Apostate Nuns in The Later Middle Ages

Studies in the History of Medieval Religion
VOLUME XLIX
apostate nuns in the

later middle ages
ISSN 0955–2480
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Christopher Harper-Bill
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Frances Andrews
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apostate nuns in the
later middle ages
elizabeth makowski
the boydell press

© Elizabeth Makowski 2019
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Contents
Preface vii
Acknowledgements xi
List of Abbreviations xiii
Introduction 1
Part I The Vowed Life

1 Spiritual Ideal and Legal Realities 25
Part II Casting Off the Habit of Religion

2 Force and Fear 45
3 Land, Lust, and Love 78
4 Diversions and Disasters 105
Part III Prodigals Return

5 Penitents and Penalties 137
6 Recidivists and Renegades 159
Conclusion 183
Bibliography 201
Index 217
Preface
This book is about women who had taken vows to live as nuns and
who had, without canonical dispensation, abandoned their cloister
to return to secular life. It explores the way in which the developed
canon law, incorporating principles articulated in the earliest monas-
tic literature, sought to ensure adherence to religious vows, and how
the resulting legal formulations impacted the lives of these female
apostates. It spans the period from about 1300 to 1540, with both dates
being significant.
By c.1300, virtually all the major papal and conciliar legislation
that would guide decision-making about religious life for the next two
centuries, and much longer in the Roman Catholic Church, had been
codified. Like so many other areas of Church discipline – from mar-
riage law to the annual sacramental obligations of the laity – efforts to
standardize monastic practice, especially the requirements for admis-
sion to an accepted order, began in earnest in the mid-twelfth century.
From the time of Gratian’s Decretum, the process of systemization
and rationalization of canon law, the efforts to harmonize conflict-
ing ecclesiastical authorities and custom, continued apace. Academic
commentary on the resulting law would continue into the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries and it would guide jurists in coming to deci-
sions on a case-by-case basis. Publication of the principal books that
would constitute the Corpus Iuris Canonici however, signaled the
conclusion of this classical, innovative age of canonical achievement.
In conjunction with the trend to ensure uniformity of monastic
practice generally – evidenced in legislation like the Fourth Lateran
Council’s decree (1215) banning the proliferation of new orders and
Boniface VIII’s vaunted effort (1298) to impose strict enclosure upon
“all nuns of every order throughout Christendom” – rules for the
recognition, return, and reintegration of apostate regulars were also
viii preface
established. By the close of the thirteenth century, standardized norms

had superseded (or as the canonists said, rationalized) more opaque,
various, and sometimes conflicting general counsels and directives.
The cases covered here were adjudicated according to these canonical
norms; the petitions and appeals that these women filed, the dispensa-
tions they were granted, and even the narratives about their penitent
return and reentry into community all reflect these norms.
As the universal law of the Church, canonical regulations were
applicable throughout Christian Europe, with the papacy acting
as ultimate court of appeal. These regulations provided a uniform
legal framework for all pragmatic applications of the canons as they
related to apostate religious both in England and elsewhere in Europe.
Records generated by the papal curia provide evidence about apos-
tates from Aachen to Assisi, the dioceses of Utrecht and Constance to
those of Langres and Autun, and I have included a substantial number
of cases from the Continent for illustrative and comparative purposes.
Sometimes the details of those cases will differ significantly from
those found in English exemplars; more often, they will underscore
the essential sameness of the dominant cultural values that shaped
the developed canon law. Commonality of themes, and universally
applicable procedures generally outweigh the impact of regional and
even national variations in the manner with which offenders were to
be dealt.
Legal records exclusive to England, however, are particularly sig-
nificant for this study because of the unique character of the common
law, which accorded control of landed property to the king with dis-
putes about holdings and tenure pleaded in the central royal courts.
Judgments given in these courts were subsequently written down and
entered into the public record, with copies obtainable to prove title
to landed estates or a privilege attached to such title. Of benefit to
the litigious landowners of fourteenth- and fifteenth-century England,
these archived records unintentionally yield useful information about
apostates, alleged or actual.
In lawsuits regarding inheritance of property, of which there were
a great many, allegations that a would-be heir was, or had been, a
fully professed monk or nun needed to be dealt with formally before
proceeding. Remanding such questions to episcopal investigation, the
results of those inquiries, called certifications, became a part of the
case record. An additional boon for the study of apostasy in England
preface ix
is the writ system. Enlisting the cooperation of secular authorities for

the return of an apostate regular was the desideratum throughout
Western Christendom and we will find examples of its use outside of
England. However, the writ de apostata capiendo was designed specif-
ically to achieve that end in medieval England, and an extensive body
of these warrants for the capture of apostates are still to be found in
Chancery records. A source well exploited by F. Donald Logan in his
pioneering study, Runaway Religious in Medieval England 1240-1540,
I have often relied upon it as well.
Finally, this book concludes c.1540, accommodating the dissolu-
tion of the monasteries because of yet another body of legal evidence
specific to England. While the story of professed nuns forced to leave
their suppressed communities is scarcely relevant to the topic of female
apostasy, the mechanism employed to release those nuns from their
vows of religion is. Cromwell’s indults or ‘capacities’ were patterned
on nearly identical dispensations that the papacy had been issuing to
male regulars since 1390. Previously granted by the pope to the king’s
male subjects, the freedom to live outside monastic confines and free
of the vows of poverty and obedience was now granted by the king
to male and female regulars alike. Since such mandates of ‘exclaus-
tration’ allowed nuns an option that in the Roman Church would be
unavailable to them until the early modern era, their implications for
late medieval female apostasy cannot be overlooked.
The women featured in these pages acted, and were acted upon,
by the law – alleged apostates petitioned for redress and actual apos-
tates sought to extricate themselves, via self-help, petition, and litiga-
tion, from the moral and legal consequences of their behavior. In an
important sense then, the case studies assembled here contribute to
a growing body of research on gender, law, and female agency in the
Middle Ages. That research in turn provides us with yet another lens
through which we can view the actions of female apostates. For exam-
ple, Cordelia Beattie’s observations about the gendered aspects of
social classification in late medieval England, Medieval Single Women:
The Politics of Social Classification in Late Medieval England, bring
an added dimension to our discussion of the way in which canon law
prioritized religious status (rather than gender) in its treatment of
male and female apostates. Caroline Dunn’s study, Stolen Women in
Medieval England: Rape, Abduction, and Adultery, 1100–1500, helps us
to frame viable explanations for allegations of consensual abduction
x preface
of apostate nuns from their monasteries. And apostate nuns read-

ily find a place within the larger narrative of female participation in
medieval legal culture in light of work on married women and widows
as litigants in the canon and common law courts.
What legal sources can tell us about female apostasy then is con-
siderable. By nature, however, these sources are terse, formulaic, legal
instruments that seldom provide much detail about motives, circum-
stances or even outcomes in cases once a mandate had been deliv-
ered. To help shed light on issues about which documents produced
to regulate, penalize, or absolve apostates remain mute, recent studies
on topics that range from late medieval female spirituality and peni-
tential practice, to the devastating effects of the plague on nunneries,
have proven invaluable. I incorporate this secondary literature too,
whenever possible.
Acknowledgements
I gratefully acknowledge the research opportunities and finan-

cial assistance afforded me by Texas State University, via Research
Enhancement grants, throughout the years devoted to writing this
book. I thank the dean of Liberal Arts, and fellow historian, Mary
Brennen, for her friendship and her consistent support of this project.
My colleagues in the History Department continue to inspire and to
maintain the congenial ambience that has long been the hallmark of
the Department. Particular thanks to Kenneth Margerison, for reading
an early draft of this manuscript and offering many helpful com-
ments, to Lynn Denton for sustained encouragement, and to Louie
Dean Valencia and Adam Clark for generous technical assistance.
Thanks to the expert and helpful library staff at the Pontifical
Institute of Medieval Studies, St. Michael’s College, Toronto; the
British Library; The National Archives; and the University of Leeds; as
well as to fellow participants at the Fourteenth International Congress
of Medieval Canon Law in Toronto, August 2012. The proceedings of
that conference have been published and include my presentation:
“The Curious Case of Mary Felton,” Monumenta Iuris Canonici Series
C: Subsidia 15 (Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 2016),
733–743. I also appreciate the input of panelists at the ICMAC (Iuris
canonici medii aevi consociatio) session of the Leeds International
Medieval Congress, July 2014, at which I delivered a version of what
would develop into Chapter 1 of this book.
Colleagues near and far have offered valuable insights, sugges-
tions, and enthusiastic support, and I owe many long-standing debts
of gratitude. Special thanks here to Susan Morrison, Elizabeth Marvel,
Thomas Izbicki, Helen Lacey, Jennifer Kolpacoff Deane, and Sor
Alexandra Martinez and the Benedictine sisters of the Monastery of
the Ascension, Zamora.
xii acknowledgements
I appreciate the informed criticisms of anonymous readers of

drafts of this manuscript; they challenged me to rethink and to refine
my original ideas for this book. Thanks to Rebecca Cribb and the other
dedicated professionals at Boydell and Brewer, and once again, special
thanks to the Editorial Director, Caroline Palmer.
Abbreviations
BF Bullarium Franciscanum, ed. Konrad Eubel (Rome: Typis

Vaticanis, 1898)
BOP Bullarium ordinis fratrum praedicatorum, ed. E. T. Ripoll, 8
vols. (Rome, 1729–1740)
BR Bullarium Romanorum, 25 vols. (Turin, 1857–1872)
C Early Chancery Proceedings: Equity Suits before 1558
(London, The National Archives)
CCR Calendar of the Close Rolls Preserved in the Public Record
Office. Henry VI, ed. William Henry Bird (Nendeln: Kraus
Reprint, 1971)
CIPM Calendar of Inquisitions Post Mortem and Other Analogous
Documents Preserved in the Public Record Office (London:
Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1904)
CJC Corpus iuris canonici, ed. Emil Friedberg, 2 vols.
(Leipzig, 1879–1881; repr. Graz: Akademische Druck-u.
Verlagsanstalt, 1959)
CPL Calendar of Entries in the Papal Registers Relating to Great
Britain and Ireland: Papal Letters, ed. William Henry Bliss
(London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1893)
CPP Calendar of Entries in the Papal Registers Relating to Great
Britain and Ireland: Petitions to the Pope, A.D. 1342–1419,
ed. William Henry Bliss (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode,
1896)
xiv abbreviations
CPR Calendar of Patent Rolls Preserved in the Public Record Office

(London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1891–)
DDC Dictionnaire de droit canonique, ed. R. Naz, 7 vols. (Paris:
Letouzey et Ané, 1935–1965)
DMA Dictionary of the Middle Ages, ed. Joseph Strayer, 13 vols.
(New York: Scribner’s, 1982–1989)
E Records of the Exchequer, and its Related Bodies, with
those of the Office of First Fruits and Tenths, and the Court
of Augmentations (London, The National Archives)
GO Johannes Andreae, Glossa Ordinaria, in Corpus Iuris
Canonici (Venice, 1584)
ODNB Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2004; online edition, 2008): http://www.
oxforddnb.com/
RPG Repertorium Poenitentiariae Germanicum, ed. Ludwig
Schmugge, Paolo Ostinelli, and Hans Braun [Verzeichnis
der in den Supplikenregistern der Pönitentiarie
vorkommenden Personen, Kirchen, und Orte des
Deutschen Reiches] (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1996)
SC Special Collections (London, The National Archives)
VCH Victoria History of the Counties of England, online at:
www.british-history.ac.uk
VI Liber Sextus in Corpus Iuris Canonici (Venice, 1584)
X Liber Extra in Corpus Iuris Canonici (Venice, 1584)
Introduction
“The eternal law of righteousness ordains that he who will not submit
to God’s sweet rule shall suffer the bitter tyranny of self: but he
who wears the easy yoke and light burden of love (Matthew 11:30)
will escape the intolerable weight of his own self-will.”1 Bernard of
Clairvaux ultimately incorporated these words into his treatise On
Loving God, but they were originally part of a letter sent to a group
of Carthusians.2 Since the Carthusians belonged to one of the most
austere religious orders of the day, these monks might have had a
special need for the saint’s reminder that the tyranny of self-will
exacted an even heavier toll than did the burdens imposed upon them
by their monastic rule. But while religious in other orders did not
subject themselves to anything like Carthusian rigors (the customs
and constitutions of specific orders were not uniform; nor were
requirements for male and female religious, even those belonging to
the same order, identical), all would have needed encouragement to
persevere in a vocation from which death alone afforded a legitimate
escape. For medieval canon law insisted that monastic vows, taken
1 Hoc quippe ad aeternam justamque Dei legem pertinuit, ut qui a Deo

noluit suaviter regi, poenaliter a seipso regeretur: quique sponte jugum
suave et onus leve charitatis abjecit, propriae voluntatis onus importabile
sustineret invitus. Bernard of Clairvaux, De Diligendo Deo. CAPUT XIII.
De lege propriae voluntatis et cupiditatis, servorum et mercenariorum:
http://www.pathsoflove.com/bernard/on-loving-god.html [accessed 13
November 2012].
2 Giles Constable, “Liberty and Free Choice in Monastic Thought and Life,
Especially in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries,” in La Notion De Liberté
Au Moyen Age: Islam, Byzance, Occident, ed. George Makdisi, Dominique
Sourdel, and Janine Sourdel-Thomine (Paris: Société ‘Édition Les Belles
Lettres, 1985), 104.
2 apostate nuns in the later middle ages
freely, were never to be freely abandoned; as the Glossa Ordinaria, the

standard commentary on medieval canon law, put it, “To make a vow
is a matter of the will; to fulfill one is a matter of necessity.”3
Most, but not all, of the nuns treated in this book satisfied the first
of these canonical dictates: They had professed their vows willingly
and in so doing had created a legally binding commitment to the
monastic life. They then failed, however, to fulfill that commitment.
By virtue of leaving their religious houses and reentering secular soci-
ety they became apostates, and although their motives were nearly as
various as the individuals involved, the very act of abandoning the
religious life gave them this uniform legal status.
As the lay man or woman became an apostate by rejecting the
Christian faith subsequent to baptism, so medieval religious became
apostates when they rejected their freely chosen vowed life subse-
quent to formal profession.4 By the end of the thirteenth century, the
point at which this study begins, the developed canon law had estab-
lished some clear juridical standards when dealing with apostates. If
religious women or men fled their monasteries after making solemn
profession, and their departures were unauthorized, Church law auto-
matically deemed them excommunicates. Consequently, if runaways
could not prove that their vows had been coerced or otherwise inval-
idated, they might be forcibly returned to their communities; if they
remained at large in the world, their prospects for legitimate marriage
and family life would be seriously jeopardized. Unlicensed exit from
a monastery, accompanied by a ‘casting off’ of the religious habit, was
termed apostasia a religio and it entailed severe censures for both
monks and nuns.
Of course, not all vows of religious profession had been “taken
freely” and so not all of the alleged apostates whom we will encounter
actually proved to be apostates. Monastic superiors or local bishops
3 GO ad X 3.34.6. Peter of Blois expressed it eloquently: “It is unsuitable for

the commitment to religious life to be imposed with force, especially since
according to Scripture forced service is not pleasing to the Lord. If carnal
marriage enjoys a recognized liberty, spiritual marriage is privileged with
a fuller grace of liberty, for where the spirit is, there is liberty.” Epistle 54,
as quoted in Constable, “Liberty and Free Choice,” 107.
4 DDC 1, 664–674 contains a detailed summary of the development of the
canon law regarding apostasy from religion, in contrast to apostasy from
the Christian faith.
introduction 3
might charge that a nun had fled her community without permission,
taken off her religious habit, and in some instances even married, but
the woman herself might counter such charges, claiming that she had
never been a validly professed nun in the first place and so could not
now be censured as an apostate. If her claim could be proven, she
would be exonerated since by the close of the thirteenth century, the
developed canon law had established norms for determining ipso iure
profession, which jurists applied to such claims.
The procedures for the application of these norms will be detailed
in Chapter 2, but suffice it to say that if a woman had been forced to
take vows, if she had been too young to make an informed free pro-
fession, or if she could prove other technical irregularities, she could
file a petition to have her vows invalidated by canonical decree of nul-
lification. Only upon receipt of such a decree would she would be free
to leave her community and reenter secular society. In order to avoid
being alleged an apostate nun then, the victim of such machinations
would have been required to file her petition while still residing in,
and wearing the habit of, the monastery to which she had been sent.
For example, in 1289 Beatrice of Burgundy filed a petition for nulli-
fication claiming that, while still under canonical age for entry into
religion, she had been unwillingly taken to the Benedictine monas-
tery of Baume-les-Dames in the diocese of Besançon and there com-
pelled “by force and fear sufficient to move the constant man” (vim et
metum quod cadere poterat in constantem virum) to don the habit of
the order. Pope Nicholas IV recognized the illegality of her profession
and allowed her to freely reenter secular society. Then, and only then,
did Beatrice leave Baume-les-Dames.
Lacking the financial means and opportunity afforded Beatrice of
Burgundy, some young women who had been similarly compelled ran
away first and asked permission later, if at all. These women were con-
sequently labeled apostates, since instead of filing petitions while still
vested in the habits of their orders, they had fled their houses regardless
of the immediate consequences. One such was Margareta de la Scarpa
of Arezzo, whose 1481 petition to the Papal Penitentiary was filed only
when, having fled her house of Poor Clares, she wished to remain in
the world and freely contract a valid marriage. Like Margareta, other
alleged apostates would have to prove that they had never in fact been
legitimately professed nuns in order to rid themselves of the onus, and
the penalties, attached to that label.
More rarely, but no less poignantly, we will also encounter qua-

si-religious women whose lifestyles so resembled that of professed
nuns that when they left their communities they might be regarded
by fellow religious and local laity alike as apostates, although they
were nothing of the kind. Such was the plight of Alheydis Wnandi
of Utrecht, whose 1472 Penitentiary petition asked for permission to
leave a community of beguines and to live as a secular on the grounds
that her mother had used various threats to compel her to enter that
community. Since beguines were devout laywomen who lived chastely
and in common but who were not bound by formal monastic vows
(similar communities had arisen simultaneously throughout conti-
nental Europe), Alheydis need not have requested permission to leave;
she had not taken solemn monastic vows of profession as a nun, and
so her departure involved neither the penalty of excommunication
nor the charge of apostasy.5
But by the time Alheydis had entered her beguine house, popular
perceptions of beguines as nuns had been reinforced by Church law.
There was an increased tendency to treat beguine and tertiary com-
munities as monastic environs – the great closed complexes or curtis
beguinages, built in response to ecclesiastical mandates, very much
resembled monasteries – and the option for strict enclosure afforded
tertiaries after 1476 would further obscure distinctions between nuns
and quasi-religious women.6 To local people, unacquainted with the
finer points of canon law, Alheydis’s departure might well have been
seen as apostasy; no wonder that to live among them as a reputable
laywoman she had felt required to have that papal determination to
the contrary.
Finally, we find nuns who by all canonical measures were techni-
cally apostates, yet who do not fit comfortably within that category.
Apostasy implies a decision to permanently separate oneself from
religious life and these women seldom appear to have made such a
5 Elizabeth Makowski, “A Pernicious Sort of Woman”: Quasi-Religious

Women and Canon Lawyers in the Later Middle Ages (Washington: The
Catholic University of America Press, 2005), Introduction. See also Chap-
ter 2.
6 Elizabeth Makowski, Canon Law and Cloistered Women: Periculoso and its
Commentators, 1298–1545 (Washington: The Catholic University of Amer-
ica Press, 1999), 127. This will be discussed as well in Chapters 2, 3, and in
the Conclusion.
introduction 5
conscious choice. Their apostasy was almost unintentional. Some had

received permission to leave their houses temporarily, to regain health
or visit family, but once outside the confines of the cloister they chose
never to return. Others had sought escape not from their vows but
from threat of famine, war, or plague; they became apostates almost
by default, finding the dislocations of natural or manmade disasters
a solvent to resolutions made in gentler times. These women too,
regardless of their circumstances, were considered to have abandoned
the vowed life. They too were ‘runaway nuns.’
There is no dearth of stories about delinquent nuns in the Middle
Ages. Popular literature abounds with tales of ‘wayward nuns’ and in
fictions loosely stitched to the fabric of history, the sensational, sala-
cious, or sectarian have pride of place. Until quite recently, even con-
ventional scholarship betrayed similar, if more muted, biases.7 But the
main reason why earlier generations of monastic historians seldom
mentioned runaway nuns was that they seldom mentioned nuns at all.
Female religious were given scant attention in the works of esteemed
students of medieval monasticism like R. W. Southern, and nuns were
underrepresented even in exhaustive overviews like those of Dom
David Knowles and William Hinnebusch.8
With the appearance of Lina Eckenstein’s Women Under
Monasticism, Eileen Power’s Medieval English Nunneries, Michel
Parisse’s Les Nonnes Au Moyen Age, and other classics, nuns began
to become the subject of scholarly attention in their own right; con-
sequently, some examples of apostate nuns were included in the
narrative.9 Eileen Power, for example, devoted an entire chapter (sug-
gestively entitled ‘The Olde Daunce’) to the subject. Betraying both
7 For examples beginning in the Middle Ages themselves, see Graciela S.

Daichman, Wayward Nuns in Medieval Literature (Syracuse: Syracuse
University Press, 1986).
8 David Knowles, The Religious Orders in England (Cambridge, UK: Cam-
bridge University Press, 1948; 1959). William Hinnebusch, The History of
the Dominican Order (Staten Island, NY: Alba House, 1966).
9 Lina Eckenstein, Women under Monasticism (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1896). Eileen Power, Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275
to 1535 (New York: Biblo and Tannen, 1964). Anne Francis Claudine Bour-
dillon, The Order of Minoresses in England, British Society of Francis-
can Studies 12 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1926). Michel
Parisse, Les Nonnes Au Moyen Age (Le Puy: C. Bonneton, 1983).
a cultural conservativism and a sectarian edge common to the era,

Power’s work nevertheless remains a watershed in what has recently
become a flood tide of scholarship on medieval women religious and
their communities.
Surveys of medieval monasticism now routinely include mention
of female orders, both formal and informal, and more specialized
studies proliferate.10 The international scope of this scholarly output,
coupled with its chronological range – extending from the earliest
monastic foundations to the end of the Middle Ages – makes even
a cursory overview impossible within the limits of this Introduction.
Focusing on English-language monographs alone, the task is still fool-
hardy, given the variety of approaches and topics. Alison Beach, for
example, writes on Bavarian nuns as scribes and manuscript copy-
ists, Anne Winston-Allen treats of the reform literature written by
German nuns, and Daniel Bornstein’s contributions include an edi-
tion of a chronicle produced by a Venetian nun.11 Fiona Griffiths,
Nancy Bradley Warren, Janet Burton, Sean Field, and Bernice Kerr,
to name a very few, explore patterns of monastic religious observance
and devotional practice, and the bonds of association forged and
maintained both between nuns and their lay patrons, as well as nuns
and the male religious who provided pastoral care.12
10 C. H. Lawrence, Medieval Monasticism: Forms of Religious Life in Western

Europe in the Middle Ages (London and New York: Routledge, 2015). This
fourth edition of a work published for the first time in 1984 is a fine exam-
ple of the former.
11 Anne Winston-Allen, Convent Chronicles: Women Writing about Women
and Reform in the Late Middle Ages (University Park: Pennsylvania State
University Press, 2004). Alison Beach, Women as Scribes: Book Produc-
tion and Monastic Reform in Twelfth-century Bavaria (Cambridge, UK:
Cambridge University Press, 2004). Daniel Bornstein, Life and Death in a
Venetian Convent: The Chronicle and Necrology of Corpus Domini, 1395–
1436 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000).
12 Fiona Griffiths and Julie Hotchin, “Partners in Spirit: Women, Men, and
Religious Life in Germany, 1100–1500” (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014). Sean L.
Field, Isabelle of France: Capetian Sanctity and Franciscan Identity in the
Thirteenth Century. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2006).
Berenice Kerr, Religious Life for Women from the Twelfth Century to the
Middle of the Fourteenth Century with Special Reference to the English
Foundations of the Order of Fontevraud (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1995). Paul Lee, Nunneries, Learning, and Spirituality in Late Medieval
introduction 7
Institutional and organizational distinctions among female monas-

tic orders, canonical regulation of those orders, fiscal management of
monastic resources, and the organic evolution of informal religious
communities into the recognized orders, are among the topics that
have engaged historians like Marilyn Oliva, Constance Berman, and
Anne Lester.13 Nuns have now joined their widowed and married
counterparts in scholarship focusing on gender and female agency in a
legal context.14 Remarkable individual founders, and influential mys-
tics, have been investigated by Bridget Morris, Elisabeth Lopez, Joan
Mueller, and Mary Jeremy Finnegan.15 Crossing conventional disci-
English Society: The Dominican Priory of Dartford (York: York Medieval

Press, 2010). Nancy Bradley Warren, Spiritual Economies: Female Monas-
ticism in Later Medieval England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylva-
nia Press, 2001). Janet Burton and Karen Stöber, Women in the Medieval
Monastic World (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015).
13 Anne E. Lester, Creating Cistercian Nuns (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
2011). Constance Berman, The White Nuns Cistercian Abbeys for Women
in Medieval France (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018).
See also, Berman, The Cistercian Evolution: The Invention of a Religious
Order in Twelfth-Century Europe (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylva-
nia, 2010); Berman, Women and Monasticism in Medieval Europe: Sisters
and Patrons of the Cistercian Reform (Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Pub-
lications, 2002). Marilyn Oliva, The Convent and the Community in Late
Medieval England Female Monasteries in the Diocese of Norwich, 1350–1540
(Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 1998).
14 Elizabeth Makowski, English Nuns and the Law in the Middle Ages: Clois-
tered Nuns and their Lawyers, 1293–1540 (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press,
2011). Scholarship on laywomen as active agents at law includes Mavis
Mate, Daughters, Wives, and Widows After the Black Death: Women in
Sussex, 1350–1535 (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 1998). Emma Hawkes,
“She will … Protect and Defend her Rights Boldly by Law and Rea-
son: Women’s Knowledge of Common Law and Equity Courts in Late
Medieval England,” in Medieval Women and the Law, ed. N. J. Menuge
(Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 2000). P. J. P. Goldberg, “Gender and
Matrimonial Litigation in the Church Courts in the Late Middle Ages:
The Evidence of the Court of York,” Gender and History 19, no. 01 (2007),
43–59. Cordelia Beattie, “Your Oratrice: Women’s Petitions to the Late
Medieval Court of Chancery,” in Women, Agency and the Law, 1300–1700,
ed. Bronach Kane and Fiona Williamson (London: Pickering & Chatto,
2013).
15 Bridget Morris, St. Birgitta of Sweden (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press,
1999). Elisabeth Lopez, Colette of Corbie (St. Bonaventure, NY: Francisan
plinary and geographical boundaries, historians like Roberta Gilchrist

have started to explore the female monastic experience from the
bottom up, integrating archeology and studies of material culture.16
As will become evident in the following chapters, more than a little
of this recent scholarship on nuns within their monasteries informs
my treatment of nuns outside of them. Specialized contributions
on aspects of late medieval monasticism are invaluable in explicat-
ing some of the norms and nuances of convent life that affected (and
sometimes effected) apostasy in that same era. What Winston-Allen,
Bornstein, and Bruce Venarde, for instance, reveal about admission
criteria in late medieval nunneries – some admitted only women
from the most privileged social classes – allows us to better under-
stand why, for minor aristocrats in particular, the prospect of reclaim-
ing an inheritance forfeited by monastic profession might tempt to
apostasy.17 Caroline Bynum’s classic treatment of the distinctive,
passion-oriented female piety of the late Middle Ages, provides con-
text for coming to terms with the rigorous devotional and penitential
practices commonly imposed on returning apostates;18 so too, Renate
Blumenfeld-Kosinski’s evocative look at the fourteenth-century
visionary, Ermine de Reims.19 Studies of the strict regime prescribed
for nuns by zealous reformers like Colette of Corbie can deepen our
appreciation of the motives of some nuns who resisted, even to the
point of apostasy, their imposition. Cordelia Warr’s work on the dis-
Institute, St. Bonaventure University, 2011). Mary Jeremy Finnnegan, The

Women of Helfta (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1991). Joan Muel-
ler, The Privilege of Poverty: Claire of Assisi, Agnes of Prague, and the Strug-
gle for a Franciscan Rule for Women (Philadelphia: Pennsylvania State
Press, 2008).
16 Roberta Gilchrist, Gender and Material Culture: The Archaeology of Reli-
gious Women (London and New York: Routledge, 1997). Roberta Gilchrist
and Marilyn Oliva, Religious Women in Medieval East Anglia History and
Archaeology c1100–1540 (Norwich: Centre of East Anglian Studies, Univer-
sity of East Anglia, 1993).
17 Bruce L. Venarde, Women’s Monasticism and Medieval Society: Nunneries
in France and England, 890–1215 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997).
18 Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Signif-
icance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1987).
19 Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski, The Strange Case of Ermine de Reims (Phila-
delphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015).
introduction 9
tinctive habits worn by different orders of nuns, and the special signifi-
cance of the veil in rites of profession, can clarify the rituals prescribed
for readmitting repentant apostates and the penitential discipline to
which prodigals were subject.20 Roberta Gilchrist’s examination of the
forms and functions of monastic buildings can suggest reasons why
a community might have found it difficult to isolate an unrepentant
apostate from her sisters.
All of this having been said, amid this rich and useful trove of cur-
rent scholarship on nuns in community, the topic of nuns who leave
their monasteries remains neglected. Historians of monasticism natu-
rally and consistently focus on life within, not outside of, the cloister.
They are properly concerned with institutional structures, devotional
practices, dynamics of patronage, and the economic fabric of monas-
tic life, rather than an individual nun’s rejection of it. Other than a
few case studies, the topic of female apostasy has not been given the
attention it warrants.
When we turn to studies of the canon law of apostasy from reli-
gious life, the gap in scholarship becomes even wider. The law per-
taining to monks has been surveyed, but as Laurent Mayali points out,
even studies of the juridical status of male apostates are rare, and all of
them are dated; with the exception of the catalogue of counciliar and
pontifical sources that is A. J. Riesner’s 1942 dissertation, Apostates
and Fugitives from Religious Institutes, such overviews are unavailable
in English.21 And although much of the medieval canon law regarding
apostate monks was applicable to nuns as well, much of it was not. The
only full-scale study that even touches on this telling fact and teases
20 Lopez, Colette of Corbie. Cordelia Warr, Dressing for Heaven: Religious

Clothing in Italy, 1215–1545 (Manchester: Manchester University Press,
2010). Cordelia Warr, “Religious Dress in Italy in the Late Middle Ages,”
in Defining Dress, ed. Amy de la Haye and Elizabeth Wilson (Manchester:
Manchester University Press, 1999).
21 Laurent Mayali, “Du vagabondage à l’apostasie. Le moine fugitive dans
la société médiévale,” in Religiöse Devianz : Untersuchungen Zu Sozialen,
Rechtlichen Und Theologischen Reaktionen Auf Religiöse Abweichung Im
Westlichen Und Östlichen Mittelalter, ed. Dieter Simon (Frankfurt am
Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1990), 121–142. Mayali references Albert
Joseph Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives from Religious Institutes (Wash-
ington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1942). See also: Anacleto
Gurzó, De Apostasia a Religione Et De Fuga: Dissertatio Historico-Juridica.
Claudiopoli (Turkey: Typis Typographiae S. Bonaventurae, 1943).
out some of the gendered distinctions it implies is Donald Logan’s

Runaway Religious in Medieval England.22 The reader will find many
references to Logan’s seminal work here, since he sympathetically, if
briefly, treats of both sexes when discussing religious apostasy, and
includes several important case studies. As the title denotes, however,
Logan confines himself exclusively to the English experience.
There is then, a need to more fully understand the practical and
legal problems facing women religious who chose to reject the terms
of their profession as nuns. By looking at how the developed canon
law was applied to apostate nuns not only in England but in late medi-
eval Europe generally, I hope to address that need. And while this is
far from an exhaustive overview, the cases presented here are repre-
sentative of the broad spectrum of motives and means employed by
late medieval nuns who felt that they needed to escape their cloisters.
With the exception of cases used to illustrate the evolution of the law
in Chapter 1, virtually all of the examples of female apostasy discussed
here come from the period after 1300. I begin at this juncture for two
reasons. First, although apostasy had been an issue acknowledged by
monastic leaders since the earliest days of monasticism in the West
– St. Benedict’s criteria functioned as a cornerstone of the evolved
canon law – the hazy and even conflicting papal and counciliar legis-
lation regarding runaways had not begun to be rationalized until the
renaissance in jurisprudence of the twelfth century. And it was only as
this classical period in the history of canon law drew to a close that the
canonical status of apostate regulars, female as well as male, was clari-
fied and, like so many other facets of Church law, codified.23
The legal revival was launched by Gratian’s Decretum, a system-
atic and authoritative, if unofficial, collection of earlier Church law
which was included as the first book in the Corpus Iuris Canonici: the
body of universal canon law that remained in place until a revision
22 F. Donald Logan, Runaway Religious in Medieval England, c. 1240–1540

(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
23 James A. Brundage, Medieval Canon Law (London: Longman, 1950). This
remains one of the few surveys of the era in English. The History of the
Medieval Canon Law in the Classical Period, ed. Wilfried Hartmann and
Kenneth Pennington (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of Amer-
ica Press, 2008), provides expert detailed information on the period from
1140 to 1234. Other volumes in that series are pending.
introduction 11
of the code in 1918. The second book, the Liber Extra, was published
by Pope Gregory IX in 1234 and it extended Gratian’s range. It was
an official collection of papal letters, called decretals, which had been
edited to extract essential rules of law. The Corpus Iuris would be com-
pleted with the incorporation of four more decretal collections: the
Liber Sextus, issued by Pope Boniface VIII (1294–1303) and includ-
ing his decree on the universal cloistering of nuns, Periculoso; the
Clementines, which included the decrees of the Council of Vienne as
well as decretals of Pope Clement V (1305–1313); and two shorter col-
lections published during the reign of Pope John XXII (1316–1334),
known as the Extravagantes.
The second reason for beginning in the later medieval period is
that this veritable renaissance in legal compilation and rationaliza-
tion was accompanied by the professionalization of practitioners of
the law.24 Cases involving the canon law would more and more often
be adjudicated by university-trained jurists and on the basis of devel-
oped, standardized law, as codified in the Corpus Iuris Canonici. In
arriving at their decisions ecclesiastical officials, be they local ordinar-
ies or lawyers in the Papal Penitentiary, were uniformly guided by the
canons contained therein, as well as by the academic commentary that
the Corpus generated. Papal bulls and indulgences, issued with greater
frequency in the waning days of the Middle Ages, supplemented both
case law and commentary, and often reflected the quotidian realities
of a brutal era marked by the ravages of famine, plague, and war.
By the start of the fourteenth century then, we see clearly the line-
aments of canonical regulation of apostasy emerge, and they retain an
essential stability and consistency well into the early modern period.
This law was grounded in centuries of tradition, regulation and pious
counsel about runaway religious which, theoretically, was gender neu-
tral: Men as well as women were required to honor their vows, and
monks as well as nuns were to be compelled to return to monastic
life if they had attempted to escape it. In his fiat, Ut periculoso, Pope
Boniface VIII prescribed automatic excommunication as a penalty
for professed monks who ‘cast off their habits’ without permission in
order to pursue legal or medical studies, and this ipso facto sentence
24 James A. Brundage, Medieval Origins of the Legal Profession: Canonists,

Civilians, and Courts (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008).
was extended to include nuns as well.25 If apostates, male or female,

married subsequent to their monastic profession, the same canonical
measures were applied to resolve the issue.26 It was generally accepted,
furthermore, that runaway monks as well as nuns were to be com-
pelled, with the aid of secular officials, to return to their communities;
in England, standardized writs de apostata capiendo were filed by the
head of a house or local monastic ordinary, enlisting the aid of the
Crown itself in such returns.
Gender is only one variable that those making decisions about
who falls into what category might choose when attempting to clas-
sify individuals as members of a group, sharing an identity and a par-
ticular place in the legal or social structure.27 In the case of apostate
religious, the canonists chose to prioritize the essential equivalence of
the Christian soul in its stead. But if the canon law ignored gendered
distinctions when it came to apostate religious, it certainly did not
when it established the norms regarding the proper sphere of activ-
ity for women within the Church – norms which would in turn seri-
ously limit the available options, short of apostasy, for disgruntled
nuns, while broadening those options for monks. In the later Middle
Ages, we witness an even more marked, gender-determined, tendency
toward further restriction of female regulars. For example, Ut pericu-
loso prescribed excommunication for monks who left their commu-
nities for university study without the permission of their superiors,
but nuns would never have had that temptation since, like all women,
they were simply barred from attending these new institutions. And
after 1298, professed nuns would have still fewer opportunities to leave
their cloisters even on a temporary basis.
In that year Pope Boniface VIII published another cautionary
mandate regarding monastic life, this time aimed exclusively at female
regulars. The decree Periculoso, required strict enclosure of “nuns of
every community or order, in every part of the world, both collectively
25 VI 3.24.2. See also Chapter 1 for an in-depth review of this important

legislation.
26 Richard Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law (Athens, GA: Uni-
versity of Georgia Press, 1996), 243–256.
27 For an excellent overview of the mechanisms of, and rationale for, late
medieval classificatory schemes, see Cordelia Beattie, Medieval Single
Women: The Politics of Social Classification in Late Medieval England
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).
introduction 13
and individually.” It sought to restrict both exit from and entrance

into monastic precincts – referred to respectively as ‘active’ and ‘pas-
sive’ enclosure.28 “Reasonable and obvious cause” might mitigate
claustration, but only upon receipt of a “special license” granted by
the “appropriate authority.” Boniface included Periculoso in his offi-
cial compilation of canon law, the Liber Sextus. He then sent copies of
his collection to the law faculties of universities throughout Europe,
since it would be the job of academic canon lawyers to interpret and
to clarify the laws it contained.
In each instance, early commentators tended to a strict interpre-
tation of the pope’s words. Only the local official, usually a bishop,
who had jurisdiction over a monastery of nuns could grant licenses
lifting enclosure. A professed nun might indeed be compelled to abide
by Periculoso, even if that meant living under obligations stricter
than those she had vowed to observe. Abbesses, as nuns, were bound
by the rules of enclosure, so could not possibly conduct visitations
of houses under their jurisdiction. The ecclesiastical sanction with
which the pope had threatened violators was to be understood as
excommunication.29
Nuns in traditional orders throughout Europe resisted the impo-
sition of Periculoso, making a convincing case against enclosure on
economic grounds. Without continued access to the larger world,
they claimed, they would be impoverished. Were they to keep to their
cloisters, they would not be able to oversee collection of rents, litiga-
tion over property, and sundry other business affairs crucial to the
economic health of their houses. If fallen on hard times, they would
no longer be able to go out to beg for alms or make visits to relatives
and friends to ask for money. So too, they argued that they would
not be bound by regulations stricter than those under which they
had become professed nuns. According to the chronicler of Meaux
Abbey, for example, all Yorkshire nuns remained uncloistered nearly
a century after attempts to enforce Periculoso, since they said that they
28 Makowski, Canon Law and Cloistered Women, Chapter 2, for a full treat-
ment of the circumstances of the decree’s composition.
29 Makowski, Canon Law, pp. 53, 60–61, 75–76.
“refused to be bound by regulations stricter than those that they had

undertaken to observe at their profession.”30
At length, legal consultants, sympathetic bishops, and subsequent
popes responding to the arguments and actions of nuns in traditional
open monasteries, all but undid the papal policy of enclosure that
had been inaugurated by Pope Boniface VIII. Compromises between
nuns, their diocesan overseers, and popes themselves soon became
the norm.31 Licenses to leave cloister precincts on monastic business,
for pilgrimages, and reasons of health, among other things, continued
to be granted. Nevertheless, the normative principle that enclosure
was appropriate for nuns and that it was the only clear proof of the
chastity and piety of female religious had an impact. Some communi-
ties voluntarily attempted to comply with strict cloister regulations –
those outlined in Periculoso or in the dictates of Observant reformers
– while others had local ordinaries who insisted that they do so. A nun
poised on the brink of apostasy in either of those circumstances would
have needed no further inducement to take the final dreadful step.
Finally, there is the significant fact that because religious women
could not be ordained priests, unhappy nuns could not avail them-
selves of an option that by the close of the fourteenth century had
become available to disaffected monks. Starting in the 1390s, and
largely occasioned by the financial exigencies faced by popes during
the Great Schism, male professed religious were routinely allowed to
leave the monastic life yet avoid apostasy by means of papal dispensa-
tions to hold benefices – that is, positions in the Church, including the
rectorship of parish churches and membership in cathedral chapters,
that had endowed incomes attached to them. These papal dispensa-
tions allowed such men to leave their monasteries and to live as secu-
lar priests for life, free from the authority of abbot or prior and free to
30 John Tillotson, “Visitation and Reform of the Yorkshire Nunneries in the

Fourteenth Century,” Northern History 30 (1994), 2.
31 Tillotson, “Visitation and Reform,” 20–21. Makowski, Canon Law, 115–
121. Katherine Gill, “Scandala: Controversies Concerning Clausura and
Women’s Religious Communities in Late Medieval Italy,” in Christen-
dom and Its Discontents, ed. Scott Waugh and Peter Diehl (Cambridge,
UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 177–203. Gill refers to the words
which adorn so many fourteenth- and fifteenth-century papal exemptions
– “notwithstanding the decisions of our predecessor Boniface VII” – as
Periculoso’s legal solvent.
introduction 15
hold property; although they would have to remain chaste, they were
no longer regulars and as secularized, ‘exclaustrated’ monks, subject
neither to their vows of obedience nor poverty.32
In the Roman Church it would not be until the time of Pope Urban
VIII (1623–1644) that the capacity to become a priest ceased to be cru-
cial to such secularization. Only then were regulars who had made
solemn religious profession, regardless of gender, finally able to be
formally dismissed from their vows.33 In England, however, gender
ceased to be a factor for formal exclaustration a full century earlier.
This is a telling distinction and one that merits our examination even
at the risk of violating the strict, although for students of monastic
history, decidedly arbitrary, chronological limits of the Middle Ages.
At the start of the English Reformation, hundreds of professed nuns,
young and old, privileged and nearly destitute, ‘cast off the habit of
religion’ and reentered secular society as laywomen. Although some
simply left their cloisters, most did so only after they had been exclaus-
trated by decree; that is, after they had received formal license from
the Crown invalidating their vows. Cromwell used the same dispen-
sations that had been employed by late medieval popes to deal with
the secularization of male regulars; he simply applied them to nuns
as well. By extending the reach of this book to 1540, the era of the
Dissolution, we have the opportunity to see canon law procedures
crafted in the old regime applied to the exigencies of the new.
Sources
The most important primary sources used for this book fall into
roughly three categories. First, canonical rules and regulations gov-
erning apostasy – legislative and doctrinal material that became the
formal, normative law. Second, case material and other documents
of practice that tell us something about the implementation of that
law. Third, contemporary narratives about apostates that provide
32 See Chapter 4 for more discussion of this option in the context of the dis-
solution in England when similar capacities are extended to nuns.
33 Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law, 236. Pope Urban VIII (1623–
1644) is credited with promulgating the general rule, although canonists
and theologians had been encouraging the use of the papal power to relax
even monastic vows and allow for full reentry into the world.
some insight into the lived experience of both apostate nuns and
those charged with their return and reintegration to monastic life.
While some of these original sources have been published – the defin-
ing books of the Corpus Iuris for instance – a great deal of other
important prescriptive literature, such as consilia and commentary,
many episcopal registers, episcopal commissary and audience court
records, Chancery writs, and proceedings in royal or papal courts
have not. All sources, even published chronicles such as Iohannes
Busch, Chronicon Windeshemense Und Liber De Reformatione
Monasteriorum, are generally untranslated, and with the exception of
excerpts from them that appeared in, and are quoted from, secondary
scholarship, all translations and paraphrases are mine.
The Corpus Iuris Canonici along with books of commentary by
some major jurists, and the papal bulls which supplemented both,
form the backbone of prescriptive law that established norms for
behavior.34 While consilia, or legal opinions written by academic can-
onists for use by court or client, still fall within the category of norma-
tive literature, they do hint at how successfully some laws were applied.
Arguing for and against a particular interpretation of the canons,
citations to which they strung together in configurations designed to
astound judges, these academics ultimately concluded that one posi-
tion was more compelling than the other.35 A few of these legal opin-
ions by notable jurists like Francesco Zabarella appear in Chapter 1,
but the miniscule number of such opinions relative to female apostasy
make them of limited usefulness in this respect.36
One of the best sources for discovering how the canon law regard-
ing apostasy was applied in practice are the reports generated by epis-
copal visitations of monasteries. Ever since the Council of Chalcedon
(451) decreed it, monasteries in the West had been subject to the
jurisdiction of bishops; bishops were duty-bound to supervise all the
34 Johann Friedrich von Schulte, Die Geschichte Der Quellen Und Literatur
Des Canonischen Rechts Von Gratian Bis Auf Die Gegenwart, 3 Bde (Stutt-
gart, 1875), remains of major importance for details about the variety of
this canonical literature.
35 A good survey of the types and uses of consilia can be found in the intro-
duction to Peter Pazzaglini and C. Hawks, Consilia (Washington, DC:
Library of Congress, 1990).
36 Francesco Zabarella, Consilia (Venetijs: Apud Ioannem Baptistam à Porta,
1581).
introduction 17
religious houses in their dioceses and any conscientious prelate con-

ducted periodic visits as part of that supervisory obligation. Ensconced
in canon law from such an early date, the practical side of visitation
was dealt with time and time again, and in some detail. Treatises like
De visitatione espiscoporum, for example, written by the noted can-
onist and papal auditor, Joannes Franciscus de Pavinis, gave precise
guidelines for the manner in which these episcopal visits should be
conducted in houses of female as well as male regulars.37 Recorded vis-
itations consequently betray a remarkable degree of uniformity across
Christian Europe, containing standardized interrogatories for com-
munity members and formal decrees issued for the remedy of lapses
in monastic discipline – including, if any be uncovered, apostasy.
Monastic visitations from the late Middle Ages, in conjunction
with bishops’ registers and the case law generated by episcopal com-
missary and audience courts, contain a wealth of information about
the ways in which bishops dealt with issue of apostasy and with par-
ticular apostate nuns. Registers also contain warrants for the appre-
hension of runaways and sometimes include instructions about how
prodigals were to be treated upon return. Episcopal records, however,
have their limitations for investigating religious apostasy.
As Charles Donahue and the working group on church court
records graphically illustrate, the bulk of surviving continental visi-
tation records, along with other records of the medieval Church that
link canon law and practice, remain housed in archives.38 Runs of
episcopal registers are incomplete, and the sheer number of dioceses,
139 in late medieval France alone, means that records are scattered
in numberless repositories. Serial publications dedicated to regional
study, such as Bulletin de la Société d’Histoire Vaudoise, provide some
excerpted transcriptions, but they are often exclusively of episcopal
visits to parish churches, not to monasteries at all.
The situation in England is considerably different, and that differ-
ence is one of the reasons for the emphasis on English evidence in this
book. Unlike their continental equivalents, many English visitation
37 Makowski, Canon Law, 95–99.

