Tag Archives: beguine(s)

Research Seminars

The Other Sister discusses with André Vauchez regarding his most recent book

Leave a comment

If The Other Sister can gather so many researchers interested in women religious who fall outside the traditional lay/religious binaries, it is thanks to the historians who laid the groundwork to allow this type of thinking. André Vauchez is surely one of these historians, whose great works on late medieval sainthood (1981), laity (1987), and spirituality (1993) remain influential to historians to this day. It is for this very reason that The Other Sister was both honoured and excited to have André Vauchez as a guest speaker for our thematic meeting on the fifth of December 2025 to discuss his most recent publication: Les passionnées de Dieu. Expériences religieuses féminines au Moyen Âge. Éditions du Cerf, 2025. 304 pages.

Sean L. Field and Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski offered opening remarks. They highlighted how Vauchez’s work often take the shape of monumental surveys roaming freely over a wide range of subjects, allowing him to find similarities which would not be possible if too focused on one topic. This juxtaposition of topics that could otherwise be seen as unalike, such as recluses and pilgrims, as Vauchez does in his second chapter of his work, casts each in a new light. This speaks deeply to The Other Sister’s mission, to bring together researchers on various types of religious lives, from various parts of the world and times. Renate and Sean highlighted how many of the women Vauchez explores in this book could be categorized as “Other Sisters”: Margery Kempe, Francesca Romana, Ermine de Reims amongst others.

As with many The Other Sister discussions the question of differentiation, both historical and historiographical, of these types of lives were top of mind. First, Michael Hahn asked André Vauchez to elaborate on the distinction he made between prophetess, theologian, mystic and spiritual author and Renate then asked whether there were fundamental differences between Italian and French female spirituality. To the first question Vauchez responded that all terms are often insufficient to capture the reality of these women’s lived experiences, but that he certainly wants to break free of the vita activa/vita contemplativa dichotomy. Therefore, he opts for “spiritual” (spirituelle·s) which encompasses the variety of lives, which were often active and contemplative at the same time or in succession. Regarding “mystic,” he sees this as more an embodied experience, making, for him, all mystics spirituals but not all spirituals mystics. Considering the geographical differences, Vauchez pointed to the conclusion of the book. He spoke of the Mediterranean arc of influence in Southern Europe, where he argued Franciscanism took on heightened importance, allowing for more mailability in female religious devotion. Having observed more indifference for this type of life in Northern Europe, save for in the Flemish regions, Vauchez advanced that Germanic regions were more ready to retain traditional categorisations of religious life.

The theme of categorisation remained as Adam Davis sought Vauchez’s opinion as to where the line was drawn between a saint’s authentic charisma and possible accusations of hypocrisy. When was their charisma even dangerous for the Church? Vauchez spoke of a growing anxiety on the Church authorities’ part regarding this subject in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The clergy was extremely suspect of women who claimed to have more knowledge than them and the inquisition attacked female mystics, saying they were inspired by the devil. However, the line between authentic charisma and hypocrisy was as impossible for them to draw as it is for us. The best minds of the period were not able to do so; Jean Gerson attempted but was not able to. Often it seemed that it was better for the authorities to prevent the spread of their works by translating them into Latin, thusly restraining their spread beyond specialist circles, rather than condemn the mystic. Ermine de Reims is an example that was deemed likely orthodox, but whose works were tightly controlled by the Church authorities. This speaks to the problem of getting at women’s voices and works, which were still often mediated and controlled by men.

The final two questions of the discussion centred around the finding of sources speaking of these women. Anne Ibos-Augé questioned the idea of beguines being an urban phenomenon, given that certain of these women lived in villages or rurally alone or in much smaller communities. Vauchez answered that one must be skeptical of nomenclature, as, for example, he found that the beguines of Rouen were categorised as Benedictines in the parish archives. He pointed that historians previously needed to separate out the groups and create categories, but that we must now see more of a spectrum rather than airtight silos. A lone beguine at home and a recluse were perhaps not so different, therefore, when looking at archival sources we must keep this in mind. In conclusion, Mary Doyno asked: What is the most important question left to answer? To this Vauchez responded that many geographical areas remain understudied, even in Italy, such as Southern Italy. However, his main request is for researchers to be creative with sources. Just as he found the beguines of Rouen under another name, one must look where one does not think to. This extends to other type of archival sources, such as artwork. If one asks new questions, one finds new answers.

