making or providing numerous hats. In 1302, the tailor Philippe de Neanhon purchased cloth of gold and fur linings. In 1303, he bought tiretaines and camelots. In 1315 Phelippot the tailor bought plumed velvet hats as well as night caps, and textiles for the ladies’ bed at the Lendit fair. Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 130f, 142; A 193. 43 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 44.

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with the Lady AgnHs de Ch.tillon whom Mahaut trusted with more feminine purchases for her own person, such as thousands of hairpins, as well as bibelots and joiaus given as gifts.44 Such accessories – bags, belts, brooches, hair fastenings and veils – constituted a place for individual expression in this period. Robes were expensive and less discardable, but the placement and display of more easily obtained and changed accessories afforded some possibility of distinction within the limits of the need to follow the general silhouette. While such gifts advertised Mahaut’s largesse, their use and arrangement could also potentially express personal taste. There are some letters in the archives that hint at the conversations that might have taken place. Young Robert, only 10 or 11 but clearly a count in training, sends these instructions to Bertoul de Bengy, the Artois collections agent, related to the tiretaines purchased for All Saints’ in 1310, seen above. Note that this was six months out from the accounting performed at All Saints’, showing that purchases happened on a rolling basis. Beroul, nous vous prions que vous, par le porteeur de ces lettres, nous envoiez une tiretaine bonne et fine, de la meilleur coleur que vous porrez trouver, mais que ele ne soit blanche, pour la fame Denis / qui monsgr la veut donner, pour ce qu’elle est sa commHre, et la nous envoiez par le porteeur de ces lettres, Nostres Sires vous gart. Donn8 / Hedin le XI jour de may. De par Henri de BeÅon chevalier et Jehan de Villefaut.45

Robert requests a specific type of fabric and specifies high quality, but trusts the color to the agent, with the only caveat that it not be white. Whether this was an indirect request from the wife herself or a surprise gift from the men in her life is up to conjecture. The letter demonstrates the extent and limits of personal choice in this time. We share some of them today : we are still obliged to choose from the fabrics available on the market, making purchases within the restricted framework of the season’s offerings. This letter demonstrates that this court in the fourteenth century was a significant distance from a world in which a woman would weave her own fabric for the season. Such freedoms within a context of market and social status constraints are marks of a fashion system.

44 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 46, 156f. 45 Bertoul, we ask that you send us a fine quality tiretaine by the intermediary of the messenger carrying these letters, in the best color you can find, but not white. My lord would like to give it to Denis [of HireÅon]’s wife, since she is his godmother. Send it by the carrier of these letters, God keep you. Sent from Hesdin, the 11th of May, by Sir Henri de BeÅon and Jean de Villefaut. Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), p. 138; A 274. Translation by Heller.

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Conclusions There is a great deal more to probe in this archive and to compare with other documents in order to gain insight into the experiences of consumption in this period, which still lies before the date many have accepted as the “birth of Western Fashion” around 1350. Christian de M8rindol has remarked that the livr8e system deserves its own study,46 and I think this is still true. This study cannot begin to address the Artois inventory materials comprehensively, but can only invite further scrutiny and consideration. New clothing was available in Mahaut d’Artois’ household on a frequent, regular basis. There was a clear demand for novelty, if not at the rate offered now, then at a rate gradually accelerating since the growth of urban and courtly markets beginning in the twelfth century. Quantities and quality made visible a hierarchy that kept the countess and her heir at the top, spreading out to several strata of importance at court and extending broadly to even the poorest of the county. Everyone in Mahaut’s household received something at one moment or another ; she also undertook significant distributions of shoes and simple garments to the poor on a regular basis.47 Was fashion already a “democratizing” force, extending consumption to a greater and greater public, and allowing arbiters of taste from a broad range of social classes the possibility of social ascension through their attractive choices of display?48 The way that the livr8e system holds such possibilities for fashionable choices in check might be a reaction to the great barons’ perception of a threat to their place in the hierarchy, anxieties evidenced by the careful limits set on annual consumption according to status articulated in French royal sumptuary laws. Beyond the taste of the household member assigned with the task of purchasing, choices for the household were limited to what cloth merchants chose to stock and, moreover, to the style choices of various bourgeois merchants and artisans. Choices were complex corporate acts, in short, and never really the whim of a single individual. It is commonplace that aristocratic taste dominated medieval and early modern fashion, but the reality is more complex. Taste crossed status lines. Nobles might request a color or textile, but the treasurers and “familiars” doing the shopping were constrained to select from what bourgeois merchants could offer. 46 Christian de Mérindol, Couleur, 8toffe et politique / la fin du Moyen Age. Les couleurs du roi et les couleurs d’une cour ducale, in: Recherches sur l’8conomie de la France medieval: les voies fluviales. La Draperie. Actes du 112e congress national des societies savantes (Lyon, 1987), Paris 1989. pp. 221–249. 47 Richard, Mahaut (as n. 2), pp. 69–80. 48 On the notion of fashion as a democratizing force, Lipovetsky, L’Empire de l’8ph8mHre (as n. 4), p. 47.

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Mahaut d’Artois’ inventories and other contemporary documents show that textiles and clothing coded status, which even a ten-year-old baron’s son was trained to recognize and direct. However, in their ever-increasing variety, these textiles and articles of clothing also afforded more and more room for personal expression, if more in the choice of layers and small details than in the choice of cloth.

Lisa Monnas

Reading English Royal Inventories: Furnishings and Clothing in the Inventory of King Henry V (r. 1413–1422)

Interpreting medieval inventories poses manifold challenges. Apart from the inherent obstacles of obscure terminology and arcane measurements and currencies,1 questions remain as to why particular objects, or classes of objects, were chosen for inclusion or exclusion. To take a well-known published example, the inventory of John, Duke of Bedford (1389–1435) (Image 4.1.), records a dazzling assortment of jewels, plate, tapestries and chapel goods, yet, apart from some furs, contains no secular clothing.2 The inventory of Henry VIII (r. 1509–1547) (Image 4.2.), which covers twenty-four of his residences, is one of the most comprehensive of all late medieval inventories. Yet even this does not provide a complete view of the clothing belonging to the king at his death. It would appear, for example, that he owned a selection of rich outer garments and sixty embroidered shirts, but, understandably, none of his linen breeches (underwear) were recorded, and, perhaps less understandably, almost no footwear.3 These 1 English Medieval Currency : There were 12 pennies (denarii) to a shilling, and 20 shillings (soldi) or 240 pennies to one pound sterling (librum / £1). The mark was equivalent to two thirds of a pound: 13 s 4d. £1 sterling in 1420 was equivalent to £469 35p in 2005, and it would be worth more today, see National Archives, currency converter : www.nationalarchives.gov. uk/currency/). Measurements: In fifteenth-century England the verge and the yard both denoted a measurement of 36 inches (91 cm); an English ell (sometimes called by the French term aune) was measured on five quarters of a yard, making it 45 inches (114.3 cm); hence “six quarters of an ell” in the 1423 inventory indicated 54 inches or 137.5 cm, see R. D. Connor, The Weights and Measures of England, London 1987, pp. 94f. Usage could be inconsistent: a law of 1411 concerning cloth measurements used aunes and verges interchangeably, Ronald E. Zupko, British Weights and Measures: A History from Antiquity to the Seventeenth Century, Madison 1977, p. 61. 2 Jenny Stratford (Ed.), The Bedford Inventories: The Worldly Goods of John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France (1389–1435), London 1993; for omissions of tapestries from the Bedford inventory, see Thomas P. Campbell, Henry VIII and the Art of Majesty : Tapestries at the Tudor Court, New Haven/London 2007, pp. 32f. 3 David Starkey (Ed.), The Inventory of Henry VIII: Society of Antiquaries MS 129 and British Library MS Harley 1419, vol. I: The Transcript, transcription Philip Ward, index Alasdair Hawkyard, London 1998; for Henry VIII’s clothing, Maria Hayward, Dressed to Rule: Henry VII’s Wardrobe and his equipment for Horse, Hawk and Hound, in: The Inventory of King

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examples are typical of the conundrum of studying textiles from post-mortem inventories, which, although they offer rich seams of information, routinely contain significant omissions depending upon the various intentions of the compilers and the availability of material. One advantage of working with an English royal inventory is that many wardrobe accounts and other relevant documents have been preserved, providing valuable contextual material. This is particularly true of an inventory made in 1423 that records a selection of Henry V’s possessions (Image 4.3.). This inventory will be the focus of this paper. Henry V’s inventory was never intended to be a comprehensive record of all of his moveable goods, but was compiled after his death with a particular agenda of evaluating possessions suitable to be sold or released to creditors in order to offset the Crown’s debts. The plate, jewels and tapestries in this inventory have already been carefully examined, but the other furnishings, especially the linens and the clothing, have received less attention.4 As it is beyond the scope of this paper to evaluate all of the remaining textiles, the following discussion will consider a selection of secular furnishings (including linens and some tapestries) and clothing. From 1415 onwards, Henry V campaigned almost continuously in France, pursuing the English royal claim to the French throne. He laid siege to the town of Meaux on 31 August 1421 and the city surrendered on 9 March 1422. By that time, however, he had already fallen sick, and he died less than six months later on 31 August 1422, at the Ch.teau de Vincennes, near Paris. He left behind an infant son, Henry VI (born 6 December 1421), and a regency divided between his brothers Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester (1390–1447), in England, and the Duke of Bedford in France. Money had been raised for the French campaigns by imposing taxes and raising loans based on pledging royal possessions. At Henry’s death, many pledged items were still outstanding, with the result that the 1423 inventory was not a complete list and that a comprehensive list of the royal possessions from that date does not exist.5 Henry VIII Volume II: Textiles and Dress, ed. Eadem / Philip Ward, London 2012, pp. 67–107, esp. shirts p. 80. 4 For the plate and jewels, Jenny Stratford, Richard II and the English Royal Treasure, Woodbridge 2012, pp. 121–217, and Appendix 9, pp. 423–424; for the tapestries, Scot McKendrick, Tapestries from the Low Countries in England During the Fifteenth Century, in: England and the Low Countries in the Late Middle Ages, ed. Caroline Barron / Nigel Saul, New York/Stroud 1995, pp. 43–60, esp. p. 49; Thomas P. Campbell, The art and splendour of Henry VIII’s tapestry collection, in: Inventory of King Henry VIII Volume II (as n. 3), pp. 9–66, esp. pp. 12f. 5 See “The Agincourt campaign and its aftermath” in Stratford, Richard II (as n. 4), pp. 121–127, and Appendix 9, pp. 423–424; Eadem, ‘Par le special commandement du Roy’. Jewels and Plate pledged for the Agincourt expedition in: Henry V: New Interpretations, ed. Gwilym Dodd, Woodbridge 2013, pp. 157–170.

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Image 4.1. John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford kneeling in prayer before St George (detail), The Bedford Hours Paris, c. 1419–1430, 26,5x18,5 cm. T The British Library Board, Additional MS. 18850, fol. 256v.

Following Henry V’s death, the council initially provided that his executors should reserve all of the king’s movable goods for his successor. In December 1422, however, the council ordered 40,000 marks, equivalent to £27,7506 worth of jewels and goods to be ‘used for the fulfillment of his will’, of which 19,000 marks were to be paid to the executors of Henry IV’s will to discharge the previous outstanding debt. On 26 August 1423, goods amounting to £18,404 were released to the executors: these are the items listed in the inventory of Henry V.7 The inventory itself is part of an indenture made between the Lord High Treasurer of

6 For currency values, see n. 1 above. 7 Chris Given-Wilson (Gen. Ed.), The Parliament Rolls of Medieval England 1275–1504, vol. 10: Henry VI 1422–1431, ed. Anne Curry, Woodbridge 2005, pp. 111–162, esp. pp. 110–111, 162 (henceforth abbreviated to “1423 inventory”); Patrick Strong / Felicity Strong, The Last Will and codicils of Henry V, The English Historical Review 96 (1981), pp. 79–102, p. 86.

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Image 4.2. Hans Holbein the Younger, workshop or associate of, Henry VIII, c. 1540–1545, oil on panel, 237,9x134 cm. Liverpool, Walker Art Gallery, WAG 1350. Courtesy National Museums Liverpool.

England, John Stafford,8 and eight executors of Henry V’s will,9 a legal document recording the handover of this portion of the king’s estate by Stafford. Unlike the great survey of Henry VIII’s possessions, the goods sequestered in 1423 do not

8 John Stafford (d. 1452), lord privy seal to Henry V 1421; lord high treasurer to Henry VI December, 1422; bishop of Bath and Wells, 1425; archbishop of Canterbury, 1443. 9 The full list of executors consisted of: Henry Beaufort, bishop of Winchester ; Humphrey, duke of Gloucester ; Thomas Beaufort, duke of Exeter; Henry Percy, earl of Northumberland; Ralph Neville, earl of Westmorland; Richard de Beauchamp, earl of Warwick; Thomas Percy, earl of Worcester; Thomas Langley, bishop of Durham; John, Lord Clifford; John Wilcotes; Henry, Lord Fitzhugh; Sir Walter Hungerford; Sir Walter Beauchamp; Sir Louis Robesart; Sir William Porter ; Sir Robert Babthorpe; John Woodhouse; John Leventhorpe; the last eight (Fitzhugh–Leventhorpe) were parties to the 1423 indenture with Stafford.

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Image 4.3. Thomas Hoccleve, kneeling, presenting his book to Prince Henry of Lancaster (afterwards King Henry V of England), Regement of Princes, London, c. 1411–1413, 29x18,5 cm. T The British Library Board, Arundel 38f.37.

represent Henry V’s active lifestyle: items such as his tents,10 armour and weapons are not included. The inventory does, however, offer an evocative glimpse of contemporary courtly furnishings, including tapestry hangings, embroidered cloths of estate, carpets, silk cushions, table linen and chapel goods. Unlike the Bedford inventory previously mentioned, there is also a selection of clothing ranging from superb embroidered gowns and elaborate hoods to mundane linen breeches. The goods are listed by type in four principal locations: in the Great Wardrobe and in the prince’s wardrobe in London, in the Tower of London, and

10 There are just two tents which had belonged to Henry Scrope: 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 1076.

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further afield, at Windsor Castle. Some items had been brought back from Caen11 and from Meaux in France.12 Over seventeen people compiled the lists that are collated in the indenture, drawn not only from officers of the royal household, but also from men who were relatives and supporters of Henry Vand of his heir, some of whom were also their creditors. William Estfeld (d. 1446) was a wealthy London mercer who supplied the court with fabrics13 and was also a major lender of finance to the Crown. Under Henry VI, he became mayor of London in 1429/30 and was knighted in 1439.14 In 1423, Estfeld held a selection of precious metalwork, including jewelled clothing and accessories. Henry Beaufort (1375–1447), the bishop of Winchester and Henry V’s uncle, had several items of metalwork in his charge, as well as some ecclesiastical furnishings and vestments and a few items of secular clothing. Beaufort served both Henry IV (r. 1400–1413) and Henry V as chancellor of England (1403–04 and 1413–17, respectively). In 1404, he became Bishop of Winchester, the richest episcopal see in England, and was made cardinal by Pope Martin V (r. 1417–1431) in 1426.15 Beaufort, who survived well into the reign of Henry VI, lent money to all three of the Lancastrian kings whom he served.16 At Henry V’s death, he was owed £20,149 5d.17 By 1423, Beaufort had been partly paid off, but the Crown was still indebted to him. Among the compilers drawn from the royal household, the following six men had charge of textiles and clothing listed in the inventory.18 Robert Rolleston, Keeper of the Great Wardrobe, held jewels and plate, along with textile remnants, some tapestries, vestments and very little clothing. William Somercotes, Yeoman of the King’s Robes, was in charge not only of clothing, but also of maintaining the tents in France.19 His two lists contain many garments and textile remnants, 11 Goods from Caen: 19 worsted coverlets, 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 707 and 708. 12 Goods from Meaux in the 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 174–235, 248–261, 853–884, 936. 13 E. g. The National Archives, Kew (henceforth abbreviated to “TNA”), E101/407/13, fol. 9v, account book of Robert Rolleston, 1 September 1422–31 August 1424. 14 The Oxford Dictionary of National Biography from the earliest times to the year around 2000, ed. Henry C. G. Matthew / Brian Harrison (henceforth abbreviated to “ODNB”), vol. 17, Oxford 2004, [with additions online], pp. 589–590. 15 Kenneth B. McFarlane, Henry V, ‘Bishop Beaufort and the Red Hat, 1417–21’, in: Idem, England in the Fifteenth century : Collected Essays, London 1981, pp. 79–113. 16 For Henry Beaufort’s loans to Henry V, see Idem, Loans to the Lancastrian Kings: The Problem of Inducement, in: England in the Fifteenth Century (as n. 15), pp. 57–78, esp. pp. 71–72 and 74–75; Christopher Allmand, Henry V, London 1992, pp. 161, 341–343, 396–398. 17 Kenneth B. McFarlane, At the Deathbed of Cardinal Beaufort, in: England in the Fifteenth Century (as n. 15), pp. 115–137, esp. p. 122. 18 The following people were also in charge of goods listed in the inventory, Roger Assent, keeper of the king’s beds at Windsor ; John Fereby, treasurer of the household; Geoffrey Howell, keeper of the king’s beds in the Tower of London; Sir William Phillipps, keeper of the wardrobe of the household and treasurer at war; various others (some unnamed). 19 On June 24 1421, Somercotes was commissioned to bring thirty-four tailors to Normandy to

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as well as some furs. Thomas Est, Yeoman of the Wardrobe of Beds, had in his care some fine furnishings and clothing, including tapestries and table linen.20 John Stout, Keeper of the King’s Cloths of Arras and Tapicerie, was in charge of tapestries and other furnishings stored in the prince’s wardrobe.21 Richard Wright, Sergeant of the Hall, held a small group of elegant ceremonial furnishings, including several cloths of estate.22 William Peek, Clerk of the Spicery, had charge of table linens as well as spices.23 As officers in the royal household, with Richard Rolleston the most senior among them, all these men had expertise in listing the different materials in their charge. All of the items in the inventory were given an estimated value by a team of five experts from the City of London. These experts consisted of two goldsmiths, John Wynne24 and John Palyng,25 a tapicer John Bullock,26 and two mercers, John Church and Hugh Dyke. Like Estfeld, both Dyke and Church supplied the royal household with fabrics, including some of the cloths of gold offered at Henry V’s funeral.27 Hugh Dyke dealt not only in wool cloth and imported silks, but also in embroidered vestments.28 In 1447, Cardinal Beaufort bequeathed to Winchester Cathedral a set of embroidered vestments purchased from Dyke, which he evidently considered so precious that he stipulated that they should be used only by the Bishop of Winchester, or, if by someone else, only when officiating in the presence of the king, queen, or the firstborn son of the king.29

20 21 22 23 24 25 26

27

28

29

maintain the king’s tents there, Calendar of the Patent Rolls preserved in the Public Record office [henceforth abbreviated to “CPR”], Henry V, vol 2: 1416–1422, London 1911, p. 387. For Thomas Est, CPR (as n. 19), Henry VI, 1422–1429, London 1901, pp. 35 and 348. The prince’s wardrobe, so-named because it once belonged to Edward the Black Prince (1330–1376), was situated between the Old Jewry and Ironmonger Lane, Howard M. Colvin, ed., History of the King’s Works, vol 2: The Middle Ages, London 1963, pp. 981–982. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 917–921. Ibid., items 922–938. This was John Wynne “the older”, see Stratford, The Bedford Inventories (as n. 2), p. 430. See CPR (as n. 19), Henry V, vol 1: 1413–1416, London 1910, p. 266. Tapicer could refer to a dealer in tapestries, but also to a maker: see, for example the payments to five hom’ tapicer for repairing pieces of arras and tapicerie from Windsor, account book of Robert Rolleston, 21 March 1420–20 March 1422, TNA (as n. 13), E 101/407/ 4, fol. 74r. Dyke supplying Henry V with silks in 1420, CPR (as n. 19), Henry V, 1416–1422 (as n. 19), p. 266; Dyke and Church supplying fabrics to Henry VI, 1422–1423, TNA (as n. 13), E101/ 407/13, fol. 9r and 9v ; 1440–1441, TNA (as n. 13), E101/409/6, fol. 7v ; Dyke purchasing silks imported by Italian merchants, Helen Bradley, The views of the hosts of alien merchants in London 1440–1444, Woodbridge 2012, pp. 9, 37, 38, 58, 60, 62, 66 and 96. For Hugh Dyke, see Stratford, The Bedford Inventories (as n. 2), pp. 409f.; see also Anne F. Sutton, The Mercery of London: Trade, Goods and People 1130–1578, Aldershot 2005, pp. 204–205; also, Gerald L. Harriss, Cardinal Beaufort. A Study of Lancastrian Ascendancy and Decline, Oxford 1988, pp. 243, 266, 287 (see notes), 365 (see notes). […] vestimentum meum integrum totaliter inbroudatum quod emi ab Hugoni Dyke […], see the Will of Cardinal Beaufort in John Nichols (Ed.), A Collection of All the Wills now known

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In the inventory, the most valuable items of jewels and plate were listed first, followed by an assortment of clothing and furnishings. Some items had been inherited or had come from disgraced owners whose estates were forfeit to the Crown. There was, for example, a tapestry cloth of estate displaying the arms of King Richard II (r. 1377–1399).30 Some of the tapestries bore the arms of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, the youngest son of Edward III, who had died in 1397, murdered on the orders of Richard II.31 There were also items which had formerly belonged to Henry, third Baron Scrope of Masham (1376–1415). Scrope had been treasurer of England in 1410–1411, but was arrested on the orders of Henry V and executed for high treason in 1415. He died a wealthy man, and an inventory was made of his possessions.32 The royal inventory of 1423 contains many of Scrope’s belongings, including tapestry hangings, beds and vestments, as well as clothing and pieces of fabric.33 One of the cloths of gold offered at Henry V’s funeral on 7 November 1422 came from the Scrope estate.34 In his will, Henry bequeathed a Scrope bed35 of arras with scenes of hawking to his uncle Thomas Beaufort, Duke of Exeter (c. 1377–1426).36

30 31

32 33

34 35 36

to be extant of the Kings and Queens of England, Princess and Princesses of Wales and every branch of the Blood Royal, from the reign of William the Conqueror, to that of Henry the Seventh exclusive, London 1780, pp. 321–344, esp. p. 325 (cited by Harriss, Cardinal Beaufort (as n. 28), p. 413, n. 9; the phrase vestimentum meum integrum implies a whole set: in Thomas Beaufort, duke of Exeter’s will of December 1426, he bequeathed to the collegiate church at Windsor a vestimentum integrum made of his finest red velvet cloth of gold, comprising a chasuble, two dalmatics, three albs, three amices, two stoles, two maniples, two towels, “with all the ornaments for the altar” (an upper and lower frontal), a corporal case, a cloth for the pulpit, and six [matching] copes, together with all of the remaining copes made of red cloth of gold, see Nichols, A Collection (as in this n.), p. 251. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 921. For Gloucester’s inventory, William H. St John Hope, Inventory of the Goods and Chattels Belonging to Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, and Seized at his Castle in Pleshy, Co. Essex, 21 Richard II (1397), with their Values, as Shown in the Escheator’s Accounts, Archaeological Journal, 54/1 (1897), pp. 275–308; for Gloucester’s tapestries, see McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), pp. 49f. For Scrope, ODNB (as n. 14), vol. 49, pp 555f.; Scrope’s inventory, Charles L. Kingsford, Two forfeitures in the year of Agincourt, Archaeologia 70 (1918–1920), pp. 71–100. For the delivery of Scrope’s possessions to the king’s officials, see Ibid., pp. 75f.; many of Scrope’s possessions are listed among the receipts of the great wardrobe in 1421–1422, TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 57r–58r, see also Kingsford, Two forfeitures (as n. 32), pp. 81 and 83f; for Scrope’s tapestries, see McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), pp. 49f. TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/13, fol. 9v, a raccamas (heavy lampas cloth of gold) from Scrope’s goods, purchased from Henry V’s executors for 26 s 8d; for cloths of gold offered at Henry V’s funeral, ibid., fol. 21v. A ‘bed’ was a set of bed furnishings, usually with a half or whole ceeler (canopy), a dorser or tester (vertical hanging at the head of the bed), curtains and a counterpoint (bedcover, often quilted). Strong / Strong, The Last Will (as n. 7), p. 94, lectum nostrum de arras vocat’ lectus de

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Furnishing Textiles The tapestries in the inventory comprised items of tapicerie and of arras, the latter denoting high quality tapestries imported from the Low Countries, but not necessarily made in the town of Arras.37 As keeper of the king’s tapestries, John Stout was responsible for their storage and repair. He also, on occasion, supervised the making of new items. In April 1414, for example, he was commissioned for six months to “take men and women for the works of certain cloths to be made by him for the king’s use”.38 The tapiceries fall into two groups: the first group was woven with armorial designs while the second had repeating patterns of simple motifs, such as crowns, roses or swans. The estimated value of both was between 2 s 6d and 1 s per square verge (91 cm).39 Between 1392–1394, when John Dyke, tapicer of London, provided Richard II with a set of hangings with armorial designs, he charged 1 s 8d per square ell (114.3 cm) for the plain areas, but 13 s 4d for the central designs of the king’s helm (measuring four square ells each), and 6 s 8d each for the corner motifs (measuring a square ell each).40 Even allowing for the difference between a verge and an ell, the prices given in 1423 seem low compared with the cost of the new tapestries ordered forty years earlier.41 In contrast to the tapicerie, the arras portrayed complex narrative scenes with biblical, historical or literary subjects. By the late fifteenth century, arras normally denoted tapestries woven with metal thread, but in 1423 several pieces without gold were listed.42 The cheapest arras without gold, representing the Twelve Peers of France, was appraised at 1 s 8d per square verge,43 while other pieces were estimated at 4 s.44 Condition affected the worth of the tapestries, so that the cheapest arras with gold, an old dossal, was appraised at only 2 s per

37 38 39 40

41 42

43 44

haukyng qui quondam fuit Henrici domini le Scrop, recalling 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 750; see also McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), p. 50. For arras, see Ibid., pp. 47f. CPR (as n. 19), Henry V, 1413–1416 (as n. 25), p. 199. For English medieval measurements, see separate n. 1 above. TNA (as n. 13), E101/402/13, mem. 2, see Lisa Monnas, Fit for a king: Figured silks shown in the Wilton Diptych, in: The Regal Image of Richard II and the Wilton Diptych, ed. Eadem / Dillian Gordon / Caroline Elam, London 1997, pp. 165–177 with notes pp. 322–326, esp. pp. 325f, n. 44. McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), pp. 49f.; Thomas P. Campbell, Henry VIII and the Art of Majesty : Tapestries at the Tudor Court, New Haven/London 2007, p. 30. For Edward III’s arras without gold, see McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), p. 49; for arras subsequently denoting tapestries with gold: Thomas P. Campbell, Tapestry qualities in Tudor England: Problems of Terminology, Studies in the Decorative Arts 3 (1995–1996), pp. 29–50. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 681. Ibid., item 841.

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square verge.45 In contrast, many of the better historiated tapestries containing gold thread were priced between 5 s and 12 s per square verge. The most expensive was a set of two tapestries woven with religious subjects (one was of the Apostles with a text that began “Credo in spiritum Sanctum […]” the other had a text that began “Credo in Deum […]”), estimated at £1 6 s 8d per square verge.46 In Henry V’s inventory, some of the tapestries formed part of room sets containing beds that were sumptuously furnished in silk with coordinating designs: these were beds of state, honourable furnishings for royal bedchambers which also served as audience chambers.47 One set was woven with genettes, probably denoting broom-cods, an emblem of Charles VI of France (r. 1376–1422) adopted by Richard II (r. 1377–1399) at the time of his marriage to Charles’s daughter, Isabelle in 1396.48 Hangings of tapicerie measuring 28 12 square verges at 1 s 10d per verge, totalling £26 3 s 5d, were coordinated with a “bed of genettes” made of baudekyn, a lampas cloth of gold in black and green silk,49 with matching cushions and three curtains of green tartarin silk, estimated at £40.50 Another similar set in the prince’s wardrobe was woven with alaunts (large mastiff-type hunting dogs). Tapicerie wall hangings and floor coverings (liggers)51 with alaunts amounted to 418 square verges, at 1 s 6d per verge, 45 Ibid., item 756. 46 Ibid., item 764; the two pieces containing 162 12 square verges totalled £216 13 s 4d; see McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), p. 49. 47 See Campbell, The art and splendour (as n. 4), p. 13. 48 1423 inventory (as n. 7), p. 146, n. 139. 49 Ibid., items 775 (bed) and 776 (tapites). Baudekyns (variously spelt in English documents baldekyns and baudekins) and in Italy, baldacchini, are thought to derive their name from Bagdhad, which was called baldacco in Italian. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the term denoted lampas silks. These are complex figured silks with two sets of warps and wefts: one set created the ground and the other formed the pattern in contrasting warp and weftfaced weaves, thereby providing a contrast in texture. Baudekyns could be monochrome or polychrome, and could also, as in this case in Henry V’s inventory, be brocaded with gold. Baudekyns were woven both in Europe and the orient, but by 1420’s the baudekyns imported to England generally came from Italy. For a brief discussion of the term baudekyn, see Lisa Monnas, The Impact of Oriental Silks on Italian Silk Weaving in the Fourteenth Century, in: The Power of Things and the Flow of Cultural Transformations, ed. Lieselotte E. SaurmaJeltsch / Anja Eisenbeiss, Munich 2010, pp. 75–83, esp. pp. 73f. 50 Tartaryn (also spelt tartarin) was a tabby woven silk. Although in the early fourteenth century, tartaryn is likely to have denoted as Asian silk imported from ‘Tartar’ or Mongolheld territories, by the 1420’s it seems to have temporarily replaced taffeta (a silk imported from Italy) in the vocabulary of Henry V’s wardrobe clerks, as in an account of 1420–1422, they refer to it as Tartarin….alit’ vocat’ taffeta, TNA (as n. 13), E361/6/9d. Looking at the accounts for Henry V’s reign, I have so far not encountered taffeta, only tartaryn. Taffeta only reappears in the English royal accounts later on in the fifteenth century. 51 In the printed 1423 inventory (as n. 7) text, tapites ligers are translated as ‘ligers hangings’ but it is clear from other documents that ligers or liggers, meant simply ‘lying’; this becomes clear from entries such as: viij tapit’ vocat’ liggers de Worsted rub’ med’ assis’ & 21 tapit’ de Worsted rub’ et virid’ vocat’ hangers pro lect’ et closet’ Regis […], TNA (as n. 13), E361/6, rot. 10r ;

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totalling £31 7 s.52 The matching bed furnishings and screening curtain (traverse) were all made of blue satin stamped in gold with alaunts, valued at £80.53 There was also a cloth of estate of baudekyn d’or with white alaunts, valued at £10, but this was stored elsewhere in the care of Thomas Est, and was not necessarily used with the other alaunt furnishings.54 This use of baudekyn for beds and cloths of estate is noteworthy. Although Henry V’s sister Phillippa (1394–1430) had included clothing of lampas cloth of gold in her trousseau for her marriage to King Eric VII of Denmark and Sweden in 1406, at the courts of England and Burgundy, using baudekyn for dress was outdated by the 1420’s, and was principally used for important furnishings and ecclesiastical vestments.55 The inventory contains thirty-one carpets.56 Carpets were not only used as floor-coverings; they could also be placed on cupboards (sideboards for the display of plate) and on beds. Henry V’s carpets ranged in length from four to 9 34 verges, and in price from just over a shilling to £3 6 s 8d per carpet. The only carpet described in detail was four verges long with white roses on a white ground, valued at 13 s 4d.57 The prince’s wardrobe contained ten carpets of blue worsted, worth just 13 s 4d altogether.58 The other worsted furnishings included wall-hangings,59 bed sets and individual cushions.60 They were not all plain; seven white worsted hangings of eight by four yards, each with a central motif of a garter, were valued at 8 s apiece61 and a bed of red worsted embroidered with castles was valued at £1 6 s 8d.62 Thirty-seven worsted beds were estimated at a fraction of the worth of the silk beds: between 5 s and £1 apiece.63 A few were entirely red, but most of the beds were brightly decked in broad panels of two or three colours, varying between red, white and green; red, blue and green, etc. Some were stored with their own blankets and mattress. These beds were used by

52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63

some accounts have instead of the tapites liggers, tapites iacent’ , see TNA (as n. 13) E101/407/ 4, fol. 53r. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 685. Ibid., item 686. Ibid., item 833. Discussed, Lisa Monnas, Merchants Princes and Painters: Silk Fabrics in Italian and Northern Paintings 1300–1550, New Haven/London 2008, pp. 247f. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 702–706, 748 (leather carpets), 772, 844, 845, 1026, 951 and 1075. Ibid., item 705. Ibid., item 1026. Worsted hangings, Ibid., items 714, 719, 721 and 724. Ibid., cushions, item 1108. Ibid., item 794. Ibid., item 717. Worsted beds in the Tower of London, Ibid., items 902–908; in Windsor Castle, Ibid., items 940–941; charge of Thomas Est, Ibid., items 1068 and 1071.

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members of the royal household. For example, worsted beds were ordered for the henchmen64 attending Queen Katherine’s coronation (23 February 1421).65 Elsewhere, featherbeds66 and pallets were listed, as well as down-filled pillows. There were also small pillows of velvet, baudekyn, satin and other silks, filled with lavender.67

Linens The linens in the inventory are particularly noteworthy, as, unlike the royal wardrobe accounts which describe the piecemeal acquisition of linens as need arose, the 1423 listing gives an overview of the many qualities and international origins of the linens used by the royal household. The linens ranged in quality from the expensive “fine” to the cheaper gros (i. e. coarse) grades. Although they chiefly came from France (from Champagne, Paris and Reims, or simply “French”) and from the territories of the Duke of Burgundy (from Brabant, Flanders or Holland and from the town of Dinant), there was also an item from Westphalia68 and an item from Venice.69 Interpretation of the linens in this inventory can be problematic. For example, the linens called overage de Paris,70 de Dinant or de Venise may have been made in those places, but could also have simply resembled linens made there. It has been debated whether the linens of Reynes referred to Reims in the county of Champagne or Rennes in Brittany, however both Marguerite Prinet and David Mitchell have cited contemporary French documentation of lin de l’oeuvre de Reims to support the case for Reims.71 While Reims was situated in the county of Champagne, there was a distinction made between the high quality manufactured in the city of Reims and the linen “of Champagne” produced outside it. Other linens described as overage de damask are also problematic. This is an early, although not the earliest, use of the term “work of damask” applied to linen72. 64 Henchmen were personal attendants to the king, initiated under Edward III (r. 1327–1327), see William M. Ormrod, Edward III, New Haven/London 2011, pp. 319f. 65 TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 20r. 66 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 1100. 67 Ibid., item 1036. 68 Ibid., item 1004. 69 Ibid., item 927. 70 Marguerite Prinet, Le Damas de Lin Histori8 du XVIe au XIXe siHcle, Berne/Fribourg 1982, pp. 45f., fig. 18. 71 Ibid., p. 45; David Mitchell, By Your Leave My Masters: British Taste in Table Linen in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, Textile History 20,1 (1989), pp. 49–77, p. 50. 72 See the discussion of the evolution of damask by Prinet, Le Damas (as n. 70), pp. 17f.; Mitchell, By Your Leave (as in n. 71), pp. 49 and 51f.

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John, Duke of Berry, who died in 1416, also possessed napery of ouvrage de damas, which was cited by Marguerite Prinet as an early mention of this type of linen. She also pointed out that a piece which was torn in places cannot have been new in 1416.73 Prinet has suggested that these linens were imported from Damascus in Syria in the early fifteenth century and subsequently imitated in Europe.74 The weaving of silk damask was, however, so well established in Italy around 1400 that when referring to silk the term damask simply denoted a particular weave. It therefore seems possible, though far from certain, that Henry V’s table linen and matching towels of overage de damask75 may already have been linens of European manufacture with designs created in a damask weave, or with designs resembling silk damask, rather than being imported from Damascus. It is likely, both because of the early date and judging by the price (given below), that these linens would have had small-scale repeating designs, far removed from the sophisticated historiated linen damasks of the sixteenth century. The largest category of linen in the inventory was that of table linen or napery (tablecloths, napkins and towels) made out of Paris, Dinant, “Damask work”, “Venice work” and Reims linen. As some of the longer items were probably not all actual tablecloths, but linen ready to be made up, they are referred to here as “table linens”. These ranged in length from six to 30 ells, mainly in widths of 1 15 to 1 12 ells, with three pieces woven in broader widths of two or 2 12 ells. A bigger example, listed by Thomas Est, and described as “large” and of fine Reims linen, measuring 25 by 2 12 ells, was given the highest estimate of 13 s 4d per ell, totalling £16 13 s 4d.76 Another Reims table linen measuring 18 ells long, which is narrower (1 15 ells) and is not described as fine, was significantly cheaper at 4 s per ell, totalling £3 12 s.77 An enormous length of Paris table linen,78 30 by 2 12 ells, and two smaller cloths of fine Paris linen, six by two ells each,79 were both appraised at the same high price of 6 s 8d per ell. A narrower piece of Damask work (15 by 1 1 ells), was valued at less than half this price, at 2 s 4d per ell,80 and the table linen 5 of Venetian work, 19 by 1 15 ells, was appraised at only 2 s per ell.81 The Dinant linen cloth, 14 ells by 1 12 verges (sic) at 1 s 4d per ell,82 was still more expensive than the two remnants (25 and 21 ells long) of naperie de Paris gros, estimated at 73 Prinet, Le Damas (as n. 70), p. 38; for further early fifteenth-century examples of damaskwork linen, Ibid., pp. 39f. 74 Ibid., p. 46. 75 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 925f. 76 Ibid., item 1092. 77 Ibid., item 931. 78 Ibid., item 1093. 79 Ibid., item 569. 80 Ibid., item 925. 81 Ibid., item 927. 82 Ibid., item 924; this item’s measurements are given in both ells and verges: see note 33 above.

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6d per ell.83 The prices estimated for Henry V’s linens confirm the pre-eminence of Reims linen as being the most desirable and expensive. They also bear direct comparison to the cost of similar items purchased for the royal houses of France and Burgundy in the early fifteenth century.84 The exclusive luxury of these linens can be appreciated when one considers that in 1420–1422, the king’s tailor, William Tropnell, and his embroiderer, John Cavendish, each received a basic wage of 1 s per day, while John Stout, Keeper of the King’s Tapestries, received 6d, the same basic daily wage as the tailors working under Tropnell.85 The remnants of Brabant, Champagne, Flanders and French linen may have been intended for clothing or for making sheets. According to the great wardrobe accounts, Brabant linen was used for lining stockings of kersey wool for the king and others.86 The inventory contains a dozen breeches (underwear) of Champagne linen at 4d per pair.87 Twenty-eight pieces of French linen, containing 255 ells at 8d per ell were made into kerchiers (headdresses), while the purpose of another large consignment of 207 34 ells priced at 5d per ell was unspecified.88 The inventory lists 105 pairs of sheets. The most expensive were two pairs, four widths each, of Champagne linen, 10s per pair,89 with another, single triple-width sheet of Champagne linen valued at 2 s 6d.90 There were just seven pairs made of Flanders linen, at 2 s per pair, five pairs for pallets at 2 s per pair.91 Seventy-nine pairs made of gros tiell (if tiell was meant for toile, this was literally ‘coarse linen’) in the prince’s wardrobe were valued at 1 s 8d per pair.92 Twelve torn pairs were estimated at 2 s for the lot.93 The cheapest unused linen item was a remnant of ‘gros Westfall’, coarse Westphalian linen at 3d per ell,94 followed by canvas at 3 12 d per ell.95 Canvas was the largest single item in the inventory and consisted of 1,000 ells, estimated at £16 13 s 4d.96 Both Westphalian linen and canvas were used within the royal household to pack and carry 83 Ibid., items 1001f. 84 Compare examples given by Prinet, Le Damas (as n. 70), pp. 38–40. 85 TNA (as n. 13), E 101/407/4, fol. 71r ; n. b. Cavendish, Stout and Tropnell would also have received liveries, plus fees for the work that they undertook, plus other benefits over and above the basic wage. Tropnell and Cavendish’s liveries are described Ibid., p. 55v. 86 Ibid., fols. 62r (for the king); 20r and 20v (for henchmen). 87 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 1005. 88 Ibid., kerchiers, item 849; unassigned pieces, item 922. 89 Ibid., item 736. 90 Ibid., item 1006; among items ordered in the connection with the coronation of Katherine de Valois, sheets of Champagne and Flanders linen, TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 28v. 91 Sheets of Flanders linen, 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 913; sheets for pallets, item 1102. 92 Ibid., item 747. 93 Ibid., item 915. 94 Ibid., item 1004. 95 Ibid., item 824. 96 Ibid.

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clothing and furnishings, and canvas was also employed to line tapestries and worsted furnishings.97 The Great Wardrobe accounts show that the royal family wore linen of Reims more extensively than is indicated in the inventory.98 Between 1420–1422, William Tropnell received materials for making six shirts and twenty-four breeches of Reims linen for the king.99 In the same account book, Thomas Swaby “Shepster” was paid for sewing various articles for the king, including eighteen shirts (camisarum), six pairs of sleeves and 96 breeches of Reims linen. He also sewed a smock, a coif and couverchief of Reims linen for Queen Katherine’s anointing at her coronation.100 Linen from Reims, Brabant, Flanders and Champagne was also important for the construction of doublets (see below).

Clothes The most richly decorated items of clothing were stored with jewels and plate. The costliest of these was part of a garment called a hanselyn held by William Estfeld, which was embroidered with trees, clusters of pearls, balas rubies, sapphires and gold.101 This garment already existed in July 1415, when it was divided into three pieces – a body and two sleeves – to be pledged against soldiers’ wages for the Agincourt campaign.102 Only the body of the garment is listed in 1423, appraised at £161 13 s 4d.103 Jenny Stratford has suggested that the hanselyn may have been an old garment from one of Henry V’s predecessors.104 It certainly brings to mind the hanselyn created thirty years earlier, in 1393–1394, for Richard II to give to his cousin, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March (1374–1398). This was a showy garment, decorated with silver-gilt whelks and muscles, but 97 98 99 100 101

TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fols. 30v, 31r and 65v. TNA (as n. 13), E361/6, rot. 9r. Ibid.; TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, breeches fol. 62r; shirts fol. 62v. Ibid., fol. 73r. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 111; for a hanselyn as ‘a loose outer garment’, mentioned in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Parsons Tale, see William P. Baildon, A Wardrobe Account of 16–17 Richard I, 1393–4, Archaeologia 62/2 (1911), pp. 497–514, esp. p. 503, n. 1. 102 Stratford, ‘Par le special commandement du Roy’ (as n. 5), p. 164; the body was issued to Sir Henry Percy, for 250 marks or £166 13 s 4d, TNA (as n. 13), E101/45/22, mem. 37; and the two sleeves to John Swillington and Sir Ralph Stavely respectively, for 200 marks or £133 6 s 8d each, Swillington, Ibid., mem. 18; Stavely, Ibid., mem. 24. 103 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 111, the hanselyn was estimated piecemeal, thus: 327 matched pearls at 6 s 8d each, subtotal £119; 10 ounces of other pearls subtotal £10; 20 balas rubies and 20 sapphires at 13 s 4d each, subtotal £26 13 s 4d; gold estimated at 6 ounces, 20s per ounce, subtotal £6, producing a total of £161 13 s 4d (not £151 13 s 4d as given in the published text). 104 Stratford, ‘Par le special commandement du Roy’ (as n. 5), p. 164.

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perhaps less precious than the bejewelled item described in 1423.105 Next in price in the 1423 inventory, but considerably cheaper, was a black heuque (a long, full, sleeveless tabard), which was lavishly embellished with silver-gilt spangles weighing eight pounds, and which is said in the inventory to have belonged to Count Mortyn.106 It was listed among precious metalwork held by William Somercotes and appraised by weight at 32 s per pound, totalling £12 16 s. The other clothes listed in 1423 make an interesting comparison with the Great Wardrobe accounts for garments provided for Henry V in the last three years of his life. He ordered ceremonial clothing for St George’s Day (April 23rd) and for Ascension Day, as well as additional practical clothing, such as tightfitting shirts to wear under defensive doublets, a selection of warm mantles lined with fur, gowns, hoods, hose, more shirts, linen breeches and leather boots. While some of the clothing was simply being relined, most of it was new. Almost none of the garments in the 1423 inventory, even the items brought from Meaux, correspond to items made for Henry V in the years immediately preceding his death. Between 1420–1422, Henry’s Great Wardrobe accounts record that he had twelve new gowns made, while four of his existing gowns, two of cloth of gold and two of black velvet, were given new fur linings.107 Eight of the gowns were made of velvet, including plain, fancy figured and brocaded versions. One was made of black damask, and three others were of wool: scarlet, black cloth and blanket. The gown of white blanket, embroidered in Cyprus gold and silk thread with garters with the words hony soit qui mal y pense (the motto of the Order of the Garter) and lined in ermine, was part of an outfit prepared for the Feast of St George, patron saint of the Order of the Garter.108 The account offers valuable details of tailoring. Some gowns, like the Garter gown, were lined with fur.109 Others were lined with velvet, including a gown of black pile-on-pile velvet brocaded with gold, with a lining of black velvet, or another made of red pile-onpile velvet brocaded with Cyprus gold, lined with red velvet and interlined for extra warmth with red wool cloth.110 The descriptions of gowns in the inventory are naturally less detailed. There were forty-seven, of which thirty-nine were made of wool. Only seven were made 105 For a doublet and hancelyn given to the Earl of March see Kay Staniland, Extravagance or Regal Necessity? The Clothing of Richard II, in: The Regal Image (as n. 40), pp. 85–93, esp. p. 86. 106 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 447, owner identified in the printed text as ‘Count of Mortain’. 107 Two gowns made of red and blue cloth-of-gold were lined with sable (together involving 796 whole sable skins) and two made of black velvet were lined with marten (together requiring 645 whole marten skins), TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 68r. 108 Ibid., fol. 63r. 109 A medium-length gown of black velvet lined with 168 marten skins, Ibid. 110 TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4 fol. 66r.

