In recalling, iterating, reading, commenting, criticizing, discussing what was deposited in the remote or recent past, humans participate in extended horizons of meaning-production.1
In the early modern period, the Mozarabic rite became a special object of historical inquiry as well as a coveted publication. Scholars reached different understandings of the rite, depending on variables of method and access to sources. The study of the rite in the centuries following the publication of the Ortiz editions, which is the focus of this chapter, illustrates the construction of cultural memory described by Aleida Assmann as an iterative and cumulative process of meaning-production. Whether by publishing new editions, writing commentaries, or making transcriptions for study, scholars and users of the editions interpreted the rite, to borrow Assmannâs words, âdiscussing what was deposited in the remote or recent past.â
Most importantly for this book, it was through commentary on the rite that the ancient liturgy attained its greatest renown as a national symbol. Early modern liturgical erudition was never remote from politics. High-level diplomacy came into play for advancing research, and debates about saintsâ affiliations with the Iberian peninsula brought the texts of the Mozarabic rite to bear on local history as well as on the historiography of Christianity in Spain. The wider historical context for learned reception of the Mozarabic rite was the territorial expansion of the Crown and the emergence of global dominion under the Hispanic Monarchy (MonarquÃa Hispánica). As seen in chapter 4, among the early owners of the Ortiz editions of the Mozarabic rite were foreigners connected to the growth of the Spanish Empire. The definition of the Hispanic Monarchy as universal was consolidated by the Habsburgs and confirmed in the mid-eighteenth century with the triumph of Bourbon regalism. Contemporaneous with (and often in close proximity to) the theorization and implementation of the monarchy of Spain (MonarquÃa de España) were various responses to the rite that ranged from treatises to annotations on copies of the Ortiz editions.
This chapter addresses the long history of efforts to understand the rite as a published text and as the legacy of a communityâin both cases the rite always having been apprehended, as an object, through the filter of early modern print. I show the importance of the editions for liturgical research and follow the study of the rite through to its culmination in the Napoleonic era with the posthumous publication of Lorenzanaâs Missale Gothicum in Rome by the exiled Spanish Jesuit Faustino Arévalo.
As a philological project, the publication of the Mozarabic editions was effectively without precedent. Renaissance methods of textual and historical criticism had not yet been applied to liturgical texts in the manner that would become routine after the Council of Trent (1545â63) mandated changes in liturgical use. The commissions created after the council led to new editions of the Roman rite, beginning with the Breviarium Romanum (1568) and the Missale Romanum (1570) and continuing with more editions of these books as well as of the Roman martyrology. According to Simon Ditchfield, the study of liturgy as a scholarly disciplineâwhich I call liturgical eruditionâis âlargely the creation of the period 1550â1700,â the centuries which saw the emergence of a âconcern with understanding the individual elements of the liturgy via painstaking philological reconstruction of its textual tradition rather than in operation as a system of public worship.â2 Dioceses were allowed to maintain their rites if they could demonstrate that their own tradition went back more than two hundred years. Scholars examined the textual record for evidence of the historicity of saints and the antiquity of local liturgies. From this post-Tridentine requirement for historical proof emerged a renewed understanding of hagiography as a source for the writing of history.3 Indeed, while there had already been little or no perceived distinction between the genres of hagiography and history in the Middle Ages, textual scholarship in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries expanded the use of hagiography as a historical source.4 Ditchfield, Katrina Olds, Erin Rowe, and Katherine Van Liere have all illustrated the deployment of hagiography, history, and liturgy to undergird narratives about saints and the places where they were venerated.5
The Ortiz editions, having been published two generations before the Council of Trent began, represent in retrospect a precocious instance of a textual reconstruction that shored up a threatened local identity, foreshadowing some of the post-Tridentine developments described by Ditchfield. In the centuries after 1500, when the medieval manuscripts of the Old Hispanic rite were largely ignored and inaccessible, the editions came to the fore as physical representatives of the ancient rite. Differences between the editions and the medieval rite, intuited and sometimes confirmed by various scholars, inspired research that gradually yielded refinements in comparative method. Some scholars drew on the work of Ortiz to produce treatises or new editions that were, in effect, republications of the existing text with added commentary. Over the years, writers repeated, reassessed, or rebutted previous opinions in a cumulative process that culminated in the dense summation published in 1804 by the Spanish Jesuit Faustino Arévalo (1747â1824). From the confluence of print culture, contestations of local tradition, and philology colored by national identity came methodological advances that informed the erudite reception of the Mozarabic editions.
1 Annotations as a Sign of Use
Early modern study of the Mozarabic rite unfolded not only in the form of publications that built on the Ortiz editions but also in the responses of individuals to the editions. Scholarsâ understanding of the rite developed gradually, through consultation. As the book historian Bill Sherman has pointed out, the word âreadingâ does not adequately describe the full range of ways in which books were used in the early modern period.6 âUseâ is a more pertinent term for many of the interactions people had with the Mozarabic editions. Their users perused or consulted them not as they would have read literary texts; instead, they employed the editions more instrumentally, whether mining them for information or reconciling them with other sources. The most common evidence of use is the presence of annotations, which were added by different hands at various times. Many of the copies of the Ortiz editions described in chapter 4 bear written traces of reactions they elicited from their users. Of course, many of the annotations are readersâ marks, which are somewhat inscrutable, although likely to be significant. The copy of the Missale mixtum owned by Simeon Ashe contains an unusually large number of such marks, as discussed in chapter 4.7
Handwritten responses to the printed text represent efforts to understand the rite, as its texts form part of the history of use, reception, and liturgical erudition. Annotations added to copies of the Mozarabic editions emended faulty texts, corrected the dates of feasts or added new ones, and commented on the contents. Other users pointed out variant readings and mistakes in the printed text, and compared it with other editions (and, sometimes, with manuscripts). While the identities of the annotators are unknown, their script and the use of Castilian along with Latin suggest that the annotations were made in Spain in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries.8 Some of the annotations suggest a critical reading of the texts, while others are notes of a more practical nature, indicating the uses of the books in the liturgy.
Many annotations in copies of the Mozarabic Breviary concern its hymn texts, frequently with an emphasis on hymns by the Iberian poet Prudentius. In a copy now in Toledoâs Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, a sixteenth-century hand noted Prudentiusâs authorship of the hymn âBeate martyr prosperaâ for Saint Vincent of Saragossa and indicated that the errors in the edition should be corrected with reference to Prudentiusâs Liber Peristephanon.9 In the copy now in Blois, a hand of the seventeenth century intervened with numerous corrections to the text of âO Nazarene,â also from the Liber Cathemerinon.10 A later hand annotating the beginning of the same hymn specifically cites the emended text and commentary of Victor Giselin (1543â91) as the source to use for correction.11 Another copy of the Breviary, this one owned in the eighteenth century by the Mozarabic Parish Church of San Sebastián, contains added critical notes in Castilian, including corrections of prosody.12 Annotations could also refer to the musical performance of hymns. In many copies of the Breviary, later hands added the titles of the hymn melodies to which the hymn texts should be sung.13 While references such as âsung to the tune of [a certain hymn]â are common, here the practice is particularly salient for our study, for the melody most often indicated was the âPange lingua,â a hymn closely associated with early modern Spanish elites and their devotion to the Eucharist.14 In addition to remarks on the texts and melodies, annotations on hymns manifest the special attention that users of the Ortiz editions paid to the Iberian heritage of saints. A copy now in Madrid contains the added instruction to replace âO beate mundi auctor,â the hymn of the Roman rite that Ortiz assigned to a Hispanic saint, Cucufas, with the Old Hispanic hymn, âBarcinon lete Cucufate vernans,â which appears in several medieval manuscripts.15 The intention behind this annotation was to bring the contents of the Mozarabic Breviary closer to the medieval Mozarabic tradition.
The clearest evidence for annotatorsâ concern with the cult of the saints in the Mozarabic rite lies in the modifications of the calendar that comprise the majority of the annotations in most copies of the Mozarabic editions. Feasts were added and crossed out, or their dates corrected, sometimes with brief comments in Latin or Castilian. In many copies, later hands have added the sequential Arabic numerals for the days of the month in a column to the left of the Roman numerals in the calendar, which employed the Roman system of numbering days according to their distance in time from the kalends, nones, or ides of each month. Many annotations bring calendars into closer agreement with the Old Hispanic church year. Corrections made to the dates of feasts show the special care that users dedicated to scrutinizing calendars. For instance, the date of the Feast of Saint Mancius of Evora, corrected by an early modern hand from May 22 to May 21 in just one copy, shows close attention to detail; one wonders who kept track of the feast day of this legendary first bishop of Lisbon and Evora (and, according to some traditions, a disciple of Jesus), whose relics were thought to have been translated to Villanueva de San Mancio (Castile) in the thirteenth century.16
Often, later hands added new feasts that had been introduced after the editionsâ publication. There is little evidence to allow the precise dating of these annotations, although the general period in which they were written can be ascertained through comparison with dated documents. However, in many cases the chronology of the newly established feasts provides at least the date after which the addition must have been made. One of the dates frequently added to the calendars of the Mozarabic editions in the seventeenth century was March 1, the feast of the Guardian Angel, which was extended to the universal Church in 1608.17 This occasion had special meaning in Toledo, where it was established to commemorate the victory of Ferdinand of Aragon over Afonso V of Portugal at the Battle of Toro in 1476.18
The annotations in certain copies seem to reflect the historical context of their provenance. For instance, the Missale mixtum now in the National Library in Madrid (Madrid, BNE, R/7180), which contains an exceptional array of additions to the calendar, was given to the Royal Library in Madrid in 1792 by Francisco Pérez Bayer (1711â94), who had been that libraryâs prefect since 1783. The early provenance of this missal is not known; it presumably came from the large personal collection for which Pérez Bayer was known.19 He could have acquired the volume in Toledo, where he worked for the Royal Commission on the Archives in the early 1750s and became a canon of the cathedral in 1759. Pérez Bayerâs copy contains several unusual annotations that were entered by a small number of hands in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The additions point to liturgical considerations and sharp historical awareness of changes in the calendar of saints. The added feasts include that of the martyred Visigothic prince Hermenegild, who was canonized in 1585 by Sixtus V and was featured prominently in Jesuit drama of the seventeenth century.20 Also added to this copy is the annual commemoration of the translation of the relics of Saint Leocadia from Flanders to Toledo in 1587. Philip II himself presided over that translation, personally placing the relics in the cathedral in a public demonstration of the royal familyâs devotion.21 The inscription in the lower margin designates Leocadia as âour patronâ (she was a patron saint of a church in Toledo, and of the city of Toledo along with the seventh-century bishop Ildefonsus) and indicates the feastâs celebration on 26 April (Fig. 5.1, bottom left).
Figure 5.1
Calendar pages for April and May, Breviarium secundum regulam sancti Isidori, 1502, Madrid, BNE, R/7180, formerly property of Pérez Bayer
Photo: Biblioteca Nacional De España
More unusual is the addition of the feast of the royal saint King Ferdinand III of Spain, who was canonized in 1671 after a lengthy process that had begun in 1629 (Fig. 5.1, lower right).22 In 1671, the decision of Pope Clement X to extend veneration of the saint to all the territories ruled by the Hispanic Monarchy led to a variety of celebrations in which royal power was on display. Mariana of Austria (queen of Spain, 1649â65, and regent, 1665â75) sent official instructions for the festivities throughout Castile and to the court in Madrid as well as to individual cities such as Valladolid (including its cathedral chapter and its university), emphasizing that the canonization had occurred under her regency.23 From the late seventeenth century and throughout the eighteenth, the monarchy promoted devotion to Ferdinand III in Peru as well as in its other colonies.24 The name of Ferdinand VI (king of Spain, 1746â59) shows the importance of the cult for the Spanish Bourbons; it was in honor of the kingâs namesake that the Jesuit Andrés Marcos Burriel (1719â62) undertook extensive research for a revised biography of the royal saint while leading the Royal Commission on the Archives under Ferdinand VI.25 While annotations in Madrid, BNE, R/7180 are anonymous (like all others in the Ortiz editions), adding the feasts of Hermenegild, the Translation of Saint Leocadia, and Ferdinand III suggests that the annotatorâs perspective was informed by royal priorities.
Even rarer than these annotations to the calendar in the Madrid copy is the addition of the feast on October 22 of Saints Nunilo and Alodia, virgins who were born in Huesca to a Christian mother and a Muslim father. Because they had chosen Christianity over Islam, Nunilo and Alodia were executed as apostates in 851 under the caliph Abdal-Rabman II. Of particular importance in Huesca and Pamplona in northern Spain, this feast was added to the calendar of Toledo, BCT, FM-45 in the sixteenth century, presumably by a Mozarabic chaplain who was using the book. Nunilo and Alodia, like other Christian martyrs in the Muslim-ruled Iberian peninsula, held special significance for those who viewed the peninsulaâs history through the lens of Christian-Muslim conflict. Moreover, their origins and date of martyrdom were of interest to historians and hagiographers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.26
To summarize, some of the additions of saintsâ feasts in the Mozarabic editions relate directly to the political and religious history of the Spanish kingdoms, particularly the saints of the Iberian peninsula. Certain feasts that were emphasized by users of the editions held symbolic importance for the monarchy or had acquired particular meaning in collective perceptions of the past. Whether seen in isolation or as parts of patterns, such manual interventions on the editionsâ printed pages convey the importance of annotations as evidence for the early modern understandings of the rite.
