Introduction

The Tree of Jesse, an illustration of the prophecy of the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, was once one of the most prolific images in northern Europe, and from the midfifteenth to early sixteenth centuries could be found on every type of religious object. This book will consider various aspects of the late medieval use of the iconography and, rather than just confining itself to traditional representations, will extend the parameters to include works that have appropriated and adapted the imagery to convey nuanced and subtle shifts in meaning. Now mostly dislocated from their original surroundings, the function of these objects has become unclear to the modern viewer, but by recreating the circumstances in which the Tree of Jesse was employed, it will be shown that they can be seen to reflect, directly or indirectly, the concerns of a society on the brink of great change. By attempting to answer fundamental questions, such as who was commissioning these works and why, this study is able to produce valuable information that can be beneficial to both cultural and social historians, contributing to our overall knowledge of the period.¹

The Tree of Jesse had been a frequently used image in manuscript illumination and stained glass in most of northern Europe during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.² As has long been recognised, there was then a gradual slowing down in the frequency of representations from the fourteenth century onwards.³ The renewed interest that took place in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries is therefore remarkable and requires explanation, particularly as it appears to have occurred in a clearly defined geographical area, centred on the Burgundian Low Countries, but also spreading to the south of Germany and other parts of northern France.⁴ By looking at the subject across a wide range of media, in a manner that allows for sufficient attention to be paid to each object and its particular context, this book will explore the reasons behind this phenomenon. It will bring together works that in many instances have been largely neglected in the scholarly literature, but which, when examined against the theological and devotional background of the day, can be seen to have different functions and meanings for different social groups. By studying the Tree of Jesse and its associated iconography in light of its significance to these groups, we are able to see that it became an image of great complexity, one with deep roots in the religious beliefs of the day, but one that could also function on a more temporal level, reflecting society’s preoccupation with the role of women, identity and social status in the years leading up to the Reformation.

Scholarship to Date

Previous authors to consider the Tree of Jesse have, on the whole, focused on a much earlier period, and do not engage deeply with individual objects and their backgrounds. One of the first studies to be conducted was by Abbot Corblet, who wrote a short paper in 1860 that predominantly examined examples from northern France.5 He made the novel suggestion that liturgical prophet dramas may have been influential in the development of Tree of Jesse iconography.⁶ Corblet was followed by Émile Mâle, who, in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, referred to the use of the motif in his well-known publications that explore the iconography of Christian art.⁷ The importance of prophet dramas in the development of Tree of Jesse iconography was pursued further by Mâle, who claimed that the dramas had inspired Abbot Suger and his artists in the creation of the twelfth-century Jesse window at Saint Denis.⁸ Mâle also stated that the full or ‘true formula’ of the Tree of Jesse that was conceived in this work, became the model for all future representations.

Ligtenberg, who considered the Tree of Jesse for his 1929 article that discussed the genealogy of Christ in the visual arts, again addressed the issue of the importance of the prophet dramas.⁹ Disagreeing with Mâle, he concluded that they were not a prerequisite for the iconography at Saint Denis, and that there were too many variants in later representations for it to be the source. In 1934, Arthur Watson conducted the first detailed investigation into the use of the iconography, although he concentrated mainly on representations of the motif before the end of the twelfth century.¹⁰ Watson also reflected at some length on whether prophet dramas were central to the development of Tree of Jesse imagery. Like Ligtenberg, he ultimately rejected this premise, although he did acknowledge, as seems reasonable, that both were expressions of the same idea.¹¹ Some later examples of the iconography were discussed by Mirella Levi D’Ancona in 1957, although these were examined only in relation to the concept of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin.¹² More recently, Otto Böcher looked at examples in Germany for a brief paper written in 1973, and the motif has also been referred to by scholars primarily interested in the role of Saint Anne, the apocryphal mother of the Virgin.¹³ Where relevant, aspects of these previous studies will be discussed in more detail in the following chapters.

Most of the literature mentioned here consists of short articles, or merely refers to Tree of Jesse iconography as part of a wider discussion; none consider the iconography with regard to the type of questions that are the focus of this investigation. There are, however, two relatively recent works, more than twenty years apart, which have touched on some of the issues raised in this study. The first, by Werner Esser in Bonn, considered representations of the Holy Kinship in late medieval Germany and the Netherlands, identifying several examples where the Tree of Jesse had been used in conjunction with this iconography.¹⁴ The second, by Séverine Lepape in Paris, looked in some detail at the development of the Tree of Jesse motif in France and Britain from the thirteenth to sixteenth centuries.¹⁵ However, these theses are essentially surveys and although useful as sources of reference, are limited by the very nature of their broad approach.

Origin and History of Tree of Jesse Iconography

Before discussing the fifteenth and early sixteenth-century use of Tree of Jesse imagery, it is first essential to understand the origin and history of the iconography. The term ‘Tree of Jesse’, used so widely today, may not have been universally recognised in the late medieval period, as it does not occur in either scripture or medieval biblical exegesis. The Vulgate discusses the ‘virga de radice Jesse’ (the rod, or shoot, out of the root of Jesse), and one of the earliest references to a pictorial representation of the subject, in the twelfth century, describes it as the ‘Stirps Iesse’ (stem of Jesse).16 In the vernacular it has been referred to in several different ways. Two early sixteenth-century German contracts describe it as the ‘der stam Jesse’ (the root/trunk of Jesse), or ‘König Jesse Mit ainem Aufwachsenden stamb’ (King Jesse with a growing root/trunk).¹⁷ In addition, an English document of 1635, which mentions the original late medieval stained glass in the Lady Chapel of Winchester Cathedral, talks about a now lost window as painted with the ‘Genealogie from the Root of Jesse’.¹⁸ Consequently, even though ‘boem van Jesse’ (tree of Jesse) can be found in a Flemish contract of 1474,¹⁹ it seems that the use of ‘Tree of Jesse’ as a general term to classify the iconography was not commonplace until the eighteenth century.²⁰ Nevertheless, for the purpose of clarity, the term will be used throughout this book.