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of silk, mainly of damask or satin, and none at all were made of velvet. There were two sets of scarlet robes, possibly parliament robes: one held by the bishop of Winchester,111 and the other by Robert Rolleston in the Great Wardrobe.112 Multiple sets of individual gowns are likely to have been for the royal household, rather than for the king’s personal use. Twenty-six red wool gowns, stored in the Great Wardrobe and not assigned any value, were probably the remnants of liveries. Among the goods with William Somercotes, there was a Garter gown with wide sleeves made of dark red (sanguyn) wool, with a matching hood, valued at £8, whose ermine lining suggests that it had belonged to Henry V, even if it was not his newest Garter outfit.113 Four children’s gowns made of black silk damask brought back from Meaux were probably made for the children of the chapel, perhaps connected with church services held in France after Henry’s death.114 Two splendid matching gowns (gounez) returned from Meaux, made of green satin and scarlet wool, furred with necks of stone martens and embroidered with silver cages, were valued at £2 6 s 8d each.115 These were probably the remainder of some extravagantly decorated gowns that had been ordered for the king’s henchmen between 1420–1422. The henchmen were Henry’s personal guard, in attendance upon the king: as a highly visible adjunct of his royal majesty the henchmen were always particularly splendidly dressed. Seven parti-coloured gowns were made by the king’s tailor, William Tropnell, for the voyage to France. They were made out of green silk damask (sic) and scarlet wool, dagged, and furred with martens (bellies and heads), with additional sable heads and white lamb fur.116 Elsewhere in the same account book, John Cavendish received materials for embroidering nine (sic) parti-coloured scarlet and green damask gowns with cages in silver and coloured silk thread, further embellished with silver ornaments (bezants and bolions), for the Feast of St George.117 The nine gowns were embroidered by a team of thirty-three people – thirteen men for daily rates of 9 14 and 8 14 d and eighteen women for 5 14 and 4 14 d – paid a total of £14 6 s 5d for their work. This is a rare example in which we can trace the manufacture of two specific articles of clothing named in the 1423 inventory in a Great 111 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 563; parliamentary robes consisted of a mantle, open surcote and closed surcote (or cote hardie). 112 Ibid., item 793. 113 Ibid., item 974; Scrope also possessed a sanguyne Garter gown, with an unspecified fur lining (Kingsford, Two forfeitures (as n. 32), p. 92), but I hesitate to identify it with the ermine-lined gown in the 1423 royal inventory. 114 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 857. 115 Ibid., item 954. 116 TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 20v. These seven garments were said to be ‘for the voyage to France’. 117 Ibid., fol. 2r.

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Wardrobe account. The account illustrates not only the high cost but also the labour-intensive preparation of such elaborately decorated items, a process which required a substantial team of people to prepare the garments in time for a specific feast.118 Six blue wool gowns called hoppellands embroidered with hops listed in the inventory in Robert Rolleston’s charge, valued at £1 each, had also been made for the king’s henchmen between 1420–1422.119 Houpelland, a term current in England from the late fourteenth into the fifteenth century, denoted a long or knee-length gown whose long sleeves sometimes had decoratively cut dagged edges, as worn by Henry V when prince, shown in image 3.3. In the enrolled Great Wardrobe account of the same date, the scarlet and green gounez and blue hoppellands were both designated togae with further togas issued to other members of the household.120 Although these togas looked nothing like their classical Roman counterparts, the adoption of this term reflected (at several removes) the burgeoning revival of classical culture. Toga remained current in the vocabulary of dress well into the sixteenth century : it was used in Venice interchangeably with vesta for long formal gowns,121 and in England Henry VII (r. 1485–1509) and even his granddaughter, Mary I (r. 1553–1558) wore togas, though these later versions were obviously different in style to the togas of the 1420s.122 Doublets, particularly “doublets of defence” and “arming doublets”, worn either with armour or separately, formed a crucial part of Henry V’s wardrobe. In the years between 1420 and 1422, he had an existing cloth of gold doublet refurbished. It was interlined and ‘fortified’ with woollen blanket cloth, then lined with Reims and Brabant linen and then trimmed with gold fringe.123 A long doublet of defence was made for the king to take to France, covered with polychrome velvet and lined with layers of Reims and Champagne linen.124 A crimson velvet doublet, interlined with blanket and lined with Reims and Brabant linen was similarly ordered “for arming the King on his voyage to France”.125 He also had two other arming doublets with matching peticotes made of plain crimson velvet, lined with Reims and Flanders linen and interlined with 118 119 120 121 122

Ibid., fol. 71r. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 813. TNA (as n. 13), E361/6, rot. 9r. Stella Mary Newton, The Dress of the Venetians, 1495–1525, Aldershot 1988, pp. 9f. Togas at the court of Henry VII: account book of Robert Lytton, keeper of the great wardrobe 1503–1504, TNA (as n. 13), E101/415/10, fols. 5r, 5v, and 6r ; togas worn by Mary I, account book of Edward Waldegrave, keeper of the great wardrobe, 1556–1558, fols. 11v, 12v and 13r. 123 TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 62v. 124 Ibid., fol. 65r. 125 Ibid., fol. 64v.

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woollen blanket cloth and padded with cotton wool.126 Today a “petticoat” denotes an item of women’s underwear, a slip to wear under a dress or skirt. In the early fifteenth century, however, a peticote or petite cote (literally “small coat”) was an item of male dress, a separate coat matching an arming doublet, sometimes described as having wide sleeves. The inventory shows that only one separate petite cote of red silk damask and the fur from another petite cote were returned from Meaux.127 According to the inventory, only two arming doublets were stored in England, and these did not match the new items. One, with Thomas Est, was made of voided satin velvet128 and the other, with William Somercotes, was a jak (arming doublet) of red and blue velvet from the estate of Henry Scrope.129 In the years before the king’s death, seven mantles and two cloaks were created for him. The finest mantle, with a train, made of purple velvet furred with ermine, was made for the king to wear at the Feast of the Ascension.130 For his voyage to France, Henry had two cloaks lined with black satin, the first made out of one of Henry Scrope’s gowns of black velvet, and the second of black wool.131 In addition, he had six new woollen mantles, one each in scarlet, murray (mulberry-colour) and sanguine, and three in black, lined with lamb.132 The inventory lists five mantles. One, in the prince’s wardrobe, was a Garter mantle of deep blue velvet embroidered with an escutcheon of St George within a garter, lined with ermine and valued at £20 – similar to St George’s mantle in image 3.1.133 Three mantles, two made of black wool lined with cristigrey (squirrel) fur134 and one of red silk damask,135 were brought back from France. A long and a short mantle of blue wool were listed in the prince’s wardrobe in England.136 None of these five corresponds to Henry V’s most recent clothing. When examining the inventory as a whole, it is obvious that Henry V’s most recent garments were not included. The receipts of the Great Wardrobe in the first years of Henry VI’s reign, moreover, reveal no trace of the dead king’s clothing passing to his infant successor. The answer lies partly in Henry V’s will, in which his armour and furnishings from Windsor, Westminster and the Tower 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136

Ibid., fol. 66r. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), items 869 and 870. Ibid., item 1083. Ibid., item 1013; the jak is listed among Scrope’s effects in the great wardrobe, 1420–1422, TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/4, fol. 57v. Ibid., fol. 63r. Ibid., fol. 63v. Ibid., fol. 65v. 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 1091. Ibid., item 858. Ibid., item 867. Ibid., item 1086.

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of London were bequeathed to his successor, while all of his “furred” robes and regalia ([…] omnes robas nostras furratas et omnia indumenta nostra regalia cum furr’ […]), as well as his trussing beds, were bequeathed to one of his executors, Henry, Lord Fitzhugh (c. 1363–1425).137 Fitzhugh had for many years been a loyal and valued servant of the Crown. He served Henry V as treasurer of England (1416–21) and Chamberlain of the Household (1413–22), and would go on to serve Henry VI in the same capacity until 1425.138 The Chamberlain of the Household has been described as “the closest personal servant of the king”, someone of enormous influence who could act as gatekeeper for personal access to the monarch.139 The clothing was not only a valuable, but also a very personal bequest, and the king’s esteem for Fitzhugh is apparent in the wording of his will: […] dilecto et fideli militi nostro domino de Fitzhugh, camerario nostro […]. Leaving aside the possibility of items being mislaid or pilfered in the aftermath of the king’s death, or of some martial garments being unfit to pass on, any remaining garments may have formed part of the blanket legacies made to Queen Katherine, his wife.140 Many of the secular furnishings and some of the unused textiles listed in 1423 were subsequently redeemed by the Crown from the executors for Henry VI at the prices given in the inventory. In the first year of the new reign, over forty items were acquired, mainly from a group of items listed by Thomas Est, altogether worth £128 5 s 8d.141 These items included the hangings and bed with alaunts. The two most expensive items were the baudekyn d’or cloth of estate with white alaunts for £10, and two “chaircloths” to drape over thrones made of red and white baudekyn brocaded with gold, priced together at £7 6 s 8d.142 In addition to these, the Great Wardrobe repurchased some fabrics and furs from the executors.143 In 1426, over a hundred further items (some listed in multiple

137 Strong / Strong, The Last Will (as n. 7), p. 95. 138 For the legacy of armour and furnishings to Henry VI, Ibid., p. 96; for the legacy of clothing to Lord Fitzhugh, Ibid., p. 95; for Fitzhugh’s early ascendancy under Henry V, see Gwilym Dodd, Henry V’s Establishment: Service, Loyalty and Reward in 1413, in: New Interpretations (as n. 5), pp. 35–76, esp. pp. 42–43; see also Mark Arvanigian, Henry V, Lancastrian Kingship and the Far North of England, in: New Interpretations (as n. 5), pp 77–101, esp. pp. 83–85. 139 Chris Given-Wilson, The Royal Household and the King’s Affinity: Politics and Finance in England 1360–1413, New Haven/London 1986, pp. 71f. 140 Strong / Strong, The Last Will (as n. 7), p. 93. 141 TNA (as n. 13), E 101/407/13, fol. 12r, account book of Robert Rolleston, 1 September 1422–31 August 1424, 40 entries (some multiple items); receipt of these items fols. 13r and 13v. 142 Cloth of estate, 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 833; chaircloths, item 836. 143 TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/13, fols. 5v–10r, plus a diadem, fol. 11r.

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sets), including fifty-five hangings and other furnishings made of tapestry,144 were redeemed from the executors for £1353 18 s 6 18 d. In addition to the furnishings already redeemed, there was also a mixture of items with regal associations – such as ten “very old” hangings of red tapicerie with the arms of England for 3 s apiece145 – and a group of more utilitarian furnishings, including thirty-one complete worsted beds plus assorted worsted bed furnishings and forty pairs of gros linen sheets.146

Conclusion Unlike Henry VIII’s inventory of 1547, Henry V’s inventory of 1423 was not conceived as a complete record of his moveable goods, but as a selection of valuable yet expendable possessions. Despite these limitations, the inventory not only provides important lists of royal plate, jewels and tapestries, but also offers an interesting selection of Henry V’s other furnishings. Through the inventory, we can form a vivid image of chambers impressively arrayed in suites of tapestries with coordinating silk bed furnishings, contrasting these select few with the more plentiful but less distinguished worsted beds. The inventory also records an important variety of royal table linens from France, the Low Countries, Germany and Italy, ranging from fine linen of Reims to coarser gros linens, with the same distinctions applying to sheeting. In contrast, the clothing is summarily listed and, due to the fact that Henry V’s most recent and finest clothing had been bequeathed elsewhere, does not adequately reflect the king’s personal dress. Details relating to dress can be found instead in the Great Wardrobe accounts, which not only record a succession of outfits ordered for specific occasions, but, by noting details of fur or fabric linings, linen collar stiffenings, warm interlinings, cotton padding and embroidered decoration, also give an idea of the elaborate construction and embellishment of the garments. It is these wardrobe accounts, rather than the inventory, that allow us to gain an accurate impression of the ceremonial and practical clothing ordered by the king in the last year of his life. 144 TNA (as n. 13), E101/408/2, see McKendrick, Tapestries (as n. 4), p. 49; see also Campbell, Henry VIII (as n. 41), pp. 27–30. 145 1423 inventory (as n. 7), item 691. 146 All of the items redeemed in 1422 listed in the account book TNA (as n. 13), E101/407/13, fols. 12r–13r. were repeated in the larger group listed in 1426 on the roll TNA (as n. 13), E 101/408/2; the redeemed items correspond to 1423 inventory (as n. 7) items 681–684, 686f., 690*, 691, 702*, 711f., 714–719, 724–728, 730, 733–736, 737*, 739f., 744f., 747*, 752f., 756–767, 770, 773f., 799–801, 802*, 833, 835f., 838f., 902–908, 917–919, 921, 942–950, 1014. (*in these cases only part of an item was redeemed).

Annemarie Stauffer

A Purchase List from the Court of Charles the Bold from 1473

Introduction In the late autumn of 1473, a meeting took place between the German Emperor Frederick III and Duke Charles the Bold of Burgundy. Charles was intent on strengthening his position of power and was therefore prepared to offer the emperor the hand of his only daughter, Mary, for his son Maximilian.1 Despite the inconclusive results of this meeting, accounts of the event can be found in both written and visual sources,2as Charles the Bold’s large display of grandeur was such that had rarely been seen before this time. The costs far exceeded those from the wedding of his father, Philip the Good, with Isabella of Portugal in 1430 and the costs of his own wedding with Isabella of York in 1468.3 As in current journalism, the reports of this meeting from that time were influenced by the reporters’ positions and when they were written, resulting in 1 Petra Ehm, Der Tag von Trier 1473 und die Grenzen des Reiches: Karl der Kühne, Friedrich III. und die Kurfürsten, in: Außenpolitisches Handeln im ausgehenden Mittelalter: Akteure und Ziele, ed. Sonja Dünnebeil / Christine Ottner, Vienna / Cologne / Weimar 2007, pp. 233–257; Harm von Seggern, Herrschermedien im Spätmittelalter: Studien zur Informationsübermittlung im burgundischen Staat unter Karl dem Kühnen, Ostfildern 2003, pp. 309–337. 2 Philippe de Commynes discusses this meeting in his memoirs, as do a German and a French witness in letters. Cf. Philippe de Commynes, “M8moires,” ed. Jo[l Blanchard, Paris 2001, p. 567; Joseph Chmel, Actenstücke und Briefe zur Geschichte des Hauses Habsburg im Zeitalter Maximilians I., Hildesheim 1968, Second edition, vol. 1: Nr. 15 and 16; Diebold Schilling illustrates the meeting in his “Zürcher Chronik”, written between 1480 und 1484, cf. Diebold Schilling, Die grosse Burgunderchronik des Diebold Schilling von Bern. ‘Zürcher Schilling’ Faksimile-Ausgabe mit Kommentar der Handschrift Ms. A5 der Zentralbibliothek Zürich, ed. Alfred A. Schmid, Luzern 1985, p. 121. 3 On this, a summary of both recent and older literature: Fabienne Joubert, Le mariage de Charles le T8m8raire et Marguerite d’York et ses implications artistiques, in: Kunst und Kulturtransfer zur Zeit Karls des Kühnen, ed. Norberto Gramaccini / Marc C. Schurr, Bern et al 2008, pp. 111–126; A letter to the Duke of Burgundy provides information on the costs of the wedding in 1430, cf. Von Seggern, Herrschermedien, pp. 293–294 and p. 459. Also KarlHeinz Spieß, Der Schatz Karls des Kühnen als Medium der Politik, in: Karl der Kühne von Burgund, ed. Klaus Oschema, Zurich 2010, pp. 273–290.

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differences in their interpretation and assessment. However, there is a source available to us that, at first glance, records only facts – a purchase list for the outfitting of the Duke of Burgundy’s entire retinue from 1473. It nevertheless allows for an idea of the preparations, the careful consideration of the outfitting of particular groups of people and of clothing and of the significance of clothing within a certain social or functional group. It also conveys an idea of the great importance of fabric, of fabric qualities, of gold and colours as visual means of communication and of much more. The list was published in 1973 – in excerpts – by Richard Vaughan.4 It is a great achievement of Vaughan to have translated parts of this list into English. However, many vital details – for example, fabric length and prices – are missing from Vaughan’s publication. The following discussion is based solely on the original text.5

The source Today, the document can be found with other Burgundian court documents in the Archives d8partementales du Nord (ADN) in Lille.6 It is a fascicle of nine sheets of paper, folded in the middle, bound with two small leather bands. The resulting 18 pages measure 29.5 x 22 centimetres. (Image 5.1.) Except for the last page, each page is written and paginated with brown ink on both sides. The final sheet, 18, is blank on the front side. On the back side is a notation regarding the content of the document, presumably from the 19th century. The sheets of paper include short consecutive texts at the beginning and end and in between are lists with names and numbers. The document was penned by Nicolas de Gondeval and completed on October 24, 1473. This date is after the arrival of Charles the Bold in Trier on September 30, 1473 and also after the first meeting with the emperor on October 2nd and the following celebratory banquet in Saint Maximin on October 7th. Hence, the purchase list itself is not an order list, but rather the account of purchases made. The author states his name and his role as argentier of Charles the Bold at the end of the document (fol. 17v). As a member of the Burgundian court treasury, he was responsible for managing the expenses. In this role, he was authorised to execute payments in the name of his master.7 At 4 Richard Vaughan, Charles the Bold. The Last Valois Duke. Unveränderter Nachdruck der Ausgabe London/New York 1973, mit einer Einleitung und ergänzender Bibliographie von Werner Paravicini, Woodbridge 2002, pp. 141–144. 5 This exact study of the text and the following considerations would not have been possible without the help and support of Dr. Susan Marti, curator at the Bern Historical Museum. A complete text edition is being prepared by the author. 6 Lille ADN Inv. B 2098 7 On the organisation of the court and the role of the argentiers see: Karl der Kühne von

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the very beginning of the document, he records having created, on behalf of Charles, the almost 1,000 entry comprehensive list of materials for the outfitting of the courtiers at the meeting of the sovereigns in Trier. The long and detailed list concludes with “somme de toutes parties tant de draps d’or et d’argent, de soye comme de laine font compter XXXVIII milles VIII trente libres” (17v). For the outfits with gold and silver brocade, different silks and fine wool cloths, the sum of 38,830 Flemish pounds was spent, an astronomically high sum, made even more extraordinary when correlated to the value of a Flemish pound at that time.8 The clothing of the duke himself is not included in this expense. Similar amounts of money were once again spent for his own clothing.9

Image 5.1. Purchase list, last page with final sum of expenses, Gondevals name and date 1473. Lille, Archives d8partementales du Nord, Inv. B 2098, fol. 17v, T Lille, ADN.

Nicolas de Gondeval was an experienced writer. His handwriting is sure and clear. The entire accounting process seems to have been written in one sitting, which would only have been possible if he had had detailed lists of the individual items, most importantly with the names of the dignitaries and courtiers to be outfitted. The individual items are set apart from each other by clearly recognisable headings, which include information on fabric quality, colour, design and, if necessary, the cut of a piece of clothing and the amount of material ordered. The list of people for whom the clothing was intended follows underneath. Although the list refers to the textile purchases made, the headings begin Burgund (1433–1477). Kunst, Krieg und Hofkultur, ed. Susan Marti / Till-Holger Borchert / Gabriele Keck, Brussels 2008, pp. 216–217. 8 On this, Susan Marti, in: Karl der Kühne: p. 270. 9 On the clothing of Charles the Bold upon arrival in Trier Ibid.: p. 270, pp. 277–279.

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by naming the clothes that were meant for a particular group. The clothing and the prestige associated with being able to wear certain garments in the company of the duke of Burgundy – which will be subsequently discussed – was grounds for ordering fabric, for which Gondeval then created a bill illustrates this concept. (Image 5.2.) The page begins with the heading: “Robes longues de satin figur8 noir chaque XVI aulnes” (fol. 6v). Underneath is the list of names, beginning with Jean le Tourneur, followed by a further six named nobles of high rank. For the next group, black patterned satin was also required, however only for a mid-length robe and therefore only 12 ells calculated per each man on the list: “Robes demi longues de satin figur8 noir chaque XII aulnes” (fol. 6v). Longer entries end with the addition of the costs for the materials needed to outfit the group designated in the heading.

Image 5.2. Purchase list: Each new entry strarts with a heading including the garment intended to taylor, the type of fabric ordered and the price per ell, followed by a list of individuals who were determined to wear the garments. Lille (France), Archives d8partementales du Nord, Inv. B 2098, fol. 6v : T Lille, ADN.

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Gondeval’s records begin with the fabrics for the robes of the knights of the Golden Fleece. They were each made out of 16 ells of gold cloth, Drap d’or (fol. 1v). This is one of the rare entries without a more detailed description of the cut of the clothing to be made, since the cut was canonically decreed in one of the ordinances dictated by Philip the Good and later revised by Charles the Bold.10 The clothing for the chancellor (Monsieur le Chancelier), for which 16 ells of gold brocade was noted (fol. 6v), was not described in more detail. This was – as appropriate for his rank – a long, luxurious garment, a type of robe for officials, whose appearance obviously did not require any further explanation.11 Detailed information is provided for all remaining garments, according to the abovementioned schema. At the beginning are smaller groups of nobility, listed by name, as well as the group of the maires of the most important cities of the Duchy of Burgundy. Following are courtiers with specific positions, such as heralds, merchants and artists, also listed by name. (Image 5.3.) Among them we find such well-known names as Tommaso Portinari, the Florentine merchant and banker who transacted many textile orders Charles the Bold had a pourpoint of crimson satin assigned for him, as well as a robe, also satin, but with an elaborate violet and crimson pattern (fol. 7r). The medallist Giovanni Candida received silk for a long robe of crimson damask and a pourpoint12 of black satin. The goldsmith Gerard Loyet appeared in reverse colouring with a black robe and a crimson violet pourpoint of satin (fol. 7v).13 Both the court jesters, Monsieur le Philosophe und Monsieur le Glorieux, are included. They accompany the duke in garments of yellow and green satin (fol. 7v–8r), the colours of jesters and fools. A fool’s sceptre from the 15th century, in the collection of the Museum of Decorative Arts in Berlin, conveys an idea of the material mentioned in Gondeval’s writing.14 The list concludes with military personnel. Individual men with specific duties come first here as well, followed by members of the bodyguard and finally the nameless masses of mounted and unmounted troops. As with other meetings of sovereigns in this period – as pointed out by Stephan Selzer–, one’s own status was demonstrated by the size of one’s retinue and that of the retinue was shown based on the social position of those in the retinue, thus by the

10 Cf. the image in: Karl der Kühne: p. 187. 11 The chancellor was Guillaume Hugonet. See Werner Paravicini, Zur Biographie von Guillaume Hugonet, Kanzler Herzog Karls des Kühnen, in: Festschrift für Hermann Heimpel, ed. Max-Planck-Institut für Geschichte, Göttingen 1972, vol. 2, pp. 443–481. 12 See below regarding clothing. 13 On Portinari und Candida, most recent literature Karl der Kühne: p. 224, pp. 238–241. 14 Berlin, Museum of Decorative Arts Karl der Kühne: p. 58. For fools in yellow clothing, see the corresponding illustrations in the “Augsburg Monatsbilder” (1480–1537) in April: Feste und Bräuche aus Mittelalter und Renaissance. Die Augsburger Monatsbilder, ed. Deutsches Museum Berlin, Gütersloh / Munich 2007, pp. 86–87.

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highest possible ranking attendants. Through this show of status, a positive starting position for the following discussions and negotiations was acquired.15

Image 5.3. List of artists attending Charles the Bold, among them Tommaso Portinari (last line in the list). Lille (France), Archives d8partementales du Nord, Inv. B 2098, fol. 7r. T Lille, ADN.

It is evident that the outfitting of one’s retinue and of the princely household did not deal with individual clothing chosen by an attendant himself, not even when an individual in a prominent position – such as the court chancellor – was listed. Clothing was a quick, visual means of ascertaining the characterisation and distinction of social positions and of functional groups, a means that was generally understandable at this time. This was true for secular and church dignitaries as well as for military personnel, for knights of the Golden Fleece, mayors of the prominent cities of the duchy as well as for the highest-ranking clergy, for the chancellors as well as the fools, for the artists at court as well as for the “elite troop” of archers and for many more – they all formed groups with defined individual functions, whose collective presentation as the personal entourage of the Duke of Burgundy was important. In this, the actions of Charles the Bold were no different from other European courts at the end of the 15th century.16 15 Stephan Selzer, Reflections on the visual appearance of the Diet, in: Politische Versammlungen und ihre Rituale. Repräsentationsformen und Endscheidungsprozesse des Reichs und der Kirche im späten Mittelalter, ed. Jörg Peltzer / Gerhard Schwedler / Paul Töbelmann, Ostfildern 2009, pp. 251–261. 16 More works have recently been published on this topic in addition to Stephan Selzer’s research, including works by Werner Paravicini und Karl-Heinz Spieß. Only after the completion of the manuscript did I receive access to Sophie Jolivet’s excellent dissertation, see Sophie Jolivet, Pour soie vÞtir honÞtement / la cour de monseigneur le duc de Bourgogne – costume et dispositif vestimentaire / la cour de Philippe le Bon de 1430 / 1455, Dijon 2003 (Phil.-Diss. universit8 de Bourgogne). I was unfortunately unable to take Jolivet’s research on clothing and on the orders at Philip the Good’s court into account. Doris Oltrogge, Cologne,

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Nevertheless, the list deserves special attention, not only because of its exactness and the range of clothes and fabric contributions mentioned, but also because of its high level of detail: clothes are not only distinguished by colour and quality of fabric, but also by the amount of material used for the clothing – long, medium, short – and by the amount of fine garments – pourpoint and long robe, pourpoint and short robe, pourpoint without robe, pourpoint and short mantle and so on17. The value of this source lies in this complexity and the evident attention to details, which will be discussed in the following paragraphs.

Style and cut of the clothes Despite what would initially be assumed given the range of the list, the number of different items of clothing for which fabric is ordered is relatively small (Appendix 1). This has to do with the fact that only outer garments and mantles, or only those items which would actually be seen in a crowd, are mentioned, but no hosiery and – with one exception18 – no head pieces. The items of clothing mentioned are different from each other primarily in their length and thereby in the lavishness of material usage. Robes and pourpoints are listed most frequently.19 A pourpoint is a close-fitting doublet with or without sleeves and coattails. On the bottom hemline of the pourpoint, the hose was held up by laces. The most famous, albeit earlier example of a pourpoint is that of Charles de Blois (1319–1364), which can now be found in the Mus8e Historique des Tissus in Lyon.20 The pourpoint is on the list for all groups of people, except for the knights of the Golden Fleece (fol. 1v) and the three high clergymen (fol. 6r). Nobles wore it with a robe, military personnel with a short mantle of various cuts. Silk was used for all pourpoints mentioned.

17 18 19 20

kindly made me aware of the paper. The work of Kristen O. Frieling, Sehen und gesehen werden. Kleidung an Fürstenhöfen an der Schwelle vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit, Ostfildern 2013, does not offer additional information and is vague and out of date on many points, as current textile research is not taken into account. Amazingly, the Burgundian court appears in this work only marginally. Lisa Monnas, The cloth of gold of the pourpoint of the blessed Charles de Blois: A pannus tartaricus?, in: Bulletin de liaison du C.I.E.T.A. 70 (1992), pp. 117–123. Fol. 3 v : bonet de damas noir. On the etymology of the word, see Stella Mary Newton, Fashion in the age of the Black Prince. A study of the years 1340–1365, Woodbridge 2002, p. 55. Les fastes du Gotique – le siHcle de Charles V, exhibition catalogue mus8e du Louvre (Paris: Editions de la reunion des mus8es nationaux, 1981) p. 399–400. Fort he colour illustration see Manuela Beer et al. (eds.), Die Heiligen Drei Könige. Mythos, Kunst und Kultur, München 2014, p. 308. However, the pourpoint at the Burgundian court was cut shorter than that of Charles de Blois. Lisa Monnas, The cloth of gold of the pourpoint of the blessed Charles de Blois: A pannus tartaricus?. In: Bulletin de liaison du C.I.E.T.A. 70, (1992), pp. 117–123.

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The robes were loose fitting garments with long sleeves. The fact that robes, and, beneath them, pourpoints made of patterned silk, were included for several courtiers suggests that the robes – at least partly – allowed a view of the splendid pourpoints. Depending on the wearer’s rank, the outer garment was long, medium-length or short (robes longues, demi longues, courtes). Pourpoint and robes represented the “basic elements” of Burgundian court clothing.21 For both items, there were obviously standardised specifications regarding the amount of material used. For each pourpoint, 3.5 ells of fabric were ordered, for a long robe 16 ells, for a medium-length robe 12 ells and for a short robe, 8 ells. This provides us once again with significant evidence that it wasn’t only the quality of a piece of clothing, but also the cut and length that were indicators of social position and regard at court. The measurements given allow conclusions to be drawn regarding the appearance of the pieces of clothing listed. In addition to a robe of gold brocade, Olivier de la Marche, the head of the bodyguard, is allowed 3.5 ells of crimson velvet for his pourpoint (fol. 13v). For a velvet robe, approximately 425 x 54 centimetres of silk was needed. The long sleeves required about 100 centimetres of fabric. Approximately 325 centimetres remained for the front and back sides, which corresponded to a skirt length of about 160 centimetres. For a short skirt, on the other hand, a length of only 55 centimetres could be calculated. With this, the robe still covered completely a pourpoint about 45 centimetres long. Unfortunately, there are no original pourpoints or robes from this period.22 However, the measurements for individual pieces of clothing, which can concretely be deduced from the amounts of material recorded on Gondeval’s list, are confirmed by numerous images. A good example of this is the dedication picture in the ordinance for Charles the Bold’s stable master from 1469.23 (Image 5.4). Charles the Bold sits enthroned surrounded by courtiers of different ranks under a baldachin: to the left is a man of the highest rank in a red, tight-fitting doublet, probably the pourpoint, with 21 Johannes Pietsch, Zwei Schauben aus dem Bayerischen Nationalmuseum München. Ein Beitrag zur Kostümforschung, Munich 2004, p. 13. 22 A men’s jacket of red silk satin at the Bern Historical Museum is identified as a ‘Burgundian jacket’ in earlier literature. The grand garment is supposed to have come from the Burgundian booty of 1476. The jacket had already been changed significantly at an unknown time, with the waist being set higher and the coattails being lengthened. A second massive change took place during the restoration in 1960 by M. Flury-Lemberg, who did not see that the garment was laced in the back. The round neck opening in the front was reshaped into a slightly raised collar. This false interpretation was detected by Karen Christie. Taking this new knowledge into account, the jacket was shown for the first time in its authentic form, with the lacing in the back, at the exhibition of Charles the Bold in Bern in 2008. See: Karen Christie, Neuentdeckungen im Bernischen Historischen Museum: Der sogenannte Burgunderrock (BHM Inv. 20), in: Waffen- und Kostümkunde 46 (2004), pp. 87–94. 23 Hofordnung für den Stallmeister Karls des Kühnen: Wien, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek Cod. Ser. N 2616, fol. 1v.

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Image 5.4. Charles the Bold sits enthroned surrounded by courtiers of different ranks clad with robes longues, robes demi longes und robe courtes. Hofordnung für den Ersten Stallmeister, 1469, Wien, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. Ser. N 2616, fol. 1v. (nach Karl der Kühne 2008, p. 46).

tight-fitting sleeves open at the bottom, allowing a white shirt to be seen. He is wearing a long robe of blue-gold brocade as an overgarment, this time with wide, open sleeves, which, as shown here, could be fashionably draped around the arm so that the different coloured vest underneath could be seen. The same pieces of clothing, albeit of a lesser quality, are worn by the stable master kneeling in front of the duke: his tight-fitting pourpoint is blue, and once again the white shirt can be seen underneath the open sleeves. The robe is brownish red, but neither

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patterned nor made of brocade. Behind him stand three elder men, all in long, closed robes of understated elegance. In contrast, the young man in the picture to the far right has a yellow pourpoint, a short blue robe and a mantle around his shoulders, a paletot or manteau, as mentioned in Gondeval’s list for courtiers without specific positions and for the bodyguard (fol. 13r). The clothing, as shown in the ordinance of 1469, appears in the same way, unchanged, in the other numerous visual representations of Burgundian court life. This clearly demonstrates that in addition to the cut, the quality and colour also substantially determined the impression one made. The types of fabric and the colours mentioned in Gondeval’s list will therefore be discussed below.

Types of fabric The small number of garments is diametrically opposed to the considerable selection of silk fabric in different colours (Appendix 2). With one exception (the camelot, a smooth woolen cloth24 meant for the outfitting of military personnel), silk fabric is ordered for all participants for the special occasion, in 12 different qualities. On the highest end of the price spectrum are the gold cloths and brocades: among the 1,000 participants, only 137 were allowed to wear these: the knights of the Golden Fleece, the chancellor, the 12 diseniers,25 Olivier de la Marche as head of the bodyguard and the bodyguard itself. Interesting is the distinction between gold and/or silver cloths (drap d’or, drap d’argent, drap d’or et d’argent) and brocade (brocart). Gold and silver cloths most likely referred to those fabrics where metal completely covered the surface area. Due to a technical trick, the pattern was set so that it was only raised off the cloth by its contours, like an engraved drawing. The ground and pattern make the surface area look lustrous, like chiselled metal. It is because of the high use of metal that gold cloths constituted the most splendid and most expensive silk-weaving product at that time. This fabric was at the top of Gondeval’s list and its value is significantly reflected in the expenses, with 25 scudi per ell. In Trier, drap d’or was exclusively for the knights of the Golden Fleece’s robes. Only a few original gold cloths of this type have survived; their high metal content was often the reason for their destruction, as the gold – or silver – could be retrieved by burning. At the Bern Historical Museum, a full-length panel, woven slightly later, at the beginning of the 16th century, yet still intact,26 gives an authentic impression of the splendour 24 On Kamelot, Schamlot, Schamlott Pietsch, Schauben: p. 26 and p. 33. 25 A disenier always heads a group of ten people. 26 Bern Historical Museum Inv. 24a. Due to its design, the gold cloth could not have been made before 1500. It is therefore not a length of material from the Burgundian booty.

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of the draps d’or. Another gold cloth with a contemporary pattern is pictured in one of the ordinances of the Order of the Golden Fleece as a baldachin hanging behind Charles the Bold.27 The drap d’argent in Gondeval’s list prove that a fabric’s value directly depended on the type and amount of metal included: silver, while amply used, was simply a shiny replacement for the valuable gold and the silver cloths just good enough for the bodyguards’ jackets, for which the author noted nothing more than a wholesale price. Interestingly enough, a third category of metal cloths appears: drap d’or cramoisy for the pourpoint of the chancellor. This could have been a fabric with a background woven completely in gold and a pattern made with a pile weave in kermes dyed silk, thus making the visual impression more striking than that of a gold cloth whose pattern contours were only achieved by a technical effect.28 The price of ‘only’ 15 scudis per ell reflects the lower content of gold compared to the 25 scudis for real gold cloth. Surprisingly, “gold brocade” in the following price and value category is distinguished from “gold cloth.” Only the chancellor wears this quality (fol. 6v). At 16 scudis per ell, gold brocade is also significantly cheaper than gold cloth for the knights of the Golden Fleece. The pourpoints for the bodyguard were made out of very rich silver brocade (“brocart d’argent trHs riche”, fol. 13v). “Brocade” is a broad term. In general, it indicates silk cloth partially enhanced with metallic wefts, and there are more coloured areas than gold areas. Brocade could mean lampas, damask or velvet; this is not specified in the list (fol. 13r). The difference in value between brocade and gold cloth and the difference in the social rank of the person wearing such a fabric is reflected in the fact that 111 people appear in brocade for the entrance into Trier, but only 26 in drap d’or. Overall, however, fabrics with gold content show that the wearer holds a special position. It was a clear-cut way of allowing the ranking within a group to be visually ascertainable, as the majority of the participants present at the entry into Trier wore silk without gold or silver. For fabrics without metal woven in, velvets again took first place in this time period due to the high amount of material used, followed by the patterned fabrics without pile.29 At the end of the list was unpatterned simple taffeta, which Gondeval only noted down for the lining of a brocade mantle (fol. 13v) and for horse trappings (fol. 13r). 27 Cf. Karl der Kühne: p. 187, fig. 74. 28 Annemarie Stauffer, Italienische Seiden am burgundischen Hof, in: Kunst und Kulturtransfer zur Zeit Karls des Kühnen, ed. Norberto Gramaccini / Marc Carel Schurr, Bern et al 2012, pp. 211–212; Detailed depiction in Karl der Kühne: plate 28. 29 The value and price spectrum for Italian silk is clear from the records of Giovanni da Uzzanos (1442). Cf. Giovanni Francesco Pagnini, Della decima e di varie altre gravezze imposte dal comune di Firenze, Lisboa 1765, vol.1., pp. 125–126.

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Monochrome velvets appear in black, crimson, blue and a shade of brown,30 but individual prices are no longer listed, only lump sums for the ordered items. Although the fabric is not patterned, the expensive dyes used (see below) speak for their appreciation. Twice Gondeval mentions velours sur velours meaning “velvet on velvet.” This is in regard to the pile-on-pile velvet, where the pile was cut at different heights according to a pattern, resulting in a monochrome design made visible on the ground through a subtle play of light and shadow. Pile-onpile velvet was ordered in crimson, for example, for the three high clergy members in Charles the Bold’s retinue (fol. 7r). Damasks are always patterned. Quality and number of colours and any possible metal inweaving not mentioned on the list determine the price of the fabric and thus the importance of the wearer. For the Duke of Burgundy’s retinue, only violet and crimson violet damask were used. The only exception, a piece of white damask, is for the pourpoint of an archer, who is supposed to appear in the heraldic colour white (silver) and blue. Satin is usually on the bottom end of the price spectrum for silk fabrics. This is also the case in Gondeval’s purchase list; however, two different qualities of satin appear : patterned satin (satin figur8) and single-colour satin (uni). It cannot clearly be discerned how exactly the satin figur8 looked in the 1470s, particularly since there are two colour variations, but only one colour (crimson and black) mentioned for each. It could either be lampas, on which tabby weave pattern lay on a satin ground or a fabric on which a pattern in a pile weave was incorporated into the satin ground.31 (Image 5.5.) Since the glossy satin ground determined the impression one made, this cannot be considered velvet. This type of fabric was for the group of artists and for the merchant Tommaso Portinari. The application of a pattern and above all, expensive dyestuffs make these satins precious and underline that the persons wearing them were greatly valued by the duke of Burgundy. Neither a certain loom nor special capabilities are necessary for the production of monochrome satin. The quality of the dye and the density of the fabric determine the price. For the entry into Trier, only the very best quality was ordered, such as crimson and black. As both of these colours played an important role, the choice of colours will be discussed in the final paragraphs.

30 The two individual orders of yellow velvet for the fools is not described here in more detail. See note 14 above. 31 On this fabric, see Karl der Kühne: p. 236.

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Image 5.5. Detail of a cope made of a fabric with satin ground an pattern in gold brocading and pile weave. Middle of 15th century. Bern, Historisches Museum, Inv.25, Detail. Bernisches Historisches Museum. Foto: Y. Hurni.

Colours and dyes At first glance, there seem to be a wide spectrum of colours on Gondeval’s list. However, by disregarding the garments which were meant as a single order for one or two people with special positions, such as the yellow and green fools’ clothes or the archers’ above-mentioned blue and white (silver-coloured) doublet, the colour palette is reduced to red, crimson, crimson violet and black. The latter two shades comprise 80 % of the clothing. While there have been a sufficient amount of publications on the meaning of colour and its multi-layered significance in medieval society, it cannot be stressed often enough that it was not only the colour itself, but also the quality of the dye which held great import.32 On Gondeval’s list, therefore, red and violet fabrics are distinguished from crimson (cramoisy) and crimson violet (cramoisy violet) – a decisive difference in price and importance. In this time period, tyrian purple had not been used as dye for many years; kermes, the dye for crimson, had taken its place as the most valuable, longest-lasting and prestigious dye. The insects needed for this were brought in large quantities to the foremost centres of silk-weaving, to 32 Frieling’s conclusions in Sehen: p. 73, are also inapplicable regarding this point.

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Florence, Genoa and Venice. Specific selvedges featured kermes dyed silk as marks of quality.33 In Florence, kermes was the only dyestuff allowed by law to dye red velvet.34 The deep black silk garments also owe their value to the amount and quality of the dyestuff needed. In this case as well, the colour black did not raise the price; instead, it was the quality of the black dye for silk fabrics.35 It is therefore not surprising that Charles the Bold substantiated his claim to power by visual means with the choice of black and crimson violet colours. Only those closest to him in his entourage were allowed gold adornment as well. In spite of all this costliness, the retinue’s attire was still far behind that of the Duke of Burgundy, whose own clothing was strewn with gold and precious stones.

Conclusion In summary, when examining the content of the source, it should first be noted that both the author and the addressee knew exactly of which they were speaking. The terminology is simple and concise, as more detailed descriptions of fabric quality were obviously not required. The normal prices at the time also seem to have already been known or to have already been told to the court. The orders were most likely delivered directly to the recipients or to the court tailors, who were responsible for a timely finishing.36 The fabrics ordered and their colouring correspond to what can be expected for Burgundian court circles and to what visual sources to some extent show. However, Gondeval’s list is unique in the fact that it combines silk fabrics, dyes 33 Monnas, Loom Widths: p. 40. 34 Idem: p. 40. 35 The costliness of conventional black dye was not due to the basic components of blue vitriol and gallnut. The art of dying silk black lay in achieving black hues in rich tones. For this, the black dye was cast on silk fabric already dyed with long-lasting red and blue dyestuff (usually kermes and indigo). I would like to thank Doris Oltrogge for information on this topic. 36 Research on the court tailors of Charles the Bold could not be used in this context. It can be assumed that both tailors at court itself and contracted tailors were responsible for producing the clothing. A letter from the Burgundian court from the 1450s to Giovanni Arnolfini in Brussels provides us with information (ADN B2004, f. 335.): “Le XIIIIe jour du dit mois d’avril en la ville de Bruxelles d8livr8 / Colin Bossuot XXXVIII aulnes de drap de damas noir pour faire pourpoins pour les paiges et palefreniers de mondit seigneur le duc au pris de II riddres et demi l’aulne font IIIIxx XV riddres qui au pris de XLVIII gros piHce valent CXIIII livres; item le XVIIIe jour d’avril l’an mil CCCC XLVIII d8livr8 par le dit Jehan Arnoulphin / Cornille de la garde-robe de mondit seigneur pour faire habiz pour icellui monseigneur le duc XIII aulnes et I quartier de fin veloux noir / III haulteurs de poil et / double poil et XX aulnes et demye de fin veloux sur veloux noir / double poil montent les dites deux parties XXXIII aulnes et III quartiers au pris de X riddres l’aulne font IIIc XXXVIIriddres et demy qui audit pris de XLVIII gros piHce valent IIIIc V livres.” Cf. Jolivet: Pour soie: p. 346.

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chosen and cuts of clothing with names of individuals, whose positions are also described in more detail. In this respect, we can learn more from this source than from the numerous visual representations of the Burgundian court, as these visuals do not contain any names of those in the pictures. Social position and entitlement of a person can be derived directly from the quality of fabric, length of clothing and colours, as these factors are always in direct proportion to the enormous expenditure required. Clothing reflected the wealth and position of their wearer. However, if material and clothing were part of a gift, the goods bought showed how much the purchaser valued the wearer recipient. The list of expenditure for clothing materials, which was made for the meeting in Trier, shows this distinction for many different groups. Gondeval’s list does not merely disclose single cases of practices37 from this time and earlier, but instead offers close to 1,000 examples. It shows the significance of valuable silk as an indicator of social position, but also as an indicator of the duke’s personal approval and appreciation. The master, in turn, could then ensure loyal followers, which guaranteed a striking and deliberate entrance.

Appendix 1: Elements of dress Robe longue Robe demi longue Robe courte Paletot

pourpointe

Manteau Jacquete

pourpointe pourpointe

pourpointe pourpointe

(camlot: court servants gold cloth, blue velvet: body guards) (gold fabric, gold and silver fabric: guards) (blue velvet: captain of the archers)

Appendix 2: Textile qualities and colours Drap d’or Drap d’or et d’argent

chevaliers of the golden fleece body guard

Drap d’argent

body guard

Brocart d’or Brocart d’argent, tres riche Drap d’or cramoisy Velours

chancelier 12 « diseniers » Olivier de la Marche noir cramoisy violet

(25 scudi?) (no single price, only sum) (no single price, only sum) (16 scudi/cubit) (19 schudi/cubit) (14 scudi/aulne)

37 Cf. Sarah Grace Heller’s contribution on the clothing gifts of Mahaud d’Artois in this volume.

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Velours sur velours Damas

Satin figur8 Satin

Taffetas Camelot Laines divers

Annemarie Stauffer

« taint » brownish bleu jaune (for the Duke’s fool) cramoisy « teint » noir cramoisy cramoisy violet blanc bleu noir cramoisy violet noir cramoisy cramoisy violet violet vert (Duke’s fool) olive vert (Duke’s fool) couleurs vari8s (horse trappings, lining of a cloak) (no colour mentioned) Noir et violet

Qualities and colours without single garments Drap d’or Drap d’or et d’argent Velours

Damas Satin Satin

Camelot

noir cramoisy violet taint bleu noir cramoisy cramoisy violet cramoisy violet noir cramoisy cramoisy violet violet noir et violet [no colour mentioned]

(18) (110) (2) 3 (clergymen) !10 scudi? (13) (no single price)

Richard Stapleford

Household Goods in the 1492 Inventory of the Estate of Lorenzo de’ Medici

The inventory of the estate of Lorenzo de’ Medici was compiled in the immediate aftermath of his death in April 1492 in order to fix the value of the estate for his son and heir, Piero. Anonymous compilers walked through the palace from room to room, measuring the furniture, opening cabinets and chests, unfolding and inspecting clothes and fabrics and tapestries, describing the condition of musical instruments, examining elaborate clocks, counting stacks of dishes and piles of weapons, documenting the paintings and reliefs on the walls, examining cameos, coins and medals, unlocking jewel boxes to weigh gems, brooches, and rings, and even listing the various kinds of pots and pans in the kitchen. Through these lists, the day-to-day life of the family is brought into sharp focus. The document preserved in the Archivio Nazionale in Florence is a copy of the original, which was made in December 1512 for Lorenzo di Piero, Lorenzo’s grandson.1 It is on paper, bound in a parchment cover, and comprises 119 folios covering all the Medici properties, including the suburban villas (Image 6.1.) (The present article deals only with the contents of the Palazzo Medici in Florence, covered in folios 1–63). The copy seems to have been produced as part of the effort to support the Medici claim for reimbursement after their exile. The family had been expelled from Florence in 1494, largely because of the rise of anti-Medici sentiment incited by the Dominican monk Savonarola and the capitulation of Piero, Lorenzo’s son and successor, to French king Charles VIII and his invading army, whom he allowed to enter Florence as conquerors. The family left under such duress that they abandoned their property, including the Palazzo Medici with all the goods that were in it. These goods were confiscated by the State and most were sold at public auction over the course of six months, from 1 The document is preserved in the collection Mediceo Avanti il Principato, Filza 165 in the Archivio Nazionale. It was transcribed and published by Giovanna Gaeta Bertelà / Marco Spallanzani (Ed.), Libro d’inventario dei beni di Lorenzo il Magnifico, Florence 1992. The present author published an English translation and description of the part of the document that concerns the Palazzo Medici itself: Richard Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home. The Inventory of the Palazzo Medici in 1492, University Park, PA 2013.