2 Case Study: The Hymn for Saint Thyrsus
One particular text in the Mozarabic Breviary, the hymn for Saint Thyrsus, âExsulta nimium turba fidelium,â was the subject of a controversy that generated extensive commentary.
The debate, while idiosyncratic, reveals something of the stakes of studying the Mozarabic editions as well the scholarly uses of the editions. Verses from the hymn were deployed in the late sixteenth century to make claims that, while evidently false, were nonetheless carefully reviewed. Such close attention to the hymn as a historical source shows how much early modern erudition drew upon liturgical sources. In what follows, I synthesize what has already been written about this curious controversy and go further to adduce previously unpublished evidence.
Although Saint Thyrsus (or Tirsus, Castilian Tirso) was thought to have been from Bithynia (in modern-day Turkey), the Jesuit historian Jerónimo Roman de la Higuera (1538â1611) maintained that the saint was actually from Toledo but had been martyred in Greece, his relics subsequently returning to Toledo. Higuera is best known as the forger of what are commonly called the âfalse chronicles,â a collection of pseudohistorical accounts that he claimed to have discovered in manuscript form.27 He sought tenaciously to convince his contemporaries of his theories, which he got published in January 1595 in a pamphlet that took the form of an epistle addressed to Philip II.28 Although the purported author of the missive was Alonso de Cárcamo, corregidor of Toledo, the text advanced Higueraâs arguments and was apparently written by Higuera himself. Before publishing, Cárcamo had written to Philip II to gain the support of a monarch who was known for his interest in the cult of Iberian saints.29 Higuera, through his mouthpiece, Cárcamo, asserted the authenticity of a forged letter of Higueraâs ownâone that King Silo of Asturias (r. 774â783) had purportedly written to Archbishop Cixila of Toledo (d. 783). The epistle describe Cixilaâs efforts to build a church dedicated to Saint Thyrsus near the main mosque, resulting in a threat from cityâs Muslim ruler, who finally granted permission to complete the church in exchange for a tribute paid by the archbishop.30
In support of these startling claims, Higuera (in the person of Cárcamo) cited the hymn for Thyrsus in the Mozarabic Breviary. For the identification of Thyrsus as a native of Toledo, he adduced a single verse of the hymn: âTe martir lachrimis vernule poscimus.â31 The full stanza, followed by a Castilian translation, appears on the first page of the epistle to the king, identified as a âGothic [i.e., Visigothic] hymn.â Higuera went even further out on a limb by buttressing his argument with just one word from that verse, vernule, which he interpreted as a direct address to the saint (construing the form of the noun as the vocative case) and translated as ânativeâ (natural in Castilian).32 Since in other texts Saint Leocadia, the cityâs patron saintâwho was from Toledoâwas described as vernula, Higuera argued that the use of the word in the hymn for Thyrsus must identify that saint, too, as a native of the city. As we will see, the Achilles heel of Higueraâs logic (besides the obvious falsity of the claim) is that, in Latin, words with different grammatical functions and thus different meanings can all be spelled identically. Although a prolific writer, Higuera was more of an aspiring historian than a skilled Latinist.
Higuera cited another verse of the same hymn text in support of the equally fanciful assertion that a ruined building in Toledo had once been a church dedicated to Saint Thyrsus, built at the order of Cixila, an archbishop of Toledo in the late eighth century.33 In the version of the hymn published in the Mozarabic Breviary of Ortiz, the penultimate strophe refers to a church built by Cixila, but neither of the extant medieval manuscripts of the hymn contain this passage.34 The statement that âCixila founded this churchâ has no obvious connection to the rest of the hymn or to Saint Thyrsus, so the inclusion of the name of Cixila has led some of the textâs editors to ascribe the hymnâs authorship to that archbishop.35 The passage might have been inserted into the text later in the Middle Ages (in a manuscript now lost). It could have been interpolated by Ortiz (who, as we saw in chapter 1, included in the Missale mixtum his own compositions for a Mass of the Virgin Mary) to endow the text with an early medieval Toledan reference. Admittedly, the two medieval manuscripts that transmit the hymn have slightly different final strophes, but these rather conventional doxology strophes express praise in a formulaic manner that could vary from manuscript to manuscript. The strophe honoring Cixila appears to function somewhat as an additional doxology. Nonetheless, its superfluity makes it stick out as an extraneous element. The remainder of the hymn stays close to the hagiographic narrative of the saintâs martyrdom. In sum, there is no known medieval evidence for the identification of the church in the hymn or for the ruin in Toledo as dedicated to Thyrsus. It is no wonder that Higuera seized on this rare allusion to local historyâin the printed Mozarabic Breviaryâas the basis for his identification of the ruins as a church of Saint Thyrsus.
The ecclesiastical establishment reacted swiftly to Higueraâs confabulations. In March 1595, Pedro Salazar de Mendoza (1549â1629), a learned canon of Toledo Cathedral, published a response refuting Higueraâs interpretation of the hymn verse. Salazar correctly construed vernule as the feminine nominative plural vernulae (ânativesâ) supplying the subject of the verb poscimus (âwe supplicateâ).36 Several letters exchanged among ecclesiastical officials in the same period express disbelief at Higueraâs claims concerning Thyrsus and Cixila.37 In the copy of the pamphlet in the library of Toledo Cathedral (and still there today), the librarian Christoval Palomares wrote a lengthy annotation debunking the claims, describing Higuera obliquely as a âcertain man of religion, who, tempted by the devilâ (cierto religioso que tentado del demonio) invented the letter from Silo to Cixila and all the rest.38 News of the scandal traveled all the way up the hierarchy of the Jesuit order.39
Annotations in copies of the Mozarabic Breviary preserved in Toledo show that the volumesâ users were well aware of Higueraâs fraudulent claims and their reception. Even the underlining of the word vernule, seen in two copies, suggests awareness of the controversy that the term elicited in this hymn.40 An annotation signaling the fact that Higueraâs misinterpretations made the hymn text problematic appears in a copy formerly owned by the Mozarabic Parish of San Sebastián. The remarkââThis stanza has to be removedââwas added next to the verses mentioning the church built by Cixila.41 Most likely, the annotator considered the strophe inauthentic, which it may well be.
A hand of the early seventeenth century added several particularly interesting annotations to the hymn in one of the copies of the Mozarabic Breviary that remain in the chapter library in Toledo.42 On the left side of the opening shown in figure 5.2, the marginal notes below the left column state that Thyrsus was martyred in Nicomedia when Cumbricius was the governor and Bauclus the mayor. The note also mentions Leucius, martyred soon after Thyrsus.43 In the lower right margin of the same verso page, a different hand identifies a âSmaragdineâ book (libro smaragdino) in the library of Toledo Cathedral as a source in which to seek an explanation of the hymn. The annotator cites this book again in the upper right margin of the facing recto page (Fig. 5.2, upper right).44 The âSmaragdine bookâ is a thirteenth-century manuscript passionary that is still preserved in the archive.45 Presumably because Saint Thyrsus was a subject of interest in Toledo in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century, scholars there consulted both the passionary and the Mozarabic Breviary, annotating the texts they contained about Saint Thyrsus. (As we will see later in this chapter, the passionary was an important source also in the eighteenth century, for the Jesuit scholars Pinius and Burriel, who transcribed and analyzed its texts.)
Figure 5.2
Annotations concerning Saint Thyrsus, Breviarium secundum regulam sancti Isidori, 1502, Toledo, BCT, FM-1, fols 343vâ344r
Photo: Toledo Cathedral Archive and Library
The hymn for Saint Thyrsus draws some of its phrases from the prose narrative of the saintâs martyrdom that appeared in the passionary. The annotator of the Mozarabic breviary we have seen must have compared the hymn published by Ortiz to a section of the passion account on which the hymn text was based, for he wrote an excerpt from the passion in the upper margin of the recto (Fig. 5.2, right). As a result, the portions of the text that were cut off when the book was later trimmed can now be supplied from the passion account: âSiluanus dixit: âCapacem gastrum adferte et aqua eum implete. Tirsum autem capite deorsum in eodem artate.ââ¯â46 Consulting the text of the passionary, the annotator also corrected the spelling gustrum in the printed hymn text, which is an erroneous reading (presumably by Ortiz) of the word gastrum. In any manuscript in Visigothic script that Ortiz could have consulted, the word gastrum could easily be mistaken for gustrum, because the lower-case âaâ in the Visigothic script is open at the top.47 The annotator of Toledo FM-1 knew the correct spelling of the word, however, because it comes directly from the account of the saintâs martyrdom in the medieval passionary in Toledo Cathedralâs library, which he evidently consulted. Furthermore, since gastrum is an extremely rare term for a wide-mouthed jar, the annotator also added a brief definition of the word in the left margin of fol. 344r. These annotations enable us to observe the process of an early seventeenth-century reader in Toledo Cathedral consulting medieval sources while studying the hymn.
The controversy around the hymn for Saint Thyrsus was so well known that it influenced the transcription of the text by MartÃn Vázquez Siruela (1600â64), who produced a two-volume annotated partial copy of the Mozarabic Breviary owned by the Parish Church of San Marcos in Toledo.48 In the early modern period, transcribing texts was a common mode of study, and transcriptions were an important part of research on the Mozarabic rite. While in Madrid from 1642 to 1647, teaching the son of the Marqués del Carpio (Luis de Haro y de Guzmán), Vázquez Siruela became a friend of Nicolás Antonio (1617â84), a scholar famous for his rebuttal of the false chronicles in the Censura de historias fabulosas. Bound in Vázquez Siruelaâs copy are letters from Antonio, including a transcription of the Office of the Forty Martyrs from the Mozarabic Breviary.49 Given this evidence of exchange with Antonio about the Mozarabic rite, it is likely that Vázquez Siruela, while copying the Breviary, chose to transcribe the hymn for Saint Thyrsus as one of the excerpts from the Breviary because he had learnedâpresumably from Antonio himselfâof the scandal caused by Higuera generations earlier. In two chapters of the Censura, Antonio summarizes the texts that gave rise to the debate and includes the entirety of the letters rebutting Higuera and Cárcamo.50
The larger point to underscore here is that the controversy about the origins of Saint Thyrsus and the church mentioned in the hymn illustrates how early modern historians might use a text from the Mozarabic Breviary. Verses from the hymn were disingenuously pressed into service for a local mythmaking enterprise, and the ensuing debate remained widely known even long after its specious claims had been rebutted. Scholars also used the texts of the Mozarabic rite to buttress historical argumentsâreading and interpretation which the editions made possible.
3 A Failed Experiment: Spain in Pierre Le Brunâs Liturgical Survey
Spanish scholars and antiquarians were in their native environment when studying the Mozarabic rite, and at times we find them invoking its texts to support claims concerning the Spanish nation. Such uses of the rite in the service of a kind of religious nationalism provide an instructive contrast with the case of Pierre Le Brun (1661â1729).51 Le Brun was a French priest in the congregation of the Oratory who endeavored to study the medieval Hispanic liturgy from the position of an outsider to its ritual and political context. His research methods can be compared to those of later historians of the liturgy. Unlike them, however, he did not have direct access to early manuscript sources. Despite his efforts to leverage the highest levels of society and government to obtain medieval manuscripts from Spain, in the end his knowledge of the Mozarabic rite was conditioned by the Ortiz editions. Studied here for the first time, the story of his attempts sheds light on the historical setting of the larger scholarly enterprise.52
Le Brun gained renown in the early eighteenth century as an authority on the Catholic liturgy thanks to the publication of scholarly writings that remain widely read today.53 He established his reputation by publishing the Explication littérale historique et dogmatique des prières et des cérémonies de la Messe, which appeared in four volumes between 1716 and 1726 and was a major (and much reprinted) contribution to the centuries-long tradition of commentary on the liturgy.54 His research unfolded in a fraught moment of social upheaval. The Edict of Nantes, issued in 1598 by Henry IV, had proclaimed tolerance of Protestantism in France, bringing to an end the French Wars of Religion. After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV in 1685, French Protestants had to convert to Catholicism or leave France. The decades that followed saw a proliferation of publications on Catholic dogma and liturgy, some of them voicing arguments in polemical debates between Protestant and Catholic writers.
