Figure 4.1 The Schöllenbach Altarpiece, Early Sixteenth Century, Hubert Chapel, Erbach Castle, Erbach im Odenwald, Hesse
(Size: 413 × 530 × 64 cm) (Photo: ©Christine Krienke 2010, Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hessen)
Previous chapters have explored the late medieval use of Tree of Jesse iconography, through its inclusion as a prefiguration of the Birth of the Virgin in the Speculum humanae salvationis, the subsequent appropriation of the subject by those keen to promote devotion to Saint Anne and its adoption by religious orders to meet their own specific needs. Those chapters looked at a range of works, often in different media, in an attempt to ascertain both the purpose of the imagery and the scope of renewed interest in the subject. This chapter will focus on only one work, the magnifi-cent Schöllenbach altarpiece, exploring its provenance and function to provide a better understanding of exactly why the Tree of Jesse motif might have been employed by an individual patron in the early sixteenth century, and, more generally, how it could have been understood by a wider audience (Figure 4.1).
The choice of this altarpiece was determined largely by the unusual circumstances of its survival: although vast and impressive, it has remained for the most part in the possession of the family who commissioned it, and, to date, has received little scholarly attention.1 Currently on display in the Hubert Chapel of Erbach Castle, situated in the Odenwald region of southern Germany, it is believed that the altarpiece was originally intended for the fifteenth-century church of Schöllenbach, approximately twenty kilometres to the south-east of the castle, and once part of the estate of the Counts of Erbach. In 2005 the state of Hessen bought Erbach Castle and its contents from the Erbach family, and in 2006 the decision was made to undertake a full-scale restoration of the altarpiece. This took four years to complete, and removal of dirt and over-painting revealed that it was once of extremely high quality.2 The discovery of an unknown painting on the back of the caisse has enabled a more precise dating of the work, thereby allowing for comparisons to be made with other altarpieces, and a possible link with an Ulm-based workshop is explored. After establishing the provenance and original appearance of the altarpiece, a thorough examination of the iconography within a historical framework allows for certain conclusions to be drawn regarding the particular environment of its commission. Building on previous research conducted by Elspeth de Weerth in 1982, it is suggested that in addition to making a statement about the donor’s authority, wealth and status, the subject matter can be seen to reflect the more fundamental needs of pilgrims, who may have visited Schöllenbach to pray for the miracle of new life and the safe delivery of healthy children.3
Figure 4.1 The Schöllenbach Altarpiece, Early Sixteenth Century, Hubert Chapel, Erbach Castle, Erbach im Odenwald, Hesse
(Size: 413 × 530 × 64 cm) (Photo: ©Christine Krienke 2010, Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hessen)
The construction of the church of Schöllenbach in the latter part of the fifteenth century was instigated by Philipp von Erbach (1424–1477), who appears to have been primarily motivated by the desire to house a miraculous image of the Virgin. Although this image is now lost, reference to the work, and to the volume of pilgrims who visited it, can be found in the chronicles of the Erbach family, compiled by Daniel Schneider in 1736.4 Schneider’s source was a Latin document, dated the 19th October, 1474, which confirms the foundation of the church on behalf of the archbishop of Mainz.5 This document discusses Count Philipp von Erbach’s request to establish a fund to build a church dedicated to the Virgin at Schöllenbach, which it states had become necessary due to the large number of visitors who came to worship an image of the Virgin, bringing with them gifts and offerings.6 The fund, which was to be supplemented by visitors to the shrine, was also to provide for a priest, who would live in the village and work exclusively for the church.
Although only the choir stands today, the architectural remains indicate that the church would have once consisted of three aisles, with three bays on either side. This structure would have been a relatively large building for such a small village, which Schneider believes can only be explained by the fact that it must have catered for a large number of pilgrims.7 Although it seems that the main attraction was the image of the Virgin, the church was also built over the source of a miracle spring. According to Schneider, this spring was originally accessed from inside the church via a well behind the altar, although it currently comes out at the side of the church and is caught in a stone basin. Schneider states that there were several old legends that attested to the healing power of the water from this spring, and it seems likely that it was used to reinforce the pilgrim’s prayers and formed part of the pilgrimage ritual.8 A door in the northern choir wall, which is now closed off, may once have been where the pilgrims exited the church after processing around the altar to visit the well.
Schöllenbach was by no means unique: prior to the Reformation, the Odenwald was home to many such miracle springs, with some of the earliest pilgrimage sites traced as far back as the eighth and ninth centuries.9 It seems, however, that these sites reached a particular peak in popularity during the second half of the fifteenth century, when, according to Arnold Angenendt, a ‘veritable pilgrimage fever’ had broken out all over Europe.10 Although the most prestigious pilgrimages were to Jerusalem or Mount Sinai, these journeys were an expensive and time consuming undertaking, and consequently more accessible local sites became extremely fashionable, creating a network of pilgrimage routes.11 Although Schöllenbach now seems rather remote, it was once situated along one of these major routes, which connected the sites of Güttersbach and Walldürn. The church of Saint Maria in Güttersbach stands on the site of a thirteenth-century miracle spring.12 Walldürn, however, did not become a major destination for pilgrims until 1445, when Pope Eugene IV confirmed the miracle of the Holy Blood.13 The steady stream of pilgrims between Gütters-bach and Walldürn during the second half of the fifteenth century must have meant that smaller healing shrines along this route prospered significantly from the passing trade. This argument is supported by the fact that although many of these sites originally had small Romanesque churches, the majority were replaced during the fifteenth century with larger Gothic structures. These constructions have subsequently either been modernised or lie in ruins, resulting in the loss of their furnishings and often concealing their original function.14
Evidence that the altarpiece was originally commissioned by the Erbach family in the sixteenth century is provided by the presence of the donors’ coats of arms in the predella. On the viewer’s left are the arms of the Erbach family and, on the right, are those of the Wertheims. Consequently, it is assumed that these relate to the marriage of Eberhard von Erbach (1475–1539) to Maria von Wertheim (1485–1553), which took place on the 7th August, 1503.15 As the couple were cousins, a dispensation had to be granted by the pope, which was received on the 7th May in the same year.16 Evidence that it was commissioned specifically for the high altar of the church at Schöllenbach is supported by a document in the Erbach archives, a receipt that records a payment made to a priest, who was sent to Schöllenbach by Count George von Erbach (1548–1605) in 1601 to establish the condition of the work.17 In addition, the monumental size of the altarpiece makes it far too large for the castle chapel, where it currently has to sit on the floor against the long wall of the nave. Following the Reformation, there was a decline in the number of pilgrims visiting Schöllenbach, and in the early seventeenth century the retable was moved to the newly built Fried-hofskirche, the cemetery church in Erbach.18 It remained there until 1872, when it was bought back by the then Count Eberhard von Erbach for 500 florins, and placed in the Hubert Chapel.19
The monumental scale of the altarpiece, which measures with its wings open 413 × 530 cm, is comparable to other monumental southern German works of the period, such as the renowned Holy Blood altarpiece by Tilman Riemenschneider, or the equally acclaimed altarpiece on the high altar of the former abbey church of Saint John the Baptist, Blaubeuren.20 It consists of a predella, an almost square central shrine with raised centre and two movable wings, a shape that is also consistent with other southern German retables of the period.21 It appears to be made up of two types of wood: the frame is constructed in pine, while the sculptures and reliefs on the wings, as far as can be ascertained, are carved out of limewood. Once again, this is consistent with a southern German origin, as a school of sculptors specialising in limewood carving blossomed in Southern Germany in the fifty years between 1475 and 1525.22 Pine for the frame was also readily available from the Tirol, on the alpine southern edge of Germany.23
The sides of the caisse have hinge fixtures which appear authentic, and the wings have been constructed in the same way as the caisse, suggesting that they are also original to the work.24 Drill holes in the upper part of the frame indicate that the altar-piece once had a crowning superstructure, known as a Gesprenge, a carved wooden canopy made up of vaultings, finials and foliage, which were all typical of southern German production of this period.25 For the choir of the Schöllenbach church to have accommodated the height of the altarpiece with its lost superstructure, it must have once been vaulted. This is corroborated by the discovery of residual stones at the site by Elspeth de Weerth, which, she has established, originally supported a high vault.26 With its crowning superstructure, the altarpiece would have therefore filled the choir, making a significant impression on anyone who visited the church.