The Other Sister thanks André Vauchez for his generous participation. This session made many links between Vauchez’s and The Other Sister’s work and pointed to many interesting areas of research that remain regarding female spirituality in the Middle Ages.

Les passionées de Dieu will be translated into English by Sean Field for Cornell University Press, who are publishing in 2026 Vauchez’ Shrines, Relics, and Saints: Christian Sanctuaries from Late Antiquity Through the Middle Ages, translated to English by Michael F. Cusato.

Research Seminars

The Other Sister Research Seminar: Images

Leave a comment

By Meghan Lescault

As The Other Sister project examines women who often took religious life in new and interesting directions, it was only fitting that we followed in their footsteps ever so slightly for our most recent online research seminar on December 13, 2024, where we departed from our customary format and ventured into new territory. Prior to the meeting, images that had been sent in by several scholars were disseminated to all participants. During the seminar, these scholars had the opportunity to discuss these images that they had come across in their research of medieval and early modern religious women and to ask all attendees for information, ideas, and points of comparison with their own research. This collaborative exercise, hosted by Mary Doyno and Tanya Stabler Miller, was a great success, as it led to robust discussion and a helpful exchange of ideas.

A close-up from the left panel, taken from the larger image seen here.

Isabelle Cochelin began the conversion with the above image of a woman, who is thought to be St. Monica, from a fifteenth-century Netherlandish triptych depicting scenes from the life of St. Augustine. She discussed her search for representations of non-cloistered religious women in art, of which this painting is a potential example. This search has led to questions as to whether such women can be detected in crowds and as attendees of sermons in pieces of artwork. Cochelin also mentioned the difficulties of determining the identity of women depicted in art on the basis of their habits. For example, how can we tell whether the subject is meant to be dressed in the garb of a widow or of another type of non-cloistered woman? Devon Sherwood offered the comparison of books of hours that did in fact belong to religious women but depict their owners in secular clothing. Ashley Tickle Odebiyi offered the insight that the potential St. Monica is portrayed here in a blue habit, a noteworthy point given that the bizzoche of Rome studied by Odebiyi are associated with a consorority of St. Monica that also had habits of a blue hue.

Meghan Callahan further stirred up a flurry of conversation with an image taken from Francesco da Castiglione’s sixteenth-century biography of Sister Domenica da Paradiso. It can be seen on the second page of Callahan’s 2012 article found here. The unusual image is meant to depict Domenica in the midst of a vision, seemingly having a mystical experience of Christ’s crucifixion. Callahan asked the group if others had encountered any comparable images. Amongst several interested respondents, Kate Bush recalled a description of a similar image portraying Vanna of Orvieto in 1306 as well as the accounts of Margaret of Cortona mystically experiencing the wounds of Christ. Callahan was the recipient of several inquiries, as curious attendees wanted to know more about the intriguing image: Who drew it? Could it have been a female artist? Why the detailed outline of Domenica’s legs? Why the Y-shaped cross? Callahan believes that it was composed by Domenica’s confessor and biographer Francesco and that the details of the image simply represent an attempt to portray the sight of Domenica during her visions accurately.

Margot Fassler’s chosen image, found in the Klarenbuch, Karlsruhe, BLB Cod. Thennenbach 4, continued the theme of women depicted in unusual places that are typically reserved for Christ. In this case, St. Clare is placed at the middle of a Last Supper table—seated between Christ and St. John—in a late-fifteenth- or early-sixteenth-century painting by the Poor Clare Sybilla von Bondorf. In comparing this painting to a similar depiction of St. Francis at the Last Supper, also painted by Bondorf and found in the Life of Francis in German (London, BL 15710, f.168v), Fassler surmised that Bondorf may have been appealing to her viewers’ memories, as she painted Clare as the presider in one painting and Francis in the other. This can also be seen in two depictions of Bonaventure painted by Bondorf. Fassler’s work on music, in which one melody can have multiple settings, led her to the realization that a similar phenomenon may be at play in artwork—highly stylized images with similar themes but slightly different details. Amanda Pullan offered a helpful comparison with seventeenth-century embroidery in which women would embroider angel or biblical stories on the left side of the panel, changing the exact content but maintaining the same location of the images.