It was in this new pastoral environment that Le Brun published his Explication while at the same time delving into comparisons of customs in ecclesiastical provinces, mostly within Franceâs borders but also more remote. He invented an innovative method of scholarshipâin effect, an early form of crowdsourcingâto gather data on liturgical practices in France and ultimately in Germany, Italy, Spain, and the Christian East. Le Brun based his survey on responses from far-flung correspondents to a questionnaire of his devising. The scale of the survey was unprecedented in that it was not limited to a controlled population. Its first version, from around 1714, asks questions about observances in certain aspects of church services. Framing the twenty-seven brief questions are introductory and concluding statements emphasizing that the questionnaireâs aim was to determine which current usages in French churches differed from the Roman rite.55
Concurrently, by means of published requests, Le Brun solicited data taken from historical sources of the liturgy, especially from manuscripts. His questionnaire appeared in periodicals such as the respected academic journal Journal des sçavans whose readers Le Brun apparently assumed would be erudite laypeople, but the responses came from ecclesiastics.56 The questionnaireâs second version, first published in 1716 at the conclusion of the first volume of the Explication, consists of 110 questions. As Xavier Bisaro has observed, the longer questionnaire combines into a single document the aims of the previous calls for submissions. It begins by explaining the goals and outline of the work, then requests information about manuscripts of various liturgical centers (or transcriptions of excerpts, if the manuscripts were situated far from Paris), followed by the questions about the elements of services. At the end of the questionnaire is a response template along with Le Brunâs address at St Magloire in Paris.57
Le Brunâs ambitious project led ultimately to his Dissertations historiques et dogmatiques sur les liturgies de toutes les églises du monde chrétien, a series of treatises included in volumes 2 and 3 of the 1726 edition of the Explication. While not all of the treatises were equally based on original research, in the aggregate the Dissertations were a pathbreaking comparison of Catholic rites. The treatise on the liturgies of Spain must have been of particularly great interest, given how little was known about the history of the Mozarabic rite in the early eighteenth century. In one of his letters, Le Brun himself refers to impatient readers and the need for comparative material from Spain:
People are pressing me to publish as soon as possible the volume of treatises in which I should speak of the Mozarabic rite, and for that all I need is one of the manuscript missals of the churches of Spain that were still in use in the twelfth century, or at least I need someone to be so kind as to collate one of these manuscripts with the Mozarabic missal that Cardinal Cisneros had printed in 1500 and which is still used in the chapel in Toledo. We have this missal in Paris and I would like to know exactly what more or less there is in the manuscripts, because it seems to me that Cardinal Cisneros made changes that could render the rest suspect.58
Le Brunâs dissertation on the liturgy of the churches of Spain forms part of the second volume of the Explication. The treatise begins with the kind of general background on the Hispanic rite that had been published in earlier works of ecclesiastical history, then enumerates in detail the aspects of the Mozarabic Missal that seemed to Le Brun more Roman than Visigothic or Mozarabic.59 (His extensive notes on the Mozarabic Breviary were not included.) In the Dissertation Le Brun observed the correspondence between the Palm Sunday and Easter Triduum rubrics in the Mozarabic Missal and the Roman-rite missal of Toledo Cathedral (printed in 1550), concluding that
there are things in the printed Mozarabic missal that were very recent at the time of Cardinal Ximenez; and there are others that were already rather ancient, but do not come from the Mozarabic missal, or from the ancient rite of the churches of Spain.60
This observation sums up his critical assessment of the printed editions as a combination of different liturgical traditions. Before a final section comparing the Mozarabic rite to the ancient Gallican rite, Le Brun summarized his findings on the former, describing the variegated layers embedded in the Missale mixtum. He acknowledged the appreciable merit of Cisneros in preserving many mass formularies of the Old Hispanic rite, but pointed out that
From all that we have just seen, one must infer that in the printed Mozarabic Missal are inserted practices and rubrics that were not in the ancient Gothic Rite and were taken from the Roman-Gallican Missal of Toledo; [this was] doubtless because [the editors] did not know all the particulars of the ancient Gothic Rite, which was no longer celebrated in any church at the time of Cardinal Ximenez. Therefore, one cannot cite as Mozarabic all of what some Authors have taken from the Ordo Missae of the [printed] Missal, nor the Ordo for Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, or Holy Saturday, which Father Martène included in his De antiqua Ecclesiae disciplina, because nearly all the Rubrics for these days are obviously taken from the Toledo Missal, which at the time of Cardinal Ximenez was justifiably called the Missale mixtum. In fact, it was not purely Roman; elements of the Gothic Rite had been inserted into it, and it was certainly blended with several practices which (as we stated) came from Churches in France. One example is the ceremony of closing the Church at the Procession of Palms and not opening it until the Priest knocks on the door several times with the Cross, asking that it be opened to the King of glory. Such spectacles were introduced around the year 1000 in some Churches in France, and at that time were neither in the Roman Missal, nor in the Mozarabic Missal.61
The Missale mixtum cited here does not refer to the Mozarabic edition of the same name, but rather to the missal of the Church of Toledo (entitled Missale mixtum alme ecclesie toletane) printed there in 1499 by Hagembach. The use of Toledo Cathedral combines some elements inherited from the Hispanic rite with the Roman rite established in the cathedral after 1085, largely by clerics from France, whence the descriptor âRoman-Gallican.â By âGothicâ Le Brun meant, of course, the early-medieval Visigothic rite of the Iberian peninsula. Rendering the term in literal translation conveys the notion, shared by his contemporaries, of a broader Gothic cultural substrate underlying the Old Hispanic rite. Hybridity thus defined both the Roman rite of Toledo and the Mozarabic editions of Ortiz. Recognizing the mixing of ancient and modern traditions in the Mozarabic editions, Le Brun sought to differentiate the early substrate from the later (Roman-rite) elements that were interpolated in the editions.
Le Brunâs unpublished notes give more insight into his study of the Mozarabic rite than his published treatise.62 His excerpts from the Mozarabic Missal, and remarks in his letters, show that he had access to a copy of the Ortiz edition as early as 1692.63 One of his marginal annotations on his later transcription of the calendar from the Missal quotes verbatim a passage (attributed to the eleventh-century bishop Guitmundus of Aversa) that attributes the texts of the Mozarabic Missal to Isidore of Seville. Le Brun could have encountered this attribution in two sources, both of which were presumably available to him: the early modern compilation Bibliotheca patrum and Nicolás Antonioâs Bibliotheca Hispana vetus.64
If Le Brunâs unpublished notes offer insight into his sources and intellectual milieu, his unpublished correspondence reveals the reasons his efforts to gather data on the liturgy in Spain ultimately failed. He was unable to obtain a manuscript version of the Mozarabic Missal in France or to acquire one from Spain.65 Thus, he lacked material for his study the Mozarabic rite, and had to rely on a copy of the edition in Paris.
At first, Le Brun had found a willing collaborator in Desserre, an Oratorian living in Spain with whom he corresponded beginning in 1714. But in the end this connection did not deliver on its initial promise. A letter of 1720 from Desserre to Le Brun illustrates the difficulties facing the enterprise of their collaboration. Desserre wrote that he could not get hold of the Mozarabic Missal or Breviary in any form, neither an original nor a copy (âni original ni copieâ), even though he had written to someone of influence at the court of the regent, Philip of Orléans. He also expressed gratitude to another person from that world, the Duc de Noailles. Adrien-Maurice de Noailles (1678â1766) was an important military man who had fought in the war of Spanish succession (1710â13) and had been president of the French Royal Finance Council from 1715 to 1718. The duke continued to distinguish himself in the service of the crown, going on to be named a marshal of France in 1734 and serving as foreign minister in the second half of 1744. As with many of his contemporaries, in de Noailles military prowess and diplomacy combined with an interest in rare books. He owned the trouvère âchansonnier de Noaillesâ (Paris, BnF, fr. 12615) before it entered the Bibliothèque royale in 1740, for example. In 1746, two decades after the epistolary exchange between Desserre and Le Brun, the duke (now the Maréchal de Noailles) made a request that brings to mind Le Brunâs efforts: he asked the Spanish diplomat Blas Jover y Alcázar to help him gain access to early Iberian liturgical manuscripts.66 The involvement of career diplomats in various attempts to obtain manuscripts of the Old Hispanic rite illustrates the intertwining of diplomatic networks with the Republic of Letters. As Alexandre Tessier points out, both milieux were international and both were structured by epistolary exchanges.67
Despite assistance from people such as the Duc de Noailles, Desserre reported that he had made little progress. He explained that the Mozarabic rite was also celebrated in the Chapel of Talavera in the Cathedral of Salamanca, but the service books were quite damaged and difficult to read. He had offered to get them printed and to compare and correct them, if only he were allowed to make a copy, but his request was refused in Toledo and Salamanca alike. He feared that the books would disintegrate beyond recognition if the king of Spain did not use his authority to prevent such a loss. Lastly, Desserre promised to seek out older missals and report to Le Brun if they differed from more recent ones.68
The final portion of Desserreâs 1720 letter conveys the sense of reciprocal obligation that must have been common among those who received Le Brunâs liturgical questionnaires. Here, Desserre asked his fellow Oratorian to use his own influence and his network to help a friend extricate himself from a trial (un procès) in Spain.69 Desserre mentioned that the person in question had gone to see Le Brun the previous year. Such visits and exchanges were elemental to all diplomatic processes, including those involving ecclesiastical trials conducted according to canon law.
Social, political, and intellectual relationships were so closely bound with the institutional connections among the clergy that Le Brunâs liturgical investigation was inextricable from the clientelism of his network. That both he and Desserre alluded to the possibility of royal intervention in their pursuit of liturgical manuscripts underlines the symbolic capital of the liturgy in an era of cultural nationalism. Le Brun, while applying innovative methods to the comparative study of liturgical history, understood that ancient manuscripts held a certain prestige in diplomatic channels.
Le Brunâs letters attest to the requests and questions that he sent repeatedly to correspondents in Spain, with little or no response. He asked for manuscripts or at least transcriptions from Toledo and was told that the manuscripts were lacunary and could not be deciphered. (Decades later, scholars both Spanish and foreign would receive similar replies.) Frustrated by the lack of cooperation from his contacts, Le Brun opined that in order to save the manuscripts it would be necessary to call upon royal authorityâpresumably alluding to the fact that the reigning king of Spain, Philip V (1683â1746), was the grandson of Louis XIV. The period in which members of the ruling elite assisted in Le Brunâs research was shaped by the division of power between the Bourbon ruling families of Spain and France. In the Treaty of Utrecht, which had ended the War of Spanish Succession in 1713, Philip V, king of France, renounced his rights to the French throne. The future French kings Louis XV (1710â74) and Philip of Orleans (1674â1723), who would become regent on the death of Louis XIV in 1715, renounced their rights to the Spanish throne. The diplomatic effects of this peace agreement can be glimpsed in the letter Le Brun wrote to Desserre around 1725, alluding to the improvement in relations between France and Spain (âif the alliance between France and Spain is renewed more than ever, as one currently believesâ) and asking once again for help in obtaining manuscriptsâor for Desserre to cull data from manuscripts on his behalf.70
It was in the context of Franco-Spanish détente that Le Brun sought to obtain a response to his missive by offering the assistance of Jean-Baptiste Robin (1664â174?), who delivered the letter while in Spain for a round of negotiations. Allusions to Robin are frequent in Le Brunâs correspondence; he was one of the most important agents in the Oratorianâs efforts to gather information on the liturgy in Spain. The son of a merchant banker in Metz, Robin was one of many commoners in eighteenth-century France who entered into diplomatic service and acquired noble rank as recompense for service to the state. From 1720 to 1725, Robin held the post of general agent of the Navy and Commerce of France. In 1721, in recognition of his successful negotiation of the marriage contract between the Spanish infanta and Louis XV, Robin was granted the title of Count of Castille and Comte de Robin and de Saint-Challier. Robinâs noble status and titles, which would be passed on to his issue, were confirmed by lettres patentes of Louis XV in 1722.71 The elevation of Robin to the ranks of the nobility is mentioned specifically in Le Brunâs 5 July 1724 letter to Desserre: âHe is now Monsieur le Comte de Robin de Saint-Challier, Count of Castille, recognized not only in Spain, but by the patents of the King of France registered in Parliament and highly esteemed by all.â72 Le Brun asked Desserre to confer with Robin so as to purchase medieval liturgical manuscripts, which the Duc de Noailles would gladly buy.73 Le Brun mentioned that the Comte de Robin and others close to the court were also ready to pay for early printed books. He suggested that the count could ask the king of France to intervene with the king of Spain so that the early manuscripts would not be lost or destroyed.74
In his response, Desserre described a previous effort to obtain a Mozarabic missal and breviary for the regent Philip of Orléans, who âdid not want it to appear that these books were being sought out for the library or at his orderâ (ne voulut pas quâil parut quâon les recherchoit pour la bibliothèque ou par son ordre). This passing remark hints intriguingly at unspecified connotations coloring the acquisition of the Mozarabic editions by royalty. Could such a purchase have been seen as a French encroachment upon Spanish patrimony at a sensitive moment in the relations between the two nations?
Desserreâs letter continues:
I did everything I could to ask for some transcriptions, and even that was refused; they wrote me from Toledo that these books were defective in some places and that there were others they could not read, I offered to have them copied at my own expense and offered to engage all the scholars to reconstruct these passages and endeavor to decipher what they considered illegible, but my letters received no response, so I think that without royal authority these books will be completely lost.75
The lengthy description of efforts made in vain might have been intended to justify the lapse of time between the letter from Le Brun of July 1724 and Desserreâs belated response, which seems to have been written sometime in the winter of 1724â25.76 Desserre also states in this letter his plans to work on the translation of Le Brunâs Explication de la Messe before the arrival of extreme heat in July, suggesting that he wrote early in 1725. In his final letter to Desserre, penned on 2Â August 1726, Le Brun incredulously admitted defeat while repeating his request for materials to be sent to him. He had received no news of Desserre (or of Desserreâs friend, whom Le Brun had helped) in at least a year, but he had heard indirectly that the Spanish translation of the Explication would not be published after all.77 In the end, then, despite political connections and dogged efforts to promote his work in Spain, Le Brun was unable to obtain more information on medieval Iberian liturgy than he had at his disposal in Paris.