As an illustration of a prophecy fulfilled by the Incarnation, the Tree of Jesse, the genealogical tree of Christ, had been a favourite theme throughout the Middle Ages. Isaiah had prophesised that a Messiah would be born to the family of Jesse, the father of King David, Isaiah 11:1–3, ‘et egredietur virga de radice Jesse et flos de radice eius ascendet’.

And there shall come forth a rod out of the root of Jesse, and a flower shall rise up out of his root. And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: the spirit of wisdom, and of understanding, the spirit of counsel, and of fortitude, the spirit of knowledge, and of godliness. And he shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord. He shall not judge according to the sight of the eyes, nor reprove according to the hearing of the ears.

This passage, combined with the genealogy at the beginning of Saint Matthew’s Gospel, related again by Saint Luke, provided the textual basis for the iconography.²¹ Support for the prophecy was found in Revelation 22:16, ‘I Jesus have sent my angel, to testify to you these things in the churches. I am the root and stock of David, the bright and morning star’, and also in the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Romans 15:12, ‘And again Isaias saith: There shall be a root of Jesse; and he that shall rise up to rule the Gentiles, in him the Gentiles shall hope’. It was further enriched at the beginning of the third century, when the early Christian author Tertullian linked the Vulgate Latin word for rod, virga with the Virgin virgo and the flower flos with Christ.²²

Is it not because he is himself the flower from the stem [rod] which came forth from the root of Jesse, while the root of Jesse is the house of David, and the stem [rod] from the root is Mary, descended from David, that the flower from the stem [rod], the Son of Mary, who is called Jesus Christ, must himself also be the fruit?

Tertullian’s interpretation was reaffirmed in the fourth century by Saint Ambrose, in his text on the Holy Spirit, Book II, Chapter 5, verse 38, ‘The root of Jesse the patriarch is the family of the Jews, Mary is the rod, Christ the flower of Mary, Who, about to spread the good odour of faith throughout the whole world, budded forth from a virgin womb’.23 It was affirmed again by Saint Jerome in his letter XXII to Eustochium:

There shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a flower shall grow out of his roots. The rod is the mother of the Lord—simple, pure, unsullied; drawing no germ of life from without but fruitful in singleness like God Himself. The flower of the rod is Christ, who says of Himself: I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys.²⁴

The messianic prophecies of the Old Testament are, therefore, realised in the incarnation of Christ through the lineage of David and the virgin birth. This concept, which was seen to emphasise the prefigurative significance of the biblical passage, became commonplace in early medieval commentaries.

Isaiah played a central role in providing scriptural authority for many of the widely held beliefs regarding the Virgin, and he alone among the prophets seems to refer to her explicitly, Isaiah 7:14, ‘Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign. Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son and his name shall be called Emmanuel’.²⁵ This passage, along with that relating to Jesse, became an essential part of the liturgy for Advent, and the prophecy is further recalled in one of the Greater Antiphons, O Radix Jesse, which was prescribed by the eighth century for Vespers on the Wednesday of Ember week.²⁶

In pictorial representations of the subject, it is possible to see an evolution in the iconography over a relatively short space of time.²⁷ The first images present the most literal interpretation of Isaiah’s text and usually show Jesse alone, with the tree growing from his body. The placement of the trunk is varied, and can be depicted either growing from Jesse’s head, shoulders, heart, stomach or groin. These different placements have been discussed by Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, who distinguishes between those she considers carnal, with their obvious association with the origin of life, and those she considers spiritual.²⁸ By the mid-fifteenth century, however, the most popular form of representation has the trunk growing from Jesse’s heart.²⁹ Resting on the flowers of the tree are doves, which relate to the second part of Isaiah’s prophecy and represent the gifts of the Holy Spirit.³⁰ The earliest known depiction of the subject occurs in a Bohemian manuscript dated 1086, which may have originated in the circle of the scriptorium at the Monastery of Saint Emmeram in Regensburg (National Library of the Czech Republic, MS XIV, A.13, fol.4v) (Figure 0.1).³¹ This manuscript, known as the Vyšehrad Codex, contains the Coronation Gospels of King Vratislav II, the first monarch of Bohemia. The image is located on the lower register of the page preceding the Gospel of Saint Matthew, with a representation of the closed gate of Ezekiel, commonly interpreted as a prefiguration of the virgin birth, in the upper register.³² The previous page features illustrations of the virga Aaron and the virga Moses, which were also seen as prefigurations of the Incarnation.³³ Therefore, all four images appear to relate to the virgin birth of Christ, even though the Virgin and Christ are not actually depicted. The virga Aaron and virga Moses have an obvious association with the virga Jesse and, consequently, it is not unusual to find Moses and/or Aaron appearing in later Tree of Jesse imagery.³⁴ In the Vyšehrad Codex, Isaiah is depicted with a scroll that bears the text of his prophecy ‘et egredietur virga de radice Jesse’, which wraps around the seated figure of Jesse. A tree grows from beneath Jesse’s foot and seven haloed doves perch on the blooming

Figure 0.1 The Vyšehrad Codex, c.1086

National Library of the Czech Republic, Kodex Vyšehradský, Shelfmark: XIV.A.13.fol.4v

branches. Across the top of the image a Latin inscription reads ‘Virgula de Iesse p[ro] cedit splendida flore’ (the rod of Jesse produces a splendid flower). A later representation of Jesse depicted with seven doves can be found in the Bible of Saint-Bénigne, (Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00002, fol.148r) (Figure 0.2), thought to date from the second quarter of the twelfth century. This miniature appears at the beginning of the Book of Isaiah, filling the centre of the opening initial of Visio Isaie.³⁵