It is not only the physical structure of the altarpiece which indicates a southern German origin for the work. Christiane Haeseler’s technical investigation has shown that the appearance of the altarpiece has altered considerably, and that it would have once been comparable to other high quality works of the region. An unusually thick isolation layer on top of the chalk ground, under the painted costumes of the figures and branches of the tree, was identified; this would have been particularly sensitive to changes in temperature and humidity, causing the paint layer to flake off. Consequently, not only has the altarpiece been extensively over-painted, but leaf gold, which had been widely used on the costumes, was largely replaced with flat gilding in the nineteenth century, resulting in a loss of plasticity. In addition, it is apparent from other remaining fragments that gilding elsewhere would have once been considerably more sophisticated. The matt gilding of the trunk of the tree, for example, once contrasted with the burnished gilding of other elements, such as the leaves, coats and crowns of the kings. As remnants of both leaf gold and silver have been found under the over-paint on the headdresses and hair of the figures in the central shrine and on the wings, it would seem that several parts that are now covered in paint would have also once been gilded. Other decorative techniques, such as the use of lustres in red and green, sgraffito engraving, the application of press brocades and gilded paper pieces were also used to embellish the dress of the carved figures and reliefs, although to a great extent these decorations are now lost or concealed. All these techniques can be found on other southern German altarpieces of the late-fifteenth and early-sixteenth centuries.27
Despite all the nineteenth-century over-painting, the polychromy on the faces and hands of the figures in the central shrine, and on the reliefs of the interior wings, is predominantly original.28 The application of several thin layers of paint brought these figures to life, and the Virgin’s face and some of the other female figures would have originally had a further pale finishing layer, which would have made them appear less red in colour.29 In addition, the painting in the background of the relief panels of the interior wings, some of it partially hidden by tracery, is also mostly original.30
Although the paint layer is damaged, all the carved figures in the centre of the caisse and predella, as well as the reliefs on the interior wings, are intact.31 The decorative carving on the clothing of the wing figures is similar to the decorative carving on the sculptured figures in the centre of the caisse, indicating that all the elements of the altarpiece were probably constructed in the same workshop. However, it is possible to discern different hands in the carvings of the central figures, and overall the quality of the carving is varied. Unfortunately, parts of the frame have been lost along with the superstructure, and from grooves on the upper front edge, and evidence of a previous locking mechanism, it would appear that a wooden panel inserted sideways would have once been used to cover the predella caisse when the altarpiece was closed.32
When the altarpiece was removed from the Hubert Chapel in 2006, a previously unknown painting on the back of the predella was revealed (Figure 4.2). There is no evidence that this painting received any nineteenth-century restoration, and it is in a poor state of preservation. Nevertheless, it is apparent that it once depicted Christ’s face on a veil held aloft by hovering angels. Known as the Veil of Veronica or Sudarium, Rainer Kahsnitz has shown that this was a popular subject for the back wall of predellas of southern German altarpieces of this period.33 As Diana Webb has discussed, this Veronica image also had a strong, although not exclusive, pilgrimage association and was often represented on pilgrims’ badges.34 This may be a further indication that the faithful walked behind the altar as they processed through the Schöllenbach church, on their way to and from the miracle spring located behind the altar. If this was the case, the back of the predella, sitting on the altar, would have been at approximately eye level.
Figure 4.2
The Schöllenbach Altarpiece, Painting on Back of Predella
(Size: 95 × 330 × 64 cm) (Photo: ©Christine Krienke 2010, Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hessen)
The fictive architectural details on the upper corners of the predella painting are decorated with all’antica festoons and putti, which contrast with the painted carvings and relief backgrounds of the shrine. Even so, similarities in technique suggest that they are contemporaneous with the rest of the decoration.35 Above the painting are the initials ‘HP’ and the letters ‘MCCCCCXV’ (1515), which may be the date of completion of the altarpiece and the monogram of the artist.36 Although the style of the painting suggests an artist with knowledge of Italian painting, no artist with the initials HP has been identified, and it was commonplace from 1510 onwards to find an Italianate style, consisting of putti, garlands and other ornaments, incorporated in southern German limewood altarpieces.37
The physical evidence considered so far confirms that the Schöllenbach altarpiece is a fairly typical example of good quality southern German workshop production of the late-medieval period, and that all elements of the work, apart from the over-painting, are original. It is also likely that the earliest date for its commission was 1503, the date of the marriage of Eberhard von Erbach to Maria von Wertheim. However, it might not have actually been received by the church until 1515, if the date on the back on the predella is taken as a terminus post quem. Attribution to a specific workshop has, however, not been possible, although there may be some indication of an Ulm origin.