38 For the most extensive listing of archived episcopal records to date, see
Charles Donahue and Working Group on Church Court Records, The
Records of Medieval Ecclesiastical Courts, I: The Continent, and II: England
(Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1989–1994).
records have survived and are generally found in episcopal registers,

which are kept in diocesan record offices. They have been printed in
considerable numbers by the Canterbury and York Society, and also
in local record series such as those published by the Lincoln Record
Society and the Surtees Society. Consequently, many cases emerg-
ing from English diocesan visits appear in these pages. But even in
England, bishops could only make visits to monasteries that were not
exempt from episcopal jurisdiction, and the numbers of those houses
had vastly shrunk by the late Middle Ages.
Begun in earnest by the Cistercians in the twelfth century, the
trend toward monastic exemption from episcopal oversight contin-
ued apace in our era. Exempt houses were placed directly under papal
supervision and could be inspected only by visitors appointed by
Rome. Women’s communities were less clearly, or permanently, affil-
iated with the order than men’s throughout this era, and in England
“quantifying Cistercian nunneries is problematic, a matter of defini-
tions, since only two were officially recognized by the order, Tarrant
Keynes (Dorset) and Marham (Norfolk).”39 Nevertheless, any nun-
nery that was strictly speaking an affiliate would be visited by the
abbot of the Cistercian monastery to which it was affiliated.40 So too,
all mendicant communities were exempt from episcopal jurisdiction,
with friars appointed by provincial chapters to conduct and record
their visits to Franciscan or Dominican houses within their dioceses.
Thus, the episcopal visitation records that prove so valuable for the
study of apostates from Benedictine or Augustinian nunneries are
lacking for these orders. And although provincial records are some-
times extant, that is often not the case. For instance, visitation by pro-
vincials of the respective orders is scarcely mentioned in the annals of
English Franciscans and all pre-Reformation records of the English
Dominican province have been lost.41
39 Gilchrist, Gender and Material Culture, 39. See also the pioneering efforts
of Sally Thompson, Brigitte Degler-Spengler, and Constance Berman on
the ambivalent relationship between the Cistercian leadership and reli-
gious women who wished to emulate the Cistercian way of life, if not to
live as Cistercian nuns strictly speaking.
40 Lawrence, Medieval Monasticism, 32,185, 228–229.
41 Bourdillon, Minoresses, 55. Oliva, The Convent and the Community, 8.
Hinnebusch, The History of the Dominican Order, 393. No records of the
introduction 19
Another problem with evidence generated by episcopal oversight

is that some bishops never conducted visits even if told to do so – the
Bridgettine constitutions of Syon stated that “the bishop of the place
be the visitor,” yet the registers of the bishops of London do not record
any visitations having taken place.42 Finally, the sheer extent of some
dioceses, especially in medieval Germany – that of Augsburg stretch-
ing 144 miles from north to south and 62 from east to west – meant
that even the most conscientious shepherd made such visits infre-
quently. Considering all these difficulties with respect to regionally
and locally generated ecclesiastical sources, records kept by central
authorities competent to hear and deal with apostates, regardless of
the status of their communities, become invaluable.
For all medieval Christians, the ultimate central authority was,
of course, the papacy. Papal registers and the collected letters of, and
petitions to, popes are fundamental to this study, since they document
the practical application of the canon law of apostasy. Popes invoked
the power of secular government when needed to seek out vagrant
religious, as did Urban V in the war-torn France of the Hundred
Years War, and they granted dispensations allowing runaways who
had been compelled to enter religion – runaways from both exempt
and non-exempt orders – to fully regain their status as laywomen. Late
medieval papal bulls like Benedict XII’s Pastor bonus (1335), aimed at
reconciling apostates by extending broad powers of absolution and
dispensation to monastic superiors across Christendom. Few papal
records are more important, however, than those of that transnational
curial clearing house, the Papal Penitentiary, which responded to peti-
tions from every corner of Europe.43
While bishops and other ecclesiastics to whom the power had
been delegated might absolve repentant apostates and render deci-
sions about disputed religious status, some cases always required
appeal to the highest court. In the course of the thirteenth century,
the Penitentiary became the central office in charge of the granting
English Dominican province are extant according to Jane E. Sayers, Law

and Records in Medieval England (London: Variorum, 1988), 168.
42 James Aungier, History and Antiquities of Syon Abbey (London: J. B. Nich-
ols, 1840), 245.
43 Kirsi Salonen and Ludwig Schmugge, A Sip from the “Well of Grace”:
Medieval Texts from the Apostolic Penitentiary (Washington, DC: Catho-
lic University of America Press, 2009).
of dispensations, absolutions, and licenses, for laity and religious,

male and female alike. Penitentiary petitions number in the tens of
thousands and remain, for the most part, untapped sources, available
until recently only in the Vatican Secret Archives or in selected cases
transcribed for specialized studies. I rely here on the transcriptions of
petitions found in several of those specialized works, but to an even
greater extent on the rich vein of Penitentiary material that has now
been tapped by scholars like Ludwig Schmugge working in conjunc-
tion with the German Historical Institute in Rome. The published vol-
umes of the Repertorium Poenitentiariae Germanicum (RPG) contain
Penitentiary supplications relevant to the German-speaking lands in
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and many of those came from
runaway nuns.44
As in the case with recorded episcopal visitations, England once
again provides us with an especially useful body of original sources,
this time generated by the singular authority of the Crown. First and
most useful, as Donald Logan recognized and fruitfully exploited in
his study of apostates, are the royal writs de apostata capiendo. As
mentioned above, these official interventions on behalf of the peti-
tioning abbess, abbot, or other monastic ordinary for the pursuit and
return of an apostate regular could be, and were, issued for exempt
Franciscan and Dominican nuns, along with their sisters from tradi-
tionally non-exempt orders. They are consequently a very important
resource for investigations of both. A second body of court-generated,
public records is especially valuable when apostate nuns hailed from
the English landed classes. The distinctive jurisdictional division in
the common law reserved all landed disputes to the Crown. But before
proceeding to trial, all questions of a litigant’s religious (versus lay)
status were dealt with by being remanded to the ecclesiastical forum,
usually the court of the local bishop. Thus, when investigating cases of
apostasy motivated by the desire to inherit landed wealth, Chancery
writs demanding such clarification can prove vital, since the details
that they provide would otherwise be undocumented.
With few exceptions, neither normative legislation nor legal doc-
uments of practice give us any details about the motives and circum-
stances of the apostates and runaways with which they are concerned.
44 Ludwig Schmugge, Paolo Ostinelli, and Hans Braun. Repertorium Poeni-

tentiariae Germanicum (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1996).
introduction 21
While narrative primary sources dealing with female apostates are few,
they can provide anecdotal descriptions of both, and offer a glimpse of
the culture and even the character of some culprits. By turns risible,
and tragic, the chronicle of the intrepid reformer, Johannes Busch,
for example, vividly describes the two prodigal nuns from Saxony
whose return he oversaw. Giorgio Vasari’s Lives of the Artists recounts
the romantic tale of an artist and his model, Fra Filippo Lippi and
Lucrezia Buti, both apostates and together living as man and wife in
plain view of the Vatican.
Methodology
The bulk of this study focuses on nuns who broke their vows and the
ways that they effected those ruptures. But how did the developed
canon law determine that women had freely professed vows in the first
place, and that they had done so with forethought? These are ques-
tions that I deal with in Chapter 1, ‘Spiritual Ideal and Legal Realities’.
Since the legal dimensions are complex, and the fact of profession
central to the issue of whether a runaway nun might be charged with
apostasy or not, most of Chapter 1 deals with these technical, juridical
developments. It would be wrong, however, to detail the evolution of
the canon law regarding apostasy without reference to the spirit that
continued to animate that law. To gainsay the spiritual ideal behind
the law risks misinterpreting and perhaps even falsifying the medieval
experience. The teachings of the Church on the efficacy of the vowed
life signified even for those who outwardly rejected that life, like the
twice apostate Cistercian nun Sophie of Brunswick, who interpreted
the evil that befell her as divine wrath for transgression. And there can
surely be no empathy for canonical legislation designed to force the
return of runaway religious if we lack that perspective.
In the next three chapters, the investigative triad of motive, means,
and opportunity informs my discussion of individual cases. Chapter
2, ‘Force and Fear’, features runaways motivated to leave their clois-
ters chiefly because they had been compelled to enter them. Although
compulsion and other technicalities had compromised the legitimacy
of their vows – giving them legal redress to petition for the nullifica-
tion of those vows – these women left first, and filed such petitions
later, if at all. Because they reentered lay society without license to do
so, they ran the risks of being charged as apostates and of suffering the
consequence of these allegations.
Chapter 3, ‘Land, Lust and Love’, deals with apostasy which
appears to have been motivated by love, whether of landed wealth or
of the opposite sex. Economic, physical, and emotional lures some-
times proved strong enough to motivate professed nuns to become
apostates, and notwithstanding the number of scandalous stories that
found their way into later literature, money – particularly the prospect
of a substantial inheritance – appears to have been at least as potent a
temptation as love. In Chapter 4, ‘Diversions and Disasters’, we con-
sider the risks run by nuns who fell prey to the positive attractions of
pilgrimage travel, recreations, and the surcease from routine provided
by visits with family; these temporary respites, even when taken with
the leave of one’s superior, became for some restless souls a spring-
board for permanent abandonment of religious life. Also considered
here are the negative effects of disasters and dislocations, including
zealous monastic reforms, that threatened and sometimes uprooted
whole communities of nuns. Once stability was threatened or became
a mere chimera, some nuns were no longer willing to preserve in a
lifelong commitment made in more irenic times.
In the final section of this book, Prodigals Return, we look at sce-
narios featuring the reintegration of apostate nuns to their commu-
nities and also speculate about those who managed to evade efforts to
compel their return. Chapter 5 illustrates the fate of some repentant
apostates who returned to their monasteries, as well as the peniten-
tial regime imposed upon them. Chapter 6 deals with the unrepentant
runaways who were either forcibly restored to their communities or
who continued to elude apprehension.
In the Conclusion I highlight the major issues that the cases pre-
sented here have raised, and the questions that remain for future
scholarship to explore and perhaps to answer. I also examine the ideal
of equivalency, and the limitations of that ideal; the reality of gen-
dered application of the canon law to female petitioners and acknowl-
edged apostates. I hope that this work will inspire further study of the
medieval women who became disaffected with religious life. Given the
number of untapped sources for such work, the future beckons.
Part I
The Vowed Life
It fitting and just, our duty and our salvation, always and every-
where to give you thanks Lord God Almighty and eternal Father.
Preface to the Canon of the Mass, Eucharistic Prayer II

1
Spiritual Ideal and Legal Realities
A clear reminder of the nexus between obligation and salvation,

the Eucharistic prayer recited at every Mass is as familiar to Roman
Catholics today as it would have been to their medieval counterparts.
To “always and everywhere give thanks to God,” the fundamental
duty of the faithful, demands actions as well as words and it is fulfilled
by living a virtuous life.1 Salvation comes from that daily effort at ful-
fillment. But one’s state in life, married or single, clerical or lay, natu-
rally determines its more precise requirements.
While all believers theoretically resolve to remain faithful to God,
those who marry or become professed religious do more than that;
they formally assume some special obligations to Him when they enter
into their chosen states. They articulate these duties by pronouncing
solemn vows. These vows, in turn, add another variable to the equa-
tion of duty with salvation. Vows call upon God to witness one’s inten-
tions; they signify a resolution to act in certain ways, and they obligate
individuals to carry out their proposed actions. Hence, violating a vow
freely taken has moral implications that relate directly to God and not
just to one’s fellow men and women. In medieval Europe, there were
practical, legal, and personal consequences for such violations as well.
While the consequences for breaking solemn vows of religion in the
late Middle Ages differed fundamentally from those imposed in the
early medieval era, as well as from those that came to apply after the
Council of Trent, the spiritual rationale for taking monastic vows in
the first place remained surprisingly constant.
1
Preface to the Canon of the Mass, from The Roman Missal (International
Commission on English in the Liturgy Corporation, 2010). The Latin
reads: Vere dignum et justum est, aequum et salutare, nos tibi semper, et
ubique gratias agere Domine sancte, Pater omnipotens aeterne Deus.
That rationale is part and parcel of a monastic ideal, born in Eastern

antiquity and given concrete and lasting expression in the West by the
Benedictine Rule. The Benedictine model presupposed individual
perfectibility and employed vows to support the quest for personal
spiritual advancement. Vows, therefore, imposed upon monastics
demands that went well beyond those made of Christians generally.
For example, all Christians were supposed to obey God, to dedicate
their wills to his service rather than cling to the self-love that made it
morally impossible for God’s grace to act upon the soul. Monks and
nuns, however, sought not merely to diminish self-love, but to extin-
guish it. They were assisted in this endeavor by the vow of obedience,
through which they irrefrangibly assigned their wills to a religious
superior.
In the standard Benedictine promise of profession: “Father, I
promise to you and to your lawful successors obedience according
to the Rule of St. Benedict until death,” a distillation of Chapter 58,
initiates explicitly consecrated their wills to a superior, for life, as a
check on selfishness and attachment to their own inclinations. They
promised to sacrifice freedom of choice, in matters large and small, to
the head of the monastery in imitation of Christ who freely and lov-
ingly sacrificed his own will. As the great modern exegete of the rule,
Thomas Merton, explained, “Just as Jesus made Himself indifferent to
the wrongs that were done to Him and the violation of His rights, so
in religious obedience we renounce our attachment to our own idea
of what is best, most prudent, most wise, most expedient, and accept
the judgment of another.”2 Bounded only by the requirement of moral
rectitude, the request of one’s superior was to be construed as an order
to be followed, and, without delay: “The first step of humility is unhes-
itating obedience, which comes naturally to those who cherish Christ
above all. Because of the holy service they have professed, or because
of the dread of hell and for the glory of everlasting life, they carry out
the superior’s order as promptly as if the command came from God
himself.”3
2
Thomas Merton, The Life of the Vows (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2012),
249.
3
St. Benedict, The Rule of St. Benedict in English, ed. Timothy Fry (Colle-
geville: Liturgical Press, 1982), Chapter 5.
spiritual ideal and legal realities 27
Similarly, the two other standard monastic vows of chastity and

poverty aided in the achievement of spiritual perfection by enhanc-
ing moral obligations that bound Christians generally. Through their
vow of chastity, professed religious obliged themselves to abstain not
only from illicit sex, but also from all sexual pleasure. They promised
to give up earthly love in order to surrender their bodies, as well as
their souls, to Christ. For the young and healthy aspirant at least, con-
tinence of this sort required ascetic self-discipline for its achievement,
and that discipline was an implicit part of the vow. Finally, poverty
of spirit, that distancing of self from greed and over-attachment to
possessions, was a standard counsel to all faithful Christians. Vowed
religious, however, pledged to surpass this counsel too by promising
to devest themselves of all personal property. They disenfranchised
themselves of what they possessed at the time of profession, as well as
anything they might have expected to inherit later. This renunciation
included articles of clothing and other chattels, as well as land and
rents.
In his Prologue to the Rule, St. Benedict averred that it intro-
duced “nothing harsh, nothing burdensome,” and, in contrast to the
hair-raising asceticism of the Desert Mothers and Fathers of Eastern
Antiquity, he was surely correct. But given the era with which the
present study is concerned, not to mention its topic, the words of the
late medieval spokesman Thomas à Kempis (1380–1471), who knew
well of what he wrote, are apposite: “Here, then, men are tried, as gold
in the furnace. Here no man can remain, unless he be willing with all
his heart to humble himself for the love of God.”4
And a trial it was. Even for mature and thoughtful adults who had
freely chosen the religious life and who saw their vows as an expres-
sion of the adage that in serving God one became master of self (Sevire
Deo regnare est), observing them in the late Middle Ages was mon-
umentally challenging at times. For professed religious who found
themselves bound to a life that they had never, or no longer, wanted
to live, keeping their vows was sometimes just impossible. Yet once
professed, there were few acceptable options available for monks, and
even fewer for nuns, to alter their situation. A number of specific legal
4
Hic ergo probantur homines sicut aurum in fornace. Hic nemo potest stare
nisi ex toto corde si voluerit propter Deum humiliare. Thomas à Kempis, De
Imitatione Christi (Rome, 1925), Liber Primus, Cap. 17.
developments during the period of canonical systemization begun in

the twelfth and concluding at the end of the thirteenth centuries con-
tributed to this.
By the close of the thirteenth century, solemn profession had
become a clear requirement for entrance into religion and once
made, the obligation to honor it was rigorously enforced by the canon
law. It had not always been so. Even as late as the twelfth century,
entry into religion “implied a way of life more than a legal status; it
was not entirely clear how someone became a monk or nun.”5 But
within the next hundred years that vagueness had been, if not effec-
tively removed, at least substantially diminished. Efforts to fully
articulate and systematize the canon law regarding religious status
began with a narrowing of acceptable orders into which an aspirant
could be admitted. With the decree Ne nimia religionum, the Fourth
Lateran Council (1215) forbade the founding of new religious orders,
and henceforth anyone who wished to become a religious in strict
canonical terms, had to enter one of the already approved orders.6 A
decree of the Second Council of Lyon (1274), Religionum diversitatem,
repeated the Lateran ban, adding that any new order that had arisen
since 1215 without express papal confirmation was to be suppressed.7
Ne nimia was incorporated into the collection of canon law known as
the Decretals of Gregory IX, or Liber Extra (X 3.36.9) and Religionum
diversitatem found its way into the Liber Sextus (VI 3.17.1); medieval
canonists would cite both decrees from these collections.8
As the number of acceptable orders was narrowed, so were the
ways in which one could become a full-fledged regular. Prominent
twelfth-century theologians had voiced objections to the practice of
child oblation, commonplace in earlier times, and canonists soon
joined the chorus.9 By the late thirteenth century, the notion that
5
Giles Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century (Cambridge, UK:
Cambridge University Press, 1996), 16.
6
Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, ed. Norman Tanner (London: Sheed
and Ward, 1990), 242.
7
Tanner, Decrees, 326–327.
8
The Latin texts can be found in the standard modern edition of the body
of medieval canon law: Corpus Iuris Canonici, ed. Emil Friedberg, 2 vols.
(Leipzig, 1879; repr. Graz, 1959), at 2:607 and 2:1042–1043 respectively.
9
Giles Constable, “Liberty and Free Choice in Monastic Thought and Life,
Especially in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries,” in La Notion De Liberté
committing one’s child to the monastic life was an act of piety did
not accord with the renewed emphasis on mature reflection and free-
dom of choice as preconditions for entry into religion. As far back as
St. Benedict’s time, a year in the novitiate had been required before
full monastic profession, but there had been no minimum age spec-
ified for the novice. By the close of the thirteenth century, canonists
had also set a minimum age for entering this trial period: fourteen for
boys and twelve for girls.10 If, for whatever reason, novices felt that the
monastic life did not suit them they were free to leave. While under-
age children would continue to be admitted to religious communities
for any number of reasons, by 1300 such actions violated the canon
law and, as we shall see, might be grounds for subsequent appeal for
release from one’s vows.11
According to the canon law in late medieval Europe then, the sub-
stantialia of monastic life were the three vows of poverty, chastity,
and obedience. When those vows were freely embraced upon entrance
into an approved religious order, one became ipso iure a fully pro-
fessed monk or nun. Express pronouncement of the three vows, fol-
lowed by the assumption of a habit distinctive of the professed monk
or nun was the canonical desideratum; throughout the late Middle
Ages, however, despite the trend toward greater legal clarity and spec-
ificity, it remained just that. Despite the evidentiary difficulties that it
posed, tacit profession continued to be regarded by lawyers and the-
ologians alike as effecting the same end. This meant that if monks or
nuns continued to remain in their communities after completing the
novitiate, and if they did so wearing the habit of the fully professed,
Au Moyen Age: Islam, Byzance, Occident, ed. George Makdisi, Dominique

Sourdel, and Janine Sourdel-Thomine (Paris: Société ‘Édition Les Belles
Lettres, 1985), 106. Richard Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law
(Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1996), 232–233.
10
St. Benedict, The Rule, Chapter 58. There are several references in the
classical canon law, chief among them being X 3.31.8; VI 3.14.1. See also,
F. Donald Logan, Runaway Religious in Medieval England, c. 1240–1540
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 12.
11
CJC, Decretum, C.20 q.3 c.4 and X 3.31.12 are two references that jurists
commonly adduced to support this stance. The first involves an oblate
released from his monastery because his father had placed him there
against the boy’s will. The second released a girl who had been under
twelve when she entered her community.
the law regarded them as such, even if they had never expressly taken
vows.12 Why did this continue to be the case?
Given that the commitment to monastic life, what St. Benedict had
termed a ‘conversion of life,’ meant a change in status signified by
a change in dress, equating tacit with express profession made sense
spiritually – we must never lose sight of the fact that canon law had
spiritual as well as legal ends.13 And this equation also made sense to
canon lawyers since it meshed with principles of the Roman law, espe-
cially property law, embraced by these jurists. Just as the passage of
time could establish a proprietary right, the length of time one spent
within the confines of a monastery, dressed as a professed monk or
nun, was significant.14 If individuals and corporations could claim
ownership of property because they had possessed it for a long time,
how much more compelling would God’s claim be to one of His own.
But arguments such as these aside, the canonical position regarding
tacit profession would often pose practical problems, not the least of
which involved proving that someone who had never formally articu-
lated her vows might be an apostate.
All the developments summarized above resulted in a formal, pre-
cise set of rules for determining religious status. Once fully professed,
whether expressly or tacitly, regulars acquired a new legal as well as
spiritual personality. They became what the canonists termed eccle-
siastical persons, and so enjoyed certain legal privileges traditionally
reserved for the clergy. These privileges usually included privilegium
fori (forbidding the trial of a cleric in secular courts), and some form
of the privilegium canonis (protection of the person of the ecclesiastic,
via threat of excommunication, from violence at the hands of a lay-
man).15 But by the same token, monks and nuns whose status as eccle-
12
X 3.31.22; Albert Joseph Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives from Religious
Institutes (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1942),
11–12, 30; Logan, Runaway Religious, 19–21. See also subsequent treatment
of this issue in what follows.
13
Barbara Harvey, Monastic Dress in the Middle Ages (Oxford: William Urry
Trust, 1988), 10–11.
14
Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law, Chapter 7 for examples of the
canon law of prescription.
15
Elizabeth Makowski, “A Pernicious Sort of Woman”: Quasi-Religious
Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 90, discusses the impor-
siastical persons rested on religious profession faced clear restrictions

on actions in the secular sphere.
The vow of chastity created what the canonists called a diriment
impediment to marriage. This meant that a marriage contracted after
religious profession was not only unlawful but also invalid.16 Monks
and nuns who had taken solemn vows of poverty and obedience could
not claim an inheritance or assume a worldly office or title that would
have required them to wield power outside of the cloister – we even
find canons denying them the right to fill the role of godparents, which
entailed both social and legal obligations of some consequence.17
And finally, having professed solemn vows, the religious could
never renege on them.18 As with the canonical requirements for
entrance into religion, prescriptions concerning its unlawful aban-
donment had become standardized by 1300. In sum, apostate reli-
gious would incur ipso facto excommunication and could be forcibly
returned to their monasteries where, should they remain unrepentant,
penalties such as imprisonment might be imposed.19
The precision of the developed medieval canon law regarding the
monastic state is reflected in the legal options available to those who
were unhappy in it. Those options were few. First, if one’s profession
was technically flawed – if minimum age standards, time in the novi-
tiate, or freedom of choice were lacking – disgruntled religious could
petition the papacy for a decree nullifying profession. Once granted,
the secular status of the petitioner was fully restored and they were
tance of these rights for women classified as ‘fully religious’ and their
counterparts.
16
VI 3.15.1. CJC 2, 1053. Helmholz, The spirit of Classical Canon Law, 243–247,
on monastic vows and subsequent marriage. See Ernest McDonell, The
Beguines and Beghards in Medieval Culture (New York: Octagon, 1969),
129–131, discussing the distinctive consequences of simple and solemn
vows with reference to beguines.
17
Eileen Power, Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275 to 1535 (New York: Biblo
and Tannen, 1922; 1964), 34–37 regarding inheritance. Refer also to Joseph
Lynch, Godparents and Kinship in Early Medieval Europe (New Jersey:
Princeton University Press, 1986) and Bernhard Jussen, Spiritual Kinship
as Social Practice (Newark, DE: University of Deleware Press, 2000) for
information on the legal ramifications of becoming a godparent.
18
Riesner, Apostates, 27–35 contains a concise overview of the developed
law.
19
X 3.31.15, 24. X 5.9.5. VI 3.24.2.
free to live in the world. If such technical violations did not exist,
however, or if they could not be proved to the satisfaction of exter-
nal examiners, transfer to another, stricter, order was the only other
legally and morally correct option for nuns.20 Monks, on the other
hand, might seek ordination with possible assignment to a benefice or
cure of souls, or they might get licensed to study at universities or to
serve in the household of a bishop or aristocrat.21
No matter how precise the law had become, however, it was meant
to be applied to living people, and real life is anything but precise.
A single, significant, but by no means isolated example of that ‘lived
imprecision’ in late medieval monasticism was the variation in dress
both within and among monastic communities. Unlike the ostenta-
tious fur-trimmed hoods and ornate headdresses ceaselessly railed
against by local bishops, these variations were not violations of monas-
tic counsels to simplicity in dress. Nor did they violate late medieval
canon law. Although religious orders founded subsequently to the
1215 Lateran dictates had to follow an already approved rule – that
given to the Poor Clares, for example, was the Benedictine Rule, while
Dominican nuns technically followed the Rule of St. Augustine – each
order had its own constitutions as well. These guidelines expanded
upon the rule and included details about the daily routine and expec-
tations within a given community. They also allowed monks and nuns
to differentiate themselves by their choice of religious habits, and they
were often very imprecise about the color, cut, and even kind of dress
to be worn within a community. As Cordelia Warr has observed for
nuns in late medieval Italy, simplicity and utility based on climate and
physical activity – in short, what had mattered most to St. Benedict –
continued to be what mattered most to monks and nuns in this era.22
20
Kirsi Salonen and Ludwig Schmugge, A Sip from the “Well of Grace”:
lic University of America Press, 2009), 137–140 provides an example of a
formal request to the Penitentiary for such a transfer license by Augustin-
ian nun, Barbara de Rischach.
21
One such license, required by the decree Ut Periculoso, is discussed later in
this chapter.
22
Cordelia Warr, “Religious Dress in Italy in the Late Middle Ages,” in
Defining Dress, ed. Amy de la Haye and Elizabeth Wilson (Manchester:
Manchester University Press, 1999), 79–92.
As with tacit profession, these variations in practice were grudg-

ingly accepted by canonists even after 1300, but the problems they
presented soon became apparent. For instance, the developed canon
law required express pronouncement of the three vows, followed by
the assumption of a habit distinctive of the professed monk or nun
or wearing the habit of the professed after completing one’s noviti-
ate for full religious status. But what if one were entering a commu-
nity in which the habit of the professed and that of the novice were
indistinguishable?
To a remarkable extent, the developed canon law tried to antic-
ipate problems caused by situations like these. Popes and councils
published decrees before conflict arose, not only to diminish diversity
in monastic practice but also to address issues that resisted the trend
toward uniformity. Pope Gregory IX (1227–1241) was one of those
concerned lawmakers and he addressed the circumstance we have
just alluded to in a pronouncement incorporated into the canon law
at X.3.31.23. A novice who had not yet put on the religious habit was
free to leave the monastery and resume his or her life in the world,
he stated, and this held true throughout the probationary year unless
the novice clearly made a vow to the contrary. However, to “com-
pletely eliminate ambiguity” in monasteries where the habit worn by
the novice was indistinguishable from that of the professed regular,
the pope continued, the habit of the novice should be blessed when
he makes his profession since it is wise to differentiate the habit of the
novice from that of the professed.23
Gregory IX had anticipated the problems that might arise in com-
munities where novice and professed alike wore identical habits, but
his lofty goal, to “completely eliminate ambiguity,” would have been
difficult to achieve even if that had been the only sort of tolerated var-
iation in practice. Unhappily, it was not. An additional complication
presented itself, and it was addressed in turn by Pope Innocent IV
(1243–1254). Included in the next official collection of papal decrees, the
Liber Sextus, VI 3.14.1, the decree stated that if a candidate under four-
teen (the canonical age for admission to novitiate for males is employed
throughout the decree) entered a religious community he was free to
leave it when he reached fifteen unless at that juncture he made his
express profession, donned the distinctive habit of the professed, or
CJC 578.
23
ratified his express profession which he had made previously. If, how-
ever, the novice lived in a community in which novices and professed
religious wore the same habits, and he continued to wear his habit
throughout his fifteenth year, he would be considered fully professed,
unless in that community the habits worn by all, novices, professed, and
even lay brothers or sisters attached to the house, were indistinguishable.
If a novice was over fourteen when he entered a community, no matter
how indistinct their habits, the above exception would not apply since
in that case the candidate was assumed to have already reached the age
of discretion and could judge well what he desired to do.24 Innocent
then concluded with Gregory’s directive that wherever novices and
professed wore habits indistinguishable from one another, the habit of
the novice should be blessed when he makes his profession.
These two examples, coupled with the many pronouncements
that preceded them, suggest that valiant papal attempts to provide
legal solutions via systematic case-by-case lawmaking could never be
entirely successful. While Innocent IV had elaborated on his prede-
cessor’s decree, and mentioned specific age requirements, he had also
introduced another exception to the rules, based on yet another var-
iation in monastic custom. Furthermore, as legislation continued to
accumulate, it could generate considerable confusion. Ecclesiastical
officials charged with decision-making in specific cases were wise to
seek guidance in order to come to sound judgments, and they found
such guidance in the academic commentary that surrounded (some-
times literally as in the case of the Glossa Ordinaria) specific papal and
counciliar decrees. One thing that academic jurists did in their glosses
and commentaries was to integrate earlier and subsequent legislation
on the same issue. A lengthy commentary on monastic profession by
the preeminent canonist Johannes Andreae illustrates this technique.
The decree of Innocent IV, along with much earlier and later leg-
islation dealing with tacit and express profession was firmly in place
when Johannes Andreae finished his Novella in Sextum in 1342.25 In
glossing Innocent’s decree then, Johannes referenced older legisla-
tion, such as that concerning childhood oblation and the reception of a
CJC 1050–1051.
24
Elizabeth Makowski, Canon Law and Cloistered Women: Periculoso and its
25

ica Press, 1999), 57–58, 73 details this and other work of Johannes Andreae.
manumitted serf, to produce a summary of the canonical paths to full

profession.26 He identified six ways in which a mature candidate – that
is, a male novice who had completed his fourteenth year or a female
who had completed her thirteenth, he was careful to note both age
requirements – obligated himself to the religious life, and four paths to
professed status when the candidate had not yet reached canonical age.
A mature novice became a fully professed religious by making
express profession, by putting on the distinctive habit of the professed,
or, where the habits in a community were indistinct, by donning the
habit worn by all members of the community after having completed
the novitiate within that community. Less commonly, vowing to never
leave and, if male, promising “to renounce the world its pomps and
benefices” that secular clergy might still enjoy, also achieved this end.
Finally, in accordance with more ancient prescriptions, if a novice had
been manumitted from serfdom on condition that he or she become
a regular, honoring that condition at this juncture signified for full
profession as well.
If a novice was underage when he entered a community, he became
fully professed once reaching maturity if he made profession in that
community, knowingly received the habit of the professed, ratified a
previously made vow of profession, or, in a community which drew
no distinctions in the habits that members wore, by completing an
additional year – his fifteenth, her fourteenth – wearing the habit of
the order. During that year, Johannes noted, the novice had additional
time to consider the great commitment his undertaking required.
In the foregoing, Johannes Andreae condensed legislation amassed
over the centuries to produce a template that must have helped many
a practicing lawyer. It was certainly widely circulated for years to
come, making its way to England via the work of that country’s most
influential canonist, William Lyndwood.27 But decision-makers relied
on academic commentary for more than legislative summaries. Even
when the wording of a specific canon appeared to be unambiguous,
26
Johannes Andreae, Novella in Sextum (Venetiis: Philippus Pincius, 1499;
repr. Graz: Akademische Druck-u. Verlagsanstalt, 1963), 220–221.
27
William Lyndwood, Provinciale (Oxford, 1679), 3.17.2. Lyndwood com-
pleted his Provinciale, a collection of glosses on English archiepiscopal
statutes treated in conjunction with general canonical precepts, by 1430. It
was an extremely useful aid for judges. Makowski, Canon Law and Clois-
tered Women, 105–106.
as was seldom the case, laws were always open to interpretation, and
commentators brought an arsenal of hoary scriptural and canonical
authorities to bear as they teased out linguistic nuance and implica-
tion. An example of this type of exposition, and one that also speaks
to monastic dress, surrounded the Bonifacian decree Ut Periculoso,
which reads as follows.
So that the dangerous matter of wandering by religious be elim-

inated, we strictly prohibit any tacitly or expressly professed
religious from abandoning his religious habit in schools or else-
where. Nor should any be admitted to the study of letters unless
first receiving a license from his prelate, acting with the counsel
of the convent or with the majority of its members. If, however,
such a reckless violator does appear, he incurs the sentence
of excommunication ipso facto. Also, doctors or masters who
knowingly teach religious who have discarded their religious
habits in order to hear lectures in the law or medicine, or who
allow them to be retained in their schools, have the same sen-
tence imposed upon them.28
This decree entered the Corpus Iuris Canonici in the Liber Sextus
and was therefore commented upon by many important academic
lawyers. Johannes Andreae’s teacher, Guido de Baysio, raised issues
of interpretation that would engage all subsequent commentators,
including, of course, his protégé.29 Guido began by noting that the
religious habit referred to by Boniface VIII would have to be that of
the professed religious; that is, one that generally included the black
cowl with hood that could be brought forward, and was uniform in
color, as prescribed by the canons. With this caveat, Guido under-
scored the fact that apostasy could occur only if full profession had
already taken place. He alluded as well to the accepted variations in
monastic dress that we have discussed above, and to the fact that the
black cowl, or veil in the case of nuns, was the standard mark of the
professed regardless of such variations.30
28
VI 3.24.2. CJC 1065–1066. Translation is mine.
29
Guido de Baysio, Apparatus Libri Sextii (Mailand: Jacobus de Sancto Naz-
ario et Bernardus de Castelliono, 1490), 100.
30
See above, Warr, “Religious Dress in Italy in the Late Middle Ages,” 82.
Given the specifics of Ut Periculoso, commentators were naturally

concerned about clarifying wording having to do exclusively with
monks, since only male regulars would have had the option to study
at university.31 Who qualified as the ‘prelate’ referred to in this decree?
Could a monk legitimately seek a license to study from the local
bishop if his abbot refused to issue it? To what extent did the material
need of one’s community set limits on the number of such licenses?
Were there types of schools or topics of study that were off-limits to
regulars, regardless of whether they had permission to leave? What
if the doctors and masters at a school did not know (because he was
not wearing his habit) that they had an apostate in their midst? And
so on. But it was in glossing the words in scholis vel alibi temere habi-
tum religionis suae dimittat – “dare to abandon their religious habit in
the schools or elsewhere” – that the potential of this canon was fully
exploited and becomes very significant for our purposes. Once again,
it was Johannes Andreae whose interpretation would prove crucial,
allowing the sentence of ipso facto excommunication to be universally
imposed on apostate religious regardless of the purpose for their unli-
censed departure, and regardless of gender.
Tying them to citations from Gratian’s Decretum, Guido de Baysio
had made a few lofty remarks concerning these words – religious should
always love the habit which symbolizes their state in life; if secular cler-
ics are forbidden to go abroad without their priestly attire, how much
more rigorously must the law apply to regulars. Johannes Andreae,
however, began his gloss with a quip: If these words were applied liter-
ally, monks who took off their habits to bathe or lie down in the privacy
of their cells would be included and scarcely any would escape this cen-
sure. This law applies to them only when they enter society and, casting
off their habits, dress as the laity or as secular clerics without just cause.
To wit, see the first words of this decree where he [the pope] said that he
wished to remedy the dangers of wandering religious.32
31
Petrus Ancharano, Super Sexto Decretalium (Bononiensis, 1583), 374–376.
Petrus posed a number of these questions in his lengthy gloss. He relied
heavily on the Glossa Ordinaria and Novella of Johannes Andreae for his
answers, as did all subsequent glossators.
32
Andreae, Novella in Sextum, ad VI 3.24.2 Ut Periculoso, 239. Non puto quod
monachus in cella sua dimittens habitum vel dum balneum intrat in occult
vel iacens sine habitu legitur hac constitutione alias pauci invenirentur
non ligati. Sed quando exhibent se consumptibus hominum sine habitu in
Johannes’s remark found its way into virtually all subsequent