Figure 0.2 Tree of Jesse Detail From the Bible of Saint-Bénigne, Twelfth Century

Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00002, fol.148r

A further group of images incorporate the second prophecy of Isaiah, ‘Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel’. These images emphasise the role of the Virgin as the mother of Christ. One of the earliest to assign her a preeminent position can be found in a manuscript from the Abbey of Cîteaux in Burgundy (Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00129, fols.4v and 5r) (Figure 0.3). This manuscript, the S. Hieronymi Explanatio in Isaiam, contains Saint Jerome’s commentary on Isaiah and has been dated to c.1125. Jesse appears asleep at the bottom of the tree; he holds the trunk with his left hand and where the trunk splits into two, the Virgin stands with the Christ Child in her arms. In her left hand she appears to hold a twig, presumably a further reference to the prophecy, and a single dove rests on her halo, which may intend to imply a dual meaning. On the opposite page, Isaiah stands in the initial letter with a scroll inscribed with the text of both of his prophecies, ‘et egredietur virga’, and ‘ecce virgo concipiet’. He points to the image on the adjoining page to indicate that this is the fulfilment of those prophecies. This conflation of Isaiah’s prophecies gives prominence to the Virgin’s role in the Incarnation, and she may even form the virga, the shoot of the tree, as in a miniature from the twelfth-century Lambeth Bible (Lambeth Palace Library, Ms.3, fol.198r) (Figure 0.4).

Figure 0.3 S. Hieronymi Explanatio in Isaiam, c.1125

Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00129, fols.4v and 5r

In another manuscript of a similar date, also from Cîteaux, the Virgin can be seen enthroned in the tree (Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00641, fol.40v) (Figure 0.5). Known as the Vitae Sanctorum, or the Légendaire de Cîteaux, and dated c.1110–20, this miniature also incorporates four other Old Testament prefigurations: Daniel and the Lion’s Den, Moses and the Burning Bush, Gideon and his Fleece and the Three Young Men and the Fiery Furnace.³⁶ These prefigurations, which also came to be

Figure 0.4 Lambeth Bible, Twelfth Century

Lambeth Palace Library, MS3, fol.198r

Figure 0.5 Tree of Jesse Detail From the Légendaire de Cîteaux, c.1110–20

Bibliothèque municipale de Dijon, MS00641, fol.40v

associated with the Virgin and Birth of Christ, can often be found represented alongside Tree of Jesse iconography. In other miniatures, Mary appears without prefigurations, but with King David, occasionally Solomon, and sometimes prophets, as in two twelfth-century manuscripts in the British Library: the Shaftesbury Psalter (Lands-downe 383, fol.15r) and the Winchester Psalter (Cotton MS Nero C IV, fol.9r).37 Examples can also be found in illuminated Bibles, where the Tree of Jesse was often used to illustrate the beginning of the Book of Isaiah or Gospel of Matthew, as in the twelfth-century Bible of Saint Bertin in Paris (Bibliothèque nationale de France, Latin 16746, fol.7v), where a Tree of Jesse decorates the first initial of the Liber generationis of the first chapter of Matthew (Figure 0.6). Although not explicit from a reading of the Gospels, it is unsurprising that in time the Tree of Jesse also came to be seen as the genealogical tree of the Virgin and, as such, an affirmation of her Davidic and royal paternity.

This notion is evident in more complex representations that depict the extended genealogy from Jesse through David to the Virgin and Christ. In these images, Jesse is shown sleeping at the base of the tree in a semi-reclining position, sometimes under a tent-shaped canopy.³⁸ The tree that grows from his body branches out to accommodate the ancestors of Christ, who are depicted among the foliage. David is almost always shown with his harp, particularly in later representations, and sometimes Solomon can be identified from his turban. The number of secondary ancestors featured varies, depending on the space available. Crowning the tree are the Virgin and Christ, shown either separately or together, and sometimes surrounded by doves. It is also common to see prophets with scrolls inscribed with a quotation from the text of their prophecies; they are often shown in an animated state and may point to Christ as the foretold Messiah. Many early stained glass windows also include other attributes around Jesse; examples include a suspended lamp, which Watson has suggested may be symbolic of the eternal light of Christ.³⁹

The earliest known example of this type of extended iconography appeared in the stained glass window commissioned in 1144 by Abbot Suger for the new choir of Saint Denis in Paris.⁴⁰ Unfortunately, this window has been extensively altered by restoration, although it is believed that the Jesse window located beneath the rose at the west end of Chartres Cathedral, dated only a few years later and considerably better preserved, is an almost identical copy of Suger’s window (Figure 0.7).⁴¹ Suger’s design appears to have been popular for stained glass, and many twelfth- and early thirteenth-century windows throughout northern Europe are thought to have derived from the Saint Denis and Chartres model.⁴²

By the mid-fifteenth century, the Tree of Jesse was a well established and familiar typological motif, when it seems there was a standardisation in pictorial representations of the subject. The most common number of kings depicted was now twelve, which was probably linked to the idea of the twelve tribes of Israel. This appears to derive from Acts 7:8, which states that Abraham’s son was Isaac and that his son was Jacob, the father of the twelve patriarchs who were the founders of the twelve tribes of Israel. This was perhaps also intended to provide an analogy with the twelve apostles, or the twelve fruits on the Tree of Life.⁴³ When named, the kings usually follow the order of twelve of the fourteen kings described by Matthew, starting with David, before the transmigration of Babylon.⁴⁴ Although by now commonplace, this was not an entirely new idea, as a twelfth-century precedent for the depiction of twelve kings can be found on the north doorway of the Baptistery at Parma. In addition, the

Figure 0.6 Bible of Saint Bertin, Twelfth Century

Bibliothèque nationale de France, Latin 16746, fol.7v

Figure 0.7 Tree of Jesse Window, Twelfth Century, Chartres Cathedral

(Photo: © Dr Stuart Watling)

kings were now often shown as half figures in blossoms of flowers on the tree; a precedent for this type of representation can be found in a Parisian Bible Historiale dated c.1414–15 (Royal Library of Belgium, Brussels, Ms.9002, fol.223r) (Figure 0.8).⁴⁵ Seven doves, representing the gifts of the Holy Spirit, also became rarer, presumably because the image now appears to focus more on the genealogy of Christ and

