In the course of the twelfth century the world of monasticism had institutionalized itself along Cistercian lines in firmly established organizational structures. It had also begun to anchor its innovative potential more and more in the urban milieu. Meanwhile the hermits, who in the eleventh century had still had enough energy to contribute to remarkable renewals in religious life, now disappeared from the limelight and no longer drew the attention of their contemporaries. But their way of life was certainly not extinct. On the one hand, there were still communities of hermits that had organized themselves constitutionally—the Grandmontines, for example, or the Carthusians—whose way of life was in full bloom and whose order boasted fifty-six communities across Europe by the middle of the thirteenth century. On the other hand, individual hermits continued to retreat from the world, setting off with a few followers to find God in solitude. They could be found in forests and mountains across Europe, but especially in Italy, and even in the Holy Land.
In this setting, around the middle of the thirteenth century, something remarkable happened among these eremitical groups. With the support of the papacy, and in one case under papal direction, they transformed themselves into mendicant orders—thereby embracing a form of religious life that in many respects aimed at something other than flight from the world into wastelands of solitude. But as the life of Francis reveals, the mendicant and the eremitical way of life (for any one individual, at least) need not have been wholly incompatible.
The new mendicant orders that emerged in this context were the Carmelites and the Augustinian Hermits. Together with the Franciscans and Dominicans, they represent the four main mendicant orders.
The beginnings of the Carmelites are poorly documented. The story begins in a lonely valley of the mountain range called Carmel, overlooking the city of Haifa. There, presumably around the end of the twelfth century, near the well that had supposedly been home to the prophet Elijah, a group of hermits had settled and established a chapel in honor of Our Lady.1 A few decades later, the bishop of Acre, James of Vitry, wrote in his history of Jerusalem about the throng of settlers that had come to the Holy Land. In doing so he characterized the circumstance in Carmel, and, as was the style of his day, he made use of a vivid metaphor: “In imitation of the holy hermit, the prophet Elijah, they lived as hermits on Mount Carmel . . . where they built individual cells like beehives and lived, as it were, like the Lord’s bees, making spiritual sweetness, like honey.”2 With this description he hit on two characteristics of the region’s eremitical life already encountered among the Camaldolese in the eleventh century: a life enclosed in separate huts, and a binding sense of return to an eremitical tradition that was rooted in the Old Testament.
At the beginning of the thirteenth century, under the leadership of a certain B (only the initial is known for certain from the evidence), the community resolved to live within a more precisely defined normative framework. They turned to Albert, the Latin patriarch of Jerusalem (whose see was in nearby Acre), with a request for the relevant guidelines. Albert had previously been bishop of Vercelli as well as prior of the congregation of the regular canons of Mortara.3 He had also been numbered among that small group of those who had prepared the statutes of the Humiliati. Albert wrote a rule for the hermits of Mount Carmel between 1206 and 1214, calling it a “formula of life” (vitae formula), and thereby created for them, through its observance, the possibility of forming their own institutional identity.4
The text of this rule established in outline the essentials of the Carmelite way of life. It began with the leadership of the prior and with life in individual cells (which the inhabitants were not to exchange) and then moved from practices of prayer and the establishment of a house of prayer and a chapter of faults (a gathering typical of life in a traditional monastery, in which individuals acknowledged their sins) to practices of common property and individual poverty, fasting, and silence, as well as ascetic practices such as penitential exercises and manual labor—all so that the devil would find the hermits too busy to fall into temptation. The text then emphasized the obligation (a matter that would later prove problematic) to found future settlements only in lonely and isolated locales. Yet it thereby captured in writing only the most important elements of an overall framework. Such formulations diverged from what was becoming typical at the time—grounding every affair in detail and in juridical form, as especially the Dominicans would do so well soon afterward. Here, in contrast, the deeply contemplative piety of the hermits themselves seems to have been enough to guarantee that the spirit of the community’s norms would be followed. Albert captured the essentials in the prologue: “True to Jesus Christ, pure in heart, and firm in conscience.”5
Their political environment, however, did not offer the hermits of Carmel the best of circumstances for an undisturbed observance of religious life.6 After the defeat at Hattin in 1187 and the loss of Jerusalem, crusaders found themselves forever on the defensive. The last decade of the twelfth century and the gains of the Third Crusade—for example, the recapture of Acre in 1191—had only brought the mild improvements that could make the growth of an eremitical community at Carmel even possible. Emperor Fredrick II was finally able to capture Jerusalem by treaty for the Christians in 1229, but the city fell once more in 1244. Carmel was thus never the most secure place for hermits to retreat to undisturbed from the world or to receive the long-term donations necessary for their basic survival.