Tanya Stabler Miller continued the discussion by presenting sketches of the tomb effigies of three identifiable medieval Parisian beguines—Jeanne Brichard, Agnes d’Orchies, and Marie de Gonesse. Images of the latter two can be found on pages 100 and 51, respectively, in Stabler Miller’s book. She pointed out that such items allow for interesting observations about how the women chose to represent themselves, and she specifically drew attention to the girdle books carried by Brichard and Gonesse in these images, suggesting that such an accessory might have an association with beguines. Their connection with these wearable pouches intended to carry and protect psalters and other books would make sense given their reputation for piety and charitable work as well as their movement between spaces such as the beguinage, workshops, and home. In asking the group for comparisons, Stabler Miller received feedback about similar tomb effigies of women depicted with books. Moreover, Margot Fassler and Siobhan Nelson noted the similarity of these girdle books to chatelaines, which were used by women working in nursing and haberdashery to store their belongings needed for such tasks. Stabler Miller pointed out that beguines could function as caregivers and silk-workers and that the need for a storage device of this kind highlighted their mobility and fluidity between spaces.

Diptych-reliquary depicting Dominican saints, saint Ursula, saint Catherine of Alexandria, the Virgin and donors. Burgos, Monastery of Santa Maria de Las Huelgas. 13.2 x 20.2 x1 cm (both panels). Beginning of the fourteenth century. Reproduced with the permission of Patrimonio Nacional.

Mercedes Pérez Vidal brought the conversation off the page and into the third dimension, as she discussed the above devotional diptych and reliquary that probably originated in or near Cologne but is now housed at the Cistercian monastery of Las Huelgas in Burgos, Spain. She emphasized two especially intriguing, even puzzling aspects of this object. The diptych contains one of the earliest known depictions of Helen of Hungary, a Dominican nun who is styled as a saint here, and at the same time, it is very similar to an object that belonged to Christina von Stommeln, a beguine who lived near Cologne in Jülich. Pérez Vidal noted that this points to a blurring of boundaries between cloistered and non-cloistered women, Dominicans and beguines. Isabelle Cochelin responded by inquiring about the price of such a precious object and who would have had the means to afford it. Pérez Vidal emphasized that the origin of the diptych remains unknown but discussed the possibility that it came out of the context of the circulation of relics, especially those of the 11,000 virgins of Cologne, that occurred in the area between Cologne and the Low Countries.

Barbara R. Walters furthered the discussion with a presentation of an illumination in a Mosan Psalter (The Hague, KB 76 G. 17 f. 82v). She explained that she approaches images in terms of historical sequences, palimpsests, and progressions with particular emphasis on the feast of Corpus Christi. The thirteenth-century women of Liège, especially the recluse Eve of St. Martin and St. Juliana of Mont-Cornillon, are represented here by this image from a Mosan Psalter, as this is part of a group of psalters that likely circulated among laywomen of Liège. Moreover, the image’s depiction of the elevation of the host highlights the Eucharistic devotion among the women of Liège, who were instrumental in instituting the new feast of Corpus Christi in 1246. Thinking about generations of recluses, Walters asked the group if it makes sense to see different generations of recluses in Liège as part of a progression from a friendship network to a more formal set of church roles and relationships. Isabelle Cochelin responded that the notion of recluses as wholly enclosed with a locked door has been debated throughout the centuries. While the rhetoric suggested constant enclosure, there were significant variations in reality.