In 1931 Rudolph Schnellbach specifically mentioned the Schöllenbach altarpiece in his chapter on works of Swabian derivation.38 He suggested that the style of the carving may indicate a Würzburgian workshop, comparing the sculpture of the Madonna and Child in the central shrine to that of Riemenshneider’s stone Virgin and Child in Frankfurt (Figure 4.3).39 However, although general similarities in pose and style can be observed, these tendencies appear to have become relatively standard when depicting the Virgin and Child in southern German altarpieces of the period. A closer comparison, in terms of facial features and the construction of the draperies, can perhaps be made with the work of Niklaus Weckmann, who was based in Ulm in the early sixteenth century (Figure 4.4). Ulm was an important local centre for limewood carving, and although Erbach lies approximately two hundred and fifty kilometres to the north, it is still possible that the altarpiece could have been commissioned from one of the specialised craftsmen in the city.40
The possibility of an Ulm origin is supported by further comparisons with the Blaubeuren altarpiece, a polyptych attributed to the Ulm-based carver Michel Erhart and his son, Gregor. Michel Erhart first appears as Michel, bildhower in the Ulm tax rolls of 1469, and is identified again in 1522, when he receives a charitable pension.41 During this period, he was the most prominent sculptor in the Ulm records, and his workshop was the source of some of the most distinguished wooden carving in the region. The Blaubeuren altarpiece, a work of exceptional quality, was completed in 1494 for the wealthy Benedictine abbey church of Saint John the Baptist in Blaubeuren, less than eight kilometres from Ulm (Figure 4.5).42 As previously stated, both altarpieces are of a similarly large size and have a comparable format, with a raised central shrine. In addition, both were designed to have predellas with the unusual front sliding closing panel. It seems plausible to assume, therefore, that the patrons of the Schöllenbach altarpiece were aware of the work of Michel Erhart and the Blaubeuren altarpiece and desired something of a similar nature for their church.
A link with the Blaubeuren altarpiece can be substantiated further by a curious iconographical detail that has gone unnoticed to date. On one of the painted panels from the Blaubeuren wings, attributed to the Ulm-based artist Bartholomäus Zeitblom, a servant can be seen testing the temperature of the water with her foot, prior to bathing the newborn John the Baptist (Figure 4.6).43 This action is imitated by the servant preparing to bathe the newborn Mary on the Schöllenbach wings. The earliest known representation of this detail appears on a
Figure 4.3 Virgin and Child, Sandstone, Tilman Riemenschneider, c.1520
(Height: 156.5 cm) © Liebieghaus Skulpturen Sammlung, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: Rühl & Bormann)
Figure 4.4 Detail of the Virgin and Child From the Rother Altarpiece, Workshop of Niklaus Weckmann, c.1481–1528
©Reiss-Engelhorn-Museen, Mannheim (Photo: Jean Christen)
Figure 4.5 The Blaubeuren Altarpiece, Michel and Gregor Erhart, c.1494, Former Abbey Church of Saint John the Baptist, Blaubeuren
(Size: 570 × 805 cm including predella) (Photo: © Achim Bunz)
panel attributed to Conrad Laib in the Palazzo Vescovile Museum in Padua, originally thought to have come from the wings of the Salzburg Altarpiece of 1449.44 Although he was active in Salzburg in the mid-fifteenth century, Laib was born in Ensingen, not far from Heilbronn, and he may have been the source for what appears to be a particularly southern German iconographical invention. In 1493, at approximately the same time that he was working on the Blaubeuren altarpiece, Michel Erhart was also collaborating with Hans Holbein the Elder on the Weingarten Altarpiece, for the chapel of the Virgin in the Benedictine monastery of Weingarten, south of Ulm. The Birth of the Virgin panel on the painted wings from this work, currently displayed in Augsburg Cathedral, also features the servant testing the temperature of the water with her foot (Figure 4.7).
Figure 4.6
Detail, Birth of the John the Baptist, Left Wing of the Blaubeuren Altarpiece, Bartholomäus Zeitblom, c.1494
(Photo: © Achim Bunz)
Figure 4.7 Detail, Birth of the Virgin, From the Weingarten Altarpiece Wings, Hans Holbein the Elder, c.1493, Augsburg Cathedral
© Bisch. Finanzkammer Augsburg, Kirchl. Bauwesen und Kunst
It seems likely, therefore, that the sculptor responsible for the reliefs on the Schöllen-bach altarpiece was aware of the Blaubeuren and/or Weingarten works, and may have even been involved in their creation.45
Whilst it has not been possible to identify the name of a particular sculptor, the conception and quality of the Schöllenbach altarpiece is clearly of a high standard, indicating a commission by a wealthy patron, from a leading southern German workshop.
The exteriors of the wings had sustained such large losses by the nineteenth century that they were completely over-painted with thick brown paint, which was applied again in the twentieth century. Removal of these layers during the recent restoration revealed the remnants of a large Annunciation scene that had been mentioned by Schneider in the eighteenth century.46 The remaining fragments on the left wing feature parts of the face and wings of the angel Gabriel, and a speech banner with letters from his salutation ‘Ave Maria Gratia Plena Dominus Tecum’. Some architectural details were also discovered. The right wing would have originally depicted the kneeling Virgin at her prie dieu, although only small pieces of her face, hair and dress remain, along with fragments of the room. Nevertheless, despite severe losses, similarities in technique indicate that the exterior wings were executed at the same time as the painting on the rest of the altarpiece. For example, when comparing Gabriel’s eye with the eye of the angel on the back of the predella, and the original polychromy of one of the king’s eyes from the centre of the shrine, all exhibit the same thickly contoured irises, fine lashes and reflections of light.47
The predella raises the main body of the altarpiece so that the wings can be more easily moved, and these wings also have a raised portion to allow for a full closing of the central shrine. A bearded Jesse lies on his right side asleep on the floor of the predella, his head resting in his hand. The root of the tree grows up from his breast, the trunk rising up into the central shrine to culminate in a flower blossom. This blossom supports a crowned Virgin, standing on a crescent moon; she holds the naked Christ Child in her arms and is surrounded by a mandorla. The Christ Child has an orb in his left hand and raises his right hand in a gesture of benediction. Branches of the tree support the half figures of twelve kings in flower blossoms; all are crowned and carry sceptres, but only David can be positively identified by his harp. The kings are depicted as young and old, and their characterisation is both rich and varied, their gestures and head positions suggesting that they were conceived of in pairs. Two other branches come off the root in the predella to point to half figures in the corners; the first can be identified by his horns as Moses and, the second, who wears a mitre, is probably meant to represent Aaron, the elder brother of Moses.48 Examination of the figures indicates that they would have once held objects: in all likelihood, Aaron would have held a crosier, and Moses either a scroll or the tablets of the law.