In the years 1226 and 1229, Popes Honorius III and Gregory IX nevertheless confirmed Albert’s rule, which had been written just before the decrees of the Fourth Lateran Council already mentioned.7 Also in 1229 the community in Carmel was forbidden to have common property, a ruling that made the observance of their way of life all the more difficult and that placed them on the same level with the strictest of eremitical groups, such as the Grandmontines. Alongside the command to embrace poverty, Carmel was also placed under the protection of the Holy See. Both papal measures certainly worked to enhance the reputation of the community. It was now able to expand by establishing further settlements in the area immediately around Mount Carmel.
Yet despite the momentum of this expansion, the pervasive threats of the Holy Land seemed to take the upper hand. A slow retreat to Europe was soon under way, with the founding of new settlements above all in coastal cities: 1235 in Valenciennes, 1238 in Cyprus and Messina in Sicily, and 1242 in Hulne and Aylesford in England,8 as well as Les Aygalades in Marseille, with the parallel establishment of provinces in a way consistent with the conventions of the Dominicans and Franciscans. The rapid expansion of the Order throughout Europe thereafter can to a great extent be traced back to the agency of returning crusaders, who wanted to bring the spiritual power of Mount Carmel home with them.9 How the Carmelites drew the recruits necessary for such an impressive array of new communities remains unknown, however, because of the lack of source material.
The most serious obstacle to the advance of the Carmelite way of life emerged only at this point. It was a problem with both institutional and spiritual dimensions. The hermits from Carmel had made their way directly into the urban environments of Europe. In Valenciennes, for example, they were granted land in the tanners’ quarter with the expectation that they would build a church and a monastery there.10 How were they to live there, “among the people,” while still leading an eremitical life?
That question may well have been raised at the first-ever Carmelite general chapter, held in southeastern England in 1247 in Aylesford. The Order elected its first prior general there, and soon afterward its emissaries appeared before Innocent IV, whom they asked for relaxation of their rule.11 The pope tasked two Dominicans with a review of the text, and on October 1 of the same year he issued a bull in which he promulgated a revised text. It spoke for the first time of an order of Carmelites. The new version at first glance seems to have offered only unremarkable changes.12 There was now to be a common meal, new foundations no longer had to be located in isolated places, and the observances of silence and of abstinence from meat were relaxed for those who were begging or traveling, so as not to offend their hosts. Closer observation reveals, however, that all of these measures concerned a daily life that approximated common practice among the mendicant orders. It was now possible to establish a cenobitic way of life in urban convents and to practice itinerant begging in absolute poverty.
There was not yet any explicit discussion of taking on pastoral responsibilities as the established mendicant orders had. Simply integrating the Carmelite settlements into the urban environment, however, meant that the issue would become unavoidable. There is no direct evidence of how exactly the clericalization of the Order unfolded, or of how in this early era the Order in fact carried out its pastoral work. But one text from 1270 suggests the nature of that development negatively, by way of its rejection.