Figure 0.8 Parisian Bible Historiale, c.1414–15

Royal Library of Belgium, Ms.9002, fol.223r

the Virgin, and less on a literal translation of the messianic prophecy. Despite this, it remains usual to find two or four prophets depicted on either side of Jesse. As will be seen in the following chapters, representations of a seated Jesse also became more widespread, particularly in northern France and the Netherlands, and representations of the Virgin on a crescent moon, the antique symbol of chastity, and/or surrounded by a mandorla, became increasingly frequent. This was presumably a reference to the Woman of the Apocalypse, who was exegetically identified with the Virgin and became a key allegory for the Virgin’s involvement in man’s salvation.46

Corblet had suggested that representations of the tree growing out of Jesse’s body may have been designed to provide an analogy with Adam, who lay asleep on the ground while God created Eve from one of his ribs. The Virgin on the Tree of Jesse was seen by Corblet as the Second Eve, who has been sent to redeem the first. Watson, however, believed another analogy was closer, that the Tree of Jesse, like the Tree of the Cross, was a tree of salvation.⁴⁷ This argument appears logical; consequently, it seems likely that the Tree of Jesse can be seen as part of a much wider tradition in Christian art, alongside the Tree of Knowledge, the Tree of Life, the vine and the physical tree from which the True Cross was made, all of which allude to a general concept of salvation.⁴⁸ As Watson identified, the virga Jesse and virga Crucis were brought into close association at an early date in the writings of Peter Damian, the eleventh-century monastic leader and church reformer whose works were widely distributed and remained popular for many generations.⁴⁹ Damian followed his homily, In nativitate Beatissimae Virginis Mariae, with the De exaltatione Sanctae Crucis. Introducing this, he wrote, ‘Out of the virga of Jesse we came to the virgam of the cross and the beginning of redemption was the conclusion’.⁵⁰ Damian, therefore, saw the Tree of Jesse as the beginning of the story of salvation, which led to man’s redemption through the Tree of the Cross. The placing of a Cross on the altar in front of an image of the Tree of Jesse would provide a similar association of ideas. In the early sixteenth century, many Antwerp carved altarpieces and Breton windows actually combined the Tree of Jesse with the Crucifixion in a single work, highlighting the humanity of Christ and adding a Eucharistic dimension to the motif. These images, which provide a complete visual rendition of the story of salvation, are examined in further detail in Chapters Five and Six. Some pictorial representations link the Tree of Jesse with other religious trees, for example, the Saint-Omer Psalter of c.1330–40 in the British Library (Yates Thompson 14 fol.7r), depicts a historiated Beatus initial with a Tree of Jesse and historiated border containing nine roundels that include the Tree of Knowledge. Obvious parallels also exist with the Tree of Consanguinity or the Lignum Vitae of Saint Bonaventure.

Certain scholars have associated renewed interest in the Tree of Jesse in the fifteenth century with the belief in the concept of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin. The first to propose this was Mâle, who briefly examined the reappearance of the iconography in French stained glass and printed Books of Hours between 1450 and 1550.⁵¹ He suggested that its use at this time was primarily because the motif had become some kind of symbol of the concept. Belief in the Immaculate Conception was a subject of great controversy among theologians during the fifteenth century, and although it did not become a dogma of the church until the nineteenth century, it was widely supported by many influential religious orders, particularly the Franciscans, Carmelites and Benedictines. The theory that the Tree of Jesse had become an expression of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin was discussed in more detail by D’Ancona.52 D’Ancona supported Mâle’s premise, but also allowed for the use of the motif by those opposed to the concept. D’Ancona differentiated between the Immacu-list tree, which she believed referred specifically to Mary, and the Maculist tree, which she believed referred specifically to Christ. This hypothesis will be discussed further in Chapter Two.

The brief study conducted by Böcher in 1973 also identified that the Tree of Jesse had become particularly fashionable again in Germany from the 1460s, particularly along the Rhine.⁵³ Yet Böcher does not single out the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin as the motivation for this renewed use, but relates it more to a wider interest in the matrilineal genealogy of Christ. Böcher is supported by more recent studies that focus on Saint Anne, such as those by Kathleen Ashley and Pamela Sheingorn, Virginia Nixon and Jennifer Welsh, which associate the late medieval use of the Tree of Jesse with the rapid expansion of the cult of the Virgin’s mother in Germany and the Low Countries.⁵⁴ Although the examination of the iconography in these texts is cursory and restricted to few examples, all agree that images of the Holy Kinship and Tree of Jesse became popular during the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries to convey the various familial relationships described in the apocryphal Protoevangelium of Saint James, the Pseudo Matthew and the Golden Legend, Jacobus de Voragine’s widely read anthology of the saints’ lives.

This argument appears to be corroborated by the surveys undertaken by Esser and Lepape, who give many examples that illustrate the renewed interest in both Holy Kinship and Tree of Jesse iconography that occurred in Germany, the Netherlands, and parts of northern France, from c.1450 to c.1550.⁵⁵ However, as neither author considers individual works in any depth, they are unable to shed further light on exactly how the iconography might have functioned in relation to patronage and location. This book will attempt to fill the gap in the existing literature, and address some of the previous assumptions made about the late medieval use of Tree of Jesse iconography.

Methodology

The doctoral thesis of 2014, on which this book is based, contains many more examples than is possible to include here, however, the objects examined in the following chapters are representative of the wider milieu. Works discussed date primarily from around 1450 to 1520, as this is the period in which the majority of surviving objects were made. However, in order to understand how the Tree of Jesse functioned and why it was such a popular choice among late medieval patrons, it has been necessary to be flexible: earlier works that set a precedent, and later works that illustrate just how the iconography persisted in some areas, are also considered. The choice of objects discussed and their geographical range has, to a certain degree, been pre-determined by patterns of survival: in addition to the devastation wreaked by fire, neglect, changing tastes and two world wars, this relates to a large extent to the progress of the Reformation. In Germany, for example, the Rhineland remained mostly Catholic, with some pockets of Lutheranism; which meant that, on the whole, churches were not desecrated.⁵⁶ Conversely, in the Netherlands, in areas where Calvanism prevailed, there was universal iconoclasm and the systematic destruction of devotional images.⁵⁷