The tracery that frames the central shrine and decorates the upper portion is fashioned into branches with tendrils. This decoration is carried over to the interior of the wings, and is used to subdivide the iconographic narrative into individual scenes relating to the Life of the Virgin. These narrative panels consist of low-relief wooden sculptures and background painting. The sequence begins at the top of the left wing with the Meeting of Saint Anne and Joachim at the Golden Gate, and includes a vignette of the Annunciation to Joachim in the background. This sequence is followed by the Birth of the Virgin and, beneath these scenes, the Presentation of the Virgin and the Annunciation. The narrative continues, on the interior of the lower half of the right wing, with the Visitation, to the left, and Purification of the Virgin, on the right. The crescent moon on Aaron’s mitre, in the predella, is replicated on the mitres of the priests in the Purification of the Virgin and the Presentation of the Virgin reliefs, denoting that all are high priests of the Old Law.49 The upper part of the right wing depicts the Death of the Virgin across both sections, with a half figure of God the Father in the uppermost part. Under God the Father, there must have once been a small figural representation of the soul of the Virgin, although now only her fingers remain clasped in God’s right hand. The narrative therefore reads chronologically, from left to right and top to bottom in the left wing, but left to right, bottom to top, in the right wing. This unusual arrangement must have been partly necessitated by the need to place God the Father at the top of the open altarpiece, on a level with the crowned Virgin in the raised centre. It is also a practical solution to the rather awkward shape of the upper wings.
It has been established that the Schöllenbach altarpiece was commissioned from a southern German, possibly Ulm-based workshop, by a member of the Erbach family in the early sixteenth century. However, an explanation for the choice of subject matter is more difficult to determine.50 Several late-medieval examples of Tree of Jesse iconography can be found near Schöllenbach, such as the c.1515 stone relief from the demolished cloister of the cathedral of Saint Peter in Worms, or the stained glass windows by Peter Hemmel von Andlau, in both Ulm Münster (c.1480) and the collegiate church of Saint George in Tübingen (c.1478). In southern German carved altarpieces of this date, however, the iconography was usually employed as a secondary subject, primarily restricted to the predella and, due to its organic nature, sometimes extending upwards to frame part of the central shrine.51 This then raises the question of why the Erbachs would have chosen traditional Tree of Jesse iconography as the main subject for their large and expensive altarpiece. As a representation of genealogy, one possible solution lies in the integral meaning of the iconography itself.
The use of the Tree of Jesse as a way of expressing and validating noble pedigree has a long history, and images of this iconography were often used in civic triumphs, as representations of a king’s messianic heritage.52 The twelfth-century Tree of Jesse window at Saint Denis is often cited as an example of Capetian royal propaganda, and the window at Chartres, some years later, has been linked to Louis VII.53 It has been argued that the Tree of Jesse was being used in these early windows to confirm the legitimacy of succession. Later images, such as the fifteenth-century Tree of Jesse window in the axial chapel of Évreux Cathedral (1465–70), have also been seen in a royal context, establishing an analogy between divine and temporal royalty, whilst still honouring the Virgin and her Son.54 Given this association, the donors of the Schöllenbach altarpiece may have also deliberately employed the motif as a means of communicating their own distinguished lineage.
Interest in genealogy had reached new heights in Germany in the early sixteenth century, with an enormous number of family trees produced for the Emperor Maximilian between 1500 and 1518.55 Many of these have a visual relationship with the Tree of Jesse, and a manuscript biography of Maximilian dated c.1508–10, the Historia Friderici et Maximiliani (Hs.Blau 9, fol.6r, Haus-Hof-und Staatsarchive, Vienna), actually begins with a Hapsburg family tree that is clearly derived from Tree of Jesse iconography. Maximilian’s interest in genealogy is further exemplified by his commission of a tomb for his wife, Mary of Burgundy (d.1482), which was installed in the church of Notre Dame, in Bruges, by late 1501. The genealogical trees that decorate the long sides of this tomb can be seen as a legitimisation of Mary’s claim to the Burgundian inheritance from her father, Charles the Bold, in the face of controversy over the regency of her husband in Flanders during her son’s minority.56 Visual parallels with the Tree of Jesse are again apparent and, as Ann Roberts has discussed, this was not the only instance where the iconography was used to create an association between Mary of Burgundy and the Virgin. Although the genealogies created for the Emperor Maximilian are not traditional Tree of Jesse images, their association is obvious, and it is unsurprising that an aristocratic family would seek to mimic and capitalise on this established relationship, using Tree of Jesse and related iconography in conjunction with their own coat of arms to subtly convey their authority and right to govern their estates.57 This is especially pertinent when we consider that the only son and heir of Count Philipp von Erbach, Erasmus, died in 1503 without any male heirs, a fact that has been overlooked in the previous literature.58 Consequently, Eberhard von Erbach had inherited the Schöllenbach title and lands indirectly, and his estate was further extended through his marriage to Maria von Wertheim in the same year.
The Erbach family laid claim to a distinguished pedigree, maintaining that they were descended from Einhard, Charlemagne’s biographer, who, according to legend, had married Charlemagne’s daughter Imma.59 The family could therefore trace themselves back to the Holy Roman Emperor himself. The earliest known record of this claim appears as a dedication in a printed copy of the Vita et Gesti Karoli Magn i (Life and Achievements of Charlemagne), which belonged to George von Erbach (1506–96), the son of the altarpiece’s donors, Eberhard and Maria.60 On the altarpiece itself, the coats of arms of Eberhard and Maria are always visible, even when the altarpiece is closed and, when open, the tracery that surrounds them in the form of branches creates a visual link with Jesse and the ancestors of Christ. It seems, therefore, that the Schöllenbach altarpiece was intentionally designed to reflect the status, wealth and power of the Erbach family, albeit within a pious setting.
In addition to this dynastic element, the iconography of the wings is a celebration of the Life of the Virgin, in accordance with the dedication of the church, and commemorates the main Marian feasts: the Conception of the Virgin, the Birth of the Virgin, the Presentation of the Virgin, the Annunciation, the Visitation of the Virgin and the Purification of the Virgin. The most important feast of all, the Assumption of the Virgin, is alluded to by the inclusion of the Dormition, which is given particular prominence on the right wing. The Virgin’s central position, at the top of the Tree of Jesse, confirms her Davidic descent and status as mother of God. Although, as we have seen in previous chapters, it is not unusual to find several of these events depicted alongside Tree of Jesse iconography in other works of the period, the choice of icono-graphic programme for this altarpiece may have been influenced by the pilgrimage status of Schöllenbach itself.