Nicholas of Narbonne (called Gallicus), general prior of the Order from 1266 to 1271, composed the text and gave it an emphatic title, “The Flaming Arrow” (Ignea sagitta).13 It is the oldest Carmelite literary work, and in it Nicholas issued his brothers a sharp demand: to leave the cities again and to retreat anew into the wilderness. For as long as they lived in the cities, he maintained, they could not be true sons of Carmel, but only stepsons. Worse, he accused, they were not even properly suited—let alone properly trained—for the demands of preaching and pastoral care. He emphasized that he had become familiar with the Order’s circumstance through his visitations, and he now asked himself why so many unlettered brothers now strove to hear confessions, to pose as doctors of the soul, or—without proper knowledge of the laws—to bind and loose what should not have been bound or loosed. Hardly any words could capture more compellingly, on the one hand, that a transformation into an order that embraced pastoral care was already fully under way and, on the other, that none of the supporting structures of education and regulation was yet in place. Underscoring the spiritual benefits that only an eremitical life of contemplation could bring, Nicholas then concluded his indictment with a song of praise to the nightly heavens, a song whose passionate dialogue with creation recalls the thought of Francis: “In the company of all of creation, which we see and hear in the desert, we find refreshment and encouragement. In their silence they preach a wonderful sermon and compel us to praise the creator.”14
No formal act—whether an act of the papacy or any kind of internal legislative measure—ever transformed the Carmelites from an eremitical community into a religious order that had the authority and the mandate (like the Franciscans or Dominicans) of preaching and pastoral care. Obviously they evolved only slowly into their apostolic, that is to say, their pastoral, responsibilities. Though the acerbic accusations of a figure like Nicholas regarding the pastoral failures of his day were probably on the mark, the Order had nevertheless successfully organized itself legally and administratively. General chapters, which as a rule met in various places every three years, had by the 1250s produced (according to the Dominican model)15 constitutions that sought both to render more specific a rule that had been cast in very general terms and also, in a certain way, to expand that rule through regulations focused on implementation.
This legislative work was advanced still more intently over the course of the century, in such a way that a cumulative corpus of statutory legislation, its measures adopted step-by-step, began slowly to emerge. The Order’s structure of offices was also organized according to a threefold stratification: the individual house with a prior, the province with a provincial prior and provincial chapter, and the entire Order, with its general prior and general chapter. Diffinitors were chosen from the provinces to serve in this legislative body, the highest within the Order. They codified the decisions of the general chapter, and they bound the general prior to them—as long as he did not abrogate those decisions with the approval of the provincial priors. Here too the desire to establish a balance among competing powers is obvious. The Order’s alliance with the Holy See was manifest, among other ways, in that the Carmelites, like the Franciscans, for example, soon enjoyed a cardinal protector.
Nevertheless, the Carmelites never failed to see themselves, and to represent themselves, as contemplative successors to the Old Testament prophets at Carmel. In their constitutions they wrote the following words: “We declare and affirm without any doubt that since the day when the prophets Elijah and Elisha lived piously on Mount Carmel, holy fathers of the Old as well as the New Testament, drawn by the contemplation of heavenly things to the solitude of the same mountain, have lived a successful and edifying life uninterrupted in holy penance there by the well of Elijah.” Directly following these words was an explanation that identified the Carmelites as the heirs of this enduring tradition: after the formation of their community had been advanced by Albert and approved by Innocent IV, they now served the Lord, so the text explicitly said, “in different parts of the world up to the present day.”16 To be tied back to Carmel was of utmost importance not only because the Order faced a loss of identity amid its transformations in Europe but also because the Order was thereby allowed to escape the prohibitions of the Fourth Lateran Council against the establishment of new religious orders. Albert’s text had been finished just before the establishment of that prohibition, and Elisha’s works had stood from time immemorial. We will later encounter the same strategy of argument among the Augustinian Hermits, who faced a similar problem.
A further step in the establishment of the Order’s identity was its veneration of Mary, which grew considerably stronger over the course of the thirteenth century. Given the fact that there was already a chapel devoted to Our Lady at Carmel, it also became common in Europe for the Carmelites to choose Mary as the patron of their churches. Marian mysticism, too, increasingly came to the forefront among those for whom the contemplative life had always been important. In this connection the very name of the Order became linked with Mary: the general chapter of 1294 explicitly expressed its preference for the designation “Order of Our Lady.”17
Three years before, however, the Carmelite way of life in the Holy Land had been brought definitively to an end with the conquest of Acre by the Mamluks. Henceforth the Carmelites were limited exclusively to Europe.