4 Piniusâs Research in Toledo
Given his disappointment, it seems all the more unfortunate that Le Brun did not know that the Bollandist Pinius (Jean Pien, 1678â1749) was in Toledo carrying out research for the Acta sanctorum in 1721â22, precisely the years in which the Le Brun sought to cultivate more contacts in Spain. The two worked in entirely different institutional settings: while Le Brun drew on French diplomatic networks, Pinius was on a mission for his religious foundation. Despite these differences, Pinius would have been the ideal correspondent for the French Oratorian. In 1729, the year of Le Brunâs death, Pinius published a treatise on the early Hispanic rite with a title pithily combining all the names by which the rite was known: Mozarabic Liturgy: Historical-Chronological Treatise on the Ancient Hispanic, Gothic, Isidorian, Mozarabic, Toledan, Mixed Liturgy.78 The tractate was widely known in the eighteenth century, even outside of ecclesiastical circles. One copy was in the famous library of the Marquis de Paulmy, who remarked in his catalogue that he had copies of the original Mozarabic Missal and Breviary and that the Pinius edition was useful for its notes.79
Piniusâs volume formed part of the context for the lives of the saints published in critical editions by the Bollandists, and was presented as a preliminary study to the sixth volume of July saints in the Acta sanctorum. Pinius offered a concise description of the liturgical manuscripts in Toledo Cathedral written in Visigothic script, but noted that his list was based on the account provided by the rector of the Mozarabic Church of San Sebastián, Pedro Camino Velasco.80 Judging from his own account of his research in Toledo, Pinius seems not to have consulted any of the liturgical manuscripts in Visigothic script, either because they were considered too precious for viewing by scholars or because he was unable to read them.81 Indeed, few in Piniusâs lifetime could read Visigothic script; it had been omitted from the best-known paleography manual, Mabillonâs De re diplomatica, and manuscript examples were largely unavailable for consultation.82 The scriptâs reputed indecipherability must have been part of the reason for the statementâfrequent in the early modern periodâthat the medieval Mozarabic liturgical manuscripts were illegible. Pinius did, however, consult other medieval manuscripts in Toledo Cathedral. He produced a transcription of the Latin narrative of Speratusâs martyrdom from a passionary written in an early Gothic script of a kind that he could easily read.83 Thirty years later, Andrés Marcos Burriel would have the same passionary transcribed in its entirety so he could study saints venerated in medieval Toledo (see below).84
Piniusâs treatise on the Mozarabic liturgy exemplifies the methods of liturgical erudition practiced at a time when manuscript study and historical arguments applied to hagiography often had implications for questions of national identity. A prime example is the Feast of Saint Speratus and His Eleven Companions, a group of early Christians arrested in Roman North Africa in the second century and executed in Carthage on 17Â July 180.85 One frequently encountered name for this group is the Scillitan martyrs, in reference to a place name (otherwise unattested) that is mentioned in early documents as the site of a church dedicated to them.86 The two dates on which the Scillitan martyrs were commemorated in Spain differed from the date of their martyrdom recorded in early sources. In the introduction to the text of the martyrsâ passion in the Acta sanctorum, Pinius speculated on possible reasons for the divergence:
I think that the relics of the martyrs Saint Speratus and his Companions translated from Africa to Spain gave rise to this solemn cult of the Mozarabs [â¦] those Martyrs are commemorated by the Mozarabs not on their day of martyrdom, but on 21 July in the Breviary, and on 16 November in the Missal, which are perhaps days when [the Mozarabs] received their relics, or when they set them out to be venerated publicly by the people.87
In short, Pinius thought that historical events explained why the Mozarabs celebrated the Feast of Saint Speratus on dates that were not customary in other churches.
The multiple dates for the Feast of the Scillitan Martyrs in Spanish ecclesiastical tradition seem to have generated debate, giving rise to numerous annotations in extant copies of the Mozarabic editions. In many copies of the Breviary and Missal, the feast is crossed out on November 16 with a note indicating that it belongs on 21 July.88 In two copies of the Breviary, however, annotations instead affirm that the feast should be celebrated on November 16.89
Not only the date but also the place of the martyrdom was a fraught topicâin Spain. Against all the early evidence, some Spanish historians asserted that Speratus had been martyred not in Carthage, in North Africa, but rather in the city of Cartagena, on Spainâs south coast. In the early modern period, this minority opinion found a prominent advocate in Juan Tamayo de Salazar (d. 1662), a lay historian in the employ of the church who held tenaciously onto the various fictions that had circulated as authentic accounts of the history of Spain. In the 1650s, Tamayo published a six-volume martyrology of Spanish saints in which he famously inserted corrupted texts and presented invented statements as if they were historical facts.90 Tamayo was an opponent of Nicolás Antonio, who had debunked the false histories in his posthumously published Censura de historias fabulosas. Antonioâs book had circulated in manuscript long before it was published in 1742. Indeed, Pinius himself wrote that in Madrid, in 1721, he had received a manuscript of Nicolás Antonioâs as yet unpublished Censura, which noted that the Scillitan martyrs were obviously from Carthage.91
As in several other controversies concerning the saints, the star witness concerning the location of Speratusâs martyrdom was a liturgical textâin this case, the hymn in the Mozarabic Breviary of 1502, which stated that âCarthage, the renowned city of Africa, preserves this martyrâ (Hunc urbs prepollens africe cartago seruat martyrem). Baronio, in his notes on the Roman martyrology, cited this verse contra those who asserted (âthey hallucinate,â he wrote) that the martyrs had perished in Cartagena rather than Carthage.92 Baronioâs comment called out an excess of national pride as the cause of the spurious localization.
Antonio had cited the same verse at the beginning of his disquisition on the origin of the Scillitan martyrs. Before turning to the hymn in earnest, however, he adduced other texts of the early Middle Ages that allude to Saint Speratus in Africa, noting, however, that recently several historians had mistakenly placed the martyrdom in Cartagena. One of the worst offenders was Dexter, the purported author of the above-mentioned false chronicles (an apocryphal figure invented by their forger, Jerónimo Roman de la Higuera). Antonio cited other examples of names similarly manipulated in order to claim saints for Spain, and contended that Tamayo was taken in by all these tendentious assertions because he believed them to be supported by Dexterâs chronicle.93 Having established Tamayoâs gullibility, Antonio revealed his falsification of the hymn text, line by line. For instance, Tamayo had transcribed one line as âHere, his tomb blossoms with glorious virtuesâ (Floret eximiis eius hic tumulus virtutibus), whereas in the Breviary it reads âHis tomb blossoms with glorious virtuesâ (Floret eiusdem tumulus eximiis virtutibus) without the âhere,â a small but highly significant difference, as we will see shortly. After going through the specific grammatical and historical reasons for rejecting Tamayoâs forced interpretations, Antonio concluded that hymnâs meaning was clear and that the cult of Speratus and companions must have arrived in Spain from the martyrsâ original resting place in Africa. He wondered about the existence of the two dates for their feast (one being the November date in the Mozarabic Missal, we recall, the other the July date in the Breviary), both observed in the Mozarabic rite but not in the Roman rite.
Building on Antonioâs Censura, Pinius reviewed and liberally quoted the writings of previous authors in his own introduction to the publication of the acta of the Scillitan martyrs in the Acta sanctorum. Pinius rebutted Tamayoâs arguments point by point, with the hymn text as prime evidence. The Jesuit recounted how he had studied the hymn in Toledo in 1722 using the 1502 Mozarabic Breviary, which he described as the âunique and still rare edition of this breviary, which cannot be obtained at any cost, and indeed could barely be providedâ (ex editione unica & admodum rara hujus Breviarii, quod nulla ratione obtineri, imo vix commodari potuit).94 Echoing Antonio, Pinius summarized the opinions of early modern writers according to whom Speratus had been martyred in Spain and later translated to North Africa. He decried the credulity of authors who followed one anotherâs misinterpretations blindly, like sheep (ovium more [â¦] invicem caece secuti), and observed that Tamayo had manipulated the text simply by modifying it slightly. Tamayoâs claim that the hymn referred to the tomb of the saints as being located âhereâ (hic), meaning in Spain, was based on a disingenuous misreading. The first occurrence of the word would be translated as âHere, with the sacred companionsâ (Hic sacris cum sodalibus). However, as Pinius noted, the word that appears in the 1502 Breviary is not hic at all but rather his, âthese,â so the phrase means âwith these sacred companionsâ (His sacris cum sodalibus) and does not contain any spatial reference.95 Similarly, while Tamayo referred to a second occurrence of the word hic in the phrase âhic dictisâ (with the things said here), in the printed breviary the phrase actually reads his dictis, an ablative absolute formation that translates as âthese things having been saidâ or âafter these things were said.â In other words, Tamayoâs arguments for the use of the word âhereâ in the hymn were nothing more than wishful thinking.
While the word hic does appear in these lines in an eleventh-century manuscript from San Millán de la Cogolla (now in the British Library),96 it is unlikely that Tamayo, in the seventeenth century, had consulted the version of the hymn in the manuscript, which at that time was little known. Even if Tamayo had seen the manuscript, interpreting hic as referring to Cartagena in Spain contravenes the evident sense of the text, which refers specifically to Africa earlier in the hymn. Pinius considered Tamayoâs corruption of the text in the Breviary an intentional deformationâa misplaced expression of national prideâand pointed out that there was no need to distort the written record, as Spain did not lack martyrs of its own.
A quarter-century later, the Spanish Jesuit Andrés Marcos Burriel would also weigh in on Tamayoâs misrepresentation of the text. Burriel had a transcription made of the medieval passionary that contained the account of Speratusâs martyrdom,97 and wrote an annotated table of contents summarizing the state of the question on each text. For the passion of Saints Speratus and companions, Burriel pointed out that the acta printed by Tamayo conflicted in their contents with the historic texts of the acts of the martyrs, which were recorded in an official document that seemed to have been written by notaries.98 Burriel noted that Tamayo (contra Baronio) had localized the martyrdom to Cartagena even while adducing as evidence the same hymn verses cited by Baronio: âHunc urbs praepollens Africa / Carthago servat martyrem.â The question of why the Feast of Speratus and Companions had two different dates remained unanswered because the debate about the saints hinged entirely on interpretation of the hymn verse.
The central place of a hymn from the printed Mozarabic Breviary in two centuries of debate over the facts about the location of Speratusâs martyrdom shows how crucial the Ortiz editions were in early modern discussions of the Mozarabic rite and of the saintsâ legends that formed part of Spanish religious culture. It was due to the editionsâ existence that Tamayo could cite the text (albeit incorrectly), that Antonio could refute Tamayoâs interpretation, and that Pinius could, in turn, reveal Tamayoâs error. The edited text represented an authority that could be taken at face value or subverted, depending on the aims of the commentator. But while uses of this hymn oscillated wildly between history and philology, all derived ultimately from the neo-Mozarabic version confected by Ortiz.
Historical arguments in the eighteenth century concerning the Old Hispanic rite were based largely on the comparison of editions. Analysis of the Old Hispanic rite focused on similarities and differences between the early Gallican rite (as edited by Mabillon),99 the Visigothic orationale from around 700 (preserved in the Biblioteca Capitolare, in Verona), and the Ortiz edition of the Mozarabic Missal. The orationale, which is the earliest extant manuscript of the Old Hispanic rite, may have originated in the northwest of the Iberian peninsula or in the area of Narbonne.100 The Italian Oratorian priest Giuseppe Bianchini (1704â64) relied primarily on printed editions of early liturgical texts for his critical notes on the Old Hispanic orationale preserved in Verona. He observed that texts in the orationale drew from the book of Revelations for texts from Easter to Ascension, texts seen also in the early Gallican lectionary of Luxueil (Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, lat. 9427, c.700) and in the printed Mozarabic Missal.101 The use of Revelations in Paschal time was noted equally by Le Brun in the Mozarabic Missal.102
Since 1500, historians have seen the Mozarabic editionsâwhich were based on manuscripts in Toledoâas reflecting substantially the same early substrate as the orationale, assuming continuity in the Old Hispanic rite from the Visigothic period onward. Eighteenth-century scholars were aware of the considerable differences in age, nature, and geographic origin among the textual sources, but did not emphasize their historicity or materiality as objects. Their methodological stance was conventional for their time: liturgical studies had long focused on textual content and were based primarily on printed editions rather than on manuscripts to which most scholars did not have direct access. Reliance on editions still remains common in the study of early liturgical texts. Although it would seem that the manuscript orationale and the lectionary offered more ancient and unadulterated testimony than the Mozarabic editions, the printed versions were often given equal or even greater weight as witnesses to early traditions because scholars predominantly had recourse to edited texts. Typical of the intersection of liturgical history with bibliography in the first half of the eighteenth century, even the compendium on rare books by the librarian and theologian Augustus Beyer (1707â41) reviewed the print reception of the Mozarabs and of the Mozarabic editions rather than describe the editions themselves.103 On the Mozarabs and their name, Beyer summarized the account of Blas Ortiz in his 1549 description of Toledo Cathedral, then the chronicles of Juan de Ferreraras and Covarrubias, and the statements of Nicolás Antonio on the riteâs authorship. He went so far as to include the story of the editions as recounted in their prefacesâan additional measure of the power of print.