The objective of this investigation was to marry an iconological analysis with a close visual examination, paying attention to each object’s social and religious background. The initial stage was to assemble a corpus of works. Once this was done it was then possible to identify thematic and geographical clusters of use. The objects selected for further analysis were primarily chosen because they presented rich possibilities for further investigation: certain works were undergoing restoration, affording the opportunity for unparalleled access; or the existence of primary evidence provided valuable contextual information. Since the Tree of Jesse motif appears in a variety of media, in order to understand the full complexity of its application, it was important to investigate many different types of work, from monumental carved altarpieces and stained glass to much smaller and more private devotional objects. Few of these works have been the subject of any detailed study, yet a focused analysis, combined with information gleaned from contemporary texts, meant that it was possible to draw conclusions regarding a particular work’s origin, patronage, audience and function, which helped in understanding the adoption and transformation of the imagery. Due to the nature of the evidence, the structure of each of the following chapters is slightly different. In some cases several works are considered together, illustrating the subtlety and evolution of the iconography. In other instances, individual objects are examined in greater detail, in order to demonstrate just how the Tree of Jesse could function on multiple levels. The aim is to reveal the multifaceted visual potential of the Tree of Jesse motif in the late medieval period.

Chapter Structure

This book begins with an examination of the Speculum humanae salvationis (Mirror of human salvation) manuscript and subsequent blockbooks, to establish what impact they may have had on the use and evolution of Tree of Jesse iconography. Introduced in the early fourteenth century, this text uses the prophecy of Isaiah as a prefiguration of the Birth of the Virgin. As discussed earlier, by the twelfth century the Virgin often occupied a preeminent position in the Tree of Jesse motif, and it is unsurprising that the image was used in other essentially Marian contexts. It can be found for instance in the Speculum Virginum, a guide book for nuns dating from the twelfth century and, from an early date, in Books of Hours of the Virgin, such as the thirteenth-century Salvin Hours (British Library, Add. Ms.48985, fol.1v), where it illustrates the first letter of Matins. However, following the introduction of the Speculum humanae salvationis, it became increasingly common to find the Tree of Jesse used to illustrate the Virgin’s birth and genealogy, and the advent of printing meant this text became one of the most widely circulated and influential works of the late Middle Ages. The Speculum humanae salvationis also placed a new emphasis on the role of the mother of the Virgin in the story of salvation. The myth woven around the life of Saint Anne addressed many of the perceived inconsistencies in the biblical narrative, and her veneration had been promoted by many distinguished theologians during the latter part of the fifteenth century, leading to an upsurge in devotion.

Chapter Two will consider this flourishing cult of Saint Anne, and, by association, the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin, to determine what influence this might have had on representations of the Tree of Jesse. If Jesse was seen to provide the ancestors of Christ to the end of the Old Testament period, Saint Anne, according to the apocrypha, was the source of the immediate family of Christ in the New Testament period. Using primarily visual evidence, this chapter will explore how those promulgating the cult of Saint Anne used Tree of Jesse iconography to communicate the great power assigned to the saint by virtue of her holy genealogy, and question their objectives.

Lay confraternities dedicated to Saint Anne were often administered by religious orders and provided an important source of income. In the increasing competition for wealthy benefactors, it was important that these communities were able to project a strong identity, and it seems that the Tree of Jesse was an image that could be easily appropriated and adapted to reflect their own particular doctrine. By focussing on individual works, Chapter Three will consider just how the motif came to be exploited by the Carmelites and Dominicans, who both appear to have used it to convey their claim to a special relationship with the Virgin, and to imply an ancient and eminent tradition. It will also explore how the Dominicans and other orders might have used the iconography to help engender a sense of collective identity.

Chapter Four takes the form of a case study, looking at a southern German altar-piece from a little-known healing shrine at Schöllenbach, in the Odenwald district of Germany. After its provenance has been established, this altarpiece will be considered within a historical framework, which not only allows for certain conclusions to be drawn regarding the circumstance of its patronage, but also reveals how a contemporary audience might have viewed the work. From its earliest depiction in the Coronation Gospels of King Vratislav II, the use of Tree of Jesse iconography as a way of establishing an analogy between divine and temporal royalty has a long history. It will be shown that, in addition to its spiritual function, its use at Schöllenbach can also be seen to express a preoccupation with dynastic aspirations and the fundamental desire to produce healthy offspring.

The Tree of Jesse motif can be found in more than 20% of surviving Antwerp carved altarpieces dating from the early sixteenth century. Chapter Five will explore the function of the iconography in these altarpieces, to try to establish why it was so popular among Antwerp workshops and their patrons. Although the motif predominantly appeared in the lower register of the carved caisse, this chapter will also consider in detail three works: the Gifhorn, Bocholt and Pailhe altarpieces, where it was accorded a central position. Previous scholarship has tended to assume that, in order to speed up production, there was a great degree of standardisation between Antwerp carved altarpieces. An examination of the physical evidence will try to ascertain to what extent this hypothesis might be true, and a comparison of the overall iconography of these three altarpieces will attempt to determine just how much they may have been modified to suit the specific requirements of a patron.

Following the end of the Hundred Years’ War, the healthy economic climate led to the widespread rebuilding of rural churches in parts of northern France, and there was a vast increase in demand for Tree of Jesse windows, firstly in Normandy, and then in the Champagne region and Brittany. The final chapter will not only examine the nature of the renewed interest in the motif in northern France, but will also consider the role of German and Netherlandish artists and models in the dissemination of new forms of representation.

The different parts of this study will present diverse but related aspects of the late medieval use of Tree of Jesse iconography. Its objective is to try to establish, as fully as possible, the circumstances in which the Tree of Jesse was employed for individual groups of objects, the purpose of these objects, and how the function of the motif might have differed according to its use and location. This not only allows for an investigation into the richness and complexity of the iconography, but also provides a valuable insight into the factors that influenced the choices made by donors, whether individuals, confraternities or religious orders. Furthermore, interaction between different centres of production can be explored, and it is possible to see if and how ideas were exchanged through trade and the movement of artists. The extensive material collected for this investigation means that broader questions can also be asked: how and why Tree of Jesse iconography became so widespread in the years leading up to the Reformation, and what it can tell us about the religious beliefs and cultural attitudes of the day.