Around the same time that this internal process of transformation unfolded within the Carmelite Order, a similarly strong process transformed another tradition of eremitical life into an apostolic life devoted to pastoral care. Yet here the process was imposed from above and resulted in a decisive crisis whose events unfolded over the course of only a few days.
On April 9, 1256, Alexander IV issued a bull (known from its opening words as Licet ecclesiae catholicae) in which he approved the creation of a new order by way of gathering a number of established eremitical congregations into one and giving it a new name: Ordo fratrum Eremitarum S. Augustini—abbreviated as the Order of Augustinian Hermits.18 The Order was to follow both the Rule of Augustine and its own statutes, which were soon to be issued, and its members were to wear a new, uniform habit. Moreover, the Order could enjoy the cumulative privileges, all of them now assembled like building blocks, that its groups had once received individually. Cardinal Richard Annibaldi became protector of the Order. A prior general was appointed by the pope—in other words, not elected by the Order itself—and granted the wide-ranging powers he would need to break any resistance against the process of unification.
This act of the Great Union (Magna Unio), as it would come to be called, was the culmination of a longer and multifaceted history.19 It involved four congregations or orders, some of them reaching back to the middle of the twelfth century, whose separate communities had at first lived an eremitical life in widely different ways but had then been broken up “among the people.”
The largest congregation belonged to the so-called Williamites.20 It had its beginnings in 1158 around the grave of the hermit William of Malavalle, who did not leave behind a rule but who did have one follower who knew how to give initial guidelines on how best to live the eremitic life to the growing number of those who now sought salvation in the Tuscan solitude of Malavalle near Castiglione della Pescaia. The cult around William was first officially recognized a good twenty years later by Pope Alexander III and then again in 1202 by Innocent III. The community expanded quickly, with new settlements throughout central Italy. In 1244 it established a presence north of the Alps, and in the year of the “Great Union” it already had settlements in northern France, Germany, Bohemia, and Hungary.
Despite this success, however, the congregation was at a great disadvantage: quite against the trend of the day—one that had come to encompass all religious congregations, including eremitical ones—the Williamites’ organization remained quite primitive. There was neither a central executive authority nor a general chapter. Although its ascetic practices were extraordinarily strict, the popes repeatedly intervened to soften them and at the same time to promote unity and uniformity. In place of the old customs that reached back to William of Malavalle himself, Gregory IX prescribed for the Williamites the Rule of Saint Benedict and the normative frameworks of the Cistercians in order to free them from an eremitical stasis. But the strategy could never be successful, because such complex forms of regular life were far too large in scale to impose on small eremitical communities. Innocent IV thus began an energetic attempt to draw the Williamites away from a purely eremitical life and to move them toward the practices of pastoral care and preaching that were customary in the mendicant orders. In 1249 he recognized them as a monastic order and granted them extensive rights. Yet they remained obligated half to an eremitical life and half to a monastic life—and it was in that hybrid position, as will be seen, that the Order became a candidate for the Curia’s efforts at union in 1256.
The other three candidates were smaller congregations and never stood in the limelight of church affairs quite like the Williamites. Yet they too would receive powerful support.
The so-called Tuscan Hermits had grown together slowly in the first half of the thirteenth century from many communities scattered across Tuscany, some of them quite long established,21 before Innocent IV in 1244 prescribed the Rule of Augustine for them as a distinct congregation and required that they develop an overall organizational structure—a process aided by their protector cardinal Richard Annibaldi (noted above) and two Cistercian monks.22 A year later they received rights of preaching and confession and important exemptions from episcopal power, until they were on nearly equal footing with the Franciscans and Dominicans. In that position they too became candidates for the project of 1256.
