Sententiarum libri IIII...

by Peter Lombard (Petrus Lombardus) | edited by Jean Aleaume

Paris: Oudin Petit (Audoënus Parvus), 1557

[8], 456, [4] leaves | 8vo | *^8 a-z^8 A-2L^8 2M^4 | 173 x 105 mm

A scholarly edition of a standard university text, the “fundamental book of all medieval theology” (Goldschmidt). This hugely influential work first appeared in print as early as 1471 and went through countless editions before coming to ours. That was plenty of time for it to gather the scholarly features our title claims: “now for the first time truly restored [restituti],” packed with marginal notes and references, an index copiosus at end, as well as some sixty pages of errors condemned by the Paris theologians. Aleaume’s edition first appeared in 1537—possibly 1536, but such copy is lost—and went through dozens more through at least 1566.  ¶  What drew us to this copy is the curious paper label affixed to the lower right of the title page. At just 24 x 24 mm, the image is both smaller than, and lacks the pictorial definition of, typical prints that served traditional devotional purposes (affixed to box lids or household locations, pasted inside book covers, carried on one’s person, etc.). Perhaps it could be a bookplate or similar mark of ownership, but we’d expect a more readily identifiable heraldic motif, if not actual text. And we’d again expect it to be larger. Even the late 16th-century bookplate of Johannes Niedermayer, an outlier both for its small size and simplified image, is more than twice the size of ours and obviously a coat of arms. What’s more, contrary to the prevailing standard among both possibilities, our print is in blue ink. Perhaps it could be some kind of commercial trademark, like those attached to ream wrappers, though it would then seem rather out of a place in a copy of Lombard’s Sentences. ¶ The most likely genre we’ve found is the badge, nearly always made of metal, though paper was also used. The pilgrim badge, perhaps the best known example of the genre, was commonly worn on one’s person, a means to carry with you the protection of the pilgrimage site itself (and to quietly broadcast the news of your accomplishment). Not all badges were pilgrim badges, however. They came in great variety, served multiple purposes, and could be had from many locations. Our small print is certainly the right size and shape for a badge. Many were diamond-shaped, this one falls very nicely in the typical size range, and we know such badges were sometimes affixed to books. Peter Lombard would still seem an unlikely target, as badges were typically fixed within devotional books, and this would be at the tail end of their popularity; badge production trailed off following the Reformation, all but disappearing in the early sixteenth century. The image, too, would certainly be on the simplified and rather abstract end of the badge spectrum, though not entirely without precedent. The Kunera database of late medieval badges, ampullae, and related ornaments boasts many of simple and stylized imagery. The diamond shape is not unlike that created by some flower ornaments (01471, 01473, 07192) or stars (02353), and there are many simple diamond ornaments, frequently used as buckle brooches (25551, 07264, 07281). Those described simply as “celestial bodies” (02566, 02571), a St. Andrew’s Cross (05422), or simply a nail from the Arma Christi (05428) could be quite basic in representation.  ¶ The small gap in our three horizontal lines rather heightens its inscrutability. If the lines were meant to be solid, the gap resulting from a damaged printing block, one might entertain other theories. Perhaps a greatly simplified version of the three fish (05403), or a woodcutter’s rendition of a brooch (22074)? If we really want to exercise our imagination, perhaps an ‘M’ pasted in sideways, which was fairly common and could assume a fairly diamond-like shape (23907, 10057, 13092, 05437). Something heraldic might make the most sense, given its pared-down geometric nature (17224, 17725). If it were shaped as a shield, for example, we might consider it a pilgrim badge from the Basilica of Our Lady of Hanswijk in Mechelen (23391v, 19644v). But, you know, it’s not shaped like a shield. All of these are stretches.  ¶ Still, given its size and shape, our best guess remains a badge in the style of the once ubiquitous late medieval variety. Which, being paper, would make it quite a miraculous survival. Among Kundera’s 26,477 records, only four—just four—are classified as paper (excluding those painted in the margins of manuscripts). Strictly speaking, two of those may be parchment, and all but one were painted, the other embossed on paper with a cast. All to say, we haven’t found any badges printed on paper in the conventional sense. To quote expert Ann Marie Rasmussen: “Those made of extremely perishable materials, such as paper or parchment, are known primarily from written or pictorial sources.”  ¶ Whatever genre of print this might be, badge or not, we think it reasonable to call it rare, and suspect it’s a unique example.

PROVENANCE: There’s a brief contemporary inscription just above the badge that’s been struck through, which annoys us greatly. Possibly ending piageres? Maybe it’s just a name, or maybe it’s the solution to the whole mystery.  ¶ Variations on the same inscription on title, fol. 1r, and at end (De glasi [glati?] qui pure?). Perhaps once a priest’s copy, Le prestre inscribed on the title verso followed by a name we can’t make out (De Balaire?). Scrap of an old French letter laid in at fol. 131. ¶ Small 20th-century sticker in the lower left of the front paste-down (A4).