glosses and although, when abbreviated, it lost whatever humor it
might have possessed, it consequently shaped later court decisions
regarding apostate religious, female as well as male. The word used
in Ut Periculoso, dimittat, did not mean merely taking off one’s habit;
it meant discarding it, abandoning it, and with it the very practice of
religious life itself. What mattered then was willful violation of the
vows of profession as symbolized by jettisoning the habit of religion.
So too, the words in scholis vel alibi referred to public places, places
outside of the monastery, where one showed, or concealed, one’s
status to the world by virtue of one’s dress. It was this fundamental
interpretive chord that once struck allowed a mandate specifically
directed to monks lured to university study to be used to support the
sanction of automatic excommunication for all religious apostates,
regardless of the rationale for unwarranted exit, and irrespective of
gender.33 This is the way it was used by two of the most renowned
jurists and legal consultants of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries
respectively: Oldradus de Ponte and Francesco Zabarella.
Many, if not most, esteemed doctors of the law were themselves
practicing lawyers from time to time. Academic jurists often supple-
mented their teaching salaries with consultation fees. A thorny case
would be presented to them by a judge or a litigant, and they would
write a legal opinion or consilium in which they resolved issues with
reference to their stockpile of canonical learning.34 Judges, like liti-
gants, faced an ever more specialized and academically formed body
of Romano-Canonical law, and an increasingly sophisticated court
procedure. Requesting expert legal advice allowed a judge to achieve
greater impartiality, expedite justice, and decrease the number of
appeals from his court.
Consilia started to be collected as their popularity increased. One
of the earliest collections was made by an advocate at the papal court
in Avignon, Oldradus de Ponte (d. 1337). He began to edit his more
than three hundred consilia for publication in the early fourteenth
habitu laicali vel secularis clerici sine iusta causa ligentur tunc ad hoc facit
in principo quod vult ipsorum vagationibus providere.
33
Riesner, Apostates, 31.
34
See again the introduction to Peter Pazzaglini and C. Hawks, Consilia
(Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1990).
century and his collection was regularly consulted by practicing and

academic lawyers well into the early modern period. Oldradus cited
Ut Periculoso as a proof text in two of these opinions.
In the first, a lengthy brief dealing with a contested election, one of
the claimants was said to have incurred the sentence of excommuni-
cation for his unlicensed absence from the community, despite con-
tinuing to wear his habit beneath his outerwear.35 Oldradus concluded
that because Ut Periculoso contained language specifically confining
the sentence to one who willfully cast off his religious habit, the evi-
dence did not support the charge. To proceed in banning the candi-
date from consideration, proof of the fact that he had either discarded
his habit or that he intentionally wished to deceive by concealing it
would be required.
The second instance features a monk who had been excommuni-
cated for “frivolously casting off his habit” but who had then repented,
returned to his monastery, received absolution, and dutifully expi-
ated his penance. He had lived thereafter an exemplary life and so
was elected abbot, but apparently not with the unanimous consent of
his fellows. Oldradus was now asked if the monk’s election had been
canonical or if it was invalidated by his previous excommunication.
Oldradus responded that according to Ut Periculoso excommunica-
tion did indeed attend the monk’s apostasy, but that excommuni-
cation had not created an irregularity, that is, an impediment to his
election. The effects of formal disqualifying factors, such as illegiti-
mate birth – canonically referred to as defects in person – could never
be removed, but the effects of excommunication could be wiped away
by absolution, and the sinner restored to his original condition, and
that was what had happened in this case.36
Regardless of the reasons for the apostasy of these professed reli-
gious, Oldradus had cited Ut Periculoso as the relevant proof text for
the penalty, excommunication. It was also cited as such regardless of
the gender of the professed religious in question. A case in point was
Consilium XLVI, written by the active diplomat and distinguished
35
Oldradus de Ponte, Consilia (Venetiis: Apud Franciscum Zilettum, 1571),
CLXXXIII, 76–78; CCII, 86.
36
Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law, 65, for irregularities invalid-
ing ordination.
lawyer Cardinal Francesco Zabarella (d. 1417).37 It is outlined below

in some detail because it alludes as well to the separate, and decidedly
gender-specific, ideal of strict enclosure.
A professed Benedictine nun “about twenty-five years old” wanted
to transfer to the monastery of Corpus Christi, an Augustinian house
which came under Dominican supervision. When she asked her
abbess for a license to do so, she was not only refused that license but
also incarcerated. Along with the other nuns, the abbess conspired to
deny the woman in question the right to make her petition to the pope
for the transfer. They threatened her and tried to alter her decision
by defaming the monastery of Corpus Christi. In response to these
pressures, the nun swore an oath to remain where she was and to live
under obedience to the abbess. But when, because of her oath, she was
set free, she changed her mind and secretly left the Benedictine house
to enter the monastery of Corpus Christi.
Once she had taken up residence there, she decided to safeguard
her new status by hiring a lawyer (procuratorem iuridicum) to act
for her in obtaining the transfer license that she had requested from
her former abbess. She requested one as well from the prioress, and
from the ordinary of the Benedictine house, the bishop. The questions
posed to Cardinal Zabarella – by a litigant or by the court, we cannot
be sure – were two: Was the nun in fact a member of the Corpus
Christi community, or was her petition to transfer there nullified
by her oath to remain at the Benedictine house? By leaving her first
monastery secretly without a license, had she incurred the sentence of
excommunication?
The first issue in this case was the one with which Cardinal
Zabarella dealt extensively. As promises invoking God to witness,
oaths were taken very seriously by medieval jurists. Perjury attended
their violation, and the law concerning oaths, their consequences, and
the circumstances in which they might be mitigated, was complex.38
Suffice it to say that he found the oath to be so mitigated because it
was made under duress and on the basis of false information; that is,
slanders against the community at Corpus Christi. He then turned
his attention to the charge that by leaving her Benedictine monastery
37
Francesco Zabarella, Consilia (Venetiis: Apud Joannem Baptistam a Porta,
1581), XLVI, 39.
38
Helmholz, The Spirit of Classical Canon Law, 167, 172–173.
without authorization, she had incurred the sentence of excommu-

nication. If she was guilty in this instance, her legal right to engage a
proctor to secure her transfer licenses would be in question.
“I am not about to run through all the instances of excommu-
nication ipso iure,” Zabarella testily responded, “if, however, it is Ut
Periculosa that is being alleged in this instance, it speaks in another
case but does nothing [here]. Also, in Venice the nuns whose monas-
teries are open, and who do not observe the clause in the law concern-
ing unlicensed exits, should not be called excommunicates since both
their superiors and the Pope know about and tolerate the situation.”39
Because her right to retain a proctor was an underlying issue, the car-
dinal ended his consilium by stating that even if she were at present an
excommunicate, she would be entitled to complete the legal actions
she had previously initiated. It was clear from his earlier statements,
however, that he was not inclined to view her as one.40
For our purposes, it is important to note that Zabarella cited Ut
Periculoso in this case because the sentence of excommunication of a
professed regular was at issue. He found that the decree did not apply
because this nun was not an apostate. She had not ‘cast off’ her reli-
gious habit to wander in the world; she had left her community with-
out permission, but she had done so to enter another. The gender of
the litigant came into play only with reference to her unauthorized
departure, which would have violated the strict enclosure regulations
mandated in 1298. But Venetian nuns, like so many others throughout
Europe, simply failed to comply with attempts to strictly cloister them,
and as Zabarella concluded, non-compliance did not merit excommu-
nication when Church authorities, including the pope himself, were
fully aware of the situation and tolerated it.
39
Quod autem egrediendo fuerit excommunicata quia non dicitur quo iure,
non curo discurrere per iura in quibus quis est excommunicatus ipso iure.
Sed si pro hoc allegatur cap. Ut periculoso [tit] ne cler.vel monachi, lib 6.
dico quod si bene suspicitur, loquitur in alio casu & nihil facit. Item max-
ime Venetiis non debet dici moniales fore excommunicatas cum pro maiori
parte monasteria monialium sint aperta & non observent clausulam de qua
iure disponitur quod superiores & Papa sciunt & tollerantur.
40
On the ability of the excommunicate to follow such a course of action, see
Elisabeth Vodola, Excommunication in the Middle Ages (Berkeley: Univer-
sity of California Press, 1986), Chapter 4.
The professed nun in this case was not an apostate because her
actions did not stand the test of law to which Cardinal Zabarella sub-
jected them. She had not willfully cast off the religious habit to wander
in the world. But as we have seen, the developed canon law required
the status, as well as the actions, of an alleged apostate be firmly
established for the charge to be valid. Only when the substantialia of
monastic life, the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, had
been freely embraced upon entrance into an approved religious order,
did one become ipso iure a fully professed monk or nun. And only the
professed religious could, by willful abandonment of the vowed life,
become an apostate.
Bishops and their officials, papal auditors, legates, and other eccle-
siastics charged with decision-making in specific cases involving apos-
tate religious got some guidance from academic commentary. The
work of Johannes Andreae, Oldradus de Ponte, Francesco Zabarella
and other famous jurists, helped them to negotiate the accumulated
papal and counciliar legislation which, although far more streamlined
and systematic by 1300, would inevitably be unable to anticipate the
nuances of individual cases. Consilia of the sort we have just exam-
ined, also helped judges apply the law on a case-by-case basis. In the
next chapter we deal with some of those cases, beginning with women
whose status as fully professed nuns had been compromised by factors
which precluded the full, voluntary, mature consent that late medie-
val canon law determined to be vital. In short, they were alleged, not
actual apostates; laywomen who would need the warrant of ecclesias-
tical authority to rid them of allegations to the contrary.
Part II
Casting Off the Habit of

Religion
… having abandoned the habit of her order, she wanders about

from place to place clothed as a secular woman, to the danger
of her soul, scandal of her order, and manifesting pernicious
example to others ….
Writ De Apostata Capiendo

2
Force and Fear
Entrants into religious life were always presumed to have answered

a call from God. Aptly termed a vocation, this call issued from the
deep well-spring of the soul, and it led individuals to seek spiritual
perfection via the ordered life of monastic ritual and routine. For
them, the monastery was a structured environment within which to
craft personal salvation, a school for the Lord’s service.1 The school
was demanding, the lessons never fully mastered, and the routine
penitential in its sameness as well as in its ascetic particulars, but for
those called by God the monastery was a safe haven as well. It was a
place to which one might become particularly attached, the ‘sweet and
beloved dwelling’ immortalized by Alcuin, a refuge from which the
monk or nun might never wish to be parted.2
When this presumption did not hold, when the summons to reli-
gion came not from God but from parents, relatives, or other inter-
ested parties, the story was completely different. For those compelled
to enter, the monastery became a prison. And, like prisoners any-
where, those forced to enter were naturally keen to escape when and
if the occasion presented itself. For victimized women with means,
opportunity, the evidence to support their claims, and no small
amount of persistence, escape came not by flight, but by filing a peti-
tion. As established in the previous chapter, late medieval canon law
provided that if religious profession had been coerced, or was in some
1 Benedict, Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue.

2 Alcuin, “O mea cella,” in Oxford Book of Medieval Latin Verse, ed. F. J.
E. Rabey (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1959), 107–108. Although
Alcuin used the term to designate the palace school at Aix-la-Chapelle,
from which he retired in 796, the poem’s content, Alcuin’s thoughts on the
destruction of Lindisfarne by Vikings, and his own retreat to the Abbey of
St. Martin of Tours, all suggest its appropriateness for inclusion here.
other way technically flawed, it might be nullified upon petition to the

papacy. If successful, the petitioner received a declaratory letter stat-
ing that the vows she had been forced to take were null and void. The
secular status of the petitioner was thus fully restored, and she would
be free to leave the confines of the cloister and return to society.
The most common ground for petitions to nullify vows was the
allegation of vim et metum, force and fear. In cases alleging force and
fear, ecclesiastical decision-makers consistently cited a rule of law that
had been derived from a decretal letter of Pope Alexander III (1159–
1181) which was included in the Liber Extra.3 When edited to fit into
official collections like the Liber Extra, details of the circumstances
that precipitated a papal response such as Alexander III’s were often
abbreviated or entirely excluded. Fortunately, those details survive for
this decretal, and they are worth examining before proceeding with
our case studies for two reasons: first, because the jurists who will be
deciding those cases considered Alexander III’s letter to have crucial
bearing on petitions alleging coerced religious profession; second,
because the decretal illustrates the connections that often existed
between forced profession and alleged, versus certifiable, apostasy.
The facts, in brief, are these. Pope Alexander III had been asked
by the bishop of Huesca and the prior of St. Mary of Saragossa to
advise them about an alleged apostate. She was a young wife whose
husband, an influential nobleman, had suspected her of adultery and
had ordered her to be killed. Having taken her into a forest to do so,
his henchmen were moved by her entreaties and agreed to spare her
life on condition that she enter a monastery. When the husband heard
that she was still alive, he raged about it but then relented and sent
for the bishops of Sarragossa and Tarazona to vest her in the religious
habit. The bishops were ignorant of what had previously transpired,
but because the wife was not only young but also the mother of an
infant son, they decided to speak to her privately about her sudden
desire to become a nun. They learned that she had no wish whatsoever
to enter religion, that she did so only because she feared for her life,
and that, at the first opportunity, she would leave the monastery.
Because he knew of her husband’s reputation for cruelty, the
bishop of Tarazona decided to simulate the young woman’s rite of
admission to the monastery. She entered, and remained there until
3 X 1.40.1.
force and fear 47
her husband died, at which point she left and married again. Angered
by her departure, the nuns in the community insisted that their bishop
excommunicate her – a sentence subsequently confirmed by the
bishop of Tarazona. Pope Alexander III was now being asked to settle
the issue: Was the young woman an apostate nun or had her profes-
sion been invalidated by the fact that she feared for her life when she
took her vows? The pope stated that if investigations proved that a nun
had professed vows through fear of death (timore mortis), her status as
a secular woman was to be restored; only if that nun had subsequently
ratified her profession was she to be compelled to resume her habit.
Although reminiscent of a Grimm’s fairy tale, this twelfth-century
case was anything but. In fact, it poses numerous issues that continue
to emerge in late medieval litigation about forced profession – ambi-
guity surrounding the rite of religious profession and the legality of
marriage subsequent to it; collusion of the principals; and hostility
of fellow religious, to name just a few. By the end of the thirteenth
century, however, the rigorous standard applied by Alexander III to
demonstrate that force had been exerted, timore mortis, had been
replaced by a slightly more elastic legal formula.
In the developed canon law of the late Middle Ages, the norm for
invalidation of solemn vows on the grounds of coercion was the exer-
tion of “force and fear sufficient to move the constant man” (vim et
metum quod cadere poterat in constantem virum).4 Reverential fear
occasioned by verbal abuse or the threatening demeanor of a parent or
guardian did not normally meet this standard. Direct physical threats,
beatings, and other violence including imprisonment, did. The degree
of force did not have to be literally life-threatening; if it could inspire
dread in all but the most hardened of hearts, it was viewed as sufficient
to impede full consent.
There were undoubtedly instances in which genuine, even
life-threatening force had been brought to bear to compel unwilling
candidates to enter religion. We should remember, however, that the
proctors and notaries employed to craft petitions for nullification nat-
urally knew, and used, language designed to illustrate that the level of
coercion exerted upon their clients in such cases met juridical stand-
4 Kirsi Salonen and Ludwig Schmugge, A Sip from the “Well of Grace”:
lic University of America Press, 2009), 55.
ards for the invalidation of vows. Like the clerks in Chancery and
Common Pleas, and those in the ecclesiastical courts of Canterbury
and York, their task was to present information in a format that sat-
isfied judicial requirements and, like them, they wanted to achieve
results.5 Given these carefully shaped accounts, we can readily see why
it became standard practice at the Papal Penitentiary to check the truth
of the facts presented before granting the dispensation requested.6
When petitioners came to the curia personally, one of the minor
penitentiaries in St. Peter’s or one of the bishops present when the
supplication was made would evaluate the particulars of the case.7 In
most of the instances dealing with female petitioners however, the
accused was absent and a local authority, commonly the bishop of the
diocese in question or his vicar, would be directed to verify the facts as
presented by the supplicant. Only after the details were deemed accu-
rate, when the coercion of a supplicant was demonstrable, would a
declaratory letter become valid.
Proof of force and fear was vital to the success of late medie-
val petitions to nullify vows of religion. These requests to the pope
or agents empowered to act in his stead, generally bishops, were to
be filed while petitioners were still vested in the habit of their order
and still residing in the house into which they had been forced. For
example, this was the course of action that Beatrice of Burgundy took,
thereby avoiding allegations of apostasy. In 1289, while still residing
at the monastery of Baume-les-Dames in the diocese of Besançon,
she received a reply to her papal petition for nullification of reli-
5 Narrative analysis of legal documents from a variety of venues confirms

this observation. See for example P. J. P. Goldberg, “Echoes, Whispers,
Ventriloquisms: On Recovering Women’s Voices from the Court of York
in the Later Middle Ages,” in Women, Agency and the Law, 1300–1700, ed.
Bronach Kane and Fiona Williamson (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2013),
31–42. Cordelia Beattie, “Your Oratrice: Women’s Petitions to the Late
Medieval Court of Chancery,” in Women, Agency and the Law, 1300–1700,
ed. Bronach Kane and Fiona Williamson (London: Pickering & Chatto,
2013), 17–29.
6 Salonen and Schmugge, A Sip from the Well of Grace, 76–77.
7 See for example the number of male religious who appeared personally,
in Supplications from England and Wales in the Registers of the Apostolic
Penitentiary 1410–1503, ed. Peter D. Clarke and Patrick N. R. Zutshi, 3 vols,
Canterbury and York Society 103, 104, 105 (Canterbury: Boydell Press for
the Henry Bradshaw Society, 2012), vol. 1, 1410–1464, xxxiii.
force and fear 49
gious vows pronounced because of coercion.8 In it she had claimed

that while still under canonical age for entry into religion, she had
been unwillingly taken to the Benedictine monastery and there com-
pelled “by force and fear sufficient to move the constant man” (vim
et metum quod cadere poterat in constantem virum) to don the habit
of the order. As soon as she came of age, she said, she began to pro-
test that her vows were not legitimate, that her profession had been
coerced, and that she did not want to be a nun. Still, because she feared
the wrath of her brother, Otto, count of Burgundy, she spent several
more years in the monastery, all the while protesting that as soon
as she no longer feared for her life she would leave to return to the
secular world. To that end, she had even entrusted the administra-
tion of some of her holdings to the monastery and to other reliable
people. She now petitioned Pope Nicholas IV to recognize the illegal-
ity of her profession, and to allow her to freely reenter secular society.
Beatrice of Burgundy had been following the ordinary route to free-
dom used by those who alleged forced profession. She petitioned
the papacy for a letter of declaration certifying that she was not a
member of a monastic order even though she had lived as a regu-
lar for some time.9 In this instance, the pope too followed standard
procedure. Nicholas IV referred the matter to the local ordinary, the
Archbishop of Besançon, mandating careful inquiry into the particu-
lars of Beatrice’s case. If she had indeed been compelled to take her
vows, the bishop was to pronounce those vows invalid. Beatrice would
subsequently be regarded as a secular person, completely absolved of
any obligation to the religious life.
Beatrice of Burgundy had not become a runaway, yet had, with
apparent success, escaped the confines of the cloister. Not all women
in her position had her resources, however, and petitions to the papacy
required considerable financial means. Even before a petition reached
the curia, money and effort had to be expended to get it into the hands
of appropriate ecclesiastical authorities. Declaratory letters themselves
were not cheap since “supplicants had to pay for the costs of preparing
the letter, i.e., for the parchment, ink, and the material of the seal as
well as for the work of the scribes and other officials of the Penitentiary
8 Nicholas IV, Les Registres de Nicolas IV, # 1350, 272; Michel Parisse, Les
Nonnes Au Moyen Age (Le Puy: C. Bonneton, 1983), 245–246.
9 Salonen and Schmugge, A Sip from the Well of Grace, 49, 54–55.
who participated in the preparation of the letter.”10 Coupled with the

financial strain, there was the emotional cost. Petitioners might meet
with the powerful counterweight of hostile relatives, intent on forcing
them to retract their pleas or to endure years spent waiting for their
cases to be resolved. They might also be surrounded either by ungen-
erous fellow religious to whom their actions represented an implicit
critique of their own lives, or by equally unsympathetic religious supe-
riors who resented all attempts to subtract a dowry from community
coffers – some of those superiors were so intent on keeping dowries
of alleged apostates that they launched their own counterclaims in the
papal curia.11 These and other complicating factors help explain why
some women who had been forced to enter religious life simply fled
first, and filed later.
Mention of “malevolent people” in Margareta de la Scarpa’s 1481
petition to the Papal Penitentiary hints that she had faced considera-
ble hostility within her community, and that it prompted her to escape
the cloister before the petition was filed.12 Born into a noble family
in Arezzo, Margareta de la Scarpa claimed that while still a minor,
her mother had compelled her “with threats and beatings” to enter
the monastery of Pianta outside the walls of Arezzo, an order of Poor
Clares. Although she made her profession there when of age, she did
so acting in fear of her mother, and with expressed protests that she
did not wish to be a nun. When she finally found an opportunity she
left the monastery, abandoned her habit, and returned to secular life.
Now, she said, she wished to marry but “malevolent people” were
asserting that she was still a nun and could not freely contract mar-
10 Ibid, 78. Ludwig Schmugge and Atria A. Larson, Marriage on Trial: Late
Medieval German Couples at the Papal Court (Washington, DC: Catholic
University of America Press, 2012). Chapter 1 offers a detailed examination
of the way in which petitions were processed by the Penitentiary.
11 Since greed was known to have enabled religious superiors to be com-
plicit in a forced profession, such actions were far from rare. Eileen Power,
Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275 to 1535 (New York: Biblo and Tannen,
1922; 1964), 34–38 presents examples, and we shall deal with a protracted
case here involving the nuns and canons of Sempringham and an alleged
apostate nun.
12 Filippo Tamburini, Santi e peccatori: confessioni e suppliche dai registri
della Penitenzieria dell’Archivio Segreto Vaticano (1451–1586) (Milan: Isti-
tuto de propaganda libraria, 1995), 159–160.
force and fear 51
riage; she begged the Apostolic See to declare her vows invalid and so
allow her to remain in the world and freely contract a legal marriage.
Of course, the path that she had decided to follow was fraught with
its own set of difficulties. As a runaway, Margareta bcame an alleged
apostate. If her petition to invalidate her vows proved unsuccessful,
she would have to seek absolution from the dire sentence of automatic
excommunication that apostasy entailed, as well as to expiate the sin
committed by unwarranted exit from her monastery. Furthermore,
there was absolutely no guarantee that a case for nullification would
be successful, no matter how solidly grounded it appeared to be. The
story of Clarice Styl provides an object example.
Underscoring the evidentiary potential of English common law
sources, the details of Clarice Styl’s story are embedded in a court of
Common Pleas wardship suit, launched by her uncle in 1388.13 He
argued that Clarice was not a professed nun since she had been the
victim of a scheme to disinherit her. Taken under guard to Buckland
Priory in Somerset when she was only eight years old, she had been
told by two of the nuns that the devil would carry her away if she ever
dared to step out the door of the house. Consequently, she remained
and professed her solemn vows, albeit unwillingly and while still
underage. Because she had been both compelled to enter, and under-
age at the time of her profession, her vows should be invalidated and
her status as laywoman and heir confirmed.
Since valid monastic profession was the key to determining
whether Clarice could inherit property, the bishop of Bath and Wells
was called upon to decide that issue. As we have already noted, estab-
lishing whether someone was a cleric, along with other matters referred
to as causae spirituales, were consistently seen by the English Crown
as pertaining to the Church and not the State. These matters included
litigation about marriage and divorce, testamentary succession (to
chattels but not to land), defamation, breach of faith or perjury, usury,
tithes and other ecclesiastical dues with (exceptions), church property
13 David Seipp and Carol Lee, “Legal History: The Year Books. Medieval
English Legal History: An Index and Paraphrase of Printed Year Book
Reports, 1268–1535,” Boston University School of Law, at https://www.
bu.edu/law/faculty-scholarship/legal-history-the-year-books/ [accessed 11
March 2019], # 1388.086. Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 36–38.
(with exceptions), ecclesiastical pensions, and assaults on clergy.14 In

the event, the bishop’s fact-finding revealed a very different version of
the story, which was borne out by the certification he returned to the
court in 1389. The bishop certified that Clarice Styl had indeed been
underage when she entered the priory, but then he added an impor-
tant clarification: He had found no proof of her current unwillingness
to be there. She had remained “to see if the life would please her” and
subsequently assumed the habit and made her profession “according
to the manners and customs of the said house. She was now “more
than fourteen years old, and well contented with the religious life.”15
Whether or not Clarice really was “well contented” with life as a
nun at Buckland, she would at least not have the onus of alleged apos-
tasy to further complicate it. Many other unwillingly professed nuns
elected to avoid that risk as well, either by filing their petitions while
still vested in the habit of their order or never venturing to file them
at all. Others, however, like Margareta, found monastic life unendur-
able and so opted to leave their house regardless of the immediate
consequences. This was the case with our next runaway, and alleged
apostate, Ida Wynkens. In 1466, Ida petitioned the Penitentiary claim-
ing that when she was only ten years of age, her relatives forced her to
enter the Augustinian convent in Bronope in the diocese of Utrecht.16
There she reluctantly professed her vows as a conversa, or lay nun,
since she felt she had no option but to resign herself to her fate. But
when she finally saw an opportunity to escape, she did so, leaving
behind her habit. She now intended to continue to lead a secular life
and to marry, and so pleaded to have her profession invalidated on the
grounds that she had been professed only “under force and fear that
could overcome even the strongest.” The local ordinary was commis-
sioned to ascertain whether Ida’s statements were true. If, as claimed,
sufficient force and fear had been exerted, she would be declared free
from any monastic commitment.
14 Richard Wunderli, London Church Courts and Society on the Eve of the
Reformation (Cambridge, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 1981), 229;
for probate restrictions, 387–388, 423.
15 E 135/6/73.
16 Ludwig Schmugge, “Female Petitioners in the Papal Penitentiary,” Gender
& History 12 (2000), 693. RPG V, Paulus II 1464–1471, 237–238.
force and fear 53
Similarly, Georgine Cruseler of prominent family in the diocese of

Cologne had been placed in the Augustinian convent of Marienthal
at the age of four.17 When she was fourteen, she pronounced vows of
profession in the order but only under duress and all the while saying
that she had no desire to be a nun. Because of the parental pressure
under which she had taken vows, she deemed them invalid and shortly
after left the community to marry Johannes de Scheylberg in a public
ceremony. To silence the objections of her erstwhile community she
petitioned the papacy for a declaration that her vows were invalid and
that she was indeed the lawful wife of Johannes. That petition was
granted, on condition that the archbishop of Cologne confirmed the
facts of the case.
The story of Katherina of Truchsessen of Bamberg is very much
like Georgine’s.18 She too had been brought to an Augustinian house,
Frauenaurach, at a tender age and took the habit of a novice against
her will. She then succumbed to the threats of relatives and made
profession in the order, still protesting that she wanted to leave and
get married. She did so at the first opportunity, when she was thir-
teen, and proceeded to marry a nobleman from Echstätt, Hadmar von
Absberg. Her papal petition, like Georgine Cruseler’s, emphasized the
need to quell objections to her marriage and to establish the fact that
her forced, underage profession had been invalid; it too was granted
upon episcopal confirmation of the facts of the matter.
Like her Italian and German counterparts, Margaret Prestwich
secured her confirmation of invalidity upon papal appeal.19 Bishop
Robert de Stretton of Coventry and Lichfield was commissioned by
the papacy to investigate the claim that Margaret had been compelled
to enter Seton Priory, a Benedictine house in Cumberland, at the age
of eight. There she wore the habit of the novice for years, while con-
sistently protesting that she would never willingly become a nun.
When the day of her profession came, she pretended to be sick but
was carried into the monastery church and blessed as a nun despite
17 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 186. RPG VII, Innozenz VIII
1484–1492, 391.
18 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 192. RPG VI, Sixtus 1471–1484,
541, 552–553.
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 259. Power, Medie-
val English Nunneries, 35–36.
her protests. When she finally saw her chance, she left the priory and
publicly married a man named Robert Holland. In 1383 Bishop de
Stretton ruled that Margaret’s case indeed satisfied the requirements
for invalidating her monastic profession on grounds of force and fear.
Thanks to the bishop’s findings, the legitimacy of her marriage, and of
her secular status, would no longer be disputed.
More often than not, parents or relatives were responsible for forc-
ing young girls to profess vows, but in the case of Elisabeth Prick a
very different set of circumstances arose; the nuns of the community
in which Elisabeth had been placed for her education were the ones
who exerted the pressure.20 Not content to relinquish control when
she reached marriageable age – she had been in their charge since she
was five years old – the nuns of Weißfrauenkloster in Aachen beat
and threatened Elisabeth to make her profession before her four-
teenth birthday. According to her papal petition, filed when she had
finally escaped the monastery, married, and had children of her own,
Elisabeth’s parents and friends had been unaware of her situation
while inside the cloister. Her plea to have her secular status, and thus
her marriage, recognized as canonically valid was granted pending the
usual episcopal confirmation.
The unsavory actions of some Augustinian nuns of Harrold
Priory, in the Lincoln diocese, provide another example.21 In her sup-
plication to the Penitentiary, filed in 1491, Margery Buck averred that
as an impressionable, inexperienced girl, she had promised herself to
the order in return for gifts or as a sort of joke (muneribus seu iocal-
ibus sibi oblatis). She had then been persuaded by the nuns to don
their habit. Ultimately, while still under fourteen years of age, they
had forced her to make profession in their order. After two unsuc-
cessful attempts, Margery had escaped the priory through a window,
discarded her habit, and returned to the secular world where she now
earnestly desired to remain. She consequently asked to have her vows
declared invalid and to be allowed to contract a valid marriage. Her
petition was granted, pending the standard injunction to the local
ordinary to review the facts of the case as presented.
20 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 193. RPG V, Paulus II 1464–1471,

316–317.
21 Clarke and Zutshi, Supplications from England and Wales, vol. 2, 1464–
1492, # 3114.
force and fear 55
Popular supposition notwithstanding, forced profession was not

an exclusively female problem. Young men were also cajoled and then
coerced into monasteries, and they also sought relief from the Papal
Penitentiary: Sixteen of eighteen such supplications filed from England
and Wales between 1410 and 1503 for example, came from men.22 We
shall have more to say about this phenomenon in the Conclusion, but
whether boys or girls were placed in this untenable position, econom-
ics almost always figured in their stories of compelled entrance into,
and subsequent abandonment of, the religious life. Relatives often
sought to exclude a family member from inheriting cash or real prop-
erty by forcing her into a monastery.23 Well-to-do young, and not-so-
young, heiresses were often at risk. The alleged apostate Magdalena
Payerin was one of them, and her story is harrowing.
Hailing from a knightly family in Constance, Magdalena claimed
that her father had forced her to enter a house of Augustinian canon-
esses at Münsterlingen on Lake Constance when only seven years of
age.24 Years later, when she discovered that he had done so to disin-
herit her in favor of her brother, she protested that she did not want
to make her profession, and even filed a notarized document to that
effect. Hearing of her contumacy, her father came to the monastery
and “by beating and threatening her with prison or even death if
she did not comply” pressured her to take her vows. Even as she did
so, however, she told her fellow nuns that her profession was made
only because of “force and fear of death”. At the first opportunity,
Magdalena left Münsterlingen and her monastic habit behind with the
intention of living in the world and marrying. She petitioned the pope,
and in 1438 the bishop of Constance was ordered to fact-find and so to
determine if the details of the case were as Magdalena had presented
22 Clarke and Zutshi, Supplications from England and Wales, vol. I, 1410–
1464, xxxii, xl. Sixteen specific supplications from monks are cited. For
a later period, note Anne Jacobson Schutte, By Force and Fear: Taking
and Breaking Monastic Vows in Early Modern Europe (Ithaca and Lon-
don: Cornell University Press, 2011), 4. In her study of 978 petitions to
the papacy for release from monastic vows filed between 1668 and 1793,
Schutte found that 807 were made by men.
23 Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 33–34. Logan, Runaway Religious, 22.
Schutte, By Force and Fear, 17. And the cases subsequently presented here.
24 Schmugge, “Female Petitioners,” 692. Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on
Trial, 194–195. RPG I, Eugens IV 1431–1447, 1.
them. She would be free to live a secular life and marry whomever
she chose if they were. The bishop, however, was uncooperative, and
Magdalena filed another supplication in 1439 and yet another in 1440.
Ultimately, the invalidity of her monastic profession was confirmed
in March 1442, at the Council of Basel. In this long and costly pro-
cess, Magdalena’s considerable inner, as well as financial resources,
were supplemented by the skill of the man she had married: Friedrich
Heidenheimer, notary and scribe in the court of Otto III, bishop of
Constance.
A young noblewoman from Mainz, Ursula Schenkin de Erbach,
apparently posed such a fiscal threat to her rapacious kin that, had
she been less redoubtable, they would surely have prevailed. Forced
to enter the Benedictine house of Frauenalb in the diocese of Speyer
when underage, she was then pressured to take her final vows before
completing her novitiate year, as required by law.25 Aware of this
canonical irregularity, and protesting against it, she managed to escape
the abbey, only to be caught and returned to it, this time by relatives
who threatened to kill her if she left again. Next, again uncanonically
and of course without her approval, they transferred her to a different
Benedictine abbey, this time in Zurich. Having been there for four
years, Ursula once again found a way out, this time it would appear,
aided at last by an outsider. In her supplication to the Penitentiary she
stated that having abandoned her monastic habit, she had been living
with the cleric, Johannes Zacz, who was the father of her children and
whom she wished to marry.
Machinations such as these, designed to rid relatives of a female
claimant to an inheritance, were often successful. But when outsiders
interested themselves in the cause of an unwillingly professed heir-
ess – no matter how self-serving their reasons for such interest – her
chances of success increased exponentially; and the more influential
the outside party or parties, the more likely the success of the peti-
tioner. Magdalena Payerin certainly had the help of her new husband
when it came to seeking redress, and an equally complex case, this
time from England, highlights the importance of using connections
within secular society to secure mutual advantages. It is also one of
those rare cases in which court records, including those produced by
25 Schmugge, “Female Petitioners,” 693. RPG VI, Sixtus IV 1471–1484,

474–475.
force and fear 57
the local ordinary’s commissioners, allow us to follow the details to its

resolution.26
On 16 November 1385, the writ de apostata capiendo was issued
directing the king’s serjeant-at-arms to “arrest and deliver to the
Sisters Minoresses, London, for punishment, Mary de Felton, an apos-
tate vagabond sister,” who had left the Minories “against the will of
the abbess [Eleanor Scrope].”27 The language was formulaic, and Mary
was certainly not the first person to be targeted by this standardized
writ used to enlist the aid of the secular arm in the arrest and return of
runaway religious. It was less common, however, for the alleged apos-
tate to respond to such a writ with a plea of non-profession, but that
was precisely how Mary Felton responded. We know this because of
yet another writ, entered in the register of bishop of London, Robert
Braybrooke (1336/7–1404).28 Dated 8 November 1386, this writ was
attested to by the Chief Justice of the court of Common Pleas, Robert
Belknap.29 In the name of the Crown, Belknap required the bishop to
submit the question of Mary Felton’s religious profession to a curial
decision, and then to inform his justices of that decision so that Mary’s
lawsuit, pending in the court of Common Pleas, might be concluded.
In that suit, Mary contended that one John Sturmy had unjustly
deprived her of profits from the manor of Kirbybiden, Norfolk. The
defendant claimed the charge was untenable since Mary had been
a professed nun of the order of St. Clare at the time. Mary, in turn,
replicated saying that she had never been a professed nun; that she
remained, as she always had been, a layperson.30
26 For a full treatment of this case see Elizabeth Makowski, “The Curious
Case of Mary Felton,” in Proceedings of the Fourteenth Congress of Medi-
eval Canon Law, Monumenta Iuris Canonici, Series C: Subsidia (Vatican
City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 2016), 733–741.
27 CPR 1385–1389, 86. Some of the details of this case are recounted in Anne
Francis Claudine Bourdillon, The Order of Minoresses in England, Brit-
ish Society of Franciscan Studies 12 (Manchester: Manchester University
Press, 1926), 68–70. The original writ is not among those in The National
Archives.
28 R. G. Davies, “Braybrooke, [Braybroke] Robert (1336/7–1404),” ODNB.
29 Registers of the Bishops of London, 1304–1660, Episcopal Registers Pt. 5
(Brighton: Harvester Press Microform Publications, 1984), Register of Rob-
ert Braybroke 1381–1404, 2:408.
30 Ibid. See also, SC8/146/7276.
Mary Felton’s plea of non-profession, countering the charge that

she was an apostate nun, was embedded in this common law suit for
restitution of property. Like the judge in the case of Clarice Styl, Chief
Justice Belknap was cooperating with the State by remanding a ques-
tion of Mary’s religious profession to the ecclesiastical forum. But
why did the alleged apostate, Mary, bring such a suit for restitution
of property in the first place? The answer I think is that Mary was
astute enough to know that she had a much better chance to establish
her status as a laywoman if she had the endorsement of other mem-
bers of secular society. In 1385, when Mary’s former husband Geoffrey
Worsley died, leaving behind his second wife, Isabel Lathom, and her
year-old daughter, Elizabeth, she finally saw her opportunity.
Robert Worsley, a relative, acquired wardship of the infant
Elizabeth with the intention of marrying her to his son and thus gain-
ing the estate. But Geoffrey Worsley’s sister Alice and her husband
set out to prove that Elizabeth was illegitimate, and thus unable to
inherit, leaving Alice as the collateral heir instead. It was at this junc-
ture that Mary Felton became very useful to them. Mary, they claimed,
had been compelled to divorce Geoffrey Worsley and then compelled
to enter religion – vis et metus nullifying both the divorce and her
religious profession. Isabel, they averred, had never been Geoffrey
Worsley’s lawful wife, so Elizabeth could not now be his lawful heir.
When Mary became an alleged apostate, she did so with the sup-
port of Alice Worsley and her family since she would help them prove
that Elizabeth Worsley was in fact illegitimate. The family, in turn,
would help Mary prove that she had never been willingly professed
and so might stake her widow’s claim against John Sturmy – Geoffrey
Worsley had land around Kirby Bedon [Kirbybiden], in Norfolk.31 In
this two-tiered process, Mary was soon further aided by a new hus-
band, John Curson. A wealthy and socially influential Norfolk knight,
Curson had probably come to know Mary while she was at Aldgate,
since he had been obliged to pay his rents “in the presence of the
abbess and of Mary de Felton”.32 In 1391, when her still unresolved
suit against John Sturmy reemerged in the plea rolls it was now filed
31 See above, n. 22. It may be recalled that John Sturmy was among the recip-
ients of Joan’s largess in 1384. Also, he is mentioned as holding the manor
of Kirbybydon before 1394 and as the patron of the church there in 1393.
32 Makowski, “Curious Case,” 740.
force and fear 59
jointly, by Johannes Curson, miles et maria uxor eius.33 In this itera-

tion of the complaint, husband and wife charge that, “with force and
arms he [Sturmy] had taken away goods and chattels valued at 100
shillings,” from Kirbybiden; Sturmy’s counter claim now adds the
note that Mary had been a professed nun “long before her marriage
with the said John [ Curson],” adding an additional complication to
an already complex case.34
The resolution of this court of Common Pleas case hinged on the
findings of Bishop Braybrooke’s commission, and Braybrooke’s reg-
ister shows that he lost no time in executing his initial charge from
Westminster. On 5 December 1386, he had appointed John Appleby,
Doctor of Laws and “dean of our church in London [St. Paul’s],” and
William Sondeye, licentiate in the laws and “our commissary general,”
to resolve the issue of Mary’s alleged profession as a nun.35 Since the
deliberations of these learned practitioners, along with all the other
records of the London commissary court for the fourteenth century
are no longer extant, we can’t be sure what factors held up their deci-
sion-making. For it was not until 1392 that the episcopal findings in
the case, along with the original royal writs, were finally issued. At
long last Mary possessed Bishop Braybrooke’s certification, which
clearly stated “that she was a secular and had never been otherwise.”36
Since Mary probably died in 1398 – John Curson took a second wife
in 1399 – she would never receive her due as the daughter of Thomas
Felton. Mary’s mother outlived her by more than ten years, and so
held fast to Fordham manor, as well as to the rest of the Feltons’ estate.
But Bishop Braybrooke’s certification did mean that Mary Felton’s
son, John, would at length be able to inherit it.
Returning to the Continent and the records of the Papal
Penitentiary, we conclude with two more petitions for nullification of
profession on the grounds of force and fear. Like the others we have
looked at, they were both filed by alleged apostates, both of whom
sought declaratory letters allowing them to take up secular life with its
attendant rights. Unlike the other petitions, however, these requests
need never have been made. The first was filed in 1472 by Gertrud
33 E 135/6/74, image # 2.
34 CP 40/523.
35 Cynthia J. Neville, “Appleby, John (d. 1389)”, ODNB.
36 E 135/6/74.
Doven, whose mother had forced her to enter a house of Franciscan

tertiaries in Cologne when she was just a girl.37 Gertrud had stayed
there for some time against her will but finally left to secretly marry a
certain Stephan de Walle. She wished to remain married to him and
to have children, but “certain simple people” (a nonnullis tamen sim-
plicibus asseritur) claimed that she was not legally wed to Stephan and
that her children were illegitimate. Because of these assertions, she
begged for a declaration to the contrary from the Holy See, which the
bishop of the diocese was empowered to deliver if the particulars of
the case were as Gertrud presented them.
The second supplication, also filed in 1472, came from the dio-
cese of Utrecht. In it Alheydis Wnandi alleged that her mother had
used various threats to compel her to enter a community of women
known as beguines, who lived like Franciscan tertiaries (donum in
qua quaedam mulieres congregate begine nuncupate certum modum
habent vivendi sub o. tert. Fr. min.)38 Alheydis donned the habit that
these women customarily wore and lived with them for several years,
intending to leave as soon as her mother died or some other opportu-
nity presented itself. When her mother did die, she cast off her beguine
habit and left the community. She now wanted to get married, but
some people were saying that she was a professed sister and so could
not remain in the world and contract a valid marriage (a nonnullis
asseratur ipsam premissorum occasione sororem prof. esse et in seculo
remanere ac matrim. contrahere non posse). Like Gertrud, she asked
for a declaration to the contrary from the Holy See, which was granted
contingent upon diocesan review of the case.
What distinguishes these petitions from previous requests for dis-
pensation to return to secular life is that in both instances the sup-
plicants had entered quasi-religious communities. Formed by devout
laywomen who lived chastely and in common but who were not
bound by formal monastic vows, such communities had arisen simul-
taneously throughout continental Europe. Individually, their mem-
bers might be called beatas in Spain; bizzoche, pinzochere, mantelle or
sorores de poenitentia in Italy; and beguines, tertiaries or the Sisters
of the Common Life in the North. Collectively, they were referred to
37 Schmugge, “Female Petitioners,” 693. RPG VI, Sixtus IV 1471–1484,