The John-Bonites23 were followers of John Bonus, who until his death in 1249 lived for decades as a hermit on the edge of the Apennines near Cesena. His asceticism, his deep piety, and his zealous engagement for the integrity of the church made it seem that he was already a saint in his own lifetime. The number of those seeking to share in his eremitical way of life grew rapidly. They founded new communities across the Po valley, typically in the cities, from Venice to Milan. In need of a rule (which in keeping with the decrees of the Fourth Lateran Council could not be a new one), they turned to the Curia and around 1226 received the Rule of Augustine. John Bonus still sought to devote himself entirely to a contemplative life, so in 1238, like Francis, he stepped down from the leadership of a community that was rapidly becoming a more thoroughly organized order. His followers, however, sought to lead a life that reconciled eremitical retreat with pastoral responsibilities, and they received the appropriate privileges from Pope Innocent IV in 1246. But only a few years later the unity of the Order began to crumble. Defenders of the eremitical life and those who embraced pastoral care stood strongly opposed and could not be reconciled. This circumstance, too, made them candidates for the “Great Union.”
Finally, the hermits of Brettino24 emerged from a gathering of a few men who sought to find their way to God together by retreating into the solitude of the mountains around the Adriatic city of Fano, where they lived in strict poverty and asceticism as well as communal harmony. As their way of life drew more and more followers, soon additional communities had to be founded. In 1228 Innocent IV gave them the Rule of Augustine, and five years later papal confirmation of their own constitutions followed, leaving them with a normative structure similar to the Dominicans’. In 1243 they received (again from Innocent IV) rights of confession and preaching, and two years later the remaining privileges of the great mendicant orders—to which they were increasingly similar not in size and scope, but in appearance and aspiration.
Common to all four of these congregations was that through their development they had come to stand on the threshold of a shared status as purely apostolic orders—and in fact they only stood on the threshold, because none had fully renounced its eremitical past, and indeed one had been led to serious conflicts over its eremitical heritage. Seen from the other side, however, in their activities, rights, and exemptions they had come more and more to appear and in fact to function like the mendicant orders, especially the Franciscans. The political strategies of the popes in the first half of the thirteenth century, especially Gregory IX and Innocent IV, had already laid the foundations for that transformation. They no longer shied away from lending their powerful support to the old alignments of eremitic life and preaching that had once captivated Christian society—however many in the church hierarchy might have remained suspicious of that old alliance.
In the thirteenth century, eremitic asceticism still symbolized a vital piety, for those who lived both in the cities and in the countryside, and it remained the strongest possible guarantee of the certainty of salvation for those who sought to participate in its charismatic power. The Curia—no doubt influenced by the tireless work of Richard Annibaldi, who could be sure of the support of Alexander IV, his uncle25—was interested in the potential of this form of piety (even though the groups mentioned here were still scattered and imperfectly organized) for helping to bring together into more organized structures all of the pastoral work that was still waiting to be carried out more intensively. The best solution was for the popes to compel the last step over the threshold—in this case, by way of the “Great Union,” to form a new order dedicated to pastoral care and preaching and to provide for that order the rule that most of its members in any case already observed: the Rule of Augustine.
With this act the papacy once again showed both its desire and its power to intervene decisively in order to shape the world of monasteries and orders. With great flexibility, Innocent III had been able to found new orders, or at least to make their foundation possible. Honorius IV had decisively refined the structures of two of the greatest mendicant orders. And now, from Gregory IX and Innocent IV to Alexander IV, the popes had transformed one fundamental pattern of the vita religiosa into another. They had turned an eremitical life into an apostolic life and once again founded a new order.
After 1256, events did not unfold without conflict, to be sure. Distinct traditions and identities were not so easily abandoned. The Williamites managed after a short time to break away from the Union. Another band of hermits intended for the Union, from Monte Favale in the diocese of Pesaro, was never formally integrated.26 Others, like the congregation of the Poor Catholics (Pauperes catholici),27 declared their allegiance to the act of 1256, but they faced such strong internal opposition that later, in 1272, they actually had to resort to coercion in an attempt to retain their members.