5 Jesuit Historians of the Rite: Lesley and Burriel
While commenting on the texts of the Ortiz editions was the predominant mode of research on the Mozarabic rite in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, in the eighteenth century scholars began to publish new editions (still ultimately based on those of Ortiz). In the decades around 1750, two Jesuit scholars in different parts of Europe were studying the rite and its editions from differing vantage points. Alexander Lesley, a Scottish Jesuit, undertook research on the history of the liturgy while teaching in Rome from 1744 to his death in 1758. In 1755, he published a reprint of the Ortiz edition of the Mozarabic Missal with his own notes.104 In the same period, the Spanish Jesuit Andrés Marcos Burriel (discussed in chapter 3) consulted medieval liturgical manuscripts of the Mozarabic and Roman rites, as well as editions, while leading the Royal Commission on the Archives in Toledo, from 1749 to 1754.105 He had begun his analysis of the Mozarabic editions in 1747 and continued the work in Toledo until 1756, two years after the Commission had formally concluded. While Burriel compared the medieval manuscripts of the liturgy to the editions, Lesley did not have the opportunity to consult manuscripts; he worked only from the editions. In the preface to his own edition, Lesley stated that he had seen three copiesâone printed on paper, two on parchmentâin Roman libraries.106
These crucial differences between the respective projects of Lesley and Burriel determined the outcomes of their research. Whereas Lesleyâs edition was essentially a reprint (with new commentary) of the Ortiz edition of the Mozarabic missal, Burrielâs comparative work (which remains largely unpublished) constitutes a more nuanced and comprehensive historical assessment. Even more consequential for scholarly understanding of the rite were the contrasting conclusions the two men drew from their source material. While Burrielâs copious manuscript notes detail the manifold and varied ways in which the Mozarabic editions diverged from the medieval sources, Lesley asserted that the Ortiz edition of the missal was an authentic record of the medieval rite. That authenticity, it is worth emphasizing, had become a point of contention.
Already in the late sixteenth century, some Toledan writers observed that the Mozarabic editions contained elements of the Roman rite. Their assessments seem to reflect the influence of humanist textual criticism and perhaps also of post-Tridentine comparisons of liturgical texts with historical witnesses, which, as we have seen, was a widespread method in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries as churches reckoned with reforms and limitations on local traditions imposed by Rome. One of the writers who pointed out Roman elements in the editions was the Mozarabic chaplain Eugenio de Robles, who remarked in his Breve suma:
It should be noted that in the printing that the most Illustrious Cardinal lord friar Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, Archbishop of Toledo had made, in the course of the transfer of Gothic [i.e., Visigothic] script into Latin were added many saints of the ancient Toledan rite, mixed with the Visigothic-Mozarabic saints: and the general Confession was added to the Mass, and the prayer for the veneration of the Cross, and other prayers that are said before the Introit, and the Salve at the end of the Mass. And because these and similar things were added, he gave the Missal the title Missale mixtum, according to the rule of Saint Isidore, said to be of the Mozarabs.107 (italics in the original)
Robles noted further that most of the saintsâ feasts in the Ortiz Breviary that were not also in the medieval manuscripts lacked proper texts specific to their feast days, which were celebrated with texts from the common of saints; the early Visigothic saints with propers (texts specific to their feast days) were martyrs, even if in some cases the printed Breviary identified them as confessors.108 Showing his scrutiny of the feasts in the calendar, Roblesâs observation correlates with annotations in several copies of the Breviary, where later hands identify saints as martyrs rather than confessors.
Accounting for earlier assessments of the Mozarabic Missal of Ortiz, Lesleyâs preface substantiated his position that the edition was faithful to the medieval rite. As he stated:
When I encountered anything that seemed to diverge from the Hispano-Visigothic rite, I indicated in the notes, but these things do not compromise the integrity of the Liturgy of the Missal of Ximenez such that it cannot be called Hispano-Visigothic.109
Point by point, Lesleyâs preface rebuts the claims made by many different scholars according to whom elements of the revised rite were modern or external to the Hispanic tradition. Lesley did reiterate Roblesâs earlier statement that many additions were made when the texts written in Visigothic script in the medieval manuscripts were printed in the Ortiz editions.110 The Jesuit scholar countered, however, that Ortizâs prefatory epistles mentioned the mandate given by Cisneros to print an authentic version that preserved the antiquity of the texts, not only in their meaning but also in their vocabulary and orthography. Lesley also refuted Roblesâs statement that many Roman rite elements were interpolated into the Mozarabic rite, and he did so by advancing the counterargument that the Roman-rite elements could have been interpolated by the Mozarabic clergy themselves, long before the episcopate of Cisneros.111
Given his entrenched opinion, it is not surprising that Lesley opposed most of what Pierre Le Brun himself had written about the Mozarabic rite. Not satisfied merely to oppose Le Brunâs assessments, Lesley made insinuations that subtly impugned his motives and credibility. He referred to Le Brun as promoting âwith the appearance of great learningâ the accusation that the printed Mozarabic Missal was so âcorruptedâ (vitiata) that it could not be called Hispano-Visigothic. He alleged that Le Brun had gathered together in one place and amplified with his own observations the criticisms that had already been voiced by various writers. He presented as trivial details some of Le Brunâs objections to the Mozarabic editionsâfor example, the fact that the printed Missal contained rubrics concerning vestments reflecting post-Visigothic practices while it lacked other rubrics that were known from the Visigothic liturgy.112
Beyond such ad-hominem criticisms, however, Lesleyâs engagement with Le Brunâs work was as substantive and rigorous as we might expect from a serious methodological rival. What the two had in common was that each consulted only the Ortiz edition of the Missal. Where they differed was in the interpretations of its contents. Lesley cited Le Brun more than forty times (sometimes four times on a single page), principally to express disagreement with his statements. For instance, Le Brun had cited as post-medieval elements the rubrics in Good Friday services requiring the deacon and subdeacon to wear black dalmatics. Lesley explained that the use of the term âdalmatic,â rather than referring to the earlier medieval vestment known as the tunic or tunicle, must have been an error and therefore did not imply that other elements in the printed Missal were likewise of recent date.113 Lesley also rebutted Le Brunâs arguments concerning the dating of several texts within the Palm Sunday service in the Mozarabic Missal.114 It remains to ask why Lesley was such a determined partisan of the Ortiz edition. Let us posit that his evident bias in its favor might be a reflection of his work environment in Rome, where the authority of Cardinal Cisneros would have been unquestioned.
Burrielâs was the most ambitious study of the Mozarabic rite yet attempted. As seen in chapter 3, the Royal Commission on the Archives was created by the government of Ferdinand VI to gather documents supporting the Crownâs claims on ecclesiastical property in its decades-long negotiations with the Vatican. Seizing the opportunity for a research program of unprecedented scope, Burriel devised an expansive plan for the study and publication of the historical documents housed in Toledo Cathedral. Early on, however, he broadened the frame of inquiry to encompass nearly everything pertaining to the history of the Iberian peninsula, including medieval liturgical manuscripts and the printed missals and breviaries of most dioceses in Spain.
What set Burriel apart from all other scholars of the time who wrote about the Mozarabic riteâindeed, from most historians of the liturgyâwas his use of original manuscript sources. While most liturgical erudition in the mid-eighteenth century relied primarily or exclusively on printed books, Burriel collated texts from manuscripts and added commentary while undertaking painstaking comparisons and preparing new editions. His unpublished manuscript materials, contained in dozens of volumes now preserved in Madridâs Biblioteca Nacional de España, attest to the extensive copying and compilation carried out by a team of assistants under his supervision. Most decisive for Burrielâs achievements was the expert assistance of Francisco Xavier de Santiago y Palomares, an outstanding calligrapher and medieval manuscript imitator who was uniquely skilled in reading Visigothic script.
For Burriel, liturgical books were historical sources. He viewed the medieval liturgical manuscripts in Visigothic scriptâof which several were jealously guarded in the archives of Toledo Cathedral, as we have seenâas direct witnesses to the history of that cityâs medieval Mozarabic community. In his estimation, then, understanding the situation of the Mozarabic rite meant gaining unprecedented insight into Toledo and its people. Noting differences between the medieval manuscripts and the Ortiz editions, Burriel set out to examine the manuscripts in detail and to produce a new synthesis on the Mozarabic rite and its history. His notes systematically signal the agreements and divergences between the edited versions of texts and the medieval manuscripts. He also took account of relevant scholarship, weighing othersâ judgments against what he found in the archives. In this way, he situated his discoveries in the context not only of existing editions but also prevailing opinion. All of this may strike us as routine; indeed, Burrielâs methods of inquiry resemble to a considerable degree those of liturgical scholars today. Yet for his own time, they were utterly novel.
In the end, very few of Burrielâs findings ever reached a scholarly audience, despite the advanced nature of his work and its aim to provide new historical knowledge about the rite. Most of his research remains in manuscript notes, unpublished. His plans to publish new liturgical editions ultimately did not come to fruition, his activity in Toledo having been interrupted in 1756 owing to the redundancy of the Royal Commission on the Archives after the Crown obtained control over benefices through the Concordat of 1753. When Francisco Antonio Lorenzana (1722â1804) subsequently published his own editions of the Mozarabic riteânow known through a reprint in the Patrologia Latina edition, the most familiar version of the rite todayâhe made no use of the groundbreaking comparisons Burriel had carried out.
6 Lorenzana and the Republication of the Rite
Beyond the publication of some of Burrielâs letters in the late eighteenth century, his findings remained largely unpublished until the twentieth century. Some of the silence about his accomplishments can be attributed to the expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain in 1767 and the suppression of the order by Pope Clement XIV in 1773. While Burriel did not have the opportunity to share the fruits of his liturgical research through print, they may have been a stimulus to the later publications of Lorenzana. Lorenzana became a canon of Toledo Cathedral in 1754, while Burriel was working in the archives. In 1755 Lorenzana became dean of the cathedral. He was surely there when Burriel presented his work to the cathedral chapter that year. And Lorenzana personally owned manuscripts of the plan of work that Burriel had presented to the royal confessor Francisco de Rávago in 1752. Luis Sierra Nava-Lasa notes how closely Lorenzanaâs publications and scholarly interests reproduce the themes of Burrielâs own work on church history, patristics, liturgy and chant, suggesting that the archbishop and his circle of scholarly collaborators simply used the papers Burriel had left behind (none of them shared the Jesuitâs ability to read the Visigothic script).115 Still, Lorenzana never cited Burriel by name. Burriel thus fades quickly from view as we follow Lorenzanaâs career in subsequent decades.
Lorenzana became bishop of Plasencia in 1765 and archbishop of Mexico in 1766. During his time in Mexico, he published in Puebla the work that would cement his reputation, the Missa Gothica (1770).116 After returning to Spain as archbishop of Toledo, in 1772, he published two more re-editions of the neo-Mozarabic rite, the Breviarium Gothicum and Missale Gothicum, both of which paid homage to Cisneros.117 In preparing these volumes he was assisted by the Spanish Jesuit Faustino Arévalo (1747â1824), a scholar of patristics and hymnology. Lorenzana became a Roman cardinal in 1789 and in 1797 was appointed extraordinary envoy from Spain to the Holy See. With the declaration of the Republic in 1798, he accompanied Pius VI into exile, returning to Rome in 1800 after the installation of a new pope, Pius VII. Renouncing the archbishopric of Toledo at that time, Lorenzana remained in Rome until his death in 1804. His final work, published by Arévalo soon after Lorenzanaâs death, was a reedition of the Missale Gothicum.118 To republish the text first brought to light under Cisneros, his predecessor as archbishop of Toledoâand like himself, a Roman cardinalâwas a fitting end to a brilliant ecclesiastical career that combined diplomacy with liturgical erudition, as had Cisnerosâs own trajectory.
A high point of Lorenzanaâs scholarly trajectory was the Missa Gothica of 1770. It is a testament to centuries of writing on the Old Hispanic rite. At the same time, that publication evidences the shift in the perceived relationship between the Mozarabs of Toledo and the rite bearing that communityâs name, traced in chapter 2. One particular detail is stark in this regard: only through illustrations of the duels and trial by fire (discussed in chapter 3) do the Mozarabs of Toledo appear in Lorenzanaâs editions at all. The fact that he spent much of his career far from Toledo might seem to explain this detachment, but there were larger factors at work. While the preface to the Missale mixtum credits members of the Mozarabic community with assisting in the preparation of the Ortiz editions, all editions of the rite published in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were based largely on existing publications, which meant primarily the Ortiz editions. Representatives of the community lamented the difficulty of maintaining the celebration of the rite in the Mozarabic parish churches, as seen in chapter 3. Like the medieval manuscripts in Toledo Cathedral, the Mozarabs had been left behind. Print culture and the commentary tradition on the rite were now ascendant.119
7 Faustino Arévalo: The End of an Era
Lorenzana entrusted the Missale Gothicum edition (1804) to Faustino Arévalo, who was not only a scholar of patristics and hymnology but also a noted philologist.120 After the expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain, he lived in exile in Rome for nearly half a century, beginning in 1780. There, he became part of the intellectual community of exiled Jesuit scholars. In 1786 he published the Hymnodia Hispanica, an edition of new versions of hymns for the Hispanic rite.121 With that publication he sought to attract both the patronage of Lorenzana, whose Breviarium Gothicum of 1775 included new editions of hymns, and the attention of King Charles III, whose interest in the Immaculate Conception was served by a newly composed hymn for that feast at the beginning of the Hymnodia Hispanica.122 The edition bore other fruit for Arévalo: favor with Pope Pius VI, who allowed him access to the Vatican Library, and with the royal court, which gave him a pension. He went on to publish critical editions of Christian Latin poetry.123 His biggest achievement, however, is the summation of centuries of commentary on the Mozarabic rite that he distilled decades later in the publication of Lorenzanaâs last edition.