CONDITION: Early sprinkled leather; boards framed with a double-fillet rolled in blind, spine with blind-tooled fleurons. The label printed in blue on a piece of laid paper 36 x 33 mm. Last two leaves are blank. ¶ Part of the final leaf torn away, taking a couple square inches of text; upper half of the first few gatherings faintly dampstained; title page dusty. Binding a trifle wormed, including at the spine ends, the tail with some loss; head of spine torn at the front joint glued back down; binding extremities worn.

REFERENCES: USTC 204986 ¶ E. Ph. Goldschmidt, Medieval Texts and Their First Appearance in Print (London: Bibliographical Society, 1943), p. 15-16); Ann Marie Rasmussen, Medieval Badges: Their Wearers and Their Worlds (UPenn, 2021), p. 8 (“Such a [paper or parchment] pilgrim badge was probably even cheaper than the already inexpensive lead-tin alloy badges…The oldest medieval badges date from the last decades of the twelfth century. Their number and use increased steadily throughout the High Middle Ages, reaching a high point in the fifteenth century and largely disappearing in the first decades of the sixteenth century following the Reformation…The surviving badges demonstrate that they were made and used in many contexts. There are religious badges, heraldic badges, political badges, civic badges, satirical badges, comical badges, sexual badges, obscene badges. The sheer number of surviving badges and the diverse and wide-ranging contexts both religious and secular that they evoke suggest that badges were ubiquitous, woven tightly into the fabric of ordinary, late medieval life. Their ordinariness is part of what makes them so intriguing now.”), 9 (“Crucially, medieval badges display vivid, easily recognizable images…Because of their distinctive iconographies, nearly always linked to a specific place or to a specific corporate group, it is often possible to determine where a badge was made and acquired. Its image conveys this information.”), 12 (“Displayed on capes and hats as people went about their business, badges were mobile, because they moved through space with their wearers. This mobility meant virtually everyone in Northwestern Europe in the Middle Ages would have encountered badges in some way, and virtually everyone could have afforded one because as mass-produced objects made of easily obtained and widely available materials, they were cheap.”), 13 (“Badges were worn: they were made to be worn, they are shown being worn, and the fact that they are found hundreds of kilometers from the sites to which they refer shows as that they were carried and worn far from their sites of origin.”); Esther Cohen, “In haec signa: Pilgrim-badge trade in southern France,” Journal of Medieval History 2.3 (1976), p. 194 (at pilgrimage sites, “Perhaps the most profitable trade of all was the sale of pilgrims’ badges…Pilgrims brought them home as souvenirs and as testimony of the accomplished pilgrimage…From decorative souvenirs, they became indispensable evidence of a performed pilgrimage. No pilgrim would return home without first having purchased a badge. The same badge, worn on the return journey, ensured its bearer protection from warring armies and other threats of violence.”); Megan H. Foster-Campbell, “Pilgrimage through the Pages: Pilgrims’ Badges in Late Medieval Devotional Manuscripts,” Push Me, Pull You: Imaginative and Emotional Interaction in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art (Brill, 2011), v. 1, p. 227 (“pilgrimage to popular holy shrines peaked in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. To remember their visits, pilgrims often purchased small, inexpensive souvenirs—usually thin, metal badges—which were manufactured and sold near pilgrimage churches. While these souvenirs were frequently worn on clothing, hats, or bags, pilgrims began sewing their badges within the pages of their prayer books by the second half of the fifteenth century. This practice became popular in the Southern Netherlands and Northern France around 1460-70, reaching its peak during the early decades of the sixteenth century.”), 231 (“These badges were in close proximity or perhaps even direct contact with the holy shrine, often by being touched or pressed against the shrine to imbue them with miraculous powers, in effect making the badge a contact relic. When worn by a pilgrim, the souvenir could serve a talismanic or apotropaic function, capable of warding off evil and protecting the individual from harm.”); Hanneke van Asperen, “The Book as Shrine, the Badge as Bookmark: Religious Badges and Pilgrims’ Souvenirs in Devotional Manuscripts,” Domestic Devotions in the Early Modern World (Brill, 2019), p. 308 (“although most badges in books are pilgrimage souvenirs, not all of them are…They provided devotees with a cult image—a reliquary, a miracle-working statue or icon—connected with a specific site”); Ilse O’Dell, Deutsche und Österreichische Exlibris 1500-1599 im Britischen Museum (British Museum, 2003), p. 68, 190 (description and reproduction of the Niedermayer bookplate)

Item #512