It seems that pilgrims may have gone to Schöllenbach predominantly to pray for the wellbeing of their families, and to ask to be blessed with many children. Among all ranks of society the main reason for marriage was the procreation of children. A successful marriage meant many children, yet infant mortality rates were high.61 Schneider states that the water at Schöllenbach was reputed by old legends not only to be good for headaches and eye problems, but also children’s illnesses, while Max Walter claims that the water was attributed, more specifically, with the power to aid fecundity.62 The Tree of Jesse, as a representation of holy genealogy, is therefore highly appropriate, and it may even have been seen by a contemporary audience as an image of fecundity itself. This hypothesis is supported by the additional narrative scenes on the wings, particularly the Meeting of Saint Anne and Joachim at the Golden Gate on the left wing, which relates to the conception of the Virgin. The presence of Saint Anne, an older woman who had conceived, is clearly pertinent, and, as we saw in Chapter Two, Saint Anne also had a strong association with pregnancy and childbirth. This can be further demonstrated by local custom. For example, in Düren women would put an Anne girdle around their waists, either to protect their unborn child or to promote pregnancy, while in other places, women were said to pray for a child before an altar with an image of Saint Anne.63 A prayer said for parturient women even references the root of Jesse and Saint Anne.64 The scene of the Visitation may have also been perceived as particularly relevant. According to Saint Luke, Elizabeth conceived a son in her old age, thereby demonstrating to the devout pilgrim that the miracle of conception was possible, even among those presumed to be barren.65 It is unusual to see Elizabeth, rather than the Virgin, placed on the heraldic right, and this may be a further indication of her importance in this particular work.66 Although little is known about the gender breakdown of pilgrims, it would seem that whilst men considerably outnumbered women on long-distance pilgrimages, the situation was very different at local shrines.67 Nevertheless, both men and women would have been attracted to the miracle spring at Schöllenbach, as it was in the interests of both parties in a patriarchal society to bear healthy children and secure heirs. This subject is also one that would have been close to the hearts of Eberhard and Maria Erbach, who, as cousins, could have been concerned about the birth of healthy offspring to continue the family line. The depiction of the midwife with her foot in the bath may even relate to the idea of a pilgrims’ footbath, and could also be an oblique reference to Schöllenbach’s spring.68
The Annunciation scene that was once depicted on the outside of the wings is not unusual, and was a popular choice for the exteriors of both Netherlandish and southern German altarpieces.69 As the feast of the Annunciation usually fell during Lent, when the altarpiece remained closed, it was considered particularly appropriate.70 However, the subject can also be seen to relate to ideas of conception and childbirth. Assuming that the Schöllenbach work had a similar liturgical function to other altar-pieces, and was opened only on feast days and Sundays, the view most commonly seen by the pilgrims was the Annunciation. This was relevant to all those who came to Schöllenbach seeking the miracle of new life, as the Annunciation was perceived as the beginning of the Incarnation, the point at which God assumed his human form as Jesus Christ. It is, therefore, also the moment of the Virgin’s conception of her Divine Son. The fact that the Annunciation is repeated, on the interior of the left wing, is a further indication that this event, in particular, must have been considered of special importance to the donors, who presumably had masses said on their behalf by the priest in front of the altar.
The success of the Schöllenbach altarpiece is evidenced by the survival of a considerably smaller retable in the pilgrimage chapel of Amorsbrunn, the site of another miraculous spring approximately forty kilometres from Schöllenbach. This altar-piece, thought to have been acquired when the chapel was remodelled in 1521, also features Tree of Jesse iconography in its central shrine (Figure 4.8). The Erbach family are not known to have been involved in any commissions for the chapel, nor are they connected with Amorsbrunn, which came under the jurisdiction
Figure 4.8
The Amorsbrunn Altarpiece, Sixteenth Century, Amorsbrunn Chapel
(Size: 375 × 365 cm) (Photo: Susan Green)
of Amorbach Abbey.71 Therefore, it is plausible that the reason for the similarity in design is linked to the pilgrimage status of the chapel itself. Pilgrimage was an extremely profitable business; if pilgrims were bypassing Amorsbrunn in favour of Schöllenbach, this may well have motivated the administrators of the Amorsbrunn Chapel to acquire a similar altarpiece for their new high altar, hoping to imply that their miracle spring was just as efficacious as their neighbour’s.
Analysis of the physical evidence confirms that the Schöllenbach altarpiece was commissioned by Eberhard and Maria von Erbach from a southern German workshop in the early sixteenth century. It is similar in several respects to other southern German retables of the period, and its form and style may specifically indicate an Ulm origin. Although representations of the Tree of Jesse can be found on other retables in the region, its choice as the primary subject matter to decorate Schöllen-bach’s high altar was clearly deliberate. Schöllenbach church was a popular site on a major pilgrimage route, and the size and iconography of its altarpiece were designed to make a significant impression on its visitors, connecting with both their spiritual and physical needs. The reputation of the miracle spring as an aid to fecundity is reflected not only in the Tree of Jesse motif itself, but also in the emphasis on Saint Elizabeth, and the inclusion of Saint Anne on the interior wings. Childlessness was thought to reflect some kind of hidden sin, yet there were several dangers and complications associated with giving birth, and it is unsurprising that women prayed to the holy Mothers to intercede on their behalf. The Annunciation scene on the exterior would have also had a special resonance for those who visited Schöllenbach to pray for the miracle of new life.
Aristocratic dynasties depended largely on their ability to make marital matches that would strengthen kinship ties as well as provide male heirs to inherit land and titles. In 1503, Eberhard von Erbach had indirectly inherited the title and lands of the Schöllenbach estate, and his marriage to his cousin, Maria von Wertheim, in the same year, extended his property and authority even further. Therefore, the use of Tree of Jesse imagery may also have been intended as an analogy, expressing the donor’s distinguished lineage by association with the ancestors of Christ and, more particularly, confirming Eberhard’s right to rule over Schöllenbach and its neighbouring lands. Consequently, it seems that the large and expensive Schöllenbach altarpiece was not only making a major statement about the Erbach family’s wealth, but its iconography had layers of meaning, and was able to fulfil two specific functions.
The use of Tree of Jesse iconography as the subject matter for German carved altar-pieces was not unique. The following chapter will consider why the Tree of Jesse also became a particular speciality of Antwerp workshops in the early sixteenth century.