Katherine Clark Walter brought the session to a fitting close with some perplexing illuminations from a fourteenth-century pontifical of William Durand (Clm 10037, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Munich). Three images found on folios 80v (page 170 in the above link), 81r, (171), and 233r (475) depict women standing behind a bishop at various consecration ceremonies, an unusual sight in such manuscripts. We especially focused on folio 81r (171), where such an illumination is paired with the text for the benediction of widows. Clark Walter thought that the woman right behind the bishop might be an officiant at the benediction alongside the bishop and asked the group why this might be. In response, Isabelle Cochelin discussed the often-significant roles played by abbesses at the professions of nuns and introduced the question of the potentially diverging roles of the abbess and the bishop, depending on the sources consulted. Margot Fassler and Meghan Callahan both questioned whether the woman was playing an active part as an officiant or rather was serving as a witness. Bruce Venarde drew everyone’s attention to the highly unusual nature of the image, highlighting the strange placements of the virgins to one side, the bishop to the other side, the woman behind the bishop, and a monk front and center.

Mary Doyno noted that ending on the note of oddity was a fitting cap for this meeting, as its goal was to elicit analysis, draw out questions, and illustrate the need for further research. This session did just that, highlighting the potential successes of crowdsourcing and proving that sometimes a picture is worth more than 1000 words.

Work in Progress

Marguerite Porete and the 1323 Inquisition at the Beguinage of Sainte-Élisabeth of Valenciennes: An English Summary of an Article by Huanan LU

Leave a comment

Huanan Lu, “Marguerite Porete et l’enquête de 1323 sur le béguinage Sainte-Élisabeth de Valenciennes,” Revue du Nord 3, no. 440 (2021): 451–85.

Summarised in English by Joseph George Akl.

There have long been hypotheses on Marguerite Porete’s origins. Called a beguina de Hannonia in the inquisitional records, Marguerite is often held by historians, without prior evidence, to have had contacts with the beguinage of Sainte-Élisabeth in Valenciennes. It is in Valenciennes where Marguerite first appears when her book is burned in the autumn of 1305 or 1306 by Gui de Collemezzo, bishop of Cambrai. This article uses a fourteenth-century inquisition held at Sainte-Élisabeth to substantiate the claim that Marguerite Porete was indeed once member of this community.

The Inquisitions of Beguinal Life

The Clementine Decrees (Cum de quibusdam mulieribus and Ad nostrum), published formally by John XXII in 1317, condemned the beguinal life (status beguinarum) and call for the suppression of this lifestyle, but not where these women lived “honestly in their convents” (honeste in suis conversantes hospitiis). It appears that the investigations that resulted from these bulls were less intense in northern Europe, particularly in the southern Low Countries, than in the north-east of the Empire. Moreover, contrary to the individual nature of the German inquisitions, northern European investigations focused on entire beguinal communities. To clarify the bulls, in 1320, John XXII began sending the bull Cum de mulieribus to various bishops, in which he requested that they undertake investigations of the beguines in their jurisdictions without troubling the good beguines. In this letter he also specified that honest beguines were to be protected from harassment.

The inquisitorial records of Cambrai are more complete than those of the surrounding bishoprics. Pierre de Lévis-Mirepoix, bishop of Cambrai, received the bull Cum de mulieribus on December 30th, 1320, however he did not undertake any investigation until 1323. On the 28th of July of that year, he appointed the Premonstratensian Godefroy II de Bavay, abbot of Vicoigne as the sole investigator. Godefroy then began his investigatio on the 4th of August 1323 and then, the beguines are officially pronounced to be orthodox.

The Beguinage of Sainte-Élisabeth of Valenciennes

The beguinage was founded in 1239 and had grown steadily throughout the thirteenth century to become its own parish in 1254 with a hospital, church, convent, houses, mill, and a school. Unlike what has been claimed by Walter Simons, it does not seem that the beguines of Sainte-Élisabeth were in decline following the Clementine Decrees; They continued to call themselves “beguines” and had an increasing amount of communication with other religious and lay institutions in the city during this period. Furthermore, the count of Hainaut’s family continued to protect the community and the countess, Jeanne de Valois, reconfirmed the donation of a house to the community made by a previous countess in 1269.