Nevertheless, the Order of Augustinian Hermits, which also developed a female branch, had a successful future before it. Already in 1256, alongside its numerous Italian provinces, the Order founded new ones in western and central Europe.28 In the German province of the Order alone there were already eighty communities by the end of the thirteenth century.29 The constitutional structure of the Order was similar in general outline to those of the other established orders,30 and like the Dominicans, the Augustinian Hermits placed special emphasis on the theological education of their members. For both orders, Paris thus became central for that enterprise.31
In the interests of self-preservation, but also to assert themselves against their competitors, the Augustinian Hermits established for themselves a firm identity that was anchored in a past that reached back far beyond 1256, one that could therefore seem magnificent in comparison to those of the other orders. Among the first to articulate an elaborate vision of that past was Henry of Friemar, an Augustinian Hermit from Erfurt, in his work On the Origins and Growth of the Order of Brother Hermits (De origine et progressu ordinis fratrum eremitarum).32 This treatise, written in 1334, transformed the church father Augustine himself into a hermit.33 Henry proposed, among other things, that the Desert Fathers of Egypt had in fact founded the eremitical life, but that Augustine in particular had founded the way of life of the Augustinian Hermits when he had once lived for an extended time among the hermits of Tuscany and had given them a rule:
And when in the wilderness of Tuscany he had found many hermits with one holy way of life, he came at last to our place, which was called Centumcellae. This was, as it is said [ut dicitur], the first community of our order, and Augustine lived among these brothers for two years. After he had then made good progress in the knowledge of the faith, he wrote a rule for their way of life and gave it to them. All of this can be surmised from the old, unabridged legends [ex antiquis legendis non abbreviatis].34
Henry then developed this basic line of argument further still, claiming, for example, that Augustine had already worn the habit of the Augustinian Hermits in his own day.35 For Henry it seemed quite clear that the Order of Augustinian Hermits could not only boast of a founder of incomparable rank but also that it was tied to a venerable tradition—one that was far older than those of its competitors, the Dominicans and the Franciscans.36
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1 On the following, see Joachim Smet and Ulrich Dobhan, Die Karmeliten (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1981); Joachim Smet, The Carmelites, 2nd ed., vol. 1 (Darien, IL: Carmelite Spiritual Center, 1988); Frances Andrews, The Other Friars (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell, 2006), 7–68.
2 Jacques de Vitry, “Historia Hierosolimitana,” ed. Jacques Bongar, in Gesta Dei per Francos (Hannover, 1611), 1:1074; Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 18–19.
3 See p. 199.
4 Bede Edwards, ed., The Rule of Saint Albert (Aylesford: Carmelite Book Service, 1973); Carlo Cicconetti, La regola del Carmelo (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1973); Kevin Alban, ed., The Carmelite Rule 1207–2007 (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 2008); Steven Payne, The Carmelite Tradition (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2011), 1–9.
5 Edwards, The Rule of Saint Albert, 79.
6 An overview appears in the classic work of Steven Runciman, A History of the Crusades, vols. 2 and 3 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1952, 1955).
7 Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 25–27.
8 Richard Copsey, ed., Carmel in Britain: Essays on the Medieval English Carmelite Province, vol. 3, The Hermits from Mount Carmel (Rome: Edizioni Carmelitane, 2004).
9 Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 28–31.
10 Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 29.
11 Adrianus Staring, ed., “Four Bulls of Innocent IV, a Critical Edition,” Carmelus 27 (1980): 273–85.
12 Edwards, The Rule of Saint Albert.
13 Adrian Staring, ed., “Nicolai Prioris Generalis Ordinis Carmelitarum Ignea Sagitta,” Carmelus 10 (1962): 237–307; The Flaming Arrow (Ignea sagitta) by Nicholas, prior general of the Carmelite Order, 1266–1271, trans. and intro. Bede Edwards (Internet-edition: http://www.carmelitanacollection.com/The Ignea Sagitta.pdf); Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 40–42; Andrew Jotischky, The Carmelites and Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 79–105; Steven Payne, The Carmelite Tradition (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2011), 10–20.
14 Staring, “Nicolai Prioris,” 298–99; Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 41.
15 Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 37–39.
16 Ludovico Saggi, ed., “Constitutiones Capituli Londinensis anni 1281,” Analecta Ordinis Carmelitarum Calceatorum 15 (1950): 208; Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 36; Jotischky, The Carmelites and Antiquity, 106–49.