469–470.
38 Schmugge, “Female Petitioners,” 693. RPG VI, Sixtus IV 1471–1484, 470.
force and fear 61
as mulieres religiosae because of their humility, asceticism and chas-

tity. These ‘religious women,’ however, lacked that status canonical-
ly.39 Because they had not taken solemn monastic vows of profession
as nuns, canon law dictated that they could leave their communities
incurring neither the penalty of excommunication nor the charge of
apostasy. Why then had Gertrud Doven, and Alheydis Wnandi, felt
the need to allege force and fear and to apply to the Penitentiary for a
dispensation in order to return to secular life? This is not an insignif-
icant question and the answer is relevant not only to these two cases
but also to the outcome of Margareta Bartenbechin’s petition, treated
in the next chapter. And because it could have influenced the deci-
sion-making process of apostates generally, it will be dealt with in
the Conclusion as well. A few general comments are in order here,
however, since without them we cannot appreciate the dilemma that
Gertrud and Aldeydis must have faced.
There is no little irony in the fact that while strict lines demarcating
professed nuns – religious women, canonically speaking – had been
drawn by 1300, the popular tendency to refer to members of informal,
quasi-religious communities as mulieres religiosae remained undi-
minished. The twelfth century had seen a groundswell of female piety
that resulted in precedented numbers of women espousing an ideal
of spiritual perfection quite at odds with that of the cloistered nun.40
Convinced that the complete separation from the world demanded
of professed nuns was not a prerequisite for sanctity, these women
joined informal religious communities whose members were bound
neither by solemn vows nor by an approved monastic rule.
The women who lived in such quasi-religious communities con-
tinued to be regarded as “religious women” by their neighbors and
relatives, even though they fell short of the formal requirements for
that designation. Since they lived in common and wore distinctive
habits, might not ordinary people be forgiven for thinking of them as
nuns? Might those same people be scandalized if they saw one leave

Catholic University of America Press, 2005), Introduction.
40 Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Signif-
icance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1987), Chapter 1, provides a superb overview of this phenomenon in
the later Middle Ages.
her community, get married, and start a family? Unaware of the tech-
nical requirements for full and irrevocable religious commitment,
onlookers could certainly be confused, and by the time that Gertrud
and Alheydis filed their petitions, such confusion had spread beyond
just the “simple people.”
Additional confusion was a consequence of the legal insecurity
that all members of informal religious communities faced. Despite
being lauded by many for their unconstrained piety, beguines, ter-
tiaries, and, slightly later, the Sisters of the Common Life, occasioned
blame, and even persecution as well. The well-documented persecu-
tion of beguines following the publication of a decree Cum de quibus-
dam issued by the Council of Vienne (1311–1312) is a case in point.
Since certain women commonly known as beguines neither

promise obedience to anyone, nor renounce personal property,
nor profess any approved rule, they are by no means consid-
ered religious, although they wear a so-called beguine habit and
attach themselves to certain religious to whom they are drawn
by special affection. Reports have come to us from trustworthy
sources that some of them, as if having been led into insanity
dispute and preach about the highest Trinity and the divine
essence and introduce opinions contrary to the catholic faith
concerning the articles of the faith and the sacraments of the
church. They lead many simple people who are deceived in such
things into various errors, and they do and commit much else
under the veil of sanctity which occasions danger to souls.41
Quasi-religious women fell short of the formal requirements for the

designation ‘religious,’ and the existence of those formal, canon-
ical requirements had implications for all devout lay women who
did not meet them. Lacking formal ecclesiastical status, quasi-reli-
gious women possessed no canonical bulwark against the vicissi-
tudes of popular and ecclesiastical opinion. In practice this meant
that beguines in one region might enjoy many of the same privileges
that were accorded nuns, and in another find themselves branded as
heretics; that a female tertiary might be allowed to inherit property
in one Italian town, but be forbidden to do so by the laws of another;
41 Makowski, Pernicious, 23–24.

force and fear 63
that Sisters of the Common Life might be required to pay taxes and
to appear before secular magistrates during the tenure of one bishop,
and find themselves exempt from both obligations by his successor.
Attempts to standardize practice often led to more consistency in one
area of the law, but only served to further blur the distinction between
mulieres religiosae and nuns in another.
For example, since 1289, the Third Order of St. Francis had been
solemnly approved by Pope Nicholas IV in his bull Supra montem,
which provided the brothers and sisters of the order of penitence, or
tertiaries, as they were now explicitly designated, with an approved
rule.42 The regula contained precise stipulations about admission to
and government of the order, as well as the dress and comportment of
its members. Prospective tertiaries were to be examined for evidence
of good character and sound beliefs. Once admitted to the fraternity,
members were bound to remain in it, save to enter an approved reli-
gious order.
Originally designed to accommodate the laity whose family obli-
gations kept them from becoming regulars, female tertiary convents
soon emerged, and with them came considerable difference of opin-
ion about the precise nature of the commitment that these sisters
– for they were called sisters – had made upon entry. Jurists grudg-
ingly granted religious status to members of the Third Order “broadly
speaking,” while being careful to distinguish between monastic pro-
fession and the mere promise of obedience, such as is made by tertiar-
ies. By the fifteenth century, legal opinion on this issue had become if
anything even more various. In the absence of any explicit legislation
on the topic, canonists were free to draw their own conclusions con-
cerning the exact nature and extent of ecclesiastical privilege enjoyed
by tertiaries, not to mention any number of other quasi-religious per-
sons in late medieval society. Finally, and perhaps most troublesome
from a canonical standpoint, were the structural alterations made in
the later fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that turned beguine and
tertiary communities into close approximations of monasteries. The
great closed complexes or curtis beguinages, built in response to eccle-
siastical mandates, very much resembled monasteries and the option
for strict enclosure afforded tertiaries after 1476 further obscured dis-
42 BR 4, 90–95. John Moorman, A History of the Franciscan Order (Oxford:

Clarendon Press, 1968), 217.
tinctions between nuns and quasi-religious women.43 By 1479, mem-

bers of the Third Order of Franciscans and Dominicans who lived in
these communities would, like apostate monks or nuns, incur excom-
munication if they left.44
In the case of Gertrud and Alheydis, adjudicated just prior to those
additions to tertiary constitutions, the judges of the Penitentiary ulti-
mately ruled in accordance with the principle governing all preced-
ing cases of alleged apostasy. The perpetual obligation to observe the
solemn vows that bind the regular – the obligation that was created by
formal profession into an approved religious order – was simply not
created by anything short of it. No profession, no apostasy. The full
measure of secular status was, therefore, accorded them both. Little
wonder, however, that these women should have felt required to have
that papal determination put in writing.
The use of force to extract vows of profession vitiated the prime
requirement for religious profession: consent freely given. But there
were two other canonical requirements, involving age and marital
status respectively, that might also undermine the validity of monastic
profession. As we have seen, several of the petitions filed for invalida-
tion because of force and fear mentioned entrance into a community
as a child or underage adolescent, with coerced profession taking place
once the canonically recognized minimum age, thirteen for girls, had
been reached. The case of Ursula Schenkin de Erbach of Mainz, and
that of Katherina of Truchsessen, contained this complication along
with others. But even if vows had not been compelled, evidence of
underage profession provided grounds for nullification.
As with requests for nullification of vows taken under duress, peti-
tions alleging minority of the professed were to be filed while suppli-
cants were still vested in the habits of their orders and still resident in
the houses into which they had allegedly been forced. Countless such
petitions regularly came into the offices of the Penitentiary, a surpris-
ing number from young men whom mendicant orders were reputed
to recruit without regard to age requirements.45 Many of these prop-
ica Press, 1999), 127.
44 BR 3, 173–176. Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 164–165.
45 Logan, Runaway Religious, 12–16.
force and fear 65
erly filed supplications met with success. Nevertheless, as with those

petitioning on the grounds of force and fear, some women were so
unhappy living a life chosen for them by parents or guardians that
they fled their communities first and asked pardon later. Not all were
granted that favor.
Agnes of Clivedon, daughter of Richard de la Ryver, ran away from
Shaftesbury Abbey, Dorset, in 1374.46 Not coincidentally, this was the
year in which her brother, Thomas, sole heir to her father’s consider-
able landholdings, died.47 We learn from the inquisition post mortem
that Agnes then married Richard Clivedon and took the profits from
one of Thomas’s manors. They did not do so without resistance, how-
ever, since Richard de la Ryver’s sister, Joan, and her husband also
sought to live off the revenues from that manor. It was apparently
when challenged by these two claimants that Agnes petitioned for a
judgment on her status in 1392. In her petition she alleged that her
entrance at the age of seven invalidated her monastic profession even
though she had remained at the abbey for nine years afterward. It was
not until 1406 that Joan’s son was declared lawful heir of Thomas de
la Ryver, divesting Agnes and Richard Clivedon of any claims on the
manor; one year later, Agnes received a judgment on her petition
which was even more unwelcome. In 1407, the bishop of Salisbury
formally certified that “Agnes, daughter of Richard de la Ryver, was a
professed nun in the Abbey of Shaftesbury.”48 What that finding did
to jeopardize her marriage we can only assume from the fact that she
is styled “daughter of Richard de la Ryver” by the bishop.
In cases such as this one, complications arose because of the cus-
tomary practice of a specific religious community – nunneries like
Shaftesbury allowed youthful profession despite the fact that it vio-
lated the canons. The developed canon law dealt with these tradi-
tional practices by applying regulations cited in Chapter 1: namely,
that if a candidate had been admitted to a community while underage,
wearing the habit of the professed for more than a year after reaching
majority sufficed to establish professed status. It was apparently on
this basis that Agnes of Clivedon’s case failed. But when coupled with
other technical or juridical violations, pleas of underage profession
46 Ibid, 16.
47 CIPM 7–14 Henry IV 1405–1413, 16:64.
48 E 135/6/76.
might succeed even under these circumstances. The success or failure

of these more complicated petitions hinged upon the results of judi-
cial review, which inevitably involved considerable expense especially
if appeals to higher courts were involved; the corollary lapse of time as
petitions were drafted and redrafted to move up the curial ladder was
also a given. All these elements, and more, are showcased in the con-
voluted case of the alleged apostate, Alice of Everyngham.49
In December of 1366 a writ de apostata capiendo was issued by the
Crown upon the request of the Master of the Order of Sempringham,
William of Prestwold.50 It signified for arrest and return to the master
or his attorney, “Alesia, daughter of John de Everyngham, nun of the
priory of Haverholme [Haverholy], in the diocese of Lincoln, of that
order, who has spurned the habit of that order and now is at large in
secular habit.”51 But in May 1367, again by order of the Crown, that
writ was stayed.52 After its issuance, Alice had appealed to Rome, filing
a writ in Chancery for interim protection.53 William, the Master of
Sempringham, who had charged her with apostasy, had consequently
been ordered to appear in that court where Alice, via her attorney
James Sothill [Suthulle; Huthulle], argued that she should not be
arrested pending her papal appeal. Sothill alleged that Alice had never
been a professed nun and that she would prove it in due course; Master
William countered that she was indeed a long-time professed nun
who had abandoned her vows and her house. Since both claims still
lacked supporting evidence, the bishop of Lincoln, John Buckingham,
was commissioned to call the parties before him, and to conduct an
in-depth inquest into the matter. Brothers and sisters of Haverholme
priory, as well as neighbors and others, were to be questioned and then
an episcopal certification submitted to Chancery by the start of the
Michaelmas term, which began at the end of September. Until such
time, the Crown issued its command to stay execution of the writ for
49 A. K. MacHardy, Royal Writs Addressed to John Buckingham, Bishop of

Lincoln: 1363–1398. Lincoln Register 12B: A Calendar, The Canterbury and
York Society 86 (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 1997), xix–xx contains
some of the details of this case. Logan, Runaway Religious, 24.
50 CPL “Lateran Regesta 150: 1410–1411.” CPR 1404–1415, 6.
51 C 81 1791/2. CPR 1364–1367, 369.
52 CCR 1364–1369, 379.
53 C 269/4/29. MacHardy, Royal Writs, 159. Both the writ, addressed to
Bishop John Buckingham, and its return are in very poor condition.
force and fear 67
Alice’s arrest since James Sothill and one William Preston had posed
bond of £100 assuring that she would appear before the bishop and
be examined at the inquest. Two further stays of execution of the writ
against Alice were subsequently granted, on grounds that the bishop
of Lincoln had not yet sent in his certification on the issue; the last
such extension taking the issue into February of 1368. The bishop met
that last deadline, since on 12 February 1368 he certified “that Alesia is
not a nun of that house [of Haverholme] nor professed in the same.”54
Consequently, the writ de apostata capiendo issued for her return to
Haverholme was cancelled.
On what basis did Alice of Everyngham counter the claim that she
was an apostate nun, and how can we account for the success of that
plea? Lacking full documentation of the episcopal inquest, we may
never have fully satisfactory answers to these questions, but records
that we do possess provide a good deal of information. Chief among
those records is the papal appeal filed by the unrelenting Master of
Sempringham only months after Alice had been absolved of apos-
tasy by episcopal certification. In May 1368, Pope Urban V issued
a mandate to the archbishop of York, John Thoresby, requiring
him to review the case of William, Master General of the Order of
Sempringham, versus Alice daughter of John of Everyngham, “nun of
the monastery of Haverholme in the diocese of Lincoln.”55 According
to Prestwold, Alice had willingly entered the aforesaid monastery
chosen for her by her parents. There she received the habit and after
reaching the age of eight, the designated age of consent in this par-
ticular order, remained, wearing the habit of the professed nun; in
this manner, and as commonly occurred in this house, she was tacitly
professed. Subsequently, however, she left the monastery, cast off her
54 CPR 1367–1370, 83.

55 Urban V, Lettres Communes: Analysées D’Après Les Registres Dits d’Av-
ignon Et Du Vatican. Tome VIII, Bibliothèque Des Écoles Françaises
D’Athènes Et De Rome, 3e Série Lettres Communes Des Papes Du XIVe
Siècle (Rome: Ecole français de Rome, 1982), # 22025; Registers of Urban
V 7:257, in Calendar of Papal Registers Relating To Great Britain and
Ireland: Volume 14, 1484–1492, ed. J A Twemlow (London: Her Majes-
ty’s Stationery Office, 1960), 34–39. British History Online, Bibliography
accessed March 29, 2019, http://www.british-history.ac.uk/cal-papal-reg-
isters/brit-ie/vol14/pp34-39. For a biography of the archbishop: Jonathan
Hughes, “Thoresby, John (d. 1373),” ODNB.
religious habit, donned secular clothes, and for a long time wandered
about in society. Persisting in this behavior, she was signified by writ
as a notorious apostate and commanded to return to her monastery
and resume wearing her habit. Because she ignored that writ, she was
excommunicated with her sentence announced publicly. She then
started to live with one James de Suthulle, a layman of the diocese
of York, to whom she said she was to be married. The Master took
the matter to Chancery, where his attorney and hers made conflicting
claims and Alice refused to appear, since she denied that the court had
competence in this matter. The result was that the judge recused him-
self and referred the case to the dean of Lincoln. Two canons from the
Lincoln diocese, Geoffrey Scrop and Raynald de Belvero, were com-
missioned to hear the cause and after examination they absolved Alice
from excommunication. Since the Master General was now appealing
this verdict, however, it was up to the archbishop to summon those
concerned and resolve the contest.
Prestwold’s account makes it clear that at least one of the grounds
upon which Alice had rested her case for nullification of vows was
minority at the time of profession. And even if his version of her will-
ing acceptance of her fate varnishes the truth, Alice of Everyngham
would seem to have more in common with Agnes of Clivedon than
with a successful petitioner for nullification of vows. After all, she had
remained at Haverholme for years after reaching the age of discretion
and had worn the habit of the professed nun during such time. Urban
V must have seen the matter as problematic since he entertained the
Master’s appeal to have the case reopened. But the fact remains that
the bishop of Lincoln had arrived at his determination that Alice had
never been a nun via an inquiry conducted by two canons, at least
one of whom, Geoffrey Scrop, held a bachelor’s degree in canon law.56
We are left to consider the grounds for this episcopal certification and
we find them in the record of a long-standing jurisdictional dispute
between Master Prestwold and the bishop of Lincoln – a dispute that
directly affected the nuns of Haverholme.
56 H. P. F. King, “Prebendaries: Haydour-cum-Walton,” Fasti Ecclesiae

Anglicanae 1300–1541: vol. 1, Lincoln diocese, British History Online, http://
www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=32627&strquery=Scrope
[accessed 11 March 2019].
force and fear 69
In 1363, the bishop of Lincoln petitioned the papacy for redress

in a matter regarding the nuns of the Order of Sempringham and the
then prior of that order William Prestwold.57 It reads as follows.
Whereas the prior of Sempringham, who has many houses of

nuns to whom the bishop of Lincoln was used to give benedic-
tion, and to consecrate the said nuns, is endeavouring surrep-
titiously to obtain from the pope the right to bear the mitre,
ring, and pastoral staff, and to consecrate the nuns, the bishop
prays the pope to revoke whatever has been done; especially
since it would be to the prejudice of the diocesan, and also other
prelates without comparison greater than the prior, and peers
of the realm, would disdain to take a lower place in congrega-
tions, and at burials of the dead. Let the cardinal of Terouanne
Morin(en) hear the cause.58
These accusations appear well founded, since as early as 1345 Prestwold

was present at the papal court in Avignon as a petitioner.59 They are
confirmed when he begins to arouse the ire of the Crown, as well as
the bishop. In 1366, the very year that Alice of Everyngham was sig-
nified for arrest as an apostate nun, the king issued a strongly worded
injunction to Prestwold, who by this time had become the Master of
the Order.60 It warns him under threat of contempt, “to desist from the
further prosecution of proceedings begun by him without the realm,
not departing for that purpose to foreign parts nor sending nor suffer-
ing messengers or others to be sent out of the realm without the king’s
licence,” and to resolve the conflict “which was aroused between the
said bishop [John of Lincoln] on the one part and the said master, the
monasteries, priories, brethren and sisters to him subject on the other
part.” William is commanded “to admit the said bishop as ordinary,
at any rate in places within his diocese, to bless the nuns of that order
and to exercise of other matters incumbent on his office in regard to
57 The Heads of Religious Houses England and Wales II 1216–1377, ed. David
Smith (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 528.
58 CPP ‘Volume 36: 1 Urban V’, Petitions to the Pope: 1342–1419 (1896),
402–419.
59 CPP ‘Volume 9: 4 Clement VI’, Petitions to the Pope: 1342–1419 (1896),
92–105.
60 CCR 1364–1369, 227–228.
persons of religion or the order aforesaid, suffering without resistance

his jurisdiction and the execution of his said office.” William is not to
pursue his latest appeals to the pope alleging episcopal interference
when the bishop, “in accordance with the king’s said ordinance as he
was bound to do, has blessed certain nuns of the order and monastery
of Sempyngham.”
As we have observed earlier, canon law (X.3.31.23 and VI 3.14.1)
stipulated episcopal blessing of nuns tacitly professed to eliminate
at least some of the ambiguity surrounding their status. Given the
timing of the dispute between the bishop of Lincoln and the Master
of Sempringham with respect to the bishop’s right as local ordinary
to bless the nuns of that order, the latter’s charge against Alice might
have lacked credibility in the eyes of the bishop; this jurisdictional
conflict certainly colored the inquest into her status as a fully pro-
fessed nun. Was William Prestwold’s appeal to reopen the case against
her successful? Did the archbishop of York follow the papal mandate
to review the dispute? The extant archiepiscopal registers give no indi-
cation of it. But even if the appeal was heard, the likelihood that it
materially affected Alice of Everyngham, wife of James Sothill, the
man who had served as her attorney, seems slim. William Prestwold
had so alienated the Crown by his continued machinations at the
papal court, that when Richard II wished to appoint a monastic supe-
rior to collect the clerical tenth in 1388, he categorically excluded any
of the Order of Sempringham. For “all priors of that order in England
are appointed and removed by the master of the order at the will of
the master and his chapter,” to the possible disadvantage of the king.61
Aside from force and fear then, the minority of a candidate at
the time of profession might (alone or in conjunction with that plea
of coercion) be grounds for nullification of monastic vows. So too,
marriage prior to profession might be alleged to invalidate vows and
hence undermine any charge of apostasy made against a runaway.
Married people might legally enter religious life if they satisfied cer-
tain canonical requirements, always including consent of a spouse;
those men and women who had been validly married, however, could
not simply overlay marriage vows with vows of religious profession.62
Without other complicating factors, a validly married person who had
61 CCR 1381–1385, 357–358.

62 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 160.
force and fear 71
also taken vows of profession would ordinarily not have needed to

run away in order to leave the monastic life, since merely confessing
the previous commitment would result in his or her ejection from the
community. This was the case, for example, when John de Beverley of
St. Mary’s Abbey, York, admitted to his abbot that he had contracted
and consummated marriage before he entered the community.63
There were, of course, exceptions.
According to a joint supplication to the Penitentiary filed in 1483,
Jutta Bollen of Utrecht had left her lawful husband, Gottfried, and
made profession as a nun.64 After some time, she fled her community,
returned to her husband and raised a family with him. In their petition
the couple sought confirmation of Jutta’s secular status, and hence the
validity of their fruitful, if not always uncomplicated, marriage. Their
request was granted.
Parental pressure might also complicate the issue of prior mar-
riage and the taking of vows. Among the aristocracy the cost of dow-
ries befitting a girl’s social class far outstripped the entrance or annuity
fees required by the most prestigious monasteries. If relatives had con-
spired to force a young woman who had clearly wanted to marry to
become a nun, her only option might be to marry secretly, then coun-
ter allegations of apostasy with evidence of her prior marriage. Yda
of Cologne, for example, had secretly married Gottfried against the
will of her father and stepmother.65 When their marriage was discov-
ered, her parents promised the abbess of the convent of Poor Clares
in Wamell a portion of Yda’s assests and forcibly sent her under cover
of night to the monastery. There she was keep under guard, since she
continued to protest that she would return to her husband, and after
a probationary year she was compelled to take her vows of profession
as a Poor Clare. Since her husband ultimately used forced entry to
free Yda, their papal petition, first filed in 1465, met with consider-
able delays. By 1467, however, with a suitable penance imposed on
the determined Gottfried, their marriage was declared valid against all
contrary claims, and Yda’s secular status, as well as the legitimacy of
her children, secured.
63 Logan, Runaway Religious, 17.

64 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 193. RPG VI, Sixtus 1471–1484,
629.
65 Schmugge and Larson, Marriage on Trial, 189–191.
Margery Hedsor also pleaded force and fear along with a prior
marital commitment in her attempt to have her vows of profession
nullified, but both that plea and the circumstances under which it was
made were decidedly unusual.66 After twenty-three years spent as an
Augustinian canoness at Burnham Abbey, Buckinghamshire, Margery
left in 1311 and rejoined her husband Roger Blaket of Rickmansworth.
The couple then brought a common law action claiming by writ of
novel disseisin that they had been unjustly deprived of their freehold in
Middlesex. The case is reported in full in the Year Books of Edward II
under the rubric Blaket v. Loveday et al., affording us a unique insight
into this intriguing story.67
Margery appeared in the king’s court in secular dress and appointed
an attorney. Defense immediately objected, saying that Margery was
unable to sue since she was in fact a professed nun and so dead to all
property claims. Undeterred, her attorney replied that the court had
already recognized Margery’s right to conduct the suit by allowing
her to appoint counsel. The judge found that response unacceptable,
saying that it was not the job of the court to divine whether someone
who looked like a secular woman was in fact a nun, and that “if all the
nuns in England had come in like fashion, we should have let them
all appoint attorneys.” Margery’s attorney then pleaded that she was
indeed a laywoman, and so not to be barred from her action, because
prior to her religious profession she had married Roger Blaket, thus
rendering her vows of religion null and void because of pre-contract.
He would prove this by producing the testimony of the abbot of St.
Albans, who apparently could certify that the marriage took place
long before Margery’s entrance into religion. Attorney for the defense
countered by insisting that the court also needed a certificate from
the bishop of Lincoln, in whose diocese Burnham Abbey was situated,
clarifying the matter and time of Margery’s religious profession.
Allowing for time to secure this requisite evidence, the court
recessed. When it reconvened, however, Margery’s suit was no longer
66 “House of Austin Nuns: The Abbey of Burnham,” A History of the County

of Buckingham: Volume 1 (1905), pp. 382–384, British History Online, at
http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=40316 [accessed 25
July 2014]. Logan, Runaway Religious, 264.
67 Year Books of Edward II: 5 Edward II, A.D. 1312, ed. W. C. Bolland, Selden
Society 33 (London: Bernard Quaritch, 1916), xxxiv–xxxv, 211–214.
force and fear 73
tenable. With all parties and their attorneys present, letters patent
from John Dalderby, bishop of Lincoln, were read out. They con-
tained the bishop’s certification that Margery was a professed nun of
Burnham and that by reason of her apostasy and her assumption of
secular dress, she was now a publicly declared excommunicate. As
such, she would be shunned by all and clearly deemed incapable of
bringing any sort of action in a court of law. The case was dismissed.
In his introduction to the Year Book volume containing this
unique case, the editor laments its truncation by the action of Bishop
Dalderby. The bishop summarily excommunicated Margery, “making
it impossible for the Court any longer to recognize her or hear her
either in her own defence or in any appeal for reparation for wrongs
done to her by others, not even in any appeal against the Bishop’s
excommunication of her.”68 While this is true enough as regards
Margery’s common law action, it may be helpful to note that the
bishop’s certification came with a disclaimer: his sentence of excom-
munication was to be lifted if, upon inquest, Margery’s plea of prior
marriage proved to be true.69 Additionally, Dalderby’s action in this
case was not a maverick response, but one that reflected a recent and
important episcopal victory vis-à-vis the Crown. More about this vic-
tory in the next chapter, but suffice it to say here that in the Lenten
Parliament of 1300, the Crown had promised the bishops to consist-
ently allow objections to suits brought by alleged religious women,
and to remand the matter of religious profession to the local bishop
before proceeding further in the common law courts. If Margery
Hedsor had hoped for a speedy resolution to her law suit by coming to
court in the dress of a married woman, and so preempting the objec-
tion of apostasy by virtue of her attournment, she had miscalculated,
or at least mistimed her move. Given the hard-won victory of the
English bishops in 1300, we cannot fault John Dalderby for forcing
the issue of Margery’s alleged apostasy to the forefront, requiring that
it be resolved by ecclesiastical inquest before her property claim could
be pursued; we can, however, lament the fact that we no longer know
when, or if, that issue was ever resolved.
68 Ibid, xxxv.
69 Registers of the Bishops of Lincoln, Bishop John Dalderby, March 1300–
August 1320, Reg. III, folio 214v.
The runaways we have looked at in this chapter had, or claimed

to have had, grounds for nullification of their vows of monastic pro-
fession. Accordingly, they should have filed a petition to the papacy
for release from those vows and they should have done so while still
garbed as nuns and living within their community. Instead, these
women fled their monasteries without leave and by so doing risked
allegations of apostasy and the sentence of excommunication that
charge entailed. Once outside their monasteries, often assisted by men
who were, or wished to be, their husbands, many of them did request
official declaration that they had never been canonically professed
religious.70 In fact, the stories of these runaways have often surfaced
only because they subsequently petitioned for such decrees. And while
historians take a variety of approaches when using legal records as
sources for studying female agency at law, Cordelia Beattie’s observa-
tions seem to me particularly apposite.
The petitioning subject that we find in a Chancery bill is a

textual one but it gives us, in most cases, our only insight into
the women who brought their complaints to Chancery. By
understanding the process of petitioning Chancery we need not
choose utterly between the ‘textual’ and the ‘social’ or ‘lived.’ A
methodology that pays attention to this is revealing not only of
gender ideologies but also of women’s experiences of and inter-
actions with the law.71
If it is ill-advised to suggest that petitions for nullification faithfully

record the voices of the women for whom they were crafted, it is
equally cavalier to see them merely as formulaic process-specific con-
structs. The petitions referenced in this chapter reflect the input of
the petitioners themselves, and so afford us significant information
about their legal encounters.72 These encounters in turn raise several
intriguing issues, not the least of which is the extent to which men
were involved in them. Although fathers and brothers, along with
female relatives, were sometimes instrumental in forcing inconven-
70 I deal more with this and other sorts of collaboration in the Conclusion.
71 Beattie, “Your Oratrice,” 29.
72 This idea is well expressed by Goldberg, “Echoes, Whispers, Ventrilo-
quisms,” 41.
force and fear 75
ient heiresses and sisters into the cloister, husbands often assisted
them in petitioning for nullification of the vows that they had been
compelled to take. Magdelena Payerin clearly benefitted from the
expert advice and counsel of her husband, notary and scribe Friedrich
Heidenheimer, when engaged in her complicated and costly suppli-
cation process; without the assistance of her lover, the cleric Johannes
Zacz, the relentless machinations of her kin might surely have suc-
ceeded in keeping Ursula Schenkin de Erbach from freedom.
It is also suggestive that many a petitioner, like Georgine Cruseler
and Katherina of Truchsessen, filed petitions for the express purpose
of silencing those who contended that their marriages were invalid. So
too, some women had lived for years in secular society as alleged apos-
tates, filing petitions only after they had become mothers. Securing the
legitimacy of children might have been even more important at times
than silencing the calumny of neighbors.
We might also ask where the women in these cases met their future
helpmates/husbands, the fathers of their children? As Janet Burton
has observed for Yorkshire nunneries, the practice of monastic charity
and hospitality enjoined on nuns as well as monks had the potential
to increase encounters with laymen as well as secular women; bishops
sought to limit, but certainly not to eliminate, the practice.
The latter [contact with seculars] was very often the result of use
of nunneries for purposes such as hospitality, and injunctions
to nunneries to guard against seculars was often not an impli-
cation of abuse, but a case of prevention being better than cure.
When [Archbishop] Wickwane reminded the nuns of Nun
Appleton that “we by no means prohibit decent hospitality for
a day or night … so that no sin or scandal might arise,” he was
obviously worried about the effects which prolonged use of the
nunneries as centres of hospitality and the consequent influx of
secular visitors might have on the convent.73
Furthermore, in the later Middle Ages, monastic charity became an

increasingly compelling ideal, central in fact to the spirituality of
73 Janet E. Burton, The Yorkshire Nunneries in the Twelfth and Thirteenth

Centuries. Borthwick Papers 56 (York: Borthwick Institute, 1979), 32.
Cistercian nuns, increasing such opportunities for interaction.74 And

regardless of the order to which they belonged, the absolute depend-
ence of religious women on men who had been ordained priests to
provide cura monialilum – the care of nuns and their souls via cel-
ebration of Mass and administration of the sacraments – continued
to open the way for contact, warranted and otherwise, between the
sexes; chaplains, in fact, will figure prominently in some of the cases
that follow. Finally, financial as well as spiritual exigencies required
contact with laymen, at least by abbesses, prioresses, and obedien-
tiaries – monastic officeholders such as bursars and cellaresses.
The exceptionally well-documented case of Mary Felton, for
example, records the fact that she met her last husband and co-peti-
tioner, John Curson, when he came to the Minories to pay rents owed
to the abbess. This scenario would not have been at all uncommon in a
late medieval London convent. As Nancy Bradley Warren points out,
“London convents drew large portions of their income from money
rents for streets of houses and shops,” and by the later fourteenth cen-
tury all English nunneries derived the bulk of their incomes from the
rents of landed tenants.75 Economic developments such as these had
additional ramifications as well.
Grants of rights and privileges, such as the right to collect rents

or tithes, or the right to appoint a cleric to a local parish church,
increased the opportunities for legal squabbles geometrically.
The standard practice of ‘farming’ tithes and rents in return
for a fixed annual fee – a fee which did not always material-
ize – added further opportunity for litigation. And then there
was the overwhelmingly conditional and contingent nature of
lay patronage. For instance, a testator might bequeath the pro-
ceeds from property in which a surviving spouse possessed a life
interest, or order that his gift be paid out of the debts owed him,
74 See for example Anne E. Lester, Creating Cistercian Nuns (Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 2011), Chapter 4.
75 Nancy Bradley Warren, Spiritual Economies: Female Monasticism in
Later Medieval England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press,
2001), 59.
force and fear 77
leaving it up to the nuns he had endowed to successfully claim

those debts.76
In such a litigious environment, nuns not only needed steward and

notaries for their business transactions, they also needed lawyers.
Professionalization of the practice of law had made personal attention
to lawsuits by heads of houses, or the use of amateurs of any sort, be
they servants, benefactors, or fellow religious, downright unwise. By
1300, litigation had become a job for professional, largely universi-
ty-trained lawyers who, it goes without saying, were always men.
Given these and other possibilities for interaction, one thing is
clear: Women who would apostatize sometimes met the men who
would influence their lives (for better or worse) while still living
within the walls of their monasteries. In subsequent chapters we will
get additional insights into the question of where and under what
circumstances this might have occurred, but the answer will very
often continue to elude us. Routinely, papal and episcopal directives,
injunctions, and other documents of practice lack such details; some-
times we are left merely with a name. Who was that “certain man”
Robert Holland, for instance, who became the husband of Margaret
Prestwich?
We now turn our attention from alleged, to actual apostates, to
those who could adduce no evidence of force, minority, or prior mar-
riage that would invalidate their vows or status as religious. They pos-
sessed no grounds to file petitions for nullification, either before or
after taking flight from their monasteries, so that when they did so
they became apostates. Their motives for abandoning religious life are
often impossible to determine with certainty, and nearly as various
as the individuals themselves, but given the seriousness of the conse-
quences involved they were seldom frivolous. In the next two chapters
we examine some of the most common reasons for, or justifications
of (it is not always possible to distinguish between the two), female
apostasy. Taken together, they give us an idea of why the ‘sweet yolk’
of religion could become an unsupportable burden.
2011), 1–2.
3
Land, Lust, and Love
Unlike the women with whom we have just dealt, whose vows had
been coerced or otherwise technically invalidated, canonically pro-
fessed nuns had no grounds to file petitions for nullification of vows
and could not legally return to secular society. If a nun had freely,
even if unenthusiastically, pronounced her vows, she had few options
to alter her lot if she later became unhappy with it. She might request
a transfer to another community, but that course of action presup-
posed dissatisfaction with a specific house and not with the overall
constraints of religious life. Unlike her male counterparts, she could
not aspire to ordination and the beneficed status that it often carried,
nor could she enter university life.1 Yet the gulf that separated distaste
for, or even loathing of, religious life from the abandonment of it was
immense. For many apostate nuns that gulf would be bridged only
gradually, by incremental ‘adjustments’ to cloistered life. This was
particularly true for those whose apostasy stemmed from temptations
against the vows of poverty and chastity.
It suited the disaffected nun to strive to transform her environ-
ment into something akin to the one she would have enjoyed had she
remained in secular society. The peaked headdresses, gold combs,
slashed sleeves and pleated robes, adopted by nuns in imitation of
fashionable matrons, and so often railed against by episcopal synods
1 Supplications from England and Wales in the Registers of the Apostolic Pen-
itentiary 1410–1503, ed. Peter D. Clarke and Patrick N. R. Zutshi, 3 vols,
Canterbury and York Society 103, 104, 105 (Canterbury: Boydell Press for
the Henry Bradshaw Society, 2012), vol. 1, xxxii, gives examples of licenses
requested by regulars both for university study and to hold a benefice with
cure of souls.
land, lust, and love 79
and monastic visitors, attest to this effort.2 So too the keeping of

pets, relaxation of liturgical duties, and the acceptance of clandes-
tine gifts from, and visits with, outsiders, all of which eroded barri-
ers between the monastery and the larger world. Once those barriers
were sufficiently worn down, however, temptations of a more seri-
ous type presented themselves. Sexual liaisons begun within a mon-
astery for example, and the consequences of these clandestine unions,
often made escape look like the only option for a miscreant. So too,
incremental erosion of cloistered routine and departure from monas-
tic ideals acted as solvents to the equally binding, and scarcely less
appealing, vow of poverty. The desire for land, as much as for love,
could and did lead nuns into apostasy.
In the later Middle Ages, observance of the vow of poverty in com-
munities throughout Europe was neither strict nor uniform. In late
medieval Spain heritable chattels and even revenues from land were
allowed to the professed at times.3 Pronouncing that vow did, how-
ever, effectively prohibit fully professed regulars from inheriting land
or chattels. When there was much to gain, the motivation to leave
one’s habit behind and attempt to grasp that inherited wealth might
be compelling. And in the later Middle Ages many professed nuns
would have had very much to gain by doing so, since they came from
prominent and wealthy families.
In the late medieval German empire for example, up to 35 percent
of daughters from noble families became nuns – monastic entrance
fees (‘requested’ rather than demanded, after the Fourth Lateran
Council’s prohibition of the latter as simony) paled by comparison
to the cost of an aristocratic daughter’s dowry.4 And while affluent
non-nobles began to be accepted in many houses by the latter half
2 Eileen Power, Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275 to 1535 (New York: Biblo
and Tannen, 1922; 1964), 585–587 provides a good summary of some of the
consistent attempts to curb such excesses in England. Episcopal censures
issued after visitations are similarly found in continental sources for both
monks and nuns, and in more universal decrees such as CJC, Clem 3.10.1,
the decree of the Council of Vienne, Ne in agro dominico.
3 Elizabeth Lehfeldt, Religious Women in Golden Age Spain: The Permeable
Cloister (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 94–95.
4 Ludwig Schmugge and Atria A. Larson, Marriage on Trial: Late Medieval
German Couples at the Papal Court (Washington, DC: Catholic University
of America Press, 2012), 184–185.
of the fourteenth century, more exclusive communities continued to

exist. According to regulations issued in 1500, Rijnsburg Abbey car-
ried on admitting only those women who could identify noble ances-
tors on both paternal and maternal sides for at least four generations.5
The situation differed little elsewhere on the Continent. Bruce
Venarde observed that in French and English convents the very need
to collect entry fees, long after the Lateran Council’s ban, reflected
“that nunneries were becoming a preserve of the aristocracy and that
houses needed the income an entry gift from a noblewoman could
provide.”6 Listing the family names of the nuns who made up the
Venetian community of Corpus Domini in the late fourteenth and
early fifteenth centuries has been compared to reading “a roll call of
Venice’s ruling elite, resonant with wealth and glory.”7 Late medi-
eval French nunneries, like those studied by Anne Lester, attracted
well-to-do bourgeois women and the daughters of knights, while con-
tinuing to house aristocratic recruits, and far-flung Cistercian foun-
dations, such as Vreta and Alvastra in Sweden, and Santa Maria de las
Huelgas and San Quirce in Spain, were places of refuge for high nobil-
ity and even royalty.8 Even in the newer mendicant and Bridgettine
orders, life was still geared to women of some considerable wealth and
social standing. Isabelle, sister of King Louis IX of France, founded the

University Press, 2004), 31–36.
6 Bruce L. Venarde, Women’s Monasticism and Medieval Society: Nunneries
in France and England, 890–1215 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997),
174.
7 Daniel Bornstein, Life and Death in a Venetian Convent: The Chronicle
and Necrology of Corpus Domini, 1395–1436 (Chicago: University of Chi-
cago Press, 2000), 16.
8 Michel Parisse, Les Nonnes Au Moyen Age (Le Puy: C. Bonneton, 1983),
131–134. Anne E. Lester, Creating Cistercian Nuns (Ithaca: Cornell Univer-
sity Press, 2011). Constance Berman, The White Nuns Cistercian Abbeys
for Women in Medieval France (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 2018), 73–75. New Trends in Feminine Spirituality: The Holy Women
of Liège and their Impact, ed. Juliette Dor, Lesley Johnson, and Jocelyn
Wogan-Browne, Medieval Women 2 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1999), 165. Eliz-
abeth Lehfeldt, “Discipline, Vocation, and Patronage: Spanish Religious
Women in a Tridentine Microclimate,” Sixteenth Century Journal 30, no.
4 (Winter, 1999), 1009–1030.
elite Franciscan abbey of Longchamp outside of Paris, King Sancho

IV favored the earliest female Franciscan convent in Spain, and the
remarkable fifteenth-century expansion of the Bridgettines from
Scandinavia to Germany, Poland, the Netherlands and Italy was made
possible because foundations were financed by, and drew their mem-
bers from, the highest nobility.9
Although there was considerable regional variation in England,
English nunneries too housed the socially privileged. Traditional
Benedictine foundations like Easebourne, Romsey, Minchin Barrow
and Barking, remained the preserve of the well-born.10 The daughters
of knights and country gentlemen found homes in the more recently
established mendicant houses like the London Minories, Denny, and
Bruisyard, and the nuns in Henry V’s Bridgettine foundation of Syon
were almost exclusively aristocrats.11 Even convents like those in the
diocese of Norwich, which housed relatively few aristocratic nuns,
attracted both upper and lower gentry with wealth in estates or agri-
culture.12 A nun need not be an aristocrat to hail from a family that
possessed heritable properties, and it is this fact that concerns us here.
The prospect of reclaiming an inheritance, even if that did not denote
a vast estate, could lead one into apostasy.
9 Sean L. Field, Isabelle of France: Capetian Sanctity and Franciscan Iden-

tity in the Thirteenth Century. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame
Press, 2006). Elizabeth Lehfeldt, Religious Women in Golden Age Spain:
The Permeable Cloister. Women and Gender in the Early Modern World
(Aldershot, UK and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 20. Bridget Morris,
St. Birgitta of Sweden (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 1999), 160. Auke
Jelsma, “The Appreciation of Bridget of Sweden (1303–1373) in the 15th
Century,” in Women and Men in Spiritual Culture XIV–XVII Centuries,
ed. E. Schulte van Kessel (The Hague: Netherlands Government Publica-
tions Office, 1986), 163–175.
10 Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 4.
2011), 22–23.
12 Marilyn Oliva, The Convent and the Community in Late Medieval England
Female Monasteries in the Diocese of Norwich, 1350–1540 (Woodbridge,
UK: Boydell Press, 1998), 53–61, identifies five social groups to which nuns
in the diocese of Norwich, 1350–1540 belonged, parish gentry being at one
end of the spectrum and aristocrats, a tiny percentage of the whole, at the
other.
That prospect appears to have catalyzed even some of the women

in the previous chapter, women who, though capable of seeking legal
redress for their forced profession, were reluctant to do so. Magdelena
Payerin of Constance seemed resigned to her circumstances until
receiving news that she had been a victim of a scheme to disinherit
her. This motivated Magdelena to reclaim her secular status for the
sake of a family fortune. And so too, even validly professed, but dis-
gruntled nuns might grasp at the potential for independence repre-
sented by a sizeable inheritance.
Judging from a complaint to the Crown lodged by the bishops at
the Lenten Parliament of 1300, that certainly seems to have been the
case in England. On that occasion the bishops demanded that the king
address the manner in which petitions from apostate nuns were being
handled in the common law courts. They alleged that both expressly
and tacitly professed nuns (moniales vere vel interpretative professe)
who were legally prohibited from owning or suing for possession of
property had been casting off their religious habits, leaving their mon-
asteries, donning secular clothes, and claiming inheritances in the
king’s courts. Furthermore, these courts were admitting the claims “to
the peril of souls and the disadvantage of lawful heirs.”13 The Crown
promised a speedy and firm remedy to this grievance: all exceptions
(legal objections lodged in court) based upon religious profession were
to be admitted and the issue submitted to the local ecclesiastical ordi-
nary for a ruling before any further common law action commenced.
Mention in the complaint of ‘donning secular clothes’ puts us in
mind of Margery Hedsor’s ill-timed bid for the right to file a writ in
the king’s court; it also underscores the distinctive jurisdictional divi-
sion in the common law that makes late medieval England an espe-
cially fertile ground for investigating cases of apostasy motivated by
the desire to inherit landed wealth. As we already know, common law
reserved all landed disputes to the Crown, making for exacting docu-
mentation of court activity, and that after 1300 that activity included
Chancery writs remanding determination of religious status to the
ecclesiastical forum before proceeding to trial – again, as with Margery
13 F. M. Powicke and C. R. Cheney, Councils & Synods: With Other Docu-

ments Relating to the English Church, 2 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1964), 2:1215. F. Donald Logan, Runaway Religious in Medieval England, c.
1240–1540 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 22.
Hedsor. Indeed, writs were sometimes executed and returned by local

bishops even when apostasy was not at issue. The stakes in any inher-
itance battle could be high. Consequently, a nun’s legal incapacity to
inherit any portion of family wealth would be a crucial fact for legiti-
mate heirs to establish.
For example, when Christina Gascelyn’s father Geoffrey died
in 1375, he left behind the manor of Great Chiverel along with sev-
eral other properties in the same county. Christina’s younger sister
inherited them all but not before Chancery made absolutely sure
that Christina had forfeited her right to inherit by virtue of religious
profession. A certificate of the bishop of Bath and Wells, sent into
Chancery at the king’s command, confirmed “that Christina the elder
has entered the order of nuns in Minchin Barrow priory and has there
taken the habit of religion, being therein professed at the age of four-
teen and upwards, and has there publicly worn the habit of nuns pro-
fessed for five years, and that she has left no heir of her body begotten
before such entry into religion.”14 In this case, episcopal confirmation
of religious status had been requested prior to eliminating Christina
as co-heir, although there is no evidence that she begrudged her sister
the inheritance or that she had tried in any way to undermine the
younger woman’s claim.
More often bishops were only asked to confirm a woman’s reli-
gious status when disputants in a battle over inheritance demanded
it to counter the actions of a would-be heir. Was the claimant’s status
dubious; that is, was she indeed a laywoman or an apostate nun posing
as one? Apparently, Joyce Hywyssh was one of the latter. A certificate
by Robert Braybroke bishop of London, issued in 1384 for instance,
confirms the fact that Joyce Hywyssh was a validly professed nun of St.
Helen’s, Bishopsgate, London.15 The certification had been required
because of a common law contest in which Joyce was one of the lit-
igants. The bishop’s register for that year contains a writ from the
Crown directing the bishop to inquire into the status of Joyce, plain-
tiff in two cases pending in the Court of Common Pleas.16 And in this
14 CCR 1374–1377, 132.