The Inquisitional Records

All our information concerning the investigatio of 1323 is provided to us through one document, numbered as 40 H 552/1336, and held in the Archives départementales du Nord in Lille. The document lists all the actors and witnesses in the investigation and demonstrates the protection from which the beguinage benefitted. Moreover, all of these are local. Amongst the many named are the countess Jeanne de Valois and her two daughters, six Dominicans, four Franciscans, and the priests of the beguinage. The choice of Godefroy, the abbot of Vicoigne, as the sole prosecutor or inquisitor, is also of note as he was already the protector of the beguines of Valenciennes. This willingness to protect the beguines of Sainte-Élisabeth comes through in the rapidity of the process — he begins the investigation only a week after being told to do so by the bishop –, and through the manner in which he investigates. No individual examinations are held; instead the process seems to be more of a public meeting, in the presence of important figures, to reaffirm the orthodoxy of the beguinage. After speaking with the Dominicans and Franciscans who asserted the community’s obedience, humility, and chastity, Godefroy spoke with tres honestas mulieres (perhaps the sovereign and two mistresses of the community), duodecim alias mulieres of good reputation and then another alias viginti chosen by the former twelve. It is noteworthy that all the beguines were present at the investigatio even if not called upon.

The Mention of Marghoneta

These beguines were asked if they had ever discoursed on the Holy Trinity or on the divine essence, or if they had promulgated any beliefs contrary to the Catholic faith. They replied that there was once a certain Marghoneta, who had been executed for her beliefs, however, when she was with them, she never had the slightest follower in her beliefs.

Responderunt unanimi et supplici devotione quod non nisi solummodo de quadam que dum vivebat fuit nominata Marghoneta que ob sue culpe demerita deleta dicebatur, justicia exigente, adtamen inter ipsas illa Marghoneta nullam unquam prorsus habuit suarum sectatricem errorum.

This Marghoneta must in fact be Marguerite, which further advances the idea that the inquisition was simply a piece of theatre used to distance the beguinage from Marguerite Porete.

The name Marghoneta is not attested in contemporary sources from the Hainaut. Marguerite, however, is the name of some of the countesses of Hainaut and is very common in the region, with its variants (Margareta in Latin, or Margherite in Middle French which can be written Margrite). Marghoneta, might therefore be a diminutive of Marguerite, reserved for a woman of modest standing, while Marguerite was reserved for the beguines of higher social rank. This hypocorism adds an important element to the discussion of Marguerite’s social background.

While Marguerite’s social background may remain a mystery, what does not is Marguerite’s unwelcomeness in Valenciennes. No trace of her exists in the city archives, meaning she might have had a subaltern presence in the community and was never called upon to witness legal deeds. Furthermore, the beguines during the investigation call her “a certain woman named Marghoneta.” The absence of a family name and the phrasing place distance between the community and Marguerite. The beguines also speak about this unanimously, implying that is a commonly known fact. While we do not know how many beguines present at the investigation in 1323 would have been in the beguinage during Marguerite’s stay at the start of the fourteenth century, it is highly likely that some would have known her, such as Jeanne de Bavay, who lived in the community prior to 1299 and until 1350. Lastly, during Marguerite’s trials, her community is never by her side.

Godefroy’s Double Roles

Godefroy was not only the protector of the beguines in Valenciennes, he was also highly respected by both lay and religious institutions. He was advisor to Willliam I and William II, successive counts of Hainaut, a theologian, student of John of Tongres, represented the count in papal matters, and was called to the council of Vienne. He appears to have been sympathetic to the beguines’ cause.

Very shortly after the publication of the Clementine Decrees, prior to the investigation, the beguines of Sainte-Élisabeth elected new leaders, probably all new save Godefroy and Marie de Saint-Élier, respectively procurator and Grand Mistress. This choice demonstrates firstly that the beguines were shrewdly aware of the problems that could arise due to the decrees and hoped to stay ahead of any issues by choosing new leaders. Secondly, the choice of Godefroy, was foresighted due to his presence at the Council of Vienne.

The bishop of Cambrai also had his reasons to select Godefroy to execute the mission requested by the papacy. Cum de mulieribus speaks to rooting out bad beguines but also to protecting good beguines from any harassment. This proved to be challenging as it was not entirely clear precisely what the pope meant in the bull. The bishop was aware of the delicate situation on his hands as Marguerite’s previous presence could be an issue. He chose Sainte-Élisabeth as the first beguinage to investigate in his bishopric, three months before Brussels or Antwerp. This haste demonstrates his eagerness to settle the issue quickly. Furthermore, his choice of Godefroy as the sole investigator is also telling as in Brussels and Antwerp he relied on multiple officials from various religious institutions. Be it to please the count or the bishop, or out of sympathy for the beguines, Godefroy had no reason not to defend the beguines.