Notes

1. For a discussion of how artefacts and iconography can be used to widen our view of history see Steve Lubar and William David Kingery eds., History From Things: Essays on Material Culture (Washington, DC.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1993).

2. Although the subject can be found in southern Europe, it appears that it was never as popular as it was in the north. Examples in Italy include the twelfth-century baptistery doors of San Zeno in Verona, the thirteenth-century doors of the baptistery in Parma, the late-medieval frescoes in San Francesco in Pistoia and Santa Croce in Rome, and the sixteenth-century mosaic in San Marco, Venice. The motif was also the subject of some panel painting, such as the late fifteenth-century work by Matteo da Gualdo in the Museo Civico di Gualdo Tadino in Umbria. Tree of Jesse iconography was also employed in eastern Europe. For a discussion of some examples see Michael D. Taylor, ‘A Historiated Tree of Jesse’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, No. 34/35 (Washington 1980/81), 125–176, and Pippa Salonius, ‘Arbor Jesse—Lignum vitae: The Tree of Jesse, The Tree of Life and the Mendicants in Late Medieval Orvieto’, 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), 213–241. Salonius discusses the relationship between an early fourteenth-century depiction of the Tree of Jesse and its relationship to Byzantine precedents. An appendix lists some monumental examples of the Tree of Jesse in eastern Europe. In addition, several fifteenth- and early sixteenth-century examples can be found in Spain. Apart from some twelfth-century precedents, there had been few other early representations and its appearance at this time has been put down to the presence of northern artists. See Suzanne L. Stratton, The Immaculate Conception in Spanish Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 12–20.

3. For a discussion of the decline in representations of the motif in northern France from the fourteenth century see Séverine Lepape, Représenter la parenté du Christ et de la Vierge: l’iconographie de l’Arbre de Jessé en France du Nord et en Angleterre, du XIIIe siècle au XVI siècle (PhD Diss: l’Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales, Paris, 2007), 122–123. For a discussion of the decline in representations in Germany see Otto Böcher, ‘Zur Jüngeren Ikonographie der Wurzel Jesse’, Mainzer Zeitschrift, Festschrift für Fritz Arens Mittelrheinisches Jahrbuch für Archäologie, Kunst und Geschichte, No. 67/68 (Mainz, 1973), 156–157.

4. The Burgundian Low Countries was the region now largely known as the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxemburg, Artois and French Flanders, and a small part of western Germany. However, to speak of ‘Germany’ at this date is an anachronism, as the country was not formally united into a politically and administratively integrated nation state until the nineteenth century. The term ‘German speaking provinces’ might be more accurate therefore when discussing the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

5. Jules Corblet, ‘Étude Iconographique sur L’Arbre de Jessé’, Revue de l’Art Chrétian (Paris, 1860), 3–39. Corblet states that his is the first study of the iconography, apart from a brief nine-page paper previously published by Abbot Pouqet.

6. The prophet dramas, which according to Corblet were first introduced in the tenth century at Saint Martial in Limoges, took place during the liturgy on Christmas day, when ‘Isaiah’ would be called forward during the service to recite the text of his prophecy. Corblet, ‘Étude Iconographique sur L’Arbre de Jessé’, 5–6.

7. Émile Mâle, L’art religieux du XIIIe siècle en France: étude sur du Moyen Age et sur ses sources d’inspiration (Paris: Librairie Armand Colin, 1898), 218–223; L’art religieux de la fin du Moyen Age en France: étude sur l’iconographie du Moyen Age et sur ses sources d’inspiration (Paris: Librairie A. Colin, 1908), 72–73 and 227, and L’art religieux du XIIe siècle en France: étude sur les origines de l’iconographie du Moyen Age (Paris: Librairie Armand Colin, 1922), 147 and 171–175.

8. Mâle, L’art religieux de XIIe siècle en France, 147 and 171–175.

9. R. Ligtenberg, ‘De Genealogie van Christus in de beeldendekunst der Middeleeuwen voornamelijk van het Westen’, Oudheidkundig Jaarboek, Vol. 9 (1929), 2–54.

10. Arthur Watson, The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse (London: Oxford University Press, H. Milford, 1934).

11. Watson, ‘Drama and the Tree of Jesse’, in The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse, 9–36.

12. Mirella Levi D’Ancona, Iconography of the Immaculate Conception in the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance (New York: College Art Association of America and Art Bulletin, 1957), 46–50.

13. Böcher, ‘Zur Jüngeren Ikonographie der Wurzel Jesse’, 153–168, Kathleen Ashley and Pamela Sheingorn eds., Interpreting Cultural Symbols: Saint Anne in Late Medieval Society (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1990), Virginia Nixon, Mary’s Mother, Saint Anne in Late Medieval Europe (Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2004), and Jennifer Welsh, The Cult of St. Anne in Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Oxford and New York: Routledge, 2017).

14. Werner Esser, Die Heilige Sippe, Studien zu einem spätmittelalterlichen Bildthema in Deutschland und den Niederlanden (PhD Diss: Universität Bonn, 1986). Mellie Naydenova-Slade’s thesis also considers examples of the Holy Kinship, but does not particularly discuss Tree of Jesse iconography. See Naydenova-Slade, Images of the Holy Kinship in England, 1170–1525 (PhD Diss: Courtauld Institute of Art, London, 2008).

15. Lepape, Représenter la parenté du Christ et de la Vierge.

16. This appears in Abbot Suger’s De Administratione, where he describes the ‘excellent variety of new windows’ for the choir of Saint Denis, ‘Vitrearum etiam nouarum praeclaram varietatem, ab ea prima quae incipit a Stirps Iesse in capite ecclesiae’ Abbot Suger’s De Administratione (Sugerii Abbatis Sancti Dionysii Liber de rebus in administratione sua gestis) is transcribed and translated in full by Erwin Panofsky, in Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of Saint Denis and its Art Treasures, 2nd ed. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979). The relevant section appears on 72–73, where Panofsky translates Stirps Iesse to Tree of Jesse. In addition to the definition of stirps as the ‘lower part of the trunk, including the roots, a stock, stem or stalk’, in Charlton T. Lewis and Charles Short, A Latin Dictionary (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), a second meaning ‘of persons’ is also proffered, which can refer to stock, race, family or lineage.