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July through December 1495. The diarist Luca Landucci reported that on August 11th of that year, “All these days they were selling by auction in Orsanmichele Piero de’ Medici’s household effects; there were velvet counterpanes embroidered in gold, and paintings and pictures, and all kinds of beautiful things.”2 In 1512, Lorenzo’s grandson Lorenzo di Piero and his two uncles negotiated a return to Florence with the right of full compensation for the family property. Most of the goods must have been lost by that time, but the picture of daily life evoked in the lists of clothes, jewelry, furniture, and art summons up a lost golden age of privilege and material splendor. What was mundane when it was compiled became extraordinary with the passage of time. The total estimated value of the itemized goods in the inventory is 79,618 gold florins.3 For comparison purposes, the value of a florin should be understood in terms of its buying power. In 1480, one estimate of the cost of living stated that an annual income of seventy florins was sufficient to support a worker, his wife, and three or four children for one year.4 Based on US government figures for 2011, the annual cost of support for a family was $52,000. Thus 70 florins corresponds to $52,000 and the total value of Lorenzo’s goods in his city palace, in terms of buying power, is equal in contemporary currency to about $60,000,000 (about E56,796,000 as of February 2017). Comparison of the present inventory with earlier inventories of the Medici and other wealthy Florentine families reveals that the valuation of the collectibles in the inventory far exceeds that vested purely in household goods.5 Previously, the estimate of a palace’s value lay predominantly in the value of household goods such as furnishings and clothes, but in Lorenzo’s inventory only 20 percent of the value is made up of household necessities. Luxury items that are independent of the running of the household – collectibles – make up the remaining 80 percent of the total. 2 Luca Landucci, A Florentine Diary from 1450–1516. Continued by an Anonymous Writer till 1542 with Notes by Iodoco del Badia, transl. and ed. Alice De Rosen Jervis, London 1927, p. 93. Though some goods may have been stolen, the legend that the palace was sacked is false. The auction sale was conducted by the Magistrato dei Pupilli, the government agency responsible for selling goods left to minors or owned by citizens who died intestate. For the dispersal of the family property, see Jacqueline Marie Musacchio, Medici Sale of 1495 and the second-hand market for domestic goods in late fifteenth-century Florence, in: The Art Market in Italy. 15th–17th centuries, ed. Marcello Fantoni / Louisa Matthew / Sara F. MatthewsGrieco, Modena 2003, pp. 313–323; also Gino Corti / Laurie Fusco, Lorenzo de’ Medici, Collector and Antiquarian, New York 2006, pp. 159–174. 3 Note that a large number of the items are not given a monetary evaluation. Had they been they would have raised the overall value of the estate. 4 For the cost of living in Renaissance Florence see Richard A. Goldthwaite, The Building of Renaissance Florence. An Economic and Social History, Baltimore, MD/London 21982, pp. 342–350. 5 For earlier inventories see Marco Spallanzani (Ed.), Giovanni di Bicci, Cosimo e Lorenzo di Giovanni, Piero di Cosimo: Inventari medicei 1417–1465, Florence 1996; and Giovanni Rucellai, Il Zibaldone Quaresimale, ed. Alessandro Perosa, London 1960.

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Image: 6.1. Inventory of the Goods of Lorenzo de’ Medici, copy of original of 1492. Folio 1r. Archivio di Stato Firenze, Mediceo Avanti il Principato, filza 165.

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Household goods are defined as: 1. Furniture, altogether totaling only one percent of the value of the inventory. 2. Clothes and dressmaking fabrics, about five percent. 3. Household linens, including sheets and bed covers, bed-curtain sets, towels, and table linens, altogether totaling about seven percent. 4. Weapons and armor, about four percent. 5. Miscellaneous goods, including kitchen equipment, dishes, and various pots and pans, about three percent. Collectibles include: 1. Paintings and sculpture, as well as small objets d’art, totaling about five percent of the total value of the inventory. 2. Tapestries and wall hangings, 112 percent. 3. Hardstone vases, 27 percent of the entire value of the inventory. 4. Cameos and incised stones, 19 percent. 5. Gems and jewelry, 18 percent. 6. A single “unicorn horn” estimated to be worth six thousand florins, or eight percent of the inventory’s value. 7. Three distinct specialized collections: clocks, musical instruments, and Chinese porcelain, altogether totaling slightly more than one percent of the total. The Medici palace, the site of the inventory, was commissioned by Lorenzo’s grandfather, Cosimo, and his father, Piero, for themselves and their families in 1445 (Image 6.2.).6 It was square in plan, with the rooms disposed in four stories around a large, open, arcaded courtyard. The enormous size of the building was reflected in the inventory – about 66 rooms were documented. As a boy, Lorenzo watched the construction of the building and moved in in 1459 when he was ten years old (Image 6.3.). For all intents and purposes, he grew up in the palace. In 1469, upon the death of his father, he became head of the family and married Clarice Orsini, a patrician from an important Roman family. They had ten 6 For discussions of the palace, see Giovanni Cherubini / Giovanni Fanelli (Ed.), Il Palazzo Medici Riccardi di Firenze, Florence 1990; Harriet McNeal Caplow, Michelozzo, 2 vols., New York 1977; Isabelle Hyman, Fifteenth-Century Florentine Studies. The Palazzo Medici and a Ledger for the Church of San Lorenzo, New York 1977; Idem, Notes and Speculations on S. Lorenzo, Palazzo Medici, and an Urban Project by Brunelleschi, Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 34 (1975), pp. 98–120; Cristiana Acidini Luchinat / Luciano Marchetti / Gabriele Morolli, Architettura di Lorenzo il Magnifico, Florence 1992, pp. 51–62; Rab Hatfield, Some Unknown Descriptions of the Medici Palace in 1459, The Art Bulletin 52/3, 1970, pp. 232–249. For the calculation of the date of the family move, see Philip Mattox / Howard Saalman, The First Medici Palace, Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 44, 1985, pp. 329–345.

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children, six of whom survived into adulthood. When Lorenzo died, his wife had already been dead for four years, and four of their children were still living at home: Piero, Lorenzo’s first son and principal heir, was twenty-one and lived there with his wife, Alfonsina Orsini; Contessina, Lorenzo’s daughter, was fourteen; Giuliano, his son, thirteen; and Giulio, his nephew (the future Pope Clement VII) and the adopted son of his murdered brother Giuliano, was fourteen.

Image 6.2. Michelozzo, Palazzo Medici Riccardi, 1444–1459, faÅade and southeast corner in about 1890. The faÅade on the via Larga to the right is one third longer than the original, due to the addition by the Riccardi family in the 17th century. The carefully distinguished masonries of the three floors are united by the alignment of the windows and the steeply overhanging classical cornice, 10 feet high and proportioned to the whole building. Alinari / Art Resource, NY.

Image 6.3. Bust of Lorenzo de’ Medici, early 16th century based on an original of ca. 1478, painted terracotta. His expression and posture express intellectual involvement, an image calculated to represent Lorenzo as a man who lives primarily in the world of ideas. Samuel H. Kress Collection, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

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Living quarters for the principal male family members were arranged in suites of two to four rooms.7 No suites were assigned to the female members of the family. Two suites were designated as belonging to Lorenzo and one to his son, Piero. Another suite belonged to young Giuliano, who had just taken over the quarters of his brother Giovanni (the future Pope Leo X), who had recently moved out of the palazzo. The other living areas are not specified as belonging to particular family members. Each suite consisted of a camera, which served both as living room and bedchamber, an antecamera, a multipurpose auxiliary room, and another room, such as a study, an armory, or a bath and/or toilet room. Marble busts placed over the doors identified the occupants of some of the suites.8 Lorenzo had rooms on two floors: a large reception hall called a sala grande on the ground floor and another on the piano nobile, each with an attached camera and antecamera. His famous study, still called the Studiolo di Piero after his father, was connected to the suite on the upper floor. Piero, Lorenzo’s son and heir, had a prime suite. He had his own terrace, a camera, antecamera, water closet, and armory. Lorenzo’s younger brother, Giuliano, had lived there until he was murdered in the Pazzi conspiracy in 1478.9 In addition to the independent suites, the palazzo had a number of specialized rooms. A family chapel was situated in a prominent position on the piano nobile at the top of the main staircase from the ground floor. The chapel has preserved the famous Benozzo Gozzoli fresco cycle of the “Adoration of the Magi,” still almost entirely intact today. Another room on the same floor, known as the saletta, was the family dining room, and was dominated by two tables 5.25 and 6.40 meters long. Also on the same floor was a room designated as the camera della tascha (Chamber of the Bank Assets), in which there was, in addition to the expected beds and chests, an antique walnut cassone containing the bank assets. A suite of rooms on the third floor was used for food preparation, including the kitchen proper, a pantry, a bread room, a fruit storeroom, a vinegar room and the chamber of Madonna Mea, most likely the chief cook. Another suite was identified as belonging to the wet nurses and contained chests with clothes and scraps of dressmaking fabrics, as well as “four bodices for women with newborns”. An armory on the top floor was used to stockpile weapons, and another 7 For a discussion of the room layout of Florentine palaces, see Peter Thornton, The Italian Renaissance Interior: 1400–1600, New York 1991, pp. 284–320; see also Patricia Lee Rubin / Alison Wright / Penny Nicholas (Ed.), Renaissance Florence. The Art of the 1470s, London 1999, pp. 314f. For the Medici palace in particular, see Acidini Luchinat / Marchetti / Morolli, Architettura (as n. 6), pp. 55f. 8 The busts of Piero and his brother Giovanni were by Mino da Fiesole, and are now in the Bargello. See Keith Christiansen / Stefan Wepplemann (Ed.), The Renaissance Portrait: From Donatello to Bellini, New York 2011, pp. 166–168. 9 This is evidenced by the Botticelli paintings and tournament helmets that adorned the walls, part of Giuliano’s prizes for his tournament victories in 1474.

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room there was designated for a priest’s quarters. The library was on the fourth floor, though it was not inventoried.10 The final room in the inventory is the most mysterious. It is called the Chamber of the Deaf Woman (camera della muta) and contained a cell 7 meters long and 3 meters high made of wooden slats built against the wall. Inside was a wooden bed 2.6 meters long. No one knows who the original occupant was, but the twenty-five jousting lances stored here suggest that it was no longer used for the unidentified muta.11 Furniture was both moveable and built-in. Most of the individual pieces would have been familiar to modern eyes: trestle tables, benches, armchairs, credenzas, and cabinets, for example. Room arrangements would have seemed strange, however, since beds were found in almost all the rooms. There were two types of beds: the lettiera, a large four-poster bedstead usually surrounded with a podium acting as both bench and storage chests, and the lettuccio, a smaller combination bench, daybed, and storage chest, often with a high back used as a clothes rack. Almost all the rooms contained both types of beds. All the beds were fitted with rush mats, mattresses (sometimes two) stuffed with wool, down pillows and sheets, comforters and counterpanes. Bed-curtain sets were often elaborate. In Piero di Lorenzo’s chamber, the bed was surmounted by a tester with an image of “Fortune” by Botticelli, originally painted for Lorenzo’s brother Giuliano.12 A bedstead in another room was dressed with a bed-curtain set described as: “A tapestry bed-curtain set decorated with figures, that is a canopy, two side-panels and 4 curtains and a cloth panel, in the panel are figures who are organizing a tournament and others who fight with lances and weapons, ca. 9 br. [5.20 m.] long, and the canopy is of blue tapestry with birds, herons and falcons, one side-panel has figures and foliage with the motto semper and the other side-panel has figures and women mounted on horses with flowers and dogs, ca. 8 br. [4.6 m.] long, and six hangings with feathers and diamonds and mottos that say semper, all lined in green cloth and called the bedcurtains of Piero, 100 florins.”13

Although Piero, Lorenzo’s father, had been dead for twenty-three years and Giuliano for fifteen, the d8cor of their rooms still evoked their presence. A major decorative and utilitarian piece was the ubiquitous chest, a separate coffinshaped box called either a cassone or a forziere, used to store clothes, tapestries, 10 Apparently, this room was in the process of being renovated, and the books may have been in storage. See Francis William Kent, Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Art of Magnificence, Baltimore, MD 2004, pp. 45f. 11 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 194. 12 The tester was certainly commissioned by Giuliano since he ordered his 1474 tournament banner depicting “Pallas Athena” by Botticelli to be stretched and hung in his room. Ronald Lightbown, Sandro Botticelli, vol. 2: Complete Catalogue, Berkeley, CA 1978, pp. 58f. 13 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 78f.

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table linens, and similar goods. In the bedchamber of Lorenzo, for example, there were three such chests containing Lorenzo’s wardrobe, one 3.2 meters long and two 2 meters long. Such chests were sometimes decorated, as the two in Lorenzo’s chamber that depicted the “Triumphs” of Petrarch or the pair sitting on an inlaid walnut plinth in the “Chamber of Monsignore” (Giuliano’s room) that depicted the “Story of the Victory of Marcus Marcellus of Sicily”.14 Seating was supplemented by cushions and hassocks stored in chests and cabinets. For example, in a room in Lorenzo’s suite that was dedicated to women’s roles in the household, there were eighteen large leather cushions “for both benches and hassocks”, as well as thirteen pairs of pillows covered in crimson velvet, white damask, red satin, and crimson damask, feminizing additions to the hard wooden furniture.15 In some rooms, tapestries and benchback hangings (spalliere d’arazzo) enlivened the walls with colorful narrative scenes and decorative designs. In a single cassone in the Great Hall on the ground floor were stored four wall tapestries, altogether 32 meters long, including one depicting “a hunt by the Duke of Burgundy” 11.5 meters long by 3.5 meters high, valued at 100 florins.16 Bench-back tapestries to line the lower walls were stored in another cassone, including two woven with the story of Narcissus, two with the Triumph of Fame, and two with the Triumph of Love, as well as: “Six bench-back hangings with figures and horses and arms and other things, that is, in one a wild-game hunt; in another a bird hunt; another, fishing; another dancing; another musical performers; and another games, each one 12 br. [7 m.] long, f. 150.”17

These expensive woven hangings both enhanced the splendor of the rooms and warmed the dark paneling and hard plaster of the walls. Several collections are documented in the inventory. In his study and chamber on the piano nobile, Lorenzo had no fewer than seven clocks, six more than necessary to tell the time, including, “a clock in the shape of a tabernacle with moving parts and casing of gilt copper, that runs without a counterweight, with arms and putti in enamel on the face where the hour is displayed, f. 40”.18 Another special collecting interest of Lorenzo was Chinese porcelain, which he 14 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 135. 15 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 119–132. 16 The Great Hall was the site of the Uccello “Battle of San Romano” series and three other large paintings. Since the room was not big enough to accommodate both the tapestries and the paintings, these large tapestries, all stored in chests, may have been the original wall coverings for the hall, subsequently replaced by Lorenzo with the Uccello paintings and its companion pieces. The paintings total 24.5 m. in length and the tapestries 32 m. For Lorenzo’s acquisition of the Uccello paintings see Francesco Caglioti, Donatello e i Medici: Storia del David e della Giuditta, vol. 1, Florence 2000, pp. 265–281. 17 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 68f. 18 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 107f.

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kept in a dedicated cupboard in his bedchamber on the ground floor.19 Among the weapons housed in the armory was a set of five harquebuses, the ancestor to the modern rifle that was introduced into Europe at the end of the fifteenth century and eventually revolutionized warfare. A collection of musical instruments contained pipes, string instruments, and organs, including: “An organ of papier-m.ch8, well decorated with open fretwork by the hand of maestro Castellano, on a beautiful base of carved walnut, all heavily decorated and with the Medici arms and with four candle holders on which are four cherubs, all of the same wood and workmanship, and 3 bellows with lead weights, f. 200.”20

The inventory is of great importance for documenting the quality and quantity of textiles and clothing that wealthy Florentine families possessed.21 Although textiles for sheets, towels, tablecloths and other utilitarian purposes were stockpiled, specialty fabrics of the sort used for garments were not, suggesting that fabrics for clothes were selected and new garments ordered only as needed. Although we can reconstruct the fashions of men and women of the period from paintings, the clerk’s detailed description of the fabrics, including the great variety of colors, textures, and linings, provides an even more vivid image of their appearance. Women of the patrician class generally wore three layers of garments in public (Image 6.4.). First, a light linen garment similar to a shirt or shift (camicia or converciere) was worn next to the skin. These undergarments are always listed in groups in the inventory, indicating that they were generic in form rather than decorative. The next layer was a long dress (cotta or gammurra), from shoulder to floor, tight around the bodice and flaring at the waist, with or without sleeves and either plain or elaborately decorated. For public display, an overdress (bernia, cioppa or roba) completed the ensemble, often lined and of the most recherch8 fabric, also with or without sleeves and tailored so as to artfully reveal the under-dress through slashed sleeves, side slits, or an open front. The clerk’s descriptions of these garments that were stored in chests in several different rooms conjure up images of women elegantly dressed in brightly colored textured fabrics, often brocade or watered (terzanella) to create variegated color effects, lined with fur or rare silk and with inset gores of complementary colors and fabrics: a bernia shot with gold, lined in grey wool velvet; a giachetta in the form of a giornea in the Neapolitan style, of white satin 19 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 74f. For an analysis of the collection see Marco Spallanzani, Ceramiche orientali a Firenze nel Rinascimento, Florence 1978. 20 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 80. 21 Many studies that have dealt with Renaissance clothing. See Ann Rosalind Jones / Peter Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory, Cambridge, 2000; Jacqueline Herald, Renaissance Dress in Italy: 1400–1500, London/Atlantic Highlands, NJ 1981; and Carole Collier Frick, Dressing Renaissance Florence: Families, Fortunes & Fine Clothing, Baltimore, MD 2005.

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lined in iridescent taffeta; a purple (pagonazzo) damask gabbanella, brocade in gold; a green satin cotta decorated with eight pieces of gold brocade; a robetta of rose cloth lined in scarlet satin with six enameled buttons; a roba of purple velvet with facings of Spanish cat.

Image 6.4. Domenico Ghirlandaio, Portrait of Giovanna Tornabuoni, 1488. Giovanna’s elaborate garment consists of a white undershirt, a red gown embroidered with flowers and with appliqu8d crisscross ribbons. The slit sleeves and laced bodice allow the puffy white shirt to show through and a yellow cut-velvet sleeveless overgown with a stiff floor length cape down the back completes the ensemble. Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid, Spain. Photo: Lutz Braun /Art Resource, NY.

Men also wore a light linen shift next to the skin, to which they added colored hosiery consisting of either a pair of tights or two individual stockings fastened at the waist with points (laces), sometimes with attached soles. The informal dress was then completed by a doublet (farsetto), a short, tight-fitting jacket that flared over the hips. In public or for formal occasions, wealthy Florentines wore a gown (called a lucco, robetta, or vesta), a long voluminous robe covering the body from shoulders to feet equipped with wide sleeves or slit at the sides for the arms. Fabrics and linings were in contrasting colors and conspicuously luxurious, adding to the ostentation of the garment: English wool lined in fine squirrel skin, rose-colored wool lined in ermine, turquoise wool lined in crimson leather, shot satin of turquoise and crimson lined in white leather, turquoise silk twill lined in crimson taffeta, crimson velvet lined in crimson taffeta, black twill lined in black taffeta, and so on. No fewer than sixty-two of these gowns were stored in the three chests in Lorenzo’s bedchamber. The two most expensive gowns, and probably the most striking in appearance, were “a lucco of looseweave purple (pagonazzo) wool lined in crimson wool velvet, f. 60” and “a vesta

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of purple wool from Brussels lined in crimson watered silk, f. 50”.22 This collection of one-of-a-kind garments suggests that Lorenzo’s public image depended upon the conspicuous display of his wealth and sartorial taste. The great quantity of raw fabrics stored in various chests must have taxed the clerk’s skill at counting and recording. A single pine chest in an auxiliary room of Lorenzo’s second floor suite held eleven bolts of homespun linen, totaling 479 meters in length all together. In another chest, seven bolts of linen were designated for specific use in undershirts or sheets or tablecloths, including 400 meters of homespun linen for shifts.23 Other cassoni in the room held similar troves of fabric: 366 meters of homespun linen for sheets, and 259 meters of the same for shifts (chamicie).24 The clerk sometimes distinguished bolts of cloth by their place of origin: “Eight and a half pieces of starched white linen from Alexandria”, “a piece of linen from Lodi, light and beautiful”, “a beautiful piece of French linen”, “a piece of Dutch cloth”, or “a pair of sheets of locally made cloth with a double band of embroidered interlace and decoration all around, beautiful.” Plain linen cloth was bought from European countries, especially Italy and France, as well as from Eastern Mediterranean centers like Egypt. Twenty bedspreads were also kept here, including one described as “a green velvet bedspread with purple fringe all around, embroidered in gold in the Byzantine fashion, that is, glittering all over, 8 x 7 br. [2.7 x 2.3 m.], f. 100”, the same estimate as the most expensive painting in the inventory, Fra Angelico’s “Adoration of the Magi” tondo. An important part of the inventory is the large quantity of finished textile goods. Besides the sixty-two formal gowns belonging to Lorenzo, another ninety-seven garments of various kinds were listed in his son Piero’s chambers, and an equivalent number of women’s gowns were stored in several rooms. Matched pairs of sheets were supplied for each of the beds. In Piero’s chamber, twenty-four pairs of sheets were stored in a cassone along with six canopy bed curtain sets: “Eight pairs of sheets of four pieces, 5.25 m. each piece with fancy embroidered interlace, f. 160”; and “A French linen and taffeta canopy bed curtain set decorated with fine gold thread and enamels, instead of embroidered interlace, with the dome of white taffeta of the same workmanship, f. 100”. Towels for specific usages were stockpiled throughout the rooms, as in the Chamber of Madonna Mea, for example: “Thirty face towels, 2 m. each, high quality, f. 4; twenty foot towels, 2 m. each, f. 2; thirty-one head towels, that is, for drying the hair, f.1; twenty-one hairdresser’s towels, of which ten are of linen, 22 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 89. 23 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 123–129. The Florentine braccia in the inventory is equal to .583 m. 24 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 125–129. See also the bolts of cloth stored in a room on the fourth floor : Ibid., pp. 180–183.

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f. 5”.25 Table linens, runners, and napkins were stored in great quantities, some plain and generic and others elaborately decorated for a specific purpose: “Two table linen sets, the first of which the tablecloth and the runner are in the Parisian style, the tablecloth and the runner 12 br. each [7 m.], 24 br. [14 m.] in all; another set carried by Lorenzo when he went riding and includes tablecloth, runner, twelve French linen napkins, one homespun credenza cloth, a tea towel, a hand towel, a sack and a napkin, f. 14.”26

Weapons were collected and admired for their beauty and technical perfection: “Two swords in French-style scabbards, in silver, one with the scabbard in tan leather, and the other with the scabbard in grey and sky blue leather, f. 6”, and “Sixteen Turkish bows, beautiful, f. 60”.27 However, weapons were a necessary corollary of political life in the Quattrocento. More than once, plotters had made attempts on Lorenzo’s life; the Pazzi conspiracy in 1478 cost his brother Giuliano his life and almost resulted in Lorenzo’s assassination. In Lorenzo’s ground floor study were no fewer than twenty-five swords and daggers, as well as a gong and a brass horn for alarming the household in emergencies. Another twenty-five swords and daggers were stored in the cabinet around his bed and two hatchets with handles hung at his bedside.28 The top floor armory contained enough armor and weapons to equip a small army and included a field tent for use in warfare and eight catapults with a cart for transport, as well as 115 helmets, chain mail for 156 foot soldiers, 111 pairs of arm armor (brassards), 93 pairs of leg and thigh armor (cuisse and greaves), 23 sword lances, 27 rapiers, 44 fixed-position crossbows, and 37 field crossbows. The inventory, in addition to providing information about the necessities of life in an upper class palazzo, exposes the private character of an extraordinary man. Lorenzo “il Magnifico” de’ Medici was the head of the ruling political party in Florence from 1469 to 1492, a period that marks the apogee of the golden age of quattrocento Florence (Fig. 6.3). He was exceptionally well educated, fluent in Latin, educated in Greek, and a significant poet in his own right.29 Apart from the books in his famous library, he kept several handsomely bound volumes of his favorite vernacular writers, Dante and Petrarch, and one of ancient epigrams in

25 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 171. 26 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 172. 27 For a glimpse of the beauty of Renaissance weaponry see Tobias Capwell / Syndey Anglo, The Noble Art of the Sword: Fashion and Fencing in Renaissance Europe 1520–1630, London 2012. 28 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 67, 69–72. 29 For his importance in the literary world see Jon Thiem (Ed.), Lorenzo de’ Medici. Selected Poems and Prose, University Park, PA 1991, pp. 5–29.

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Greek and Latin close at hand in his study.30 The inventory description of one compilation is revealing of his tastes: “A book of Petrarch’s work, first the Triumphs, illustrated and illuminated, written in pen on pages of handmade paper, and the Songs, Sonnets, and the Vita of Dante, covered in crimson satin, with many insets, that is six on each side with Medici arms in enamel, 4 bosses on each side, one at each corner, and four enamel medallions, within which are the Muses, and one in the center depicting the sun, and gilt silver framing pieces.”31

Such a luxurious and expensive binding reflects the value Lorenzo accorded the text. A dedicated humanist, Lorenzo exhibited a predilection early in his life for collecting relics of Roman antiquity, including statuary, coins, medals, and hardstone vases. No fewer than thirty-three ancient vases and cups are listed in the inventory, accounting for a full 27 percent of the total value of the estate. The two most expensive were valued at 2,000 florins each: a jasper wine cooler (cup) with handles and silver-gilt fittings and a sardonyx ewer with base and pouring spout of gilt silver.32 In 1471, he was sent to Rome as an ambassador of Florence for the Coronation of Pope Sixtus IV, where he acquired a number of significant works: “[I] carried away two ancient marble heads with the images of Augustus and Agrippa, which the said pope gave me; and in addition I took away our dish of carved chalcedony [the Tazza Farnese] along with many other cameos and coins.”33 The Tazza Farnese, today in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale of Naples, is described in the inventory as “a bowl of sardonyx, chalcedony, and agate, within which are several figures and on the outside a head of Medusa, f. 10,000”, the highest single evaluation of any object in the inventory (Image 6.5.).34 Lorenzo was fascinated with ancient carved gems and cameos. He had a 30 His library was famous. It was built upon the collection of his father Piero. In 1465 Piero had his library inventoried and found that the estimated monetary value of his books came to 2,860 florins. Lorenzo more than doubled the size of the library holdings he inherited and after his death the collection became the Biblioteca Laurenziana housed at S. Lorenzo. Francis Ames-Lewis, The Library and Manuscripts of Piero di Cosimo de’ Medici, New York 1984; Judith Hook, Lorenzo de’ Medici. An Historical Biography, London 1984, p. 127. 31 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 112. The clerk was unable to assign a monetary value to this or to any of the twenty books in the study. 32 For the vases, see Eva Helfenstein, Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Magnificent Cups: Precious Vessels as Status Symbols in Fifteenth-Century Europe, I Tatti Studies in the Italian Renaissance 16/1/2 (2013), pp. 415–444. For the use of decorative arts in Renaissance palaces, see Goldthwaite, Building of Renaissance Florence (as n. 4), pp. 400–407. Lorenzo owned thirty more hardstone vases that are not listed in the inventory : Corti / Fusco, Il Palazzo (as n. 1), pp. 92–96. 33 Corti / Fusco, Il Palazzo (as n. 1), pp. 6, 337. 34 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 96.

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Image 6.5. Tazza Farnese, Roman sardonyx-agate bowl, 20 cm. in diameter, second-first century B.C. Obtained by Lorenzo in 1471 from Pope Sixtus IV. The figures depicted are Hades holding a cornucopia, Isis and Horus at the right. Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples. Vanni/Art Resource, NY.

collection numbering 126 individual pieces, seventy-five of which are listed and described in the inventory.35 One was the famous Noah cameo, now in the British Museum, described as “a large cameo framed in gold, called the Ark, depicting 8 figures, 4 men and 4 women, an angel in the sky, a pair of horses, 2 lions and many other animals carved on the reverse with foliage, f. 2000”.36 Most of the pieces were described without subjects: for example, “a large carnelian with three figures carved out in more than half relief, one partially clothed and standing with a lyre in his hand, with a nude figure kneeling at his feet, the other with the head of an old man, seated with his hands behind him tied to a tree, f. 1000”.37 This is the famous Apollo and Marsyas carnelian, now in the Museo Nazionale in Naples, whose subject was inexplicable to the clerk, although not to Lorenzo. The appreciation of these small concentrated images required close examination and thoughtful reflection, thus revealing the mind of a private person of poetic meditative sensibilities with a passion for antiquity. In spite of the high evaluation of the hardstone vases and cameos, which together make up 46 percent of the value of the entire inventory, the artwork in the palazzo is, to modern eyes, its most conspicuous glory. When Lorenzo became head of the family upon the death of his father in 1469, the palace had been lived in for a decade and was fully decorated. Its rooms were paneled and furnished, and the large expanses of wall were adorned with paintings, relief sculpture, and tapestries. The clerk documented 139 paintings and sculptures, for which he provided the names of artists for only forty-four works.38 Only

35 Corti / Fusco, Il Palazzo (as n. 1), pp. 92–96. 36 The cameo, now in the British Museum, was produced in the workshop of Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II in 1204–1250, though it is probable that Lorenzo believed it to be ancient Roman. 37 Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 100. 38 The number does not include the painted fronts of the decorated cassoni, the enamels and

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about seventeen can be identified with certainty today. Most of the artwork had been bought by his father and grandfather as part of the one-time expenses intended to complete the palace interior decoration. The selection of artists represents the taste of a discerning Quattrocento family of collectors. Among the artists mentioned by name are many of the giants of early Renaissance painting, including Giotto and Masaccio, each represented by two paintings. The most collected sculptor was Donatello, whose well-documented relationship with Cosimo accounts for the frequent appearance of his works. He is cited with four reliefs in the list, although we know of at least two other works by him in the palazzo. These were his “David” and “Judith and Holofernes”, two full-sized freestanding bronze sculptures that were set up in the courtyard and the garden. The only other sculptors to be identified by name are Desiderio da Settignano and Bertoldo di Giovanni with “a bronze relief above the fireplace with many horses and nude men, that is a battle scene” (now in the Bargello).39 The many other marble and bronze works hanging on the walls are unattributed in the inventory, though scholars can occasionally attach attributions to works. Two images of the Madonna and Child are described as “glazed”, an indication that Luca della Robbia executed them. The marble busts of Piero and Giovanni described in the inventory above the doors to their rooms are most likely the portrait busts signed by Mino da Fiesole, now in the Bargello.40 Among painters, the most frequently named is Fra Angelico. He is identified as the painter of six works, including an “Adoration of the Magi” tondo (completed by Filippo Lippi, now in the National Gallery of Art in Washington), valued at 100 florins and the most expensive painting in the inventory. This evaluation is a small fraction of the 10,000 florins assigned to the Tazza Farnese and is a striking demonstration of the disparity in relative worth between contemporary art works and ancient relics in the Quattrocento. Filippo Lippi is represented with two citations and the “Adoration of the Magi” tondo, but three more paintings by him are also known to have been in the collection: the “Virgin Adoring the Child with Saint Bernard”, the unattributed altarpiece in the family chapel (Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen in Berlin), and two panels now in London, an “Annunciation” and “Seven Saints”.41 Pesellino is represented by small ivory and soapstone carvings, or the Byzantine mosaic panels that Lorenzo kept in his study. 39 Bertoldo’s friendship with Lorenzo is well known but the identification of a room in the palazzo as belonging to Bertoldo, a commonly repeated assertion, is mistaken. The inventory clearly refers to the room as that of a servant and not a friend of Lorenzo: “Continuing the inventory in the room above the stair that leads above the loggia, and first the chamber of Bertoldo, that is the servants’ room.” Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), p. 82. 40 See Christiansen / Wepplemann, The Renaissance Portrait (as n. 8), pp. 166–168. 41 These paintings were probably fixed in place as overdoors and thus protected from removal

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four paintings and a collaboration with Filippo Lippi.42 Pollaiuolo painted three large canvases (3.5 m2 each) of the “Labors of Hercules” for the great reception hall on the piano nobile. They were hung along with two equally large paintings, a “Saint John” by Andrea da Castagno and “Lions in a Cage” by Pesellino.43 During his twenty-three years as sole head of the household, Lorenzo, whom history considers the great aesthete and promoter of Florentine art, bought little artwork to decorate the walls of his home, perhaps as few as ten pieces. The artwork he did add consisted of a set of three paintings depicting his joust in 1469 by Lo Scheggia, a “Portrait of Galeazzo Maria Sforza” by Piero del Pollaiuolo to celebrate a ducal visit in 1471, the bronze battle scene by Bertoldo di Giovanni of ca. 1480, two paintings by Botticelli, and three “Battle of San Romano” paintings by Uccello.44 This notably short list of additions demonstrates that although Lorenzo hung a few works on his walls for personal reasons, he felt no need to add to the collection assembled by his elders. He did not collect art by contemporary painters and sculptors. However, throughout his entire life, he bought coins, cameos, antique vases, and other collectibles, items that filled his study and account for more than 70 percent of the estimated value of the entire inventory. The image of Lorenzo in contemporary descriptions is often tinged with bias for political purposes. In the inventory, however, his possessions, packed away in chests, stacked in cupboards, and hanging on the walls of his private palace have the unique value of presenting a true picture of the man, unadulterated by legend or contrivance. This is the private world he lived in, constructed by himself and his family over his lifetime.

for auction in 1494. They were bought directly from the palazzo in 1858 but were not recorded by the clerk, suggesting that they were in the library, the only part of the palazzo that he did not visit. See Jill Dunkerton / Susan Foister / Dillian Gordon / Nicholas Penny, Giotto to Dürer. Early Renaissance Painting in the National Gallery, New Haven, CT 1991, p. 274. 42 The attribution of an “Adoration of the Magi” to Pesellino has been refuted and it is now considered to be by Domenico Veneziano. Hellmut Wohl, The Paintings of Domenico Veneziano: ca. 1410–1461, New York 1980, pp. 120–123. 43 Both St. John and caged lions are symbols of Florence, suggesting that the ensemble may represent the Herculean labors of the Medici family in guiding the fortunes of Florence. 44 For the Verrocchio portrait see Christiansen / Wepplemann, The Renaissance Portrait (as n. 8), pp. 169–171. The Botticelli paintings were a painted bed canopy depicting Fortune in Giuliano’s room and a Pallas Athena painting that originally had been the banner carried before Giuliano at his coming-of-age joust in 1474: Stapleford, Lorenzo de’ Medici at Home (as n. 1), pp. 143, 157; Lightbown, Botticelli (as n. 12), pp. 58f. For the Uccello paintings see Caglioti, Donatello e i Medici (as n. 16).

Hedda Reindl-Kiel

The Empire of Fabrics: The Range of Fabrics in the Gift Traffic of the Ottomans

When I started to prepare this paper I was in quite a rare position for a historian: I did not know which of the many textiles inventories I should use. This abundance of sources is connected with two features of the Ottoman Empire. The first is a highly developed chancery system, and the second is the textile-based lifestyle of the pre-modern Ottoman world. From the early 16th century onwards we have a series of a specific type of ruznamÅe (“journal”) inventories (often called in‘amat defteri, “register of benefactions”), listing daily expenses for gifts and charity by the sultan. If we leave aside cash donations, most of the gifts consisted of robes of honour or fabrics. These records are normally written in siyakat,1 a type of script used particularly by the Ottoman financial administration, making them difficult to read because diacritical points are often omitted. The same goes for several registers of fabric purchases by the royal palace that have survived from the 16th century. Inventories of the royal treasury were occasionally compiled, but the early records of the 16th century in particular raise questions regarding their completeness.2 These documents are a valuable supplementary source for textiles and other items of material culture. The range of luxury fabrics is recorded time and again in inventories of special gifts made at princely circumcisions and weddings of royal princesses. From the 17th and 18th century a number of treasury registers of high-ranking dignitaries survived the hardships of time, mostly because their original owner had been executed and his assets confiscated by the state. In some cases the 1 See Lajos Fekete, Die Siya¯qat-Schrift in der türkischen Finanzverwaltung. 2 vols. Budapest: Akad8miai Kiado, 1955. Said Öztürk, Osmanlı Ars¸iv Belgelerinde Siyakat Yazısı ve Tarih% Gelis¸imi [“The Siyakat-Script in Ottoman Archival Records and its Historical Development”]. Istanbul: Osmanlı Aras¸tırmaları Vakfı, 1996. 2 Examples are Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi (Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum; henceforth TSMA), D. 10026 (from 1505); D. 5 (from 1513–14); D. 6 (from 1518); D. 1023 (from 1531–2) is clearly a fragment.

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treasury accounting stemmed from a dignitary who had been a slave (kul) of the ruler. Although this circumstance played no role in his daily life, it meant that the sultan by law would inherit his possessions.3 Since these records usually itemise objects entering the treasury as presents, archive catalogues and researchers refer to them sometimes as “gift registers” (hediye defteri). Confiscated or inherited goods were not automatically delivered to the state treasury. In principle the sultan had a personal treasury, hazine-i enderun, “inner treasury” kept separate from the state-owned hazine-i birun, “outer treasury”, but the division was not always clear-cut in practice. Specialists would first separate the wheat from the chaff, selling objects of no interest on the open market, while registering and depositing valuables in the treasury. Not only jewellery, silver and gold objects, clocks and watches, precious weapons, Chinese porcelain and books were regarded as valuable, but also all kinds of textiles and furs. In fact, textiles generally formed the lion’s share of the estate recorded for deceased of wealthy background, and textiles were also a normal part of diplomatic gifts. Unfortunately for today’s researchers, though, no account books specifically for diplomatic gifts were kept. Such gifts were recorded in individual documents and in parallel entries found among diverse unrelated expenses in registers kept by the finance administration. This makes diplomatic gifting difficult to trace. We list here only the most obvious inventories containing information on textiles. There is far more ample documentation to be found in the archives. While it is true that the history of Ottoman textiles, which is still in its infancy, cannot be recounted based on merely a handful of inventories, our attempt to identify several features and provide a rough sketch of textile fashions should be seen as a preliminary approach. While our focus here lies on the Ottoman society, we should keep in mind that textile-based lifestyles were prevalent across the entire Islamic Middle East. Middle Eastern and Ottoman houses lacked the heavy furniture of their Western counterparts. Instead the homes of wealthy people were equipped and decorated with a wide rank of textiles, with carpets, flat weaves (kilims) or silk embroideries covering the floor, with low couches (usually running on three sides along 3 An example might be the case of Kaplan Mustafa Pasha, Grand Admiral of the Ottoman Fleet (1666–1672 and 1678–1680). For his treasury register see Hedda Reindl-Kiel, “Luxury, Power Strategies and the Question of Corruption: Gifting in the Ottoman Elite (16th–18th Centuries),” Yavuz Köse – Tobias Völker (eds.), S¸ehr.y%n: Die Welt der Osmanen, die Osmanen in der Welt: Wahrnehmungen, Begegnungen und Abgrenzungen./Illuminating the Ottoman World: Perceptions, Encounters and Boundaries. Festschrift Hans Georg Majer. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag 2012, pp. 109–112 and 120. For the legal background see Joseph Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic Law. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1964, pp. 127–130, 170.

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the wall of the reception room), cushions and sitting pads, with wall hangings and various curtains (for windows, doors, porticos, fireplaces) – to name only the most prominent textile artefacts. In daily life a range of kerchiefs, napkins, towels, often richly embroidered, also played an important role. ‘Bare’ surfaces were not particularly well-regarded. Nor were objects left uncovered. Thus a turban taken off for the night, for example, would be placed on and wrapped in a special (mostly embroidered) kerchief. A fairly important textile accoutrement was a wrapper known as a bog˘Åa, (today : bohÅa), which served for storing garments, transporting smaller purchases and presenting gifts. Similar to Western practices, clothing had a particularly prominent place in the field of conspicuous consumption by the Ottomans. Apparel would convey information about a person’s rank, and the garb of an individual’s attendants would underscore this message. The imperial court, which served as a model for the households of the grandees, would provide its slaves and household members with new clothing twice a year. In the 16th century the members of the State Council, above all the grand vizier and the viziers of the Dome (kubbe veziri), would each receive one set of summer garments in March and one winter outfit in December. We know this from an imperial register of benefactions (in‘amat defteri) covering the years 1503–1517 (Muharrem 909-Zilhicce 917).4 The spring and summer dress for viziers consisted of two garments. The first one was called a Åuka-ı eg˘ in, which designates a coat or a surkaftan.5 It was made from red “Frankish” velvet, “Frankish” signifying here Italian, and was heavily worked with gold (müzehheb), either brocaded or embroidered. The second garment was a “mirahor%” dress, the type of robe-of-honour most frequently to be found in registers of the 16th century. Michael Rogers sees in it an adoption of a Mamluk robe-of-honour6 but, alas, does not give further information. Two en-

4 Atatürk Kitaplıg˘ı (Atatürk Library, Istanbul), Muallim Cevdet (henceforth: MC) 71 (former shelfmark: Muallim Cevdet 93), fols. 1b–255a; fols. 256b–273b, contain data for the years 918–933 (1512–1527) concerning the allotment of bog˘cas (“bundle”, today : bohÅa) to female members of the Ottoman dynasty and a few high-ranking ladies from the ruling elite and the royal court. The part covering the year 909 (1503–4) is published in Ömer Lütfü Barkan, “I˙stanbul Saraylarına ait Muhasebe Defterleri” [‘Account Books of the Palaces of Istanbul’], Belgeler IX/13 (1979), pp. 296–380. 5 The ‘Historical Lexicon of Persian Clothing’ in the Encyclopaedia Iranica lists cˇuka as meaning “coat”, see http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/clothing-xxvii. The word eg˘in, which Barkan, in “I˙stanbul Saraylarına ait Muhasebe Defterleri”, p. 355, # 335 and 337, understood as a proper name, has the meaning “over”, “outer”, see Franciscus / Mesgnien Meninski, Thesaurus Linguarum Orientalium Turcicae-Arabicae-Persicae. Lexicon Turcico-ArabicoPersicum. Wien: 1680, reprint: Istanbul: Simurg, 2000, col. 360. 6 Michael Rogers, “An Ottoman Palace Inventory of the Reign of Beyazid II”, Jean-Louis Bacqué-Grammont – Emeri van Donzel (eds.), Comit8 international d’8tudes pr8-ottomanes et ottomans: VIth Symposium, Cambridge, 1rst–4th July 1984 (Varia Turcica IV) Istanbul-

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tries (dated 22 Cemazi II 949/3 October 1542) in a later register suggest that mirahor% indicates a category superior to that of a hil‘at (robe-of-honour).7 In the case of the viziers it was made of plain red Italian velvet and had plain golden hems (ba-etekli-i zer-i sade),8 in all likelihood referring to short slashes on both sides.9 The winter outfit for the viziers was not very different from the spring equivalent, except that coat and dress were lined with sable fur. Additionally the hems of the coat were decked with a grid-like golden pattern.10 The court’s exclusive use of Italian velvet for the holiday finery of the government’s top officials points to a superiority of the Italian product. Coats, such as those received by the viziers for spring, were given on 16 December 1504 to the “envoys of the ruler of the province of the Kaiser (Cesar), who had brought gifts (pis¸kes¸)”.11 These envoys, Hanns Freiherr von Königsegg and Conte Galeazzo di Malzo, came from the German Emperor Maximilian I.12 The other garments that the two envoys obtained were of a slightly more modest manufacture than those of the viziers. One (probably for Königsegg) was again a mirahor% dress of velvet, heavily worked with gold and patterned with the chintamani motif (benek). It must be this coat which is recorded in the 16th-century Zimmern chronicle as “a golden coat” (“ain guldin rock”) and was kept in the castle of Königseck in memory of the diplomatic mission. Unfortunately it has since long gone the way

7

8 9

10 11 12

Paris-Leiden: Institut FranÅais d’Etudes Anatoliennes Pditions Divit, 1987, p. 45. Unfortunately he gives no indication as to how he came to this conclusion. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi (Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry ; henceforth BOA), D.BRZ 20614, p. 12. The entries concern textile gifts for the Princes Mehmed and Selim on the occasion of their appointment to their first governorship. The entries (which usually follow a hierarchical order) first name the mirahor% garments and then the hil‘at attires. Two mirahor% dresses were made of “Frankish” (i. e. Italian) velvet and one of seraser (v. infra) from Istanbul, while the hil‘ats were tailored from Bursa velvet and also included a robe of velvet patterned in the Haccı Ali style (münakkas¸-ı Haccı Ali). Bursa and Istanbul silk fabrics were of considerably lower price than those of Italian provenance (Anna Contadini, “Sharing a Taste? Material Culture and Intellectual Curiosity around the Mediterranean, from the Eleventh to the Sixteenth Century”, eadem and Claire Norton, The Renaissance and the Ottoman World. Farnham, Surrey : Ashgate, 2013, p. 48). Barkan, “I˙stanbul Saraylarına ait Muhasebe Defterleri”, p. 555; MC 71, fols. 51a, 85a, 100b, 126a. For a general outline of the cut of Ottoman kaftans see Iris Gräfin Vitzthum, “On Continuity and Geometry : The Cut of the Ottoman Kaftan”, Deniz Erduman-C ¸ alıs¸ (ed.), Tulpen, Kaftane und Levn% /// Tulips, Kaftans and Levn%: Höfische Mode und Kostümalben der Osmanen aus dem Topkapı Palast Istanbul/// Imperial Ottoman Costumes and Miniature Albums from Topkapı Palace in Istanbul. Munich: Hirmer Verlag, 2008, pp. 136–139. MC 71, fol. 43a, 75b, 117b. MC 71, fol. 43b. On this mission see Franz Babinger, “Zwei diplomatische Zwischenspiele im deutschosmanischen Staatsverkehr unter B.jez%d II. (1497 und 1504)”, idem, Aufsätze und Abhandlungen zur Geschichte Südosteuropas und der Levante. I., Munich: Südosteuropa-Verlagsgesellschaft, 1962, pp. 266–268.

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of all flesh.13 The other garment is only described as a dotted (benek) dress from Bursa, without specifying the fabric. It might have been velvet again, but a contemporary treasury inventory of Sultan Bayezid II reveals that light satin (atlas) and kemha could also be called benek.14 Kemha is a heavy silk weave which had the uppermost weft reinforced with silver or gold-wrapped thread.15 Furthermore, both envoys were each supplied with three dress-lengths of velvet, Königsegg with gold-worked Bursa-Åatma (voided velvet), dotted Bursa-velvet, and striped velvet. Malzo’s haul consisted of dotted gold-worked Bursa velvet, striped material of the same provenance and uncut velvet (kadife-i ris¸te), also from Bursa.16 Unfortunately no return gifts for the German Emperor are recorded in the register. Earlier, on 29 September 1503, “Andrea [Gritti], the ambassador of the lords of Venice” had received his “honorary presents”. In this case we have both his own report17 and the Ottoman record: 5,000 akÅe18 in cash, a coat or surkaftan (Åuka-ı eg˘ in) of red Italian velvet, heavily worked with gold (müzehheb; in the Italian text: vesta d’oro), a mirahori dress of red voided velvet (Åatma) from Bursa with brocade. Additionally, his men, his secretary,19 his interpreter and the captain of the ship he came with would be endowed with dresses.20 This corresponded to the normal standard of honouring an envoy of a non-Muslim state and, on 14 June 1504, the same was again bestowed on the next envoy, Zorzi.21 In a register of daily expenses (ruznamÅe) covering the years of 1542–154522 the fabrics for the top class of robes of honour were still of “Frankish” (Italian) 13 Or as a 20th-century member of the Königsegg family put it, “must have become a victim of the moths” (Babinger, “Zwei diplomatische Zwischenspiele”, p. 268). 14 TSMA, D. 10026, fol. 3 b. For a general overview over this inventory see Rogers, “An Ottoman Palace Inventory of the Reign of Beyazid II”, pp. 39–53. The “full annotated text of the inventory”, which was to be published “as an occasional paper of the British Museum”, alas never appeared. 15 Hülya Tezcan, Atlaslar atlası. Pamuklu, Yün ve ˙Ipek Kumas¸ Koleksiyonu/Cotton, Woolen and Silk Fabrics Collection. Istanbul: YKB, 1993, p. 32 and 33. Nevber Gürsu, The Art of Turkish Weaving Designs through the Ages. Istanbul: Redhouse Press, 1988, p. 27, describes it as “woven in a compound satin with supplemental twill weave”. Its design is produced by means of a complex technique featuring supplemental wefts in silver and gilt thread. 16 MC 71, fol. 43 b. 17 Marino Sanuto: I Diarii. V. Federico Stefani (ed.), Venice 1881, c. 452. 18 In 1503 the daily wage of an unskilled construction worker in Istanbul was around 4.5–5 akÅe, see S¸evket Pamuk: ˙Istanbul ve Diger Kentlerde 500 Yıllık Fiyatlar ve Ücretler, 1469–1998/500 Years of Prices and Wages in Istanbul and Other Cities. Ankara: T.C. Bas¸bakanlık Devlet I˙statistik Enstitüsü, 2000, p. 69. 19 “The man of the Lords of Venice” in the Ottoman text. He received 2,000 akÅe and a dotted robe (called vesta d’oro in the Italian text). 20 Barkan, I˙stanbul Saraylarına ait Muhasebe Defterleri, p. 313. MC 71, fols. 1b–32a. 21 MC 71, fol. 32b. The range of robes and money remained approximately the same at the audience on 22 April 1511, ibidem, fol. 222b. 22 BOA, D.BRZ.d. 20614.