This investigation of Sainte-Élisabeth in 1323 in which over fifty people intervened, including all the beguines, their priests, members of the mendicant orders nearby, the countess and her daughters, provides us with not only a detailed model of a beguinal investigation. It also gives us the first trace of Marguerite Porete at Sainte-Élisabeth of Valenciennes, who was still being called Marghoneta.

Work in Progress

The Daughters and Sisters of Odelind – a Network of Non-Cloistered Religious Women

Leave a comment

By Letha Böhringer

Religious women who were not cloistered were called beguines in the north of the German-speaking countries, and sisters or Seelfrauen in the south of this region. These women were found in almost every town and even in the countryside. One of their characteristics was that they did not establish overarching institutions or joint leadership, neither on a local nor on a supra-local level.

Two Beguines. Church St Agnes of the Beguinage, Sint-Truiden (Belgium), detail of a fresco. Picture taken by Letha Böhringer

However, there is an exception to every rule. It has been known for quite a while that the sisters of an independent community in Schweidnitz (in medieval Silesia, today Świdnica in Poland) formed a network with convents at Breslau/Wrocław, Erfurt and Leipzig; the sisters moved between the houses, and they seem to have supported each other by transferring money in case of need. The Schweidnitz sisters were interrogated by a committee of inquisitors in 1332, and the inquisition protocol reveals many aspects of the community’s inner life and the attitude of the sisters. One detail, though, remained obscure: the sisters refer to themselves as the daughters of Udyllindis. They had no explanation of who she was; she does not seem to have been the foundress of the convent, but rather an inspirational charismatic figure.

Preparing a new edition of the inquisition protocol, the editors contacted me in order to check the prosopographic material of my database which contains more than 2100 names of beguines living in Cologne between 1223 and ca. 1400.

Cologne. Kölnisches Stadtmuseum, Koelhoffsche Chronik (1499), fol.140.

Cologne housed a great number of beguines and convents during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and its citizens produced a huge amount of written record. In addition to testaments and charters, the citizens kept so-called Schreinsbücher (official record books kept in cabinets, i.e. Schreine) which resemble modern land registers. Apart from transactions concerning real estate, they also contained donations to and foundations of beguine convents.

Example of a Schreinsbuch. Website of the École des Chartes.

My database documents thousands of such entries and evidence from charters and other sources. After publishing about a dozen articles from this material, I am currently writing a monograph on the beguines of Cologne supported by a grant from the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft. The grant also provides for assistance from the Cologne Center for eHumanities, especially the help of a post-graduate specialist, Jan Bigalke, who modulates the database to make it open access on the internet.

My data provides key material for the identification of the Schweidnitz figure of Udyllindis. In 1291, a woman who called herself Odelindis from Pyritz (in the medieval duchy of Pomerania, today Pyrzyce in Poland), founded her own convent in Cologne which she headed as the Magistra. This convent was the first of about a dozen communities which were quickly singled out by their contemporaries as different from earlier beguinages: these beguines were called swesteren/swestrisse/ swestriones in the German vernacular, and they exercised strict poverty in their convents. Therefore, they were also called willige Arme, the “voluntary poor”. As third time’s the charm, another trace of Udyllindis/Odelindis was found via a research network which I co-founded (Agfem). Preparing her thesis on the beguines of Eastern Swabia, Barbara Baumeister discovered a similar name in charters of around 1350: a community of poor sisters called themselves the sisters of Udelhild.

Not only the obvious similarity of the names, which are not very common ones, but also characteristic features of the convents point to common origins. We know of quite a few women who travelled great distances in order to join one of these convents. The houses in Cologne and Augsburg were acquired from their own money, without patrons or benefactors. All the women organized themselves as associations based on an oath (Schwurverband) called unio in Latin or Einung in German. The novices pledged allegiance to the ideals of strict poverty and obedience. The sisters were well respected by their neighbors and received donations. We do not know why, suddenly, they were persecuted in Schweidnitz and, it seems, their house was dissolved; there was obviously some internal strife which might have instigated the inquisition. The convent in Cologne eventually became a member of the Cellite order, and the Augsburg sisters became Dominican sisters around 1700, whose monastery exists to this day.