1. The altarpiece was the subject of an article by this author in 2015, see Susan L. Green, ‘Pre-Reformation Patronage and Pilgrimage in Southern Germany: An Investigation into the Origin and Function of the Schöllenbach Altarpiece’, Immediations, Vol. 3, No. 4 (2015), 68–88.
2. I am extremely grateful to Christiane Haeseler at the Landesamt für Denkmalpflege for allowing me access to the altarpiece during restoration and for sharing her findings with me. A summary of her report has been published in Denkmalpflege Kulturgeschichte, Herausgegeben vom Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hesse, 4–2010, 2–8.
3. Elspeth de Weerth studied the Schöllenbach altarpiece for her master’s thesis, which was completed in Frankfurt am Main in 1982. An article based on this research, ‘Das Schöllenbacher Wurzel Jesse Retabel’, was published in Kunst in Hessen und am Mittelrhein (2005/NF 1), 77–91.
4. Daniel Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachische Stammtafel nebst deren Erklär—und Bewährungen oder hochgräflich Erbachische Historia (Frankfurt am Main, 1736), 280.
5. Although the original of this document is now lost, Schneider transcribed it in his Appendix. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachische Stammtafel, 540–543.
6. ‘Sane pro parte Nobilis viri Philippi pincerne Domini in Erpach nepotis nostri fidelis dilecti nobis fuit expositum qualiter disposicione divina in villa Schelinbach infra limites & ter-minos ecclesie Parochialis five Pastorie Buernfelden nostre dyocesis ex devocione quam Christi fideles ad gloriosam dei genetricem intemeratam semper virginem Mariam gerunt ad imaginem ejusdem virginis concursus fuerit & f[s?]it populi fidelis cum suis oblationibus & offertoriis unde ipse’.
7. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachische Stammtafel, 280. ‘Die Größe des Gebäudes und seine ganze Einrichtung bezeuget, daß der Zulauff dahin groß gewesen seyn müsse’.
8. Schneider suggests that there were also contemporary eighteenth-century accounts of the healing power of the water. ‘Man weiβ viel Wunders von der Würckung dieses Wassers, an alt hergebrachten Sagen zu erzehlen, und will auch neuere Exempel von ein= und andere dadurch geschehener heilung derer Krancken wissen’.
9. For a discussion of pilgrimage sites in the Odenwald see Norbert Wand, Mittelalterliche Einsiedeleien, Quellheiligtümer und Wallfahrtsstätten im Odenwald (Heppenheim: Arbeitsgemeinschaft der Geschichts und Heimatvereine im Kreis Bergstraße, 1995).
10. Arnold Angenendt, ‘Relics and Their Veneration’, in Martina Bagnoli et al. eds., Treasures of Heaven: Saints, Relics and Devotion in Medieval Europe, The British Museum Exh. Cat. (London: British Museum Press, 2011), 23.
11. For a general discussion of pilgrimage during the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries see Angenendt, ‘Relics and their Veneration’ and Diana Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage (New York: Palgrave, 2002). For Germany see: Christian Schreiber, Wallfahrten durchs deutsche Land; eine Pilgerfahrt zu Deutschlands heiligen Stätten (Berlin, 1928); Klaus Hemmerle et al., Wallfahrt im Rheinland, herausgegeben vom Amt fü r Rheinische Landeskunde in Verbindung mit dem Volkskunderat Rhein-Maas und dem Niederrheinischen Freilichtmuseum, Exh. Cat. (Köln and Bonn: Rheinland-Verlag and In Kommission bei R. Habelt, 1981), and Philip M. Soergel, ‘Bavaria and Its Pilgrimages in the Later Middle Ages’, in Wondrous In His Saints: Counter-Reformation Propaganda in Bavaria (Berkeley and London: University of California Press, 1993).
12. Wand, Mittelalterliche Einsiedeleien, 51–54.
13. The relic of the corporal (the small cloth upon which the host and chalice rest during the Mass) in the church of Saint George is still the third largest pilgrimage destination in Germany. It is believed that in the fourteenth century a priest accidentally overturned the consecrated wine onto the corporal, which then formed an image of the crucified Christ.
14. For examples see Wand, Mittelalterliche Einsiedeleien, 41–46.
15. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachsche Stammtafel, 281 and 153.
16. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachsche Stammtafel, 153. Schneider states that they were related by the third degree in church calculations.
17. Weerth ‘Das Schöllenbacher Wurzel Jesse Retabel’, 84.
18. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachische Stammtafel, 281. Further entries for the altarpiece in the nineteenth century can be found in the Erbach archives, however many documents were destroyed by fire in 1893 and further losses were incurred in 1944 when much of the Erbach archive, which had been moved to the State archive of Hessen in 1932, was destroyed.
19. Weerth, ‘Das Schöllenbacher Wurzel Jesse Retabel’, 84, n.32.
20. The Holy Blood altarpiece in Rothenburg ob de Tauber measures, when open, 378 × 417 cm and the Blaubeuren altarpiece measures 570 × 805 cm (including predellas).
21. Rainer Kahsnitz states that that this format became popular for southern German altar-pieces, particularly along the upper Rhine. Kahsnitz and Bunz, Carved Altarpieces, Masterpieces of the Late Gothic, 34. He also states that reliefs on movable wings became increasingly common during this period, 136.
22. The area was particularly known for the Sommerlinde species, the broad-leaved lime, which was not only faster growing and bigger, but also marginally softer and lighter than the small-leaved variety. See Michael Baxandall, The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1980), 1–28.
23. Many altarpieces of this period employ oak for the caisse, which was imported into northern Germany from the east Baltic and is more robust than pine or limewood. Pine however, which is lighter than oak, may have been preferable in this instance due to the extremely large size of the work.
24. The top edges of the wings have been slightly shaved; this was probably done in the nineteenth century, when the altarpiece was installed in the Hubert Chapel.
25. See Kahsnitz and Bunz, Carved Altarpieces, for many other examples. Commonly this superstructure would have contained carved wooden figures, usually saints, who were sometimes marginal to the central subject. Separate figures of the apostles Peter and Paul, also in the Hubert Chapel, have been assigned to the altarpiece on stylistic grounds. The castle archives contain a nineteenth-century handwritten catalogue of the Erbach collection, item 40 states that these statues were given by the Friedhofskirche to the Hubert chapel at the same time as the altarpiece. The catalogue also mentions a lock belonging to the altarpiece that was later installed on the door of the chapel.