17. See the 1513 contract for the Saint Anne altarpiece in Kempen and the 1515 contract for the Saint Anne altarpiece for the Nikolauskirche in Feldkirch. Both are transcribed in Hans Huth, Künstler und Werkstatt der Spätgotik (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1967), 127 and 132. Today the iconography is still commonly referred to in German as Wurzel Jesse (Root of Jesse).

18. For further details of this document see R. N. Quirk, ‘A Tour of the Cathedral Before the Civil War’, The Winchester Cathedral Record, No. 22 (1953), 9–15.

19. This contract, between Pieter van den Kike (glazier) and Garcia de Contreras for stained glass windows for the cloister of the Observant Friars in Bruges, is transcribed and translated in Maximiliaan P. J. Martens, Artistic Patronage in Bruges Institutions, c. 1440–1482 (PhD Diss: Santa Barbara University, 1992), 531–532.

20. Scillia has attributed the invention of the term to Ducange. Under Jesse in his Latin Glossary, Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis (Paris, 1733), Ducange quotes the fourteenth-century account of the purchase of a Canterbury candelabrum in the year 1097 by Hugo de Flori ‘Candelabrum etiam magnum in choro aerum, quod Jesse Vocatur’. He then conflates the term quod Jesse Vocatur (that is called Jesse) with his own definition of medieval candelabra, arbores, to create his own interpretation ‘Arboris Jesse’ or ‘Tree of Jesse’. Its association with the Saint Denis window was assured when Ducange included, under his entry for Jesse, Suger’s text and description. See Charles Edward Scillia, The Textual and Figurative Sources of the Stirps Jesse in the First Half of the Twelfth Century with Special Reference to the Rhine-Meuse Area (PhD Diss: Bryn Mawr College, 1977), Chapter One, note 11.

21. Matthew 1:2–16 and Luke 3:23–38. There are, however, several differences between these genealogies. Matthew begins with Abraham, the father of the Jewish people, and ends with Joseph, while Luke traces the line in reverse order from Joseph to Adam. From Abraham to David the genealogies of Matthew and Luke are almost identical, although after David they are different. Early theologians tried to explain the difference by saying that Matthew described Joseph’s genealogy while Luke described Mary’s. To demonstrate that the prophecy is related to both genealogies, there are some examples where the Tree of Jesse is depicted with the two evangelists. See for example the painted exterior wings of the Brussels Saluces retable, now in the Musée de la Ville, Brussels.

22. ‘an quia ipse est flos de virga profecta ex radice Iesse, radix autem Iesse genus David, virga ex radice Maria ex David, flos ex virga filius Mariae qui dicitur Iesus Christus, ipse erit et fructus?’ See Ernest Evans, Tertullian: De Carne Christi liber, Treatise on the incarnation, Chapter 21, lines 25–28 (London: SPCK, 1956), 73. In this translation virga has been translated to stem instead of rod.

23. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace eds., A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series, Vol. 10 (St Ambrose: select works and letters) (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1898), 295.

24. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace eds., A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series, Vol. 6 (St Jerome: select works and letters) (Oxford: Parker, 1893), 114.

25. ‘Propter hoc dabit Dominus ipse vobis signum: ecce virgo concipiet et pariet filium, et vocabitur nomen ejus Emmanuel’. Jeremiah 31:22 has also been interpreted as a reference to the virgin birth, ‘How long wilt thou be dissolute in deliciousness, O wandering daughter? for the Lord hath created a new thing upon the earth: a woman shall compass a man’. For a full discussion of the importance of the prophecies of Isaiah for the cult of the Virgin see John F. A. Sawyer, The Fifth Gospel: Isaiah in the History of Christianity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

26. A popular fifteenth-century German hymn, still sung at Christmas, is ‘Es ist ein Ros’ entsrpungen, Aus einer Wurzel zart, Als uns die Alten sungen, Aus Jesse kam die Art (A rose has sprung up, from a tender root. As the old ones sang to us, Its lineage was from Jesse).

27. The Tree of Jesse features in three major dictionaries of iconography; these include examples of all types of representation. See Gertrud Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art (translated by Janet Seligman from the 2nd German edition, 1969), Vol. 1 (London: Lund Humphries, 1971), 16–20, Louis Réau, Iconographie de l’art chrétien, Vol. 2, Part II (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1957), 129–140, and Englebert Kirschbaum ed., Lexikon der Christ-lichen Ikonographie, Vol. 4 (Rome: Herder, 1994), 550–558.

28. Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, L’Arbre des Familles (Paris: É ditions de la Martiniè re, 2003) 96.

29. Lepape suggests this may be due to a de-sexualisation of the image due to the debate over the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin. Lepape, Représenter la parenté du Christ et de la Vierge, 185–187.

30. The number of doves varies, although usually the seven gifts are represented by seven doves, these are also sometimes identified by Latin inscriptions which can be translated as Knowledge, Wisdom, Piety, Understanding, Council, Fortitude and Fear of the Lord.

31. Jean Anne Hayes Williams, ‘The Earliest Dated Tree of Jesse Image: Thematically Reconsidered’, Athanor, Vol. XVIII (2000), 17, claims that depictions of the Tree of Jesse originated in Bohemia; however, this seems unlikely as an incipient version of a similar date exists in an Anglo-Norman manuscript. See Charles Reginald Dodwell, The Pictorial Arts of the West, 800–1200 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1993), 193–194. Furthermore, although there are striking parallels in oriental art, Watson believes that there is nothing to support a claim for an oriental source. See Watson, The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse, 58–76. However, an unfinished drawing in a Book of Kings, Rome Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (MS gr. 333), that may be the only survivor of a Greek genre of illustrated manuscripts of the Book of Kings, has been dated to c.1050–75 and may therefore predate the Vyšehrad Codex. See John Lowden, Kings, Books of, in the Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, Vol. 2, Alexander P. Kazhdan, ed. (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 1129.

