Acknowledgments
I did not set out to write a book on French urban histories in the early modern period. To be frank, I originally found these local histories tedious. My original purpose in examining them was to compare the historical traditions of other towns in western France to what I had observed in Poitiers, the subject of my first book. As I read, though, I kept coming across connections. In Agen, Jean Darnalt mentioned the work of François de Belleforest as authoritative on questions of his town’s history, and in Orléans, it turned out, humanist Léon Trippault had housed Raymond Rancurel during the time that the engraver produced several of the city views that would feature in Belleforest’s Cosmographie universelle. When, during a brief visit to Princeton, I mentioned these discoveries to Tony Grafton, he remarked that it is always exciting to “fall through the floor” in this way. That is indeed what it felt like to me: I suddenly saw a whole world of historical exchanges and individual relationships where I had previously found stylized displays of questionable information.
In reflecting back on a work that emphasizes scholarly connections, exchange of sources and methods, and historical influences, I feel both privileged and self-conscious to acknowledge all of the help, feedback, and fellowship that I received in the research and writing of this book. While early modern historians had to make use of personal connections to gain access to archival documents and manuscripts, I benefited from the professionalism and assistance of numerous archivists and librarians. In this regard, I would particularly like to thank the staffs of the Rare Books Room at the Van Pelt Library at the University of Pennsylvania, where I began this work; the Archives communales d’Angoulême, for their interest in my research along with offers of un petit café; the Archives communales de Reims; the Archives communales de Riom, where I deeply appreciate their enthusiastic accueil and permission to work outside of regular opening hours; the Bibliothèque Carnegie at Reims; the Bibliothèque Inguimbertine at Carpentras, especially for permission to study manuscripts from the Collection Peiresc in the original; the Médiathèque François Mitterrand at Poitiers, as always; and of course, the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Salle des Manuscrits.
Likewise, where early modern érudits took advantage of voyages to Paris and elsewhere to discuss their projects, I gained enormously from opportunities to present my work in talks and seminars and to engage in invaluable discussions afterward. I am particularly grateful for early invitations from Robert A. Schneider and Katherine Jansen at the Catholic University of America and Denis Crouzet at Paris iv-Sorbonne for their lively discussions of urban history writing and encouragement that I was headed down an interesting path; later invitations to the research seminars of Robert Descimon, Élie Haddad, Fanny Cosandey, and Mathieu Marraud, as well as Fanny Cosandey and Pierre Bonin at the é.h.é.s.s., where I found the discussions invaluable and the feedback key to developing further some aspects of my research; a visit to the Cours d’Été of the Institut de la Réformation organized by Philip Benedict and Daniela Solfaroli Camillocci at the University of Geneva, where lively conversations with the teachers and the students encouraged me to develop further my focus on history writing during the French Wars of Religion; and, most recently, invitations from Dominique Le Page, Jérôme Loiseau, and Jim Collins to present portions of my work at the Université de Bourgogne, the Université de Franche-Comté, and the William Beik Memorial Seminar at Georgetown University, respectively.
Early modern urban historians exchanged memoranda, discussed sources and their interpretation through letters, and occasionally read each other’s work. Although I am not someone who tends to solicit a great deal of feedback for my writing, I have nevertheless accumulated a number of debts over the years. Many colleagues have read and commented on individual chapters, or in two cases, the entire manuscript, and I would like to thank them for their insights and suggestions for improvement: Ann Adams, Megan Armstrong, Philip Benedict, Julien Bortolussi, Barbara Diefendorf, Beth Digeser, Adrienne Edgar, Mark Greengrass, Mack Holt, and Stefania Tutino. Additionally, I am grateful to Beth Digeser for discussions of the scholarship on Roman Gaul and to Sharon Farmer for helping to orient my readings on Carolingian France. I also owe a special thank you to Clarisse Coulomb for lively discussions of urban histories; Robert Descimon for introducing me to the important topic of early modern genealogical writing; Philip Benedict for first alerting me to the fascinating work of Claude Blondeau in Le Mans; Constance Brittain Bouchard for discussing detailed questions over email about the descent of Carolingian noble families; and David van der Linden for sharing work on the French Wars of Religion before publication. My appreciation also goes to Chloé Roberts for helping to check references in parts of the manuscript, to Tim Page for his careful copyediting, to Raymond DePew-Paas for compiling the index, and, as always, to Xiao-bin Ji for his moral and logistical support.
Some French local historians obtained payments from the town councils of the cities whose histories they were writing, and I wish to acknowledge the financial support I have received for my research. I was able to spend a year in France in 2007–8 thanks to a University of California President’s Research Award in the Humanities and then to return for three months in 2012 as a Professeur Invitée at the é.h.é.s.s. and with the aid of a ucsb Academic Senate Faculty Research Grant. A second ucsb Academic Senate Faculty Research Grant enabled me to do follow-up research in the summer of 2017. A small amount of the research for this book has been published previously in different form. Some of the analysis of Belleforest’s historical outlook included in chapter 3 appeared in an earlier version in my article, “Cosmography, Local History, and National Sentiment: François de Belleforest and the History of Paris,” French Historical Studies 35, no. 1 (Winter 2012): 31–60, and I told the main story of the interactions between André Duchesne and the citizens of Reims in chapter 8 in a different form in “La république urbaine et la République des lettres: André Duchesne, Jean Rogier, et le sens de l’histoire locale à Reims au xviie siècle,” Histoire, économie, société 30, no. 2 (2011): 29–45.
Finally, in a work of historiography, it seems particularly appropriate to recognize the historical mentors who have made such an impact on my own historical understanding. Once again, I wish to thank Natalie Zemon Davis for her unfailing support over many years and for the example she sets as an engaged historian. Her work has always inspired me to attempt to look at historical actors as living individuals and to recognize divergent voices whenever they appear. To Robert Descimon I am deeply grateful for his advice and encouragement from my days as a graduate student until the present. The research seminar that he has led with others has always been a home-away-from-home in Paris, and the nuanced way in which his work relates Parisian social concerns, political practices, and civic culture has been a model for my own investigations in the French provinces. I also wish to thank Tony Grafton, whose humanity and erudition have stood as an inspiration. It was his scholarship that shaped my own understanding of early modern intellectual life, and as I have studied the outer reaches of the early modern Republic of Letters, I have felt that I look to him as someone like Jean Munier of Autun may have regarded André Duchesne. Finally, my thanks go to Bill Jordan, who introduced me to the lived environment of European medieval cities. His works are simultaneously institutionally precise and dynamically presented, proof that one can be detailed and interesting at the same time. I certainly make no pretense to being remotely as talented, imaginative, or learned as these four excellent historians, but they have nevertheless been formative for my own historical life. This book is therefore dedicated to them.