15 E 135/6/71.
16 Registers of the Bishops of London, 1304–1660, Episcopal Registers Pt. 5
(Brighton: Harvester Press Microform Publications, 1984), Register of Rob-
ert Braybroke 1381–1404, 2:403.
instance, both are fully, and fortuitously, reported in the Year Books
of Richard II.17
Joyce entered both her claims in the Court of Common Pleas
via John Tregos, her guardian. The first alleged that John Ude and
John Tregorrek had unlawfully seized a portion of land in Porthpere,
Cornwall that rightfully belonged to her as the daughter of William
de Hywyssh. Recently deceased, William had been the sole remaining
heir of Richard de Hywyssh, knight. The defendants contested Joyce’s
claim not on the facts of the case but on the grounds that Joyce was
a professed nun and so incapable of asserting any right to an inher-
itance. In the second petition, entered the same day, Joyce pleaded
for restitution of an outstanding debt and attendant damages for
non-payment, in the amount of £100. She alleged that on 7 January
of the previous year she had loaned John Andrew, a London clerk,
£20 on condition that he repay the sum in two installments. He had
refused to do so despite repeated requests. The promissory note out-
lining the terms of repayment, signed by both parties, and duly wit-
nessed, was then produced for the court. Like the defendants in the
first case, Andrew argued that Joyce could not bring this action for
repayment of a debt as she was a professed nun.
Joyce responded in both instances saying that she should not be
barred from her actions by the objection of religious profession since
she was a secular person and not a nun, and that she was prepared to
verify that fact for the court as required. The bishop of London was
ordered to inquire into the issue of alleged profession and return the
results of his inquiry by Hilary term, a day given to all parties to come
to court to hear them. Bishop Robert’s certification, returned with
great rapidity, was read on that day in court; it contained a curious
addendum.
Enclosed is the royal writ with other documents which we

recently received with the appropriate respect, by the force
of which writ, having called before us all those who shold be
called, we have made diligent inquiry in lawful manner into
the truth of the matter upon the premises, all and singular con-
tained in the said writ according to the order and tenor of the
17 Year Books of Richard II: 8–10 Richard II (1385–1387), ed. L. C. Hector and
Michael E. Hager, Ames 77 (Cambridge, MA, 1987), 77–80.
said writ through which inquiry we have clearly discovered that

the said Joyce was and is a professed nun in the conventual
church of the house of nuns of the Holy Cross and St. Helen of
the Benedictine order within Bishopsgate in our city of London,
and in order to reinforce belief in the evidence as to what has
occurred, on 9 October in the year of our Lord 1384 by the
authority entrusted to us in this respect we veiled the said Joyce
with the holy veil in the said conventual church, gave our bless-
ing, and received her profession as the order of law required.
These matters all and singular we cause to be made known
to you all and to each of you and we certify by our present
letters, open and close, confirmed by our seal. Dated at our
manor of Wickham on the 29th day of said month of October
in the aforesaid year of our Lord [1384] and the 3rd year of our
consecration.18
When the parties to these suits were then asked whether they had any
evidence that would contradict the said certification and inquisition
they answered in the negative. Consequently, the cases were both
dismissed, Joyce being fined for her false claim against John Andrew.
Why did Joyce Hywyssh enter these common law contests for land
and money, declaring herself a secular person, if she could so easily
be proven to be a professed nun? And if proof of that status had really
been as cogent and easily obtainable as the bishop of London averred
in his certification, why did he feel it necessary to veil her and receive
her promise of profession himself in October 1384? We can assume
that Joyce had merely made tacit profession before that formal epis-
copal reception; we know that subsequent to it she was still unrec-
onciled to her status. In October 1388, Joyce Hywyssh was reported
as having apostatized from Bishopsgate and attempted marriage.19
Unfortunately she then vanishes from the record.
Tacit rather than expressed profession was also an issue in the case
of two sisters, Grace and Agnes Nowers. When their brother Amery
[Almaricus; Emery], son and heir of the knight John Nowers, died
18 E 135/6/71.
19 Logan, Runaway Religious, 260. The ‘Joyce’ listed is indeed the same, but I
have been unable to obtain a copy of the Royal Commission report Logan
cites in the footnote and hence to follow the saga any further.
in in 1409, Grace and Agnes were listed as his heirs.20 They stood to
gain both Gothurst and Golding manors in Buckinghamshire as a
consequence, and apparently had attempted to make good that claim
by asserting it as laywomen.21 Confirmation of their religious status
was, however, swift in coming. A post mortem inquisition of the same
year lists them as “Grace, sister of Amery Nowers, nun of St. Giles in
the Wood, Flamstead, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire; Agnes, sister
and heir of Amery Nowers, professed in the same abbey at the same
time as her sister Grace.”22 And the register of the bishop of Lincoln at
the time, Philip Repingdon, sheds more light on the maneuvers that
quashed their attempts to rejoin secular, landed, society.
On 18 April 1409, the bishop commissioned his suffragan, Richard
of Dromore, to receive the express profession of a number of nuns,
who had “already and for some years been living as regulars;” among
them were Agnes and Grace.23 As Repingdon required detailed reports
from his episcopal helpers to ascertain whether the delegated duties
had been carried out, Bishop Richard noted that he had received their
solemn profession of vows at Flamstead Priory on 21 April, in the
presence of William Burton, canon of London, and other witnesses. In
addition, he reported that his action had been certified by the notary
public, Thomas Hyll, and that all the nuns professed that day had been
well above the age of consent, had successfully passed their proba-
tionary year in their respective convents, and had freely given their
consent to his formal veiling.24 Would that Bishop Richard’s note had
revealed something about what motivated the Nower sisters to give
that consent.
So far, we have dealt with cases in which professed nuns made up
their minds to risk apostasy for the chance to gain an inheritance and
then proceeded freely, if not advisedly. Yet in this, as in the matter of
profession itself, compulsion was not unheard of. Greed might moti-
vate a man to force a professed nun to abandon monastic life and lay
20 CIPM 3:323.
21 C 269/9/24. Logan, Runaway Religious, 260.
22 C 137/73/43.
23 The Register of Bishop Philip Repingdon, 1405–1419, ed. Margaret Archer,
The Publications of the Lincoln Record Society 57, 58, 74 (Hereford:
Printed for the Lincoln Record Society by the Hereford Times Ltd, 1982),
1:146.
24 Register of Bishop Philip Repingdon, 1405–1419, 1:xxiv–xxv.
claim to an inheritance by posing as his wife. What a purported hus-

band had to gain with such a maneuver might be obvious; what is not
always apparent is the fact that force had been employed in the first
place.25
When mention is first made of Maud Huntercombe “sister and
heir of Elizabeth daughter of John Huntercombe” for instance, it is
a straightforward reference to her as a blood relative claiming her
due. In June 1391, she was allowed to do homage to the Crown for
lands held by her childless deceased sister, thereby establishing her-
self as lawful heir.26 On 9 July, however, Bishop John Buckingham of
Lincoln received a writ ordering him to inquire into Maud’s alleged
religious status, and just a day later, long before any inquiry could
have been begun much less concluded, the abbess of Burnham Abbey,
Buckinghamshire, signified Maud for arrest as an apostate nun.27
Stays of execution on both writs were ordered, but soon the process
of inquiry began again, with the matter coming before Parliament via
petition.28 That petition was forwarded to the Chancery and it is the
Chancery suit, filed by Elizabeth’s three aunts (the rightful heirs) and
their husbands, that finally gives us a clearer picture of what was going
on in this case.29
The suit alleged that one Giles Frensh, a yeoman in the service
of the king and a resident of the parish of Burnham, had, with his
henchmen, “by force of arms [vi et armis], ravished and carried away
[rapuerunt et abduxerunt]” the said Maud, aged twenty-four and a
professed Augustinian nun of Burnham Abbey. The petitioners said
that he had done so in order to claim the two-thirds of Huntercombe
manor left by the death of Maud’s sister, Elizabeth. Giles, represented
by his attorney, responded to these charges by stating that Maud was
Elizabeth’s rightful heir whom he had married, that she was a secular
25 Logan, Runaway Religious, 265. For example, Logan states that Maud
Huntercombe, whose case follows here, left to claim an inheritance,
but does not mention the circumstances of that apparently involuntary
departure.
26 CCR 1389–1392, 363.
27 C 81/1789/31. A. K. MacHardy, Royal Writs Addressed to John Buckingham,
Bishop of Lincoln: 1363–1398. Lincoln Register 12B: A Calendar, The Canter-
bury and York Society 86 (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 1997), xx–xxi.
28 SC 8/97/4804.
29 CCR 1392–1396, 70–71.
woman and never a professed nun. The petitioners, in turn, denied

this, saying that Maud had entered the religious life and had been a
professed nun for a full seven years before her sister’s death.
Since the matter of Maud’s religious status was in question, the suit
was not concluded until 1393 when Bishop John Buckingham returned
his certification.
Having made diligent enquiry, at great trouble and expense,

about the truth of the matter we find that Maud Huntercombe,
sister of the late Elizabeth who was the wife of Robert de
Cherlton formerly justice of the Bench entered into a religious
house of nuns of the order of St. Augustine of Burnham at the
age of discretion, and is legitimately a member of that order,
and Maud is a professed nun and was for a long time before the
death of Elizabeth wife of Robert Cherlton.30
A writ to the sheriff of Buckingham, issued a few months later,

restored the claimants to their rightful inheritance, and Maud to reli-
gious life. Maud, unlike most apostate nuns, might have welcomed
this fate – if, that is, she had in fact been sexually assaulted and bru-
tally carried off against her will by Giles.
It seems likely, given the facts subsequent to her abduction, that
Maud Huntercombe had been coerced into apostasy and that she had
then posed as a married laywoman at the behest of her abductor, who
could benefit from her inheritance. But were we to rely exclusively
upon the wording used in the Chancery petition filed by her aunts, we
could not draw even this conclusion with confidence. Lacking further
clarification by Maud herself, or additional evidence from witness tes-
timony, her raptus – ravishment – might just as easily have denoted
voluntary abandonment of her vows as sexual violence and forceful
seizure. In her examination of over one thousand allegations of rav-
ishment in the legal records of late medieval England, Caroline Dunn
highlights the ambiguity of this term, which was used by scribes and
lawmakers to mean both rape (sexual assault) and abduction, forced
or consensual. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it became
part of the formula to initiate a case in civil and criminal courts.
30 MacHardy, Royal Writs, 167.

In civil lawsuits the aggrieved party began by purchasing a writ

from the royal Chancery that allowed the case to proceed. The
standardized formula of the writ, which stated that a named
offender had “seized and abducted” (rapuit et abduxit) a wife or
a ward, was recorded by scribes in the legal record, and hence
the language of the writ leads directly to the preponderance of
the “rapuit et abduxit” phrase in complaints.31
To complicate matters further, despite the characterization of a

woman’s seizure as being “by force of arms” (vi et armis) this formu-
laic phrase found in Chancery writs envelopes as much circumstan-
tial variation as that of the “force and fear” (vim et metum) formula
used in the petitions for nullification treated in the preceding chapter
– use of the phrase in a writ merely allowed that an abduction alle-
gation could be heard before royal justices. “Even though civil writs
allege that offences occurred vi et armis, the allegation was part of the
formula, and used in cases when a woman clearly wished to depart
from her husband’s household, even if no force was used at all.”32
In cases involving the abduction of nuns, the ‘brides of Christ,’
prospects for collusion appear to have been accentuated, and we
cannot gainsay Donald Logan’s findings.
When one speaks of the abduction of nuns, the word “abduc-

tion” here does not necessarily imply that the nuns in question
were snatched from their nunneries against their wishes: the
word has the meaning merely of “taking away” and is neutral
regarding consent. In fact, if the nun was accomplice to the
abduction, she was clearly apostate.33
Even if an escape plan was hatched by someone other than the apos-
tate herself, collusion can seldom be entirely excluded from the
equation. For example, the conduct of Joan Bruys after an alleged
31 Caroline Dunn, Stolen Women in Medieval England: Rape, Abduction, and

Adultery, 1100–1500 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2012),
5.
32 Dunn, Stolen Women, 51.
abduction suggests that she had been more than willing to leave her
community of Nuneaton Priory far behind.
It all began – or rather, the facts of Joan’s past began to emerge –
when Hugh Wesenham and his wife Agnes laid claim (in February
1359) to lands left by Agnes’s brother Bernard, who had died in
infancy.34 Bernard had inherited all the lands that their father, John
Bruys, had held as tenant in chief, and when Agnes stated that she
was Bernard’s sole heir and of legal age (she was nineteen), the couple
was permitted to swear fealty for all those lands. Further inquisitions
into the death of John, however, disclosed that Agnes had lied about
being sole heir. Joan, wife of Nicholas Grene, aged seventeen, and her
two older sisters, Elizabeth and Ellen, were also daughters of John
Bruys and therefore heirs apparent as well. Consequently, Bernard’s
lands were taken back by the Crown and yet another inquisition con-
ducted. Since that inquiry disclosed that Elizabeth and Ellen had been
professed nuns at the Gilbertine priory of Bolington [Bullington;
Bolynton], for the last seven years, Hugh and Agnes were notified to
appear in Chancery to show cause why Bernard’s lands should not be
divided into two parts, one going to them and the other to Joan and
Nicholas Grene.
A wardship dispute (which need not concern us save as evidence
of the litigious penchant of both parties in this case) next ensued, and
just as it was concluded Hugh and Agnes tried another approach. They
now claimed that Joan and Nicholas could not inherit any portion of
Bernard’s lands, since at the age of eleven Joan Bruys had entered the
priory of Nuneaton, Warwickshire. They swore that she had stayed
there until she was over sixteen and since she had worn the habit of
a nun for more than a year after her twelfth birthday, she was clearly
professed according to the rule of this house – a house that as a cell of
the monastery of Fontevrault in Normandy was exempt from all but
papal jurisdiction.
Joan, together with Nicholas Grene, countered this claim of tacit
religious profession with evidence that allows us to see something
of the couple’s long-term relationship. They swore that on an ear-
lier occasion (1358) when they had sued a certain Robert Baldewyn
(accusing him of taking goods and chattels of Joan’s valued at £20),
34 CIPM 1352–1361, 383–385. The case is more fully described in CCR 1354–
1360, 667–670.
the defendant had countered by lodging the same exception of reli-

gious profession. Like Hugh and Agnes now, he too had claimed that
Joan Bruys could not sue because she was a professed nun and he had
even “pretended to verify this” claim. Indeed, Grene might have had
recourse for that verification to the bishop of Lincoln, since there is
mention in a memo of Bishop Gynewell (1347–1362) that Joan Bruys,
nun of Nuneaton, was abducted by Nicholas Grene and that they
had contracted a species of marriage in his diocese where the facts
of the case were unknown.35 In any case, when “on that earlier occa-
sion” Joan and Nicholas denied the apostasy assertion, the bishop of
Coventry and Lichfield had been ordered to inquire further into the
matter. The bishop had then returned a certificate stating that Joan
was not, and had never been, professed at Nuneaton.
Joan and Nicholas now offered this 1358 episcopal certificate,
which had, not incidentally, brought the couple victory in their case
against Robert Baldewyn, to substantiate Joan’s right to inherit.
They also challenged Hugh and Agnes to gainsay that certification.
Hugh and Agnes, or rather their attorneys, obliged; they did try to
undermine the bishop’s certification by claiming that the bishop of
Coventry and Lichfield did not have jurisdiction over an exempt
monastery like Nuneaton. But after taking that argument too into
consideration, the Chancery justices found no reason to exclude Joan
and Nicholas Grene from their half of the inheritance. Once again,
the Grenes, if I might refer to them as such, had won their case. And if
Joan Bruys had technically been a sixteen-year-old nun, and then an
apostate because of her abduction, she comes into clear focus for the
historian only as a married woman, and quite the redoubtable half of
the spousal team.
The prospect of inheriting great wealth by renouncing one’s reli-
gious status was a compelling lure for some, but romantic love, lust, or
a combination of both, motivated far more professed nuns to become
apostates. As noted earlier, the steady, sustained erosion of monastic
discipline in some communities could pave the way. Carnal tempta-
tions made inroads because a nun had already disregarded barriers
35 Postmodum se in nostram diocesim divertentes matrimonium de facto in

eadem nostra diocese scienter invicem contraxerunt et incestum ibidem
commiserunt et in ea cohabitant indies vir et uxor. Power, Medieval Eng-
lish Nunneries, 441 n. 1.
between the monastery and the larger world – by receiving clandes-

tine gifts and visits from outside admirers, or by lingering ‘after hours’
in the presence of a monastery chaplain. And in many cases, the con-
sequences of an illicit liaison could, and did, tip the balance in favor
of apostasy. In relatively few of these cases, however, do we learn any-
thing about the circumstances surrounding a nun’s actions.
The language of writs for the return of these apostates, episcopal
mandates and Penitentiary dispensations, is formulaic and repeti-
tive; lapsed nuns are ‘deceived by the allurements of the frail flesh’
and wandering ‘in great peril of soul;’ if their lovers are cited at all,
they remain mere names.36 Since the particularly edifying nature of a
penitent’s return, or the protracted litigation involved in dealing with
recidivists, could result in more substantially documented cases, we
will often encounter nuns and their lovers again in subsequent chap-
ters. But here I will treat a few cases that illustrate the norm by being
exceptional; in one case, unique.
Episcopal visits to nunneries involved, among other things, ques-
tioning individual members of a community regarding mortality and
the general running of the house. When recorded depositions are
preserved, as is the case in Bishop Story’s visit to Easebourne Priory,
Sussex in 1478, a reasonably detailed picture of an apostate’s circum-
stances can be pieced together.37 An aristocratic community, poorly
endowed from its mid-thirteenth-century foundation, the nunnery
had been in debt and badly run for some years.38 When Edward
Story became bishop of Chichester in 1478, he heard reports of an
ever-worsening situation there and resolved to remove the prioress,
Agnes Tauke, if his visit should confirm them; it did.
36 S. J. Chadwick, “Kirklees Priory,” The Yorkshire Archaeological Journal 16

(1902), 350–354. This series of extracts from episcopal registers is a good
indication of the formulaic wording found in continental as well as Eng-
lish sources.
37 William Henry Blaauw, Episcopal Visitations of the Benedictine Nunnery
of Easebourne (London: John Russell Smith, 1857), 16–19. Power, Medieval
English Nunneries, 453–454. Logan, Runaway Religious, 265–266. Dunn,
Stolen Women, 122.
38 “Houses of Augustinian Nuns: Priory of Easebourne,” in A History of the
County of Sussex, vol. 2, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1973), 84–85,
at https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/sussex/vol2/pp84-85 [accessed 3
June 2015].
Agnes was the first to be summoned before the bishop’s commis-

sioners and in her sworn testimony reported that Johanna Portsmouth
and Philippa King, professed nuns of the house but “not of good con-
versation or disposition, had withdrawn from the said priory for their
health without a license, and are so abroad in apostasy at present, but
in what place she knows not, as she says.” With the testimony of the
next nun, Mailda Astom, more details emerge. She averred that John
Smyth, chaplain, and N. Style, bond-servant to Lord Arundel, and a
married man, had “great familiarity with the said priory, as well as
elsewhere, with the said Johanna Portsmouth and Philippa King,”
although Mailda was uncertain about whether the men had abducted
the nuns or not.
The next deponent, Johanna Crackelynge, however, was quite cer-
tain that the two men had “caused the said Johanna and Philippa to
withdraw from the said priory and apostatize, and one of her fellow
nuns, Johanna Stevyn, added that “the withdrawal and ruin of the
Ladies Johanna and Philippa might be attributed to their having had,
each of them, long before their withdrawal, children, or a child.”
Another nun testified that John Smyth “much frequented the priory,
so that during some weeks he passed the night, and lay within the
priory or monastery every night.” She added that she thought him
the cause of Joan’s ruin and a corrupter of Philippa, to whom he gave
many gifts.
Finally, it emerged that another man, a purported religious no
less, had aided and abetted the apostasy of these two nuns. Brother
William Cotnall publicly confessed that he had used the seal of the
convent to seal a quittance for John Smyth, protecting him from any
legal action the community might take against him (including any
about the house jewels, which Smyth absconded with as well). Cotnall
also admitted that he had signed and sealed a license for Johanna
Portsmouth to leave the priory, and that he had had sexual relations
with Philippa King before her own departure.
It would be difficult to ignore just how significantly the ‘adjust-
ments’ to monastic discipline alluded to at the beginning of this chap-
ter had here been allowed to multiply until virtually nothing of that
discipline remained, at least for these two apostates. And while the
case of Easebourne is sensational, it is not the only instance of apos-
tasy occasioned by weak or demoralized leadership. As the bishop
of Chichester and his confreres well knew, when an entire commu-
nity lived a disordered life, under lax rule, this situation was likely
to repeat itself. Relatively lax regulations regarding the admission
not only of clergy but also of laymen into cloister confines tempted
fate in a Milanese convent of Poor Clares. In 1476 a professed nun,
known only as Battistina, petitioned the Papal Penitentiary for abso-
lution both from censures incurred by her violations of the vow of
chastity and from the sentence of excommunication that she had ulti-
mately incurred by her apostasy.39 Battistina had slept with a Milanese
layman, Giovannangelo Mantegazza, who convinced her to leave her
convent and come home with him. She did so and lived with him for
some time and subsequently bore children. She now wanted to return
to religion, although in another Poor Clare convent in Tortona, and
sought absolution.
Callow youth, as opposed to lax administration, accounts for a
more unusual case of apostasy. Margareta Bartenbechin, a runaway
Dominican tertiary from the diocese of Constance, made a poignant
plea to the Papal Penitentiary in 1481.40 Years ago she had ‘carelessly’
thrown off the habit of her order and left the tertiary community
where she had been professed as a simple, unveiled sister (soror sim-
plex non velata). She then lived with, and shared the bed of, a certain
secular cleric by whom she had children. Now, having had a change of
heart, repenting fully and promising to emend her life, she petitioned
the Penitentiary for a special dispensation. She begged for full absolu-
tion from the sin of apostasy and the sentence of excommunication it
brought with it, as well as the right to remain in the world in order to
care for her children as only a mother could – in the words of the peti-
tion, “to rear them at her breasts and with her own hands” (mammillis
et manibus propriis enutrire). Given the terms of her petition, the fact
that it was granted in full is remarkable.
While the ruling in this instance shows admirable clemency
toward children who might otherwise have suffered on account of
their mother’s indiscretion, it is definitely not typical, even for the
papacy. The discovery that one was with child might trigger apostasy,
and the death of a child might spur an apostate to repentance – as with
39 Filippo Tamburini, Santi E Peccatori: Confessioni E Suppliche Dai Regis-

tri Della Penitenzieria Dell’Archivio Segreto Vaticano (1451–1586), “Il Ses-
tante” (Milan: Istituto di propaganda libraria, 1995), 151–153.
40 RPG VI, 3139.
the recidivist Sophie of Brunswick, whom we shall meet in a subse-

quent chapter – but the fact of apostasy was not altered in the least by
motherhood. Becoming a mother while living as a runaway nun did
not undercut the canonical requirement to leave the world wantonly
entered and return to religious life. Petitions to the Penitentiary made
at roughly the same time as Margareta’s provide ample evidence of
this fact. Barbara Kespenbach, a Cistercian nun from the diocese of
Constance (1456), Dorothea Biczlin, Benedictine nun from Augusburg
(1457), Margaretha Horim, from the Augustinian monastery of St.
Katherine in the diocese of Constance (1456), Margarita Homoden,
an Augustinian nun from Mainz (1456), and Margarita Gorne, also
from Augusburg (1463), had all borne children as apostates and yet
in all cases their petitions for absolution were contingent on return
to their original monasteries or to another receptive community.41
Arrangements were surely made for the children’s upbringing in these
instances, but they were also, surely, left behind.42
How then do we account for Margareta Bartenbechin’s special dis-
pensation, which allowed her to expunge her sin of apostasy (if indeed
it was apostasy) and yet still remain in secular society to raise her chil-
dren? The answer hinges less on the special circumstances of this peti-
tioner than on the maddeningly amorphous nature of her status as a
soror simplex non velata domus seu congregationis in Stetten Constant
dioc. ordo tertia frater predicatorum. We will have more to say about
the vagaries of this status, and that of pious women in other quasi-re-
ligious communities, in the Conclusion; it is an issue pertinent to the
question of why a women might have left her house without permis-
sion in the first place. A few particulars, however, can help us come to
terms with Margareta’s case.
Dominican tertiaries, like their Franciscan counterparts came
into existence as congeries of devout laity who lived chastely and in
common. However, bound by no formal monastic vows, members
were able to leave their communities without incurring the charge of
apostasy or suffering the concomitant penalty of excommunication.
But, as Maiju Lehmijoki-Gardner notes, by the later fifteenth century
there was not only an increased tendency to treat tertiary communities
41 RPG III, 299, 433, 218, 87. RPG IV, 1633.

42 Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 450–451, gives a good summary of
how children of nuns might be dealt with.
as monastic institutions, but options for enclosure were also extended

to congregations of female tertiaries that further blurred juridical lines
between these religious women and professed nuns.43 Throughout the
Middle Ages and well into the modern era in fact, the status of the
Third Order monasteries was anything but uniform.
Some communities took religious vows, others did not; some

were incorporated into the Order and were under the jurisdic-
tion of the master general, others remained under their bishop
… At times the masters general issued directives for Third
Order communities. Salvo Cassetta ruled in 1482 that sisters
might not return to the world and marry. In 1491 Joachim
Torriani promulgated ordinances for German tertiaries living
in community, regulating their habit, the reception of candi-
dates, and their work. The 1498 general chapter exhorted third
Order communities wanting to live a more regular life to follow
the Rule of Third-Order enclosed communities.44
In Margareta Bartenbechin’s case there was more than a little ambi-

guity about her status as an apostate in the full sense of the term. First,
she had run away from a community of tertiaries and not from a
Dominican nunnery. Second, she had made her profession there, but
only as soror simplex non velata. Among Dominican nuns, a similar
distinction was drawn between conversae and choir nuns and it was
a difference that had juridical consequences. In a constitution issued
in July 1480 for instance, Pope Sixtus IV had made it clear that even if
a woman who entered and professed as a simple illiterate sister (con-
versa) had subsequently learned to read, she would not be able to join
the ranks of white-habited and veiled choir nuns, without express
papal license.45 Margareta’s children seem to have benefitted both
from their mother’s humble status while within her community of
tertiaries, and the residual resistance, at least at the highest levels, to
43 Maiju Lehmijoki-Gardner, Worldly Saints (Helsinki: Suomen Historial-

linen Seura, 1999), 146–154.
44 William Hinnebusch, The History of the Dominican Order (New York:
Alba House, 1966), 403–04.
45 BOP 3:590–591.
regarding her departure from that community as apostasy in the strict

sense of the term.
There was no ambiguity about the status of the apostate in our
next case, but there was resistance and of a sort that led a belea-
guered monastic superior to have recourse to the pope, not once, but
on two separate occasions.46 In June 1369, Urban V commissioned
the archbishop of Benevento to resolve the hotly contested issue of
Francisca Mangiaserpe’s alleged apostasy and her subsequent mar-
riage. According to the petition filed by the abbess, Francisca had
been a professed nun in the Benedictine monastery of St. Anthony of
Eboli, in the diocese of Salerno, for twenty-five years before Marinus
Buczutus, a citizen of Naples who had been staying nearby, came to
the convent. Under cover of night and with the aid of a forged key,
he led Francisca willingly and with her consent (volentem et consenti-
entem) from the monastery to his own home. A short time later, the
couple publicly pronounced marriage vows, and consummated their
union. Because of this notorious action, the archbishop of Salerno,
to whom the abbess and convent had recourse, placed the pair under
sentence of excommunication.
A definitive judgment about the case was now needed, but since
the abbess was convinced that it could not be handed down impar-
tially, or even safely, inside the city of Salerno, she appealed to the
pope for a change of venue. The abbot of the monastery of S. Marie
de Capella in Naples was therefore charged to bring the parties before
him, but after several exchanges between the syndic, the agent acting
for the abbess, and Marinus and Francisca, some of Marinus’ power-
ful relatives intimidated that syndic with threats of violence. Even the
abbot commissioned to hear the case was pressured into declaring the
archbishop of Salerno’s sentence of excommunication invalid, admit-
ting of no further actions on his part.
Responding to the abbess who styled herself, and in fact appears
to have been, ‘defenseless,’ Urban V issued his mandate to an offi-
cial suitably removed from the immediate vicinity. The archbishop of
Benevento was ordered to duly investigate the entire matter and if he

Siècle (Rome: Ecole français de Rome, 1982), # 24637.
found that Francisca had indeed made monastic profession, tacitly or

expressly, he was to compel her return to the monastery and to declare
her marriage to Marinus null and void. We can only speculate about
the results of that order, even if the archbishop managed to fulfill it
and even if Francisca was found to be an apostate. For the protections
afforded by powerful friends and influential patrons could be remark-
able deterrents to effective legal censure in late medieval Italian cities;
when deployed by the great, they could insulate couples whose dubi-
ous unions might have otherwise been censured or dissolved. Our
final case, involving a famous pair, vividly illustrates this fact.
In outline at least, their story is far from unique: After their father’s
death, a greedy brother sends a young Florentine woman and her
sister to an Augustinian monastery. The young woman goes on to
profess her vows but is then seduced by a chaplain of the monastery,
becomes pregnant, and runs away to live with her lover. Within three
years she returns to her community and renews her vows, but then
leaves again to join her lover, with whom she has another child. This
time she never returns. The young apostate in this story is Lucrezia di
Francesco Buti (b. 1433) and if she became arguably the most famous
apostate nun in fifteenth-century Italy, it was not so much because of
what she did, but because of whom she did it with.47
Her lover was the artist, Fra Filippo Lippi (1406–1469), whose mon-
umental tomb, commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici, bears an equally
grandiose paean to his memory: “All know the wondrous beauty of
my skill. My touch gave life to lifeless paint, and long deceived the
mind to think the forms would speak. Nature herself, as I revealed her,
expressed wonder that I could match her arts.”48 Testifying to the rev-
erence that painters of Lippi’s talent were afforded in fifteenth-century
Italy, this epitaph goes far to explain the ways in which this wayward
Carmelite friar managed to capture, and to keep, the love of his mis-
tress in clear violation of the vows of both parties. The fact that both
Filippo and his son, Filippino, were artists, gives us the unprecedented
opportunity to see the faces, or at least the likenesses, of the protago-
nists in this sensational romance. That romance was first recorded by
47 Catherine Lawless, “Women on the Margins: The ‘Beloved’ and the ‘Mis-
tress’ in Renaissance Florence,” in Pawns or Players, ed. Christine Meeks
and Catherine Lawless (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2003), 120–121.
48 Gloria Fossi, Filippo Lippi (Florence: Scala, 1989), 19.
Giorgio Vasari in his 1550 edition of Lives of the Artists. The incon-
sistencies and even distortions of the story stem from the author’s
Counter-Reformation reluctance to divulge ecclesiastical missteps,
coupled with his general carelessness about dates and details unre-
lated to art. Nevertheless, Vasari’s account remains essentially correct,
and it is the place to begin when dealing with this romantic scandal.
In Prato, near Florence, where Fra Filippo had some relations,

he took up his abode for some months and there executed
various works for the whole surrounding district, in company
with the Carmelite, Fra Diamante, who had been his com-
panion in novitiate. Having then received a commission from
the nuns of Santa Margherita, to paint a picture for the high
altar of their church, he one day chance to see the daughter
of Francesco Buti, a citizen of Florence, who had been sent to
the Convent, either as a novice or boarder. Fra Filippo, having
given a glance at Lucrezia, for such was the name of the girl, who
was exceedingly beautiful and graceful, so persuaded the nuns,
that he prevailed on them to permit him to make a likeness of
her, for the figure of the Virgin in the work he was executing
for them. The result of this was, that the painter fell violently
in love with Lucrezia, and at length found means to influence
her in such a manner, that he led her away from the nuns, and
on a certain day, when she had gone forth to do honour to the
Cintola [girdle] of our Lady, a venerated relic preserved at Prato
and exhibited on that occasion, he bore her from their keeping.
By this event the nuns were deeply disgraced and the father of
Lucrezia was so grievously afflicted thereat, that he never more
recovered his cheerfulness, and made every possible effort to
regain his child. But Lucrezia, whether retained by fear or by
some other cause, would not return, but remained with Filippo
[Filippino Lippi 1457–1504] to whom she bore a son, who was
also called Filippo, and who eventually became a most excellent
and very famous painter like his father.49
49 Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors, and Archi-
tects, trans. Mrs. Jonathan Foster (London: G. Bell, 1895–1904), 2: 79–80.
Vasari would have liked his readers to believe that the whole incident
was less scandalous because Fra Filippo was a friar in name only; that
upon “hearing himself so highly commended by all [as an artist] he
formed his resolution at the age of seventeen and boldly threw off the
clerical habit.”50 So too, he claims that at the time of her seduction
Lucrezia had only been “a novice or a boarder” at Santa Margherita.
Neither assertion proves to be correct. Beginning with Gaetano
Milanesi’s annotated and corrected edition of The Lives (1878–1881)
scholars have used notarial documents, account books, property
records and those of the monasteries of Santa Maria del Carmine, and
Santa Margherita to clarify aspects of Filippo and Lucrezia’s biogra-
phies.51 Consequently, we can now summarize the details of their love
affair with reasonable accuracy.
Filippo Lippi had been placed with the Florentine Carmelites as
a young orphan, went through the novitiate and professed his vows
as a friar in 1421. He would be ordained as a priest within a few years
and because of his evident gifts as a painter, after 1437 he no longer
lived in the Santa Maria del Carmine convent. His clerical status was
an asset to his peripatetic artistic life since he could be, and was, ben-
eficed. As we explore in some detail later this book, to be the recipient
of an ecclesiastical office with attached income essentially freed such
monks and friars from monastic vows (save for that of chastity), as
such individuals were providing cure of souls via an income-produc-
ing posting. Fra Lippo’s appointment in 1456 as chaplain of a small
Augustinian nunnery in Prato, Santa Margherita, would give him the
opportunity to violate his remaining vow.52
Lucrezia Buti, a professed nun in the monastery, had been placed
there at the age of sixteen by her brother after her father’s death. Both
she and her sister, Spinetta, had taken their final vows on 8 April 1454.53
In 1456 Fra Filippo, chaplain of Santa Margherita was also painting the
altarpiece for the monastery church. He asked the abbess, Bartolemea
de Bovacchiesi (whose portrait is included, as kneeling patron, in the
resulting painting), if he could use a strikingly beautiful young nun,
50 Ibid, 2:75.
51 Megan Holmes, Fra Filippo Lippi (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1999), 10–16.
52 Ibid, 106, 246.
53 Ibid, 264.
Lucrezia Buti, as a model for the Virgin Mary, and was given that per-
mission. Hence the first likeness of Lucrezia that comes down to us is
that of the Virgin in Madonna Giving her Girdle to St. Thomas, now
in the Galaeria Communale de Plazzo Pretorio, Prato. Shortly after
becoming the artist’s model, Lucrezia left the monastery and went to
live in Lippi’s Prato house. Interestingly, her sister Spinetta and three
other nuns accused of illicit relations with men also left about the
same time. Lucrezia gave birth to her son, Filippino (1457–1504), but
then, a notarial entry dated 23 December 1459 records the renewal of
her vows, along with the other apostate nuns. Whatever her rationale
for this temporary return to the fold, Lucrezia was not happy with
the life that had been chosen for her and just as clearly the celebrated
Florentine artist would not be happy without her – a 1461 complaint
to monastic officials charged that Fra Filippo continued to visit the
mother of his child. By 1465 a second child, Alessandra, had been born
to Lucrezia and Filippo, who were living as man and wife.
Vasari had claimed that Pope Eugenius IV, one of Lippi’s famous
patrons, had offered the couple a dispensation so that they might legit-
imize their union, “but Fra Filippo, desiring to retain the power of
living after his own fashion and of indulging his love of pleasure as
might seem good to him, did not care to accept that offer.”54 Milanesi
correctly noted that since Eugenius IV had died long before, Pius II
would have to have made the offer, and he hinted that Lippi had not
refused it.
[The pope] moved by the warm recommendations of Cosimo

[de Medici], and perhaps because he was a great supporter of
virtuous men, and also in consideration of the excellence of
Fra Filippo Lippi in his painting, conceded, in order to remove
every scandal, the possibility of having Lucrezia as his legiti-
mate wife, releasing them both from their monastic vows, and
granting the friar a dispensation from the restrictions of his
Order.55
Milanesi’s account, in turn, was refuted by Padre Paolo Caioli, a

Carmelite whose archival research into the records of Santa Maria
54 Vasari, Lives, 2:86.