26. Weerth ‘Das Schöllenbacher Wurzel Jesse Retabel’, 84.
27. See for example Karl-Werner Bachmann, Eike Oellermann and Johannes Taubert, ‘The Conservation and Technique of the Herlin Altarpiece (1466)’, Studies in Conservation, Vol. 15 (1970), 327–369.
28. The thick isolation layer was not employed under the faces and hands of the figures in the central shrine, or on the reliefs on the interior of the wings; consequently these areas were less damaged and little over-painting was required.
29. All the male faces have a stronger orange or brown base tone, with variations in the flesh tones of the kings used for characterisation.
30. Some over-painting with a dark oil paint or a gold layer is obvious, particularly on the left wing, which has sustained the greatest damage.
31. The sceptres of the kings were replaced in the nineteenth century, and some minor additions and other small repairs were made to the tree.
32. Scratch marks and fittings can be found at the top and bottom of the predella caisse. In all likelihood this removable predella panel would have also been painted, as seen on the Blaubeuren Altar of 1494. See Kahsnitz and Bunz, Carved Altarpieces, plate 107.
33. Kahsnitz and Bunz, Carved Altarpieces, 258. Other examples illustrated by Kahsnitz can be found in the Church of Saint John the Baptist and Saint Martin, Schwabach, near Nuremberg (1505–1508) and the Church of Saint James in Rothenburg (1466). A later example from Roth, south east of Würzburg, dated 1513 and attributed to Hans Strüb, can be found in the Reissmuseum in Mannheim.
34. Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage, 162–163.
35. Christiane Haeseler, ‘Zur Restaurierung des Schöllenbacher Altares’, Denkmalpflege Kulturgeschichte, Herausgegeben vom Landesamt für Denkmalpflege Hesse (4–2010), 6.
36. It is however, rather unusual to find dates expressed in roman numerals on German altar-pieces. See Robert Suckale, Die Erneuerung der Malkunst vor Dürer, Band 1, Teil VI.I, Kapitel 2: ‘Datierungsinschriten’ (Petersberg Bamberg: Imhof; Selbstverlag des Historischen Vereins Bamberg, 2009), 401–405. He gives no examples where roman numerals are used.
37. Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, 23.
38. Rudolf Schnellbach, Spägotische Plastik im unteren Neckargebiet (Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1931), 89–91.
39. Tilman Riemenshneider was an active master in Würzburg from 1485 to the mid 1520s. See Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, 18–19. Würzburg lies approximately one hundred kilometres east of Erbach.
40. Ulm, along with Augsburg, Strassburg and Nuremburg, was one of the main metropolitan centres of the region. Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, 6.
41. See Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, 18 and 255–258.
42. For an examination of the Blaubeuren altarpiece see Anna Moraht-Fromm and Wolfgang Schürle eds., Kloster Blaubeuren: der Chor und sein Hochaltar (Stuttgart: Theiss, 2002), 131–243. The altarpiece has also been described with detailed photographs in Kahsnitz and Bunz, Carved Altarpieces, 180–207.
43. Bartholomäus Zeitblom (c.1450–1519) was born in Nordlingen and recorded in Ulm from 1482–1518.
44. See Antje-Fee Köllermann, Conrad Laib, Ein spätgotischer Maler aus Schwaben in Salzburg (Berlin: Deutscher Verlag Für Kunstwissenschaft, 2007), 42–59 and, Ulrich Söding, ‘Conrad Laib und sein werk anmerkungen zur chronologie’, in Conrad Laib, Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Exh. Cat. (Wien: Ö sterreichische Galerie Belvedere, 1997), 27–31.
45. Although it is also possible that the artist used for his model a copperplate engraving that incorporates this detail, which was executed by Israhel van Meckenem in Augsburg in c.1495–1500. See Friedrich Wilhelm Heinrich Hollstein, German Engravings, Etchings and Woodcuts, 1400–1700 (Amsterdam: van Gendt and Co, 1954), Vol. 24, No. 51. It has been suggested that Meckenem commissioned designs from Holbein. Holbein could therefore be the source of the engraving. See Fritz Koreny, ‘Per universam Europam: German Prints and Printmaking Before 1500’, in Mark McDonald ed., The Print Collection of Ferdinand Columbus (1488–1539): A Renaissance Collector in Seville (London: British Museum Press, 2004), Vol. 1, 170.
46. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachische Stammtafel, 281.
47. Identified by Christiane Haeseler.
48. The tradition of depicting Moses with horns derives from the Vulgate use of the word ‘cornuta’ (horned) to describe Moses’s face when he descends from Mount Sinai with the tablets of the Law, Exodus 34:29. A similar representation can be found on the choir stalls in the Tübingen Stiftskirche. Aaron is often shown wearing a mitre or papal tiara to denote that he is a prefiguration of the Christian priesthood.
49. A precedent for this type of representation can be found in Hartmann Schedel’s Weltchronik, published in Nuremberg in 1493. The third part describes the history of the world from Abraham to King David, and both folios 37v and 41v depict high priests with crescent moons on the front of their mitres.
50. The subject matter would be dictated by the donors and would have formed part of the written contract with the workshop. For examples of contracts see Huth, Künstler und Werkstatt der Spätgotik, 108–139 and Hans Rott, Quellen und Forschungen zur südwestdeutschen und schweizerischen Kunstgeschichte im 15. und 16. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: Strecker & Schrö der Verlag 1933–38).
51. See for example the sixteenth century predella of the Virgin Mary Altarpiece, Saint Martin’s church, Tauberbischofsheim, attributed to Riemenschneider’s workshop; the predella of the Saint Anne Chapel Altarpiece, Saint Nicholas in Gundelsheim, near Heilbronn (c.1490); the predella of the altarpiece on the high altar of Saint Mary’s church, Blaustein–Wippingen, near Ulm (c.1505); the altarpiece in the Heilig-Kreuz-Münster in Schwäbisch Gmünd (c.1510); the altarpiece currently in the Saint Francis Xavier chapel in Bieselbach, near Augsburg (1510); the Bäckeraltar in Braunau (1480–86), and the altarpiece on the high altar in the church of Saint Vincent in Heiligenblut, Carinthia (c.1520). In addition, Veit Stoss, who was born in Swabia and settled in Nuremberg, travelled to Kraków in 1477 to undertake the monumental carved and polychromed Saint Mary altarpiece, which also has a Tree of Jesse in the predella.