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provenance.23 But we witness a gradual tendency towards domestic materials, such as kemha, voided, spotted and uncut velvet from Bursa, and seraser (a taquet8 weave) from Istanbul; and kemha was also woven in Amasya, while uncut velvet was additionally produced in Göynük.24 In these years the costly seraser, either from Yazd or from Istanbul, would be presented to the royal court by high-ranking dignitaries, but as a gift by the sultan it was given only within the royal family25. The regular reference to Yazd as provenance of seraser and the fabric’s name (sar-a-sar: “from one end to the other”) suggest the material’s origin in Iran.26 As the fabric was only hesitantly put into use by the royal court, it must have been copied first by private workshops in Istanbul, before the royal manufacture eventually started to produce it for the imperial court. The top-ofthe-range robes of honour would be tailored (at least until May 154527) in ¸sib, a material which is across the board labelled as “Frankish” (Italian). Velvets for highly ceremonial purposes were still imports from Venice, Florence or other Italian centres of weaving,28 but by 1542 the bulk of fabrics employed by the royal court already consisted of domestic products. This shift in favour of textiles manufactured in the Ottoman realm is usually attributed to grand vizier Rüstem Pasha, who wanted to curb large-scale imports of luxury fabrics from Italy.29 Yet, as our register indicates, the change in the economic climate at the royal court had already commenced before his coming to power.30 Rüstem Pasha had a personal interest in promoting the domestic production: he had himself invested in the silk industry and owned looms in Bursa.31 From the envoys of Dubrovnik he (as well as the other viziers) regularly received small samples of 23 When, for example, on 5 February 1543 the Grand Admiral Hayreddin ‘Barbarossa’ received the official order for the campaign against Spain in the Western Mediterranean, he was equipped with a robe of embossed red double-faced Italian ¸sib (warp of gold or silver fibres and weft of silk) and a lining of uncut velvet from Bursa. Another attire was of red Florentine velvet with simple gold-worked slashes on the sides, D.BRZ.d. 20614, p. 57. 24 See, for example D.BRZ.d. 20614, p. 12. 25 An exception were two attires for Cihangir, the son of the late Crimean Khan Sa‘det, D.BRZ.d. 20614, p. 145. 26 In Willem Floor, The Persian Textile Industry in Historical Perspective, 1500–1925. Paris: Soci8t8 d’Histoire de l’Orient – L’Harmatan, 1999, the name is not mentioned though. 27 D.BRZ.d. 20614, p. 279. 28 D.BRZ.d. 20614, pp. 57, 68, 143, 222. 29 See Gülru Necipog˘ lu, “From International Timurid to Ottoman: A Change of Taste in Sixteenth-Century Ceramic Tiles”, Muqarnas 7 (1990), p. 155. Rüstem Pasha became second vizier in May 1541and grand vizier on 2 December 1544. 30 For the austerity policy of Rüstem Pasha’s predecessors Ayas Pasha and Lütfi Pasha see Gülru Necipog˘ lu, “Süleyman the Magnificent and the Representation of Power in the Context of Ottoman-Hapsburg-Papal Rivalry”, The Art Bulletin 71/3 (1989), pp. 421–123. 31 Zahit Atçıl, State and Government in the Sixteenrh Century Ottoman Empire: The Grand Vizierates of Rustem Pasha (1544–1561). Ph.D Dissertation: The University of Chicago, 2015, p. 285.

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noble Italian fabrics. In 1542 he requested samples of sacrafocci, and in the following years asked for some sample-cuts of various velvets and fine silk fabrics, which had to be presented to him ‘secretly’. In 1546 small pieces of velvet were to be produced for him in Venice; the order was accompanied by a pattern. A year later he was clandestinely provided with ten bolts of fine wool broadcloth (sopramanni).32 Given Rüstem Pasha’s economic engagement in the textile sector, the secrecy of these dealings suggests a kind of industrial espionage. There was, however, also a more official exchange, for which the register of 1542–45 contains some hints. On 5 February 1543 several small pieces of ¸sib and Venetian velvet were handed over to Yunus Beg˘, the head dragoman,33 for carrying them off as samples.34 As this entry follows the list of gifts for the French envoy, it is possible that the latter was the final recipient, but there is no proof. On 3 March 1545 Stefano Tiepolo, the legate sent by the Serenissima to congratulate the Sultan on his victories in Hungary,35 received three sample-cuts of ¸sib, in red, grey and green, via the dragoman Hasan Beg˘36 and the Åavus¸ (messenger) Bali Beg˘.37 These samples make only sense, if they were accompanying an order to a weaving mill. Thus, it is evident that also the royal palace played an active role in establishing common tastes between Italy and the Ottoman Empire. In this context it is interesting that, in the second half of the 16th century, many Venetian and Ottoman silks and velvets can only be distinguished by technical analysis, as they differ neither in quality nor in design.38 A considerable number of sumptuous caftans from members the Ottoman dynasty have survived the hardships of time. As the samples of the 16th century represent the peak of Ottoman weaving art, silks and velvets of this period have been studied in detail.39 32 James D. Tracy, “The grand vezir and the small republic: Dubrovnik and Rüstem Pasha, 1544–1561”, Turkish Historical Review I (2010), pp. 209–212. 33 Cf. Jean-Louis Bacqué-Grammont, “f propos de Y0nus Beg, bas¸ tercüman de Soliman le Magnifique”, Fr8d8ric Hitzel (ed.), Istanbul et les langues orientales. Actes du colloque organis8 par l’IFPA et l’INALCO / l’occasion du bicentenaire de l’ðcole des Langues Orientales (Istanbul 29–31 mai 1995). Paris-Montr8al: L’Harmattan, 1997, pp. 23–39. 34 D.BRZ d. 20614, p. 57. 35 Maria Pia Pedani, “Elenco degli inviati diplomatici veneziani presso i sovrani ottoman”, EJOS V (2002), No. 4, p. 27. http://venus.unive.it/mpedani/onlinepapers/044_ejos_pedani_ envoys.pdf (accessed 5 November 2016). 36 See Josef Matuz, “Die Pfortendolmetscher zur Herrschaftszeit Süleyma¯ns des Prächtigen”, Südost-Forschungen 34 (1975), p. 52. 37 D.BRZ d. 20614, p. 260. 38 Hülya Bilgi, C ¸ atma & Kemha: Ottoman silk textiles. Istanbul: Sadberk Hanım Müzesi, 2007, p. 18. For the interlacing of Italian and Ottoman textile patterns and styles see Contadini, “Sharing a Taste?” pp. 43–53. 39 Julian Raby and Alison Effeny (eds.), ˙Ipek: Imperial Ottoman Silks and Velvets. London: Azimuth Editions, 2001.

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A document recording the gifts for the greatest festival in the six hundred year-long history of the Ottoman dynasty, the circumcision feast for Prince Mehmed (later Mehmed III) in 1582, provides us with a hierarchy of costly fabrics.40 Virtually all gifts arriving for that occasion were comprised of fabrics. The gift packages of the grandees usually included seraser, the most regal of all Ottoman fabrics, almost exclusively worn at ceremonial occasions at the royal court and therefore virtually never part of gift exchange beyond the imperial palace; Åatma, voided velvet, sometimes used for ceremonial dress, but more often used for upholstering, especially for cushion covers; benek, a silk weave with the chintamani motif; kemha, a heavy silk, with additional silver or goldwrapped threads on the upper side of the weft; atlas, a light, but somewhat stiff satin, usually unpatterned, over centuries the most frequent fabric for clothing among the elite and beyond; and kutni, normally a blend of cotton (sometimes flax) in the warp and silk in the weft (sometimes pure silk), which was also widely used for garments,41 because it was considered to be religiously admissible (for men to wear pure silk is in theory prohibited by Hanefi Islamic law). The habit of presenting fabrics as gifts in a hierarchical order has its origins in the patrimonial structure of society, where gifts were not exchanged by individuals but by heads of households, who would redistribute the received items according to the status of the respective member in the group. Although we have a number of “gift inventories” that highlight the eminent role of presents in Ottoman society, it is not easy to determine the approximate share of textiles in an Ottoman gift package. The problem is that grand households would keep different classes of items, such as artefacts for everyday life, horses, equestrian equipment or weapons. Gifted slaves – a not infrequent choice of present – often do not appear at all in the registers. Yet, we might state with some certainty that textiles generally formed the major part of Ottoman gifting practice. For this reason Michael Rogers spoke of textiles as the “currency of the Ottoman honours’ system”.42 Unfortunately we do not have at our disposal any inventories documenting gift exchange outside the royal palace before the 17th century. Records of this kind are treasury inventories containing the book-keeping of incoming and 40 Hedda Reindl-Kiel, “Power and Submission: Gifting at Royal Circumcision Festivals in the Ottoman Empire (16th–18th Centuries),” Turcica 41 (2009), pp. 49–50. 41 The fabric has been revivified in Gaziantep during the last years. This modern kutnu reminds of rep. As the textile curator of the Budapest Museum of Applied Arts, Dr Emese P#sztor, kindly informed me, the kutni of old times was a weave (despite its warp of cotton and its weft of silk) resembling atlas. I thank her very much for this valuable communication. 42 Michael Rogers, “Ottoman Luxury Trades and their Regulation”, Hans Georg Majer (ed.), Osmanistische Studien zur Wirtschafts- und Sozialgeschichte. In memoriam Vancˇo Bosˇkov. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1986, p. 139.

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outgoing gifts. Since these registers serve practical purposes, they are not arranged according to dates, but follow the order of the stored items. More often than not the owner of the treasury is only given as “our lord”. These inventories must have been drawn up by two persons: the treasurer who would inspect and evaluate incoming objects and dictate the results to a scribe, mostly a man of modest literary education. The outcome is sometimes barely comprehensible, because the scribe would just note what he understood. Consider the following example: a note added to the record of a white Indian cotton fabric says “for our Lord Halil Beg˘ a soap and a robe was cut”.43 ‘Soap’, sabun, was evidently a mishearing for zıbun, “waistcoat”. In this manner, the names of fabrics are sometimes deformed beyond recognition. In an inventory listing the gifts received by the 8minence grise of these years, Tüccarzade Silahdar Mustafa Pasha, from various officials in Istanbul in 1636–1637,44 the most prominent fabric mentioned is darayı, a silk weave that is considered to have been a light silk, related to taffeta.45 Originally it came from Iran. In Yazd daraye is produced to this very day ; it is an ikat, either of light silk or of cotton. Silahdar Mustafa’s inventory indeed mentions darayı as an import from Kashan,46 but also as a fabric from Hawran47 (in the south-west of Syria) and from Damascus.48 Yet, more often than not the fabric’s provenance is not given. It appears as a material for dresses such as kaftans,49 light coats (kerrake),50 loose robes (entari),51 and outer robes (cübbe)52 in a varied range of colours, such as crimson (kırmızı), light blue (mavi), violet (menus¸), black, flame-red (al), purplish pink (erguv.n%), sea-green (ceng.r%) and multi-coloured (alaca). An official register of market prices reveals that the fabric was also imitated in Florence,53 in a seven-coloured variety and in an embossed version (taraklı darayı).54 In the 18th century darayı was used for flags and banners.55 A 43 Halil Beg˘ efendimize bir sabun ve bir antari kesildi. BOA, D.BS¸M 1371, p. 3. 44 TSMA, D. 525. 45 Fahri Dalsar, Türk Sanayi ve Ticaret Tarihinde Bursa’da ˙IpekÅilik. [The Silk Production of Bursa in Turkish Industrial and Commercial History] I˙stanbul: Sermet Matbaası, 1960, p. 57. 46 TSMA, D. 525, fols. 9b, 13a, 17b, 19b, 25 b, 29b, 62b. 47 TSMA, D. 525, fol. 8a. 48 TSMA, D.525, fol. 10b. 49 TSMA, D.525, fol. 10b. 50 TSMA, D.525, fols. 10b, 11a. 51 TSMA, D.525, fol. 11a. 52 TSMA, D.525, fols. 10b, 11a/b. 53 On Florentine silk exports to the Ottoman Empire, see Miki IIDA, “Florentine Textiles for the Ottoman Empire in the Seventeenth Century”, Mediterranean World 21 (2012), pp. 179–196. 54 Mübahat S. Kütükog˘ lu, Osmanlılarda Narh Müessesesi ve 1640 Narh Defteri. [The Institution of Official Market Prices and the Register of Official Market Prices of 1640] Istanbul: Enderun, 1983, p. 115. For the use of gaufrage in Ottoman textiles, for which the term taraklı (“combed”) stands, see T0ba Kurtulus¸, “The heated stamp design technique in Ottoman

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document from the end of the 18th century indicates that it also served for making imperial tents.56 Other fabrics appearing rather often in Silahdar Mustafa’s inventory comprise kutni, produced locally and imported from India, diba, a high quality satin, mostly patterned and enriched with gold or silver thread, atlas (satin), canfes, a shining, delicate taffeta, much favoured for female dress in the royal palace,57 and its variation yalabık. Normally no references to patterns are made; only once is diba is described as alaca, multi-coloured or striped, and as sengli, heavy,58 which points to an embroidered version.59 Sometimes atlas has the addition münakkas¸, patterned or embroidered.60 Velvet, omnipresent in inventories of the earlier 16th century, apparently did not play a significant role anymore for clothing, but we do find it in equestrian equipment such as saddles and saddlecloths. Serge, saye Åuka, an imitation of European fabrics, had by then started its triumph: it is the most frequently mentioned woollen material, followed by cashmere shawls (s¸al),61 broadcloth (Åuka), locally produced shawl imitations (s¸ali) and aba, a thick, coarse woollen cloth made from spring wool. Strangely, the celebrated luxury fabric from the area of Ankara, sof, mohair (camlet),62 hardly played a role. The latter feature can also be observed in a second register from Silahdar

55

56 57

58 59 60 61 62

textile art and its international circulation”, G8za Dávid and Ibolya Gerelyes (eds.), Thirteenth International Congress of Turkish Art, Proceedings. Budapest: Hungarian National Museum, 2009, pp. 439–448. In this context it is interesting that Barbara Karl, “The Ottoman Flags of Santo Stefano in Pisa as Tools of Medici Dynastic Propaganda”, G8za Dávid and Ibolya Gerelyes (eds.), Thirteenth International Congress of Turkish Art, Proceedings. Budapest: Hungarian National Museum, 2009, p. 346, describing Ottoman silk flags, states that they “are woven using a very complicated technique”. Are these early examples of darayı? The fabric might also have been canfes (fine silk taffeta), which was equally used for flags and for sails, see Kütükog˘ lu, 1640 Narh Defteri, p. 344. BOA, Cevdet-Maliye 16162. Fikri Salman, Türk Kumas¸ Sanatı. [The Art of Turkish Fabrics] Erzurum: Zafer Ofset Matbaacılık, 2011, pp. 205–206. According to Gürsu, Art of Turkish Weaving Designs, p. 30, canfes was woven in alternate layers of warp and weft as in knitting. Green canfes was used by the S¸eyhülislam, the highest juridical and religious official of the Empire, to wrap his correspondence with the sultan via the grand vizier, I˙smail Hakkı Uzunçars¸ılı, Osmanlı Devletinin ˙Ilmiye tes¸kilatı. [The Organisation of the Religious and Learned Establishment] Ankara: TTK, 1984, p. 198. D. 525, fol. 9b. Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, 29 and 30. TSMA, D. 525, fol. 9a. For ¸sal see Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 25, 26. See also Michelle Maskiell, “Consuming Kashmir: Shawls and Empires, 1500–2000”, Journal of World History XIII (2002), pp. 27–65. For the manufacturing of sof see Suraiya Faroqhi, “Ottoman Textiles in European Markets”, Anna Contadini and Claire Norton (eds.), The Renaissance and the Ottoman World. Farnham, Surrey : Ashgate, 2013, pp. 237–240.

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Mustafa Pasha, covering the year 1639/40.63 In this inventory the preferences have shifted slightly : the front-runner is now broadcloth (Åuka), again mainly as serge (saye), but also as “Paris broadcloth” and (Venetian) scarlatto (iskarlat,64 scarlet), and a small quantity of “London broadcloth” (Londura Åuka65). The prominence of woollen materials in this record is less puzzling than it seems at first glance. Except for a very poor market share, maintained by the production of Salonica,66 the broadcloth supply in the Ottoman lands at this time originated from European countries.67 European woollens seem partly to have forced out old-fashioned silk fabrics, such as kemha, even though some varieties of silk cloth had become cheaper than high-quality broadcloth.68 Accordingly, kemha – produced in Chios, a rising textile centre – played a less than minor role (on the same level as sof) in Silahdar Mustafa Pasha’s second inventory. Despite its marginality in the register, sof was important enough to be purchased on the pasha’s order by his treasurer when they passed Ankara on their march back from the siege and conquest of Bagdad.69 If we classify kutni and the related mukaddem70 as one single group, they were almost as frequently mentioned as broadcloth. While kutni, originating here mainly from Syria, India and Iran, was used for nearly all kinds of clothing, 63 TSMA, D. 2014, fols. 1b, 9b, 10a, 16a. 64 According to S¸emseddin Sami, Ka¯mu¯s-ı Türk%. [Turkish Dictionary] Dersaadet 1317 [=Istanbul 1900/01], p. 110, iskarlat was a specially dyed, luminous red Venetian broadcloth. 65 The term is borrowed from Italian “Londra” (London) and was first used by Italian merchants at the early seventeenth century to designate broadcloth from London. While at first the name referred to the most expensive English broadcloth (mainly from Gloucestershire), by the 18th century Londra was a coarse quality at the cheaper end of the English broadcloth spectrum (see Ralph Davis, Aleppo and Devonshire Square: English Traders in the Levant in the Eighteenth Century. London etc.: Macmillan, 1967, pp. 98–101). 66 See Halil Sahilliog˘ lu, “YeniÅeri C ¸ uhası ve II. Bayezid’in Son Yıllarında YeniÅeri C ¸ uha Muhasebesi” [The Broadcloth for Janissaries and the Bookkeeping of Janissary Broadcloth in the Last Years of Bayezid II], Güney Dog˘u Avrupa Aras¸tırmaları Dergisi 2–3 (1974), pp. 415–466. Özgür Kolçak, Osmanlılarda Bir KüÅük Sanayi Örneg˘i: Selanik C ¸ uha Dokumacılıg˘ı (1500–1650). [The Case of a Small-Scale Ottoman Industry : The Broadcloth Industry of Salonica] (Unpublished Thesis), Yüksek Lisans Tezi, I˙stanbul Üniversitesi, 2005. Idem, “Selanik Yünlü Dokumacılıg˘ın Tarihsel Gelis¸imi (1500–1620): Yeni Bulgular Is¸ıg˘ında Genel Bir Deg˘erlendirme” [The Historical Development of the Wool Industry of Salonica (1500–1620): A General Analysis in the Light of New Findings], Osmanlı Aras¸tırmaları/The Journal of Ottoman Studies 31 (2008), pp. 93–126. 67 Kütükog˘ lu, 1640 Narh Defteri, p. 59. 68 Murat C ¸ izakça, “Price History and the Bursa Silk Industry : A Study in Ottoman Industrial Decline, 1550–1650”, The Journal of Economic History 40/3 (1980), pp. 543–544. Compare also Kütükog˘ lu, 1640 Narh Defteri, pp. 110–117. 69 TSMA, D. 2014, fol. 1b. The entry is dated with 20 Muharrem 1049 (23 May 1639); for “several bales of sof” 116.5 gurus¸ were spent. 70 Mehmet Zeki Pakalın, Osmanlı Tarih Deyimleri ve Terimleri Sözlüg˘ü. [Dictionary of Ottoman Idioms and Expressions] II, 2Istanbul: M. E.B., 1971, p. 575, describes mukaddem as resembling kutni.

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mukaddem fabrics (coming from Syria, Cyprus, Algiers and Chios in our inventory) were utilized virtually only for sashes or belts. Diba, heavy satin, and its variation dibace appear in a slightly higher quantity than darayı, followed by atlas, shawl, mainly from Kashmir (Kes¸mir% ¸sal), and velvet, while canfes and aba feature only very marginally and the related yalabık is not mentioned at all. Gift inventories mirror only to a limited extent the differences in rank between donor and recipient, but they definitely reflect power relations. This is illustrated in exemplary fashion by the registers of Silahdar Mustafa Pasha. Although he never made it to the status of a grand vizierate, he was de facto the most powerful man after the sultan. Accordingly, he received presents (especially from Murad IV) that befitted a grand vizier. But as gifts were not only a personal matter, but also aimed at the recipient’s household, items of a lesser value, or simple, inexpensive textiles (often labelled harc%, “for everyday use”) were offered as well. Thus, differences in rank of various recipients are, if at all, mainly visible in the high-end luxury items recorded in a recipient’s inventories. In general, the range of donors and their ranks are still more significant. But a number of factors make it difficult to draw sound conclusions. For since the inventory owners differed in character, they would employ different methods of book-keeping and record their gifts with different degrees of completeness. Roughly twenty years after Silahdar’s registers an inventory, probably of the Vizier Gürcü Mehmed Pasha, which was drawn up in Aleppo and Nicosia 1658–61 and 166571 gives a slightly different picture: the fabrics are clearly dominated by satin (atlas), velvet and serge broadcloth (saye Åuka), followed by a new emerging star on the Ottoman textile firmament: londrina. The latter had originally appeared as a name for a Dutch imitation of the English fabric londra;72 but soon it became a brand for a middling quality of English broadcloth.73 Thus, the londrina, which is reported once to be a gift of the English consul (balyoz) in Aleppo,74 must have been a promotional ploy for English textile products. Strangely enough, cashmere shawls are named only twice, although other Indian fabrics are well represented. They are, however, outnumbered by European imports. Aleppo, one of the commercial hubs of the Ottoman Empire, was the terminus of two important routes of the long-distance trade with India and Iran, one overland and the other across the Persian Gulf via Basra and Bagdad. Neither of 71 BOA, Maliyeden Müdevver (henceforth: MAD) 14724. He was governor-general of these provinces. In all likelihood he was not identical with the grand vizier Gürcü Mehmed Pasha (see “Mehmed Pas¸a, Gürcü”, Türkiye Diyanet Vakfı ˙Isl.m Ansiklopedisi. Vol. 28, Ankara 2003, pp. 510–511). 72 Davis, Aleppo and Devonshire Square, p. 103. Kütükog˘ lu, 1640 Narh Defteri, p. 60. 73 Davis, Aleppo and Devonshire Square, pp. 102–104. 74 BOA, MAD 14724, p. 7.

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these routes was blocked during these years, and the inventory actually mentions the arrival of a caravan from Bagdad.75 From Gilan, the main Persian silkproducing area on the shores of the Caspian Sea, a route led via Kermanshah to Baghdad and continued on to Aleppo. This, and the proximity to the Mediterranean harbours of Payas and I˙skenderun, made the town in the 17th and 18th centuries an ideal base for English and other European merchants bartering European broadcloths for Iranian raw silk.76 Silk from Syria, Mount Lebanon and Cyprus was of a lesser quality and, therefore, only second choice. When Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasha (1628/1634–1683) besieged Vienna in 1683, he was not only equipped with a palatial tentage, he had also taken a large part of his treasury to the gates of the imperial city. In the panic breaking out among the grand vizier’s staff after the subsequent defeat, his tents and baggage, which included costly jewellery, were left behind and fell into the hands of the victors.77 The inventory (extant in two copies78) of Kara Mustafa’s assets, made after his execution at Belgrade on 25 December 1683, contains, however, fiftyfive entries concerning textiles. They include prayer rugs (seccade), curtains, cushions (yasdık) and low couches (makad). Even if yasdık and makad should denote here only the cover and not the whole item, the fabrics and kerchiefs mentioned are too numerous and voluminous to have been taken in flight. Thus, in all likelihood these textiles had been left behind at the camp, probably at Belgrade. The fabric which appears in the highest quantity is atlas (light satin),79 the common material for the clothing of the upper class, followed by kutni.80 Diba, high quality satin, is also well represented, particularly as an import from Iran (diba-ı Acem), but likewise as a product from Damascus (diba-ı S¸am).81 Bog˘ası, a simple cotton weave, was very widely used as lining material for caftans, but also for cushions and upholstering.82 An amazing quantity, seventy-five pieces, is 75 BOA, MAD 14724, p. 13. 76 Davis, Aleppo and Devonshire Square, passim. 77 Diary of Al8xandros Mavrokord#tos, dragoman and Kara Mustafa’s adviser in matters of foreign policy. Richard F. Kreutel (tr.), Kara Mustafa vor Wien: 1683 aus der Sicht türkischer Quellen. Karl Teply (ed.). Graz-Vienna-Cologne: Styria, 1982, pp. 88–89. 78 TSMA, D. 26, fols. 22b–25b, and BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, doc. II. 79 The fabric is mentioned twice, as atlas, donluk dört (“satin, four dress-lengths”) and as elvan ketreli atlas, top yig˘irmi üÅ; zira 1324.5 (“multi-coloured satin with finishing, 23 bales; 1324.5 cubits” [860.925 m]), TSMA, D. 26, fols. 24a, 25a. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fol. 2a, has as second entry only : elvan ketreli kumas¸, top yig˘ irmi üÅ. 80 It is listed as telli kutni 10 pieces (= dress-lengths), elvan (multi-coloured) kutni 78 pieces, and kutni 3 pieces, TSMA, D. 26, fol. 24a. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fols. 1b–2a. 81 TSMA, D. 26, fol. 23b. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fol. 1b. 82 Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 20, 21. For an overview of the Ottoman cotton industry see Suraiya Faroqhi, “Ottoman Cotton Textiles: The Story of a Success that did not Last, 1500–1800”, Giorgio Riello – Prasannan Parthasarathi (eds.), The Spinning World: A

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recorded here. Two dress-lengths of white kermesüd bog˘ası were also listed.83 This is interesting inasmuch as kermesüd (keremsüd/germesüd/germsüd, the pronunciation is not known) belongs to the group of ‘ghost fabrics’ which we know only by name and as to the weaving techniques of which we are entirely ignorant. The combination of kermesüd with bog˘ası here suggests that the name refers to the weaving technique, while the material could be cotton or silk. A fairly high quantity of woollen ¸sal (shawl) is recorded in several entries, mainly indicating its use: as sash (kus¸ak), stole (arka ¸sal) and as a flowered fabric for a garment (ÅiÅekli donluk ¸sal).84 A newcomer, hatayı, usually associated with the early 18th century,85 is recorded with twenty-four plain pieces and with thirty-three pieces of telli hatayı, i. e. interwoven with silver or golden thread.86 This material is completely absent from the inventory of Gürcü Mehmed Pasha in Aleppo and Cyprus (1658–61; 1665). Thus, its star must have begun to rise shortly before 1683. The treasury register of S¸atır Ali Pasha, the provincial governor of Anatolia from 1719 to 1722, has only survived in two fragments.87 Unfortunately, the main section dedicated to fabrics is missing. But as many gift packages contained more than one item, we still find some textile references elsewhere. The most frequently mentioned material is sof, the soft luxury fabric made from the wool of the Angora goat. This seems to reflect a general tendency, since it also features prominently in the inheritance registers of the main political actors of the times.88 There are, however, two further explanations for this feature: the Pasha’s province Anatolia, from which he received many gifts, was home to the mohair production in the area of Ankara. Probably more importantly, he might have been a firmly pious man who would prefer wool to the religiously frowned upon silk fabrics. The scarcity of silk fabrics points in this direction. There is, however, a relatively high amount of gifted and bought kermesüd, which was mostly used as outer material for the Pasha’s and his son’s furs (Ottoman furs were usually worn with the hairy side inwards). But of kermesüd we only know that a silk

83 84 85 86 87 88

Global History of Cotton Textiles, 1200–1850. Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2 2011, pp. 89–103. Additionally five pieces of white and two pieces of flowered kermesüd are mentioned, TSMA, D. 26, fol. 24a. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fol. 2a. The total is 58 pieces; TSMA, D. 26, fol. 24a. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fol. 2a. See Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 34, 35. TSMA, D. 26, fol. 24a. BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fols. 1b–2a. BOA, D.BS¸M d. 1371 and 1370. Selim Karahasanog˘ lu, “A Tulip Age Legend: Consumer Behavior and Material Culture in the Ottoman Empire (1718–1730).” (Unpublished Ph.D. diss., Binghamton University, NY, 2009), pp. 65–69.

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weave with this name was produced in Aleppo.89 As we have seen in the register of Kara Mustafa Pasha, the fabric could also be woven with fibres other than silk. Hence, the kermesüd in the inventory can not necessarily be regarded as evidence that the pasha did wear silk. Ali Pasha only twice received hatayı fabrics, which he dispatched to the daughters of friends or acquaintances90 (according to Islamic law wearing silk is permissible for women). Another material is a green and red striped (with kılabdan91 on the stripes) Åekindiz, which might be a corruption of Persian cˇakin (or cˇekin), denoting a fabric with gold embroidery.92 This might have been a silk weave, as it was handed over to the pasha’s harem.93 The presence of hel.li (“canonically lawful”), a crepe with a warp of silk and a weft of cotton, flax or wool,94 of kutni, of cottons, such as bog˘asi or Indian bez (plain cotton cloth), and of woollens, such as broadcloth (Åuka), aba and ¸sali (local imitation of Indian shawls) points, indeed, to the conspicuous religiosity of the inventory’s owner. Among several quilted turbans, one in emerald green (zümrüd% yes¸il)95 attracts attention, since wearing green turbans and cloths was a privilege of the descendants of the Prophet. But as nowhere in the archival material at our disposal is the title seyyid or ¸serif mentioned for Ali Pasha, there is no evidence that he was a scion of such a noble family. His senior turban keeper (kavukÅubas¸ı) once sent him a brown, a dark red (vis¸ne rengi) and an orange quilted turban.96 These colours might have been inappropriate for a gift to a member of a seyyid family, though. However, they could have been given to other senior members of the pasha’s staff. Even if the inventory’s fragmentary character makes sound conclusions difficult, the entries referring to textiles suggest that this gift register did not clearly reflect the fashion of the day in terms of silk. 89 Mine Esiner Özen, “TürkÅede Kumas¸ Adları” [Fabric Names in Turkish] Tarih Dergisi 33 (1982), p. 321, refers to it as “a kind of silk stuff”. 90 BOA, D.BS¸M 1371, p. 3. The fabric appears another time as a wrapper (bog˘Åa), ibid., p. 1, and once as a curtain, BOA, D.BS¸M 1370, p. 16. 91 Kılabdan consists of a very thin silver strip (which might be gilded), wrapped with silk yarn, mostly in such a manner that the metal is still to be seen, see Halil Sahilliog˘ lu, “XVII. Yüzyıl Ortalarında Sırmakes¸lik ve Altın-Gümüs¸ I˙s¸lemeli Kumas¸larımız” [Silver Strand Production and Turkish Fabrics Worked with Gold and Silver around the Middle of the 17th Century], Belgelerle Türk Tarihi Dergisi 16 (1969), pp. 48–54. 92 I am very grateful to Birgitt Hoffmann for this information. Cˇekinduz would be the embroiderer of this fabric. 93 BOA, D.BS¸M 1371, p. 3. 94 Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 27, 28. 95 BOA, D.BS¸M 1371, p. 3. 96 BOA, D.BS¸M 1371, p. 4. The reference to the orange turban has the addition gecelik, “for the night”, which is somewhat strange, since men would doff their turbans when going to sleep. Yet, among Kara Mustafa Pasha’s assets we find a hooked golden belt for the night (BOA, D.BS¸M-MHF 59, II, fol. 1b), suggesting that gecelik signifies here “for a soiree”.

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More substantial gift packages were in general delivered with a list specifying the items offered. Yet, sometimes neither the donor nor his treasurer had the necessary expertise to give proper information. Especially in the gift traffic with the royal palace we sometimes find corrections to the original records. In 1720, S¸atır Ali Pasha presented the Sultan, along with other fabrics, nine dress-lengths of telli atlas (satin interwoven with gold or silver thread), but the expert at the royal court rectified the entry stating “it is plain hatayı with valuable metal threads.”97 As the name hatayı (hat.’%) points to an imitation of Chinese silk,98 one would expect a pattern inspired by Chinese design; thus, the epithet “plain” is slightly surprising. Probably, the fabric had developed a life of its own and the original design was not relevant any longer. Hatayı from Chios is described as having a pattern in which metal threads were used to weave the flowers.99 According to Nevber Gürsü, hatayı was already produced in the second half of the 16th century and was first used for outer caftans at the royal court. Woven in raw silk with a silver metallic thread, it was a rather stiff fabric.100 The confusion with light satin (atlas) by S¸atır Ali Pasha suggests a similar style of weaving. The demand for hatayı must have been considerable in these years. In 1730 two non-Muslims from Chios submitted a petition to the sultan for his permission to produce several varieties of hatayı and a range of other fabrics, all equalling Venetian products, except in price. The local products were to be only 20 % of the price charged to customers for imported fabrics. The petitioners presented sample-cuts with their request and were accordingly granted an approval.101 The complete lack of hatayı in the gift inventory for the royal circumcision festival in 1582 indicates that this fabric had not been a prestigious material at 97 TSMA, D. 3317/2, fol. 1b. 98 According to Halil I˙nalcık, Türkiye Tekstil Tarihi üzerine aras¸tırmalar. [Studies on the Textile History of Turkey] I˙stanbul: I˙s¸ Bankası, 2008, p. 200, it was originally a Central Asian imitation of Chinese fabrics, but also woven in Tabriz. Hülya Tezcan, “Textiles of Asian Origin Arriving at the Ottoman Palace from the 15th Century Onwards”, FranÅois Déroche et al. (eds.), Art turc/Turkish Art, 10th International Congress of Turkish Art/10e CongrHs international d’art turc, GenHve-Geneva, 17–23 September 1995/17–23 Septembre 1995: Actes-Proceedings. Geneva: Fondation Max Van Berchem, 1999, p. 660, states that the Ilkhanids settled Chinese weavers in Tabriz and introduced motifs of Chinese origin, such as the hatayi (mostly stylised flowers), into Persia. 99 Hülya Tezcan, “Topkapı Palace Museum textile collection: Selected examples of upholstering fabrics, prayer rugs and other domestic textiles”, eadem – Sumiyo Okumura (eds.), Textile Furnishings from the Topkapı Palace Museum. Istanbul: Vehbi KoÅ Vakfı & Republic of Turkey, Ministry of Culture and Tourism, 2007, p. 27. 100 Gürsu, Art of Turkish Weaving Designs, p. 29. See also Fatma Pamir Akbil, Türk El Sanatlarından Örnekler/Samples of Turkish Handicrafts from Prof. Özbel’s Collection. Istanbul: Akademi Yayınları, 1970, p. 10. 101 BOA, Ali Emiri-SAMD.III, Dosya 227, Gömlek 21881.

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that time. Its hesitant appearance in the gift register of the circumcision festival of 1675102 corresponds to the findings in the pasha inventories investigated here. But the early 18th century is clearly the period when this fabric became fashionable in wider circles. In the gift inventories for the circumcision festival for Ahmed III’s four sons, hatayı is mentioned regularly, sometimes with the addition nev-zuhur “new-fangled”.103 This expression points to a new approach to consumption in Ottoman society, where normally a strong preference for traditionalism prevailed.104 This new consciousness of fashion led to a preference for new fabrics for clothing: materials of a somewhat soft drape were by now in favour. The omnipresent light satin (atlas) frequently appears in registers from these years with the addition “without dressing” (ketresiz). At the same time we witness in surviving textiles of this period a fondness for smaller patterns. This must be connected with changes in the cut of garments.105 This must have been connected with shifting consumption patterns; but in Ottoman studies the issue has for the greater part remained terra incognita to this very day.106 On the basis of several inventories we have seen changes in fashion and in the types of preferred fabrics. These alterations did not come out of the blue, of course. They were connected with shifts in the structure of the society and, perhaps more importantly, in the transformation of the long-distance trade. While Italy, especially Venice, dominated the business of luxury fabrics in the early 16th century, the Ottoman internal market saw a leap in quality during the later 16th century. In the first half of the 17th century we then witness the spread of fine English, Dutch and French woollen material, which eventually ousted a large share of silks from the Ottoman market. It might be that the members of the 102 Reindl-Kiel, “Power and Submission”, p. 63. 103 TSMA, E. 3964/6, E. 3963/7, E. 3963/8, E. 3964/10, E. 3964/29, E. 3964/50, E. 3964/66. In 1709, nev-zuhur hatayı appears frequently among textile gifts for the valide sultan (dowager sultana) Rabia Gülnus¸ Emetullah, the mother of Mustafa II and Ahmed III; see Betül I˙ps¸irli Argıt, Rabia Gülnus¸ Emetullah Sultan, 1640–1715. Istanbul: Kitapyayınevi, 2014, pp. 240–241. 104 See Mehmed Genç, Osmanlı ˙Imparatorlug˘unda Devlet ve Ekonomi. [State and Economy in The Ottoman Empire] Istanbul: Ötüken, 2000, pp. 48–50. 105 We do know that female dress in the 18th century became more figure-hugging; see Zeynep Atbas¸, “Fashion in the Miniatures of Levn% and Abdullah Buhar%, Two Great Artists of Ottoman Painting”, Deniz Erduman-C ¸ alıs¸ (ed.), Tulpen, Kaftane und Levn% /// Tulips, Kaftans and Levn%: Höfische Mode und Kostümalben der Osmanen aus dem Topkapı Palast Istanbul/// Imperial Ottoman Costumes and Miniature Albums from Topkapı Palace in Istanbul. Munich: Hirmer Verlag, 2008, p. 71. This must also have been the case for male dress, if in a less emphasised way. But male dress in the Ottoman Empire has been studied much less than its female counterpart. 106 A beginning was made by a volume edited by Donald Quataert, Consumption Studies and the History of the Ottoman Empire, 1550–1922. An Introduction. New York: State University of New York Press, 2000. But for textiles and fabrics no comprehensive study has been made.

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Ottoman upper crust, because they were accustomed to light, supple woollens, developed a preference for a soft drape around the end of the 17th century, but this is mere guesswork. In diplomatic gifts the Ottoman royal court would send to other monarchs in this time the fashion of soft drapes is not palpable. In 1739 the German Kaiser, Charles VI, received a tent, some jewellery, four brocaded (mutalla) carpets (patterned or embroidered), one made of silk, two of Persian provenance and five Ushak prayer carpets and a range of fabrics. Ushak carpets enjoyed great popularity in the upper echelons of Ottoman society, because they were products of an urban manufacture107 and could be ordered in individual sizes and colours. In the fabric section already the first material presents a problem: it is called seh0ddal, “fresh bough” (an otherwise unknown term for a textile), referring possibly to a medallion filler,108 and is described as having yellow kılabdan on red satin (atlas). The other fabrics are: heavy, golden-flowered satin made in Istanbul, again kılabdan is added; another kind of heavy satin from Istanbul in a canvas weave (dimi); heavy zerbaft with multi-coloured flowers, a fabric woven with gold thread in weft and warp, a purely courtly material.109 One hundred and fifty pieces of altunbas¸, royal muslin and two Algerian divan-covers (ihram) completed the textile part of the gift package. The inclusion of muslin reflects the immense popularity of this material in Vienna. Evliya C ¸ elebi, who visited the imperial capital in 1665,110 already mentions how much enthusiasm the fabric evoked.111 Thus, the chief of Ottoman protocol did not follow automatically domestic fashions but focused on the (supposed) wishes of the recipients. This approach was, however, somewhat singular : the gifts for Nadir Shah in Iran in 1747, which never reached their recipient, contained Venetian heavy satin (diba) and two Viennese fabrics, various shawl imitations and mohair (camlet), next to a number of Istanbul-made satins and a new-fangled Istanbul-made crepe (bürüncük),112 which seems at first glance to be a fabric of soft drape. But the 107 See Nazan Ölçer, “Turkish carpets and their collections in Turkey”, Turkish Carpets from the 13th–18th Centuries. (Published in conjunction with the “Turkish Carpets from the 13th–18th Centuries” exhibition held at the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts, Istanbul, 26 September–12 November 1996.) Istanbul: Ahmed Ertug˘, 1996, pp. XII–XIII. 108 I conclude this in analogy to bahardal, a medallion filler developed in the 16th century by the chief designer Kara Memi; see Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 52. 109 See Özen, “TürkÅede Kumas¸ Adları”, p. 340. 110 See Karl Teply, “Evliya C ¸ elebi in Wien”, Der Islam 52 (1975), pp. 125–131. 111 Evliyâ C ¸ elebi, Seyahatnamesi. 7. Kitap. Topkapı Sarayı Kütüphanesi Bag˘dat 308 numaralı yazmanın transkripsiyonu – dizini. [Travelogue of Evliya C ¸ elebi. Book 7. Transcription: index of the Bag˘dat 308 manuscript in the library of the Topkapı Palace]. Seyit Ali Kahraman, Yücel Dag˘ lı – Robert Dankoff (eds). Istanbul: YKY, 2003, p. 119. 112 TSMA, D. 9571, fol. 3a.

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specification tel Åekme, ‘[with] drawn silver or gold thread’, makes clear that it must have been a heavy weave. The fabrics from Vienna were heavy satin, diba, and ustufa/üstüfe, usually a heavy silk weave with a flower pattern of kılabdan,113 here probably a brocade is meant. We must at least question how far these fabrics really met Nadir Shah’s taste. The accompanying spectacles with a diamondstudded frame might have been closer to his longings, but the fabrics must have been rarities in Iran, and thus appropriate presents. To pay homage to the eastern neighbour by sending western textiles as diplomatic gifts had a long tradition at the Ottoman court. In 1510 Bayezid II would honour his archenemy Shah I˙smail I (1501–1524) with various drinking vessels, furs, bows and whale teeth (the latter probably recycled gifts from Poland), an ample range of ‘Frankish’ (Italian) velvets: heavily worked with gold, voided velvet (Åatma) in various colours, benek (dotted) worked with gold and plain in diverse colours. Light satin (atlas) and kemha in red, pale yellow and azure, all from Italy were also part of the package, which contained additionally velvets produced in Bursa and scarlets of an unknown provenance.114 In the same manner Bayezid II (1481–1512) had sent in 1507 to the sultan of Egypt, Kansuh al-Gawri (1501–1516) next to 30 male slaves (gılman) and costly furs a rich choice of ‘Frankish’ (i. e. Italian) velvets as well as Åatmas and beneks from Bursa, striped (or multi-coloured) velvet, dove-coloured kemha and the Ottoman luxury fabric camlet (murabba).115 Thus the practice of presenting fabrics from the West to Islamic neighbours in the East had a long tradition. The idea that diplomatic gifts should represent the own country’s craftsmanship and artistic capacity is a modern one. The Ottoman court viewed gifts to other monarchs in a more personalised manner. They served to determinate the appropriate status of the recipient as seen from the Ottoman perspective. In grasping for foreign, exotic fabrics and textiles, the sultan underscored in this context his own position as a ruler who is mighty and wealthy enough to extend the borders of his textile empire far beyond his actual territory.

113 The word ustufa (today in provincial use üstüfe) is allegedly a derivation of English ‘stuff ’, see Tezcan, Atlaslar Atlası, p. 44. 114 MC 71, fol 207a. Shah I˙smail is labelled: S¸eyh ˙Ismail, mir-i vilayet-i Acem (“Sheikh I˙smail, ruler of the province of Persia”). The date of the entries is 30 November 1510. 115 MC 71, fol. 107b (dated: 30 July 1507). The word murabba is a synonym for sof.

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Names and Terms of Ottoman Fabrics aba atlas beled%

benek bez bog˘ası bürüncik/bürümcük canfes Åatma Åuka/Åuha darayı destar diba dimi hatayı/hat.’%

hel.li iskarlat kadife kadife-i ris¸te kemha kılabdan kutni/kutnu

londrina

a thick, coarse woollen cloth made from spring wool light, but somewhat stiff satin, mostly without pattern a firm weave with a small double-face geometrical pattern mostly embedded in stripes, which is until this very day produced in Tire in western Anatolia; made of pure silk, cotton or a mixture of both. velvet/atlas/kemha patterned with the tripple dots of the Chintamani motif general term for a variety of cotton weaves; also used for a plain, somewhat loose cotton weave a simple cotton weaving crepe, raw silk gauze a shining, delicate silk rep voided velvet broadcloth ikat of light silk, related to taffeta muslin for wrapping the turban high quality satin, usually patterned, mostly with the addition of a gold or silver thread twill originally a Central Asian imitation of Chinese silk fabrics, but also woven in Tabriz; later a rather stiff fabric woven in raw silk with a silver metallic thread; the weaving structure resembled satin crepe with a warp of silk and weft of cotton, flax or wool scarlet velvet uncut velvet a heavy silk weaving; the uppermost weft is reinforced with silver or gold-wrapped thread very thin silver strip (sometimes gilded), wrapped with silk yarn, but mostly the metal is still to be seen a blend of cotton (or flax) and silk in the warp and pure silk in the weft; sometimes warp and weft are of silk; modern kutnu resembling rep, in old days the weaving structure was close to atlas originally a Dutch (in the 18th century also French) imitation of English londra broadcloth; in the second

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half of the 17th century mainly English broadcloth of a middling quality londura (from Italian ‘Londra’) English broadcloth; in the early 17th century one of the most expensive, in later times one of the cheapest English broadcloths mukaddem/muhattem related to kutni; mainly used for sashes and belts Sakız hatayısı Hatayı made on Chios has a pattern in which metal threads were used to weave the flowers saye Åuka serge broadcloth, originating in the Netherlands seraser warp and weft are of silk; the weft has an additional thread made from an amalgam of silver and gold. Mainly used by the royal court sof mohair (camlet) made of the wool of the Angora goat in the region of Ankara ¸sal cashmere shawl fabric ¸sal% imitation of a cashmere shawl fabric ¸sib the warp is of gold or silver fibres and the weft of silk taraklı (in combination with a fabric name) embossed telli (in combination with a fabric name) interwoven with silver or gold thread zerbaft multi-coloured silk cloth with a gold thread woven in a lampas structure

Primary Sources Atatürk Kitaplıg˘ı [Atatürk Library, Istanbul], Muallim Cevdet 71 [former shelfmark: Muallim Cevdet 93]. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], Ali Emiri-SAMD.III, Dosya 227, Gömlek 21881. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], D.BRZ 20614. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], D.BS¸M 1370. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry] ], D.BS¸M 1371. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], MAD 14724. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], Cevdet-Maliye 16162. Bas¸bakanlık Osmanlı Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Turkish Prime Ministry], D.BS¸M-MHF 59. Evliy. C ¸ elebi, Seyahatnamesi. 7. Kitap. Topkapı Sarayı Kütüphanesi Bag˘dat 308 numaralı yazmanın transkripsiyonu – dizini. [Travelogue of Evliya C ¸ elebi. Book 7. Transcription: index of the Bag˘dat 308 manuscript in the library of the Topkapı Palace], ed. Seyit Ali Kahraman / Yücel Dag˘ li / Robert Dankoff, Istanbul 2003. Richard F. Kreutel (Transl.), Kara Mustafa vor Wien: 1683 aus der Sicht türkischer Quellen, ed. Karl Teply, Graz/Vienna/Cologne 1982.