Before that, the Jesuit scholar had needed to earn Lorenzanaâs trust and his patronage.124 At Lorenzanaâs expense he produced a complete edition of the works of Isidore of Seville, published from 1796 to 1803âwhich today is Arévaloâs most acclaimed contribution.125 Because Isidore was widely considered to be the author of the Old Hispanic riteâor at least of many of its textsâthe prolegomena to the edition of Isidoreâs works include a synthesis of all research on the rite up to the late eighteenth century. Writing the ecclesiastical Latin characteristic of scholarly editions of the period, Arévalo reviewed the accounts from the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries discussed earlier in this chapter. In the manner of a modern liturgical historian writing a review of literature, he outlined and critically assessed the history of research on the rite since the publication of the Ortiz editions. His exposition illustrates the process of scholarly study over the centuries leading to a general consensus that the Ortiz editions were inauthentic witnesses to the medieval manuscripts but could have been a faithful record of practice around 1500.126 Arévalo brought into dialogue the findings of scholars who had addressed the central questions about the relationship of the Ortiz editions to the medieval manuscript tradition, as we see in these two sentences:
Cardinal Ximenes did not intend to represent to us all the antiquity of the Gothic office as if in chronological order, but from those things which were in the various volumes, partly very ancient, partly more recent, to select those which seemed best suited to organizing the Mozarabic office and combining it into a single corpus; thus he accomplished exactly what he set out to do, so that the Mozarabic priests could continue to perform its rites with less effort than before. But critical men, who love not only to differentiate ancient from recent things, but also to compare the older with the less ancient, and know everything about ecclesiastical antiquity, are still left to wish for all these Codices to be brought to light publicly, as the Gothic Orationale was by Bianchini, and many other missals, antiphonaries, and hymnaries have been edited by Mabillon, the Reverend cardinal Tommasi, Muratori, and others.127
Arévalo juxtaposed the pragmatic nature of the Ortiz edtions with the critical expectations of his contemporaries. The hallmark of a more modern approach to liturgical history, as exemplified by Arévalo, is the premise that the texts have changed over time and that historical criticism can uncover chronological stagesâsome of them made available by previous scholars and the editions they had published. Liturgical erudition was a new edifice built up slowly on the twin foundations of textual criticism and historical criticism that had been applied to hagiography since the Counter-Reformation. Arévaloâs writings on the Old Hispanic rite, little known today, offer eloquent testimony to a then-emergent historical view of the liturgy.
Advanced though it was, Arévaloâs work does conform with that of his predecessors in notable ways. His commentary on the rite, like theirs, was inseparable from the history of Mozarabs and the etymology of their name. For his part, he synthesized the well-known medieval texts cited by early modern writers, but also quoted from the Divisiones decem nationum (less familiar to his contemporaries; discussed in chapter 2) as cited in the Particularités littéraires sur la liturgie mosarabe (discussed in chapter 4) and Jacques de Vitryâs Historia orientalis, one of the Divisionesâ major sources.128 Arévaloâs review of the etymology includes the etymon proposed by Marqués de Mondejar (Mustarabes, âLiving among Arabsâ), discounts the etymon muza (âChristianâ) as refuted by Arabists, and reports widespread rejection of the explanation that the Mozarabs âfollowed in certain rites the customs of Christians living in Arabia,â meaning Eastern Christians.129
Among the many authors cited by Arévalo in his edition of Isidore, the one that stands out the most is his fellow Jesuit Andrés Marcos Burriel. While the liturgical publications of Arévaloâs patron Lorenzana never cited or mentioned Burrielâthis includes even the Missale Gothicum edition, which was actually Arévaloâs workâin the prolegomena to his edition of Isidore of Sevilleâs works Arévalo reported Burrielâs findings repeatedly, as if at pains to acknowledge the neglected but crucial contributions of his fellow Jesuit. Even more striking than the pointed citation of Burriel after decades of silence is the fact that Arévalo had read the summary of Burrielâs letters in the French leaflet mentioned just above, Particularités littéraires sur la liturgie mosarabe, published in 1786 by Barthélemy Mercier de Saint-Leger, the librarian of the abbey of Saint-Geneviève in Paris. In the same prolegomena, Arévalo translated into Latin one of Burrielâs letters, which had been published in Castilian.130
Next to his momentous edition of Isidoreâs works, Arévaloâs subsequent preparation of Lorenzanaâs Missale Gothicum for print marks the end of an era. Published four months after Lorenzanaâs death in 1804, the edition constitutes a monument to the cardinal. Arévaloâs extensive commentary on the text is a critical compilation and summation of three centuries of erudition on the rite. While the composite of the opinions of previous scholars is Lorenzanaâs, other aspects of the edition express Arévaloâs own critical approach.131 For instance, on 21 July, the Feast of Saint Praxedis, the Feast of Saint Speratus and Companions is indicated in parentheses along with a note saying that the Mozarabic Breviary gives this date.132 In this way Arévalo acknowledges the longstanding disagreement about the date of the feast (21 July in the Mozarabic breviary but 16 November in the Missale mixtum) but refrains from comment, and does not seek to reconcile the conflicting dates in the Ortiz editions.
Like the note about the Scillitan martyrs, others in the Missale Gothicum treat bitterly disputed questions in an impassive tone. Arévaloâs impartiality is noticeable in his discussion of the date of the Feast of Saint James (Santiago). Two dates were in conflictâ25 July and 30 Decemberâas seen in a note in the copy of the Mozarabic Breviary that belonged to the Mozarabic Parish Church of San Sebastián in the eighteenth century, which states that the feast belongs on 30 December but that Cisneros had placed it in July in order to conform with Roman use.133 The question of which date had priority was particularly fraught, for the answer depended on how long the saint had been venerated in Iberia. The fact that Santiago was not in the Visigothic liturgical calendar undermined the so-called tradiciones jacobeas (âJacobean traditionsâ), which had maintained his presence in the Iberian peninsula in Christian antiquity. Increased veneration of the saint during the eleventh and twelfth centuries gave rise to the widespread belief that he had evangelized Spain and that Santiago de Compostela was, therefore, the primatial see.134 Adding a note to the 25 July date in a reconstruction of the Visigothic liturgical calendar based on his compilation from various printed sources, Arévalo wrote simply and dispassionately that âit is not clear enough on which day the Visigoths venerated this apostle.â135
Arévaloâs work in his edition of Isidore of Seville and in the Missale Gothicum illustrates the development of liturgical historiography into a discourse based on the manuscripts as well as the critical assessment of prior scholarship. In addition to reporting the findings of others, the text engages in the refutation of previous arguments and the comparison of witnesses, displaying a critical acumen that surpasses the more encyclopedic spirit of earlier writers. To be sure, Arévalo shares with previous authors a tendency to present lengthy direct quotations and to catalogue opinions, a practice which remained common in the nineteenth century. His diachronic approach was not simply a collecting that resulted in sedimentation, however; in gathering the learned writing that had gradually accrued since the time of Cisneros, he assessed even the earlier opinions with care and moderation.
A close contemporary of the visual artist Francisco Goya y Lucientes (1746â1828), Faustino Arévalo was no less a man of his own time. He inaugurated the modernization of liturgical erudition, with historical scholarship on the rite reviewing literature, thinking critically, and speaking in a distinctively measured scholarly voice. Arévaloâs contribution to understanding the Mozarabic rite can be seen as the culmination of a process that had begun three centuries earlier with the publication of the Ortiz editions.
Aleida Assmann, âCanon and Archive,â in Cultural Memory Studies: An International and Interdisciplinary Handbook, ed. Astrid Erll and Ansgar Nünning in collaboration with Sara B. Young, Media and Cultural Memory 8 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2008), 97â108, at 99.
Simon Ditchfield, Liturgy, Sanctity and History in Tridentine Italy: Pietro Maria Campi and the Preservation of the Particular, Cambridge Studies in Italian History and Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 20.
See Ditchfield, Liturgy, esp. 23â44, on the reform of the Roman breviary.
Ditchfield, ââ¯âHistoria Magistra Sanctitatisâ? The Relationship between Historiography and Hagiography in Italy after the Council of Trent (1564â1742 ca.),â in Nunc alia tempora, alii mores: Storici e storia in età postridentina, ed. Massimo Firpo (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, 2005), 3â23. On the lack of distinction between hagiography and history in the Middle Ages, the foundational essay is Felice Lifshitz, âBeyond Positivism and Genre: âHagiographicalâ Texts as Historical Narrative,â Viator 25 (1994): 95â113.
Ditchfield, Liturgy; Katrina Olds, Forging the Past: Invented Histories in Counter-Reformation Spain (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2015); Erin Rowe, Saint and Nation: Santiago, Teresa of Avila, and Plural Identities in Early Modern Spain (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2011); Katherine Elliott Van Liere, âThe Moorslayer and the Missionary: James the Apostle in Spanish Historiography from Isidore of Seville to Ambrosio de Morales,â Viator 37 (2006): 519â43.
William H. Sherman, Used Books: Marking Readers in Renaissance England, Material Texts (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008), xivâxv.
Cambridge, Emmanuel College Library, MSÂ 5.2.12.
Copies which contain notes of possession and established provenance have relatively few annotations, in part because they have been preserved for centuries in private collections.
Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla y La Mancha, 1â3556, fol. 360vâ61r: Hic hymnus est quintus apud Prudentium, per quem corrigendus est iste a multis mendis.
Blois, Bibliothèque Abbé Grégoire, I 40 bis, fol. 84râv.
Errata huius hymni cuius auctor est Prudentius, corrige ita ex emendatione et commentario Victoris Giselini, in Prudentii Cathemerinon, Hymn. 7o. This may be a reference to the edition published by Christophe Plantin in Antwerp in 1564: Aurelius Prudentius Clemens, Theodori Pulmanni Cranenburgii, et Victoris Giselini opera: Ex fide decem librorum manuscriptorum emendatus. Et in eum, eiusdem Victoris Giselini commentarius.
Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3709.
For example, Madrid, BNE, R/16492, fols 342, 345v, 348r, 350v, 373r, 389r, 403v; Madrid, BNE, R/3858, fol. 49r; Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, 69.4.G.22, fols 26r, 31r, 49r, 345v, 359r.
Manuel del Sol, âEl himno Pange Lingua de Juan de Urrede, un emblema del poder de las élites hispánicas en el antiguo régimen (siglos XVIâXVIII),â Historia y genealogÃa 11 (2021): 168â87. I thank MarÃa Soterraña Aguirre Rincon for this reference.
For the annotation see Madrid, BNE, R/3858, fol. 388v. The hymn is available at
Copenhagen, Kongelige Biblioteket, 4,68 S-30. On Saint Mancius see José MarÃa Fernández Catón, San Mancio, culto, leyenda y reliquias: Ensayo de crÃtica hagiográfica (León: Centro de Estudios e Investigación San Isidoro [CSICâCECEL], 1983).
On the cult of the guardian angel in the seventeenth century see particularly Antoine Mazurek, âLâange gardien, entre théologie, dévotion et spiritualité (XVIeâXVIIe siècles),â Revue dâhistoire des religions 1 (2016): 21â47.
Mercedes Castillo-Ferreira, âChant, Liturgy and Reform,â in Companion to Music in the Age of the Catholic Monarchs, ed. Tess Knighton, Brillâs Companions to Musical Culture of Medieval and Early Modern Europe 1 (Leiden: Brill, 2017), 283â322, at 316â17.
For a brief biography of Pérez Bayer see Antonio Mestre Sanchis, âFrancisco Pérez Bayer,â in Diccionario Biográfico electrónico, Real Academia de la Historia,
Stefano Muneroni, Hermenegildo and the Jesuits: Staging Sainthood in the Early Modern Period (Cham: Springer, 2017).
Maria José del Rio Barredo, Madrid, urbs regia: La capital ceremonial de la MonarquÃa Católica (Madrid: Marcial Pons Historia, 2000), 50.
On the canonization of Ferdinand III see most recently Alvariño Ãlvarez-Ossorio, âRey Santo: Fernando III, una corona sagrada para la monarquÃa de España,â Tiempos modernos 46 (2023): 307â28.
Ãlvarez-Ossorio, âRey Santo,â 314â16; Lourdes Amigo Vázquez, âLa apoteosis de la MonarquÃa Católica Hispánica. Fiestas por la canonización de San Fernando en Valladolid (1671),â in La declinación de la MonarquÃa Hispánica en el siglo XVII, ed. Francisco José Aranda Pérez (Cuenca: Ediciones de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, 2004), 189â205, at 191â93.
Ãlvarez-Ossorio, âRey Santo,â 321â24.
Andrés Marcos Burriel, Memorias para la vida del santo rey Don Fernando III, ed. Miguel de Manuel RodrÃguez (1800; repr., Barcelona: El Albir, 1974). We will return to the work of Burriel later in this chapter.
Ramón López Domech, âLas Santas Nunilo y Alodia de Huesca, Huéscar (Granada) y Bezares (La Rioja): Ensayo bibliográfico,â Los columbarios de la Rioja, antigüedad y cristianismo 16 (1999): 379â96, esp. 387â89 on the historiography of the saints in the early modern period.
The most recent account of the false chronicles is Olds, Forging the Past. On the controversy about Saint Thyrsus and its consequences see Olds, Forging the Past, 29â55, drawing on Abraham Madroñal, âSan Tirso de Toledo, tragedia perdida de Lope de Vega,â Hipogrifo. Revista de literatura y cultura del Siglo de Oro 2 (2014): 23â54.
Alonso de Cárcamo, Traslado de la carta y relacion que embio a su Magestad el señor don Alonso de Carcamo [â¦] a cerca del templo que en ella se ha hallado, del señor san Tyrso [â¦] (Toledo: Pedro Rodriguez, 1595).