55 Holmes, Fra Filippo Lippi, 11, 246 n. 17.
del Carmine confirmed Lippi’s profession as a friar and ordination

as a priest.56 Caioli averred that it was therefore unlikely that the
pope, any pope at the time, could have not only released both from
vows of profession but also allowed them to marry. Unlikely, perhaps,
but not impossible given the acknowledgment by noted canonists
in the fifteenth century that there were no vows, not even those of
religious profession, from which the pope could not dispense.57 The
claim that Pope Pius II did, on 8 May 1461, grant such a dispensa-
tion to Lippi and Buti is still debated, as is the documentary evidence
from the papal registers.58 In the event, there is certainly no evidence
that Lucrezia and Filippo ever married. After the death of her lover,
however, Lucrezia was well provided for by her son. In 1488, Filippino
executed his last will and testament in preparation for a prolonged
stay in Rome, leaving two of his houses in Prato to his sister and
mother respectively, and a third in Florence for Lucrezia’s use. His
“beloved mother, daughter of the late Francesco Buti of Florence,”
was to get regular supplies of oil, wood, and salt meat throughout the
rest of her life.59
Throughout her life with Lippi, Lucrezia Buti served as the artist’s
model for at least two more of his paintings of the Madonna.60 And
while Fra Filippo’s self-portrait is not particularly flattering, that of
his son, Filippino, captures some of his mother’s nearly angelic grace
and beauty. Nor does the visual documentation of their relationship
end in the sixteenth century. Vasari’s depiction of their passion and
sensuality heedless of pious restraint made the tale of Fra Lippi and
Lucrezia Buti extremely popular among artists in the nineteenth cen-
tury, beginning with the French Salon. By mid-century, as many as
twenty examples of paintings concerning the lives of the old masters
were produced in any given year, and of particular interest were the
lives of Italian masters mentioned in Vasari. The Romantic fascination
with artistic license and the transporting power of desire found per-
56 Paolo Caioli, “Un altro sguardo sulla vita di fra Filippo Lipppi,” Carmelus
5 (1958), 30–72.
57 James Lowry, Dispensation from Private Vows (Washington, DC: Catholic
University of America Press, 1946), 48–56.
58 Lawless, “Women on the Margins,” 121 n. 64.
59 Katharine Neilson, Filippino Lippi (Connecticut: Greenwood, 1972), 80.
60 Dictionary of Artists’ Models, ed. Jill B. Jiminez (Dearborn: Fitzroy, 2001),
94–96.
fect expression in paintings of the Lippi/Lucrezia affair.61 While wildly

anachronistic, works such as Paul Dearoche’s Filippo Lippi Falling in
Love with his Model (1822), Antonio Gualdi’s Fra Filipppo Lippi and
Lucrezia Buti (1855), and Gabriele Castagnola’s Filippo Lippi and the
nun Lucrezia Buti (1860, see cover image), testify to the continuing
resonance of this tale, now transmuted into a story about artistic sen-
sitivity to female beauty, and about the triumph of sensuality over
bleak (and monochromatic) religious strictures.
Very few runaway nuns were as famous, or as fortunate in their
later secular arrangements as Lucrezia Buti, but some do seem to have
been responding to a similar siren song of love denied them. Others,
like Maud Huntercombe, may have been used by men as pawns in a
bid to garner landed property and status. Still others, like Joan Bruys,
appear to have colluded with their lovers and to have become as adept
as they in achieving courtroom victories and augmenting their for-
tunes. It should be noted that the variations that persisted in monastic
practice from house to house contributed to the plight of a few of these
women, such as Joyce Hywyssh. Despite efforts by local ordinaries to
impose consistent canonical practice with respect to veiling, episcopal
visitation returns show that distinctions between fully professed choir
nuns and novices continued to be blurred. Sometimes even lay sis-
ters, as in the Yorkshire nunnery of Swine, had been allowed to wear
the black veil reserved as a sign of full profession.62 It was because of
such continuing problems regarding consistent standards that Joyce
Hywyssh appears to have felt confident in her claim to have been a
laywoman, and secure enough in her purported secular status to put
forth that claim in a court of law. Her subsequent apostasy after the
bishop’s certification to the contrary, underscores this point.
While appreciating the multiplicity of factors that might have
accounted for their actions, the apostate nuns dealt with in this chapter
were generally far from committed to the religious life and displayed a
61 Jenny Graham, “Amorous Passions: Vasari’s Legend of Fra Filippo Lippi

in the Art and Poetry of the Nineteenth Century,” Studi di Memofonte
rivista on-line semestrale 12 (2014), 187–210, at http://www.memofonte.
it/home/files/pdf/XII_2014_STUDI_DI_MEMOFONTE.pdf [accessed 15
March 2019].
62 Janet E. Burton, The Yorkshire Nunneries in the Twelfth and Thirteenth
Centuries. Borthwick Papers 56 (York: Borthwick Institute, 1979), 31. See
also examples in Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 302.
gradual disregard for, and disengagement from, religious restrictions

even while still living within their communities. When, as in the case
of Easebourne Priory, community members themselves deposed that
lax observance and regular association with men was tolerated, the
final departure of a nun from monastic life must have seemed less like
a leap over the cloister wall than a step over the rubble of its ruins.
There are many other cases of apostasy, however, occasioned neither
by love of man nor money. In some instances, the apostates in ques-
tion did not really envision a permanent departure, a full ‘casting off
of the habit of religion,’ physical separation from their monasteries
having preceded their apostasy. In these cases, nuns sent away by
necessity, or who had been allowed to leave on a temporary basis for
reasons of health or spiritual renewal, found that the passage of time
had unanticipated consequences. We now turn to some example of
those nuns for whom absence failed to make the heart grow fonder.
4
Diversions and Disasters
Nuns are people too, and like people everywhere they need to take
the occasional break from routine; when they do, they enjoy some
of the same pleasures and pastimes as the rest of us. When medie-
val nuns selected their diversions, they too chose from the common
store, which in their case consisted of universal restoratives like visits
with family and friends, as well as those of a more peculiarly medieval
stamp, like pilgrimages. Whatever their character, these respites from
religious routine supplied an essential component of a balanced life
and injected the stimulus of variety into communal regularity. For a
few nuns however, diversions became substitutes for that regularity,
and so for the vowed life.
Any enjoyment, even of an elevated sort, might become something
more than an innocuous interlude. Few stories can rival the one from
an era outside of our purview: that of Sister Christina Cavazza, the
seventeenth-century Bolognese nun who, disguised as an abbot, left
her monastery on three separate occasions (she was apprehended on
her fourth attempt) in order to attend the opera.1 But music, or at
the very least the musician, does seem to have been a deciding factor
in the choices made by a fifteenth-century Benedictine nun from the
priory of St. Michael’s, Stamford, Agnes Butler.2
When Bishop Alnwick visited the house in October of 1440,
Prioress Dame Elizabeth Weldone deposed “that one Agnes, a nun
of that place, has gone way in apostasy, cleaving to a harp-player; and
1 Craig Monson, Nuns Behaving Badly (Chicago: University of Chicago

Press, 2010), 153–196.
2 Eileen Power, Medieval English Nunneries, c. 1275 to 1535 (New York: Biblo
and Tannen, 1922; 1964), 310, 449.
that they dwell together, as it is said, in Newcastle-on-Tyne.”3 We learn

a little further on in the detecta that this was not Agnes’ first unwar-
ranted departure. The subprioress Dame Agnes Multone told the
bishop that “sister Agnes, named Butylere or Pery or Northamptone,
who is now an apostate, was led into apostasy at another time for a
day and a night by brother John Harryes of the Augustinian order but
that now she has been away for a year and a half.” The harp-player’s
appeal, initially perhaps only a lovely diversion from routine, seems to
have been more lasting – Agnes had returned from her tryst with Friar
John after just one night – but Bishop Alnwick was nevertheless duty-
bound to try to stop the music they were making together. Although
the couple was now reportedly living together within the jurisdiction
of the Bishop of Durham, Alwick enjoined the prioress “to bring back
as conveniently as she can the said apostate, who has gone away, as
is foresaid, with a harp-player by name Robert Abbot.”4 Whether
Prioress Weldone was able to accomplish this task at all, much less
‘conveniently,’ remains a mystery, but at least the bishop’s investiga-
tions had provided her with the names of both parties.
Trips to visit friends and relatives or to regain health had always
been respites that professed nuns who possessed the appropriate per-
missions could legitimately enjoy. As discussed earlier, even the 1298
publication of Periculoso, Pope Boniface VIII’s attempt to cloister all
nuns and so end departures for such reasons, did little to curtail the
traditional practice. Excursions for business or pleasure continued to
be approved by local ordinaries and subsequent popes all but vitiated
the pope’s sternly worded mandate.5 Papal and episcopal registers tes-
tify to the practice of granting indulgences for temporary leaves of
absence. Even the rigorous Archbishop Greenfield of York, for exam-
ple, allowed nuns to visit their parents or friends stipulating only that
they be required to return within fifteen days.6 And although bishops
3 Visitations of Religious Houses in the Diocese of Lincoln, 1436–1449, ed. A.

Hamilton Thompson (Lincoln: Printed for the Lincoln Record Society by
J.W. Ruddock, 1929), 3:2:348.
4 Ibid, 3:2:350.
ica Press, 1999), 114–119.
6 From injunctions issued after a visitation of the Cistercian nunnery of
Rosedale in 1315. See below.
diversions and disasters 107
decried the practice, the license of an abbess or prioress was equally

efficacious in many communities.
Before, as well as after Periculoso then, professed nuns contin-
ued to obtain permission from local ordinaries or superiors to take
vacations. Stays with friends or relatives might last for weeks or even
months, but if the nuns who took such extended leave had either
secured a superior’s approval beforehand or had gone out of their
monasteries still clothed in their religious habits – both gestures sig-
naling that they intended to return – they were not considered apos-
tates. When even that was lacking, however, the charge of apostasy
might be leveled. Barbara Seckendorfferin, a Premonstratensian nun
from Sulz, Würzburg, provides a case in point. Barbara’s 1457 peti-
tion to the Papal Penitentiary asked for absolution from the sin of
apostasy incurred by a temporary but unsanctioned departure from
her house. She confessed that she had gone to visit friends and rela-
tives and then elected to stay with them for some time (consanguinis et
amicis suis per certum temporibus stetit), and that furthermore she had
done so without wearing her religious habit and without the license of
her superior.7 So too Margareta Coerin, a professed nun of the Order
of St. Jerome, Passau diocese, who in 1458 sought absolution directly
from the curia in Rome for absenting herself without leave from her
monastery in Vienna.8 And when the unfortunate nun Magdalena
Moserin, a Poor Clare from the diocese of Constance, was caught by
superiors shortly after she had secretly left her monastery, she had
been consigned to perpetual imprisonment.9 Only after she petitioned
the Penitentiary in 1464 was she granted the freedom to transfer to
another (and one hopes more tolerant) monastery, in addition to
absolution for her apostasy.
What a professed nun might have originally intended as a short-
term break from community life could turn into something quite dif-
ferent, and the farther away she traveled, the more likely it was that
it would. That was one reason why Church authorities took such a
dim view of regulars, whether monks or nuns, going on pilgrimage.10
7 RPG III, Calixtus III 1455–1458, 356.

8 RPG III, Calixtus III 1455–1458, 560.
9 RPG V, Paul II 1464–1471, 1058.
10 Dee Dyas et al., Pilgrims & Pilgrimage: Journey, Spirituality & Daily Life
through the Centuries (York: University of York; Nottingham: St. John’s
Arguments against monks and nuns involving themselves in ‘place

pilgrimage,’ that is, traveling to holy sites associated with Christ and
the saints, had sound spiritual underpinnings. Religious profession
was a total commitment with every aspect of the vowed life designed
to lead one closer to God. Consequently, whether at work or prayer,
whether reading or eating, regulars were already directing their atten-
tion toward the source of all holiness; there was no need to trade the
solitude and silence of the inner journey for the bustle of an outward
one, and there were many reasons, especially for female religious, to
actively avoid doing so.
Brawls and improprieties around shrines themselves were far

from uncommon. Pious women, especially, were subject to
insult when visiting shrines, and even great pilgrimage churches
occasionally had to be reconsecrated because violence, even
rape or bloodshed, had occurred within them. Christian writers
railed against the depredations of the Saracens on Holy Land
pilgrimage, but lawlessness and brigandage, much of it per-
petrated by individuals and groups who eluded the control of
public authority, were a perennial hazard for the pilgrim within
Europe.11
Perils of travel by land or sea, threat of robbery, molestation, and

violent death in a far-off land were all very real hazards for medi-
eval pilgrims, making group travel the only sensible option. And
since financing a long pilgrimage to Rome or the Holy Land was not
within the ability of the average person, lay or religious, such ventures
were generally restricted to the upper classes. Consequently, the lay-
women who went on pilgrimage were most often wealthy wives in the
company of husbands and retainers, or well-to-do widows with their
own bands of companions and servants. So too, a majority of nuns
who received permission to go on pilgrimage were religious women
of some considerable standing, abbesses or prioresses most often.12
College, 2007), CD-ROM. See especially the sections that deal with monas-
ticism and pilgrimage. Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 371–375.
11 Diana Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage (Houndmills: Palgrave,
2002), 39.
12 Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage, 89–92.
Indeed, Chaucer’s Madame Eglentyne, traveling in a party of social

equals and subordinates, both secular and religious, and herself a pri-
oress of some breeding and status, is representative of the historical
pilgrim nun in this era.13 When royal license was required for travel
abroad from England, for instance, the abbess of Elnstowe (1329), the
prioress of Clerkenwell (1331), and the abbess of Barking (1350) are
the only nuns named, along with abbots, priors, and the widows of
knights and earls.14
Such restrictions must have galled nuns whose requests to make
long-distance pilgrimages had been denied. Yet as bishops and monas-
tic superiors knew well, there could be complications whenever reg-
ulars were permitted such extended holy travel. In 1466 Pope Paul II
responded to a petition from one such monastic pilgrim. After getting
permission from her local ordinary, Agnes Cauod, an Augustinian
nun (medieval records tend to use the designation ‘nun’ rather than
‘canoness’) from St. Mary Graces, Dublin, visited the shrines of SS.
Peter and Paul in Rome but never returned to Dublin. Instead, finding
herself very much attracted to the Benedictine order, she had entered
a community of nuns in Coventry, Lincoln, where she wished to
remain. Because she feared that she had incurred excommunication as
a result of her decidedly irregular, and unlicensed, transfer, she begged
the pope for absolution, which he granted by issuing a mandate to the
bishop of London.15
Rome was a destination that had appealed to pilgrims throughout
the Middle Ages and its lure was never greater than in the period fol-
lowing the papal institution of Jubilee years. In 1300, Pope Boniface
VIII proclaimed the first Holy Year or Jubilee, making a plenary
indulgence available to visitors to the basilicas of the apostles. What
Boniface VIII had imagined taking place once a century, his succes-
sors allowed to occur first at fifty, then thirty-three, and finally, by
1475, at twenty-five-year intervals.16 For male religious particularly,
the prospect of a full pardon for all earthly mandated punishments
13 Graciela S. Daichman, Wayward Nuns in Medieval Literature (Syracuse:

Syracuse University Press, 1986), 137–164.
14 Susan Morrison, Women Pilgrims in Late Medieval England (London:
Routledge, 2000), 157,160.
15 Morrison, Women Pilgrims, 50, 164.
16 Webb, Medieval European Pilgrimage, 26–27.
due to sin, coupled with a chance to visit the incomparable churches

of Rome was an opportunity simply too good to ignore, and unli-
censed pilgrimage by professed monks resulted in many instances of
apostasy. In Pope Clement VI’s Jubilee year of 1350, for example, there
were eighteen monks from England alone whose pilgrim status also
classified them as apostates.17 While far fewer in number, professed
nuns too became apostates in order to make the journey to the Holy
City. Katherine Thornyf, for one, “seduced by the Angel of Darkness,”
set off on pilgrimage to Rome without leave of the local ordinary,
or even of the prioress, of her Cistercian community at Wykeham,
Yorkshire.18 Although she had departed with another nun, that com-
panion had subsequently died. Left alone in the world, Katherine
had then gone to live with a married man in London. According to
Archbishop Kemp’s letter to the prioress in 1450, Katherine had finally
repented her apostasy and sought readmission to the house, a request
which he strongly approved.19
As the cases of Agnes Cauod and Katherine Thornyf suggest, a
nun’s decision to leave her monastery on a temporary basis might
have unintended negative consequences. When such temporary
departures were dictated by circumstances rather than individual
decision – when, in fact, the nuns in question did not even want to
leave – the consequences could still be very similar. Whether man-
made or natural, disasters impacted monasteries with savage regu-
larity in the later Middle Ages, and devastation or the prospect of it
sometimes forced nuns to leave their established communities and to
fend for themselves as best they could until their monasteries were
once again safe havens. Disaster drove survivors to leave familiar sur-
roundings behind and for some it was an exile from which they never
returned. One of the greatest scourges of the era, the plague that vis-
ited and revisited Europe, needs no introduction; it is useful, however,
to be reminded of its unique effects upon religious men and women
living in community.

(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 29–31.
19 York, Borthwick Institute for Archives (University of York), Archbishops’
Registers 19 (Register of John Kempe,1425–1452), fol.72r.
If there were eighty million inhabitants of Europe in 1346, on

the eve of the Black Death, it is plausibly estimated that twen-
ty-five million died in the pandemic of 1347–51 … recurrent
visitations of the plague, and the effects of war and of other dis-
eases, which seem to have increased in infectiousness and viru-
lence, continued to prevent the population from recovering to
its pre-plague levels … the demographic crisis was horrendous
for the Church. In the first place, the communities in which
monks, canons, nuns and cathedral and collegiate chapters
lived were particularly vulnerable to the spread of disease. The
fleas on the cooling body of one dead monk who succumbed to
the pestilence found ready hosts in the members of the com-
munity who gathered to wash his body, pray, sing psalms, and
otherwise prepare the dead for burial. As evidence accumulates,
it becomes clearer that these communities suffered higher rate
of mortality than the population at large. No generalizations are
possible as yet, but a number of religious communities lost as
many as 60 per cent of their members or more.20
In her study of female monasteries in the diocese of Norwich, Marilyn

Oliva tabulated the decline in the numbers of nuns that resulted from
recurring plagues during the years from 1350 to 1400. In this fifty-year
interval the number of nuns in the diocese dropped from 179 in 1350
to 113 in 1400. While all of the houses suffered losses of between three
and five nuns each in this plague period, numbers at Blackborough,
Bungay, Campsey Ash, and Shouldham fell more dramatically:
Blackborough and Bungay lost eight nuns, Campsey Ash ten, and
Shouldham nineteen.21
From the 1347–1350 registers of John Gynewell, bishop of Lincoln,
comes a compelling story of one nun caught up in the horror of the
great pestilence.22 As so many of the clergy in his diocese had died
in the plague, Bishop Gynewell traveled tirelessly to see to installing
20 William Chester Jordan, Europe in the High Middle Ages (London: Pen-
guin Books, 2002), 297.
21 Marilyn Oliva, The Convent and the Community in Late Medieval England
UK: Boydell Press, 1998), 38–39.
22 A. H. Thompson, “Registers of John Gynewell, Bishop of Lincoln, for the
Years 1347-1350,” Archaeological Journal 68 (1911), 300–360.
replacements and to filling the needs of monastic houses suffering the

effects of this deadly cycle. The Cistercian nunnery of Coton was one
such devastated house, and as a consequence one of its nuns, Ella de
Mounceaux, had obtained a leave of absence. Instead of returning at
the designated time, however, she had stayed away and eventually
become the mistress of one John Haunsard. When Haunsard died in
1349, likely of the plague, she came before Bishop Gynewell and tear-
fully sought readmission to Nuncoton. Convinced of her repentance
and good resolve, he ordered the prioress to receive her graciously.23
An equally moving story involves a nun from the Northampton
priory of Worthorpe.24 All of the members of this Benedictine com-
munity save one, the prioress Agnes Bowes, had died or left after
1349, and the Black Death had such a ruinous effect on the finances
of the priory that in March 1354, the patrons Sir Thomas Holland
and Joan his wife, daughter of Edward of Woodstock earl of Kent,
obtained Crown license to annex the house to the nearby nunnery of
St. Michael, Stamford. The royal grant reads as follows.
On the petition of Thomas de Holand and Joan, his wife, the

king’s Westminster, kinswoman, patrons of the house of nuns
of Wyrthorp, in the diocese of Lincoln, praying that, whereas
the house is slenderly endowed, and by the pestilence lately
prevailing as well as by other adverse fortunes is brought into
so great poverty that all the nuns of the house with one excep-
tion are dispersed on account of the penury and the house of
itself cannot rise again, the king will grant licence for the dioc-
esan of the place to unite it to the priory of the nuns of St.
Michael by Staunford with the consent of all interested; the king
has granted licence for the bishop of the said place to annex
the house of Wyrthorp, with its rights and possessions and the
church of Wyrthorp appropriated to the house, to the priory
and to transfer the said nun to stay there under a regular habit.
He has granted licence also for the petitioners to transfer to the
prioress and nuns of the priory that which pertains to them of
23 Thompson, “Registers of John Gynewell,” 331.

the house of Wyrthorp and the things and possessions of the

same.25
The bishop of Lincoln confirmed this annexation in June, detailed the

portioning out of revenues to St. Michael’s, which had also suffered
severe diminution of its resources. At the same time, he approved the
transfer of the now ex-prioress, Agnes Bowes. Once there, however,
she could not find contentment, or perhaps she simply couldn’t
muster the humility required to now live as an ordinary nun. In the
event, the demoted prioress was indicted as an apostate in 1359, and
a commission was appointed to find and return her to St. Michael,
Stamford. We do not know if that commission succeeded.
War, another profound bane of late medieval European existence,
also threatened to destroy the lives and livelihood of nuns. It led to
many petitions to the Sacred Penitentiary styled after that submitted
by two professed Premonstratensian nuns, Adelheit and Behmyn of
Helmstat. In October of 1453 they petitioned Pope Nicholas V to allow
them to transfer to the Benedictine monastery in Speyer since they
could no longer abide in good conscience and peace of mind in their
Würzburg community, so depleted and diminished had the resources
of that monastery become as a consequence of warfare in the region.26
The ravages of war also led to unauthorized departures and even
apostasy.
The Hundred Years War left scarcely any fourteenth-century
French monastery, hospital, or church untouched by “either the dev-
astation of its goods, or the theft of its movables, or the reduction of
its revenues or the diminution of its alms, or a general disorder.”27
And, as the French Benedictine pope, Urban V (1362–1370) knew well,
it was not only whole-scale warfare that took its toll on monastic life.
Much of Urban’s papacy had been devoted to diplomacy aimed at the
pacification of Italy as well as France, since both countries were over-
run by mercenary bands known as the Free Companies. When he left
Avignon for Rome in 1367, Italy was in fact so unsettled that he could
25 CPR 1354–1358 Edward III 10:27–28.

26 RPG II, Nicholas V 1447–1455, 1044.
27 John Aberth, From the Brink of the Apocalypse (New York: Routledge,
2010), 66.
only enter the Holy City with an army of his own and escorted by the
count of Savoy and other powerful secular lords.
Although Urban V returned to Avignon in September of 1370 when
war once again broke out between France and England, it was while he
was still in residence in Rome that this pope so well acquainted with
the horrors of warfare responded to a petition involving nuns who had
been caught up in it.28 It was presented to him in 1368 by a monk from
Clairvaux, in the diocese of Langres [Lingonensis], acting at the behest
of the Cistercian procurator general, and it involved a community of
Cistercian nuns from the same diocese. Although the community is
unnamed in the supplication, it must have been either Tart, the first
Cistercian monastery for women, or one of its filiations in Langres,
such as Belmont, Coulonges, or Vauxbons.29 Because the open coun-
tryside surrounding this community had become a battleground the
nuns fled for safety, either to the homes of their parents or to other
protected venues. Some went to the city of Avignon and others as far
as Provence. Now, however, although the fighting was over, the nuns
who had scattered were not interested in returning to their monastery
(quamvis dicta guerrarum cessent discrimina, ad earum monasteria
redire non curant). The pope responded to this report of large-scale
apostasy with remedies equal to the problem. In his order to the offi-
cial in Avignon, he required that these vagrant nuns be compelled to
return to their monastery via capture and even imprisonment, using
the aid of secular forces if needed.
Countless regional battle and border skirmishes, whether between
Italian city states or Swiss mercenaries and Austrian freebooters, were
potentially productive of similar results. Most often it was a question
of one or a few individuals, rather than an entire community, fail-
ing to return once hostilities in the region had ended. In some cases,
confusion and a desire for sanctuary led to apostasy of a merely tech-
nical sort. For instance, Barbara Voegtin, a professed Augustinian
nun from St. Katherine’s in the diocese of Constance, sought abso-

Siècle (Rome: Ecole français de Rome, 1982), # 24768.
29 Constance H. Berman, The White Nuns: Cistercian Abbeys for Women in
Medieval France (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018), 7.
lution from the Penitentiary in 1460 for a sentence of excommuni-

cation incurred when she took it upon herself to leave her monastery
in a war-torn region.30 She did not take to the high road, however,
nor did she entirely rid herself of the habit of religion. Barbara went
to another, unnamed, house where she did little worse than wear the
habit of the nuns of that order. She stayed in that community for some
time, although without making her profession in the new order. Her
petition asked not only for absolution but for the dispensation to
return to St. Katherine’s, which she very much desired.
In fourteenth-century Yorkshire, the Scottish Wars of
Independence so severely disturbed monastic life that Archbishop
William Melton (1317–1340) dispersed two female communities for
a time to keep members from the depredations of raiding parties.31
These were the convents of Moxby and Rosedale, and it is from the sad
event of these dispersions that two more stories of apostasy emerge.
The nunnery of Moxby [Molseby] was an Augustinian house that had
been in existence since the mid-twelfth century. In November 1322,
owing to the raids of the Scots, Archbishop Melton sent the nuns off
to other monasteries: Sabina de Apelgarth and Margaret de Neusom
were sent to Nun Monkton, Alice de Barton, the prioress, to Swine,
Joan de Barton and Joan de Toucotes to Nun Appleton, Agnes de
Ampleford and Agnes de Jarkesmill to Nunkeeling, and Joan de
Brotherton and Joan Blaunkfront to Hampole.32 The majority of these
nuns seemed to regroup after the worst threats were over, but for both
of the women sent to the Cistercian priory of Hampole, the journey
back home would be a complicated one.
Joan Brotherton was perhaps the least prepared to endure such an
unsettled situation and relocation, since she had only just returned to
Moxby. In February of 1322, Archbishop Melton had sent a letter to
the prioress instructing her to receive Joan, whom he had absolved
of apostasy, and requiring her to impose the appropriate penance as
prescribed by their order.33 Indeed, part of that penance was that Joan
30 RPG IV, Pius II 1458–1464, 1155.

31 John Tillotson, “Visitation and Reform of the Yorkshire Nunneries in the
Fourteenth Century,” Northern History 30 (1994), 9.
33 The Register of William Melton, Archbishop of York, 1317–1340, vol. 2, ed.
David Robinson, Canterbury and York Society 101 (Woodbridge, UK:
Boydell for the Canterbury and York Society, 2011), 172.
be confined to the inner precincts of the house and that she not even
be allowed to send or receive letters from the outside world. While
the transfer to Hampole within months of the imposition of this
penitential regimen might not directly account for Joan’s recidivism
– she would be the focus of Melton’s attention again in July of 1328
– it was surely not a palliative for a troubled soul.34 And then there
was Joan’s companion on the journey to Hampole, Joan Blaunkfront
[Blankefronte]. It is not clear whether Blaunkfront ever got to her new
temporary home, since the extent of her time as a runaway nun is
not mentioned in the pope’s mandate for her reconciliation. On 17
July 1345, Pope Clement VI stipulated to the priors of Kirkham and St.
Andrew’s in York, and to a canon of Bangor, that they were “to carry
out the ordinances touching apostates in regard to Joan Blankefrontis,
Augustinian nun of Molseby, in the diocese of York, who, having left
her order desires to be reconciled to it.”35
Similar complications attended the archbishop’s relocation of
the Cistercian nuns of Rosedale. On 21 November 1322, most of the
nuns of that monastery, which had been severely damaged by Scottish
raids, were sent away for what would be more than half a year.
Nunburnholme was to take in Alice de Rippinghale, Sinningthwaite to
receive Avelina de Brus, and Thicket to accept Margaret de Langtoft,
while Joan Crouel was to take up temporary residence at Wykeham
and Eleanor Dayvill, Hampole. Such upheavals and temporary
arrangements challenged even those nuns who were most committed
to maintaining monastic ritual and routine in the teeth of them. Then
we hear of others, from this same ravaged house of Rosedale, who
were less capable of, or inclined to, endurance.
Just a little earlier in the year, on 18 May 1322, Archbishop Melton
had sent a letter to the prioress of the nearby Cistercian convent of
Handale, ordering them to receive Isabella Dayvill, apostate nun
from Rosedale. She had repented, and Melton had absolved her from
excommunication; he now sent her to Handale to serve out the pen-
ance prescribed for her sin.36 On 14 June 1322, he wrote to the pri-
oress and convent of her motherhouse, Rosedale, stating that “since
34 This episode will be dealt with in the final chapter, which addresses repeat
offenders.
35 CPR Regesta 3 168: 1345–1346, 185–195.
36 Register of William Melton, 181.
a change of heart often followed a change of scene,” he was sending

Isabella away to Handale to help her amend her spirit. Within three
days the prioress was to get together the necessities to send with her
to that house.37 As we shall see in the next chapter, it was not uncom-
mon to impose this sort of banishment on penitent prodigals. The
harshness of fasting, prayers and other penances enjoined upon the
runaway was thereby compounded by an ignoble position in an alien
house. The stigma for females was further reinforced by the fact that
they would not be allowed to wear the black veil during their time of
exile, which might last for some years. But the expectation, at least
in times of peace, was that this penitential banishment would end –
that either at the conclusion of the time enjoined or via mitigation of
the bishop, the contrite and shriven nun would return to her ‘sheep
fold,’ her familiar community. Was Isabella Dayvill able to temper her
suffering and humiliation with such hope? What could she expect to
find upon her return to Rosedale, if in fact the motherhouse was still
standing?
Devastating natural or man-made scourges such as pestilence and
war could wreak havoc and destabilize communities of nuns, paving
the way for apostasy; human action of a more limited sort might
also lead to deracination, and potentially have similar consequences.
Carmen Florea recorded one such intriguing case from the very
fringes of Latin Christendom, the diocese of Transylvania.
In 1406, Innocent VII issued a letter to the archbishop of

Esztergom. According to the papal bull, Elizabeth, Margaret,
another Elizabeth, Gertrud, and Catherine – Cistercian nuns
in the monastery from Braşov (Kronstadt, Brassó) – had com-
plained about the difficulties they had to face and appealed to
the papal curia for a solution. Because they wished to embrace
religious life, from their own income and with the help of other
pious people, these women built a house next to the chapel
of St. Catherine, entered into the Cistercian Order, and lived
in that house under the supervision of the abbot of a nearby
Cistercian monastery. After a while, however, the abbot, some
of the Cistercian monks, and the parish priest of the town had
started to offend them. The women were forced to leave the
37 Register of William Melton, 182.

house they had built, some of their belongings were confiscated

by their persecutors, and the abbot even took away the Order’s
habit from them. All of this happened because they did not
want to cook for the monks or take care of their gardens; as the
letter describes they did not want to do such work appropriate
only for those engaged in domestic service. Because they did not
want to live in apostasy, they took the habit of the Benedictine
nuns. A solution was found to their complaint, as a papal envoy
was sent to settle the affair. The women were received back into
the Cistercian Order and the abbot from the nearby monastery
of Cârţa (kercz) was obliged to appoint a monk to take care of
them ‘in spiritualibus et in temporalibus’. Finally, the pope con-
firmed the restoration of their status, and the women returned
to their house and to their lives within the Cistercian Order.38
This case illustrates many things, not the least of which is the ongoing
reluctance of some male religious to accept – much less provide mate-
rially and spiritually for – female religious associated with their order,
and papal determination to require it. A most telling aspect for our
purposes, however, is the grounds upon which these five nuns left
behind the house that they themselves had built. They did not want
to cook for the monks, they said, or be their gardeners, since such
work was “appropriate only for those engaged in domestic service.”
By requiring them to perform such labor, the monks were demeaning
them, violating customary expectations regarding their social class.
The reorientation of values and expectations envisioned by late
medieval reformers, particularly those implementing Observant
reform of traditional communities throughout Europe, could provoke
similar resentment. If war and pestilence threatened life and limb,
zealous monastic reformers threatened a way of life, undermining
comfortable routines and in some cases overturning centuries of tra-
dition. Vigorous reform too might be perceived as a species of disaster
and it also had the potential to trigger apostasy. Like the nuns from
Braşov, some religious would simply not accept reforms that appeared
38 Carmen Florea, “‘For They Wanted Us to Serve Them’: Female Monas-

ticism in Medieval Transylvania,” in Women in the Medieval Monastic
World, ed. Janet Burton and Karen Stöber (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), 211.
to compromise their dignity, and, importantly, to ignore their legal,

customary rights.
Not surprisingly, in an era engulfed in the Schism, with calls for
renewal and anxiety about spiritual leadership at its height, move-
ments to reform religious life in both male and female communities
were everywhere visible. One of the most sweeping, earliest, and most
successful of these for women was the Observant reform of Colette
of Corbie (1381–1447). Colette founded or reformed seventeen Poor
Clare monasteries in France, Burgundy and Savoy; after her death,
the reformed order had monasteries throughout southern Europe
and even as far away as Sweden and Denmark.39 Before and during
Colette’s lifetime, separate Franciscan Observant movements origi-
nating in Italy, France and Spain were also responding to the medioc-
rity, if not decadence, into which the Franciscan order generally had
lapsed.
For monasteries of Clarisses, it should be noted, such “deca-
dence’ was often no more than a relaxation of the Rule of Urban IV,
which provided that Second Order monasteries be allowed to hold
and administer considerable property. The reform of the monastery
of St. Apollinarus of Milan between 1470 and 1472, illustrates the tre-
mendous difference between Urbanist and Observant constitutions.
Inspired by the preaching of Bernadino of Siena to embrace the latter,
the nuns of this large, generously endowed monastery, who had been
used to a comfortable existence, committed themselves to renouncing
all possessions, keeping austere fasts, sleeping on beds of straw, and to
maintaining strict discipline, silence, and full enclosure.40
Fervently embraced by some, Observant reforms were just as fer-
vently rejected by others, and the nature of the resistance offered by
communities of nuns in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries often
mirrored that which they had shown a century earlier in the teeth of
Pope Boniface VIII’s attempt to make strict enclosure the norm in all
nunneries. Marshalling the aid of powerful relatives and patrons, they
had offered passive and active resistance to that ruling and even bel-
ligerently confronted those hapless messengers obliged to publicize it.
Fourteenth-century opponents to strict cloistering had also solicited
39 Elisabeth Lopez, Colette of Corbie (St. Bonaventure, NY: Franciscan Insti-

tute, St. Bonaventure University, 2011).
40 Lopez, Colette of Corbie, 391.
legal advice and garnered judicial opinions that successfully employed

the counterweight of customary usage against restrictive innova-
tion. Slowly but surely, sympathetic bishops and subsequent popes
responded to their arguments and actions, all but undoing the papal
policy of enclosure that had been inaugurated by Pope Boniface VIII.41
Observant reform programs not only reintroduced the Bonifacian
ideal of strict enclosure for nuns, but also called for a complete reori-
entation of life within those cloister walls.
The Observant reform advocated, on the one hand, a return

to the strict piety practiced by the founders of the orders and,
on the other, a new spirituality similar to that of the devotio
moderna or Common Life movement (which was spreading at
the same time from the Netherlands across northern Europe).
Having begun in the 1330s among Franciscans in Italy, the
reformed piety was promoted among Augustinians in the 1380s,
Dominicans in the 1390s and reached the upper Rhine valley by
the turn of the century. From there the movement spread in the
1400s throughout the German-speaking territories.42
But although they were much broader in scope, Observant reform

ideals were also promulgated more effectively than Boniface VIII’s
mandate because they were born of intense religious fervor and had
champions at all levels within the Church. Their spread was directly
related to zealous leadership from within monasteries themselves.
John of Capistrano (d. 1456) and Bernadino of Siena (d. 1444) spread
the Colettine reform in fifteenth-century Italy; the Benedictine monk
Johannes von Minden (d. 1439), joined by the Carthusian Johannes
Rode (d. 1439), arduously put together the reformed congregation of
Bursfeld that ultimately included one hundred and thirty-six monas-
teries of men and sixty-four of women religious.
41 Elizabeth Makowski, “Canon Law and the Spirituality of Cloistered Eng-

lish Nuns,” in Canon Law, Religion, and Politics: Liber Amicorum Robert
Somerville, ed. Uta-Renate Bluemental and Anders Winroth (Washing-
ton, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2012).
University Press, 2004), 6.
Many aspects of the ascetic regimes that reformers enjoined upon

nuns were not alien to late medieval, particularly female, spirituality.
Stress on the imitation of Christ, living in conformity with his pov-
erty and humility, clearly inspired some of the communal actions we
have, or will have shortly, observed. These included the explicit rejec-
tion of large endowments in mendicant communities, harkening back
to Clare of Assisi’s demand for the privilege of poverty for her nuns
of San Damiano, and a willingness among Cistercian nuns to deflect
material resources from physical comfort, and even the daily needs of
a community, toward charitable initiatives among the sick and poor.
So too, patterns of female devotion mirroring the suffering humanity
of Christ, observed with such originality by Caroline Bynum and doc-
umented by a generation of scholars, were also evident. In her recent
study of the fourteenth-century mystic Ermine of Reims, Renate
Blumenfeld-Kosinski put it succinctly.
Endless prayers and fasts, copious tears and intense sufferings

imitating Christ’s Passion, an almost frenzied devotion to the
Eucharist, hair shirts and hard beds, self-inflicted torments with
chains and nettles, fights with demons and angelic visions –
these were some of the hallmarks of late medieval piety and
devotion as practiced by the most fervent women and men.43
But although penitential practices, like monasticism itself, were fea-

tures of late medieval religiosity, their efficacy, just like that of monas-
tic vows, hinged upon individual freedom to commit to them. Even
when employed to punish, as in the case of the returning apostates we
will encounter in the next chapter, their application was intended to
be medicinal, and they acted as a true remedy for sin only if embraced
as such by the sinner. In other words, the prodigal had to become
a remorseful penitent to be cured of sin. Monastic reforms worked
in a similar way. They could only bear fruit if accepted willingly by
members of a community. Reformers thus had to find ways to encour-
age, to model behavior, and to otherwise elicit that assent; to impose
43 Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski,.The Strange Case of Ermine De Reims: A

Medieval Woman between Demons and Saints (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2015), 58.
a reformist agenda upon the unwilling could, they realized, only have
negative consequences.
The influential reformer Johannes Busch (1399–1480) was keenly
aware of this, since he had been schooled in the ideals and aims of
Geert Grote (1340–1384), founder of a movement of general religious
renewal known as the Devotio Moderna, New Devotion. The Brothers
and Sisters of the Common Life as Grote’s earliest followers were
called, had been unwilling to accept a designation that would set them
apart from other pious lay men and women. They dressed simply but
did not wear a distinctive habit. They supported themselves by manual
labor and they made no irrevocable vows. They lived communally but
remained lay people subject to the secular courts. In other words, they
continued to embody the ideal of lay piety, attempting to transform
the mundane rather than retreat from it. The institutional structures
which supported their spiritual life were not prescribed by any monas-
tic rule.44
Almost from the first, the sisters not only predated the brothers
but also outnumbered them. Their first community was founded by
Grote himself and most of the subsequent foundations of the New
Devout were made for women – thirty-two houses of sisters in the
Netherlands by 1460, compared to eighteen occupied by the brethren.
Thanks to his early training as a canon lawyer, Geert Grote himself
recognized the legal vulnerability of these lay communities and on his
deathbed recommended that some of the brethren should adopt the
rule of an approved order.45 Florence Radewyns, his successor, sent
six of the brothers to a nearby monastery to learn the customs of the
Augustinian canons regular. In part to counter claims by their adver-
saries that the Brethren and Sisters of the Common Life were hostile to
taking vows of profession in approved monastic orders, and in part to
provide support for their more vulnerable and informally constituted
communities, they founded the monastery of Windesheim, north of
Deventer. It was here that Johannes Busch took his vows in 1419.

Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 116–118.
45 Johannes Busch, Chronicon Windeshemense Und Liber De Reformatione
Monasteriorum, ed. Karl Grube (Halle, 1886; repr. Farnborough, England:
Gregg International, 1968), 263.
As a professed member, and then prior, of Windesheim, Johannes

Busch was perfectly equipped to recognize the virtues of informal
expressions of reform piety while trying to inculcate similar expres-
sions in traditional monastic communities. It was a consequence of
this acceptance of both formal and informal pious communities, and
his willingness to champion reforms at all levels of the hierarchy of
secular clergy as well, that would allow him to be such an effective
force for Observant renewal: He was credited with having a hand in
the reform of no fewer than forty-three monasteries. So too, because
he was fully committed to the efficacy of formal, binding vows of
monastic profession for male and female regulars – the Windesheim
Congregation included sixteen houses of nuns by the close of the fif-
teenth century – he would be responsible for the successful return of
two of the apostate nuns we will shortly encounter.
Johannes Busch persuaded convents to alter their liturgical,
economic, and practical routines to conform to a reformist agenda
by inducing high-ranking princes and prelates to assist him; he
also convinced nuns from communities that had already accepted
Observant reforms to act as his agents of change in others. Nuns
from the reformed house of Derneburg, for instance, were installed
at Wienhausen when the abbess and convent refused to conform to
the rule of St. Benedict, as strictly interpreted by Busch. The nuns at
Neuwerk were tutored in the finer points of restored religious dis-
cipline by nuns from the reformed community of Heiningen, who
stayed with them for three years, and the abbess of the wealthy
Benedictine nunnery of Fischbeck welcomed nuns from a reformed
house into her community to serve as teachers as well.46
Johannes Busch would have success with nuns in other instances
too – he even persuaded more apostates to return – but entire com-
munities could and did resist him, sometimes with an obduracy
that forced him to settle for less than he had hoped to attain. Nor
was Johannes Busch alone in this regard. The most high-ranking of
reformist prelates, Cardinal Legate Nicolas Cusanus (d. 1464), strug-
gled with the abbess and nuns of Sonnenburg in the Tyrol, the wealth-
iest and most influential Benedictine house in the region, for six long
46 Lina Eckenstein, Woman Under Monasticism: Chapters on Saint-Lore and

Convent Life between A.D. 500 and A.D. 1500 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge
University Press, 1963), 415–417.
years, and his efforts to force the abbess of the Poor Clares at Brixen
to resign were thwarted by an appeal to Rome. Ultimately, Cusanus
was told to drop the matter and hand over any reform plans to the
Franciscans at Nürnberg, whom the nuns of Brixen found much more
congenial.47
Communities of religious women that resisted Observant reforms
most often did so because these reforms imposed strictures that the
nuns had never agreed to follow when they had entered their tradi-
tional, usually patrician, convents.48 Every statement of monastic
profession included the standard vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-
dience, but except for the vow of chastity, these statements were not
inelastic. The particular words spoken, precise interpretation of those
words, and the attendant rituals of profession as outlined in con-
stitutions and house charters, all reflected an order’s characteristic
vision of itself.49 That vision, in turn, was colored by the desires of
founders, patrons, and the families of the women who entered each
house. Consequently, when Johannes Busch told the elderly abbess of
Wienhausen that her house would henceforth be obliged to follow a
reformed rule, she replied: “I found this way of life kept in this mon-
astery forty years ago; this way have I served during as many years
and this way and not otherwise will I continue to serve.”50 Similarly,
the Cistercian nuns of Rechentshofen objected to proposed cloister-
ing on the grounds it went against the wishes of the founders, and the
Benedictine nuns of Rijnsburg claimed that even Cardinal Nicholas of
Cusa could not impose upon them a stricter rule than that which they
had followed “as far back as human memory could recall.”51
To successfully transform a community of women who had no
experience of, nor particular desire for, the strictures of rigorous
enclosure, absolute personal poverty, and austere fasting, required
that individual nuns who strenuously objected to such a reform pro-
gram be able to find alternative ways in which to live out their vowed
47 Eckenstein, Women under Monasticism, 423–425.

48 Winston-Allen, Convent Chronicles, 129–132.
49 Nancy Bradley Warren, Spiritual Economies: Female Monasticism in Later
Medieval England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001),
Chapters 1 and 2 deal with such distinctions among Benedictine, Francis-
can, and Bridgettine nuns.
50 Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 676.
51 Winston-Allen, Convent Chronicles, 137.
life. Using the power of their mandates, reformers sometimes facil-

itated the transfer of nuns like these from the houses in which they
had made their profession to less demanding communities. When
twenty-four nuns from the austere community of Foligno came to
the monastery of Monteluce of Perugia in 1488, several of the nuns
there refused to accept their strict observance and were permitted to
join the neighboring community of Santa Maria degli Angeli instead.52
So too, records of the Papal Penitentiary are full of licenses allowing
such transfers. In 1450 three professed Cistercian nuns of Mainz,
Mechlegen de Bebarden, Fia de Cultz, and Elsa de Lombostel claimed
that they could not in good conscience (cum animi quiete) remain
in their current community. They therefore begged Pope Nicholas V
to grant them license to transfer to another – any other – convent.53
Perhaps this trio was counting on the fact that by leaving the choice of
alternative housing up to the papacy, they stood a much better chance
of a favorable outcome; and in this they were correct. Other nuns who
could not tolerate wholesale restructuring of their lives, however,
could not wait to go through channels and so became, at least tempo-
rarily, apostates.
We might fault some – like the unnamed nun from the Dominican
convent of Kirchheim who simply climbed over the wall of the monas-
tery one day – with impatience, but other apostate nuns clearly strug-
gled with their consciences as well as with those attempting to reform
their houses.54 The Cistercian nun Mechtild de Mülhofen was one of
those. For over forty years, her petition to the papacy attested, she had
faithfully observed her vows in her monastery of the Virgin Mary Pons
Salutis, in the diocese of Speyer.55 Then, some Observant Dominican
nuns entered the community and introduced their reforms. While
some of her fellow sisters subsequently left the community, Mechtild
stayed because she wanted very much to try to live up to the rigorous
new standards, but at the age of fifty-six, it proved too much for her
and she petitioned her abbess for permission to transfer to another
house. Only when her petition was denied did Mechtild leave, with-
52 Lopez, Colette of Corbie, 387.

53 RPG II, Nicholas V 1447–1455, 392.
54 Winston-Allen, Convent Chronicles, 142.
55 Ludwig Schmugge, “Female Petitioners in the Papal Penitentiary,” Gender
& History 12 (2000), 691–692. RPG VI, 2314.
out permission, to stay with relatives. Once more, however, this time
pressured by her kin, she returned to Pons Salutis and tried to make
a go of it; she failed again. But it was only after her irritated abbess
“ignobly chastised her and even tore the veil from Mechtild’s head”
that she made a final unlicensed exit. She then sought, and received,
papal absolution of the excommunication incurred by her apostasy, as
well as permission to transfer to the Benedictine order.
Another compelling story of reluctant apostasy in reaction to the
rigors of reform was that of Anna Secclern and Elizabeth Hueberin,
both professed Augustinian nuns in the diocese of Konstanz. Their
petition to Pope Innocent VIII in 1490 explained that responding to
persuasion and reverential fear of parents and relatives, they professed
their vows and were received into the “elegant and splendid” (delic-
tum et splendid) monastery of Hirstall, where they remained for sev-
eral years.56 But then because of discord among the nuns an Observant
reform was instituted, the requirements of which were very harsh and
rigorous and not at all suited to Anna and Elizabeth. The pair rea-
soned that since they had vowed to live as nuns, but that they had
never vowed to live under a rule that was so much stricter, they would
not in good conscience be abandoning the vowed life if they left,
intending to find a more acceptable community in which to live it out.
Consequently, they had come in person to the Roman Curia, dressed
in their habits, petitioning for the right to transfer to another house
with a milder rule (mitiorem religionem), one in which they would be
kindly received.
Faced with this rather rare in-person appeal from a pair of nuns,
the pope decided to err on the side of caution. Anna and Elizabeth
were runaways, but not apostates, or not yet apostates, since they were
still wearing their habits. To ensure that they continued to do so, and
to avoid giving them “any occasion to become vagabonds,” they were
instructed to go to live with their parents or relatives, until a suita-
ble and religious community could be found to accept them. For the
duration, they were to continue to always wear their religious habits.
As an incentive to the relatives lodging them, the pope directed that
any goods, clothing or other valuables which the nuns had brought
with them when they entered Hirstall, and which they subsequently
left behind when they left the monastery, be returned.
56 RPG VII, Innocent VIII 1484–1492, 2150.

Not many cases of apostasy on the grounds of reforming zeal yield

this much detail. Inference has to suffice in reading petitions such
as that of the professed Franciscan nun, Barbara Lengin of St. Clare
monastery in the diocese of Würzburg, for whom life became untena-
ble. We have already seen that Colettine reform championed a lifestyle
very different in its particulars from that allowed Clarisses under the
Urbanist Rule. Barbara might have left illicitly and even cast off her
habit, but according to her 1464 petition, she did so because she could
no longer live in her community with a peaceful spirit, not because
she wanted to live a secular life.57 Indeed, Barbara asked for absolu-
tion from the sentence of excommunication incurred by her apos-
tasy along with license to transfer to another monastery, a Cistercian
house this time. Both parts of her petition were granted.
Zealous monastic reform, albeit resulting in something far differ-
ent from that engineered by Observants, preceded the dissolution of
the monasteries in England. And while pre-dissolution policies and
visitations paved the way for the demise of English nunneries, they
were well grounded in the same medieval canon law that had nor-
malized their institutional existence. Female religious were uniquely
affected by such pre-dissolution policies, the suppression of small
and/or derelict communities being the first of these. We have seen
that in the context of famine, war and plague, bishops had routinely
responded to the impoverishment or decimation of nunneries by
combining houses, or altogether eliminating them while making
alternative living arrangements for any displaced regulars. It was the
ruinous effect of plague on Worthorpe Priory that led the bishop of
Lincoln to annex it to the nearby nunnery of St. Michael, Stamford.
In England, at least since the mid-fifteenth century, this trend had
accelerated because of the desirability of transforming small and sup-
posedly defunct monasteries into the more fashionable academic col-
leges. For instance, in 1496 Bishop Alcock of Ely dissolved the Priory
of St. Radegund, Cambridge, a house of religious women. Through
“negligence and thoughtless and dissolute conduct and incontinence,
by reason of the closeness of the university of Cambridge of the pri-
oresses and religious women of the aforesaid house,” the priory had
become so dilapidated and diminished that the remaining two nuns
57 RPG IV, Pius II 1458–1464, 1730.

residing there could not support themselves. The pair was to be relo-
cated, the site cleared, and a college erected in its stead.58
As they moved toward suppression of all religious houses in
England, Cromwell and his commissioners deployed these traditional
measures, but they did so in unprecedented ways. It was because of
their procedural successes that the decade of the 1530s became one of
troubled consciences, blurred distinctions, and a severely challenged
and ultimately defunct monastic order. Given the long tradition of
episcopal intervention in the event that a monastery became destitute
or disreputable, the statute of 1536 suppressing small religious houses
with annual incomes of less than £200 might be seen as an ordinary
consolidation effort; that statute contained, however, an extraordinary
proviso. Professed monks and nuns within these communities were
to have dispensations or ‘capacities’ issued them. Consequently, by
authority of the Crown, disaffected female as well as male religious
were permitted to live a life extra claustrum, while avoiding the charge
of canonical apostasy. It was as much because these dispensations
were gender-neutral as that it was the king and not the pope who
issued them, that made them so revolutionary. The consequences of
their deployment for nuns was profound.
As we already know, by the final decades of the fourteenth century
male professed religious had been able to leave the monastic life yet
avoid apostasy by means of papal dispensations in substance no differ-
ent from that used by Cromwell. Largely a consequence of the increas-
ingly materialistic and bureaucratic tendencies of the Avignon papacy,
compounded by the rivalry for support during the Great Schism,
hundreds of privileges were granted to individual monk-petitioners
to hold benefices – positions in the Church, including rectorship of
parish churches and membership in cathedral chapters, which had an
endowed income attached to them. Notwithstanding a decree by the
Third Lateran Council (1179), along with English legatine restrictions
against monks serving parish churches, the practice was definitely
common enough in England as well as on the Continent.59 And these
grants were issued with greater frequency throughout the fourteenth
58 Martin Heale, Monasticism in Late Medieval England, c. 1300–1535 (Man-

chester and New York: Manchester University Press, 2009), 166–167.
59 Alfred H. Sweet, “Papal Privileges Granted to Individual Religious,” Spec-
ulum 31, no. 4 (1956), 602–10.
and fifteenth centuries – Pope Eugenius IV issuing sixty-one, Nicholas

V seventy, and Pius II (1458–64) ninety.60 The dispensation allowed
such men to leave their monasteries, and to live as secular priests for
life, free from the authority of abbot or prior and free to hold property.
Although they would have to remain chaste, they were no longer reg-
ulars, and as ‘exclaustrated’ monks they were subject neither to their
vows of obedience nor poverty.61 The grant to a Benedictine monk by
Pope Paul II, in 1468, is a typical example.
To John Stangrond alias Bailand, a monk of St. John’s,

Colchester, O.S.B., in the diocese of London. Dispensation to
receive and retain for life any benefice with cure, wont to be
governed by secular clerks, even if it be a parish church or its
perpetual vicarage, or a chantry, or annual service, or a free
chapel, or a hospital wont to be assigned to the same clerks as
a title of a perpetual benefice, [and be of lay patronage], and to
resign it, simply or for exchange, as often as he pleases.62
By being granted a benefice, male members of religious orders could

live as secular priests, rather than as monks, free from vows of poverty
(receiving income from the property) and obedience to a monastic
superior (as a rector or a vicar, a beneficed monk was subject only
to the bishop). They could not be recalled to their monasteries after
receiving such dispensation and left the way of life with which they
had become discontent without becoming apostates. Since women
could not be ordained priests, the discontented nun had never had
such an option; beginning in 1534, she did.
Domesticating the dispensation process, legislation in that year
mandated that capacities formerly sought from Rome would hence-
forth be issued by the king’s authority through the archbishop of
Canterbury, and that English subjects were forbidden to seek them
from the pope. In short order, Archbishop Cranmer’s Faculty Office
60 David Knowles, The Religious Orders in England, vol. 2 (Cambridge, UK:

Cambridge University Press, 1959), 172.
61 Logan, Runaway Religious, 157. Fra Filippo Lippi, as we saw in the previous
chapter, obviously felt himself freed from the vow of chastity as well.
62 CPL 12 667, 627–633.
dispensed several monks to live as secular priests and then devised a

form of the dispensation to offer to professed nuns as well. It allowed
them to live in the world, without habit or veil, albeit chastely and
as a celibate woman. “The earliest such reference is to Prioress Alice
Cranmer and ten nuns of Minster Thanet in Kent, who were dispensed
‘to go into the world and there, from henceforth, to live without the
veil and habit of their religious profession.’”63 Were those who took
advantage of this dispensation apostates?
It would be foolish to think of them as such in anything but the
most technical sense of the term. Granted, the king and not the pope
was the issuing authority, but royal authority had been uniformly sub-
stituted for papal in the national Church. And not only were these
dispensations close at hand, they also were offered by commissioners
whose aim was to have them speedily and readily accepted. The men
who came to ‘visit’ the monasteries in 1535–1536 had little sympathy
for any nun who wished to continue in her “bondage.” In the words of
one royal commissioner, Dr. Thomas Legh, the nuns at Denny Abbey
“were better to be at large and dismissed from their bondage than
so unreligiously remain against their conscience.” Legh’s colleague,
ApRice, added:
Though it were well done that all were out, yet to avoid calumny
it were well they were dismissed upon their own suit. They will
all do this if they are compelled to observe these injunctions,
and the people shall know it the better that it cometh upon their
own suit that they be not straight discharged while we are here;
for then the people will say that we came for no other cause
except to expel them.64
When even the overseers of monastic dissolution were unsure of

precise procedure, many nuns must have questioned the need for
any dispensation. How could the inconsistency and insecurity of the

64 Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII, Pre-
served in the Public Record Office, the British Museum, and Elsewhere,
ed. J. S. Brewer, Robert Henry Brodie, and James Gairdner (London:
Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1886; repr. Vaduz: Kraus Reprint, 1965),
9:231–248.
times not affect those who were neither politicians nor theologians,
but young women? Such were Jane Gowrying, Frances Somer Mary
Philbeam, and Barbara Lark, all professed nuns in their twenties who,
in 1535, had just taken off their habits, put on secular clothes, and
left their London house of Poor Clares. All were cited as wandering
about in secular clothes, without benefit of any dispensation, royal or
otherwise.65
Then there were those nuns who wanted to remain true to their
professions and to their communities, but who could not. In the first
decades of a newly riven Christian Europe, we find more than one
sadly ironic example of forced ‘apostasy.’ From the monastery of St.
Nicholas-in-Undis, Strasbourg, Anna Wurm wrote to her brother not
to follow through on his decision to remove her from the cloister: “I
am in a good, pious, blessed, honorable, free, spiritual estate, wherein
both my body and soul are well cared for … I want to stay here …
I have never asked you to take me out of the cloister, and I am not
asking you to do so now.”66 She was removed despite her best efforts,
in 1525. So too, three nuns of the Poor Clare community of Nuremberg
were physically dragged out of the cloister by their relatives, an epi-
sode described in painful detail by the abbess of that community,
Caritas Pirckheimer (1467–1532).67 It is fitting to note that Caritas her-
self lived out her life in the depleted and doomed monastery, but only
because of her valiant resistance to mandates from city officials and
church leaders combined.
At this stage in our survey of runaway nuns one thing, and perhaps
one thing only, can be said with certainty: professed nuns became
apostates for myriad reasons. Unfortunately, as that consummate
historian of medieval English apostates Donald Logan reminds us,
motives are the most intractable arena for historical exploration.
No area of past human conduct presents such difficulties for

the historian as individual human motivation. The difficulties
in understanding the motivation of one’s own contemporar-
ies and, indeed, even of one’s self, are greatly compounded
here by the distances of time and the exiguity of sources …

66 Silvia Evangelisti, Nuns (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 34–35.
67 Ibid, 35.
What impelled a specific Cistercian monk to flee his monastery

in remotest Yorkshire on a winter’s night or what impelled a
specific nun to flee her nunnery in Sussex ten years after her
profession – we may never know with the degree of historical
certitude with which we know broader policies of the church or
religious orders.68
In the cases presented so far, motives do sometimes emerge – an

unhappy nun discovers that she was sent to the convent merely to
be deprived of her birthright, another has a passionate encounter
that awakens her sexual desires, another cannot endure the stigma
of pregnancy, or a superior’s arbitrary use of force to reform or to
punish. Dislocation occasioned by war, disease, and, in the waning
days of monasticism in England, unprecedented uncertainty about
the future and the ease of egress in the present, all these things could
and did trigger apostasy. Nor can that besetting curse of monastic life,
accidia [acedia], be disregarded as a factor in the flight of some pro-
fessed nuns.
This terrible ennui and melancholy so well-known and inveigled
against by spiritual counselors since the beginnings of monasticism,
has never been better described than by the fourth-century cenobite,
St. John Cassian.
Our sixth combat is with what the Greeks call a0khdi/a, which
we may term weariness or distress of heart. This is akin to dejec-
tion, and is especially trying to solitaires, and a dangerous and
frequent foe to dwellers in the desert; and especially disturbing
to a monk about the sixth hour, like some fever which seizes
him at stated times, bringing the burning heat of its attacks
on the sick man at usual and regular hours. Lastly, there are
some of the elders who declare that this is the “midday demon”
spoken of in the ninetieth Psalm. And when this has taken pos-
session of some unhappy soul, it produces dislike of the place,
disgust with the cell, and disdain and contempt of the brethren
who dwell with him or at a little distance, as if they were careless
or unspiritual. It also makes the man lazy and sluggish about all
manner of work which has to be done within the enclosure of

his dormitory. It does not suffer him to stay in his cell, or to take
any pains about reading, and he often groans because he can do
no good while he stays there, and complains and sighs because
he can bear no spiritual fruit so long as he is joined to that
society; and he complains that he is cut off from spiritual gain,
and is of no use in the place, as if he were one who, though he
could govern others and be useful to a great number of people,
yet was edifying none, nor profiling any one by his teaching
and doctrine. He cries up distant monasteries and those which
are a long way off and describes such places as more profitable
and better suited for salvation; and besides this he paints the
intercourse with the brethren there as sweet and full of spiritual
life. On the other hand, he says that everything about him is
rough, and not only that there is nothing edifying among the
brethren who are stopping there, but also that even food for
the body cannot be procured without great difficulty. Lastly,
he fancies that he will never be well while he stays in that place,
unless he leaves his cell (in which he is sure to die if he stops in
it any longer) and takes himself off from thence as quickly as
possible. Then the fifth or sixth hour brings him such bodily
weariness and longing for food that he seems to himself worn
out and wearied as if with a long journey, or some very heavy
work, or as if he had put off taking food during a fast of two or
three days.69
Who might not be tempted to reject a way of life that had become
a dull, repetitive and empty formality? No matter how freely a girl
or woman might have taken up the ‘light burden’ of monastic life,
there was no guarantee that her resolve would endure, and more than
one nun might have been driven to apostasy almost solely by “the
destruction that wasteth at noonday.” In the end, the motives of many
medieval female apostates must remain little more than informed
conjectures; their actions, however, and the consequences of their
69 A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Church Sec-
ond Series, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Eerdmans, 1979), 11: 267–275. In
addition to this lengthy discussion in Book X of The Twelve Books on the
Institutes of the Cœnobia, and the Remedies for the Eight Principal Faults,
accidia is treated again by Cassian in The Conferences, Book V, Chapter 3.
actions, can be more securely documented and commented upon. We

may never know exactly why a woman chose to abandon religious life,
but we can know if, and when, she chose to return to it. We can also
get a reasonably sound idea of the nature and duration of the penance
imposed upon returning apostates, and of the warmth, or coldness, of
the reception they got from community members and superiors, most
of whom had never strayed. All these things will be treated in the next
chapters.
Part III
Prodigals Return
Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way
back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and
dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might
mean. The servant said to him, “Your brother has returned and
your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him
back safe and sound.” He became angry, and when he refused
to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him.
He said to his father in reply, “Look, all these years I served you
and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me
even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son
returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him
you slaughter the fattened calf.”
Luke 15:25–30
5
Penitents and Penalties
Abraham, a play by the tenth-century canoness Hrotsvit of Ganders

heim, is the story of the fall and repentance of the wayward anchor-
ess, Mary. Prompted by her uncle and spiritual father, the hermit
Abraham, Mary enters her anchor-hold at the tender age of seven.
Twenty years of model behavior follow, but when she is seduced
by a false monk she runs away and despairing because of her lost
virginity, prostitutes herself. The catalyst for her early dedication to
God, Abraham remains steadfast in his resolve to return Mary to His
service. Having failed to engineer it at a remove, he forces himself to
leave the peace of his hermitage, travel to a teeming city, and even
enter a brothel disguised as a potential client, in order to do so. Mary
is overwhelmed by his devotion and Abraham is rewarded with her
penitent promise, made as she is led back to her cell, “Out of my own
free will I shall remain contrite, I shall persist in my penance with all
my might, and even if I lose the ability to perform the act, the will to
it shall never lack. Let us return and hurry our way, let us hurry, I am
weary of delay.”1
Like Mary, some apostate nuns actually welcomed return to their
monasteries. After years spent wrestling with an uneasy conscience,
a prodigal might cooperate fully with efforts to bring her back to her
community. When a repentant runaway found herself at a considera-
ble distance from that community, an effort akin to Abraham’s might
be required to effect it. In Johannes Busch’s long, detailed, mildly
amusing and blatantly self-congratulatory account of one such return,
the journey appears to have been more daunting for the shepherd than
1
Hrotsvitha, The Plays of Hrotsvit of Gandersheim, ed. Katharina M. Wil-
son (New York: Garland Publishing, 1989), 89.
for the lost sheep.2 A detailed summary of this narrative follows, since
it contains observations about the reintegration of penitent apostates
relevant in a number of other cases.
Gertude Gensen, a young well-born nun from the Augustinian
house of Marienwerder, just north of Hanover, fled her monastery in
the middle of the night. Donning secular clothes of the same sort she
used to wear at home in her castle, and leaving her habit behind in the
choir, she traveled far; first through Westphalia and then all the way to
Deventer in Utrecht. Once there, however, she had a change of heart.
Meeting some devout women attached to the Windesheim congrega-
tion, she admitted that she was an apostate nun from Marienwerder
and expressed her desire to return if she could only find a way to do
so. One of the women allowed Gertrude to stay in her house for a few
months, until the scheduled chapter meeting at Widesheim. She rea-
soned that the canons from Saxony who would come for the meeting
could help Gertrude to return to her own monastery. Johannes Busch,
at that time prior of Sülte, was among those attending the chapter
meeting: however, on this occasion he had come alone, in a modest
wagon drawn by two horses. Regardless of the fact that this might
make for an awkward travel situation, he was immediately asked to
take Gertrude with him and return her to Saxony, first by two broth-
ers attached to the nunnery of Diepenvene, then by the confessor of
the Deventer beguines, and finally by the woman who was sheltering
Gertrude as well as all the other brothers and sisters who were with
her.
Even after the devout women with whom Gertrude had been stay-
ing assured him that the wayward Gertrude was not pregnant, and was
in fact still a virgin, Busch remained most unwilling to take her with
him. After all, he kept protesting, he was travelling alone, and she was
young, not even thirty years old. But his Windesheim brethren were
adamant, as well as importunate. Returning a lost sheep to the fold
was a good work of such magnitude, they said, that it should not be
shirked out of concern for what people might think; it was God’s work
that involved an endangered soul. Chastened, Busch finally acqui-
esced, and made preparations to set off to Saxony with his charge.
2
Johannes Busch, Chronicon Windeshemense Und Liber De Reformatione
Gregg International, 1968), 664–669.
penitents and penalties 139
Gertrude sat a little behind him in the wagon, since she needed
space for the clothes and jewels she had brought with her, and when
they arrived for their first night’s stay Busch made sure not only that
she sat at the head of the table for dinner, as befitted her social status,
but also that she had a private room, as befitted her status as a virgin.
Indeed, he says that if he could not have secured a private room he
would have gone off to sleep elsewhere, “because holy virginity is a pre-
cious treasure, a thing with which nothing in the world can compare.”
The need to make proper sleeping arrangements for Gertude at each
stop along the way home is a recurring theme in the narrative and the
confrontation Busch next relates underscores the rationale for such
repetition. While settling his charge with some nuns at Vreensweghen
the next day, he encountered Egbert, rector of the Deventer congrega-
tion, and Albert, rector at Zvolle, who were on their way to a chapter
meeting in Munster. Egbert reported that Dom Albert had privately
told him that “It would be unconscionable for a man of religion to
accompany a nun alone on such a long journey, were that man not
Johannes Busch.” Then he had added the exclamation, “Lord create in
me a pure heart!”
When they reached Munster, Gertrude was ensconced in a house
of nuns while Busch made plans to dine and spend the evening with
the master of the canons of St. Martin, the former rector of the school
at Hildesheim. But when the master’s sister heard that he had a Saxon
nun in his charge, she insisted that he send for her so that they could
all dine together – alternative, and precise, sleeping arrangements
were then made, Gertrude’s bed being in the room of “the old and
devote virgin sister.” At their next stop, the Cistercian monastery of
Marienvelde, Busch again met with incredulity at his daring feat of
pastoral care. The old abbot, Henric Haghen, told him that he would
not do what Busch was doing even for a hundred florins, since there
would be a general outcry if he were to be the sole companion of a
nun for such a long journey; no one, however, had any evil suspi-
cions about Busch. “I did not in fact have a single temptation on this
whole journey,” Busch informs his readers at this point, “and felt only
great compassion for her. And as others told me later she herself said
that she would have not have believed this possible for any man in
the world save that her experience with Father Johnnes of Sülte had
taught her it could happen.”
Both parties would be tested on a less lofty plane, however, when

having traveled about a quarter mile toward their next stop, the city
of Bylvelde, one of the traces on the wagon broke. Luckily, they were
accompanied on this leg of the journey by Abbot Haghen’s brother, a
“good, devote, and hard-working man” well-known to Johannes, since
he had personally invested him as a conversus years earlier. Since the
road was rutted and muddy, Busch asked the lay brother to go ahead
with the cart by an alternative road while he and Gertrude stayed on
the well-trodden path, adding that whoever got to the nearest fortifi-
cation should wait for the others.
But when the pair made it up an incline to the fort, they heard
that the conversus had gone ahead without them. For more than
a mile, through dense forest, Johannes and Gertrude struggled on
alone, Gertrude in tears saying that she couldn’t go on anymore.
They trudged along anyway, asking those they met if they had seen
their wagon. People said that it had passed by, so after Gertrude –
who insisted that she was too weak to continue – had rallied, they
went on their way again. Meanwhile, the lay brother had reached a
tavern where he left the cart, and taking one of the horses went back
to look for them. When the companions finally found one another,
the trio continued to Molenbeke, averting yet another crisis when the
cart almost overturned. Once Gertrude was housed with some sisters
there, and after she had rested, Busch announced that since they were
so close to returning her to her monastery it would be a good time
for her to make her confession. Having incurred excommunication
for her apostasy she also needed to be absolved of this sentence, and
Busch, acting with papal authorization, did so, “restoring her to Holy
Mother Church and enjoining salutary penance upon her.”
The next day, the three made their way to Fischbeck in the diocese
of Minden, Saxony. Busch left Gertrude and the lay brother just out-
side the town with the carriage, while he went on to the Augustinian
nunnery – a community that he himself had been responsible for
reforming – to see the abbess. Since she was not then at home, he
called on the nun next in rank and told her that he had brought an
apostate with him all the way from Deventer, and asked her to take
that penitent to the abbess. At first, the nun said no because the abbess
had already accepted many such (quod tales plures iam suscepisset),
but when Busch suggested that she should not refuse him since he had
done much good for the convent in the past, she relented. Returning
to Gertrude, he said that the abbess had consented to receive her but
that first she had to exchange her secular garb for her nun’s crown and
simple tunic, which she did with a great show of modesty. Greeted by
an elderly nun from the community, Gertrude went into the mon-
astery. Apparently, Busch’s reminder that the community owed him
a favor was not lost on the nuns who took Gertrude in. Ultimately,
and with the blessing of Busch’s most influential lay supporter, Duke
William of Brunswick, Gertrude never went the eight miles further
to her former monastery; at the request of the Fischbeck sisters, she
remained there, as a fully professed nun, devoting herself to her com-
munity by serving as infirmarian.
Busch’s story is more than a tale of repentance and return. It is
crafted with particular care, underscoring those elements that would
have had special importance for his largely clerical, reform-oriented
readers – his descriptions of Gertrude’s sleeping arrangements, for
instance, his own unblemished reputation (as attested by himself
and others), and his extraordinary pastoral powers, granted by papal
mandate. Other aspects of this story have special importance for us.
Gertrude’s tale illustrates that there were more than a few ways for
apostate nuns to begin the process of reintegration into religious life;
it also highlights the fact that repentance was just the first, and some-
times the easiest, step.
We have already read about repentant apostates like Barbara
Seckendorfferin, the Premonstratensian nun from Sulz, Barbara
Kespenbach and Margaretha Horim, both of Constance, and others
who had begun their journey back to religious life by petitioning
the Papal Penitentiary for readmission to their former convents.
Katherine Thornyf, apostate from the Cistercian priory of Wykeham,
Yorkshire, on the other hand, had first approached Archbishop Kemp
for the same purpose. Other penitents whom we will meet in this
chapter started by contacting, or being contacted by, their local ordi-
naries, be they bishops or abbots or priors. Gertude Gensen, however,
had begun by divulging her apostasy to some pious laywomen, who
just happened to know that the prior-cum-reformer, Johannes Busch,
was in the vicinity.
But if her story shows us that there was no standard mechanism
for beginning the return journey, Gertrude’s next steps prove that
spontaneous outpourings of remorse were insufficient to bring that
journey to a successful conclusion. In order to be forgiven, the sin
of apostasy like all serious sin required a penitent’s contrition, but

unlike other serious sins, not all priests were empowered to absolve it.
Absolution from apostasy and the penalty of excommunication that it
carried were reserved to the papacy or an agent to whom that power
had been extended. Bishops were routinely so empowered. Abbots
and priors might have that right as well, but only by virtue of a special
privilege, as for example the papal bull Pastor bonus. It was Gertrude
Gensen’s good fortune to find in Johannes Busch a prior who, as papal
legate, had the dual right to absolve her of sin and to expunge her sen-
tence of excommunication.
Not many contrite apostates would have a papal legate like Busch
at hand to absolve them, but more than a few would have found the
frosty reception accorded him by the nuns of Fischbeck all too famil-
iar. Even when the way back was paved by an advocate as amazingly
well respected as Johannes Busch, reintegration of an apostate was
seldom easy. Like Gertrude, other returning nuns might have their
hopes to renew ties to their former communities sorely tested, or even
dashed – recall that although Gertrude returned to religious life she
did not return to it at Marienwerder. Driven by guilt, worn down
by trials in the outside world, or spurred into action by tragedy or
fear, apostates might want to return but their fellow religious were
not always sure that they wanted them back. Members of the com-
munity to which a penitent wished to return, nuns who had remained
steadfast in their commitment to the religious life and who had never
wavered in their vows, might feel resentment similar to that expressed
by the Prodigal Son’s elder brother. They might, in turn, make any
possibility of a joyous homecoming difficult, or even impossible.
Barriers to community assimilation of apostate nuns are most obvi-
ous in cases in which the pope and local ordinaries had to intervene
to produce some reasonable, if not ideal, outcome for penitent and
fellow nuns alike. Reintegration of an apostate often required delicate
and far from trouble-free negotiation with former superiors and com-
munity members alike.
We have, for example, the case of Suor Paolina di Cola di Luca,
who petitioned the pope in 1492 not only for absolution for her sin of
apostasy but also for the opportunity to find a home again.3 Having
3
Filippo Tamburini, Santi E Peccatori : Confessioni E Suppliche Dai Reg-
istri Della Penitenzieria Dell’Archivio Segreto Vaticano (1451–1586), “Il
“abandoned her modesty and her religious habit,” Paolina had fled
the Poor Clare monastery of San Lorenzo in Panisperna, Rome, where
she had made her profession. She had lived “for a long time” in the
world before finally having a change of heart and deciding to return to
the vowed life, within the community of San Lorenzo. But this deci-
sion was proving very difficult to effect since her co-religious objected
to Paolina’s return and refused to receive her. Even her immediate
superior had neglected to intervene or try to find another monastery
willing to accommodate her. Consequently, Paolina asked the pope
for a special dispensation, namely, that she be granted permission to
remain “in some honest home, wearing her religious habit, and living
out her vows according to the institutes of her order.” The Penitentiary
issued such a dispensation.
The registers of Philip Repingdon, bishop of Lincoln from 1405–
1419, give us more detailed information about another instance of
a reluctant reception, and they even include mention of the conse-
quences for a religious superior who chose to be complicit. In June
1414, the bishop ordered the prioress of the Augustinian convent of
Rothwell to readmit Joan Horncastle, demanding that the prioress
also respond to a contempt citation for having previously disobeyed
his instructions in the matter.4 As bishop of Lincoln, Repingdon had
a geographically far-flung diocese, which he nevertheless actively and
conscientiously administered personally or via a core of select agents
whom he commissioned because of their legal and administrative
expertise. Fully a year earlier, while Repingdon was about one of his
diocesan visitations, Joan Horncastle had been brought before him
in the parish of Conyngesby.5 A professed canoness from Rothwell
Priory, Joan confessed that she had become an apostate, leaving
behind her habit and rejecting her vows entirely, and that, persuaded
by the devil, had lived wickedly unremorseful for three years with
a certain William Luffewyk. With bitter tears she had begged the
bishop to forgive her and set her a penance for the good of her soul.
Sestante” (Milan: Istituto di propaganda libraria, 1995), # 38 187.

4
The Register of Bishop Philip Repingdon, 1405–1419, ed. Margaret Archer,
3:6–7, # 15.
5
Ibid, 2:361.
The bishop judged that Joan was indeed genuinely sorry for her grave
offense. Consequently, he absolved her from the sentence of excom-
munication incurred by apostasy, and assigned her condign penance
as demanded by canon law. That penance was to be performed within
the confines of Rothwell Priory, and he had remanded her to the pri-
oress there, firmly enjoining her to readmit Joan Horncastle to atone
for her sin.
The bishop’s letter was sent, but the prioress clearly disregarded its
intent: that Joan be confined within cloister walls to live out her peni-
tential life. Instead, within a day after her return to the priory, she had
been allowed to go out freely, and so tempted, had left again “for dis-
tant places;” furthermore, she had stayed away. An entire year passed
before Repingdon learned of the insubordination of the prioress and
the consequent repeated apostasy of Joan. As was his duty, he sought
Joan out and sent her back to Rothwell to serve out a penance made
more rigorous by the neglect of the prioress. Then he dealt with the
prioress herself, unable, as he put it, to leave her previous negligence
and disobedience unpunished. She was ordered to appear before the
bishop’s official, either Thomas Brous, or David Pryce, when they
next held commissary court in the church of Buckden – a traditional
episcopal residence and one often used by Repingdon.6 Both of these
officials were trusted and competent canons of the Lincoln cathedral
chapter, members who formed Bishop Repingdon’s inner circle and
whose legal and administrative experience was distinctive.7 Since the
prioress would be obliged to answer the charge of contempt occa-
sioned by failure to perform her duty before a doctor and a bachelor
of laws, Brous and Pryce respectively, it was more than a gesture of
disapproval.
Unfortunately, existing runs of cause papers for the Lincoln com-
missary court postdate her scheduled appearance, so we do not know
what penalty was imposed on the prioress.8 Her motives too, remain
6
“Parishes: Buckden,” in A History of the County of Huntingdon, vol. 2, ed.
William Page, Granville Proby and S Inskip Ladds (London: VCH, 1932),
260–269, at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/hunts/vol2/pp260-269
[accessed 26 August 2015].
7
Register of Bishop Philip Repingdon, 1xx.
8
Charles Donahue and Working Group on Church Court Records, The
Records of Medieval Ecclesiastical Courts, I: The Continent, and II: England
(Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1989–1994), 2:175.
unclear. Did she allow Joan to leave the confines of Rothwell cloister
a second time because this woman posed a threat to the rest of the
nuns under her care? By balking at Repingdon’s directive to readmit
a woman who had spent over three years living with her lover, had
she acted to uphold the moral tone of her community, “to preserve
her flock from contagion?”9 Joan had convinced Bishop Repingdon
of her penitence with her tears, but hadn’t the skepticism of the pri-
oress been shown to have merit? Hadn’t Joan leapt at the opportu-
nity to flee a second time? Or perhaps the prioress wearily knew that
while the bishop could direct her to confine a sinner, she and her sis-
ters would have to execute that directive daily, deploying resources
of both time and energy if the penitent proved intractable in the long
run. Whatever her motives, the prioress in this case was definitely not
alone in her quandary.
Numbered among those who fled their houses were undoubt-

edly troublemakers, whose absence was not lamented by their
community and whose departure was greeted with relief. When
they reappeared at the monastic gates, avowing contrition and
promising amendment of their ways, many a superior, his ide-
alism tempered by healthy cynicism, sent the returning apostate
away, judging the peace of the house preferable to the doubtful
conversion of a single member. And, in any case, if they fol-
lowed the rule of St Benedict, they would feel no obligation to
readmit a returning apostate more than three times.10
If St. Benedict himself had limited the number of times an apostate

might be readmitted, could superiors like the prioress of Rothwell not
have a legitimate basis for their reluctance to take back an apostate
about whose character they harbored serious suspicions? Were heads
of houses acting contrary to the canon law by refusing to readmit a
wayward member?
Monastic superiors in this period who balked at episcopal orders
to readmit an apostate to their community might in fact find some
9
and Tannen, 1922; 1964), 445.
10
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 136–137.
support for their position; they could even cite canonical commen-
tary that justified their reservations. We have already established that
legislation dealing with the reintegration of apostates, like that which
outlined canonical policy for compelling their return, had been sys-
tematically organized by the middle of the fourteenth century, but
it remained for commentators on the canons to explicate the laws.
Commentary provided guidance for those charged with implement-
ing the decrees of popes and councils in their own dioceses, and some-
times in strained circumstances. It was up to academic commentators
then to expand upon bare-bones directives, like the ones contained in
Gregory IX’s crucial decretal Ne religiosi vagandi. In his decree, Pope
Gregory underscored the obligation of religious superiors to conduct
annual and vigorous searches for professed members who had aban-
doned their communities, and under pain of their own excommunica-
tion to readmit them once returned. But Gregory IX’s demands were
followed by the words salva ordinis disciplina, “saving the discipline
of the order.”
Working on the well-founded assumption that some returning
apostates might so disrupt the good order of their monasteries that
regular life might be compromised, the Benedictine Rule, as noted,
had prescribed that apostates be allowed to return no more than
three times. Outstanding legal commentators like Hostiensis (d. 1271),
Joannes Andreae (d. 1348), Antonio de Butrio (d. 1408) and Nicholas
de Tudeschi (d. 1445), fleshed out the implications of St. Benedict’s
prescription for the decree Ne religiosi vagandi. Hostiensis averred
that if it should happen that all the members of a religious commu-
nity decided that they would rather all leave that community than live
with a returning apostate, that house would be excused from read-
mitting the prodigal. Later glossators reiterated Hostiensis’ opinion
and Antionio de Burtrio went even further; he buttressed the theoret-
ical with the actual. In a recent case, de Burtrio said, all the nuns of a
Florentine convent simply refused to remain within the walls of their
monastery if a certain apostate nun, formerly one of their community,
was compelled to be readmitted.11
Johannes Andreae added his approval to the position held by these
two glossators, and, ever practical, appended a discussion of the fate of
the rejected religious. As a professed regular, the monk or nun could
Ibid, 122–123.
11
not be left standing outside the gates. Refused admittance to his or her
former community, the prodigal could not be left to roam the world
lest scandal ensue. The exiled regular would have to be found a place
in another house. In a down-to-earth way, Johannes Andreae there-
fore concluded his comments with some speculations about which
monastery – the apostate’s original home or that of his or her exile
– would be legally responsible for the individual’s upkeep. He con-
cluded that the motherhouse, the relict’s former community, should
bear that financial burden.12
We can assume that sometimes the head of a motherhouse, like the
prioress of Rothwell, might even welcome that fiscal burden, seeing
it as a fitting price to pay for communal peace. And those superiors
would certainly welcome the comments of yet another jurist, Nicholas
de Tudeschi, who put the matter squarely, and in language that the
prioress and other superiors would definitely have understood. There
are certain cases, he said, in which fugitives ought not be received
again into their communities. According to the Rule of St. Benedict,
the house from which they had fled was not allowed to readmit them
more than three times. In order to avoid vagrancy and scandal, how-
ever, a community might place the fugitive religious in another nearby
house, providing for his upkeep, or they might lodge him away from
the rest of the community, in a workroom/prison, or in solitary con-
finement (in arco loco ut in ergastulo seu in arca camera).13
Ultimately, both the options proposed by Nicholas de Tudeschi
for reintegration of a recidivist or otherwise troublesome apostate
would have posed difficulties for monastic superiors, whether male
or female. However, recent studies in the spirituality of late medieval
nuns as it was mirrored in the endowments on which they survived,
and the very buildings in which they lived in, indicate that both these
canonical directives might have proven uniquely challenging for heads
of female houses to implement. Naturally, if the finances of a mother-
12
GO to X 3.31.24. Corpus juris canonici emendatum et notis illustratum.
Gregorii XIII. pont. max. iussu editum (Romae: In aedibus Populi Rom-
ani, 1582), 3 parts in 4 volumes. Electronic edition: UCLA Digital Library
Program, Corpus Juris Canonici (1582), at http://digital.library.ucla.edu/
canonlaw [accessed 22 March 2019].
13
Nicolas de Tudeschi, Lectura super quinque libros Decretalium (Venice,
1492), III:clii. Bayerische StaatsBibliothek MDZ Munchener Digitalisi-
erungsZentrum Digitale Bibliottheck.
house, the community from which an apostate had fled, were already
tenuous, paying another house to take in, and then provide bed and
board for, a prodigal would be very difficult. But for many nunneries
across Europe, slender resources – endowments meant to establish no
more than sufficiency – far from being lamented, were actually desira-
ble reflections of the apostolic spirt of renunciation that the nuns had
vowed to live out. The self-denying ideal of that ‘privilege of poverty,’
requested of the papacy by Clare of Assisi for her Poor Ladies of San
Damiano, continued to resonate for late medieval nuns, and not only
of the mendicant orders. For example, Roberta Gilchrist and Marilyn
Oliva, studying female houses in late medieval East Anglia, suggest
that relative communal poverty was achieved by design rather than,
as has often been suggested, by mismanagement of limited resources.
Poverty and isolation, therefore, were not necessarily consid-

ered negative attributes by patrons of female monasticism.
Women’s religious houses were founded on marginal land or
outside town walls not simply as a reflection of their founders’
finances, or as previous historians have suggested, because nuns
were valued less by society than monks and canons. Rather,
female monastic sites reflected the nature of the piety expressed
within and by the houses. Located at the physical and psycho-
logical fringes of medieval society, these monasteries for women
represented poverty and physical separation from society, both
vital aspects of female piety.14
In a similar way, the plain, unadorned simplicity of female monastic

architecture often reflected ideals of asceticism and poverty, as doc-
umented in pioneering regional, archeologically based, studies such
as those conducted of Cistercian nunneries in France, Germany, and
the Low Countries.15 Speaking of the foundation of new convents in
thirteenth-century Champagne, Anne Lester aptly describes the phe-
nomenon. The majority of Cistercian convents in Champagne were
14
Roberta Gilchrist and Marilyn Oliva, Religious Women in Medieval East
Anglia History and Archaeology c1100–1540 (Norwich: Centre of East Ang-
lian Studies, University of East Anglia, 1993), 25.
15
Cistercian Nuns and Their World, ed. Meredith Parsons Lillich, Studies in
Cistercian Art and Architecture 6 (Kalamazoo, MI: Liturgical Press, 2005).
places where one went to be humbled, to renounce one’s former

status in the world, and to be transformed. It was in the physical fabric
of the Cistercian houses that the apostolic ideal of poverty persisted
in its studied simplicity. The small buildings and chapels, which often
accommodated no more than twenty professed nuns, were not meant
to be places that glorified God in a precious opulence, but rather were
deliberately left as places where one might encounter Christ. They
retained their quality as mangers, granges and hospices for the poor
and sick, embellished perhaps by the occasional lancet window and
flash of color, hard won from the alms of the faithful.16
Whether attempting to financially support an unwelcome return-
ing member of their community in another nunnery or following the
second canonical option of confining the said member within the
motherhouse, heads of female houses might be harder pressed than
their male counterparts because of material, as well as spiritual, con-
siderations. Judging from structural remains examined in Gilchrist’s,
Gender and Material Culture, nunneries might depart from prototyp-
ical monastic building plans, favoring secular manor house models
suitable to the gentry. While these models would accommodate ordi-
nary domestic arrangements and service activities such as brewing and
baking – activities that were emphasized more and more at the close of
the Middle Ages – the buildings themselves would hardly have served
to ensure limited exposure of the community to a single detainee.17
The developed canon law and commentary was not dismissive of
harsh realities and practical considerations like these. Jurists therefore
tried to deal with them by integrating, but also adding to, the teach-
ing of St. Benedict on the matter of returning apostates. They agreed
with the saint that the internal discipline of a monastery might require
that an unwelcome prodigal be kept from contact with other commu-
nity members; they glossed that, however, to mean that he or she be
isolated from those members or provided for in another house, but
not barred from admittance to that community after a third (or even
fourth or fifth) departure. Under no circumstances, said the canonical
commentators, were apostates to be left to wander about. Vagabond
16
Anne E. Lester, Creating Cistercian Nuns (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
2011), 101–102.
17
Roberta Gilchrist, Gender and Material Culture: The Archaeology of Reli-
gious Women (London and New York: Routledge, 1997), 117, 127.
regulars imperiled their souls and caused great public scandal. Church
law absolutely required that religious superiors do their upmost to
seek out and to ensure the return of all apostates from their commu-
nities. Even in Pastor bonus, Pope Benedict XII’s 1335 constitution
meant to provide more effective and compassionate provisions for the
return of apostates, the wording remained the same – even if a com-
munity did not want the prodigal back, they were to be required to
facilitate a return to religious life, and uncooperative superiors would
risk ecclesiastical sanctions, imposed by agents of the pope himself.18
Pastor bonus did more than reiterate the provisions of Gregory