The discovery of Odelind’s network of voluntary poor sisters gives insight on how a “movement” was formed and spread over great distances. Her congregation is a phenomenon never described before: independent women travelling the trade routes from city to city, forming convents according to their own rules and ideals, from their own money, distanced from local clergy and authorities, and respected by their contemporaries. They constitute an intriguing group and show what women in the later Middle Ages were capable of self-governance and independence, and could have the determination to live lives according to their own desires and designs.

 

Forthcoming:

Letha Böhringer, “The Swesteren of Piritz and of Cologne and their European Context,” in The Beguines of Medieval Świdnica: the Interrogation of the ‘Daughters of Odelindis’ in 1332, ed. by Tomasz Gałuszka and Paveł Kras (Heresy and Inquisition in the Middle Ages). York, 2023.

In German:  Letha Böhringer, “Die Schwestern und Töchter der Odelind von Pyritz. Ein überregionales Netzwerk von Beginen im Reich wird sichtbar,” in Mitteilungen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung (2023).

Barbara Baumeister, “Schwestern der Udelhild. Eine geistliche Gemeinschaft in Augsburg mit europäischen Verbindungen,” Zeitschrift des historischen Vereins für Schwaben 151 (2023).

Research Seminars

The Other Sister Research Seminar: Habits and Habitual Dress

Leave a comment

by Isabelle Cochelin and Alison More

On November 7, 2022, The Other Sister research group held a seminar on the topic of Habits and Habitual Dress. Four invited speakers presented some of their work on the subject, which had been circulated to all participants prior to the meeting:

  • Alejandra Concha Sahli, “Habit Envy: Extra-Religious Groups, Attire, and the Search for Legitimation Outside the Institutionalised Religious Orders,” in Medieval Clothing and Textiles 15 (2019):137-56.

For additional information, we also sent: Alejandra Concha Sahli, “Habit Envy: Extra-Religious Groups, Attire and the Search for Legitimation Outside the Institutionalised Orders”, 3rd chapter of “The Meaning of the Habit: Religious Orders, Dress and Identity, 1215-1650”, PhD thesis, UCL, 2017.

  • Kirsty Schut, “Death and a Clothing Swap: An Unusual Case of Death and Burial in the Religious Habit in Fourteenth-Century Naples,” Viator (2019): 185-226.

 

  • Thomas M. Izbicki, “Nuns Clothing and Ornaments in English and Northern French Ecclesiastical Regulations,” in Refashioning Medieval and Early Modern Dress, ed. Gale R. Owen-Crocker and Maryn Clegg Hyer (Boydell and Brewer, 2019), p. 237-54.

 

As befits the subject, our discussion on habits was comprised of many threads. The issue of what constituted religious dress, what (and whether) it conveyed authority were addressed along with more practical concerns such as sewing and purchasing garments. In all, it seems that both the growing fields of material history and study of The Other Sister are rich areas for further study.

The work of Dr. Alejandra Concha Sahli, who teaches medieval history and works in public policy in Chile, explores identity and issues of legitimation connected with the visual appearance of beguines. By adopting aspects of the appearance of more traditional nuns, newer religious movements could more easily secure a legitimate role in the social and religious landscapes. They were, however, also often accused of borrowing the habits of others, and thus coming under attack. Dr Concha Sahli mentioned Nathan Joseph’s 1986 book Uniforms and Nonuniforms: Communication through Clothing, as useful to understand that, in the Middle Ages, the “habit made the monk”.

Dr. Kirsten Schut, a Mellon Fellow at the Pontifical Institute for Mediaeval Studies, focused her discussion on the new directions for research explored in her article, other articles in progress as well as her book project on entrance ad succurrendum and lay death and burial in religious habits. In particular, she mentioned the taking of the habit on the deathbed as sometimes representing the final stage in the journey of a tertiary. While the majority of cases of lay individuals choosing to be buried in a religious habit in her rather extensive bibliographical catalogue involve habits of traditional orders, mainly Dominican and Franciscan, Dr. Schut identified cases of women wanting to be buried in the habit of a ‘beguine,’ ‘vestita,’ ‘mantellata,’ ‘pinzochera,’ or third order. These cases were largely from Italy and Southern France, but this might be more reflective of the sources than practices. Overall, donning a religious habit on one’s deathbed demonstrates another unofficial way individuals could be linked to a religious order after their death.