32. Ezekiel 44:1–2.

33. Numbers 17:8: ‘He returned on the following day, and found that the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi, was budded: and that the buds swelling it had bloomed blossoms, which spreading the leaves, were formed into almonds’ and Exodus 4:1–4,

Moses answered and said: They will not believe me, nor hear my voice, but they will say: The Lord hath not appeared to thee. Then he said to him: What is that thou holdest in thy hand? He answered: A rod. And the Lord said: Cast it down upon the ground. He cast it down, and it was turned into a serpent: so that Moses fled from it. And the Lord said: Put out thy hand and take it by the tail. He put forth his hand, and took hold of it, and it was turned into a rod.

34. Some images also relate the Tree of Jesse to the flowering rod of Joseph; these are discussed in further detail in Chapter Six.

35. The late twelfth-century Ottobeuren Collectar (British Library, Yates Thompson 2, fol.107r) provides another example.

36. Daniel is miraculously delivered from the lion’s den (Daniel 6:22), the Lord appears in a bush to Moses that was on fire but not burnt (Exodus 3:2), Gideon’s fleece was covered in dew while the land remained dry (Judges 6:37), and Sidrach, Misach and Abdenago remained unharmed in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3:24).

37. The Tree of Jesse was a popular subject for Psalters, as King David is believed to have been the author of the majority of Psalms, and it can often be found decorating the first initial of the beatus vir at the beginning of Psalm One.

38. Schiller has suggested that this may be a reference to the tabernacle, the sanctuary of the Jews in the wilderness. Schiller, Iconography of Christian Art, 21.

39. Watson, The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse, 121–122.

40. Louis Grodecki, Études sur les vitraux de Suger à Saint-Denis (XII siècle), CVMA, France III (Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 1995).

41. Watson, ‘Suger and the first Tree of Jesse’, in The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse, 77–82.

42. See Emanda Richardson Johnson, The Tree of Jesse in England and Northern France in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (MA Thesis: Meadows School of the Arts, Texas, 1993). This traces the way that the iconography found at Saint Denis was copied, modified and standardised over the following two centuries.

43. Revelation 22: 2, ‘In the midst of the street thereof, and on both sides of the river, was the tree of life, bearing twelve fruits’.

44. Matthew 1:6–10:

And Jesse begot David the king. And David the king begot Solomon, of her that had been the wife of Urias. And Solomon begot Roboam. And Roboam begot Abia. And Abia begot Asa. And Asa begot Josaphat. And Josaphat begot Joram. And Joram begot Ozias. And Ozias begot Joatham. And Joatham begot Achaz. And Achaz begot Ezechias. And Ezechias begot Manasses. And Manasses begot Amon. And Amon begot Josias.

45. Other early examples can also be found, such as the mural painting in the Buurkerk in Utrecht (c.1453); the Breviary of Philip the Good (c.1455–59), Royal Library of Belgium, MS.9511, fol.15; and the Hours of Mary van Vronensteyn (c.1460), Royal Library of Belgium, MS.II. 7619, fol.18.

46. Revelation 12:1, ‘And a great sign appeared in heaven: A woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars:’ Some authors have also linked this form of representation with the text ‘Fair as the moon, bright as the sun’ from the Song of Solomon 6:9, which became associated with the Litanies of the Virgin and the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. See Beth Williamson, The Madonna of Humility: Development, Dissemination and Reception, c.1340–1400 (Woodbridge and Rochester: Boydell, 2009), 177.

47. Watson, The Early Iconography of the Tree of Jesse, 52–54.

48. The story of the invention of the Holy Cross in the Golden Legend gives an account of how a shoot planted by Seth on the grave of Adam produced the tree from which the cross was made. For a further discussion of the relationship between the Tree of the Cross and the Tree of Jesse, see Barbara Baert, A Heritage of Holy Wood: The Legend of the True Cross in Text and Image (Leiden: Brill, 2004).

49. Christopher Brook, Churches and Churchmen in Medieval Europe (London and Rio Grande: Hambledon Press, 1999), 235.

50. ‘De virga Jesse devenimus ad virgam crucis, et principium redemptionis fine concludimus’, Peter Damian, Homilia de exaltatione sanctae crucis (Sermo XLVIII.I) in Jacques-Paul Migne, S.Petri Damiani Patrologia Latina, Vol. 144 (Paris: Excudebatur et venit apud Jacques-Paul Migne, 1853), col. 761.

51. Émile Mâle, Religious Art in France, The Late Middle Ages: A Study of Medieval Iconography and Its Sources (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986), translated from the 1949 5th edition, 77–78 and 205. First discussed in L’art religieux de la fin du moyen âge en France, 72–73 and 227.

52. D’Ancona, Iconography of the Immaculate Conception in the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance, 46–50.

53. Böcher, ‘Zur Jüngeren Ikonographie der Wurzel Jesse’, 153–168.

54. Ashley and Sheingorn, Interpreting Cultural Symbols, Nixon, Mary’s Mother and Welsh, The Cult of St. Anne.

55. Esser, Die Heilige Sippe, Studien zu einem spätmittelalterlichen Bildthema in Deutschland und den Niederlanden and Lepape, Représenter la parenté du Christ et de la Vierge. Lepape discovered that in England the subject remained popular for Psalters, stained glass, wall painting and textiles throughout the fourteenth century, but that its use declined during the course of the fifteenth century, and that it had virtually ceased to be used by the early years of the sixteenth.

56. Luther did not endorse the iconoclastic riots and did not support the destruction of images. For Luther’s position on religious images see David Englander et al., Culture and Belief in Europe 1450–1600 (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1990), 69–71.

57. Phyllis Mack Crew, Calvinist Preaching and Iconoclasm in the Netherlands, 1544–1569 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978), 5–38.