Olds, Forging the Past, 43â44.
Olds, Forging the Past, 37.
âExsulta nimium turba fideliumâ is transmitted in Madrid, Real Academia de la Historia, cod. 30 (from San Millan de la Cogolla, in the Rioja region), fol. 212râ213v, and Madrid, BNE, MS 10001 (earlier in Toledo), XXXIVâXXXVI. The most recent critical edition is Hymnodia Hispanica, ed. José Castro Sánchez, Corpus Christianorum Series Latina 167 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2011), 640â42. The hymn is catalogued as a06500 in the Musica Hispanica database (
Olds, Forging the Past, 48: âOh martyr, with tears, oh vernule, we entreat you.â
On Cixila see Ramón Gonzálvez Ruiz, âEl arzobispo Cixila: Su tiempo, su vida, su obra,â in Luz de sus ciudades: Homenaje a Julio Porres MartÃn-Cleto, ed. Ramón Gonzálvez Ruiz (Toledo: Real Academia de Bellas Artes y Ciencias Históricas de Toledo, 2008), 45â87.
The strophe reads: Lord, Cixila built this temple; here may he obtain a worthy end in heaven; may he sing songs with the dwellers on high, rejoicing perpetually for all time (Templum hoc domine cixilla condidit / dignam hic habeat sortem in ethera / cum summis ciuibus cantica precinat / gaudens perpetuis seculis omnibus).
This attribution is summarized in Hymnodia Hispanica, ed. Castro Sánchez, 848. The most recent musicological study of the Iberian hymns follows this attribution; see Carmen Julia Gutiérrez, âIberia canta a sus santos. Los himnos de la liturgia hispánica dedicados a los santos ibéricos,â Anuario musical 79 (2024): 12, 24.
Olds, Forging the Past, 48â49. Salazar wrote several important works on the history of Spain, including the posthumously published MonarquÃa de España (Madrid: Joachin Ibarra, 1770), which systematically theorizes the claims of the Spanish crown to universal rule.
The letters are bound in the copy of the Traslado in Toledo, BCT, 76â2. They were published in Nicolás Antonio, Censura de historias fabulosas, ed. Gregorio Mayans y Siscar (Valencia: Antonio Bordázar de Artazu, 1742), 524â33.
Olds, Forging the Past, 32, reproduces the copy of this admonitory inscription that was made in the eighteenth century in a copy of the Traslado that is now Madrid, BNE, R/8499.
Olds, Forging the Past, 52â54.
Examples are Toledo, BCT, FM-1; Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3556 (the text appears on fol. 364r).
Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3709, fol. 344r: Esta estancia se ha de quitar.
Toledo, BCT, FM-1, fols 343vâ344r.
Toledo, BCT, FM-1, 343v (lower margin): [Th]yrsus passus est NicomediÄ, Leucius. [â¦] Cumbricius prÄses Bauclus [iu]dex.
Toledo, BCT, FM-1, 343v (lower margin): Huius hymni explanatio ex martyrio sancti Thyrsi petenda quod in smaragdino libro in bibliotheca sancta ecclesie ToletanÄ est [â¦]; fol. 344r (upper margin): in libro supra citato.
Toledo, BCT, 44.11, olim 35.6. A passionary is a collection of texts known as passions (narrative accounts of martyrdom). The annotator refers to this book as a âlibro smaragdinoâ most likely because the first two volumes in the three-volume set comprised of 44.9, 44.10, and 44.11 contain texts by Smaragdus of Saint-Mihiel.
Passionarium Hispanicum saeculi decimi, ed. Yarza Urquiola, CCSLÂ 171 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2020), 673.
Editing this hymn, Ortiz might have used Madrid, BNE, 10001, which was in Toledo until the nineteenth century.
On Vázquez Siruela see Olds, Forging the Past, 291. The copy is Madrid, BNE, MSS 6239â6240. The first volume, MS 6239, has a note on the first pastedown stating that the volume was purchased by the Royal Library from the Count of Miranda (âSe comprò con otros al Excelentisimo Senor Conde de Mirandaâ), meaning Antonio López de Zúñiga (1700â65). A note of possession (âEste Breviario es de la Iglesia de S. Marcos Mozarave de Toledoâ), transcribed by Siruela, indicates that his exemplar was most likely the copy that is now Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3710, where an identical note, in a sixteenth-century hand, appears on the frontispiece.
Antonioâs more extensive transcription from the breviary is now preserved in Madrid, BNE, MS 7365, fols 486â529 (cited in Hymnodia Hispanica, ed. Castro Sánchez, 25).
Madrid, BNE, MS 7365, fols 524â533 (chs 7â8).
I use the spelling Le Brun here as it appears in the eighteenth-century publications.
I am exceedingly grateful to Antoine Mazurek for bringing to my attention Le Brunâs manuscript notes and letters on Spain preserved in Paris, BnF, lat. 16811.
See Xavier Bisaro, Le passé présent: Une enquête liturgique dans la France du début du XVIIIe siècle (Paris: Les Ãditions du Cerf, 2012).
Pierre Le Brun, Explication litterale, historique et dogmatique des prières et des ceremonies de la messe: suivant les anciens auteurs, et les monumens de la plupart des eglises, avec des dissertations & des notes sur les endroits difficiles & sur lâorigine des rits, 4 vols (Paris: Florentin Delaulne, 1716â26).
The first questionnaire is printed in Bisaro, Le passé présent, 161â62.
On Le Brunâs method and the development of the questionnaires see ibid., 30â41.
For the text of the second questionnaire see ibid., 163â70.
Paris, BnF, lat 16811, fol. 141râv: On me presse vivement de donner au plûtôt le volume de dissertations dans lequel je dois p[arler] du Rit Mosarabe et je nâatens pour cela quâun de ces Missels manuscrits des Eglises dâEspagne qui étoit encore en usage au 12e siecle, ou du moins que quelquâun ait la bonté de collationer un de ces manuscrits avec le Missel Mosarabe que le Cardinal Cisneros fis imprimer en 1500 et dont on se sert actuellement à la chapelle de Tolède. Nous avons à Paris ce missel et je voudrois scavoir exactement ce quâil y a de plus ou de moins dans les Manuscrits, parce quâil me paraît que le Cardinal Cisneros y a fait quelque changement qui pourroit rendre le reste suspect.
âCinquième Dissertation: Ancienne et nouvelle Liturgie des Eglises dâEspagne,â Le Brun, Explication, 2:271â340.
Le Brun, Explication, 2:304: Il y a donc dans le Missel Mozarabe imprimé des choses qui étoient très-récentes au tems du Cardinal Ximenès; & il y en a dâautres qui étant déja assez anciennes, ne viennent pourtant pas du Missel Mozarabe, ni de lâancien Rit des Eglises dâEspagne.
Le Brun, Explication, 2:333: De tout ce que nous venons de voir il faut inférer que dans le Missel Mozarabe imprimé, on a inséré des pratiques et des Rubriques qui nâétoient pas de lâancien Rite Gothique & qui ont été tirées du Missel Romain-Gallican de Tolede; sans doute parce quâon ne connoissoit pas tout le détail de lâancien Rit Gothique, ne se faisant plus dans aucune Eglise au tems du Cardinal Ximenès. Il faut par conséquent en conclure aussi quâon ne peut citer comme venant du Mozarabe tout ce que quelques Auteurs ont tiré de lâOrdo Missae de ce Missel, ni de lâOrdo du Mercredi des Cendres, du Dimanche des Rameaux, du Jeudi Saint, du Vendredi Saint & du Samedi Saint, que le Pere Martene a inseré dans le Volume De antiqua Ecclesiae disciplina, car presque toutes les Rubriques marquées en ces jours sont évidemment tirées du Missel de Tolede qui au tems du Cardinal Ximenès étoit avec raison apellé Missale mixtum. En effet il nâétoit pas pur Romain; on y avoit pu insérer quelques usages du Rit Gothique, & il étoit certainement mêlé de plusieurs pratiques qui (comme nous lâavons dit) venoient des Eglises de France. Telle est par exemple la céremonie de fermer lâEglise à la Procession des Rameaux, et de ne lâouvrir quâaprès que le Prêtre a frapé plusieurs fois à la porte avec la Croix, quâil a demandé dâouvrir au Roi de gloire. Ce sont là de ces spectacles quâon a introduits vers lâan mille en quelques Eglises de France, & quâon ne trouvoit pas alors ni dans le Missel Romain, ni dans le Missel Mozarabe.
I am preparing a study of Le Brunâs notes and an edition of his correspondence.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fols 1â8 comprise the âExtraits du Rituel Mozarabe.â Paris, BnF, Réserve B270 has a seventeenth-century book stamp from the Bibliothèque royale. I thank the librarians of the Réserve for this information.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fol. 19r: On ne voit pas dans le Missel Mozarabe imprimé ce que Guitmond ecrivoit au XI siecle dans son De Sacramento: In quodam Missali Hispano quod dicunt Sanctum dictasse Isidorum In hebdomada ante Pascha, in quadam missa sic inueni: Totum hoc Domine diuinum est. totum pater de caelo. (underscored in the original) The quoted passage in question is in Bibliotheca patrum (Cologne: Antonii Hierati, 1618), 11:369, and Nicolás Antonio, Bibliotheca Hispana vetus: sive, Hispanorum qui usquam unquamve scripto aliquid consignaverunt, notitia [â¦] (Rome: Ex Typographia Antonii de Rubeis, 1696), 1:269 (bk. 5, ch. 4).
Le Brun, Explication, 2:307.
See Susan Boynton, Silent Music: Medieval Song and the Construction of History in Eighteenth-Century Spain (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 12â13. I also mention this request in the preface to the present study.
Alexandre Tessier, Réseaux diplomatiques et République des Lettres: Les correspondants de Sir Joseph Williamson (1660â1680), Bibliothèque dâhistoire moderne et contemporaine 50 (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2015), 25â26.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fols 133râ134r, letter of 14 October 1720 from Desserre to Le Brun.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fol. 134r.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fol. 141r: si lâalliance de la France avec lâEspagne se renouvelle plus que jamais comme on le crois presentement.
Sylvain Lloret, âEntre clientélisme, compétence et intérêt individuel: De lâavantage dâêtre agent général de France à Madrid (1702â1793),â in âDossier: De lâintérêt dâêtre consul en Méditerranée, XVIIeâXXe siècle,â special issue, Cahiers de la Mediterranée 98 (2019): 45â56.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16811, fol. 135r: Il est a present Mr le Comte de Robin de Saint-Challier, Comte de Castille, reconnus non seulement en Espagne, mais par les patentes du Roi de France enregistrées dans les Parlemens et très estimé par tous.
Ibid., fol. 141v, letter of Le Brun to Desserre (undated, probably written around 1725).
Ibid., fol. 136r, letter of Le Brun to Desserre, 5 July 1724.
Ibid., fol. 139v, letter of Desserre to Le Brun (undated, probably from 1724â25): Je fis aussi tout ce que je pus pour en voir quelques mots transcris, et cela même me fus refusé; on mâecrivais de Tolede que ces livres etoient defectueux en quelques endroits et quâil y a en avoit dâautres, quâon ne scavois pas lire, jâoffris de les faire copier à mes depenses et que jâengagierois tous les scavants à remettre ces passages et a tacher de lire ce quâils croyoient inlisible, mais mes lettres nâeurent aucune response, ainsi a moins de lâautorité Royalle, je suis persuadé que ces livres se perdront tout à fait.
The conclusion of the letter refers to the death of Louis I of Spain at the age of 17 (on 31 August 1724), followed by the reversion of the crown to his father, Philip V (on 6 September 1724). Ibid, fol. 140v: Depuis la mort de notre jeune Roy, et après bien des difficultés levées, le Roy son Pere a repris le gouvernement de ce royaume.
Ibid., fol. 137râ138v, letter of Le Brun to Desserre, 2 August 1726.
Joannes Pinius, Liturgia Mozarabica: Tractatus historico-chronologicus de liturgia antiqua Hispanica, Gothica, Isidoriana, Mozarabica, Toletana, mixta [â¦] (1729; repr., Rome: Typis Hieronymi Mainardi, 1740). This work was reprinted along with others in Liturgia antiqua Hispanica, Gothica, Isidoriana, Mozarabica, Toletana, mixta (Rome: Typis Hieronymi Mainardi, 1746).
Paris, Bibliothèque de lâArsenal, MS 6298â99 (Théologie), fol. 32, no. 43.
The description is in Pinius, Tractatus historico-chronologicus, 109â10.
This was first noted by Alfonso Echánove Tuero, La preparación intelectual del P. Andrés Marcos Burriel, S.J. (1731â1750) (Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones CientÃficas, Instituto EnrÃque Flórez, 1971), 270.
Boynton, Silent Music, 26.
The passionary manuscript is Toledo, BCT, 44.11 (olim 35.6).
Madrid, BNE, MS 13015, fols 75râ77v. This manuscript is the first volume of the complete transcription of the passionary Toledo, BCT, 44.11 (olim 35.6).
For an overview of the Scillitan martyrs in their historical context see David E. Whilhite, Ancient African Christianity (London: Routledge, 2017), 85â87, 91â96.
Fabio Ruggiero, âAtti dei martiri scilitani: Introduzione, testo, traduzione, testimonianze e commento,â Atti della Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei: Memorie / Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filologiche, 9th ser., 1, fasc. 2 (1991): 39â138, at 48.