Professor Thomas Izbicki, a historian of Canon Law, now retired from Rutgers, who is also active in DISTAFF (Discussion, Interpretation and Study of Textile Arts, Fabrics and Fashion), began his presentation by pointing out that the subject combined two of his major interests, clothing and the value of religious visitations. Differences in wealth among the nuns were often expressed in difference in clothing, even within one house. He also raised the issue of textiles produced in houses of women for non-liturgical purposes. Women’s houses were generally not given the same kind of financial support as the houses of their male counterparts. Before the seventeenth century, nuns were not allowed to teach. More attention should therefore be given to the ways these houses were able to produce goods (such as sweets or sewing works) to survive financially and stay afloat.

Professor Gabriella Zarri, now retired from the University of Florence, who is responsible for some of the foundational work on non-traditional women religious, focused on the role and purpose of a habit. Pointing out that many major rites of passage are marked by ceremonies of clothing or unclothing (from birth to death), she traced the ways this manifested itself in female religious life with reference to marriage iconography, and the cult of Mary Magdalene. Zarri touched upon the meaning of some elements of profession, such as the reception of a crown of thorns to be transformed into the afterlife into a crown of glory. She also discussed the Dimesse, an order of widows, whose habits were simple, but retained elements of the elegance associated with the social status of women in the world (see fig. 8 in the English summary of her article).

The discussion began with the issue of tertiaries, and the significance of the change of habit as the final stage in the journey of a tertiary. Kirsten Schut pointed to the frequency of burial in religious habits. The habits were often switched from tertiary to monastic habit. Delfi Nieto raised the issue of queens who were buried in religious habits, sometimes even tertiary habits; there is certainly a need for further exploration of this practice. Joseph Akl asked if the religious habits donned at death were always specific to a religious group to which Kirsten Schut answered positively, at least until the 19th century/early 20th century, when secular undertakers used more generic clothing.

The discussion then moved to the Cult of the Magdalene.

The issue of what constituted religious dress was also mentioned. Alejandra Concha Sahli elaborated on when the “clothing” of beguines became official. Kirsten Schut also raised the issue of veils. There does not seem to be much clarity on when “official” decisions were made about clothing, but Gabriella Zarri pointed out that it was stable in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Meghan Lescault asked about if/when habits were officially designated as “sacramentals”. It is a theological category that was not very clearly defined, at least in the Middle Ages. Prof. Izbicki referred to Cordelia Warr’s 2010 book, Dressing for Heaven: Religious Clothing in Italy, 1215-1545. Dr Schut pointed out that a link was often made between baptism and taking a habit. Again, the ceremony of veiling seems to be key. Katherine Walter Clark pointed out that there were comparable practices for the veiling of widows.

Fr. Augustine Thompson mentioned that habit was a key part of Dominican penitential identity. He added that, curiously, by the fifteenth century, women associated with the Dominican penitential movement were increasingly portrayed as cloistered nuns rather than as tertiaries.

As well as a liturgical dimension, there were many practical concerns related to the habit. Eva Cersovsky asked who was making them. Answers to this question were diverse: some female communities might have taken care of making their own habits but it does not seem to have been the norm. Parallels with the recluses were discussed in the chat.

Isabelle Cochelin asked if there was a clear distinction between the habits of nuns and the ones of non-cloistered religious women. She also asked who was the woman in black beside Mary-Magdalene in the 1582 painting by Francesco Cavazzoni of Christ’s Sermon to Mary Magdalene presented by Professor Zarri during her presentation (see fig. 6 in her article and the English summary of her article). Professor Zarri answered that it could be a widow as the clothing of widows was similar to that of nuns. Dr. Concha Sahli pointed out that the difference between beguines’ habits and nuns’ remains an open question.