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Franciscus / Mesgnien Meninski, Thesaurus Linguarum Orientalium Turcicae-Arabicae-Persicae. Lexicon Turcico-Arabico-Persicum, Vienna 1680, [reprint: Istanbul 2000]. S¸emseddin Sami, Ka¯mu¯s-ı Türk% [Turkish Dictionary], Dersaadet 1317 [reprint: Istanbul 1900/01]. Marino Sanuto, I Diarii, vol. V, ed. Federico Stefani, Venice 1881. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 10026. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 5. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 6. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], 1023. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 525. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 2014. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 26. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], D. 9571. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3964/6. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3963/7. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3963/8. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3964/10. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3964/29. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3964/50. Topkapı Sarayı Müzesi Ars¸ivi [Archives of the Topkapı Palace Museum], E. 3964/66.

Chiara Buss

Half-tints in Italy in 1628: An Unusual Book of Samples from the Milan State Archives

The Document On the cover of the book of samples1 examined in this paper, one reads “1628 Mostre de Drappi Forastieri che si trovano presso Mercanti”, meaning “samples of foreign silks found at the merchants’ shops.”, The collection of samples is not a true sample-book, however, but rather a book of samples, as it does not present a choice of silks from a weaver’s workshop or a merchant’s shop. Instead, it is the collection of samples gathered by Giulio Cesare Crotti, representative of the Milan Silk Weavers Guild, in the course of a census of all foreign silks – that is, silks produced outside the Duchy of Milan – that could be found in the Milanese shops in January 1628. The census was enacted according to a law promulgated the previous year that stated that all foreign silks had to be sold by a certain date, after which foreign silks could no longer be imported into the Duchy. (Image 8.1.) Master Crotti finds 119 lengths of such silks – identified by 30 colour denominations and by five weave names – in stock in seven shops. For each piece of silk, he writes down weave, colour, quantity in weight, and value in Milanese currency (lira). (Image 8.2.) Merchants are given three months time to sell the merchandise that he registered, time that is extended to six months for the three merchants who stock the largest quantities. The census of foreign silks begins on January 19th and ends on February 3rd. Six months later, on July 26th, Giulio Cesare Crotti gives half of the value from the silks sale to Domenico Leva, Prior of the Silk Weavers Guild. In addition to this information, the document lists the seven merchants’ names, the geographical origin of some of the silks – Florence, Genoa, Naples2 – and the weave and colour denomination of the 119 samples.

1 In ASMI, Fondo Cimeli. 2 The Grand Duchy of Tuscany and the Republic of Genoa were allies of Spain, while Naples was

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Image 8.1. Page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli.

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Image 8.2. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli.

The chromatic identification is the most important information in the document, as it is the one quality that makes it rare and precious in the reconstruction of the art history of silk dyeing in Italy. While the numerous wills and dowry inventories found in historical archives always describe weave and colour of clothing or furnishing textiles, the sample is never included, with the result that names of weaves and colours are reduced to mere words and quite incomprehensible without the possibility of crosschecking. On the other hand, while sale offers or sale contracts almost always include an attached sample, as the capital of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, a Spanish dominion. The other very important silk producer, the republic of Venice, is not mentioned since it was a political enemy of Spain.

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well as a written note about weave and price, they never mention the colour denomination since the sample is there to show it. Out of the thirty colour denominations quoted, some were already known, thanks to previous researchers work, while others were completely unknown.

Known Terms Celeste (from Italian cielo/sky) Cremesile (from Arab Kermes/red) Incarnadino (from Italian incarnate/ complexion) Paiado (from Spanish paja/straw) Payadino (from Spanish paja claro) Pavonazzo (from Italian pavone/peacock) Rosaseccha (from Italian dried rose) Tan8 (from Latin tanare/to tan) Verdegiallo (from Italian green/yellow) Verdone (from Italian verde/green)

= medium blue (sky colour) sky colour = crimson = fleshy rose (incarnadine) = fresh straw colour (yellow) = dry straw colour (pale yellow) = iridescent blue/purple (paunace) = dusty pink (withered rose) = dark beige (tawny) = yellowish green (vert herbu) = dark green (vert encr)

Unknown Terms Avinato (from Italian vino/wine) Beretino/Berrettino (Italian small cap) Camozzino (medieval Italian for chamois) Cavelino (no such Italian word) Colombino (Italian colombo/dove) Color d’aria (Italian air colour) Lionato (from Italian leone/lion) Zizzolino (no such Italian word)

= wine colour (red, pinkish or yellowish?) = perhaps brown or grey = perhaps between beige and light brown = unknown = perhaps dove beige/grey = perhaps pale or whitish blue = lion’s fur or mane (yellowish or brown?) = unknown

The objective of this paper is to trace the history of these colour shades that this document identifies for the first time with certainty, some of which were brand new in 1628.

Historical Context In order to fully understand the document, it is necessary to place the census that produced it in the historical context of silk production in the Duchy of Milan, the industry that, beginning in the mid-fifteenth century, represented one of the

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main pillars of Lombard economy. In 1547, the Duchy of Milan became a dominion of Spain. The king of Spain was nominally the duke, although he never set foot in Lombardy and governed the Duchy through a governor whom he almost always appointed from the military ranks. Spanish rule was not detrimental for the Duchy, one of the wealthiest states in Europe. On the contrary, by utilising the local industries, the Spanish rule helped Milanese industries to prosper. The renowned Milanese metal industry was put to the service of the Habsburg Spanish monarchy that channelled the silver from Mexico to Milan. There, the local silversmiths minted the coinage used to pay the Flemish, German and Swiss troops in Spain’s pay. This abundance of silver made it possible for the famous silk merchant-weavers to produce the most lavish gold and silver cloth in Europe. Moreover, the local mercantile patricians – often in the silk and metal industry – became more and more powerful and took the places of the German and Genoese bankers at the Madrid court, becoming the hombres-denegocios (merchant-bankers) of the king himself, thus increasing their power in Milan as well. The document is dated at the end of the 1620s, a time that marks the beginning of the “deindustrialisation of Lombardy,”3 which was marked by the Milanese mercantile patricians’ interests moving from silk weaving to silk-worm growing and silk spinning. The four economic crises that occurred in the Duchy between 1583 and 1619 made it more and more difficult to invest in the longterm weaving of the gold and silk cloths that had been making the city famous since the 1590s. As a result, the powerful Milanese merchant-bankers withdrew their investments from weaving, which had been concentrated in the capital in the hands of master-weavers and merchants who were part of strong guilds, and placed them instead into worm growing and silk spinning. These two activities took place in the countryside – very often in land properties that the merchantbankers owned4 – and were carried out by individual workers who were not organised into corporations – often women making minimum wages5 – thus ensuring a more secure and rapid profit. This profit was made even more certain by the fact that there was great demand of the excellent Lombard silk from the new silk centres which were expanding rapidly, such as Geneva and Lyon, as well as from old centres such as Florence and Naples which did not produce locally 3 Angelo Moioli, La gelsibachicoltura nella campagne lombarde dal Seicento alla prima met/ dell’Ottocento, in: La diffusione del gelso e la crescita produttiva della sericoltura, Trento 1981. 4 Giuseppe De Luca, Silk Manufacturing in Milan under Spanish Rule: Financing and Organizational Models, in: Silk Gold Incarnadine. Luxury and Devotion in Lombardy under Spanish Rule, ed. Chiara Buss, Milan 2011, pp. 16–17. 5 Maria Paola Zanoboni, Female Labour in the Silk Industry, in: Silk Gold Crimson. Secrets and Technology at the Visconti and Sforza Courts, ed. Chiara Buss, Cinisello Balsamo 2009, pp. 33–36.

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and which were politically allied with Spain. Those same merchant-bankers would still have more profit importing the simplest and most easily marketed silks – plain and small patterned for middle price clothing – from those same foreign centres that bought the Lombard raw and spun silk. If we factor in political events, such as the 1599 decree by Henry IV which prohibited the import of the silk and gold cloths from Lombardy while favouring the immigration of Milanese weavers to France (which gave birth to the great silk industry in Paris and Lyon), it becomes obvious that, for the Lombard hombres-denegocios, producing raw and spun silk was much more convenient than weaving the finished product. Naturally, this change of economic policy caused great damage to weavers and merchants working in the city producing the silk and gold cloth. During the first thirty years of the 17th century, which was already marked by the Thirty Years War (1618–1648), they made several attempts to combat this change in the Lombard economy. They did so through the great power of their guilds, especially through the weavers’ guild. Nevertheless, they ultimately lost their battle against the stronger power of the mercantile patricians who controlled the judiciary system, thanks to the heavy presence of their representatives inside the Consiglio Decurionale. After all, the Milanese hombres-de-negocios were the bankers of the king of Spain, and as such they enjoyed enormous freedom regarding the financial and legal course of the Duchy.6 Our document is placed in the context of this struggle between merchantbankers and merchant-weavers. It bears witness to one of the very last attempts – before the great crisis of 1630–1650 – by the Silk Weavers Guild to defend the city’s silk weaving industry. The guild managed to have a law issued which prohibited the sale of foreign silks (drappi forastieri) and which immediately enacted a census to register how many of these silks were in the city and in which shops they were located. The merchants were given a short period of time to sell them, after which the import of such goods would be prohibited. The law was put into effect and within six months all the foreign silks were sold. However, the effort was of no use, as the deindustrialisation process could not be stopped. Seventy years later, the 1699 census registered that only sixty per cent of the 452 city looms were working. The actual situation was even worse: only thirteen looms were weaving silk-and-gold brocades; out of the fifty-six velvet looms, twenty-six were not in use and seven were forced to weave wool or cotton plush. Of the thirty-five satin weavers belonging to the satin guild in 1671, only four remained.7 The situation of dyers was just as critical. By 1699, there were

6 Giuseppe De Luca, Silk Manufacturing in Milan, Milan 2011, pp. 18–19. 7 For the analysis of the silk weaving situation in Milan in 1699, in relation to all the types of

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only thirty-one, with fourteen declaring that they had no silk to dye in their work, while the remainder complained of having extremely small quantities of silk to be dyed, and of low quality at that.8 In contrast, the Duchy of Milan was exporting exclusively excellent raw and spun silk in great amounts as of 1699.

Checking Information from the Mostre The book of samples, like all similar documents that have been repeatedly examined, appears today with several samples out of place. Some are loose, while others have been reglued over and over, and not always in the right place, as a result of innocent handling that would easily thwart the important revelations the document promises to provide. Before proceeding to the study of weaves and colour terminology, precedence was given to finding the correct position of all the samples: both those obviously and not so obviously out of place. First, we checked the mark left by the original gluing substance9 (Image 8.2.) with those left by the later glues. This revealed many more displacements than the coupling sample/colour would have shown. Secondly, we considered the correspondence between the samples and their colour denominations. This had obviously been done several times before, in some cases successfully, by placing a celeste (sky-blue) sample where the word celeste was written. However, in other places, a very common mistake had been made: believing that the name of the colour always described its hue, and thus deciding between similar tones, avinato and rosaseccha, according to the visual effect. With this document, we must keep in mind that 1628 was a time between an early period when the name of colour specifically indicated the dyeing substance (crimson, grain) and a later time when, just as today, the colour name simply indicated its tonality or hue. As a result, we find both naming methods in this book of samples. Some terms give preference to the visual description, such as celeste (sky-blue from cielo/sky) or paiado (straw-coloured from paglia/ straw), two denominations which were very modern in 1628. Other terms stem weave produced, see Chiara Buss, Silk, Gold and Colour, in: Silk Gold Incarnadine, ed. Buss, Milan 2011, pp. 44–45. 8 For the analysis of the looms working in Milan within the city walls in 1699, see Buss, Silk, Gold and Colour, pp. 44–45. 9 According to Luciano Sassi, the paper-restorer who worked on the Mostre, the original gluing paste had a starchy base without much water. The glue was coloured in red and laid on the paper with a wooden disc, similar to a stamp. The silk sample was applied to the paper after the glue had partially dried so that it would hardly absorb any water, since any liquid surely would have caused rings on the silk material.

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from the past tradition, especially in the reddish hues which may come from the most precious dyes. At first, we believed that avinato (the colour of wine/vino) and rosaseccha (the colour of withered rose) indicated the same hue and were chosen according to the age of the registering officer, since the rosaseccha was already in use at the end of the 15th century while avinato belonged to a very recent terminology in 1628. As almost all samples of these two colours had been reglued we could see that others before us had made the same mistake. However, since we could rely on the analyses of the dyes, we were able to ascertain that for the reddish/pink tones the ancient rule of “quality declaration” was still in use: all the avinato samples were dyed with only redwoods, while all the rosaseccha samples had been treated with redwoods and young fustic, thus creating a very concrete difference between the two shown by the quality of the colouring stuffs rather than by the very subjective visual impact. The same rule had been applied to the only two samples named cremesile (small crimson), which in fact looked quite different: one was a purplish red, or cherry red, and the other looked much more yellow, leaning towards an orange hue. Nevertheless, both had been given the same name, cremesile, as both had at least one series of threads dyed with kermes (cochineal), the most precious of dyes. In 1628 – just as it would continue to be until the invention of chemical dyes between the years of 1870 and 1910 – the most valuable colours, the cochineal reds, continued to be identified by the name of the colouring stuff10, while all others were named according to the visual principle. This paper will illustrate how the unknown colour terms were coupled with the correct samples by combining traces and information from literature, coeval iconography from the painting repertoire, and archive documentation with the results of laboratory analyses of dyes, carried out by Maarten van Bommel, from RCE, Amsterdam.11 The objective of this paper is to prove how these half-tints were developed in the silk centres in Italy between 1550 and 1630 due to technical ability and, most of all, to the need of putting on the market less expensive goods than in the past in order to attract a wider range of buyers. Given the economic and political crises of the time, it had also become necessary to quickly produce goods that would not last long – as the traditional silks did – thus giving birth to the modern 10 See the Encyclop8die, as every reddish colouring could have two types of dye, one with a base of kermes (cramoisi) and one, less expensive, without it: incarnat and incarnat de cramoisi; colombin cramoisi and colombin commun; cannelle and cannelle cramoisi, etc.: M. Octavien Diodati (ed.), Encyclop8die ou Dictionnaire Raisonn8 des Sciences, des Arts et des M8tiers, 3Hme, Livourne, vol. XXI, 1775, p. 8. 11 See Maarten R. van Bommel / Art Ness Pro#no Gaibor / Ineke Joosten, The Use of Dyes in Milan in 1535–1706, in: Silk Gold Incarnadine, ed. Chiara Buss, Milan 2011, no. 24 in the chart on pp. 178–179.

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merchandising cycle: fast production/fast consumption/fast deterioration/fast substitution. In this sense, the name of the colour ceases to indicate the value of the dye and begins to merely state its hue, with terms coming from the natural world, with a preference for botany, as well as from the zoological and mineral world, food, geography, historical and literary characters, and historical events or daily news. The terminology always obeyed the rule that, in commerce, the strongest argument is that which reminds the buyer of his natural experiences and also sparks his imagination.12 In 1628, we begin to see that lexical inventiveness that represents high communication skills bent to the service of marketing needs. The result is that the colour hues that were truly new in 1628 continue to reappear throughout the years under different names. As the names changed, it allowed one to say that the colour was also “new”.13

New Colours: the Half-Tints In the period from about 1550 to 1630, we witness a noticeable widening of the tonal range14, especially in textiles for clothing. We also see an increase in the use of black, which appears consistently in portraiture due to the fact that it is always used for the over-gown, the indispensable element in the official portrait. The documentation concerning silk textiles reveals, in addition to black, the presence of new tonalities that are different from the traditional status symbol colours: crimson, azure and green. The new hues give preference to light tones, brilliant or dull, but never charged with dye as the best colourations of the previous century had always been, especially if intended for silk. It was a choice that surely answered a desire for novelty as well as the need to juxtapose all the black of the over-gowns, yet which also stemmed from economical and commercial dictates. Light tonalities required less expensive dyes or smaller quantities of the precious ones. Additionally, these tonalities implied technical innovations, which meant the possibility of keeping the exclusive knowledge of the dyeing process for the benefit of the city where it was invented, thus giving the city the title of fashion centre. In addition to these benefits, these colourations could be achieved with colouring stuffs similar to the traditional ones coming from the Far and Middle 12 See Chiara Buss, Seta. Dizionario delle mezzetinte, 1628–1939. Da avinato a zizzolino, Milan 2014, pp. 46–51. 13 Ibid., p. 50. 14 Paolo Bensi, New Dyestuffs, New Shades: Silk Dyeing in Italy between the late 16th Century and the early 18th, in: Silk Gold Incarnadine, ed. Buss, Milan 2011, pp. 31–37; van Bommel / Gaibor / Joosten, The Use of Dyes, 2011, pp. 177–179.

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East, but now arriving from the Americas and thus easily available to those countries that had colonies in the New World. Among these were Spain and its allies, such as Genoa and Florence, and even more so its dominions, such as Milan and Naples, cities that in this period experienced a true flourishing of the silk industry.15 The mercantile choice was well supported by an ability which today we would call advertising, and which consisted of giving these new colours very attractive names, often simply different from the past ones. Moreover, the new denominations were supported by literary-historical publications such as those by Giovanni de’ Rinaldi in 1559 and Ludovico Dolce in 1565: they both investigate the origin of each colour’s name from the “ancient world” as well as the symbolic meaning that different times and places have given to each colour. The aestheticphilosophical observations dedicated to the subject by Paolo Lomazzo16 in 1584 have quite a different objective. Among the three publications, separated by twenty years of important evolution in the dyeing technique, many contradictions are to be found, especially in the definition of the concept of “harmony.” For example, the chromatic and tonal matching is described quite differently by the two authors Dolce and Lomazzo. In 1565 Ludovico Dolce states that “if a man wants to match colours that will give pleasure to his eyes, not caring for their meaning, but only for their being proper, he will put together red and green.”17 Twenty years later, Lomazzo declared that matching “bright green with flaming red” generates “discordance that destroys all harmony.”18 We may think that Ludovico Dolce was still attached to the aesthetics from the past which preferred chromatic matching by contrast, but we must take into consideration the fact that between the end of the 16th and the beginning of the 15 The goods that arrived at the Mediterranean Spanish ports were shipped to Genoa and then transported to Milan, thanks to a network of commercial contacts through which Milanese merchants operated with Genoese merchants in Spain in a well-oiled economic-financial system well supported by politics. For Lombardy, see Giuseppe De Luca, La ridefinizione dell’economia, in Grandezza e splendori della Lombardia spagnola, 1535–1701, Geneva / Milan 2002, pp. 91–93. For Naples, see Rosalba Ragosta-Portioli “Nuovi lavori” “Nuove invenzioni” di seta a Napoli nel Cinquecento, in: La seta in Italia dal Medioevo al Seicento, ed. Luca Molà / Reinhold C. Mueller / Claudio Zanier, Venice 2000, pp. 461–476. 16 In his treatise Trattato dell’Arte della Pittura, Lomazzo dedicates several pages to the colours that are most suitable to the correct representation of textiles in painting, see: Moshe Barasch, Luce e colore nella teoria artistica del Rinascimento, Geneva 1992, pp. 177–178. 17 “volendo l’huomo accoppiare insieme i colori che all’occhio dilettino, non avendo rispetto al significato, ma alla convenevolezza di essi colori, porr/ insieme……il verde con il rosso”, in: Ludovico Dolce, Dialogo di M. Lodovico Dolce nel quale si ragiona delle qualit/, diversit/ e propriet/ dei colori.,… in Venetia 1565, p. 36. This chromatic match was among the most popular in the 14th and early 15th century. 18 “verde vivo con il rosso infiammato. crea quella dissonanza che distrugge ogni armonia”, in: Paola Barocchi, (ed.) Scritti d’arte del Cinquecento IX, Torino 1979, p. 226.

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17th century, such matching often occurs in the most precious silks, such as the small patterned cisel8 velvets. In this sense, Master Dolce appears to be closer to the current use of colour in fashion than Lomazzo, who is actually searching for an aesthetic definition intended for painting. In fact, Dolce’s work was more widespread and had much more success. If fact, it was copied more than fifty years later by other authors. Among these was Pellegrino Fulvio Mantovano, who in 1618 writes a sort of summary relating to the meaning of colours, leaving out quotations from the ancient world. The “Mostruosissimo Mostro”19 by Giovanni de’ Rinaldi, which had a second and third edition published in 1602 and in 1626, had similar success. It was particularly liked in northern Italy because of the juicy sayings from the “Lombard peasantry”. This publication is especially useful to us, given the geographical and chronological affinity of his work to our book of samples. While Lomazzo’s theories are difficult to apply to the extant textiles, a comparison between Dolce’s and Rinaldi’s texts, the sumptuously coloured and still existing heavy silks along with the light silk samples from our document, makes it possible to reconstruct a chromatic chart and finally illustrate the passage from Renaissance to modern times. Each hue in our book of samples perfectly coincides with those quoted in archive documentation: if black is the most dominant colour for over-gowns and for the entire wardrobe of bourgeoisie and professionals, the new tonalities, on the contrary, identify the aristocratic society whose members use them consistently in their under-gowns, which is shown in the period’s portraiture. Of the 119 samples found in the 1628 document, black prevails with 32 samples against the different light tones, which amount to 61 altogether. Among the latter, the most numerous hues are those in the pink range, followed by blue and then by green, with a few bright yellows as well, while the last 26 are in the half-tones of beige and grey. Among the pink variants we find three different versions of the colour : one dull, almost dusty, named as avinato (wine-colour), a more charged pink, slightly leaning towards purple, called rosaseccha (withered rose), and a brilliant tone, rich in yellow components, named as incarnadino (incarnate). As for the red tones – from the most precious dye and thus the status symbol of the past – only three samples are present. Two are named as cremesile, a light version of cremisi (crimson). However, neither of these two present the deep, charged red of the 15th and early 16th century ; instead, they are new tones that the French merchants will sell as their own great novelty at the end of the century, using the most attractive names of c8rise and ponceau.20 However, they already 19 The Very Monstrous Monster was first published in Brescia in 1559. 20 The term ponsk (from the French ponceau) appears in two Tuscan documents, in 1681 and

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appear here in this book, exactly the colour of cherries and poppies, but without their very evocative names. Directly after the pink tones come the blue tones with 11 samples. They are all similar in hue, although not identical, and they are all called celeste (sky-blue). This indifference to the diverse tones probably indicates the merchant’s desire to quote the most recent fashionable denomination, celeste. Although it is less precious than the old turchino (deep blue) and azzurro (azure) because of a lesser quantity of blue dye, it is ennobled by the attractive new name that evokes the colour of the sky. We must remember that the pale blue tone, today celeste, was thought to be very poor in as much as it was considered sbiadata, or faded,21 as the concept of good colour still denoted good dye in large quantity. By 1628, however, sky-colour was accepted, although it was achieved by a light “woad base” followed by an even lighter bath in middle-eastern indigo.22 The oldfashioned term azzurro (azure) appears three times only. Azzuro is not merely a lexical choice, but a very precise indication of value, as those samples result from having received a supplementary bath in orchil.23 The eleven green samples show a great number of tonalities: from the light, yellowish verdolino (greenish) and verdino (light green) to the charged verde (green), which tends towards a brownish hue, to the bluish verdone (dark green), which betrays a bath in orchil,24 while a very dark hue, the verde degli alberi (the green of trees),25 is obtained by dyeing with logwood26 from the Americas, whose import is widely documented in Milan in the 1650s.27 Yellow, a colour disliked because of an old tradition that gave yellow negative

21 22

23 24 25 26 27

1686 (Bensi, New dyestuffs, new shades, Milan 2011, p. 32), while both ponsk and ciregia (from the French cerise, meaning cherry) are used in several Milanese documents at the end of the 17th century referring to silks imported from France (ASMI, Commercio, P.A., cart. 25, 28, 198, 264). “Onde il volgo italiano suol chiamare Sbiavo cik che ha perso il suo vigore, come sono le biade…” (Hence, in vernacular Italian sbiavo is that that has lost its vigour, as fodder has compared to grass) in Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, f. 35r. Contrary to what happened in France and England, where the American indigo had been in use since the 1570s, those in the Italian states still used the local woad up to the 1680s, see: Italo Cammarata, Oro blu. Storia e geografia del gualdo di qua dal Po, Pavia 2001, pp. 146–147, 160–165. See van Bommel / Gaibor / Joosten, The Use of Dyes 2011, no. 24 in the chart on pp. 178–179. Ibid., 2011, no. 27 in the chart on pp. 178–179. “E’ da sapere che il verde degli alberi H quello che noi addimandiamo verde oscuro (One must know that the “tree green” colour is what we call dark green), in Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, f. 19v. See van Bommel / Gaibor / Joosten, The Use of Dyes, 2011, no. 28 in the chart, pp. 178–179. In the list of “free-port” goods for the Genoa port, written between 1654 and 1664, we find campecho (legno campeggio/logwood), a colouring stuff from the Americas (ASMI, Miscellanea Aula) used in the dyeing of very dark colours, see: Judith Hofenk de Graaf, The Colourful Past. Origins, Chemistry and Identification of Natural Dyes, London 2004, p. 234.

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attributions, appears in only two samples, both ennobled by the new names paiado (straw-colour) and paiadino (pale straw-colour), or the colour of dry straw and the colour of fresh straw, respectively. This yellow was a brilliant and light tone, much more acceptable than the negative “yellow” and at the same time requiring a cheap dye (weld), less precious than the one needed for the “gold colour” (saffron) that we see in the rich satin garments painted by Antony van Dyck, Antonio Coello or Sofonisba Anguissola. There are ten tones in between tawny28 and yellow. The three called tan8 (tawny) and the two lionato (lion’s mane), both dull, are denominations that go back to the 15th century. The five zinzorino or zizzolino, so often recurring in the documentation of the last thirty years of the 1600s, have a brilliant and charged reddish tone that could be identified as brick-colour and which is completely new in the textile colour range. It was an innovation of the old fashioned ranzato (aranciato/russet), a tone that was still in use and rather expensive but that does not appear in this book of samples. Among the intermediate hues, which are far from primary and charged colours but still linked to the past centuries, we find three tones of beretino, a term in use since the 14th century to indicate grigio (grey), although its etymon is quite controversial. In our book of samples, there are three very different hues of beretino corresponding to just as many denominations: beretino for middle grey, beretino scuro (dark) for a dark, brownish hue, and beretino chiaro (light) for a very light, dove-tinted grey. There are only two very dark and bright brown colours identified by the mysterious term cavelino, which has no meaning in Italian. We find several camozzini (sway?) always used in the decorative motifs and only once in the ground, all identifying hues near the ivory tone. Finally, there are the refined shot silks, resulting from combinations quite different from those of the preceding centuries. These refined shot silks were always obtained from the coupling of primary colours, and now result from the crossing of the new light hues: the delicate colombino with withered rose warp and white weft; one incarnadino with that hue only in the warp, while the weft is yellow, thus increasing that lobster tone which will be in fashion one century later ; the surprising “without name” with color-di-mare (sea-colour) warp and incarnate weft; the delicate color-d’aria (air colour) which shows a camozzino (ivory) warp together with an apricot weft; and finally, the verdenero (greenblack) which in the years 1790–1791 was launched on the market as an absolute

28 The term tawny appears in English documents in the mid-15th century, see Lisa Monnas, Some Medieval Colour Terms for Textiles, in: Medieval Clothing and Textiles, vol. 10 (2014) p. 37.

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novelty, and then again presented as glac8-de-noir (iced black) in the second half of the 19th century.29 Next to these shot silks, we never find the term cangiante, or “changeable” (iridescent), which was so common in the two previous centuries. This shows that it is not the look of the silk that interests the censor, but its commercial value, which can be best identified by the name of the two colours used, that is the cost of the two dyes. On the other hand, it is interesting to remember that a few years earlier, in 1584, Lomazzo had dedicated an important paragraph to the cangiante (in change/iridescent) silks which present the disturbing characteristic of changing colour when in movement, thus perfectly representing those people who cause or participate in changes. This symbolic meaning of shot silks was well known to painters of Lomazzo’s entourage who were known to give much attention to appearance and clothing, and who always painted such subjects wearing shot taffetas.30 One of the many surprises our document provides is the very precise correspondence between the hues of our samples and the numerous tones of pink, orange, green, yellow, and blue used by Mannerist painters. It was believed that those tones were a mere pictorial invention existing only in the pigments created by painters and stemming from the maniera spirit, the very mannerist spirit that was embodied by the taste for excessiveness and gremito (overcrowding) in Lombardy (which identified Lomazzo’s entourage painting) or by the selfcomplacency in the ghiribizzo (whim) typical of Arcimboldo.31 Our 1628 samples, however, show beyond any doubt that the painters – and not just the Lombard ones – reproduced the exact colours they saw all around them in the textiles they put on their figures, whether they be contemporary or from the past. A perfect example of this is the “Presentation to the Temple” by Camillo Procaccini, dated 1628,32 where we find a chromatic repertoire perfectly corresponding to that of our book of samples. The High Priest in his incarnadino garment and the Pharisee behind him in crimson red wear the most precious cochineal dyed silks in the group, while St. Joseph and the man at his right are less expensively attired in verdone wool cloth, although not as poorly as the beggar sitting on the ground, clad in a torn shirt, with breeches and a cloak from 29 M. Bézon, Dictionnaire G8n8rale des tissus anciens et modernes, Paris 1856–1863, tome 6e, 1859, vol. 1, p. 28. 30 See Giulio Bora, La cultura figurativa a Milano, 1535–1565, in: Omaggio a Tiziano. La cultura artistica milanese nell’et/ di Carlo V, cat. exhibition, Milan 1977, pp. 49–51. 31 See Giacomo Berra, L’Arcimboldo: capricci pittorici, elogi letterari e scherzi poetici nella Milano di fine Cinquecento. in: Arcimboldo. Artista milanese tra Leonardo e Caravaggio, (cat. exhibition, Palazzo Reale, Milano), ed. Sylvia Ferino-Pagden, Milan / Geneva 2011, pp. 283–314. 32 The painting, property of the Pavia Hospital, is at the Vigevano Hospital.

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the poorest of materials, a rough tan8 wool. St. Anne, not by chance, wears a tunic in the refined shot silk with pink warp and pale blue weft (the passage from the Old Testament to the New represented by her daughter Mary) under a withered-rose mantle. The whole composition is chromatically divided into two parts: to the left, the delicate, new hues which represent the new beginning, Christianity ; to the right, the dark and charged tones of the Jewish world, which represent the past; at the centre, the High Priest is represented by a mass of intermediate colour, incarnadine (red + yellow), which here becomes the symbol of the passage from one world to another, but also of the negative value of mixed colourations, a wellknown concept to those who had read Lomazzo’s text on colours in painting.33 Obviously, Procaccini uses the positioning of the colours to create a strong counterpoint, quite musical in its rhythm,34 which contributes to the scene’s balance and dynamism as well as to the symbolic value of the story. However, he does not invent these tonalities; instead, he sees them all around him and copies them with all due respect for accuracy. All these colour hues appear in paintings illustrating historical, biblical or mythological events, as well as in the private representations of bourgeois interiors so well liked by Flemish and Dutch painters. However, they are rare in the official portraiture of the time, where the status of the subject portrayed is illustrated by the over-gown, always in the most precious “true black”. This type of black appears in our book only three times: in two satins, one from Genoa and the other from Florence, and in one ormesino,35 which is from Florence as well. The other 29 black samples show a less intense black colour, tending towards reddish or greenish, the type most lower classes could afford, and even a very dull black, seen in the only terzanella.36 As early as the late 15th century, “true black” is a privilege of aristocracy and nobility, but in 1628, when aristocrats move towards a more diversified chromatic range, true black will enter the wardrobe of the rich Milanese silk textile and gold thread merchants whose portraits are known. 33 One should investigate possible contacts between textile dyeing recipes and those used for painting pigments. Did they use the same colouring bases, leaving the texture diversification to the fixing agent? 34 See Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s theory on the relationship between colours and sounds. Giacomo Berra, Ut musica pictura: l’Arcimboldo e la ricerca delle “musicali consonanze dentro i colori”, in: Arcimboldo. Artista milanese tra Leonardo e Caravaggio, ed. FerinoPagden, Milan / Geneva 2011, pp. 349–360. 35 Ormesino was a medium weight taffeta, used for clothing and for lining important furnishings, see Buss, Dizionario, 2014, pp. 34–35. 36 Terzanella was a taffeta with warp in a different fibre from the weft. Our sample, the only certain case known, has degummed organzino silk in the warp and zero-twisted toussah in the weft, see Buss, Dizionario, 2014, pp. 106–107.

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The samples gathered in the 1628 booklet show that all the intermediate colour tones, or half-tints, were invented in the Italian cities of Venice, Milan, Genoa, Florence, and Naples between the second half of the 16th century and the 1620s, and that they will be re-proposed cyclically and regularly in the following centuries, at times slightly modified, at other times exactly the same, but consistently with new names.

Names of Half-Tints and their Meaning Although the 1628 denominations are obviously identified by the sample, understanding the origin of the different names has nevertheless not always been easy. The study dedicated to the etymology of each term has added enormously to the understanding of the mechanisms that ruled commercial and fashion communication, mechanisms which are still valid today. Below are a few examples37 of how the 1628 meanings of those denominations that had no ties to the Italian language have been traced. The evolution of the naming of these halftints has been analysed throughout the years, allowing for the pinpointing of the political and cultural roots of each term chosen when placing that very same tonality on the market.

Avinato 13 samples (Image. 8.3.) It appears as a very light and slightly dull pink hue obtained with red woods dye. In two cases, the tone is slightly yellowish, which is obtained by the addition of young fustic, a colouring stuff that adds a yellow shade to a pale red, and is less expensive than red wood.38 The term derives from vino (wine) and starts appearing in the written documentation at the beginning of the 17th century. Although dyed with red woods, as rosaseccha is, the avinato samples appear paler, as if they had received a smaller number of dye baths, or the same number but in a less expensive type of red wood.39 Avinato is the poorest version of the pink hues, put on the market where silk clothing is expanding towards the lower 37 For the study on all 30 colour denominations found in the sample-book, see Buss, Dizionario, 2014. 38 See Hofenk de Graaf, The Colourful Past, London 2004, p. 142. 39 There were different kinds of red woods used in dyeing, all imported from the East. The red wood imported from Sumatra was called brasil wood and was the most precious of the kind. When similar trees were found on the South American East Coast, that land was called Land of Brazil, Hofenk de Graaff, The Colourful Past, London 2004, p. 142.

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Image 8.3. Avinato. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 3, rec. 6.

bourgeois classes, who can afford modest prices. The lower price is achieved by a general reduction of both dye and silk content, as shown by the 13 samples that are much lighter in weight than the other pink and red ones. Avinato’s low grade of nobility is proven by the fact that none of the three authors quoted above mention it. They do mention the colour rosato (rose), which, since the end of the 15th century, was obtained with red woods, so it is quite probable that this tonality of pink is not new and that it has simply received a different denomination in order to sell it as the latest fashion novelty. As for the name, it brings to mind a new culinary fashion that sees ros8 wine as the latest gourmandise on the table, as often represented in the early 17th century still life paintings. It represents a first example of a custom that occurs even today : naming a colour after a wine (Cyprus wine, Bordeaux, Champagne, etc.). As a poor colour, used for silk inner linings of more important silks, it is still mentioned in the 1775 Encyclop8die as faux-rose (false rose), still dyed with red woods.40 In the Italian translation of the Encyclop8die, that same year, Griselini judges faux-rose as “too greyish, and quite useless.”41 Possibly due to its modest cost, avinato lingers on among the half-tints, as we can see in a rare 1809 sample-book of “rasetti e rigati” (light satins and striped tabbies) produced by Giacomo Brambilla from Bergamo,42 that were obviously meant for the market in the provinces where this tone of pink appears in onefourth of the eighty samples. These, as usual, are not identified by their colour 40 “Le rouge incarnat & le rose faux, seront alum8s et faits de pur br8sil” in: Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, p. 28. 41 Francesco Griselini / Marco Fassadori, Dizionario delle Arti e dei Mestieri, Venice 1768–1778. Heading Tintore in vol. XVII, 1775, p. 164. 42 Private Archive, Bergamo.

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name, but given their resemblance to several fashion plates from that same year, we know from the magazines that the tone was commercialised as color di vin di Cipro43 (Cyprus wine colour). It was a modernisation of the ancient name, still likely to evoke an image of wine, but coming from exotic places. The denomination appears again in 1824 when Greece becomes a romantic symbol of fighting for freedom, especially after the death of Lord Byron at Missolungi where he was fighting with the Greek patriots. This dull tone of pink will reappear in fashion magazines of the Romantic period, especially in the years 1820–1825, when we find it in that grey tone that Griselini so disliked, now called cenere di rosa (ashes of rose). This tone was a sentimental image of delicate health or unhappy love; the combination of the two could even become a cause of death, as shown by several literary cases. Here we must remember that cenere di rosa is exactly the same as the beretino di cenere (ashes grey) quoted by Sicillo Araldo in the 16th century,44 proof that not just colour tones, but also their names tend to return, modernised but still faithful to the images they evoke, such as the rose and the ashes for the pink/grey tones. In 1835, the tone reappears with a name similar to the old name, vin ros8,45 substituted by the darker and less noble feccia di vino46 (wine dregs) about thirty years later, in the socially heavy atmosphere of the Parisian demi-monde new wealth. The tone will finally become a constant presence in the repertoire of arts and crafts where, together with all the other “dusty” tones, it will be the hallmark of William Morris from the very beginning of his production all the way to the 1870s. It is still present in the textile industry through the work of C.F.A. Voysey, as seen in 1900 with the splendid furnishing piece “Helena.”47

43 In the magazine Il Corriere della Dame, 21 Oct. 1809, and very often in the later issues of the years 1824 and 1825. 44 Sicillo Araldo, Trattato dei colori nelle armi, nelle livree, et nelle divise, di Sicillo Araldo, gi/ del Re Alfonso d’Aragona, appresso L. Spineda, Venice 1606, p. 23v. 45 In: Il Corriere delle Dame, 20 Mar. 1835. 46 See almost all the issues of Il Corriere delle Dame, from 1852 to 1857. 47 Linda Parry, Textiles of the Arts and Crafts Movement, London 1988, cat. n.13.

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Beretino 4 samples: 1 beretino ; 1 beretino scuro/dark; 2 beretino chiaro/pale. (Image 8.4.1–3.)

Image 8.4.1. Beretino chiaro. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 2v. 5.

Image 8.4.2. Beretino scuro. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 7r. 4.

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Image 8.4.3. Beretino. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 3r. 13.

As we read in Dolce in 1565, “Beretino is the colour between white and black which we name grey.”48. The four samples so named should all be simply grey, as confirmed by plenty of literature. Instead, they all show a remarkable reddish tint, so that they appear as refined tones ranging from grey-brown to dove grey. However, we must blame the reddish glints to the effects of age on a grey colour which, as we know from the anonymous Florentine of late 15th century, was difficult to obtain and often “turned to red” because of the water being too warm or because of an excessive quantity of gall in the vat.49 Resulting from dyeing in oak galls only, grey was the cheapest of colours throughout the Middle Ages, intended for the coarsest wool cloths. It was not by chance that it was the colour chosen by the Franciscan friars and by all those who took the vow of poverty. By the second half of the 15th century, in some Italian cities, dyeing techniques had so evolved that they managed to obtain a “glittering lead tint”.50 When applied to silk, this lead tint gave a new grandeur to the colour, so that we find beretino regularly mentioned in dowry lists and princely wardrobes with reference to velvets and damasks. In the 16th century, beretino will be the colour that Baldassarre Castiglioni recommends to “the gentleman”, alone or matched with black or tan8 (tawny colour).51 However, the fact that grey was an intermediate hue between black and white 48 Beretino … H un color tra il bianco e il nero, che noi addimandiamo bigio” in: Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, p. 12v. 49 “E se tu vedessi che detto bigio traesse al rosso, nasce da due cose: la prima, di essere ingallato nell’acqua calda; la seconda, per havere troppa galla” in: Giovanni Gargiolli, L’arte della seta in Firenze. Trattato del secolo XV, Florence 1868, p. 58. 50 Tones of grey “piombati, lucenti e netti” in Gargiolli, L’arte della seta,1868, p. 56. 51 Baldassare Castiglione, Il libro del Cortegiano, 1528. Edition by G. Preti, Torino, 1960, vol. II, p. 65.

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continued to give it an ambivalent symbolical meaning that lasted until the beginning of the 17th century, above all in the literary circles tied to tradition. For example, Ariosto calls devils “grey spirits”, while De Rinaldi accuses those who wear grey of being false and deceitful.52 Fulvio Pellegrino Mantovano agrees with the latter, claiming that the word comes from the German barar (to cheat). He quotes the ancient Lombard rigmarole “God save us from a mule neighing like a mare because she is the worst of animals, from a woman who knows Latin … & from a man who dresses grey.”53 Sicillo Araldo, wishing to be more scientific in his essay, points out that since grey is the result of a mixture, it may come out with different colour gradations and therefore with opposing meanings: the darker tone – more expensive – will mean “patience, hope, consolation, simplicity and good manners”; the pale tone – much cheaper – denotes “dryness, poverty, unfriendliness and desperation.”54 Actually, among the lower classes, the negative symbolism continues all the way to the 19th century, with the meaning of “deceitful, malicious, wicked.”55 In the second half of the 18th century, when Enlightenment philosophy declares all men equal and preaches simplified clothing, grey loses all negative meanings. Moreover, because of its tradition of poverty, it becomes the most desirable of colours and reaches the largest range of tonalities with 44 recognised shades, all given appealing names.56 By one of those contradictions typical of our history of ideas, the colour grey will still allow those who wish to distinguish themselves by their clothing to smartly do so, as the old idea of dark-tone/more dye/positive meaning as opposed to pale-tone/less dye/negative meaning was reversed. The extremely pale shades, such as gris-blanc (white-grey), gris-argent8 (silvery grey)57 and gris d’eau (water grey) were the most delicate and difficult to obtain, which made them the most expensive. They were used for the best fine-wool cloth for the “habit / la franÅaise” trimmed with gold braid for 52 “Inganno il Beretin sin falso & empio” from “Sonetto sui colori” in Giovanni De’ Rinaldi, Il Mostruosissimo Mostro di Giovanni de’ Rinaldi. Diviso in due trattati: nel primo dei quali si ragiona de’ significati dei colori…… Di nuovo ristampato & con somma diligenza corretto. In Venetia, MDCXXVI (first edition, Brescia, 1559; second edition, Venice, 1602), 1626, p. 3. 53 Fulvio Pellegrino Mantovano, Significato de’ colori e de’ mazzoli, In Venetia, MDCXVIII, appresso Comino Gallina, 1618, p. 18v. 54 Araldo, Trattato de’ colori, 1606, p. 21v. 55 “malizioso, cattivello, perfido” in: Salvatore Battaglia (ed.), Grande Dizionario della Lingua Italiana, UTET, Torino, 1961–2004, vol. II, 1962. 56 Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, pp. 8–9. 57 We must note that French fashion terminology in the 18th century often uses denominations from the previous century’s Italian vocabulary, as in this case: the French gris-argent8 reminds us of a comment by Ludovico Dolce who, in 1565, when treating the color beretino chiaro (pale grey), writes “It is a fact that some wear that shade of grey because of eccentricity or of pomp and circumstance, and in that case they call it silvery”, in Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, p. 12v.

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gentlemen or the “visite” silk gowns enhanced with bright silk ribbons for the lady of rank. On the other end of the colour range, the very dark shades, such as gris-d’ardoise (slate-grey), gris-plomb8-cramoisi (crimson lead grey), and grismerde-d’oie (goose-shit grey) in both wool and silk, were used for less formal yet elitist occasions such as travelling, hunting or meeting in the salons from London to Paris and from Vienna to Milan, as we often see in the paintings portraying famous Illuminists.58 However, the negative connotation returns with the Restoration and the romantic “angel woman”. The queen of the bourgeois home is pale and pained, perhaps because she is suffering from tuberculosis or from an unreciprocated love or because a corset squeezes her too tightly, keeping her from moving freely or even breathing properly. For her, grey is the colour, in all its possible lacklustre and dusty shades that in the 1830s receive the most ill-fated names, such as polvere delle rovine (ruins dust), respiro represso (stifled breath), color solitario (lonely colour) and cenere del Vesuvio (ashes from Vesuvius).59 Although grey still enjoys great favour in the 1840s and 1850s, the bourgeois society’s new wealth makes it a less depressing colour with the light and luminous shades of gris-de-perle (pearl grey), gris-lapis (crayon grey) and grigio-dicapinera (blackcap grey), quite similar to the 1628 beretino chiaro. To these light shades, merchants add a true novelty embodied by the iridescent gleaming of the new shot silks that have grey in the warp and brilliant hues in the weft, such as ala-di-mosca (fly’s wing) and grigio-lilla (lilac-grey),60 by now meant for a woman who is still the angel of the home, but wealthier and more demanding. In those same years, the medium and dark tones of grey occupy – and will continue to do so even until our day – the male wardrobe, so much so that the fashion chronicler repeatedly writes “We must say over and over again that grey, in all its gradations, is still a great frenzy.”61 The grey shades for suits, over-coats and trousers are the same as our 1628 beretino and beretino scuro, but with names properly studied for the new industrial tycoon, such as steel grey, iron grey or lead grey. In the never-ending battle between French and English fashion, the former will call a brownish-grey London smoke, to which the English will answer 58 As an example, see the “Portrait of the Greppi Family” where the four brothers well represent colours liked by Illuminists: Giovanni and Matteo wear an English style frock in the cavelino colour with colordimare (sea-color) and beretino vest. Paolo chooses the military style with red wool cloth trimmed with gold braiding, while Giacomo, the only dandy in the family, wears a “habit-/-la franÅaise” in the old-fashioned color di pomo (apple green). Published in: Stefano Levati/Giovanni Liva (ed.), Viaggio di quasi tutta l’Europa. Lettere di Giacomo e Paolo Greppi al padre: 1777–1781, Milan 2006, p. 63. 59 Il Corriere delle Dame: few mentions in the years 1818–1826, and then recurring often in the years 1832–1838. 60 Il Corriere delle Dame, years 1843–1847. 61 Il Corriere delle Dame, 30 Apr. 1838.