52. Gordon Kipling, Enter the King, Theatre, Liturgy and Ritual in the Medieval Civic Triumph (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 63–71. For a discussion of genealogy as a medieval mental structure, reflected in historical writing, language, theology and the arts, see R. Howard Bloch, ‘Genealogy as a Medieval Mental Structure and Textual Form’, in Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht ed., La Litterature Historiographique des Origines à 1500 (Grundriss der Romanischen Literaturen des Mittelalters, Band XI/1) (Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1986), 135–156. For a history of genealogical tree imagery see Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, ‘The Genesis of the Family Tree’, I Tatti Studies: Essays in the Renaissance, Vol. 4 (1991), 105–129 and Andrea Worm, ‘Arbor autem humanum genus significat: Trees of Genealogy and Sacred History in the Twelfth Century’, in Pippa Salonius and Andrea Worm eds., The Tree: Symbol, Allegory and Mnemonic Device in Medieval Art and Thought, International Medieval Research 20 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 35–67.
53. Thérèse B. McGuire, ‘The Symbol of Power in Suger’s Tree of Jesse’, in Martin Gosman, Arjo Vanderjagt and Jan Veenstra eds., The Propagation of Power in the Medieval West, Selected Proceedings of the International Conference, November 1996 (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1997) and James R. Johnson, ‘The Tree of Jesse Window of Chartres’, Speculum, Vol. 36 (1961), 1–22. See also Marigold A. Norbye, ‘Arbor Genealogiae: Manifestations of the Tree in French Royal Genealogies’, in Salonius and Worm eds., The Tree: Symbol, Allegory and Mnemonic Device, 69–93.
54. Gary B. Blumenshine, ‘Monarchy and Symbol in Later Medieval France—The Tree of Jesse Window at Evreux’, Fifteenth Century Studies, Vol. 9 (1984), 19–57.
55. For a discussion of genealogy as ideology in the court of Maximilian see Larry Silver, Marketing Maximilian: The Visual Ideology of a Holy Roman Emperor (Princeton: Princeton University Press 2008), 41–76.
56. Ann M. Roberts, ‘The Chronology and Political Significance of the Tomb of Mary of Burgundy’, The Art Bulletin, Vol. 71, No. 3 (September 1989), 376–400.
57. When George, Duke of Saxony, commissioned the Saint Anne altarpiece for the main altar of the Church of Saint Anne in Annaberg-Bucholz (Figure 2.6), he also incorporated heraldic shields, thereby associating the dynastic prestige of his family with the genealogy of Christ.
58. See the family genealogical tree in Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachsche Stammtafel. Additions and corrections were made by Johann Philipp Wilhelm Luck, Historische Genealogie des reichsgraflichen Hauses Erbach, die als Zusätze und Verbesserungen zu D. Schneiders im Jahre 1736 herausgegebenen Erbachischen Historie und auch als ein eigenes Werk gebraucht werden kann (Frankfurt am Main, 1786).
59. See Luck, Historische Genealogie. Einhard and his wife were originally buried in a sarcophagus in the choir of the church in Seligenstadt, but in 1810 the sarcophagus was presented by the Grand Duke of Hesse to the Count of Erbach, who placed it in the Hubert Chapel.
60. This copy of the Vita et Gesti Karoli Magn i (B89, VD 16 E 726) can be found in the Nicolaus-Matz-Bibliothek (Kirchenbibliothek) in Michelstadt.
61. Calculations of infant mortality are bound to be speculative, however, it has been suggested that more than 20% of children died in their first year and only half of those born reached the age of five. See Shulamith Shahar, Childhood in the Middle Ages (London: Routledge, 1990), 149–150.
62. Schneider, Vollständige hochgräflich Erbachsche Stammtafel, 280, and the Max Walter Archiv, 22/80 (1949), in the Institute for Volkskunde at the University of Würzburg. ‘Die Kinder kommen dabei aus dem Schollenbacher Brunnen’. It seems that the water from the spring was still used to baptise members of the Erbach family well into the twentieth century (Max Walter Archiv, 22/120).
63. Brandenbarg, ‘Saint Anne, A Holy Grandmother and Her Children’, 56 and n.58.
64. See London, BL, Sloane MS 3564, fols 55r-v, translated in L’Estrange, Holy Motherhood, 57, n.55.
65. Luke 1:36 ‘And behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren’. L’Estrange, who conducted an analysis of late medieval prayers for labour, surmised that the consistent recurrence of Saint Anne, Saint Elizabeth and the Virgin, indicates that the mothers of the Holy Kinship were not only important in asking for help in the conception of heirs, but also that their invocation played a central role during labour itself. See L’Estrange, Holy Motherhood, 67.
66. Precedents for the depiction of Elizabeth on the right side of the Virgin can be found in the Visitation miniature from the Hours of Catherine of Cleves, c.1440 (Morgan Library, NY, M.945, fol.32r) and the Visitation panel from the Schottenstift Altarpiece, 1469, in the Schottenstift Church, Vienna.
67. See Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage, 96.
68. Although no evidence of a pilgrims’ footbath has been found at the site, medieval foot-baths have been discovered at other pilgrimage sites in Scotland and Ireland (Iona and Innismurray).
69. See for example the Ehningen Altarpiece (1482) and the wings of the Monfort-Werdenberg altarpiece (1465) in the Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. The Kreuzigung Christi mit Heiligen Altarpiece by the Master of the Madonna Ilsung (c.1485) in the Deutsches Historisches Museum in Berlin features both the Annunciation and the Visitation on the exterior of the wings; unfortunately the original location of this work is not known.
70. For a discussion of the depiction of the Annunciation on the exterior wings of altarpieces, see Molly Teasdale-Smith, ‘The Use of Grisaille as a Lenten Observance’, in Marsyas Studies in the History of Art, Vol. VIII. (New York: New York University, 1959), 43–54.
71. For further information regarding the history of this chapel see Schreiber, Wallfahrten durchs deutsche Land, 490; Walter Hotz, Amorbach, Das Marienmünster im Odenwald (Berlin: Rambrandt-Verlag, 1938), 6; Walter Hotz, Amorbacher Cicerone (Amorbach: Hermann Emig, 1959) (rev. 1976), 117–121; Max Walter, Die ehemalige Abteikirche in Amorbach (Amorbach: Fü rstlich Leiningensche Verwaltung, 1979), 46; H. Dünninger, ‘Sancti amoris fons, Volkskundliches zur Geschichte des Quellheiligtums Amorsbrunn’, in Friedrich Oswald and Wilhelm Störmer eds., Die Abtei Amorbach im Odenwald (Sigmaringen: J. Thorbecke, 1984), and Wand, Mittelalterliche Einsiedeleien, 36.