Acta sanctorum julii 4: col. 206: Opinor, quasdam S. Sperati & Sociorum martyrum reliquias ex Africa in Hispaniam translatas solemni huic Mozarabum cultui causam dedisse [â¦] illos Martyres non ipso martyrii die a Mozarabibus coli, sed in Breviario XXI Julii, & in Missali XVI Novembris celebrari, qui forte sunt dies, quibus reliquias eorum receperunt, vel populo publice venerandas proposuerunt.
The notes, usually in Castilian, typically state ânote. They are on 21Â Julyâ (âojo. Son al 21 de julioâ or âSon 21 de julioâ). It is possible that the same hand added many of these notes. Examples include Florence, BNC, Banco Rari 117; Madrid, BNE, R/16492 and R/6714 (outlined in Madrid, BNE, R/7180); Rome, Biblioteca Corsiniana, 46.F.7; Toledo, BCT, 74â31, FM-1, FM-21, and FM-23; Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3714.
Toledo, BCT, FM-24: Est 16 novembris; Rome, Biblioteca dellâAccademia dei Lincei e Corsiniana, 46.F.19: Sperati et S. non hic in mense nouembris celebratur (added to the July page of the calendar). The feast is also added in the body of the text in November.
Juan Tamayo de Salazar, Martyrologium Hispanum, sive Anamnesis sive Commemorationis sanctorum hispanorum, 6 vols (Lyon, 1651â59). For the biography of Salazar see Miguel Gómez Vivanco, âJuan Tamayo de Salazar,â in Diccionario Biográfico electrónico, Real Academia de la Historia,
Acta sanctorum julii 4: col. 209: Lest anyone be tricked by these magnificent titles of very ancient codices or manuscripts, the most erudite Spaniard Nicolás Antonio in his posthumous writings, which were very kindly communicated to me in Madrid in 1721 by the great Adrian Coninck, a relative of the most learned author, [Antonio] defends everything against the usual fallacies of his compatriot Tamayo concerning this controversy (Ne quis magnificis hisce vetustissimorum codicum aut manuscriptorum titulis decipiatur, Nicolaus Antonius eruditissimus Hispanus in Mss. posthumis, quæ mihi Matriti anno 1721 ab amplissimo D. Adriano Coninck, doctissimi auctoris consanguineo, perhumaniter communicata sunt, unumquemque adversus consuetas Tamayi popularis sui fallacias occasione hujus controversiæ sic præmunit). Pinius refers to Adrian Coninck as related to the Flemish Jesuit Giles de Coninck (1571â1633), a noted theologian.
Cesare Baronio, Martyrologium Romanum ad novam kalendarii rationem et ecclesiasticae historiae veritatem restitutum [â¦] (Rome: Typographia Vaticana, 1598), 346.
Antonio, Censura, 281â82. On Higuera see above, 188â90.
Acta sanctorum julii 4: col. 206.
Breviarium secundum regulam Beati Isidori (Toledo: Petrus Hagembach, 1502), fols 382vâ83r.
London, British Library, MS Add. 30845, fol. 47r. The transcription of the text in the Musica Hispanica database incorrectly transcribes the hic as his. See
The transcription in Madrid, BNE, MSÂ 13015 of Toledo 44.11 is by an amanuensis, possibly Francisco Xavier de Palomares.
Madrid, BNE, MS 13015, fol. 11v.
Jean Mabillon, De liturgia Gallicana libri III (Paris: Martin and Boudot, 1685).
See Manuel C. Vivancos, âEl oracional visigótico de Verona: Notas codicológicas y paleográficas,â Cuadernos de filologÃa clásica. Estudios latinos 26 (2006): 121â44. See also Manuel C. DÃaz y DÃaz, âConsideraciones sobre el oracional visigótico de Verona,â in Petrarca, Verona e lâEuropa, Atti del convegno internazionale di studi (Verona, 19â23 sett. 1991), ed. Giuseppe Billanovich and Giuseppe Frasso, Studi sul Petrarca 26 (Padua: Antenore, 1997), 13â29. Although an orationale is typically a collection of prayers, this manuscript is a book for the celebration of Mass.
Giuseppe Bianchini, âAdnotationes in sequentem libellum orationum antiquissimi ritus Gothico-Hispani,â in Liturgia antiqua, 255. The lectionary, which Mabillon found at the Abbey of Luxueil, in northeastern France, could have been copied elsewhere.
Paris, BnF, lat. 16881, fol. 39r.
Augustus Beyer, Memoriae historico-criticae librorum rariorum (Dresden: Friedrich Hekel, 1734), 158â66. It is possible that Beyer saw a copy of the Mozarabic Missal during his studies in Leipzig (see chapter 4).
Missale mixtum secundum regulam Beati Isidori dictum Mozarabes, ed. Alexander Lesley (Rome: Venanzio Monaldini, 1755).
On Burrielâs study of liturgical manuscripts see Boynton, Silent Music, and Susan Boynton, âBurriel, Palomares y el studio del rito hispánico en el siglo XVIII,â trans. Anna Llorens MartÃn, in El canto mozárabe y su entorno: Estudios sobre la música de la liturgia viejo hispánica, ed. Ismael Fernández de la Cuesta, Rosario Ãlvarez MartÃnez, and Ana Llorens MartÃn (Madrid: Sociedad Española de MusicologÃa, 2013), 647â68.
One was the copy belonging to Neri Corsini and another belonged to Silvio Valenti Gonzaga. See Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, iv. These copies are discussed in chapter 4. Since the Corsini library had opened to the public only in 1754, Lesley probably saw the Missal there in that year.
Eugenio de Robles, Breve suma y relacion del modo del rezo y missa del oficio santo gotico mozarabe: Que en la capilla de Corpus Christi de la santa yglesia de Toledo se conserua y reza oy conforme a la regla del glorioso San Isidoro Arçobispo de Seuilla (Toledo: s.n., 1603), fol. 19v: Es de advertir, que en la impression que hizo el Illustrissimo Cardenal don fray Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, Arçobispo de Toledo, y en la traducion de la letre Gotica en Latina, añadio muchos de los santos del oficio Toledano antiguo, y loz mezclo con los santos Goticos Mozarabes: y añadio en la Missa la Confession general, y la oracion para la adoracion de la Cruz, y las demas oraciones que se dizen antes del Introito, y la Salve al fin de la Missa. Y por razon de aver añadido estas cosas, y otras semejantes, dio al Missal Mozarabe el titulo que tiene, que es: Missale mixtum, secundum regulam Beati Isidori, dictum Mozarabes.
Robles, Breve suma, fols 19vâ20r. The common of saints is the term used for the collection of liturgical texts ordered by category of saint (confessor, virgin, martyr, bishop, apostle, and so on).
Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxi: Si quid enim offendi, quod a ritibus Gotho-Hispanis discrepare videbatur, in notis indicavi. Haec tamen integritati Liturgiae Missalis Ximenii non ita nocent, ut Gotho-Hispana dici nequeat.
Lesley describes this as a process of transcription, using the Latin noun translatio, which means âtransferâ in this context: âin the transfer of the Gothic text into Latinâ (in translatione textus Gothici in latinum). The sentence refers to the style of script rather than to a difference of language.
Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxix: Quid si a Sacerdotibus Mozarabibus ante Episcopatum Ximenii additae fuerint? (What if they were added by the Mozarabic priests before the episcopate of Ximenez?)
Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxâxxi.
Le Brun, Explication, 2:303; Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxviiâxxviii.
Le Brun, Explication, 2:333; Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxviâxxvii.
Luis Sierra Nava-Lasa, El cardenal Lorenzana y la ilustración, Publicaciones de la Fundación Universitaria Española, MonografÃas 11 (Madrid: Fundación Universitaria Española, 1975), 93â97.
Missa Gothica seù Mozarabica, et Officium itidèm Gothicum, diligentèr ac dilucidè explanata ad usum percelebris Mozárabum Sacelli Toleti á munificentissimo Cardinali Ximenio erecti, et in obsequium illmi. perindè ac venerab. D. Decani et capituli Sanctae Ecclesiae Toletanae, Hispaniarum et Indiarum primátis (Angelopoli: Typis Seminarii Palafoxiani, 1770) (discussed in chapter 3).
Breviarium Gothicum secundum regularm beatissimi Isidori ad usum sacelli Mozarabum (Madrid: Joaquin Ibarra, 1775); Missale Gothicum secundum regulam beati Isidori Hispalensis episcopi jussu cardinalis Francisci Ximenii de Cisneros in usum Mozarabum prius editum [â¦] (Rome: Antonium Folgonium, 1804).
Missale Gothicum.
As seen in chapter 4, in the eighteenth century copies of the Ortiz editions were annotated, inscribed, and sometimes restored in Toledan parish churches.
For the biography of Arévalo see Elena Gallego Moya, âAcercamiento a la biografÃa del jesuita Faustino Arévalo (1747â1824),â in Y en el tercero perecerán: Gloria, caÃda y exilio de los jesuitas españoles en el s. XVIII, ed. Miguel Batllori and Enrique Giménez López (Alicante: Universidad de Alicante, 2002), 611â37.
Faustino Arévalo, Hymnodia Hispanica ad cantus, latinitatis, metrique leges revocata [â¦] (Rome: Typographia Salomoniana, 1786). For a modern edition of the texts see Faustino Arévalo, Los himnos de la Hymnodia Hispanica, ed. Elena Gallega Moya (Alicante: Universidad de Alicante, 2002).
Gallega Moya, âAcercamiento,â 620â22.
Ibid., 622â23.
Ibid., 621.
Isidore of Seville, S. Isidori Hispalensis episcopi Hispaniarum doctoris opera omnia, ed. Faustino Arévalo, 7 vols (Rome: Antonii Fulgoni, 1797â1803), reprinted in Patrologiae cursus completus, series latina, vols 81â84 (Paris: Migne, 1844â50)âhereafter PL.
Alexander Lesley had made this point in the preface to his 1755 edition, asserting that the extraneous elements from the Roman rite introduced by Ortiz into his edition may have already been in the late-medieval tradition observed by Mozarabic clergy in Toledo. See Missale mixtum, ed. Lesley, xxix.
Isidore of Seville, S. Isidori Hispalensis, ed. Arévalo, 1:129 (PL 81:686): Cardinalis Ximenius non sibi proposuerit, totam antiquitatem officii Gothici veluti ordine chronologico nobis repraesentare: sed ex variis, quae aderant, voluminibus partim antiquissimis, partim recentioribus, ea seligere quae officio Mozarabico ordinando atque in unum corpus compingendo magis accommodata viderentur, id quidem effecit quod conatus est, ut sacerdotes Mozarabes leviori quam ante labore ritus suos peragere valerent: at viris criticis, qui non solum antiqua a recentibus discernere amant, sed antiquiora cum minus antiquis conferre, nihilque prorsus antiquitatis ecclesiasticae ignorare, adhuc desiderandum reliquit, omnes hujusmodi Codices in publicam lucem prodire, ut Orationale Gothicum a Blanchino, et plura alia missalia, antiphonaria et hymnaria a Mabillonio, Ven. cardinale Thomasio, Muratorio et aliis edita sunt.
On the Divisiones and Jacques de Vitry see chapter 3.
Isidore of Seville, S. Isidori Hispalensis, ed. Arévalo, 2:118 (PL 81:677): Rejiciendum quoque est nonnullorum etymon, Mozarabes dictos, qui modos Christianorum in Arabia existentium in quibusdam ritibus tenerent. (Note that this sentence is based in part on the following phrase in the Divisiones decem, cited earlier in Arévaloâs own text: sunt enim dicti Mozarabes, quod modos Christianorum de Arabia in multis tenebant.)
Although in exile, Arévalo may also have had access to a compilation of Burrielâs letters published as Cartas eruditas y criticas del P. Andrés Marcos Burriel, de la extinguida Compañia de Jesús, ed. Antonio Valladares de Sotomayor (Madrid: Marin, 1775).
The critical notes are in three sections: the âIllustratio Missalis gothici in usum Mozarabumâ (cols 1145â1480) comprise Arévaloâs notes added to Lesleyâs, followed by Lesleyâs âDissertatio De liturgia Gothica et Mozarabicaâ (cols 1147â1210), and finally the âNotae ad Missale Mozarabumâ (cols 1211â1480), annotated with variant readings from Lesley and Sandoval comparing the printed Missale mixtum to early medieval liturgical monuments.
Missale Gothicum, xii: (In festo S. Sperati, vel comitum ejus ix lect. ex Br. Moz.).
Toledo, Biblioteca de Castilla-La Mancha, 1â3709, fol. 385r: La fiesta de nuestro patron Santiago se ha de yavan a 30 de diciembre donde corresponde, segun todos los mss. que aqui se han visto; y se sabe que el colocarla en Julio fue por conformarse el Senor Cisneros con Roma (the feast of our patron Santiago should be on 30 December where it belongs, according to all the manuscripts that have been seen here; and it is known that placing it in July was for Cisneros to conform with Rome). The allusion to consulting multiple manuscripts suggests that this annotation comes from the years in which Burriel was studying the manuscripts in Toledo (1749â56).
For a useful summary of the early evidence for the cult of Saint James see The Miracles and Translatio of Saint James: Books Two and Three of the Liber Sancti Jacobi, trans. Thomas F. Coffey and Maryjane Dunn (New York: Italica Press, 2019), xxviiâxxxv.
Missale Gothicum, col. 1493: non satis constat, quo die Gotho-Hispani hunc Apostolum coluerint.