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by naming the very same hue Paris mud.62 The pale shades are still included in the male wardrobe, mainly for silk ties and cashmere vests, and are still named pearl-grey: possibly a homage to the only jewel the “Grey Man”63 is allowed to wear by the very strict etiquette of the bourgeois uniform, the large pearl tie-pin.

Camozzino 1 plain sample and 11 patterns. (Image 8.5.)

Image 8.5. Camozzino. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 1r. 3.

The term camozzino appears next to a plain sample only once, while another eleven times we find it in relation to the colour of flower patterns (fiori camozzini) on different colour grounds. It is a very pale tone of beige, with a pinkish tint, and its name is obviously derived from the term camozza, the female of the chamois, and was used to denote a natural suede colour.64 From the tone we see in the samples, and from the name’s etymon, we gather that camozzino must be the new mercantile term, more fashionable than the old zalolino (linen yellow), which, according to Sicillo “is a very feeble white hue, tending somewhat towards yellow and rose…Zalolino is not a very fine colour and it means there is no hope left for those who wear it.”65 It was a poor colour, like all those obtained with cheap colouring stuff and 62 Il Corriere delle Dame, years 1809–1812, and then again from 1835 on. 63 John C. Flugel, The Psychology of Clothes, London 1930. 64 Battaglia, Dizionario UTET, vol. II, 1962. On dark or light tone, see Girolamo Gargiolli, L’Arte della Seta, 1868, pp. 156–157. 65 Araldo, Trattato dei colori, Venice 1606, p. 17r.

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simple and quick dyeing techniques. As such, it also had a negative symbolic meaning, like all pale hues did. That is why it was used exclusively on silk threads meant for brocading wefts or embroidery on deeply coloured grounds until the early 18th century. Only after the 1750s, when novelty becomes a true obsession, will this tonality often appear in elegant wardrobes with the enticing name of fleur-de-pommier (apple flower), a colour obtained with brief immersions in the left-over bath of weld and young fustic (yellow and rose),66 exactly as we find in our sample. A marvellous example of the apple-flower shade is shown in the dress worn by Madame de Pompadour, portrayed by Carl van Loo as “La Belle JardiniHre”,67 where the dress colour was meant to remind her enemies at court that every one of her interests – gardening here – corresponded perfectly to the king’s interests, a metaphor of her role as Louis XV’s confidante and counsellor, well beyond the years of her position as maitresse-en-titre. In the same period, this shade becomes the perfect colour for male breeches that go with very brilliant coats, but with a more masculine name, such as the elegant pou-de-soie.68 In the post-Revolutionary years, it will be the only colour for men’s elongated breeches, which then become pantaloons (trousers) going all the way down to the ankle, both in textile or suede. These new trousers are so close-fitting as to appear like tights, with the obvious intent of evoking the naked leg, in keeping with the new image of the Antique Hero.69 Nakedness is stressed by the very name of this shade: flesh-colour. In the Empire period, flesh-colour still is the most common colour for breeches and trousers worn with grey, blue or tanned redingotes, for female day dresses, and for delicate silk or suede gloves for both men and women. Of course, it needs a name that breaks with both the royalist and revolutionary past, a name that, in keeping with the Empire, looks far away in time and space. In this case, the Orient is the source of inspiration and the colour is named Nankin, from the Chinese province from which the French merchants were beginning to import a raw silk that had very little yellow in it.70 It was much 66 Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, pp. 8 and 29. 67 The painting, dated 1754–55, is at the Mus8e National des Chateaux de Versailles et de Trianon. 68 Diodati, Encycloop8die 1775, pp. 9 and 31. 69 See the years 1790–1810 in the magazine: Journal des Dames et des Modes de Paris and the plates in Costumes Parisiens, published by Pierre de la M8sangHre, an 1–11, in: Ren8e Davray-Piekolek, Les modes, in: Au temps des Merveilleuses. La societ8 parisienne sous le Directoire et le Consulat, ed. Mus8e Carnevalet, Paris 2005, pl. 209. 70 The “Nankin silk” had been produced in China since the 18th century, but Europeans never discovered its secret, possibly a type of alimentation of the silkworm. In the early 19th century, Europeans started importing it. In Bayeux, Caen and Chantilly, they used it raw for the manufacture of bobbin lace, while in Lyon they used it in weaving all the way to the end of

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appreciated, both because it could be easily bleached to a candid hue, as well as because, left in its natural colour, it appeared similar to that tone of pale yellow with a rose tint that evoked an image of the elegant chamois. Nankin was identical to our 1628 camozzino.

Cavelino 1 sample (Image 8.6.)

Image 8.6. Cavelino. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car.10r. 5.

The term cavelino appears only once and it is the only term that cannot be found in contemporary literature or in any text before or after 1628. After a thorough check, it can be said that the sample is in its original location, so that we can take the term to actually indicate this pure brown colour, with neither reddish nor yellow or black glint. It is a charged and brilliant colour, like all the others found in the shop of the merchant Pier Paolo Ricordi (folio 10). The term seldom appears in the 17th century documents, while the extant textiles and the portraiture witness a noticeable diffusion of the colour even in silk,71 especially in the second half of the century, when in the rest of Italy it was called color bruno (brown).

the 19th century, see: Stephen Marks (ed.), Fairchild’s Dictionary of Textiles, New York 1959, p. 373. 71 Besides portraiture, see doublets and corsets in the Hupsch Collection in Darmstadt (Johannes Pietsch / Karen Stolleis, Kölner Patrizier-und Bürgerkleidung des 17. Jahrhunderts, Riggisberg 2008).

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Cavelino could be the Italianised term from the Lombard dialect cavelin,72 which meant “hat”. Since the majority of medium quality hats were in brown felt, and producing brown felt was one of the main Lombard industries of the time, the name makes sense. In fact, the term can be found in a very important document: the list of goods stored in three trunks that the Milanese Prince Teodoro Trivulzio ships to his wife Dona Josepha de Guevara y las Torres Medina in Spain in the summer of 1666.73 Of the 21 lengths of precious silks, the first on the list is a “spolino d’argento cavellino e lavanda”,74 or a brown taffeta with silver fil8 and lavender silk brocading on a silver lam8 ground. Among the plain silks, we find another length of “lama d’argento, cavellino”, a silver lam8, brown gros de Tour. Finally, among the nine sets of “Maniche, Tal', e guanti”, pairs of sleeves in the matching material with gloves and gauntlets to be worn with gowns of different colours, we find one “di raso Cavelino ricamato d’acciaio e cordette d’argento”, meaning brown satin embroidered with steel and silver twists.75 In the three trunks full of apparel, textiles and accessories, the colour brown is the only dark colour recurring, apparently replacing black, which is oddly missing. Given that the long list of contents shows that both the prince and his wife were quite interested in the latest fashions,76 and given the very high quality of our brown sample, we can gather that the technique of dyeing dark brown had come to such a high level of perfection as to make that colour worthy of matching silk and silver, as in the three pieces sent to Dona Josepha. Moreover, we can infer that when the Spanish aristocracy did not go to court – where black was obligatory for the over-gowns – it indulged in other colours, both pale shades, such as color di nespolo (loquat colour), camoza and color d’aria (the colour of air), and very bright shades, such as incarnadino (incarnadine) and color di fuoco (fiery red).77 We shall find a great number of brown tones in the 18th century, when their fortune parallels exotic denominations likely to evoke images of all those goods imported by the India Companies, which give start to new dietary habits and new commercial undertakings, such as coffee and chocolate. These two foods give their name to the most precious brown silk tones, while poil-d’ourse (bear hair) and poil-de-boeuf (ox hair) seem to be more suitable for wool cloth. Be it 72 Francesco Cherubini, Vocabolario Milanese – Italiano, Milan 1839, p. 268. 73 It is a printed document that accompanied the important shipment of jewellery, furnishings, relics, clothing and accessories inside three trunks that Prince Trivulzio sent to Dona Josepha, married in 1663 (ASMI, T.A.M., cart. 184). 74 Ibid., f. 4r : “Un taglio di Brazza 18. Spolino d’argento cavellino e lavanda.” 75 Ibid., f. 5r. 76 For instance, we find the absolutely newest loquat color or the “calcette d’Angleterra” (hose from England), which is silk hose no longer hand-knitted (with three long needles), but produced on the most recent English looms for tubular weave. 77 ASMI, T.A.M., cart. 184, ff. 3r.–6v.

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silk or wool, all these colours were obtained with dyes identical to those used for cavelino in Italy in the early 17th century : subsequent baths of red, yellow and black.78 The Enlightenment’s reaction to the Ancien R8gime fashion is to debar the words “coffee” and “chocolate”, and to call the very same brown tone burned haze.79 As a French chronicler pointed out, this was a very depressing name, as were all the names which came from England. even going so far as to state, “Our dandies should never count on English help in inventing fashions, as their hopes will never be fulfilled.”80 It was quite a useless battle against Anglomania, which, at least in male fashion, would only become stronger with time. The power of terminology is seen quite clearly in October 1815, just four months after Waterloo, when the dark brown colour – very similar to our cavelino – of male frocks comes to be identified by the term dear to the Ancien R8gime, chocolate all over again.81 In the following decades, brown will be constantly present in the day attire for men, in fine-wool for the upper classes and in coarse wools for workers and peasants. While British fashion will keep the ancient denomination of brown, the poorest of colours, in France the precious textiles in this colour will be commercialised with the new name of maron (chestnut)82 which continues in both France and Italy even today. The only exception will be a very dark tone of brown, used in fine-wools and silk for vests, which in France will have the new and terrible name tete-de-nHgre83 (negro’s head), a clear reference to the African continent which the Europeans were colonising.

78 For the medieval and Renaissance dyeing recipes, see Francesco Brunello, L’arte della tintura nella storia dell’umanit/, Vicenza 1968, pp. 173–177, 192–194. For the 18th century, and Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, pp. 20, 23–24, 27–28 and Griselini/Fassadori, Dizionario, 1775, pp. 136–138, 145. 79 Journal des Modes de France et Angleterre, 20 June 1787. 80 Ibid. 81 Corriere della Dame, 25 Oct.1815. The Waterloo battle took place on 18 June 1815. 82 The term maron appears repeatedly in the French fashion magazines from autumn 1809 to the 1820s (Journal des Mode). Maron (never translated into the Italian castagna) in the 20th century becomes Italianised into marrone, so that by now the French origin of the term is totally forgotten. 83 This denomination dates from 1815 (Journal des Modes, 25 October) and will be used all the way to the mid-20th century.

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Colombino 1 sample (Image 8.7.)

Image 8.7. Colombino. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli.]

“Some colours take their name from places… Colombino from Colombo, town in Triade, where they dye in the colour of radish…., that is partly candid and partly red.”84

Without this literary explanation, we could never have understood why a pink sample could be called colombino, a word that means small pigeon or dove in Italian. However, thanks to Ludovico Dolce, we can easily recognise the colours of the radish flower85 in a very sophisticated shot silk: a purplish pink warp ties one white weft followed by two pale pink wefts, in repeating sequence. It is an anticipation of 18th and 19th century Lyon innovations, whereby the warp in a pale tone would tie a white weft, and to which the able French fashion industry gave the most enticing name of glittering opal.86 The shot silks with white glints reappeared in the Romantic period to perfectly represent the young “angel women” in their ball gowns by the huge skirts fluttering on the floor, particularly between 1840 and 1841 when we read that “fashion now calls for the glac8 silks, and particularly those pale blue and pale pink, glac8

84 “Cos' i colori parte son detti dai luoghi…Colombino da Colombo, citt/ di Triade; ove si tinge una sorta di lana che rappresenta il fiore detto Ciclame, il quale parimente, quando H chiamato Rapo, quando pomo della terra, e Tubero… Quello fiore H tra candido e purpureo”, in Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, p. 17v. 85 The radish plant carries violet/pink flowers, variegated with white. 86 See Griselini/Fassadori, Dizionario, 1775, pp. 231–238. Chiara Buss, The Meandering Pattern in Brocaded Silks: 1745–1775, Milan / New York 1990, plates 4–9.

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with white.”87 Once again we must recognise the great lexical ability of the Lyon dyers and weavers in forging the term “iced” in order to describe the old glittering opal effect. The pink and blue glac8 are still being proposed five years later, too long a period in the short-lived world of fashion, as the annoyed fashion chronicler complains in 1845 “And now here we are again with the glac8 of our grandmothers!”88 We find the colombino hue again in several sample-books dated 1848–1849, not in delicate shot taffetas, but in numerous versions of a luscious, heavy satin intended for reception or ball gowns, just as the one worn by Baroness de Rothschild, portrayed by Ingres in 1848.89 We must add that in the 1628 colombino sample, the added refinement of alternating white and very pale pink in the weft makes it a very early precursor of the mid-19th century Lyon technique, denominated cam8l8on,90 a shot silk with two different colours in the weft, resulting in a plain taffeta which, when in movement, created multiple reflexes.

Color d’aria 1 sample (Image 8.8.) The only sample so named is most precious as it would allow for the unveiling of the mystery of the chromatic identity of a colour we very often find quoted in documents from the mid-16th century to the early 17th. However, in the absence of explanation from either literature or documents, the actual hue was left to pure imagination. For most, “the colour of air” meant a pale blue tone, due to the misinterpretation of a passage from Ludovico Dolce, who in 1565 wrote “Azure, which is the natural colour of the sky.”91 Our handsome tabby sample reveals quite a different reality : a refined shot silk where a pale beige/pink (see camozzino) warp ties a loquat colour weft. This allows us to recognise it in all the silks contemporary of our book of samples and in all the other textiles until the end of the 19th century, and to analyse the lexical evolutions of its diverse denominations. We begin by identifying it in the late 15th century tones described 87 Corriere della Dame, 15 May 1841. The glac8 shot silks appear very often in the years 1840–1845 of the magazine. 88 Corriere della Dame, 13 June 1845. 89 Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, Portratit of Baroness de Rothschild, 1848. Guy de Rothschild’s private collection. 90 Bézon, Dictionnaire, 1859, vol. I, p. 28 and pp. 58–59. For other specific denominations, see Chiara Buss, Stoffa d’angelo, in: La donna angelo, ed. Grazietta Butazzi/Alessandra Mottola-Molfino, Novara 1992, pp. 26–30. 91 “azuro, per cagione dell’aere, che H suo color naturale”, in Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, p. 33v.

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Image 8.8. Color d’aria. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 8v. 7.

as “yellow, tinted with Oriana”,92 meaning that it was dyed with weld and annatto, exactly like our sample. The tonal effect of our sample perfectly recalls “the colour of the sun rays, especially at dawn” which we find in the text by Giovanni de’ Rinaldi93 when he describes the color aurora (dawn colour), which we now easily trace in the clothing of the mythical Aurora – she who awakens man from his last dream before dawn – in several paintings dating from the 16th and 17th century.94 The reiterated similarity between the paintings and our sample lead us to believe that color aurora corresponds to the learned denomination, which during the 17th century will substitute the early, or perhaps commercial, color of air. The denomination aurore, so descriptive, will be in use until the end of the 18th century when we find it in the work by Diderot, recognisable beyond any doubt since it is still dyed with weld and annatto.95 A rather cheap dye, and not even a lasting one, color d’aria/aurore nonetheless was much appreciated as it fulfilled the need for lightness – in fact and in name – which was one of the main characteristics of the Rococo fashion. It is not by chance that much of the apparel listed in the wardrobe of Madame de Pompadour are in this hue,96 which we recognise in the dress she wears in the portrait by 92 “gialle garbeggiate con terra oriana”, in: Girolamo Gargiolli, L’Arte della seta, Florence 1868, p. 156. 93 De Rinaldi, Mostruosissimo Mostro, 1626 edition, p. 16v. 94 See Marco Paoli, “Il sogno di Giove” di Dosso Dossi e altri saggi sulla cultura del Cinquecento, Lucca 2013. 95 “Les aurores.., seront alum8s, & puis gaud8es fortement, & ensuite rebattues avec le rocou” (Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, p. 28). 96 In: Jean Cordey (ed.), Inventaire des biens de Madame de Pompadour r8dig8 aprHs son d8cHs, Paris 1939.

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FranÅois Boucher in 1759: in a garden immersed in darkness, the only light seems to originate from the face incarnate and the silk dress of the famous maitresse-en-titre, the only Aurora who can awaken the king of France from his last dream before dawn. This delicate hue persists in apparel for girls and young women throughout the 19th century, but with the more concrete name apricot, and continues up until 1913 when it reaches a pinnacle of fame that makes it proper even for autumn reception gowns.97 However, while this hue remains faithful to the by now traditional term apricot in England, that very same year the Lyon dyers launch it with the new name rose th8.98 It is a very delicate evocation of the beautiful rose that Jos8phine Beauharnais Bonaparte had ordered from China a century earlier in order to bring the perfume of tea to her rose garden in Malmaison.

Lionato 2 samples (Image 8.9.)

Image 8.9. Lionato. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli, car. 5v. 5.

In the 15th century, when the art of dyeing has reached levels of excellency, lionato (lion’s mane) is quite appreciated because of its tone in between red, yellow and brown which requires subsequent immersions in precious colouring stuff,99 and thus deserves the noble name that evokes the lion’s mane. Given the 97 Lady’s Pictorial, Autumn 1913. 98 Cartes de Nuances de la Chambre Syndacale des Teinturiers, Lyon, Automne 1913, carte 1, no. 18.053–54. 99 The anonymous Florence dyer writing at the end of the 15th century places the color lionato

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royal symbolism, lionato is considered a courtly colour, often found in the dowry list of aristocrats or in the attire of noblemen involved in parades, jousts, and tournaments, often matched to purple, azure, green, or beretino (grey).100 Over a century later, when many more intermediate colours have enriched the noble and bourgeois wardrobe, lionato still carries its old denomination and symbolism. In 1626, De Rinaldi writes: “Symbol of undefeated heart .., as clearly this colour receives its origin & name from the Lion, given that Leonato does not mean other than being born a Lion, that is Strong, because among all animals He has the first place in Strength, and the man so dressed, with firm Heart will neither abandon heroic feat for lack of courage nor the love for his Lady.”101

However, the author of the 1626 text was proposing a merely traditional meaning of the lionato colour, which does not seem to match the fast journey of dyeing. In our 1628 book, we find only two samples, chromatically positioned in between tan8 and zizzolino,102 redder than the former and more yellow than the latter. When compared with the other samples, these two lionato reveal a modest quality. In painting, it is a colour that is used to reproduce wool or inexpensive silks for clothing, such as that worn by Francesco Garavaglia, a porter at the Laghetto port in Milan, then an ironmongery owner and an unassuming man, in spite of the conspicuous bequest he left to the Milan Ospedale Maggiore.103 In spite of its nobility, the denomination will be abandoned in the course of the 16th century. Its hue will reappear at the beginning of the 18th century, when fashion de-

100

101

102

103

among the cennomati (from cennamo, or cinnamon), in Gargiolli, L’Arte della seta, 1868, p. 160. “La cesarea maest/ vestita de una sopraveste , mezza de damasco lionato e mezza de verde e bianco, giostrk corendo” (his majesty jousted wearing an over-gown in damask, half lionato and half white and green (Marino Sanudo, Sommari delle relazioni di…, in Relazioni degli ambasciatori veneti al Senato, 1514–1527, ed. E. Alberi, series no. 3, 4th vol., Florence 1855, p. 215). “d’animo invitto H il Leonato esempio,…….poich8 chiaramente si scorger/ questo colore havere avuto l’origine, & il nome dal Leone, poscia che Leonato non significa altro che essere nato leone, cioH forte, & perch8 questo animale fra gli altri animali per la sua fortezza tiene il primo luogo …..(e l’uomo cos' vestito) con fermezza d’animo, mai abbandoner/ impresa per mancanza di coraggio e d’amore verso la sua dama”, in De’Rinaldi, Mostruosissimo Mostro, 1626 edition, p. 22r. The lionato hue had to be very similar to the zizzolino, as can be read in Piccolomini: “…since his gown was very worn/soiled, he had it dyed in the zizzolino color, or leonato which is the same.” (Alessandro Piccolomini, Dialogo della bella creanza delle donne, 1563, in Trattati del Cinquecento sulla donna, ed. G. Zonta, Bari 1913, p. 19). The portrait of Francesco Garavaglia, by Francesco Prato, is at the Portrait Gallery of the Ca’ Granda Hospital, to which the merchant donated the conspicuous sum of 806.5 Milanese liras (Pietro Canetta, Elenco dei benefattori dell’Ospedale Maggiore di Milano, 1456–1886, Milan 1887, p. 91).

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mands that “everything has to change as soon as needed: it’s a question of season, of day, of hour”.104 In the scope of dyes new at all costs, it will reappear for clothing, slightly less red, in the exotic declinations of cinnamon, light coffee and tobacco,105 all variations on the old lion’s mane, but now meant to evoke all those goods imported by the different India Companies, goods which could now be found on the tables and in the parlours of the wealthiest people. A few decades later, between 1750 and 1779, lionato becomes the perfect colour for the new male democratic fashion, and, having lost all royal connotation, descends down the hierarchy of the animal world and becomes puce (flea colour).106 In the post-revolutionary years, the colour is quite common for tail coats and frocks matched with camozzino breeches, but its denominations do not belong to the animal world any longer. The colour has turned to the more rational reddish-brown107 or capuchin, referring to the habit of the Capuchin Friars, a religious group that is still accepted (as opposed to the regular clergy, which by then is in disgrace). In the second quarter of the 19th century, lionato reappears regularly in men’s daywear, called pain brul8 (toasted bread), when male fashion and its lexicon are heavily influenced by the London tailors. This was a second and all-encompassing wave of Anglomania, where the French pain brul8 and the Italian pan bruciato represent the rather creative translation of the English term toast. In the last twenty years of the 19th century, when charged and dark colours dominate the female wardrobe, especially in terms of houseware and visites (afternoon dresses), the lionato hue returns. It now has a richer hue and can be found in the opulent robe-damas and cisel8 velvets, the two silks that best represent the 19th century revival of Renaissance aesthetics, both in weaving techniques and colours. Not by chance, the other colour names that are reawakened from the past are crimson and lionato.

104 “Cambiare tutto al momento voluto: questione di stagione, di giorno, di ora” is written in the diary of a Sicilian gentleman visiting Paris in 1714. In Fernand Braudel, Civilt/ materiale, economia e capitalismo nei secoli XV–XVIII, Torino 1982, vol. 1, p. 287. 105 Diodati, Encyclop8die 1775, p. 28. For the dyes used, see pp. 8, 20, 23, 27–28. For the Italian translation of the terms, see Griselini/Fassadori, Dizionario, 1775, pp. 136–138, 145. 106 Diodati, Encyclop8die, 1775, p. 9. 107 In the magazine Giornale delle Nuove Mode di Francia e Inghilterra, it often appears between February and December 1791, with especially emphatic comments regarding the plates no. 159 (February 11th) and no. 188 (December 1st).

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Zizzolino 5 samples (Image 8.10.)

Image 8.10. Zizzolino. Detail of page from pattern book, Milan, 1628, Archivio di Stato Milan, Fondo Cimeli.

All five samples named zenzorino or zizzolino are in a tone between orange and brown that we could call clay colour. In the 17th century, this tone was called color rufo (russet colour). Ludovico Dolce describes it with the usual precision as “Russet, which is not the same as rubro, that is red or vermillion, is the color not fully red, but tending to Yellow and White, just as we see in some white men and women who have small spots all over their flesh that we call freckles.”108 The word zizzolino is not standard Italian, but comes instead from the Tuscan dialect, of the same origin of the lengths of silk found in the shop owned by Pietro Biancano and Agostino Castello.109 The term derives from the Tuscan term zizzolo, which indicates the jujube (rhamnus Zizyphus), the shrub that bears red-orange fruits.110 As Zizzolino is a regional term, it cannot be found in lit108 “Rufo che non H il medesimo che rubro…che H quello che noi diciamo rosso o vermiglio, rufus H il colore non pienamente rosso, ma che tira al Giallo et al bianco, come sono alcuni uomini e donne bianche che hanno alcune tinte e macchiette per le carni e per il viso che noi chiamiamo lentigini”, in: Dolce, Dialogo, 1565, p. 14 recto. 109 The florentine origin seems to be confirmed by similar colour and weaving data between our sample and a tabby sample from the Medici Wardrobe, which was ordered on April 10, 1636 for a gown for Princess Anna, daughter of Cosimo II: Antonella Baffetti / Elena Contatore / Stefania Ricci, Campioni di tessili destinati al guardaroba seicentesco dei principi Medici, in: I tessili antichi e il loro uso: testimonianze sui centri di produzione in Italia, lessici, ricerca documentaria e metodologica, III Convegno C.I.S.S.T., (ed.) Centro italiano per lo studio della storia del tessuto, Torino 1986, pp. 213, 223 e tav. 36. 110 Battagia, Dizionario UTET, vol. XXI, 2002. In Tuscany, the term was still in use at the end of the 19th century, see: Girolamo Gargiolli, L’Arte della Seta, Florence 1868, p. 157.

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erature, whether it be from the 17th century or later. However, although poets and scholars never took note of it, the tone had had quite some success in 17thcentury fashion, as we can see from the portraits. We find it in the opulent goldbrocaded lampases, as in the gown worn by the young girl portrayed by Tanzio da Varallo in 1613–1616,111 as well as in the heavy plain silks depicted in the breeches worn by Giulio Cesare Secco d’Aragona.112 The tone reappears at the beginning of the 18th century as the ground colour for some bizarre silks, the fanciful damasks brocaded with gold and silver with an unintelligible pattern that were favoured by gentlemen and gentlewomen for their house-robes: inspired by Indian banyans, these robes freed them from the most uncomfortable coats, not yet endowed with properly cut armholes. In France, throughout the 18th century, this tone was called fauve, which means reddish, but also fierce and wild. It is constantly quoted as base colour for many other intermediate hues, and, possibly for this very reason, it seldom appears by itself in plain silks for either women or men. Rather disliked by female fashion in the 19th century, zizzolino will find a new success in the 1870s when the new silk weave, shantung, demands deep, dark, and dull colours, as it needs to hide all the surface defects of Oriental silk.113 However, its more meaningful return dates from the 1890s, when it was all the rage with male sporting clothes, a new field of action where a man could abandon the black/blue/grey “bourgeois uniform” and bring back a little colour and pattern, above all on the golf course114 where visible colours have a logical justification and become acceptable even by the most sober of clothing norms. Yet the colour continues to be called fauve, a rare case in the history of colour lexical evolution. In the years that precede World War I, the tone will reappear, the same hue as ever, with the explosive – possibly a premonition – name of volcan115 (vulcan), in order to enliven the revolutionary wardrobe proposed by Paul Poiret for his “femme odalisque”.

111 The portrait is at the Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan. 112 The Lombard School portrait, dated 1601, is at the Portrait Gallery of the Ospedale Maggiore (Ca’ Granda), in Milan. 113 Because of an epidemic of pebrine, a disease of the silkworm that destroyed European silkworm farming for about twenty years (1861–1880), the European silk weaving industry had to import Chinese raw silk, full of knots (C. Zanier, Semai. Setaioli italiani in Giappone (1861–1880), Padova 2006, pp. 20–37) which appeared on the surface of taffetas. These “knotty” taffetas were commercialised as a great novelty, named shantung, meaning they were woven as they were in the Chinese Province of Shan Dong. 114 Emblematic of the success of this colour tonality for man’s sportswear is the Golf Calendar by Edward Penfield, dated 1898 (Mus8e des Arts D8coratifs, Parigi). 115 Cartes de Nuances, Autumn 1913, carte 6, n. 18526.

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List of Archives Archivo del Capitolo Metropolitano, Milano (ACMMI). Archivio dell’Ospedale Maggiore, Milano (AOMI). Archivio Storico Civico, Milano (ASCMI). Archivio di Stato di Milano (ASMI). Archivio di Stato di Torino, Sezioni Riunite (ASTO, SR). Archivio della Veneranda Fabbrica del Duomo di Milano (AVFDMI). Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milano (BAMI).

List of Magazines Cartes de Nuances de la Chambre Syndacale des Teinturiers, Lyon, 1905–1938. Corriere delle Dame …, 1807–1898. Costumes Parisiens, ann8e I, (1792–1793). Giornale delle nuove Mode di Francia e Inghilterra, 1786–1791. Journal des Dames et des Modes de Paris, 1790–1810. Journal des modes de France et Angleterre, 1787–1847.

Burkhard Pöttler

Clothing and Cloths in Styrian Probate Inventories of the Late 17th and 18th Centuries

Introduction Probate inventories have proven to be a valuable source for the study of different aspects of material culture and everyday life in both rural and urban settings. While research projects have often analysed furniture, tools, clothes and agrarian products, more abstract constructs, such as types of households, innovations of goods, consumption patterns and wealth have been examined as well. Historical, geographical and ethnological studies all focus on different aspects of these topics. However, general methodological considerations concerning the analysis of probate inventories will not be discussed in this paper, as they have been widely analysed since the introduction of information technologies into inventory research.1 Three main topics will be dealt with in this article: First, how are textiles represented in the probate inventories? According to different practices, textiles are either mentioned in minute detail or simply summarised briefly, with or without monetary values included. Secondly, which types and combinations of textiles are mentioned and what do they represent? Finally, which reasons for specific representations of textiles can be de1 Cf. e. g. Ad van der Woude / Anton Schuurman (Ed.), Probate Inventories: A new source for the historical study of wealth, material culture and agricultural development. Papers presented at the Leeuwenborch Conference (Wageningen 5–7 May 1980), Hes Studia Historica 3, Utrecht 1980; Thomas Grotum / Thomas Werner, Sämtlich Hab und Gut …: Die Analyse von Besitzstandslisten, Halbgraue Reihe zur Historischen Fachinformatik A 2, St. Katharinen 1989; Uwe Meiners, Research into the history of material culture: Between interpretation and statistics, in: Ethnologia Europaea 20 (1990), pp. 15–34; Ruth-E. Mohrmann, Alltagswelt im Land Braunschweig: Städtische und ländliche Wohnkultur vom 16. bis zum frühen 20. Jahrhundert, Beiträge zur Volkskultur in Nordwestdeutschland 56, Münster 1990; Donald A. Spaeth, Representing Text as Data: The Analysis of Historical Sources in XML, in: Historical Methods 37, no. 2 (2004), pp. 73–85; Adrian B(ruce) Evans, Enlivening the Archive: Glimpsing Embodied Consumption Practices in Probate Inventories of Household Possessions, in: Historical Geography 36 (2008), pp. 40–72.

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termined? Besides legal reasons, a special (dis-)interest of the dominion or of the respective active clerks and assessors could influence the listing of textiles. The empirical basis for this article is a research data base that contains – among others – about 1,100 probate inventories from the Monastery of Seckau from 1665 to 1787 and approximately 110 from the city of Graz from 1672 to 1787, all now in the Styrian State Archive in Graz. They include about 12,500 items that mention textiles. Thus, in the Styrian context, different social and economic settings can be compared: Seckau was a monastery to the Canons Regular of St. Augustine and, until its secularisation in 1786, was residence of the bishop of the diocese of the same name. Although its patrimonial property consisted mainly of rural tenants, there were also burghers in small market towns.2 On the other end of the spectrum, Graz had been one of the residences of Emperor Friedrich III3 and gained importance again as a residence of Inner Austria from 1564 to 1619.4 Thereafter, the decline of the city was significant.5

Characteristics of Styrian Probate Inventories The inventories issued from different authorities can vary significantly. This pertains to the overall structure, to which degree objects are grouped into a single item and how many different artefacts are grouped into one item. Finally, the descriptions of the objects mentioned can vary from a very poor description to a very accurate and detailed description. The inventories from Seckau consist of an average of about four categories of material properties, most often labelled with the term Mayrzeug, a term for anything pertaining to fieldwork, housekeeping and/or furnishings. Terms for livestock, field products or wearing apparel can be found very frequently, while those for different types of textiles or valuables can only be found in the inventories of wealthier households. The descriptions with greater detail in the Graz inventories appear in an average of 2 Cf. Burkhard Pöttler, Probate Inventories as a Highly Structured Source, in: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice: kleio Case Studies, ed. Matthew Woollard / Peter Denley, Halbgraue Reihe zur Historischen Fachinformatik A 29 St. Katharinen 1996, pp. 137–150; Burkhard Pöttler, Verlassenschaftsinventare als Quelle zur alpinen Sachkultur, in: La culture mat8rielle – sources et problemHs / Die Sachkultur – Quellen und Probleme, ed. Thomas Busset / Luigi Lorenzetti / Jon Mathieu, Histoire des Alpes – Storia delle Alpi – Geschichte der Alpen, 7 Zürich 2002, pp. 253–266; Burkhard Pöttler, Konfigurationen des Lebensstils? – Städtische Nachlassinventare als Quelle für materielle Kultur und städtische Identität, in: Historisches Jahrbuch der Stadt Graz 41 (2011), pp. 165–187. 3 Walter Brunner, Lebensraum, Verfassung und Verwaltung von den Anfängen bis 1784/1848, in: Geschichte der Stadt Graz: Band 1: Lebensraum – Stadt – Verwaltung, ed. Walter Brunner, Graz 2003, pp. 61–174, here p. 87, 98. 4 Ibid., p. 102. 5 Cf. Ibid., pp. 107–110.

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nine categories, mostly labelled with material and/or room descriptors.6 Both values only show a trend and are not meant as significant statistical values, as the range in both cases is very wide. In the Seckau inventories domestic textiles such as bed linens and table linens are mostly included in a general movable goods category, whereas they may be listed under several specific categories in the Graz inventories. In both cases, especially with the probate inventories of men, the marriage contract plays an important role in whether these textiles are included in the appraisal of goods. In cases of joint property, they normally are included, whereas in cases of the separation of property, where the textiles will remain the property of the wife, they are not. Wearing apparel, on the contrary, is generally mentioned as a unit. In the Seckau inventories, apparel usually remains unvalued and is bequeathed to the children of the same sex. In certain instances, if these children are still very young or there are no same-sex heirs or no children at all, an overall value can be given. This is either to ensure that the children will receive all of the clothing or the respective amount of money when they come of age, or that the clothing will become part of the estate. An example of this is the 1670 inventory of Peter Grießmayr, a potter and stove fitter from the market town of Trofaiach, who left behind a widow and one male heir, aged only one and a half years old. The wearing apparel is appraised but not included in the total estate of approximately 1240 florins. It comprises: 1 tüechene Joppen p 1 irchene [Joppen] p 1 lodern Rockh p wider ein [lodern Rockh] p mehr ein [lodern Rockh] 1 irchenes Par Hosen p 1 lödes Par [Hosen] p noch ein Parr Hosen p 1 Par tiechene Strimpf p 2 Paar lödene [Strimpf] p 2 Parr wider [lödene Strimpf] p 3 allemody Kappen p 1 Par Veistling p 1 Paar Fueßeißen p 1 Huet p

1 fl 15 xr 1 fl 30 xr 1 fl 15 xr 45 xr 30 xr 1 fl 15 xr 45 xr 22,5 xr 45 xr 36 xr 21,5 xr 26 xr 19,5 xr 7,5 xr 30 xr7

6 Cf. Burkhard Pöttler, Aspekte historischer Stadtkultur am Beispiel von Verlassenschaftsinventaren, in: Urbane Welten: Referate der Österreichischen Volkskundetagung 1998 in Linz, ed. Olaf Bockhorn / Gunter Dimt / Edith Hörandner, Buchreihe der Österreichischen Zeitschrift für Volkskunde NS 16, Vienna 1999, pp. 465–481. 7 StLA, A. Seckau Domstift, K. 583, H. 1383. 1 Gulden (Florin, fl) equals 60 Kreuzer (xr) or 8

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In the Graz inventories, clothes (Leibskleider) and underclothing (Leibwäsch) are separated terminologically at the very least, and are often seen as headings for different sections of the inventory.8 Furthermore, the types of clothing and underclothing are listed in great detail and usually given a value. Here, unvalued pieces remain a rather rare exception. An example of a Graz inventory is the inventory of Daniel Schwarz, a chemist whose 1767 inventory contains wearing apparel for 67 florins and underclothing for 26 florins. Only one old dress and several old pairs of stockings remain unvalued for the two boys, aged 11 and 14.9

Methodological Considerations Due to the varying legal situations and recording practices in the different administrative contexts, the recording of textiles varies significantly in this time period. In rural settings in particular, the clothing was often bequeathed to the children of the same sex as a unit and was only mentioned as one unvalued group. It can therefore be stated that clothes are listed and valued in detail primarily in the inventories of people without same-sex heirs and when there is some variety in the apparel. Furthermore, depending on the type of marriage contract, the possessions of the wife of the deceased – and therefore many textiles – could remain unvalued and unmentioned. Thus, textiles are heavily underrepresented in relation to goods pertaining to agriculture or crafts, as inventories of women are rather rare in rural contexts. In towns, inventories are generally more informative and the percentage of women’s inventories is higher. Inventories of the wealthier burghers itemise clothes in detail and show a richer variety in respect to the types and materials of textiles. Even the simple clothing of lower class townspeople is recorded in more detail than in rural Styrian inventories. Besides this, there is a general tendency towards non-accurate descriptions during the time span examined here, which presents a certain disadvantage for long-term comparisons. Therefore, in a mainly qualitative approach, some aspects of the materiality of textiles will be analysed here. As textiles are interpreted as a representation of certain types of lifestyles, they also communicate personal values and economical and aesthetical choices. In this respect, clothes as well as domestic textiles such as the varying forms of bedclothes, curtains and other linens should Schilling or 240 Pfennig (d). Here the values are all given in Florin and Kreuzer, even if they are noted in Florin, Schilling and Pfennig in the inventories. 8 Cf. e. g. the inventory of Franz Xaver Prenner, master dyer in Graz, from 1761, which lists clothes for 106 fl 30 xr and underclothing (including one curtain!) for 20 fl 30 xr. StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 95, H. 668. 9 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 96, H. 669.

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be contextualised not only within the surrounding interior but also with respect to the total amount of assets and liabilities. Finally, the estimated values can be compared with market prices whenever possessions are put up for auction. A special significance is given to the marriage bed with all its bedding, which is often mentioned separately in the marriage contract and reserved for the widow or widower without being valued. Thus, the high symbolic value is not reflected in a monetary value in the inventories. As already stated, in contrast to English probate inventories,10 for example, the deceased person’s wearing apparel is only rarely valued in the rural Styrian inventories. This is due to the legal requirements for the act of inventorying as well as the practical realisation of the job. Thus, the rather optimistic assumption of probate inventories being complete lists of the entire property of a household or an economic unit in early publications had to be rethought in regards to both the general list and even more so for the wearing apparel11 and other types of textiles, as Lorna Weatherill illustrated with the example of nearly 3,000 probate inventories from English dioceses of the 17th and 18th centuries.12 Her main points can be applied to the Styrian probate inventories as well. Wearing apparel and domestic textiles are often completely missing or lumped together under certain categories. Therefore, a qualitative approach based on individual inventories which list textiles in greater detail must be used, which leads back to the question of how representative or how paradigmatic these examples can be. The problem of terminology has often been discussed in the field of inventory research, as it is crucial in several ways. The questions of whether the same term denotes the same object at different points in time or if different terms actually 10 Cf.http://www.applebymagna.org.uk/appleby_history/ar14-1_inventories_18thc1.html (accessed Autumn 2015). 11 Cf. Margaret Spufford, The Limitations of the Probate Inventory, in: English Rural Society, 1500–1800: Essays in Honour of Joan Thirsk, ed. John Chartres / David Hey, Cambridge 1990, pp. 139–174, here pp. 149–150. 12 “For studying the consumption of textiles and clothing they have two major limitations. Firstly, clothing was not mentioned at all in about a fifth of them. […] Of greater importance, very little detail is given. Only about half of them value clothes separately from cash and other personal possessions, and the values are often given in suspiciously rounded figures, like £2 or £5. In addition, domestic textiles (like linens, curtains, hangings, bedclothes, cushions) are amongst the least well listed of the household goods listed. They are often lumped together as ‘all the linen’ or taken with beds and furniture. […] It is, however, possible to examine table linen and window curtains separately and this will be done later in the article. Inventories could also be used in other ways because there are detailed lists of ordinary clothing in a few of them. How ‘typical’ such listings are is hard to say and each case has to be judged individually, but a comprehensive attempt to find examples of this kind would be worthwhile. […] For this survey, however, different methods were used because an overview of many households was sought, rather than a detailed attempt at an analysis of a few.” See Lorna Weatherill, Consumer Behaviour, Textiles and Dress in the Late Seventeenth and Early Eighteenth Centuries, in: Textile History 22 (1991), pp. 297–310, here p. 297.

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denote different objects or if certain terms are synonyms often cannot be answered for textiles or for other material objects.13 The combination of archaeological and probate inventory studies, as illustrated by John Bedell,14 would be an interesting approach that could allow for a better relationship between material and written sources. Unfortunately, this approach is difficult to realise, especially as far as the lower and middle classes are concerned. Museum holdings of 17th and 18th century textiles usually do not include the apparel of the vast majority of the people, instead mostly portraying (relatively) upper class objects. Thus, the bias between real life and representation is even larger in museums than in the probate inventories.

Cloths and Materials In rural areas – shown here with the example of the Seckau inventories – linen was the most frequently used material for domestic textiles and for underclothing. The values for the different qualities remained rather stable during the period examined here. Listed from fine to coarse, they consist of Reisten for 12–30 kreuzer, Aparsten for 8–14 kreuzer and Rupfen15 for 6–12 kreuzer per ell.16 A fourth quality, Plachen, was widely used for farming purposes as well as robust bed linen for straw beds. It was valued at 9–18 kreuzer per ell. A difference between bleached and unbleached linens is often marked in the inventories. However, despite the fact that this difference is often mentioned, there is no evidence that the estimated values significantly vary. Bleaching was a treatment that could be completed within the household and had little to no impact on the value of the end product. In the Graz inventories, the quality attributes are often 13 Nancy Cox, Objects of Worth, Objects of Desire: Toward a Dictionary of Traded Goods and Commodities, 1550–1800, in: Material History Review 39 (1994), pp. 24–40; for the Germanspeaking area cf. Bernward Deneke, Aspekte der Modernisierung städtischer und ländlicher Kleidung zwischen 1770 und 1830, in: Wandel der Alltagskultur seit dem Mittelalter : Phasen – Epochen – Zäsuren, ed. Günter Wiegelmann. Beiträge zur Volkskultur in Nordwestdeutschland 55, Münster 1987, pp. 161–177; for the Styrian textiles cf. Roswitha Oracˇ Stipperger, Von Abaschten bis Zwickel: Steirische Trachtenkunde in Stichworten, Graz 1990. 14 John Bedell, Archaeology and probate inventories in the study of eighteenth-century life, in: Journal of Interdisciplinary History 31 (2000), pp. 223–245. 15 Cf. Konrad Mautner / Viktor Geramb, Steirisches Trachtenbuch: I. Band: Von der Urzeit bis zur französischen Revolution [1932–1935], Graz 1988, pp. 62–73. This work is already very much based on probate inventories and other written and pictorial sources. 16 The Grazer Elle equals 0,85902 m = 1,1025 Wiener Ellen. See Christian Noback / Friedrich Noback, Vollständiges Taschenbuch der Münz-, Maass- und Gewichts-Verhältnisse, der Staatspapiere, des Wechsel- und Bankwesens und der Usanzen aller Länder und Handelsplätze. Nach den Bedürfnissen der Gegenwart bearbeitet: Erste Abtheilung. Aachen–Pesth, Leipzig 1851, p. 303.

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represented by mere categories such as coarse (grob), ordinary (ordinari) or house (Haus-).17 On the other end of the spectrum, the extreme opposite of the rather modest values for domestic linens is “a small piece of linen from Holland” for 60 florins, which is mentioned in the 1778 inventory of Franz Anton Dobler, a rich merchant from Graz.18 An example of a well-recorded stock of linen with distinctive categories is the inventory of Maria Eleonora Dirnbacherin, an owner of a blacksmith shop (Hufschmidmeisterin) and citizen who died in Graz in 1786. Linens and bedclothes are listed as follows: Leinwath, und Leingewand 1 Stuck reistene Leinwath mit 28 Ellen a 20 xr 1 detto detto mit 24 Ellen a 20 xr 1 detto detto mit 30 Ellen a 18 xr 1 detto detto mit 20 Ellen a 18 xr 1 Stuck Damast mit 30 Ellen a 17 xr aparstene Leinwath mit 30 Ellen a 15 xr 1 detto detto mit 30 Ellen a 15 xr 1 detto detto mit 30 Ellen a 15 xr detto mit 30 Ellen a 12 xr 1 detto detto mit 34 Ellen. a 8 xr 1 Restel detto 7 Paar reistene Leintücher a 2 fl 30 xr 5 Paar schlechtere detto a 2 fl 11 Paar reistene Dienstbothen Leintücher a 1 fl 45 xr 4 damaßkene Tischtücher, und 28 Tischservieter 15 leinene Tischtücher a 45 xr 20 Stuck Handtücher a 10 xr 12 reistene detto a 15 xr 8 stuck damaschgene detto a 15 xr 12 blaue Kißziehen Summa dieser Rubrik

9 fl 20 xr 8f 9f 6f 8 fl 30 xr 7 fl 30 xr 7 fl 30 xr 7 fl 30 xr 6 fl 4 fl 32 xr 40 xr 17 fl 30 xr 10 fl 19 fl 15 xr 10 fl 11 fl 15 xr 3 fl 20 xr 3 fl 2 fl 2 fl 152 fl 52 xr19

A new material that gained importance during the 18th century was cotton. The first mentions of this material can be found in the inventories of Graz. In 1672, the inventory of Anton Sollar lists a blanket made of cotton with blue taffeta 17 In addition, in Seckau inventories from the 1670s and 1680s the term subtle (subtil) is quite common used for linen but sometimes also for Reisten. For the analysis of domestic textiles cf. Margaret Ponsonby, Towards an Interpretation of Textiles in the Provincial Domestic Interior : Three Homes in the West Midlands, 1780–1848, in: Textile History 38 (2007), pp. 165–178. For the different qualities of linens and the relativity of “ordinary” p. 167. 18 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 96, H. 669; as an example for a similar situation, where a merchant of that time shows his wealth and social rank demonstratively by means of a new building and an elevated life style cf. Richard Henning Field, Claiming Rank: The Display of Wealth and Status by Eighteenth-Century Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, Merchants, in: Material History Review 35 (1992), pp. 1–20. 19 StLA, Mag. Graz D 1786.