17 Smet and Dobhan, Die Karmeliten, 43–45.
18 Benignus van Luijk, ed., Bullarium Ordinis Eremitarum S. Augustini. Periodus formationis 1187–1256 (Würzburg: Augustinus, 1964), no. 163, 128–30.
19 On the following, see Kaspar Elm, “Italienische Eremitengemeinschaften des 12. und 13. Jahrhunderts. Studien zur Vorgeschichte des Augustiner-Eremitenordens,” in L’eremitismo in Occidente nei secoli XI e XII (Milan: Vita e pensiero, 1965), 491–559; David Gutiérrez, Geschichte des Augustinerordens, vol. 1, Die Augustiner im Mittelalter 1256–1356 (Würzburg: Augustinus-Verlag, 1985); Cristina Andenna, “‘Non est haec vita apostolica, sed confusio babylonica.’ L’invenzione di un ordine nel secolo XIII,” in Regulae—Consuetudines—Statuta, ed. Cristina Andenna and Gert Melville (Münster: LIT, 2005), 569–632; Andrews, The Other Friars, 69–172.
20 On the following, see Kaspar Elm, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Wilhelmitenordens (Cologne: Böhlau, 1962); Andenna, “‘Non est haec vita apostolica,’” 605–8; Andrews, The Other Friars, 76–77.
21 Andenna, “‘Non est haec vita apostolica,’” 592–97; Andrews, The Other Friars, 72–76.
22 Bull “Religiosam vitam eligentibus,” in Bullarium Ordinis Eremitarum S. Augustini, 40–43, no. 46.
23 Cristina Andenna, “Urbano IV e l’istituzione dell’ordine delle clarisse,” in Andenna and Melville, Regulae—Consuetudines—Statuta, 600–605; Andrews, The Other Friars, 78–81.
24 Andenna, “Urbano IV,” 597–600; Andrews, The Other Friars, 81–82.
25 Francis Roth, “Cardinal Richard Annibaldi: First protector of the Augustinian Order,” Augustiniana 4 (1954): 5–24.
26 Gutiérrez, Geschichte des Augustinerordens, vol. 1, Die Augustiner im Mittelalter 1256–1356, 44–45; Andrews, The Other Friars, 82.
27 Andenna, “Urbano IV,” 608–10.
28 Gutiérrez, Geschichte des Augustinerordens, vol. 1, Die Augustiner im Mittelalter 1256–1356, 50–54; Pierantonio Piatti, Il movimento femminile agostiniano nel Medioevo. Momenti di storia dell’Ordine eremitano (Rome: Città nuova, 2007); Eric Saak, High Way to Heaven: The Augustinian Platform Between Reform and Reformation, 1292–1524 (Leiden: Brill, 2002).
29 Michael Klaus Wernicke, “Die Augustiner-Eremiten im Deutschland des 13. Jahrhunderts,” Analecta Augustiniana 70 (2007): 119–32.
30 Wernicke, “Die Augustiner-Eremiten,” 77–101.
31 Wernicke, “Die Augustiner-Eremiten,” 161–96.
32 Rudolph Arbesmann, ed., “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise on the Origin and Development of the Order of the Hermit Friars and Its True and Real Title,’” Augustiniana 6 (1956): 37–145.
33 On the following, see Kaspar Elm, “Die Bedeutung historischer Legitimation für Entstehung, Funktion und Bestand des mittelalterlichen Ordenswesens,” in Herkunft und Ursprung. Historische Formen der Legitimation, ed. Peter Wunderli (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1994), 71–90, here 79; Gert Melville, “Knowledge of the Origins: Constructing Identity and Ordering Monastic Life in the Middle Ages,” in Knowledge, Discipline, and Power in the Middle Ages: Essays in Honour of David Luscombe, ed. Joseph Canning et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 41–62, here 48–51; Achim Wesjohann, Mendikantische Gründungserzählungen im 13. und 14. Jahrhundert (Berlin: LIT, 2012), 533–36.
34 Arbesmann, “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise,’” 96.
35 Arbesmann, “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise,’” 98.
36 Arbesmann, “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise,’” 109.