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(paumb wollene tökhen mit blaben taffet) for six florins. In 1688, the red doublet (Wames) of the Stadtwachtmeister (a sort of senior official of the city) Vincenz Hainschitsch consists of linen and cotton and is valued at four florins and in 1703, Maria Clara Leüthnerin, widow of a merchant and of noble origin, owned a blue two-tone dressing gown of damask with cotton lining (blau zweyfärbig damaschgener schlaffrokh, mit baumwoll gefüedert), valued at 22 florins. The 1720 inventory of a Seckau innkeeper lists a cotton bed cover (Hüll), valuing the bed with all the bedding at 18 florins. Stockings are most frequently mentioned as a type of clothing made of cotton. Within the data presented here, the first recorded mention of stockings is in Graz in 1678 with three pairs of paumbwollene strimpff at 15 kreuzer per pair. In 1695, inventory of the wife of a burgher and butcher in Seckau mentions a new and old pair of pämbolene strimpf with a value of 30 kreuzer and six kreuzer, respectively. In 1712, the inventory of the wife of a beer brewer in Graz lists 10 pairs at the same value each as in 1678. As a final example, the neckerchiefs of a master hat maker in Graz in 1721 will be mentioned: He owned one cotton neckerchief (baumwollenes Halß Tuech) valued at 24 kreuzer and a second of muslin (muschelines deto) at 36 kreuzer, which also could have been of cotton.20 Towards the end of the 18th century, when cotton had become quite common, the 1787 inventory of a master knitter (Strükermeister) in Graz provides insight into a wide variety of stockings for men and women. His stock of cotton stockings for women holds 30 pairs no. 6 at 25 kreuzer each, 16 pairs no. 8 at 35 kreuzer each, 28 pairs no. 9 at 40 kreuzer each and 69 pairs no. 10 at 45 kreuzer each, with lower numbers indicating coarser qualities. Finally, 12 pairs of “fine cotton stockings” are valued at 55 kreuzer per pair.21 Men’s cotton stockings are not mentioned in this inventory. In addition to linen and cotton, wool plays a significant role in rural and urban inventories, although with a very different purpose. Because Loden is an especially treated and therefore very warm and water resistant material, it is the most important type of woollen cloth in the Seckau inventories. It is used mainly for coats, waistcoats and trousers, as well as for stockings. The values of loden in the inventories mostly range from 20 kreuzer to 30 kreuzer per ell, although the width of the cloth and its quality are usually not mentioned. In 1695, 20 ells of unfulled loden (vngewalchter Loden) valued at five florins (15 kreuzer per ell) are listed as an intermediate material in loden production and, in 1670, loden with linen (halb leinen Loden) is rated at the same value. When a colour of the loden is given, it is mostly grey, followed by green and, in rare cases, white, brown and red. 20 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 94, H. 667. Cf. Pöttler, Konfigurationen, pp. 176–178. 21 StLA, Mag. Graz D73:1787.

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While woollen cloth (Tuch) can also be found in the Seckau inventories, it is the primary woollen material in Graz. Here, there is nearly no loden listed in the probate inventories.22 The lighter woollen cloth (Zeug) can be found in both the Seckau and Graz archives. There are also mentions of several cloths woven from wool and linen, such as Raß.23 Camelhair and rabbit hair can be found only very rarely. Different kinds of textiles are marked as coming from certain regions or places, such as the Styrian Birkfeld linen or Steirer Zeug, Styrian woollen cloth. Other important regions or (market) towns mentioned as places of origin for various types of textile materials in the Habsburg monarchy are Villach in Carinthia, Crain, Silesia or Hungary, as well as Braunau and Passau in Bavaria. Stockings are marked as coming (initially) from France, Hungary, Dux or Reichenberg (now Duchcov and Liberec, Bohemia), Hamburg or Berlin. Some luxurious materials are mentioned only rarely, in the inventories of wealthy burghers in Graz and in that of the court barber in Seckau. These materials include corduroy (manschestern), camlet (cameloth) from Brussels and cloths from Holland and Turkey.

Textiles in Domestic Contexts, Dress and Work Contexts In the following section, the final products will be analysed, focusing on the differences between wealthy and poor households. Domestic textiles, such as bedding, tablecloths, towels and the like are – despite the limitations mentioned above – an important aspect of the probate inventories. The bed linens of wealthier people or people of higher rank are mostly made of Reisten, the finest quality of linen mentioned in the inventories. In 1688, the inventory of Maria Magdalena Hainschitschin, the wife of the Stadtwachtmeister, mentions 18 pairs of fine linen sheets with laces and bandings and partially with red needle work valued at two florins per pair (18 Paar 22 This can be due to the fact that it was regarded as being too rustic for the burghers at this time and gained acceptance only in the 19th century, when gentry and burghers adopted – and invented – rural costumes for their own use. Another possible reason are the holdings of probate inventories which favour the wealthier inhabitants. Finally, terminological problems have to be considered, since cloth (Tuch) and loden (Loden) have not always been differentiated or even definitely been seen as synonyms. Cf. e. g. Franz Sartori, Neueste Geographie von Steiermark: Mit ihren statistischen, physikalischen, industriellen und topographischen Merkwürdigkeiten. Nebst einem alphabetischen Verzeichniß aller in Steiermark befindlichen Städte, Märkte, merkwürdigen Dörfer, Schlösser, Klöster, Berge, Flüsse, Seen, Mineral-Quellen, Straßen, Posten, Wasserwege, historischen, physikalischen, industriösen, und statistischen Eigenheiten, Grätz 1816, p. 8, who mentions “Tuch (Loden)”. 23 Mautner / Geramb, Trachtenbuch, pp. 74–75.

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reistene Leylacher mit Spizen vnnd Porten theils roth außgenät). In rare cases, the use of special materials for sheets as well as other parts of the bedding is recorded, which, however, cannot be denoted as textiles. Whereas cushions made of leather can be found in several cases, sheets of leather are mentioned only in the 1778 inventory of the rich merchant Franz Anton Dobler. Nevertheless, this corresponds to similar testimonials in other sources. J. A. Schmeller cites the Baron of Bodman, who described sheets of leather as healthy, cool in summer and comfortable for journeys, although he stipulated that they need to be made of thin deer or buckskins.24 The luxury of the bedding and bed linens of wealthier citizens is visible in the inventory of the widow Maria Anna Hueberin. The category bed linen (Beth Gewandt) lists three items. The first is the widow’s luxurious bed with one under blanket of striped fustian, one duvet of striped cloth, two long pillows with blue covers, three long pillows, one cotton blanket with taffeta, one coverlet and one bedstead, valued together at 40 florins (1 Unterbeth mit gestraifften Parchet, 1 Ober Tuchet von gestraifften Bethzeig, 2 lange Pölster mit blauen Überzug, 3 lange Pölster, 1 baumwohlene Deckhen mit tafeten Blath, 1 Coperth Decken, und 1 Bethspanten). The second item mentions more bedding for eight florins and the third lists the bed of the servant maid(s) (Menscher Beth) for only one florin. This listing impressively documents the significant difference in value between the bed of a burgher and that of her servant(s). Furthermore, it shows the practice of subsuming the wooden bedstead under the category of Beth Gewandt. In these cases, as Donald Spaeth states, “[o]ne of the more frustrating aspects of the inventory is that objects are usually valued in groups rather than individually. Because an item may include as many as 30 objects, it is usually impossible to ascertain the value of individual household objects”.25

Although the respective item in Maria Anna Hueberin’s inventory only combines ten objects, the problem here and in many other descriptions of groupings is the same. An example for the wide range of values among domestic textiles can be seen in the inventory of Anton Sollar (1672), a burgher and master builder (Maurermeister) in Graz and probably of Venetian origin.26 He owned 16 damask towels (tamaschkhene Handtüecher), valued at 30 kreuzer each. In general, 24 J. A. Schmeller, Bayerisches Wörterbuch: Erster Band, München 1872, col. 1440.: Die liderne leilach seindt gesundt, sondterlich sommer küel, zu raisen commod, müessen von dünnen Wildheuten sein. 25 Spaeth, Representing Text, p. 77. 26 Cf. Walter Brunner (Ed.), Geschichte der Stadt Graz: Band 4: Stadtlexikon, verfasst von Bernhard A. Reismann und Franz Mittermüller, Graz 2003, p. 452.

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towels are mentioned rather rarely and are mostly valued at 10–20 kreuzer in the late 18th century. This is not only an indicator of cheaper textiles available through new sources of cotton fibre and the technical development in the textile industry but also of the high qualities of the towels mentioned in Sollar’s inventory. In addition to these towels, Sollar owned 21 damask tablecloths (tamaschkhene Tischtüecher), which are valued at one florin each.27 On the other hand, textiles can sometimes be indicators of rather poor living conditions. This is true in both cases where there are no textiles mentioned at all – which could also be caused by legislative reasons – as well as in cases where textiles are described with negative attributes. The widower Joseph Schuemann died in Graz in 1764. He had only one sister, who lived in Linz and was appointed universal heir. Therefore, all his goods – including domestic textiles and dress – were valued and put up for auction, where they amounted to 56 florins, seven kreuzer. In addition to a few pieces which indicate prior moderate wealth, such as a coffee service and a coffee can, wall decorations and a mirror, the inventory lists bedclothes, tablecloths and towels which are all described as old, torn, mended and in poor condition (alt, zerrissen, geflickt and schlecht). One pound of cotton is even marked as old (alte Baum Wohl). Nevertheless, the items mentioning textiles and wearing apparel bring in a profit of 53 % at the auction, whereas the estate as a whole only brings in a profit of about 24 %. Additionally, this listing is a good example of the construction of items from objects that do not seem to be related to one another, such as six old neckerchiefs and two tin lids from mugs, some odds and ends in a handkerchief or a carpet with a walking stick and a type of small sword. In the case of an auction, however, this also could be caused by the fact that all the objects of an item were sold to the same person. The items in Schuemann’s inventory that mention domestic textiles or parts of his apparel include: 1 weisß rupferner Sackh und 3 schlechte Handtücher 3 ord: gutte Handtücher, 1 zerrissenes damaschgenes, und 1 altes leinwathenes deto 1 Paar schlechte rupfene, und 1 Paar bessere Leylacher 1 Paar geflickte alte Leylacher 1 alt rupfenes zerrissenes Tisch-Tuch, und 1 altes Leylach 5 alte Vorhemetl 8 alte damaschgene Tisch Servieter 3 alte Mannß Hemeter 3 Paar Vorsteckh Ermel 6 alte Halß Bindl und 2 zinnerne Kriegl-Deckhel zusammen Allerhand Gräflwerckh in einen Schnupf Tüchl 1 aufgerichtes altes Beth auf ein Persohn 1 deto deto ohne Deckhen 27 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 92, H. 664.

7 xr 25 xr

12 xr 35 xr

45 xr 24 xr 10 xr 15 xr 15 xr 1 fl 6 xr 10 xr 10 xr 5 fl 4 fl

1 fl 28 xr 41 xr 20 xr 36 xr 1 fl 53 xr 9 xr 27 xr 19 xr 6 fl 1 xr 4 fl 52 xr

212 1 alter schwarz geflickter Rockh samt Westi 1 grien zeigener deto samt Westi 1 alter Töpich samt einen Steckhen und einen Degen 1 lb alte Baum Wohl 1 altes Leylach 1 Paar neüe und 1 Paar alte Schuech

Burkhard Pöttler

30 xr 1 fl 1 fl 30 xr 18 xr 14 xr 51 xr

46 xr 2 fl 12 xr 2 fl 1 xr 25 xr 20 xr 1 fl 4 xr28

Besides this and other similar examples of inventories listing a fairly categorised ensemble of textiles in mostly poor condition, there are those that only list a very small set of textiles, mostly the deceased’s wearing apparel which normally is in poor condition as well. However, some of these inventories with a very limited set of clothing include rather surprising aspects, such as the inventory of Regina Pfabin, a servant maid who died in Graz in 1787. All her material possessions are listed in one single item. It consists of two old shabby jackets, two aprons in the same condition, two shirts, a few pieces of bed linen and a small shoddy chest (2 alte schlechte Jopen, 2 deto Fürtücher, 2 Hemder, etwas weniges Betgewand, 1 schlechtes Kastel) which were valued altogether at one florin 50 kreuzer.29 These goods would be quite plausible for a poor urban servant. However, there are also assets which amount to 151 florins and 51 kreuzer. These assets are exceptionally high for a servant and consist of two obligations (dated 1780 and 1787), plus interest from the last months. Another example of this type of discrepancy can be seen with Franz Xaver Kitzberger, a potter and stove fitter journeyman who died in 1778 in Upper Styria when travelling from Wels in Upper Austria to Graz. With the consent of his two sisters, all his movables and wearing apparel, which were very old, in bad condition and of no worth (sehr alt, schlecht, und von keinen Werth), were left to his two brothers in natura. However, despite his poor clothing, he owned mortgage bonds (Aerarial Schuldbrief) for 700 florins.30 The 1674 probate inventory of Tobias Dorner, a whitesmith (Zirkelschmied) in Graz, shows a special situation documenting how distinctions between old and better clothes were made: waß nun die alten claider belangt, seind solche seinen zucht khnaben Arnolt Implmändl, vermüg testament zuegestelt: die bessern aber geschäzt worden, alß volgt. The old wearing apparel is bequeathed to his foster son in his will, whereas the better clothes are appraised. As in most cases when 28 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 95, H. 668. For a similar situation cf. the inventories in Rosenberg (Pfalz-Sulzbach), for which Jochen Rösel states that poverty was so high that even old and torn clothes were recorded. Jochen Rösel, Ländliche Armut im Herzogtum Pfalz-Sulzbach 1650–1700, in: Zeitschrift für bayerische Landesgeschichte 66 (2003), pp. 819–864, here p. 849. 29 StLA, Mag. Graz D76:1787. 30 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 96, H. 669.

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clothes are bequeathed to children unvalued, we do not learn the quantity or even the type or material of the clothing.31 Nearly 90 years later, in 1761, the wig maker (Paroquenmacher) Joseph Pöschl verbally (mündlichen) bequeaths his total wearing apparel and underclothing – including a hat with golden lace – in natura to his 15-year-old son, a student. The widow confirmed (approbiret) this arrangement and thus the clothes did not get valued.32 The different arrangements for bequeathing clothing to the next generation are sometimes obsolete, as in the case of the small farmer (Keuschler) Niclas Bayr, who lived near Seckau. His inventory from 1715 states that no wearing apparel was found and his only clothes were transferred with him to the grave (von solchen [leibgewanth] ist nichts gefundten, sondern das ainzig gehabte dem erblasser ins grab angelegt worden).33 Returning to domestic textiles, curtains can be regarded as an indicator of a (moderately) elevated lifestyle, as they were unaffordable for the vast majority of the rural population in this region. In inventories from Seckau, curtains are first seen in 1687 with the mention of bed curtains. However, as early as 1681, an inventory extract (Teillibell), which was drawn up to distribute the inheritance of a deceased person among two sister heirs, a linen curtain is listed, albeit without listing its function.34 Unfortunately, the respective probate inventory is not available for clarification. Overall, most curtains in Seckau are bed curtains, although five old window curtains are mentioned in the inventory of a burgher widow in 1704. In Graz, bed curtains remain in existence until the end of the period in question. They can even be made of silk, as in 1763 in combination with a bedstead of hardwood, or made of printed linen as in 1787. In most cases, however, no further description of the bed curtains is given. Nevertheless, most curtains in the Graz inventories are window curtains. While the colour is usually given, (white, yellow and green), nearly no materials are mentioned. The inventory of Genofeva Österreicherin, an innkeeper, lists 34 curtains, mostly valued at 15 kreuzer or 22.5 kreuzer (which corresponds to two schilling or three schilling), but no further description is provided. The 1763 inventory of Simon Tribl, an innkeeper as well, lists six yellow, six white and four green window curtains, as well as six window sheets (Fenster Tücher) in addition to one bed curtain without specification, plus that of silk already mentioned above.35 Textiles for work purposes in agriculture include Glecktücher, sheets of coarse 31 32 33 34 35

StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 92, H. 664. StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 95, H. 668. StLA, A. Seckau Domstift, Sch. 592, H. 167. StLA, A. Seckau Domstift, K. 596, H. 1399. StLA, Mag. Graz D53:1787.

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linen used for carrying freshly cut green fodder to the cattle.36 Similar sheets were used to carry hay from the Alps to the valley during the winter. Linen sheets are also used as sowing devices. Ko(t)zen, or rough blankets, are quite common in the Seckau inventories during the entire time span, partially contextualised with the servants or the stable. In the Graz inventories, no such blankets are mentioned, but a producer of these blankets (Kotzenmacher) and his wife are listed as debtors in an inventory from 1770. In regards to food production, linen sheets were used in the production processes of bread and cheese. However, textiles were also used for more luxurious things, such as the preparation of coffee. In 1776, a widow in Graz bequeathed 2 Caffee Diechln, valued at five kreuzer each. These two pieces of cloth are an example of the problem of terminology or “words and things”.37 Even in the literature of the actual period, there are different definitions of what a KaffeeTuch should or could be. Johann Georg Krünitz describes it in his Encyclopädie as a kind of napkin made of damask or cotton for the coffee table that always has a floral pattern.38 Johann Gottlieb Seidenburg lists it as a domestic textile that was used to filter coffee.39 The position in the inventory under the category wearing apparel (Leibs-Kleidung) between linen and twine is irritating, because there is an extra category for linen (Lein-Wäsch) which contains 65 napkins, for instance, valued at 10 kreuzer each. Thus, a comparison of the values and the position in the inventory suggests that Seidenburg’s definition is more plausible and that the Caffee Diechln were used to filter the coffee.

36 Cf. F[ranz] C. Weidmann, Darstellungen aus dem Steyermärk’schen Oberlande, Vienna 1834, p. 50. 37 Cf. Klaus Beitl / Isac Chiva (Eds.), Wörter und Sachen: Österreichische und deutsche Beiträge zur Ethnographie und Dialektologie Frankreichs. Ein französisch-deutsch-österreichisches Projekt, Referate des 3. Internationalen Symposions des Instituts für Gegenwartsvolkskunde der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften vom 18. bis 21. September 1988 in Eisenstadt (Burgenland). Mitteilungen des Instituts für Gegenwartsvolkskunde 20, Vienna 1992. 38 “Kaffe-Tuch, oder Kaffe-Serviette, zum Aufdecken auf den Kaffetisch, ist entweder von weißem leinenen Damast, oder von buntem Kattun. Beyde Arten sind mit einem ordentlichen geblümten Muster versehen. Die erstern werden von den Damastwebern, insonderheit in der Ober-Lausitz, verfertigt.” See Johann G. Krünitz, Oeconomische Encyclopädie, oder allgemeines System der Land- Haus- und Staats-Wirthschaft, in alphabetischer Ordnung, vol. 32, Berlin 1784, p. 192. 39 Cf. J[ohann] G. S[eidenburg], Anweisung für Frauenzimmer die ihrer Wirthschaft selbst vorstehen wollen: [Z]weytes Stück vom Mariniren, Einsalzen und Räuchern der Fische, vom Hausschlachten, vom Kaffee, vom Thee, und von der Chocolate, Berlin 1790, pp. 92–93. Here he lists: g) Kaffee-Siebe oder Trichter um den Kaffee zu filtriren. h) Kaffee-Tuch zu eben dem Endzwek.

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Auctions When there were no known heirs or when the heirs lived too far away, the possessions of the deceased were put up for auction, as in the case of Joseph Schuemann presented above. This was also the case for journeymen and migrant merchants. An important aspect of these auctions is that they allow a comparison between the values fixed during the process of inventorying and the market prices, although the prices reached at an auction depended very much on the specific situation, such as the participants present. Data on auctions are available only in inventories from Graz between 1764 and 1787, and not at all in those from Seckau. In general, textiles with lower values achieved higher increases at these auctions. This shows the need for cheap goods and the auction participants’ lack of ability to buy more expensive goods. It could also hint to the fact that assessors might have tended to overestimate better goods and underestimate those of poorer quality. The sale of the movables of two inns, whose owner, Mathias Pichler, had gone bankrupt, clearly shows the differences and incalculability between estimation values and market prices. In the inventory, there are three items describing a bed with bedding and bed linens (aufgerichtes Bett), each of which is valued at eight florins. At the auction, however, these beds reached 11 florins and 34 kreuzer, 14 florins and 50 kreuzer and 21 florins and 58 kreuzer, which is an increase between 45 and 175 %.40 The value of these bedsteads with bedding lay in the bedding and the bed linen, whereas the value of bedsteads without bedding was very low, as long as they were not described as being made of special materials such as hardwood or iron. When people from outside Graz died in the city, it was common practice to auction off their – mostly small – property : The journeyman woodturner Joseph Schuller died in the hospital in 1786. His property consisted of – besides some money and obligations of the city of Linz in the amount of 212 florins – a rather small amount of wearing apparel such as coats and waistcoats, underclothing such as shirts and stockings as well as special accessories such as a sleeping cap (Schlafhauben), a pair of braces (Hosentrager) and a carrier bag of a coarse textile material (zeigener Reis-Bünckhl). The total amount of the valued wearing apparel was only five florins, 48 kreuzer. The auction resulted in nine florins, two kreuzer.41 In 1778, many specific textiles were mentioned in the inventory of Johann Donikh, a Hausenhändler (dealing with European sturgeons) from Demeswär 40 StLA, Mag. Graz D65:1787. 41 StLA, Mag. Graz D 1786.

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(now Timis‚ oara/Temesv#r, Romania). After his sudden death in Graz, his property was auctioned off to reduce his high liabilities at home. Besides coins and silver amounting to approximately 54 florins and approximately 423 florins as assets for fish he had sold in Graz, there were wearing apparel and underclothing, weapons and other accessories he had needed on his journey. This sold for 124 florins, 32 kreuzer. Pieces that are indicators of the transfer of material culture include a white Hungarian fur with (probably woollen) cloth and blue silk lining, with a pair of trousers in the same style. These items were valued at 12 florins and sold for 20 florins (1 weiß tüchener hungarischer Belz42 mit blau seidenen Vnterfutter samt 1 gleichen Hossen). A Wildschurr,43 the fur of a wolf, was even more valuable, appraised at 24 florins and sold for more than 45 florins. Even an old green fur coat that was valued at three florins reached a price of more than seven florins. Two Hungarian gatya-trousers made of linen (leinwandene Gathyahossen) remain in line with the other eastern European clothing and sold for 40 kreuzer. Eight shirts, valued at four florins and sold for four florins, 35 kreuzer, or five pairs of cotton understockings (Vnterzich-Strümpf) valued at 50 kreuzer and sold for the same price, show that not all of his possessions were equally desired. Domestic textiles listed in the inventory can be interpreted as a type of emergency good for a very mobile merchant. These include a small towel, an old linen sheet and a cotton blanket, the last being valued at one florin, 30 kreuzer and sold for three florins.44 Unfortunately, the names of the purchasers of the auctioned goods are not recorded in the inventories. Nevertheless, the auction results at least provide some clues on which sorts of goods are especially needed or wanted. Furthermore, auction protocols of any kind also illustrate that textiles – like other things – are not only passed on within the family but are often transferred to complete strangers and likely to other social groups.45 However, it is not clear whether the purchasers were private individuals who were interested in a specific piece of clothing or other textiles or if there are traces of emerging com-

42 Cf. Johann K. G. Jacobsson, Technologisches Wörterbuch oder alphabetische Erklärung aller nützlichen mechanischen Künste, Manufakturen, Fabriken und Handwerker, wie auch aller dabey vorkommenden Arbeiten, Instrumente, Werkzeuge und Kunstwörter nach ihrer Beschaffenheit und wahrem Gebrauche: Fortgesetzt von Gottfried Erich Rosenthal, Achter Theil; von Torfspade bis Z, Berlin / Stettin 1795, p. 51. 43 Cf. J[ohann] C. C. Rüdiger, Neuester Zuwachs der teutschen, fremden und allgemeinen Sprachkunde in eigenen Aufsätzen, Bücheranzeigen und Nachrichten: Erstes Stück, Leipzig 1782, p. 86. 44 StLA, A. Graz Stadt, K. 96, H. 669. 45 Cf. Anne Buck, Clothing and Textiles in Bedfordshire Inventories, 1617–1620, in: Costume 34 (2000), pp. 25–38, here pp. 36–37.

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mercialisation of the second-hand market for wearing apparel, as was analysed by Miles Lambert for urban areas of northern England.46

Conclusion The representation of textiles in probate inventories depends on the legal situation for the individual. However, the administrative practices within a city, a dominion or an office seem to be at least equally important. The marriage contracts – within the matrimonial laws – and the laws of inheritance determine the practice of how textiles are bequeathed to the next generation or to other heirs. In rural areas, the wearing apparel in particular is often excluded from the appraisal, as long as it is not too valuable and there are heirs to whom it can be passed on directly. In the city of Graz, however, most of the clothes are valued. The marital bed as an object of special symbolic value normally is reserved for the surviving partner and therefore not valued in rural or urban inventories. The descriptions of textiles present in the inventories are very often a mixture of terms pertaining to materials, qualities, colours, patterns and design, as well as terms relating to the region where they came from, thus making comparisons and classifications difficult. Additionally, foreign language terms often are written incorrectly, especially in rural inventories. As with other objects mentioned in probate inventories, the textiles and especially the apparel of the poorer members of the population are described in little detail or not at all. More luxurious and/or modern clothes listed in rural and urban inventories, however, are often described in more detail, thus providing more information on the clothes bequeathed. The listings of ensembles are especially helpful. In addition to clothing, beds, bedding and bedclothes as well as other domestic textiles can be seen as an indicator of wealth and standard of living.47 However, due to the fact that domestic textiles are most often brought into a marriage by the wife, these textiles are often not present in the inventories of the husband. Although this listing depends on the legal situation of the individual and the administrative practices in the specific area, the lack of textiles in in46 Cf. Miles Lambert, ‘Cast-off Wearing Apparell’: The Consumption and Distribution of Second-Hand Clothing in Northern England During the Long Eighteenth Century, in: Textile History 35 (2004), pp. 1–26; for the 19th century Germany cf. Hildegard Mannheims / Peter Oberem, Versteigerung: Zur Kulturgeschichte der Dinge aus zweiter Hand. Ein Forschungsbericht. Beiträge zur Volkskultur in Nordwestdeutschland 103, Münster 2003. 47 Sheets, pillowcases, tablecloths, napkins, or towels were for instance used as indicators for wealth by Gloria L. Main, The Standard of Living in Southern New England, 1640–1773, in: The William and Mary Quarterly Third Series, 45 (1988), pp. 124–134, here p. 126.

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ventories is especially prevalent in rural areas, where inventories of women are rather rare. An important difference between rural and urban inventories, which could not be examined here, is the issue of textile production. The representation of raw materials and production tools is an aspect in most rural inventories and documents the importance of textile production within rural households. Inventories from the craftsmen and merchants are prominent sources for gaining knowledge of the local supply of textiles and the materials needed. Thus, legal differences in the making of inventories combined with the varying degrees of accuracy in the descriptions of textiles set certain limits on the analysis, especially in regards to long-term comparisons and even more so for quantitative analyses. Nevertheless, with a larger sample of inventories, it is possible to interpret selected paradigmatic cases. The contextualisation of the listings of textiles within the other movables, as well as the assets and liabilities and their relation to other comparable inventories allows for interesting insights into the use of textiles as an important aspect of historical everyday culture.

List of Archives and Primary Sources Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Graz Stadt, K. 92, H. 664. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Graz Stadt, K. 94, H. 667. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Graz Stadt, K. 95, H. 668. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Graz Stadt, K. 96, H. 669. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Seckau Domstift, K. 583, H. 1383. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Seckau Domstift, Sch. 592, H. 167. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Archiv Seckau Domstift, K. 596, H. 1399. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Magistrat Graz D 1786. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Magistrat Graz D53:1787. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Magistrat Graz D65:1787. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Magistrat Graz D73:1787. Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv (StLA), Magistrat Graz D76:1787.

John Jordan and Gabi Schopf

Fictive Descriptions? Words, Textiles, and Inventories in Early Modern Switzerland1 “I’m not sure I can tell the truth …. I can only tell what I know.” A Cree hunter2

Look at the textile on the next page. (Image 10.1.) How would you describe it? What aspects of it would you choose to highlight? Perhaps the imagery of the abundant flowers or of the wildlife, such as the birds and the butterflies? Or the vivid shades of red? One could focus on the textile itself: what type of fabric was it? How was it woven? What techniques were used to produce these images? Another approach would be to look at its ‘social life’: where was it made? Where was it bought? How was it used? Where was it displayed?3 In the same vein, one could also look at the people involved: who made it? Who sold it? Who owned it? It is an artefact that can open many windows onto the past. This paper probes the names and descriptions of cotton textiles, such as the one pictured here, in late seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Switzerland.4 For the historian, names offer an inviting passageway into the economic, social, and cultural world of early modern Europeans. Especially for a novel product, like cotton textiles, such an approach can shed light on how contemporaries understood and interacted with it and the various changes it set in motion. The transformations sparked by cotton textiles were many.5 Sartorially, they 1 This article was developed in the context of the project “Textiles and Material Culture in Transition: Consumption, Cultural Innovation, and Global Interaction in the Early Modern Period” at the University of Bern and founded by the Swiss National Science Foundation, see . 2 James Clifford, Introduction: Partial Truths, in: Writing Culture: the Poetics and Politics of Ethnography, ed. James Clifford / George Marcus, Berkeley 1986, p. 8. 3 On social lives, see Arjun Appadurai, Introduction: Commodities and the Politics of Value, in: The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective, ed. Arjun Appadurai, Cambridge 1986, pp. 3–63. 4 The textile pictured here was actually exported to a hunting castle (Schloss Hof in the Marchfeld near Vienna) of Prince Eugene of Savoy (1663–1736). Extant Indian textiles exported to Switzerland in the eighteenth century are exceedingly rare. Their design, however, would likely have been similar to the one pictured here (Image 1). 5 Cotton was not alone in these developments – porcelain, tobacco, spices, sugar, cocoa, and coffee – are other global goods that found increasing resonance in the eighteenth century. But

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Image 10.1. Chintz hanging, part of a bed from Schlosshof Castle, Coromandel Coast c. 1700, Cotton, T 9073–5, MAK-Museum für angewandte Kunst, Vienna, Photograph: G. Mayer.

of all these goods, in the eyes of many historians, cotton, especially cotton textiles imported from India, was the most ‘revolutionary’ in sparking these changes. See for example Beverly Lemire / Giorgio Riello, East & West: Textiles and Fashion in Early Modern Europe, in: Journal of Social History 41 (2008), pp. 887–916; Sven Beckert, Empire of Cotton: A Global History, New York 2014; Giorgio Riello, Cotton: the Fabric that Made the Modern World, Cambridge 2013; and Beverly Lemire, Fashion’s Favourite: the Cotton Trade and the Consumer in Britain, 1660–1800, Oxford 1991.

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changed the way people dressed, and increased the rate at which people bought new clothes, thus helping to spur a nascent fashion industry.6 Socially, they began to erode old markers of distinction, blurring the identity-marking function that clothes had filled for centuries.7 Domestically, they expanded how people decorated their homes. Economically, the growth in cotton textiles was part of a broader trend of increased consumption in the eighteenth century – what Neil McKendrick has labelled as “the birth of a consumer society.”8 Helping drive this change in consumption patterns was what Jan de Vries has termed an ‘industrious revolution’: middle class households (men, women, and children) devoting more of their ‘leisure’ time to money-making enterprises in order to be able to afford more of these consumer, particularly luxury, goods.9 Trading networks adapted and expanded both globally and regionally within Europe.10 Retail practices evolved as ready-made clothing grew in supply, shops 6 See Beverly Lemire, Second-hand beaux and ‘Red-armed Belles’: Conflict and the Creation of Fashions in England, c. 1660–1800, in: Continuity and Change 15 (2000), pp. 391–417; Daniel Roche, The Culture of Clothing: Dress and Fashion in the “Ancien Re´gime”, trans. Jean Birrell, Cambridge 1994, pp. 470–500; John Styles, The Dress of the People: Everyday Fashion in Eighteenth-Century England, New Haven 2007, pp. 303–319. Historians disagree on when Europeans began to be motivated by ‘fashion.’ Sarah Grace-Heller has argued for its existence as early as the thirteenth century. See her article in this volume and her Fashion in Medieval France, Rochester / New York 2007, pp. 46–60. 7 Styles, Dress of the People, pp. 181–211; and Jennie Batchelor, Dress, Distress and Desire: Clothing and the Female Body in Eighteenth-Century Literature, Basingstoke 2005. For a fascinating look at how a confidence man used dress, behaviour, and language to steal and deceive in eighteenth-century America, see Steven C. Bullock, A Mumper among the Gentle: Tom Bell, Colonial Confidence Man, in: The William and Mary Quarterly 55 (1998), pp. 231–258. For a critical perspective on the idea of interpreting clothing, see Colin Campbell, The Meaning of Objects and the Meaning of Actions: A Critical Note on the Sociology of Consumption and Theories of Clothing, in: Journal of Material Culture 1 (1996), pp. 93–105. 8 See Neil McKendrick / John Brewer / J.H. Plumb, The Birth of a Consumer Society : the Commercialization of Eighteenth-Century England, London 1982; and Daniel Roche, A History of Everyday Things: The Birth of Consumption in France, trans. Brian Pearce, Cambridge 2000. McKendrick’s hypothesis has not gone unchallenged. Ben Fine and Ellen Leopold contend that he failed to adequately consider the financial implications of such a ‘revolution.’ See Ben Fine / Ellen Leopold, Consumerism and the Industrial Revolution, in: Social History 15 (1990), pp. 151–179. 9 Jan de Vries, The Industrious Revolution: Consumer Behavior and the Household Economy, 1650 to the Present, Cambridge 2008. Sheilagh Ogilvie has questioned whether the effects of the consumer and industrious revolutions were as widespread as their leading proponents contend. She notes the extent to which outside of England and the Low Countries, state and corporate institutions (such as guilds) hindered the possibilities to work and consume more. See Sheilagh Ogilvie, Consumption, Social Capital, and the ‘Industrious Revolution’ in Early Modern Germany, in: The Journal of Economic History, 70 (2010), pp. 287–325. 10 See Kirti Chaudhuri, The Trading World of Asia and the English East India Company, 1660–1760, Cambridge 1978; Kenneth Pomeranz, The Great Divergence: China, Europe, and the Making of the Modern World Economy, Princeton 2000; and Giorgio Riello / Tirthankar

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opened, and a second-hand market of pedlars sprung up.11 The changes in retail and wholesale trade go beyond the mere development of new distribution channels. Merchants began to use marketing techniques such as advertisements, trade cards, and travelling salesman to foster desire and demand for new products.12 Further, Europeans gradually began to produce their own facsimiles of printed Indian cotton textiles; Switzerland, in particular, was a robust producer.13 As stimulating as this research has been, most of it has been confined to developments in England, France, and the Netherlands. Whether, and if so, how, similar developments played out in the German-speaking world remains to be thoroughly investigated. This is not to say this topic has been completely ignored. Sheilagh Ogilvie and Ulrich Pfister investigated textile production in the duchy of Wurttemberg and the canton of Zurich, respectively, but both are more concerned with proto-industrialisation.14 Ulinka Rublack’s Dressing Up is a fascinating look at dress in the sixteenth century, but it centred on elites, not the broader population.15 Anne Radeff examined the integration of rural regions in

11

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Roy (Eds.), How India Clothed the World: the World of South Asian Textiles, 1500–1850, Leiden 2009. The impact on trade was not restricted to Eurasian trade. Historians have shown how the Americas, Africa, and Southeast Asia were tied into these trading networks. See T. H. Breen, An Empire of Goods: The Anglicization of Colonial America, 1690–1776, in: Journal of British Studies 25 (1986), pp. 467–499; James Tracy (Ed.), The Rise of Merchant Empires: Long-Distance Trade in the Early Modern World, 1350–1750, Cambridge 1990; T. H. Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution: How Consumer Politics Shaped American Independence, Oxford 2004; Marta V. Vicente, Clothing the Spanish Empire: Families and the Calico Trade in the Early Modern Atlantic World, New York 2006; Steven Topik (Ed.), From Silver to Cocaine: Latin American Commodity Chains and the Building of the World Economy, 1500–2000, Durham 2006; and Pedro Machado, Ocean of Trade: South Asian Merchants, Africa and the Indian Ocean, c.1750–1850, Cambridge 2014. Margaret Spufford, The Great Reclothing of Rural England: Petty Chapmen and Their Wares in the Seventeenth Century, London 1984; Bruno Blondé / Peter Stabel / Jon Stobart / Ilja Van Damme (Eds.), Buyers & Sellers: Retail Circuits and Practices in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Turnhout 2006; Roche, Culture of Clothing, p. 330–363; Laurence Fontaine, History of Pedlars in Europe, trans. Vicki Whittaker, Durham 1996. Beverly Lemire has noted the huge trade in stolen clothes, see Beverly Lemire, The Theft of Clothes and Popular Consumerism in Early Modern England, in: Journal of Social History 24 (1990), pp. 255–276. The success of new products was not guaranteed. See John Styles, Product Innovation in Early Modern London, in: Past & Present 168 (2000), pp. 124–169. Anne Jean-Richard, Kattundrucke der Schweiz im 18. Jahrhundert, ihre Vorla¨ ufer, orientalische und europa¨ ische Techniken, Zeugdruck-Manufakturen, die Weiterentwicklung, Basel 1968. Sheilagh Ogilvie, State Corporatism and Proto-Industry : the Wurttemberg Black Forest, 1580–1797, Cambridge 1997; and Ulrich Pfister, Die Zu¨ rcher Fabriques: Protoindustrielles Wachstum vom 16. zum 18. Jahrhundert, Zurich 1992. Ulinka Rublack, Dressing Up: Cultural Identity in Renaissance Europe, Oxford 2010. See also Veronika Hyden-Hanscho, Reisende, Migranten, Kulturmanager : Mittlerpersönlichkeiten zwischen Frankreich und dem Wiener Hof 1630–1730, Stuttgart 2013.

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western Switzerland into global trade but textiles played only a minor role in her analysis.16 To summarise, our knowledge of the changes brought about by the influx and adoption of cotton in the German-speaking world is incomplete, especially when compared with other European countries. Employing sociolinguistics to study the terminology used to describe cotton textiles is one way to fill this void.17 Such an approach means moving away from the textiles as objects, and instead towards the words used to describe them. Without words, textiles can only convey a limited set of meanings as a textile cannot speak for itself. Instead, verbal descriptions are needed to draw attention to what attributes of a textile informants found significant.18 For example, when a shirt is labelled as a cotton shirt, the writer is signalling that its material (cotton) has relevance and value. Its other unmentioned features – buttons, colour, patterns, length – are of secondary importance. Beyond the words used to describe textiles, the historian must also be attuning to the universal process of categorising things that shaped ethnographers’ writings.19 As social scientists have long noted, human beings constantly attempt to order and structure their world(s).20 Igor Kopytoff aptly summarised this process, writing, “[b]oth individuals and cultural collectivities must navigate somewhere between the polar extremes by classifying things into categories that are simultaneously neither too 16 Anne Radeff, Du Caf8 dans le Chaudron : Pconomie Globale d’Ancien Regime (Suisse Occidentale, Franche-Comt8 et Savoie), Lausanne 1996. There is an older tradition within Central European historiography that investigates specific factories and merchants on a descriptive level. See for example, Walter Bodmer, Die Entwicklung der Schweizerischen Textilwirtschaft im Rahmen der übrigen Industrien und Wirtschaftszweige, Zurich 1960; Louis Bergeron, ‘PourtalHs et Ci’ (1752–1801): Apog8e et D8clin d’un Capitalisme, in: Annales. Histoire, Sciences Sociales 25 (1970), pp. 498–517; and Pierre Caspard, La Fabrique-Neuve de Cortaillod: Entreprise et Profit Pendant la Re´volution Industrielle 1752–1854, Paris 1979. 17 A central tenet of sociolinguistics is that language reflects and transforms cultural understandings and social structure. See generally Michael Silverstein, Shifters, Linguistic Categories, and Cultural Description, in: Meaning in Anthropology, ed. Keith Basso / Henry Selby, Albuquerque 1976, pp. 11–55; and his later follow-up: Michael Silverstein, Metapragmatic Discourse and Metapragmatic Function, in: Reflexive Language: Reported Speech and Metapragmatics, ed. John Arthur Lucy, Cambridge 1992, pp. 33–58. 18 Ronald Barthes has also argued for the primacy of words when dealing with clothing. As he provocatively wrote, “it is not the object but the name that creates desire.” See Ronald Barthes, The Fashion System, trans. Matthew Ward and Richard Howard, New York 1983, here xii. See also Heller, Fashion in Medieval France, pp. 34–37. 19 As historians have come to appreciate since the development of the ‘new’ social and cultural history in the 1980s, many historical sources have an ethnographic character to them in the manner they describe and portray their worlds. For this reason, we frequently refer to the work of court scribes as ethnographies. 20 See for example, Mary Douglas / David Hull (Eds.), How Classification Works: Nelson Goodman among the Social Sciences, Edinburgh 1992.

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many nor too embracing… ‘structure’ lies between the heterogeneity of too much splitting and the homogeneity of too much lumping.”21

Returning to the example at the beginning of the paper, we can see the plethora of aspects of an Indian cotton textile that an ethnographer could choose to describe. To include them all would lead to Kopytoff ’s extreme of too many categories, while to employ none would land in a position of failing to grasp what made the object special or distinct. In looking at extant descriptions of textiles, however, we can land at a point between these two extremes and see what aspects were most important to early modern Swiss. For this paper, the categories that we focus on are fabrics, patterns, and origins. Unfortunately, surviving cotton textiles from eighteenth-century Switzerland are rare, making it difficult to check the ‘accuracy’ of the descriptions. Yet, the problem is not as severe as it appears. As James Clifford and George Marcus noted many years ago in their (post-modern) critique of anthropology, all ethnographic texts (including historical descriptions of textiles) are incomplete fictions. They can never present the ‘full truth’ of a textile. Rather what they record are what the writer comprehended and felt noteworthy (within the tropes of that genre).22 By focusing on words, the accuracy of the descriptions is of less importance: what matters are the categories and terms contemporaries used to describe textiles. In this case, such fictions are rewardingly revealing. Such fictions are also contextually dependent since the way people talked about textiles was quite varied throughout society. Tailors, merchants, and printers would have had a richer vocabulary as the nature of their trade required specialist terminology. On the other end of the spectrum are the less specific and more general terms that most people would have understood and used regularly. Contrasting these sets of terms, general and specialist, sheds light not only on what the basic understandings were, but also on the more advanced, nuanced concepts that were not part of the general terminology. In assessing the general understandings, our primary source is a serial run of bankruptcy inventories from the Swiss city of Bern from 1650 to 1790.23 Covering a wide socio-economic spectrum, the inventories provide complete lists and 21 Igor Kopytoff, The Cultural Biography of Things: Commoditization as Process, in: The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective, ed. Arjun Appadurai, Cambridge 1986, p. 70. 22 See James Clifford / George Marcus (Eds.), Writing Culture: the Poetics and Politics of Ethnography, Berkeley 1986. 23 For this paper, we created a sample using one full register of bankruptcy inventories from each of the following decades: 1660s, 1680s, 1700s, 1720s, 1740s, 1760s, and 1780s. Each register typically contains approximately twenty-five cases. Norbert Furrer used the bankruptcy inventories to productively probe the private libraries of eighteenth-century Switzerland. See Norbert Furrer, Des Burgers Buch: Stadtberner Privatbibliotheken im 18. Jahrhundert, Zurich 2012.

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descriptions of people’s possessions – real property, crockery, furniture, and textiles. Occasionally, for some merchants or craftsmen, their stock or professional tools are included, but normally, the possessions were personal ones. The inventories were compiled by two councilmen and one court scribe who likely had formal training.24 In isolated circumstances, a tradesmen or guild member was called in to assess stock in trade. Our ethnographers, therefore, came from an educated social milieu. Beyond the inventories, sumptuary legislation, missing and wanted person notices (Signalemente), travel literature, contemporary chronicles, advertisements, and lost and found sections in newspapers also offer glimpses into contemporary understandings of textiles.25 Each of these sources had their own conventions as to how to describe textiles; however, most of these texts were meant to be read and understood by the public. Using esoteric terminology and categories would have been counterproductive. For the specialist understandings, we turn to the correspondence of the Swiss textile merchant and printer Christian Friedrich Lau8. Originally from Brandenburg, Lau8 came, via Frankfurt, to settle in the Swiss town of Wildegg (thirty kilometres west of Zurich). The correspondence captures his dealings with wholesale merchants and sales agents across Europe, and his business partners and fellow cotton printers in Switzerland as they discussed orders, payments, and complaints.26 Linguistically, the Lau8 correspondence also presents a different perspective from the legal sources since it is written in French, rather than German.27 Both languages were common in Switzerland and one cannot understand the region without considering both French and German terms.28

Fabric and Materials Fabric for clothing in early modern Europe followed a standard pattern: wool for outerwear, and linen for shifts and shirts. Beyond that generalisation, there existed a wide range of mixed fabrics, such as combinations of linen and wool. 24 In Wurttemberg, scribes had special training for compiling inventories. See Sheilagh Ogilvie / Markus Küpker / Janine Maegraith, Household Debt in Early Modern Germany : Evidence from Personal Inventories, in: The Journal of Economic History 72 (2012), p. 140. 25 Our gracious thanks to Norbert Furrer, of the University of Bern, for making us aware of the missing and wanted person notices and sharing his transcriptions with us. 26 His hometown was Lippehne (approximately 130 kilometres northeast of Berlin; today : Lipiany, Poland). On Lau8, see Heidi Neuenschwander, Christian Friedrich Lau8, in: Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz, vol. 7, Basel 2007, p. 678. 27 A small number of bankruptcy inventories are written in French; most are in German. 28 See Norbert Furrer, Die vierzigsprachige Schweiz: Sprachkontakte und Mehrsprachigkeit in der vorindustriellen Gesellschaft (15.–19. Jahrhundert), Zurich 2002.

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Silk was also popular because it was lighter, softer, and more decorative, but because of its cost, it was usually restricted to elites. The influx of cotton in the seventeenth century changed this traditional pattern, since it was typically finer than most linen, lighter and more washable than wool, and cheaper than silk. How did contemporaries identify these different fabrics, each of which existed in many different forms? In looking at the descriptions of textiles in bankruptcy inventories it becomes readily apparent that scribes could and did identify the type of material.29 Hans Murer’s inventory included a black wool shirt (schwartz Wollhembd), and David Bastide’s included six cotton handkerchiefs (6 baumwollen Nasenlumpen), and six cotton caps (6 baumwollen Kappen). For Bastide, the scribe also distinguished between nine pair of linen stockings (leinige Strümpf), nine pair of wool stockings (wollene Strümpf), and two pair of cotton stockings (baumwolene dito (Strümpf)).30 Other legal sources, such as wanted and missing person notices, and sumptuary legislation, mirrored this manner of description. For example, Christen Kauffman was last seen wearing a white linen jacket with a brown undervest (weißen leinernen Kittel mit braunem Unter Rok).31 Foelix Zulauff was described as wearing a yellow striped cotton jacket (einen gelb gestrichleten baumwollenen Kittel).32 In Bern’s sumptuary legislation, fabrics (often silk) appear.33 For instance, the 1691 ordinance permitted the wearing of a silk cloak (seidene Mantel) provided the person was of a certain social rank.34 Beyond the legal texts, in their chronicle of Bern, Berchtold Friedrich von Haller and Johann Georg Heinzmann noted that poor farmers in the rural area of Aargau commonly wore small jackets made of coarse linen (Jäkchen oder kurzen Kittel von grober Leinwand).35 Similarly in a Basel newspaper (Avisblätter), a silk 29 In certain instances, such as shirts, the type of material was almost never specified presumably because it would have been obvious. Until the late eighteenth century, shirts were almost always made of linen. See Styles, Dress of the People, p. 90. 30 For Murer, see Staatsarchiv Bern (hereafter : StABe), Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1412 Band Nr. 5 (1682–1686), Case 15, unfol.; for Bastide, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 9, fol. 9. 31 StABe, Mandatenbuch, A I 497 Band Nr. 17 (1745–1749), fol. 260. 32 StABe, Mandatenbuch, A I 499 Band Nr. 19 (1756–1759), fol. 283. 33 Bern promulgated at least five major sumptuary ordinances from 1681 to 1747. Cotton appears in none of them since it was never proscribed in Switzerland. 34 Item/ bleibet zugelassen glatt und blümter Sammet, Attlas und Damast an Parüssen, Pareten, Parementen und Auffschlag, der Mäntlen und Cassaque, Ermlen, Schlüpfen und Kappenböden, a. und zwar alles nach bedeuten underscheid des Stands. See Ordnung wider den Pracht und Uberfluss in Kleidern, wie auch andere Excessen und Uppigkeiten in der Statt Bern, Bern 1691, fol. 5. 35 Berchtold Friedrich von Haller / Johann Georg Heinzmann, Beschreibung der Stadt und Republik Bern: nebst vielen nützlichen Nachrichten für Fremde und Einheimische, vol. 1, Bern 1794, p. 83.

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woman’s night gown still in good condition (Ein seydener Weiber=Nachtrock wohl=conditionirt) was offered for sale, and a cotton bedcover with blue and white stripes (Ein Baumwollen weisz und blaw gestreifft Decklachen) was reported as lost.36 In all these sources, a general pattern of identifying the fabric appears. With each type of fabric, there was more complex terminology than just the broad categories of linen, wool, and cotton. In the bankruptcy inventories, some of the other synonymous terms for cotton include muslin (Mousseline), gingham (Gingan), and Gansauer.37 The exact definition of what each term signifies is imprecise. Gansauer appears to be a Swiss dialect term for cotton.38 Gingan referred to a special kind of weaving or printing with a striped design.39 Muslin was a very fine and light fabric generally made of cotton, but could also be a mixture of cotton and wool or silk.40 Not only did scribes identify fabrics, but the wide range of specialist terminology employed indicates that their knowledge of them was fairly advanced. More frequently used than all these terms for cotton textiles, however, was the French word, Indienne. In the bankruptcy inventories, there are numerous entries using Indienne, such as an old Indienne blanket (alt indienen Bethdecke), a short, Indienne jacket (ein indienener Casaquin), or an Indienne pillow case (indieniges Ziehli).41 In the wanted person notice for Samuel Bachmann, it described him as wearing a blue and white striped Indienne vest (indienige weiß und blau gestrichelte Veste).42 In travel literature, there are multiple references to 36 For the nightgown, see Mit Hoch= Obrigkeitlichem Privilegio Begönstigtes Avis=Blättlein Dienstags, 26. 04. 1729; and for the bedcover, see Mit Hoch= Obrigkeitlichem Privilegio Begönstigtes Avis=Blättlein Dienstags, 13. 12. 1729. 37 Some sample entries of these terms: a neckerchief made of muslin (ein Halstuch von Musselinen), a striped summer vest made from gingan (ein gestrichelte Sommer Veste von Gingan), or four cotton night bonnets (4 gansauwerig nachthauben). For the muslin, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 19, fol. 10; for the vest, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 11, fol. 5; and for the bonnets, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1412 Band Nr. 5 (1682–1686), Case 27, unfol. 38 A Swiss dictionary, the Schweizerisches Idiotikon, suggests the name was perhaps derived from the Bohemian town of Gansau (today near Vimperk, Czech Republic). See Schweizerisches Idiotikon. Wo¨ rterbuch der Schweizerdeutschen Sprache, vol. 2, Frauenfeld 1881, p. 363. For a thorough overview of the different textile terms in circulation, see Ingrid Loschek, Reclams Mode- und Kostu¨ mlexikon, Stuttgart 1987, pp. 99–480. 39 See Claudia Selheim, Das textile Angebot eines la¨ ndlichen Warenlagers in Su¨ ddeutschland: 1778–1824, vol. 1, Wu¨ rzburg 1994, pp. 174–175. 40 Loschek, Reclams Mode- und Kostu¨ mlexikon, p. 432. 41 The use of the adjective form indiennig became more frequent in the 1780s. For the blanket, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1416 Band Nr. 9 (1700–1720), Case 20, unfol.; for the casaque, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 15, fol. 20; and for the pillow case, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1784–1787, Case 3, fol. 5. On casaque, see Loschek, Reclams Mode- und Kostu¨ mlexikon, p. 145. 42 StABe, Ausschreibungs-Protokoll, B IX 847 Band 3 (1782–1784), fol. 286–287.

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Indienne factories in Switzerland.43 In the Basel advertisements, listings include people looking to find, buy, and sell Indienne, such as a listing for two summer blankets with flowered Indienne (2 Sommer = Decken mit schönem geblümten Indienne überzogen).44 Perhaps because of its ubiquitous usage, there are a handful of instances where Indienne was used to describe not just cotton but also silk or linen textiles. For example, the bankruptcy inventories of the merchants Jean Felice and Jean Andre, included “13.5 ell of silk-Indienne,” and “3 ell of linen-Indienne,” respectively.45 It could be these were mixed cotton-silk or cotton-linen fabrics, or perhaps the scribe was simply unaware that Indienne was supposed to be used only for cottons. The nature of the source does not permit further examination. Whether and how often Indienne was used to describe non-cotton textiles is unclear. It is likely that in some cases, Indienne was used to refer to printed patterns on other light fabrics such as linen. But as demonstrated by its definition, “cotton textiles printed in various colours,” in Diderot and d’Alembert’s Encyclop8die, Indienne typically referred to cotton textiles.46 In terms of specialist knowledge and terminology, the Lau8 correspondence does not expand significantly on the terms described above. Since the majority of his work involved printing on plain white cotton textiles, he rarely needed to mention the fabric. It is only when discussing the origins (which we will discuss later) or printing on other materials such as linen did Lau8 specify the material. For example, one order asked for handkerchiefs on linen.47 43 Hans Rudolf Maurer, Kleine Reisen im Schweizerland: Beyträge zur Topographie und Geschichte desselben, Zürich 1794, p. 291; Gabriel Walsers, Reformierten Predigers zu Berneck im Rheintal, Kurz gefaßte Schweitzer-Geographie: samt den Merkwürdigkeiten in den Alpen, Zürich 1770, p. 59, 126; Haller / Heinzmann, Beschreibung der Stadt und Republik Bern, vol. 1, p. 80, 173. 44 Wochentliche Nachrichten aus dem Bericht=Haus zu Basel, 18. 03. 1762. 45 1312 Ellen seitene Indienne mit roselen Blumen. See StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1413 Band Nr. 6 (1687–1689), Case 14, fol. 9; and E 3 Indienne du Lin. See StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1419 Band Nr. 12 (1730–1735), Case1, unfol. An ell was a common measurement for cloth. Its length varied between cities, but was usually 90 to 95 cm. In the Netherlands, Indienne was also used to refer to chinoiserie silks woven in Amsterdam. See Sjoukje Colenbrander / Clare Browne, Indiennes: Chinoiserie Silks Woven in Amsterdam, in: ATaste for the Exotic: Foreign Influences on Early Eighteenth-Century Silk Designs, ed. Anna Jolly, Riggisberg 2007, pp. 127–138. 46 Les toiles peintes ou les indiennes, sont des toiles de cotton empreites de diverses couleurs. See: Toiles peintes des Indes, in: Denis Diderot / Jean Le Rond d’Alembert (Eds.), Encyclop8die ou Dictionnaire raisonn8 des sciences, des artes et des m8tiers, vol. 16, Neuch.tel 1765, p. 374. 47 Mouch 7/4 fd. blanc sur Lin / vignettes rouges, see: Staatsarchiv Aargau (hereafter :StAAg), NL.A-0105 Mappe 8, correspondance of Guillaume Müller, letter from 17 December 1788. In his contemporarily well-known encyclopedia on trade and technology, Johann Georg Krünitz discussed the vast range of subcategories such as raw (rohe) or bleached (gebleichte) linen. Such terms are also found in the bankruptcy inventories. See Johann Georg Krünitz,

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What is clear in all these texts is that ordinary people described fabrics in rewarding detail. Following sociolinguistics, the sources reveal that the material of a textile was deemed noteworthy, whether for assessing value, identifying the wearer, or describing regional variety. Considering the larger sphere of early modern clothes shopping and consumption, where customers were often directly involved in the production of their clothing, such attention is understandable. A customer had to be able to engage in discussions with tailors and merchants about which fabric to choose for what kind of garment. Alternatively, if he or she was buying ready-made or second-hand clothing from a pedlar or a thief, knowledge of fabrics helped one to barter more effectively and avoid being cheated. What this schema demonstrates is that knowledge of fabrics was central to how people understood and engaged with textiles.

Patterns Before the arrival of printed cottons, colourful textiles with complex designs were restricted to elite consumers as patterns had to be woven in or embroidered on a textile, both of which were time-consuming, and thus, expensive.48 The arrival of brightly coloured Indian cottons with complex patterns and the production of cheap imitations in Europe changed that. These cottons made colourful patterns and designs accessible to a larger portion of the population, and also made it possible to introduce new designs at shorter intervals thereby encouraging a budding fashion industry.49 In this burgeoning world of designs, how did writers describe these new textiles? Indienne was once again a common term employed in many places. As its definition above shows, it denoted not only cotton, but also colourful patterns. What exactly the pattern was is less clear; each of the designs in Figure Two were termed Indienne. In the bankruptcy inventories, the descriptions of Indienne seldom provide any detail as to pattern or colour. In a few isolated entries describing a merchant’s stock, there are mentions of floral patterns in various col-

Oekonomische Encyklopädie oder allgemeines System der Staats- Stadt- Haus- und Landwirthschaft, vol. 76, Berlin 1799, pp. 443–473; for the inventories, see (amongst many), StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 19, fol. 6. 48 The technology of printing on textiles (Zeugdruck) was already known in Europe before the arrival of Indian cottons; however, Europeans had not yet discovered the mordant dyes which made it possible for textiles to retain their colours. See Loschek, Reclams Mode- und Kostu¨ mlexikon, p. 476. 49 On the growth of fashion magazines, see Georgette Koning / Els Verhaak, New for Now: the Origin of Fashion Magazines, Amsterdam 2015. Despite the growth of printed textiles, woven patterns like stripes and checks remained popular.

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ours, for example, “112 ell indienne with dark flowers.”50 Other entries note textiles having a floral pattern (blumbde) but without the term Indienne.51 The lack of description with Indienne is part of a more general limitation of the bankruptcy inventories: they rarely provide information on patterns.52 (Image 10.2.)

Image 10.2. Three printed cottons from the sample books of the company of Christoph Burckhardt, Basel, around 1800, HMB – Historisches Museum Basel, Photograph: P. Portner.

In examining the Lau8 correspondence, the poverty of those descriptions becomes readily apparent. The term Indienne is only used as part of the specific term, Indienne ordinaire, to describe a cotton textile with simple patterns and small range of colours. Not surprisingly given their trade, manufacturers needed a larger vocabulary to describe the myriad range of patterns, colours, and special features that were subsumed under Indienne. In the Lau8 correspondence, there 50 112 Ellen Indienne mit dunckelen blumen. See StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1413 Band Nr. 6 (1687–1689), Case 14, fol. 11. 51 See for example, StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1412 Band Nr. 5 (1682–1686), Case 19, unfol. 52 One exception: towels, pillow cases, and bed sheets commonly featured stripes or a check pattern called Költsch, including its related terms Würffelköltsch, Rosenköltsch, and Spiegelkölsch. Sumptuary legislation says nothing of Költsch nor floral patterns since neither was proscribed.

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are at least thirteen different terms used to describe textiles that among the general population would have been called Indienne.53 Some of the terms used include palicat (for simple handkerchiefs with geometric patterns), calancas (for complex patterns with shades of red, lilia, blue, and yellow), pattnas (for small patterns dominated by different shades of red), and lemenias (for blue backgrounds with white patterns).54 (Image 10.3.)

Image 10.3. Neck collar (Göller), Chintz lining, Switzerland (?), Eighteenth century (?), Schweizerisches Nationalmuseum, LM-1036.3.

Besides these terms, pattern books were another way that printers corresponded over designs.55 In the orders Lau8 received from salesmen and merchants, there 53 As will be discussed in the next section, geographical considerations played a role in the choice of these terms. 54 In addition to the four listed above: camayeux, cottons piqu8, guignam (Gingan), Indienne ord (meubles), losanges, mouchoir gross bleu, porzelleine, surat and bazin. Many of Lau8’s contemporaries used Porzellandruck, derived from blue and white Chinese porcelain, instead of lemenias, to describe the same pattern. Most of these terms were not exclusively French or German. Instead they were part of a European set of specialist terms. Indienne, palicat, gingan and lemenias also appear in the records of the Danish East India Company. We thank Vibe Maria Martens for this reference. 55 Unfortunately no pattern books of Lau8’s survive. For an informative look at an Italian pattern book from this period, see Chiara Buss’ contribution to this volume.

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are frequent references to them. For example, Lau8’s salesman Guillaume Müller asked for “four pattnas handkerchiefs… [with] design numbers 129, 125, 133, [and] 44.”56 Even with the hundreds of possible designs, pattern books and specialist terminology were not enough, and Lau8’s agents or customers had to provide further details as to the hue or depth of a colour or specific desired patterns. An order Lau8 received from the wholesalers Marc Fou PHre Fils & Ci from Bayonne illustrates this point. The order called for “half calanca handkerchiefs… [with] a white background, [featuring] bouquets in the corner and roses in the middle, [based on] the following designs number 637, 639, 638, [and] 643…”57 A different order called for calanca number 1313 with a golden brown background and violet stripes.58 Not only did specialists have more terms for patterns, but their terms were fluid and adjustable. In combination with pattern books and additional refinements, they created the possibility of discussing an almost endless variety of potential patterns. Given the nascent fashion industry of the period, the need to alter designs and adapt to ever-changing taste, such flexible and detailed terminology was vital to merchants and producers. In contrast to manufacturers’ accounts, what stands out in the descriptions of patterns and fabrics in the legal sources is their brevity and generality. Whereas producers had a multitude of terms to describe patterns in great detail, for the bankruptcy inventories the label of Indienne – referring to some kind of printed textile – sufficed. In comparison to heavier fabrics such as wool or worsteds, one of the major advantages of lighter fabrics such as linen or cotton, was their ability to be imbued with colour and designs (and to retain them after repeated washings).59 As the term Indienne shows, what exactly the designs were was of lesser importance to most people. Foremost was that the textile featured a design, likely one with vibrant colours.

56 4p Mouchr Pattenas (…) Desseins No 129. 125. 133. 44. See StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Guillaume Müller, letter from 14 November 1788. 57 Mouch(oir) my Calanca 7/4 fond blanc a bouquets aux Coins et roses au milieu dans les desseins suivants No 637, 639, 638, 643. See StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Johann Christoph Rist, letter from 23 March 1792. 58 f. Mordor8 fonc8 / rayes Lilla. See StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Gulliaume Müller, letter from 11 December 1788. 59 On washing and caring for clothes in this period, see Roche, Culture of Clothing, pp. 364–395; and Styles, Dress of the People, pp. 77–82.

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Origins Besides importing fabrics from India, many European towns produced cotton textiles. In Switzerland, the region between Zurich and St. Gallen was a bastion of cotton spinning and weaving, while Geneva, Neuch.tel, and Basel were all major centres of cotton printing. As seen by the use of the French word Indienne, not only in the French- but also in the German-speaking parts of Switzerland, Switzerland’s textile industry was closely connected to France’s.60 In France, Marseille was both a major area of production as well as the only French port allowed to import Asian cotton textiles after 1686.61 Slightly farther afield, Barcelona was another flourishing site of production.62 Interregional trade, much of it illegal as Michael Kwass has recently shown, helped distribute printed cotton textiles around the region.63 Any market or town in this area would likely have offered printed cotton textiles from many sources: local, regional, and foreign. In the legal sources, a good’s origin is rarely specified. Within the bankruptcy inventories and wanted notices, there are only occasional references, such as 10.5 pounds of Bohemian wool (zähen und ein halb lb bömische wollen) or a pillow of Dutch twill (ein runder haubtküssen von holländischen trilch).64 The lack of reference to origins in these texts is not surprising since such information is not easily gleaned by merely looking at an object. References to origin do appear in the sumptuary legislation, however, such as the 1681 mandate that banned the use of Dutch and foreign linen for collars, cravats, and neckerchiefs, but this is the exception.65 60 Calico and zintz were the respective terms in English and German. A major impetus for the development of the Swiss textile industry was the French expulsion of the Huguenots in 1685. See Michael Kwass, Contraband: Louis Mandrin and the Making of a Global Underground, Cambridge 2014, pp. 65–68. 61 France, like many European polities, banned the import of Indian cotton textiles, but Marseille was granted an exemption. Other polities to ban the import of Indian cotton textiles include England 1701 and 1721, Catalonia 1717 and 1728, and Prussia 1721. On the cotton industry in Marseille, see Olivier Raveux, Spaces and Technologies in the Cotton Industry in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries: The Example of Printed Calicoes in Marseilles, in: Textile History 36 (2005), pp. 131–145. 62 James Thomson, A Distinctive Industrialization: Cotton in Barcelona, 1728–1832, Cambridge 1992, pp. 74–75. 63 Significant quantities of Swiss production were imported (illegally) to France. See Kwass, Contraband. 64 A pound in Bern at this time weighed 520.10 grams. For the Bohemian wool, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1412 Band Nr. 5 (1682–1686), Case 16, unfol.; and for the Dutch pillow, see StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764, Case 20, fol. 11. 65 Der holländische und aller andere frömde und aussere Leinwand, soll zu keinen andern Sachen, als zu Krägen, Rabätten, Halsthücher und Halslumpen zu gebrauchen nachgelassen, im übrigen aber bey zehen Pfunden Büss verbotten seyn. The banning of foreign goods was

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Similarly, there is not extensive discussion of a good’s origin in the Lau8 correspondence with the exception of the white cotton that served as the raw material for the printers. In his workshops, Lau8 used both textiles woven in India and in Switzerland. At the auctions of the Dutch and Danish East India Companies, he bought bafftas and cassas, white cottons.66 When these textiles appear in the orders Lau8 received, they are clearly distinguished from textiles woven in Switzerland. While the salesman Auguste Berthoud ordered “handkerchiefs with a calanca border on bafftas” (mouchoir / bords calanca sur bafftas), the calancas Guillaume Müller ordered were to be printed “on cloth from Toggenburg” (sur toiles du Toggenbourg) or “on cloth from Bern” (sur toiles de Berne).67 To distinguish between cotton textiles woven in India and Switzerland was crucial to manufacturers, as the Indian ones were regarded as superior.68 While Lau8 may have been quite thorough on where the raw material originated, there is little indication that he engaged in the geographical branding that occurred with other contemporary textiles. For example, Dutch linens (Holländische Leinwand) or Silesian linens (Schlessische Leinwand) were renowned for their fine quality.69 Thus their names included their origin to further cement this link. Neither Lau8 nor other Swiss cotton printers are known to have engaged in such naming practices, although some of their products were known for their superior quality. For example, as noted in a trade dictionary in 1788, calancas from Neuch.tel “exceed the beauty of the patterns and colours of others produced in Switzerland and Holland.”70 The process of associating specific textiles with specific names and places was not restricted to European places only. In looking at the terms Lau8 used for

66

67

68 69 70

motivated more by protecting local industries than by concerns over extravagance. See Mandat und Ordnung, inhaltend eine Reformation und Mässigung der Kleidern, in der Statt Bern, Bern 1681, fol. 6. For Amsterdam: StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Johann Christoph Rist, letter from 27 October 1780; and for Copenhagen: StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Johann Christoph Rist, letters from 22 November 1785 and 25 November 1785. All across Europe, bafftas and cassas were established names for white cottons from India. For the order via Auguste Berthoud, see StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 1, correspondance of Auguste Berthoud, letter from 1 September 1789; for the order via Guillaume Müller, see StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3, correspondance of Guillaume Müller, letter from 12 December 1788. Lau8 spoke to this belief, when he bought “some low quality bafftas or cassas to substitute for Swiss cloth” (des Bafftas ou Cassas dans les basses qualites pour remplacer les Toilles de Suisse). See StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 11, DeLeuze to Lau8, letter from 19 January 1785. Krünitz, Oekonomische Encyklopädie, vol. 76, pp. 443–473. Übertreffen an Schönheit der Muster so wohl als der Farben, diejenigen, welche an anderen Orten in der Schweiz und in Holland gemachet werden. See Gottfried Christian Bohn, Waarenlager oder Produkten- und Waarenlexikon für Kaufleute, Hamburg 1788, p. 162.

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printed cotton textiles, many, though not all, can be directly or indirectly traced to names of textiles originally produced in India. Returning to calanca, the name appears to stem from a painted textile made in southern India called kalamkari, which derives from the Persian meaning pen work.71 Jacques Savary’s trade lexicon provides the link between the two terms by defining calanca as, “painted fabrics that come from India and Persia…also their name indicates that they were made with a feather [pen] to distinguish them from the ones that were just printed….in Geneva one makes Indiennes in the style of calancas.”72 Like calanca, kalamkari were high quality cotton textiles which required specialised production.73 As Europeans began not just to import kalamkari, but also to produce their own imitations, they seem to have taken over the name, while slightly modifying it.74 For establishing the origins of a fabric, this naming process raises further issues since calanca referred both to textiles produced in India, and to textiles produced in Europe. The same issue exists for Indienne. The word itself, Indienne, is French for Indian (as in something from India). Yet in contemporary encyclopaedias, Indienne is used to describe both European and Indian textiles. Manufacturers like Lau8 were called Indienne printers (Indienne Drucker), even though they were based in Europe, and not in India. With bafftas and cassas, there were also hybrid productions: textiles woven in India, but printed in Europe. Further, European printers tried to mimic ‘Indian’ designs.75 In such a situation, with one name (Indienne) commonly used to describe all production, it seems plausible, and even likely, that for many consumers, there was no stark difference between European and Indian production.76 What mattered most 71 Meaning of kalamkari: kalam = pen; kari = work. John Gillow / Nicholas Barnard, Indian Textiles, London 1991, p. 54. 72 Toiles peintes qui viennent des Indes & de Perse. (…) aussi leur nom signifie-t-il faites aevec la plume, pour les distinguer de celles qui ne sont, que simplement imprim8es. (…) On fabrique / Gen8ve des Indiennes en Calanca. See Calencards, in: Dictionnaire universel du commerce, ed. Jacques Savary des Bruslons / Philemon Louis Savary, vol 1, Geneva 1752, p. 621. 73 The patterns of the calancas were so sophisticated, that some details had to be hand painted after finishing the printing process. See Krünitz, Oekonomische Encyklopädie, vol. 36, pp. 85–88. 74 In addition to calancas such a connection is highly probable for pattnas and palicats. Whether altering the name was a conscious act or an unforeseen consequence of adopting a foreign term is beyond the horizon of our sources. The term calanca spread to the Kingdom of Naples as well where it was also used to describe printed cottons. We thank Alida Clemente for this reference. 75 See Amelia Peck (Ed.), Interwoven Globe: the Worldwide Textile Trade, 1500–1800, New York 2013. ‘Indian’ designs exported to Europe were themselves a fabrication, the result of a giveand-take between European merchants and Indian producers. The end result was an ‘exotic’ fiction to fit with European images of the East. See: Riello, Cotton, pp. 99–100. 76 As Jessica Keating and Lia Markey show for the sixteenth century, this was a more general problem with the term ‘Indian’ as it was used to describe anything non-European. See Jessica

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were again the good’s visual qualities – its bright colours and light weight – not its origins. For this purpose, the term Indienne sufficed.

Conclusions Returning to the textile at the start of this paper and to those many questions posed, which would an eighteenth-century Bernese bankruptcy inventory have answered? Likely, only a few. A scribe would probably have recorded it as an ‘Indienne bed hanging (Bettumhang).’ Perhaps if he was feeling expressive, there may have been a notation of the flowers or some other aspect of its design. With the term Indienne, the need to highlight the material (cotton) or describe the pattern (presumably floral) was likely redundant. Yet in looking at it, the historian cannot help but be awed by its splendour. Could it really be reduced to just an ‘Indienne bed hanging?’ Such a description obscures so much of what made these goods special: their vibrant imagery, their texture, their appearance. Why? As sociolinguistics remind us, words draw the anthropologist’s attention to what the ethnographer felt significant, or what the ethnographer understood.77 In interpreting textile descriptions in eighteenth-century Switzerland, there was certainly wide-spread knowledge about fabrics throughout society, not just among upper class consumers or specialists. People did identify different types of fabrics, whether it was something as simple as wool, cotton, or linen, or something more complex such as a mixed fabric. These facts were integral to how they understood textiles, and recognised social distinctions. When a new fabric, like cotton, came into the market and grew in stature, it was no accident. With such knowledge, the decision to consume cotton textiles was an active one. The knowledge of patterns appears to have been less widely diffused through society. Instead, a few broad terms, particularly Indienne, sufficed. But as seen in the Lau8 correspondence or the bed hanging at the start of this chapter, such terminology comes nowhere close to capturing all the details of a given textile. In this period, as designs and fashion began to proliferate and become common, terminology or descriptions of them mattered only for specialists. Merely the Keating / Lia Markey, ‘Indian’ objects in Medici and Austrian-Habsburg inventories: A case-study of the sixteenth-century term, in: Journal of the History of Collections 23 (2011), pp. 283–300. 77 In the early modern period, knowledge of consumables was no idle matter. In looking at the ownership of luxury goods in Antwerp, Sven Dupr8 has argued that knowledge of a good (and the knowledge that the good conveyed) was an important factor in how upper class consumers prized, thought of, and went about acquiring their goods. See Sven Dupré, Trading Luxury Glass, Picturing Collections and Consuming Objects of Knowledge in Early Seventeenth-Century Antwerp, in: Intellectual History Review 20 (2010), pp. 53–78.

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textile having a (colourful) design – a stark contrast to what had previously been available – was what mattered for most consumers. The lack of specificity regarding origin is striking as research on consumption and demand suggests knowledge of a product and the distance from its origin play major roles in establishing its value.78 Ulinka Rublack recently demonstrated the extreme lengths that Hans Fugger went to acquire shoes, frequently demanding Spanish leather and having the shoes made in Holland.79 In the names of cotton textiles, and the ubiquity of the term Indienne, we see nothing reflecting such a situation. The issue is one of perspective. Hans Fugger was one of early modern Europe’s richest citizens. As an extremely wealthy man, he was more likely to be able to have such a conversation about his clothes. Manufacturers, like Lau8, would have been able to match (and exceed) that knowledge and been able to engage in a highly specialised discussion. The majority of early modern people, however, were not in a position to have such a conversation. For them, despite this boom of global trade in eighteenth century, there is nothing in the naming process to suggest a textile’s origin was noteworthy. Whether a fabric was an authentic product from India or afar, or a European imitation, or a combination thereof, what mattered was that it filled a person’s conception of the foreign or exotic.80 With the description of the textile as Indienne bed hanging, the ethnographer conveyed the necessities: its material, its design, and its exoticness. For most people in eighteenth-century Switzerland, these were the most significant points.81 Were they accurate? Perhaps. Were they all of the points? No. But descriptions are only ever partial truths, incomplete fictions. To return to the Cree hunter invoked by James Clifford three decades ago, “I’m not sure I can tell the truth …. I can only tell what I know.” When describing textiles eighteenthcentury Swiss did the same.

78 Appadurai, Introduction, pp. 41–56. 79 Ulinka Rublack, Matter in the Material Renaissance, in: Past and Present 219 (2013), pp. 41–85. 80 The role of the foreign and exotic in the naming process is something we explore further in John Jordan and Gabi Schopf, Global Goods in Local Languages: Naming Cotton Textiles in the Swiss Cantons, in: Joel Harrignton / Beth Plummer (Eds.), Names and Naming in Early Modern Germany, New York forthcoming 2017. 81 Printers and merchants like Lau8 would obviously have used a more precise description.

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Archival Primary Sources StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 1. StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 3. StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 8. StAAg, NL.A-0105 Mappe 11. StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1409 Band Nr. 2 (1664–1665). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1412 Band Nr. 5 (1682–1686). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1413 Band Nr. 6 (1687–1689). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1416 Band Nr. 9 (1700–1720). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1417 Band Nr. 10 (1721–1725). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1422 Band Nr. 15 (1742–1743). StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1762–1764. StABe, Geltstagsrödel, B IX 1449 Band 1784–1787. StABe, Ausschreibungs-Protokoll, B IX 847 Band 3 (1782–1784). StABe, Mandatenbuch, A I 497 Band Nr. 17 (1745–1749). StABe, Mandatenbuch, A I 499 Band Nr. 19 (1756–1759).

Printed Primary Sources Gottfried Christian Bohn, Waarenlager oder Produkten- und Waarenlexikon für Kaufleute, Hamburg 1788. Berchtold Friedrich von Haller / Johann Georg Heinzmann, Beschreibung der Stadt und Republik Bern: nebst vielen nützlichen Nachrichten für Fremde und Einheimische, 2 volumes, Bern 1794. Johann Georg Krünitz, Oekonomische Encyklopädie oder allgemeines System der StaatsStadt- Haus- und Landwirthschaft, 129 volumes, Berlin. Mandat und Ordnung, inhaltend eine Reformation und Mässigung der Kleidern, in der Statt Bern, Bern 1681. Hans Rudolf Maurer, Kleine Reisen im Schweizerland: Beyträge zur Topographie und Geschichte desselben, Zurich 1794. Mit Hoch= Obrigkeitlichem Privilegio Begönstigtes Avis=Blättlein Dienstags, 1729–1749. Ordnung wider den Pracht und Uberfluss in Kleidern,wie auch andere Excessen und Uppigkeiten in der Statt Bern, Bern 1691. Jacques Savary des Bruslons / Philemon Louis Savary (Eds.) Dictionnaire universel du commerce, 2 volumes, Geneva 1752. Gabriel Walsers, Reformierten Predigers zu Berneck im Rheintal, Kurz gefaßte SchweitzerGeographie: samt den Merkwürdigkeiten in den Alpen, Zurich 1770. Wochentliche Nachrichten aus dem Bericht=Haus zu Basel, 1750–1850.

Index of Names

Abraham, Bishop 66 Albert, Bishop 58 Ahmed III, Sultan 159 Anagni 39f, 45, 55 Andre, Jean 228 Anguissola, Sofonisba 177 Aragona, Giulio Cesare Secco d’ Araldo, Sicillo 182, 185, 187 Arbois, Guillaume d’ 82 Arcimboldo, Giuseppe 178 Ariosto, Ludovico 185

100

Bachmann, Samuel 227 Bali Beg˘ 149 Bastide, David 226 Bayezid II, Sultan 147, 161 Bayr, Niclas 213 Beaufort, Henry, Bishop of Winchester 94f Beaufort, Thomas, Duke of Exeter 96 Beauharnais, Josephine de, Empress of France 195 Bedell, John 206 Bengy, Bertoul de 85 Benedict XI, Pope 30, 43f, 48f Berthoud, Auguste 234 Biancano, Pietro 198 Blanche of Burgundy 76 Blandi, Jean de 82 Blois, Charles de 117 Bodmann, Baron of 210 Bommel, Marten van 172 Boniface VIII, Pope 22, 28–30, 34f, 39f, 45, 51

Botticelli, Sandro 132 Boucher, FranÅois 195 Brambilla, Giacomo 181 Bullock, John 95 Burkart, Lukas 47 Burckhardt, Christoph 230 Byron, George Gordon Lord 182 Candida Giovanni 115 Capuchin Friars 197 Castagno, Andrea da 142 Castello, Agostino 198 Castiglione, Baldassarre 184 Cavendish, John 102, 105 Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy 21, 23, 111–126 Charles VI, King of France 98 Charles V, King of France 14 Charles VIII, King of France 127 Chatillon, AgnHs de 84 Church, John 95 Cinq-Ormes, Simon de 82 Clement V, Pope 30f Clement VII, Pope 131 Clifford, James 224, 237 Coello, Antonio 177 Conrad III the Sendlinger, Bishop of Freising 20, 60–62, 64, 69–72 Constantine, Roman Emperor 28, 50, 52 Cromary, Hugues 82 Crotti, Giulio Cesare 165 Dante Alighieri 138 Delmaire, Bernard 76

240 Diderot, Denis 194 Dirnbacherin, Maria Eleonore 207 Dobler, Franz Anton 207 Dobler, Franz Anton 210 Dolce, Ludovico 174f, 184, 192f, 198 Donatello (Donato di Niccolk di Betto Bardi) 141 Donikh, Johann 215 Dorner, Tobias 212 Dux (Duchov) 209 Dyke, Hugh 95 Dyke, John 97 Edward II, King of England 37 Edward III, King of England 96 Eric VII, King of Denmark and Sweden 99 Ertl, Thomas 45 Est, Thomas 95, 99, 101, 106, 108 Estfeld, William 94f, 103 Evliya Celebi 160 Falke, Otto von 39 Farnese, family 139–141 Felice, Jean 228 Fiesole, Mina da 141 FitzHugh, Henry, Baron FitzHugh 108 Fou, Marc PHre Fils & Ci 232 Fouvent, Hugues de 82 Fra Angelico 137, 141 Frederick II, Hohenstaufen Emperor 28, 52 Frederick III, Habsburg, Emperor 111, 202 Fugger, Hans 237 Garavaglia, Francesco 196 Gentile da Montefiore, Cardinal 30 Ghazan, Il-Khan 52 Ghirlandaio, Domenico 136 Giotto di Bondone 141 Giovanni, Bertoldo di 142 Gondeval, Nicolas de 112–125 Gozzoli, Benozzo 132 Gregory VII, Pope 51 Grießmayr, Peter 203

Index of Names

Griselini, Francesco 181f Gritti, Andrea 147 Guevara y las Torres Medina, Josepha de 190 Gürcü Mehmed Pasha, Vizier 154, 156 Habsburg 25 Hainschitsch, Vincenz 208 Hainschitschin, Maria Magdalena 209 Halil Beg˘ 151 Hans Holbein 5the Younger 92 Hasan Beg˘ 149 Hatfield, Thomas of, Bishop of Durham 69 Haute-Oreille, Girard de 82 Heinzmann, Johann Georg 226 Haller, Berchtold Friedrich von 226 Henry IV, King of England 91, 94 Henry V, King of England 20, 23, 89f, 91f, 93f, 96, 98f, 101f, 103–109 Henry VI, King of England 90, 94, 106 Henry VI, King of England 106, 108 Henry VIII, King of England 89, 92, 109 Hirecon, Robert d’ 82 Hoccleve, Thomas 93 Hueberin, Maria Anna 210 Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester 90 Ingres, Jean-Auguste-Dominique 193 Innocent III, Pope 51 Innocent IV, Pope 36 Isabella, Queen of England 37 Isabella of Portugal, Duchess of Burgundy 111 Isabelle de Valois 98 Jacoby, David 39, 45 Jeanne II, Countess of Burgundy, Queen of France 76 Johannes, Notary 64 John, Duke of Berry 46, 101 John (of Lancaster), Duke of Bedford 89, 91 John Stafford 92 John XXII, Pope 37

241

Index of Names

Kansuh al-Gawir, Sultan 161 Kara Mustafa Pasha, Grand Vizier 155, 157 Karl VI, German Emperor 160 Katherine, Queen of England (Catherine de Valois) 100, 103, 108 Kauffman, Christen 226 Keating, Jessica 13 Kitzberger, Franz Xaver 212 Königsegg, Hans Freiherr von 146f Kopytoff, Igor 223f Krünitz, Johann Georg 214 Kwass, Michael 233 Lambert, Miles 217 Lambres, Arthur and Jean 82 Landucci, Luca 128 Lau8, Christian Friedrich 225, 228, 230ff, 234ff Le Pogam, Pierre-Yves 32 Leo the Great (Leo I), Pope 50 Leo X, Pope 132 Leüthnerin, Maria Clara 208 Le Roux de Lincy, Antoine 73 Leva, Domenico 165 Lille, Jacques de 82 Lipovetsky, Gilles 74 Lippi, Filippo 141f Lomazzo, Paolo 174f, 178f Lorenzo il Magnifico (see Medici) Louis XV, King of France 188, 195 Loyet, Gerard 115 Mahaut (Mathilde), Countess of Artois 20, 23, 73–82, 84–87 Malzo, Conte Galeazzo di 146f Mantovano, Fulvio Pellegrino 175, 185 Marche, Olivier de la 118, 120, 125 Marcus, Georg 224 Markey, Lia 13 Martin V, Pope 94 Mary I, Tudor, Queen of England and Ireland 106 Mary, Duchess of Burgundy 111 Massacio (Tommaso di Ser Giovanni di Monte Cassai) 141 Maximilian I, German Emperor 146

Maximilian, Archduke of Austria 111 McKendrick, Neil 221 Medici, Contessina 131 Medici, Cosimo de’ (il Vecchio) 130, 141 Medici, Giovanni de’ 132 Medici, Giuliano de’ (i) 131–134, 138 Medici, Giuliano de’ (ii) 131 Medici, Giulio de’ 131 Medici, Lorenzo de’ (il Magnifico) 21, 23, 127–142 Medici, Lorenzo (ii) de’ 127f Medici, Piero de’ (il Gottoso) 130, 133 Medici, Piero (di Lorenzo) de’ (ii) 127–133, 137 Mehmed III, Sultan 150 Merindol, Christian de 86 Michelozzo, di Bartolomeo Michelozzi 132 Mitchell, David 100 Morris, William 182 Mortimer, Roger de, Earl of March 103 Müller, Guillaume 232, 234 Murad IV, Sultan 154 Murer, Hans 226 Nadir Shah, Military Commander Neanhon, Guillaume de 82 Nevber Gürsü 158 Nicolas IV, Pope 37 Ogilvie, Sheilagh 222 Orl8ans, Jean d’ 82 Orsini, Alfonsina 131 Orsini, Clarice 130 Österreicherin, Genofeva 213 Otto II, Emperor 66 Otto IV, Count of Burgundy 75 Palyng, John 95 Paris, Matthew 36 Passat, Guillaume de 82 Pazzi, family 132, 138 Peek, William 95 Pesellino, Francesco 141f Petrarca, Franceso 134, 138f Pfabin, Regina 212 Pfister, Ulrich 222

160f

242

Index of Names

Philipp the Good, Duke of Burgundy 111, 115 Philip IV, King of France 75f, 82 Philip V, King of France 76, 81 Philip VI, of Artois, King of France 81 Philippa Plantagenet 99 Pichler, Mathias 215 Pius II, Pope 37 Poiret, Paul 199 Pollaiuolo, Piero 142 Pompadour, Jeanne-Antoinette, Marquise 188, 194 Portinari, Tommaso 115f, 122 Pöschl, Joseph 213 Prinet, Marguerite 100f Procaccini, Camillo 178f Radeff, Anne 222 Reims, Henri de 82 Riccardi, family 131 Richard, Jules-Marie 73 Richard II, King of England 96ff, 103 Ricordi, Pier Paolo 189 Rinaldi, Giovanni de’ 174f, 185, 194, 196 Robbia, Luca della 141 Robert, Count of Burgundy 18, 76, 78, 85, Robert II, Count of Artois 75 Robert III, Count of Artois 73, 75 Rogers, Michael 145, 150 Rolleston, Robert 94, 105f Rothschild, Baronesse de 193 Rudolf II, Emperor 25 Rüstem Pasha 148f Rublack, Ulinka 222 Saint-Moris, Perrin de 82 S¸atır Ali Pasha 156–158 Savary, Jacques 235 Savonarola, Girolamo 127 Scheggia, Lo 142 Schmeller, Johann Andreas 210 Schuemann, Joseph 211, 215 Schuller, Joseph 215 Schwarz, Daniel 204 Scrope Henry, 3rd Baron of Masham 107

Sebire, Philippe 82 Seidenburg, Johann Gottlieb 214 Selzer, Stephan 115 Settignano, Desiderio da 141 Silahdar Mustafa Pasha 151–154 Sixtus IV, Pope 139f Sollar, Anton 207, 210f Somercotes, William 94, 104f, 107 Soria, Castile 45 Spaeth, Donald 210 Stout, John 95, 97, 102 Startford, Jenny 103 Sylvester, Pope 50 Swaby, Thomas 103 Tiepolo, Stefano 149 Tornabuoni, Giovanna 136 Tourneur, Jean de 114 Tribl, Simon 213 Trivulzio, Teodoro, Governor Tropnell, William 102f, 105 Türck, Verena 53 Ucello, Paolo 142 Ugguccione da Fagiola

30

van Dyck, Antony 177 van Loo, Carl 188 Varallo, Tanzia da 199 Veblen, Thorsten 78 Voysey, Charles F. A. 182 Vries, Jan de 221 Weatherill, Lorna 205 Wetter, Evelin 45 Woodstock, Thomas of, Duke of Gloucester 96 Wright, Richard 95 Wynne, John 95 Yunus Beg˘

96,

190

149

Zimmern, Grafen von Zorzi, Franceso 147 Zulauff, Foelix 226

146

Index of Places

Aargau 226 Africa / African 191 Aleppo 154–156 Alexandria 137 Algeria 160 Algiers 154 Amasya 148 America(s) 174, 176 Anagni 39f, 45, 55 Anatolia 156 Ancona 34 Ankara 152, 156 Arras 46, 97, 84 Artois 73, 75, 83f Assisi 45 Ascoli Piceno 37 Austria 57 Avignon 30, 37f Bagdad 153–155 Barcelona 233 Basel 226, 228, 230, 233 Basra 154 Bavaria 57f, 63, 71, 209 Bayonne 232 Belgrade 155 Bergamo 181 Berlin 209 Bern 224, 234, 236 Birkfeld 209 Bischoflack (Skofja Loka) 66ff, 70 Bohemia 209 Brabant 100, 102f, 106

Brandenburg 225 Braunau 209 Brittany 100 Brussels 137, 209 Burgundy / Burgundian 14, 73, 75, 99, 111–126 Bursa 147f, 161 Byzantium / Byzantine 39, 41f, 46, 55 Caen 94 Carinthia 59, 209 Central Asia 20, 43f Chalons 68 Champagne 100, 102f, 106 China / Chinese 43 – design 158 – porcelain 134, 144 – silk 48, 158, 188, 195 – textiles 43 Chios 153f, 158 Colombo 192 Cologne 65 Constantinople 42 Crain 209 Cyprus 20, 39f, 104, 154, 156, 181f

59, 62f,

Damascus 52, 100, 151, 155 Dinant 100f Dubrovnik 148 Dutch – textiles 137, 154, 159 – painters 179 – linen 234

244 Egypt 137, 161 England / English 14, 45f, 55, 90, 99,105ff – textiles 136, 154, 155, 159 – fashion 185, 191, 195 – inventories 205, 217, 222 – origin 36 – royal claim 90 Far East 173 Flanders 76, 100, 102f, 106 Florence 124, 127–142, 148, 151, 165, 169, 174, 179f France / French 14, 46, 55, 74f, 83, 86, 90, 100, 102, 105f, 109, 137f, 159, 170, 175, 186, 188, 191f, 197, 199, 209, 222, 233 Frankfurt 225 Freising 57–63, 65, 69–71 Frisach 59 Geneva 169, 233, 235 Genoa 33, 124, 165, 174, 179f Germany 109 Ghent 78 Gilan 155 Gönyük 148 Graz 202–218 Greece 182 Groß-Enzersdorf 58, 63, 65f, 70 Habsburg 25 Hamburg 209 Hawran 151 Holland 100, 207, 209, 234, 237 Hungary / Hungarian 46, 149, 209, 216 Iberian Peninsula 45 India / Indian 151–154, 157, 199, 222, 224, 233ff Inner Austria 202 Iran 52, 148, 151, 153–155, 160 Iskenderun 155 Istanbul 148, 151, 160 Italy / Italian 14, 21f, 48, 57, 109, 137, 145–149, 159, 161, 168, 172, 175, 184, 189, 191, 195

Index of Places

Kashan 151 Kermanshah 155 Linz 211, 215 Ljubljana 66 Lodi 137 Lombardy / Lombard 68, 70f, 75, 169f, 175, 178, 185 London 36, 153, 186, 197 Low Countries 109 Lucca 20, 30, 33f, 44f, 47f Lyon 52, 169, 192f, 195f Madrid 169 Malines 78, 84 Malmaison 195 Marseille 233 Meaux 90, 94, 104, 106 Mexico 169 Middle East 144, 174 Milan / Milanese 22, 165–200 Missolungi 182 Mongol empire 43, 48, 52 Mount Lebanon 155 Munich 57f Naples / Neapolitan 180 Nantes 12 Netherlands 222 Neuchatel 233f Nicosia 154

135, 140, 165, 169,

Oberwölz 58, 70 Orient / Oriental 188, 199 Osimo 34 Ottoman Empire 14, 21, 23, 143–161 – court 161 – dynasty 150 – financial administration 143 – furs 156 – luxury fabric 161 – market 159 – society 144, 150, 159f – textiles 144–149 – weaving art 149

245

Index of Places

Palermo 41 Paris 75, 79, 83, 100f – style 138 – textiles 153, 170, 185, 187 Pas-de-Calais 73 Passau 209 Payas 155 Persia 43, 160, 235 Perugia 30, 43f, 48f Pienza 37f Poland 161 Prague 58 Provins 80 Reichenberg (Liberec) 209 Reims 100–106, 109 Rome / Roman 42, 50ff, 139 Saint Maximin 112 Saint-Omer 78f, 84 Salonica 153 Schlosshof Castle 220 (image) Seckau 202–218 Sicily 40 Silesia 209 / Silesian linens 234 Skofja Loka (see Bischoflack) Slovenia 57, 59 Spain / Spanish 46, 169f, 174, 190, 237 St. Gallen 233 Styria / Styrian 14, 22, 201–216 Syria 100, 151, 153–155

Switzerland / Swiss 14, 22, 219, 222f, 225, 228, 233f, 236f Timis¸oara (Temesv#r) 216 Toggenburg 234 Tower of London 108 Trier 112f, 120–122, 125 Trofaiach 203 Turkey / Turkish 46, 138, 209 Upper Austria Ushak 160

212

Venice / Venetian 33, 42,48, 68, 100f, 106, 124, 147–149, 153, 158–160, 180, 210 Vienna 59, 62, 65, 155, 160f, 185 Villach 209 Waidhofen an der Ybbs Waterloo 191 Wels 212 Westminster 107 Westphalia 100, 102 Wildegg 225 Winchester 95 Windsor 94, 107 Wurttemberg 222 Yazd 148, 151 Ypres 78f, 84 Zurich

222, 225, 233

58, 63–67, 70