IX’s decretal (Ne religiosi vagandi) that heads of religious
houses should strive by annual inquiries to restore apostates
to the religious life. It went beyond: if after inquiry and urging,
the apostates refuse to return, then the superior should have
them seized and forced to return … The pope ordered religious
superiors to take back even the unwanted religious, those apos-
tates whose houses were pleased that they had left and did not
want them back. Papal deputies were to enforce this even to the
extent of imposing ecclesiastical penalties on reluctant superi-
ors, from which there could be no appeal.19
Penalties like these would never have been required of course if the
heads of religious houses had always, happily or grudgingly, com-
plied with orders to readmit an apostate. Recognizing this fact, and
designed to pave the way for reentry, episcopal mandates often
contain wording addressed to a potentially reluctant abbess, prioress
and/or community. Bishop William Gray’s injunctions to the nuns
of Markyate Priory, Lincoln following his visitation of 1432 provide a
good example. Katherine Tyttesbury, a nun “moved by the devil” and
unconstrained by the prioress, who in Gray’s words “observes not our
injunctions nor causes them to be observed by the others her sisters
but herself scorns them,” had apostatized. The bishop now enjoined a
“salutary and condign penance upon her, proportional to her fault,”
which apparently had included sexual misconduct. He also turned
BR 4, 326–328.
18
Logan, Runaway Religious, 124–125.

19
his attention to the community to which Katherine would be return-

ing, commanding the prioress and nuns “that they admit and receive
among themselves with kindness the said sister Katherine, thus by
our authority absolved by you from her transgressions and hence-
forth treat the same with the kindly affection of perfect love.”20
Perhaps counsels to perfection, pleas for kindly affection, and
reminders of general human frailty did work at times to reconcile oth-
erwise unwelcoming superiors to the presence of a penitent runaway.
But whether a superior and the members of a community were hos-
tile or not, repentance, return, and readmission of an apostate were
only preliminaries – crucial first but not final steps in the journey
back to grace. Theologically, sin involved guilt (culpa) and punish-
ment (poena). An apostate could be released from the legal sanction of
excommunication and absolved from the guilt of her sin, but the pen-
alty for committing it remained. Saying that you were sorry was not
enough. Violation of one’s vows of religious profession was a serious
sin and expiation entailed serious punishment.
Like virtually everything else related to monasticism in the West
– including the policies for return and reintegration just covered –
the Rule of St. Benedict was a foundational document for the devel-
opment of the canon law dealing with punishment of apostates. In
his commentary on Ne religiosi vagandi, Johannes Andreae acknowl-
edged that fact by enumerating the punishments listed there:
Following the rule of Blessed Benedict, there are seven types of

discipline reserved for delinquent regulars, the first is private
warning, second, public correction, third, simple or minor
excommunication, fourth, imposed fasts, fifth, beating with
a whip, sixth, prayers additional to those ordinarily required
by the rule, and seventh, forced expulsion from the monastery
(secreta monitio, publica correctio, simplex vel minor excommu-
nicatio,, ieiunii afflictio, flagellorum vapulatio, ad deum oratio,
de monasterio expulsio).21
20
Visitations of Religious Houses in the Diocese of Lincoln, 1436–1449, ed. A.
J.W. Ruddock, 1929), 1:83.
21
Johannes Andreae, In tertium Decretalilum librum Novella Commentaria
(Venice, 1612), 3:159.
Once again, St. Benedict had set down the parameters of monastic
life for centuries to come. While the particulars of penitential regimes
would vary from order to order, Benedict’s seven forms or grades of
punishments continued to be applied to returning apostates in the late
Middle Ages. Mandates for readmission and punishment most often
contain words like ‘condign’, ‘salutary’, and the standard phrase, “in
accordance with the discipline of the order” (secundum regularum
disciplinam injungatis penitenciam salutarem). In these cases, there
would be a standard regime of fasting, and prayer, often coupled with
some form of periodic beating. When detailed penalties are outlined
in episcopal registers, there are variations of, but no egregious depar-
tures from, this standard triad.
There is another form of punishment that was occasioned either
by necessity or the pastoral judgment of a sentencing bishop. Referred
to as exsilium it was in and of itself not an additional penitential rite,
but it had the effect of enhancing their humiliating effects. By the late
medieval period, exsilium consisted of banishment to a neighboring
monastery of the same order as the apostate’s motherhouse. Exsilium
was not, despite the name, permanent. Unlike the ‘bed and board’
alternative prescribed as an alternative to readmission of a trouble-
some apostate to the motherhouse, it was merely a temporary sep-
aration from fellow religious prescribed as a penance and designed
to be a kind of spiritual medicine. We have already had an example
of exsilium in the case of Isabella Dayville, apostate of the war-rav-
aged Cistercian priory of Rosedale. In William Melton’s letter to the
prioress of Handale, the community to which she was sent to atone
for her sins, he specifically mentions the practical rationale for his
decision: change in spirit often accompanies change in scene. In that
same missive, he then describes the penitential regime that the nuns
of Handale were to impose upon Isabella for a period of seven years
or until they were advised otherwise, based on his reassessment of her
level of contrition.
She is to take the last place in the convent whether in choir,

cloister, dormitory or refectory unless impeded from doing so
by infirmity, she is to take no part in discussions about the busi-
ness of the house nor is she to send or receive letters, speak with
anyone whether secular or religious, or leave the monastery for
any reason. Every Friday she was to fast on bread and water and
on Wednesday was to abstain from fish. On those Wednesdays

and Fridays the president was to administer the discipline to
her in chapter. She was prohibited from wearing the black veil
of the professed nun and was everywhere to affect the demea-
nor of the humble penitent.22
With one exception, a round of penance such as Isabella was slated

to endure might be enjoined upon male as well as female runaways.
That exception involves a symbol of profession exclusive to women
religious, the veil. Like Isabella, runaway nuns were not permitted to
wear the veil while undergoing their penance, whether in the moth-
erhouse or in the house to which they had been sent for the duration.
This might have been a particularly onerous and humbling restriction
given the important symbolism attached to it, and the uncovered
head of the penitent nun was just one more distinguishing mark of
her fault.
As with Isabella, exsilium might last for a fixed period of years,
commonly from three to seven, or until mitigated by the bishop. The
prospect of banishment might also be held in reserve by a bishop as
an additional means of persuading less than tractable penitents. For a
prodigal who knew of its humiliations first hand, this must have been
a most effective deterrent. Certainly, Archbishop Melton had wished
it to be when he readmitted Isabella de Stodley as a nun in good stand-
ing to her motherhouse, the Benedictine priory of St. Clement in
Yorkshire. Years earlier, Isabella had apostatized from that house, and
when she returned, penitent, had been sent to Yedingham Priory to
atone for her sin. In 1331 when Archbishop Melton readmitted Isabella
to St. Clement, his mandate contained the caution that should she
prove disobedient to the prioress, blasphemous, or quarrelsome with
the other nuns, he would transfer her again, this time to remain away
permanently.23
Whether within her own community or in exile, the penitent apos-
tate would make satisfaction for her grave sin by fasting, praying, and
enduring some form of corporal punishment. She would be unveiled
22
The Register of William Melton, Archbishop of York, 1317–1340, vol. 2, ed.
23
Apb. Reg. 9A fol. 231v. See also Logan, Runaway Religious, 258.
and out of contact with anyone outside of the monastery and indeed
with most of her fellow nuns. Within these general parameters, var-
iations in detail abound. Penalties generally grew harsher if an apos-
tate had relapsed or proved recalcitrant, and we treat of both these
eventualities in the next chapter, but a particularly lengthy period of
apostasy might also seem to call for the application of more rigorous
‘medicinal’ remedies.
Although not a recidivist, Maud de Tyverington of Keldhome
Priory in Yorkshire had definitely been away a long time.24 She had left
that Cistercian house in 1287, and for long after had led a debauched
life in the world. When she had contritely, tearfully, and earnestly
entreated Archbishop William Melton in 1321, he absolved her of her
sin, then sent a lengthy letter to the prioress and convent to which she
was being readmitted. In the letter he noted the dissolute life Maud
had lived while abroad, detailed the penance he prescribed in consid-
eration of it, and specified the particulars of its performance.
Forgetful of her vows of profession and the stability she had

promised, she abandoned her habit, left behind the rule,
defamed the honesty of religious life and stained her purity by
committing various sacrilegious acts … nevertheless, recalling
that the Redeemer desires not the death of a sinner but that he
be converted and live we commend her to you for readmission,
and if the aforesaid penitent can in a spirit of humility mortify
her body via penance and beat at the door of His mercy, devot-
edly seeking and imploring him, confessing her sin, showing
compunction, and subjecting herself to the corrections which
the bonds of her profession require … she will redress the
deformation of her life.
We therefore firmly order the following: that Maud be held
in solitary confinement where she might contemplate and weep
over her grave offense against God, that she be prohibited from
talking with or receiving letters from seculars, wearing the black
veil, and, for the remainder of her life, from wearing a night-
“Houses of Cistercians Nuns: Priory of Keldholme,” in A History of the

24
County of York, vol. 3, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1974), 167–170,
at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/yorks/vol3/pp167-170 [accessed 2
January 2016].
shirt (camisia pro vite sue residuo). That she fast on bread and
porridge on Wednesdays and on bread and water on Fridays,
and that she go about the cloister barefoot on these days, and
in the presence of the whole community, receive two beatings
(duas fustigationes). On other days she should receive the dis-
cipline once, privately in the chapter house, at the hand of the
president. Twice each week she is to recite the entire psalter,
with the exception of the Placebo and Dirige for the dead which
we wish her to say daily, for remission of her sins. She is also to
have no say in discussions about the business of the house, when
in choir, to prostrate herself in front of the whole convent to be
trodden upon by the other nuns if they so wish, so that in this
way, through penitential practice and your prayers and petitions
to God, she will be granted the grace of reconciliation as we sin-
cerely desire, and that seeing the rigors of her penance others
might hold themselves in check and not fall prey to similar sins.25
Referencing the double purpose that he hoped the penance he had out-
lined would serve did little to make things less horrible for Maud, but
it surely suggests that Archbishop Melton had his doubts both about
the tractability of the penitent and the willingness of the prioress of
Keldholme to oversee its imposition. That suggestion is confirmed by
the way that he concluded his letter: He wished to be informed, he told
the prioress, through signed and sealed letters, just how well Maud
was submitting to her regimen. If, “scandalously and to her shame,”
the penitent should rebel and become contumacious he would revoke
the penance he had ordered and substitute a harsher one.
When all was said and done, a penitential sentence imposed was
not the same as a penitential sentence served, and the best chance
of reintegration of a prodigal came when she, along with the bishop
and the head of her monastery, cooperated in the endeavor. Just a
few pages ago we saw the result of a lack of such cooperation. The
bishop of Lincoln, Phililp Repingdon, had readmitted the apostate
Register of William Melton, 2:157. Janet E. Burton, The Yorkshire Nunner-

25
ies in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries, Borthwick Papers 56 (York:

Borthwick Institute, 1979), 34. John Tillotson, “Visitation and Reform of
the Yorkshire Nunneries in the Fourteenth Century,” Northern History 30
(1994), 9.
Joan Horncastle to Rothwell Priory, mandating that she be confined

within cloister walls to serve out her penance. The prioress received
the order but was so unconvinced of Joan’s resolve to truly repent
that she disregarded it; within a day after her return to the priory, she
had allowed Joan to go out freely, and so tempted, the would-be pen-
itent had become, once again, an apostate.
The wise bishop, then, might seek to ensure cooperation with the
head and community to which he returned a penitent apostate. He
could, for instance, end his injunction for readmission with the com-
monly employed reminders about the importance of showing charity
and filial love to the lapsed; he could include a request for updates on
the spiritual progress of the prodigal, in the manner of Archbishop
Melton; or, again like Melton, he might promise reassessment of an
imposed penance on the condition of good behavior. The wisest ordi-
nary encouraged compliance with an injunction to reintegrate a runa-
way nun by recognizing his own limitations. No bishop or legate knew
the particulars of community dynamics as well as the head and mem-
bers of that community. If a late medieval bishop was to be an effective
and practical pastor, he would have to know how to make compro-
mises when he ordered the readmission of an apostate nun, since he
had to consider what was best for both the penitent and the commu-
nity that was required to receive her. Episcopal compromises might
be the result of personal insight but they were most effective when
they were the result of collaboration with a monastic superior, whose
informed judgments about the character of a returning nun proved
invaluable. At the request of the prioress and nuns of Fischbeck, for
example, Johannes Busch allowed his charge, Gertrude, to stay with
them rather than insisting that she return to her motherhouse.
The case of Alice Darel gives us a superb example of episcopal
receptivity to the perceptiveness of an abbess, or in this case prioress.26
In 1302, Archbishop Thomas Corbridge responded to a letter from the
prioress of Thicket, a Benedictine house in Yorkshire. The prioress
told him that an apostate of their order, the professed nun Alice Darel,
had recently come to the monastery gates, begging to be taken back.
“Houses of Benedictine Nuns: Priory of Thicket,” in A History of the

26
County of York, vol. 3, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1974), 124–125,
at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/yorks/vol3/pp124-125 [accessed 3
January 2016].
Although Alice pledged to undergo penance for sin, the prioress had
her doubts.
We think, or rather know well (set conjicimus, immo bene

scimus), that she will not perform the penance that she deserves
and that we intend to impose upon her to expiate her sin. And
so we told her that we would have an answer for her before
Wednesday week since we need to confer with our friends
before we responded. We implore you, merciful father, humbly
and on bended knee to advise us about how we should receive
this nun, and what form of penance to impose upon her. We
fear that judging from her words and demeanor, her pride will
not permit a change of heart and that we will not be able to
live with her in peace. Hence for the love of the cross and for
uniform peace, we ask you if you are able to find another way
to do this, another place for her to go, although we realize that
what we seek is grace rather than justice. (… vos rogamus ut
si hoc fieri posset via aliqua, ipsam alibi dignemini collocare.
Graciam petimus non justiciam bene scimus.) We also believe
that if she was placed in our house in solitary confinement that
such conditions would make her worse rather than better and
that when she would be released from it she would be in greater
danger than she is now.27
To this thoughtful and psychologically astute plea, the bishop

responded quickly, just a day later in fact.
If Alice Darel will return to you humbly and submit to the peni-
tential discipline that your order requires, you are to admit her.
If she rejects the said penance, however, then to avoid scandal
to your order and danger to her soul which would attend her
wandering about in the world, you should admit her but keep
her in custody to serve out her penance whether she is willing
to do so or not, until such time as by her devotion she merits
our grace, which we are mindful to send to you, prioress. We
The Register of Thomas of Corbridge, Lord Archbishop of York, 1300–

27
1304, ed. William Brown and A. Hamilton Thompson, Publications of the

Surtees Society 138, 141, 2 vols. (Durham: Andrews & Co, 1928), 2:506.
cannot, however, because it would be injurious to others, grant

you that grace which you specifically request in this case.
If we lack the details, we can still be sure that the level of collabora-
tion identified in this instance was not unique, given the fact that
bishops and even their deputies were scarcely in a position to monitor
the everyday goings on within the monasteries under their purview.
If it was to be successful, readmission of a penitent apostate would
require the best efforts of all of the principals. More often than they
would have admitted, however, nothing could effect a change of heart.
Because the canon law which they were pledged to obey required that
rehabilitation be attempted at any cost, tragedy sometimes resulted.
6
Recidivists and Renegades
This final chapter is devoted to apostate nuns whose return to monas-

tic life was compromised either temporarily or permanently. The
peripatetic and persistent reformer Johannes Busch once again pro-
vides us with the first, and the most colorful, story of such a woman
– Sophie, daughter of Duke William of Brunswick and Lüneburg,
Lower Saxony.1 Sophie had been professed in magnificent ceremony
at the unreformed Cistercian monastery of Mariensee, where she
had then lived for years as a lukewarm follower of an undemanding
routine. As if to provide an object lesson in the route taken by temp-
tation in such lax circumstances, an unscrupulous chaplain assigned
to provide spiritual care for the nuns found the lovely young Sophie a
prime candidate for deception. He slept with her on many occasions
in the monastery itself and she sometimes crept away to meet him in
his own rooms.
When Sophie became pregnant, her lover counseled her to don
men’s clothes (Busch itemizes the apparel: trousers, cloak, boots, and
even arrows in a quiver), make her escape by night, and meet him in
a nearby forest. After spending three days and two nights together,
he left Sophie on the pretext of getting more supplies, and never
came back. Finally realizing that he was not going to return for her
and fearing what her father and brothers would do if they discov-
ered her plight, she made her way to a neighboring district where she
took refuge with a woman who let her stay until the birth of her child.
Afterwards, however, Sophie was returned to Mariensee and impris-
oned, either as penance for her apostasy or because the community
1
Johannes Busch, Chronicon Windeshemense Und Liber De Reformatione
Gregg International, 1968), 659–664.
realized that she had not come back willingly. In these harsh circum-
stances, continually tempted and convinced that she could no longer
observe monastic discipline, she decided to hang herself in her cell
using her nightshirt as a noose.
Only the chance intervention of the priest who was celebrating
Mass at the monastery that day saved Sophie from suicide and won
her freedom from prison, a freedom which she soon used to put her
salvation on an even more fragile footing. Escaping from Mariensee,
she proceeded to spend more than seven years wandering from this
city and town to the next and taking lovers along the way. Ultimately,
she found herself pregnant again, and gave birth to a son in the
city of Hildesheim, where she was working as a wet nurse. When
Johannes Busch (who had visited and reformed Sophie’s monastery of
Mariensee) heard about her, he sent one of the brethren to ask her to
come to him at the nearby priory of Sülte – an offer that she emphat-
ically refused. She declared that the whole of Hildesheim could go up
in flames before she would visit Busch, since he would surely return
her to her own monastery. Only an act of God, it seemed, would alter
her steely resolve.
And so it was, that when Sophie’s son, a deaf mute, died, “he
acquired the power of clear and intelligent expression that he had
lacked in life.” Appearing to her in a dream, the boy promised her
that he was in heaven and that he would prepare a place for her there
too if only she would return to her reformed monastery and persevere
as a good nun. Terrified, and chastened, Sophie finally came to Sülte
and begged to confess all her sins to Busch. He heard her lengthy con-
fession and then did something unusual. He told her that as a papal
emissary he had the power not only to absolve her sins but also to lift
the sentence of excommunication incurred by her apostasy, but that
he could not in good conscience do so at that moment; he wished to be
sure, he added, that this time she would persevere in her good resolve.
Although still unwilling to return to her own community at this
point, Sophie did agree to go to the recently reformed monastery of
Derneburg, and Busch sent ahead to the abbess, asking permission to
bring her there. Then he sent for a wagon for the journey and arranged
for Sophie to eat lunch with the nuns of St. Katherine’s. When he
arrived at the cloister to pick her up, however, the distraught nuns told
him that Sophie had gone deaf. Busch proceeded to meet with her and
tell her that he was ready to take her to Derneburg but she was unre-
recidivists and renegades 161
sponsive, “her ears stopped up by a dense vapor.” The weeping nuns

suggested that they hang a copy of the gospel of St. John around her
neck to cure her, but Busch replied that that would not be necessary.2
If the devil had done this to Sophie, he would not dare to come into
the wagon with Busch there, and indeed, after Sophie had been put
into it, and after Busch and one of his brothers had kept a long vigil in
prayer, her hearing returned. She immediately asked to be taken to the
monastery, and Busch happily complied.
When they reached Derneburg, Johannes told the abbess that he
had arrived with the daughter of the duke and asked her when he
should come to her. The abbess replied, whenever you wish, a response
that greatly pleased the reformer. He arranged to bring Sophie into
choir after vespers, where she would be interrogated about her inten-
tions in front of the assembled community; but first he called her to
him privately. Reminding her that he had not yet given her absolu-
tion, and with her assurance that she had committed no sins since
her confession at Sülte, he formally absolved her before leading her
into the church. Here, before the entire community, Busch asked if
Sophie, a vagrant and transgressor of her vows, was now willing to live
according to the Rule of St. Benedict, just as she had promised God.
Sophie fervently confirmed her decision to do so, after which Busch
pronounced the following words: “By the power vested in me by the
pope, I absolve you from all your sins and crimes, in the name of the
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.” Sophie next prostrated herself at
the feet of the abbess, who received her graciously, with all the nuns
exclaiming, “Rejoice this day choirs of angels because the coin that
was lost is now found; we praise, exalt and give glory to you, God of
all power and might.” Busch himself, overcome by this show of com-
punction and charity, shed tears. But the saga of Sophie’s return was
still not quite at an end.
The next morning, Johannes was pleased to hear the abbess say
that her fellow nuns heartily welcomed having Sophie among them,
and that he could not have pleased them more if he had sent them a
thousand florins. And when he questioned Sophie about how she had
2
This semi-magical use of John’s gospel persisted well into the early mod-
ern era, as we see in its use by Jesuits for example in the seventeenth cen-
tury. John O’ Malley, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1993) 268.
spent her first evening there, she told him of their warm welcome as
well, of how they had called her “beloved sister” and how she had gone
to sleep thinking that she had not been a good sister to them, but that
it is necessary that she become one. Then she told Busch of her dream:
The abbess was in the choir surrounded by a great flock of white sheep
all happily bleating, when a lay sister came out of nowhere holding a
grey one which she placed at the feet of the abbess, saying “It is fitting
that this sheep be white just like the rest of them.” Then all the white
sheep came up and joyfully stripped off all the wool from the face and
feet of the grey sheep. The lay sister then told the abbess that since the
sheep was still not completely white, it should be taken to the chapter
house where, thorough discipline, it might be fully cleansed and so
become pure white. Then, Sophie continued, she herself came into the
choir and saw there, just in front of a window where the books and
priestly vestments were laid out, a man as black as an Ethiopian, who
cried out: “Give me back that sheep, it is mine!” She went up to the
window and stuck her fingers in the horrible man’s eyes, saying that
he was not going to get that sheep; she continued to battle with the
man, verbally and physically, all night.
When Busch heard this report, complete with dream, he was glad
since it meant that all was well with both nun and community, and that
the devil had been vanquished in their midst. A little later, the reformer
completed his task by taking Sophie from Derneburg to Neustadt, site
of her family’s castle, and only a mile from Mariensee, whence she was
sent, and where she remained “in peace and under the rigorous disci-
pline of the cloister.” Not incidentally, and quite ironically, Sophie’s
father, Duke William, had been an avid supporter of Busch’s monastic
reform movement and had even lent armed support to his crusade
when moral persuasion alone had proven inadequate.3 This fact helps
to account for the reformer’s special concern that Sophie be returned
to her vows even when her earlier lapsed resolution made the prospect
appear dubious at best. It may also be a factor in the merciful, loving
reception she was afforded both at Derneburg and ultimately by the
nuns of her own community – a reception starkly contrasting with
that given some of the returning apostates we have already encoun-
tered. In this case, as with his recounting of the arduous journey of
3
and Tannen, 1922; 1964), 672.
the penitent Gertrude Gensen, Busch kept his largely monastic read-
ership in mind. He included numerous miraculous interventions and
endearing details to keep his readers interested, commented on the
nuances of exculpatory power and papal mandates, and reinforced the
idea that reformers were obliged to concern themselves with the prac-
tical as well as spiritual consequences of recidivism – Busch reserved
his final absolution for the fully contrite and resolute Sophie.
Contrite and resolute and indomitable as she was (who would
doubt her capable of vanquishing the devil himself in a fight?), Sophie,
the recidivist, finally returned to Mariensee ready to accept the penalty
attached to her infractions. She had, in fact, dreamt about it, seeing
herself as the returning sheep that was “still not completely white,”
but that would become so through penitential discipline. It could cer-
tainly be argued, however, that the merciless punishment inflicted on
her for her initial apostasy actually contributed to her second escape.
After being seduced and abandoned, she had been forced to return to
Mariensee and was there imprisoned. Desolate, and suicidal, Sophie
had become determined to flee when presented with the chance, and
until the death of her son remained adamant never to return to the
site of her incarceration. But while we have seen other instances of
such pitiless treatment of a first-time runaway – the unfortunate nun
Magdalena Moserin, Poor Clare from the diocese of Constance, for
example, who when caught by superiors shortly after she had secretly
left her monastery was not merely penalized but consigned to perpet-
ual imprisonment – they seem to be exceptions rather than the norm.
Monastic ordinaries as well as abbesses and prioresses were well
versed in the biblical counsels discouraging overly harsh discipline of
the sinner. Rather than risk “breaking the neck” of a first-time run-
away, they were usually careful not to impose penances that could
produce an effect that was precisely the opposite of the one desired.
When Joan Horncastle first returned to Rothwell Priory, for instance,
Bishop Repingdon had ordered a penance that satisfied canon law and
accorded with the institutes of her order. Penance as prescribed by
Benedictine, Augustinian or Franciscan institutes, while quite bur-
densome, was designed to be medicinal; it was meant to humble and
not to ostracize or completely demoralize the penitent.
It is also worth reiterating that so many of the penances man-
dated for apostate nuns were closely allied to the rigorous practices
of self-denial more generally enjoined upon monks and nuns and
embraced by pious laity in this era. A spirit of detachment from

worldly concerns was fostered by daily prayer, which might consist
of hundreds of Pater Nosters and Ave Marias. Repentance for sin was
facilitated by meditations on the passion and suffering of Christ, and
aids to such meditations included prayer books and tablets bearing
the arma Christi, the instruments of the Passion. These representa-
tions of nails, hammer, pinchers, crown of thorns and scourges, often
bordered the image of the bloodied and wounded Man of Sorrows,
and were immensely popular in monastic and lay society alike.4 Nor
were flagellation, frequent fasts, and the wearing of hair shirts prac-
tices used only as punishments for serious sin.5
Within this context, local ordinaries and monastic superiors can
be seen to temper justice with mercy. Only when apostasy occurred
a second (or even third) time would those distinctions be tested and
the line between correction and punishment sometimes be crossed.
When Joan Horncastle apostatized the second time, for example,
Bishop Repingdon ordered that her recidivism be penalized in the fol-
lowing manner: because she had wandered, she was now to be bound
by iron chains and kept in safe and secure custody within the priory;
to chastise the flesh she was to fast on Wednesdays on bread, beer, and
porridge, and on Fridays on bread and beer alone; and since those in
the outside world had had a bad influence on her character, she was
not to be permitted to visit or speak with secular people except in the
company of the prioress and two other nuns. This expiation was to
continue for three years unless he issued instructions to the contrary.6
4
Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski, The Strange Case of Ermine De Reims: A
Medieval Woman between Demons and Saints (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2015), 67–70.
5
Carmen Florea, “For They Wanted Us to Serve Them,” in Women in the
Medieval Monastic World, ed. Janet Burton and Karen Stöber (Turnhout:
Brepols, 2015), 222–223. Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast and Holy
Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1987), 37–47 summarizes developments in
the practice of fasting from the early years of the Church to the later Mid-
dle Ages, which underscore the differences in the latter era, particularly
among pious women.
6
The Register of Bishop Philip Repingdon, 1405–1419, ed. Margaret Archer,
3:15.
Absent the chains, Joan de Crakenholme of Thicket Priory,

Yorkshire, met a similar reception. Archbishop Zouche mandated
her return to her Benedictine community in 1344. Since Joan had laid
aside her habit and run away ‘frequently’ and had committed other
unspecified sins, the archbishop included details of her penance in
his order for readmission. In addition to her private penance, Joan
was not to wear the black veil, or speak to any secular person of either
sex, or with her sister nuns, except by leave of the prioress. She was
not to go out of the cloister into the church, but was to be confined
in a secure place near the church in such a way that she could attend
Matins and Masses celebrated there. She was not to dispatch any letter
or receive any sent to her. Each Wednesday and Friday she was to
have bread, vegetables and light ale, and was to eat and drink on the
bare ground, and on each of those days was to receive a discipline in
chapter from the prioress and each of the nuns. She was to take the
last place in quire, and not to enter the chapter except to receive her
discipline and was to retire immediately afterward. Two nuns were to
be appointed by the prioress as her guardians, to see to the execution
of the archbishop’s orders, and the prioress was to have all carried out
as a somber warning to other members of the community.7
Once more in Yorkshire, we hear of Margaret de Tang, professed
nun in the Cluniac priory of Arthington, who in 1312 had left the house
along with the prioress, Isabella de Berghby. Eighteen months later,
both she and Isabella returned, and Archbishop Greenfield absolved
them from the sentence of the greater excommunication that they
had incurred and provided a penance involving suitable humiliations,
such as taking the last place in the choir, cloister, dormitory, and
refectory, as well as prohibiting them from going outside the clois-
ter.8 Unfortunately, Margaret failed to profit from those injunctions.
On 7 April 1319, a new ordinary, Archbishop Melton (1317–1340), sent
her into exile for her repeated immoral behavior. She was to be taken
to Nunkeeling to do penance; again, to no avail, since she ran away
7
York, Borthwick Institute for Archives (University of York), Archbishops’
Registers 10 (Register of William Zouche, 1342–1352), fol. 154r.
8
The Register of William Greenfield, Lord Archbishop of York, 1306–1315,
Canterbury and York Society 145, 149, 151–153 (London: Quaritch, 1931,
1940), 2:957.
from that house too.9 Finally, in May 1321 Archbishop Melton wrote to
the prioress and convent of Arthington saying that although she had
apostatized and committed serious excesses, he had again absolved
Margaret de Tang. The prioress and convent were to put her in some
secure place, and no secular person was to be permitted to see her.
She was to say the whole of the service as a nun, and two nocturns of
the psalter, and if her case required it, she was to be bound by the foot
with a shackle (ad modum compedis), but without hurting her limbs
or body. When the prioress was assured of Margaret’s contrition, she
was to inform the archbishop. He would then restore her to the com-
munal life of her monastery. Even then, however, Margaret was to be
the last in church and refectory, was not to enter the chapter house,
and would still be excluded from interacting with all secular people.
The prioress was to keep the archbishop updated on her behavior.10
The long-term effects of such a penitential regime on a recid-
ivist, the very thing that the not-to-be-envied Melton wished to be
kept abreast of in Margaret’s case, were unpredictable. If the desired
result of reintegration of a penitent apostate into her community was
achieved, we hear no more about the case. Documented evidence of
the failure of a regime to engender a change of heart – that is, one that
instead resulted in more attempted escapes – suggests that penance
worked best on those whose hearts were already changed. Apostates
like Sophie of Brunswick, who were truly ready to accept their pen-
ance as a means of expiation, were successfully reintegrated into
religious life, but we cannot be confident that Archbishop Melton
received favorable reports about Margaret de Tang.
Unpredictable too are the factors that led nuns to repeatedly
apostatize. For a nun who was already on less than firm footing with
respect to her religious commitment, dislocations caused by natu-
ral or man-made disasters might lead her to a repeated rejection of
that commitment. We encountered Joan Brotherton, for example,
in the context of the Scottish Wars that forced Archbishop William
9
York, Borthwick Institute for Archives (University of York), Archbishops’
Registers 9A (Register of William Melton 1317–1340), fol. 333r.
10
“Houses of Cluniac Nuns: Priory of Arthington,” in A History of the
County of York, vol. 3, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1974), 188, at
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/yorks/vol3/pp187-190 [accessed 17
October 2018].
Melton to temporarily disperse two female communities (Moxby and

Rosedale) to keep members from the depredations of raiding parties.11
Joan was among the nuns of the Augustinian house of Moxby whom
Melton sent to the Cistercian priory of Hampole, in November 1322.
While the majority of these nuns would regroup after the worst threats
were over, Joan Brotherton was perhaps the least prepared to cope
with such precipitous resettlement; not even a year earlier, in February
of 1322, Archbishop Melton had sent a letter to the prioress of Moxby
instructing her to receive Joan, whom he had absolved of apostasy. He
commanded the prioress to impose the appropriate penance as pre-
scribed by their order. Joan was once again the object of Archbishop
Melton’s attention in July of 1328.
Cited as an apostate from Moxby who had for the third time
returned penitent, he directed the prioress of the convent of
Nunkeeling to receive her.12 There she was to do penance commen-
surate with her triple defection. It was a prescription essentially the
same as that given her Yorkshire contemporary – also thrice apos-
tate – Joan de Lelom, when she returned to her Cistercian priory of
Baysdale in 1319.13 For seven years, or until mitigated, they were not to
wear their black veils, leave their cloisters, nor have any letters from or
visits by laity. They were required to take the last place in all commu-
nity gatherings and to have no voice at all in communal decision-mak-
ing. Fasting on bread and water, they would be called to chapter to
be physically disciplined on Fridays; on Wednesdays, they could have
bread, legumes and beer, but neither meat nor fish. They were also
enjoined to pray the entire psalter each week.
Joan, as well as all the Yorkshire nuns just mentioned, had repeat-
edly rejected religious life, but just as repeatedly returned to it.
Perhaps they, like Sophie of Brunswick, had had a wrenching experi-
ence that made the cloister appear more protective than prison-like.
Perhaps they had simply been worn down by scruples, or were inca-
pable of surviving life outside. Whatever their reasons, they returned
11
See Chapter 4 and Janet Burton, “Medieval Nunneries and Male Author-
ity,” in Women in the Medieval Monastic World, ed. Janet Burton and
Karen Stöber (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), 136.
12
The Register of William Melton, Archbishop of York, 1317–1340, vol. 2, ed.
13
Ibid, 172, 77.
to their communities as penitents. Other apostates would not follow

suit. They would choose instead to remain in the secular world into
which they had fled. That choice was often understandable in times
as severely troubled as the late Middle Ages. As with the houses of
Moxby and Rosedale during the Scottish wars, regional conflicts could
force whole communities to be dispersed. Nuns were also forced to
flee the ravages of famine and plague. Rather than reenter and attempt
to rebuild derelict or war-torn communities, some simply chose to
remain with relatives or others who had sustained them in their plight.
As we have seen in a previous chapter, this was the case with the
group of Cistercian nuns about whom the procurator general of the
order petitioned Pope Urban V in 1368.14 The open countryside sur-
rounding this community (Tart or one of its filiations) had become
a war zone, and the nuns had fled for safety either to the homes of
their parents or to other protected venues. Some went to the city of
Avignon and others as far as Provence. Although the fighting was over,
the nuns who had scattered were reportedly not interested in return-
ing to their monastery (quamvis dicta guerrarum cessent discrimina,
ad earum monasteria redire non curant). The pope responded to this
report of large-scale apostasy by informing his official in Avignon that
these vagrant nuns be compelled to return to their monastery via cap-
ture and even imprisonment, using the aid of secular forces if needed.
Famine as well as war could degrade monastic resources to the
extent that nuns simply quit their houses and returned to secular soci-
ety. The famine that struck northern Europe between 1315 and 1322
was “easily one of the most severe subsistence crises of the late Middle
Ages – and perhaps in all of medieval history.”15 Statistics based on
testamentary evidence, burial payments, and records of death taxes
yield sobering data on mortality rates during the three worst years
of this disastrous famine, with one set of particular relevance here.
Documented heriots (death taxes) paid by peasants on various manors
in Hampshire, Berkshire, and Somerset, reveal a death rate of 10 per-
cent between 1315 and 1318.16
14
See Chapter 4.
15
John Aberth, From the Brink of the Apocalypse: Confronting Famine, War,
Plague, and Death in the Later Middle Ages (New York: Routledge, 2000),
16.
16
Ibid, 17.
Until the year 1316, one Hampshire community, the Cistercian

priory of Wintney, had managed to endure the effects of the famine
decimating their region. The house was modest in size, only about ten
professed members, and save for some standard episcopal injunc-
tions about stricter observance of the rule, life within it had run
smoothly and been of little concern to ecclesiastical authorities. But
all had changed by the time the diocesan ordinary, Bishop Woodcock,
received an urgent letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury. On 14
May 1316, he was told to act promptly to save what remained of the
community of Wintney, many members of which were returning to
secular society because the monastery had scarcely any food left, and
no provisions were being made to get any.17 The archbishop claimed
that this mass exodus was exacerbated by the administrative negli-
gence of the prioress, but regardless of whether that had contributed to
the wretched state of the nunnery, the situation now required imme-
diate intervention. To his credit, the bishop very promptly intervened.
Only two days after having received the archbishop’s injunction,
Woodcock commissioned three officials: Master Gilbert de Middleton,
canon of St. Paul’s and vicar-general of the diocese; Master Andrew de
Bruges, canon of Chichester, who frequently acted as bishop’s official;
and Master Stephen de Dene, rector of Abbotstone. These men were
to visit Wintney, with full power to correct and to amend whatever
was amiss in the house. When Bishop Woodcock died a month later,
however, his episcopal commission lapsed, and the archbishop him-
self was forced to intervene to prevent further apostasy at Wintney.
On 20 July 1316, the archbishop reissued the commission to Andrew
de Bruges and three others with full powers to visit the nunnery and
to inquire, correct, reform and, it is worth noting, to punish those who
had taken unlicensed leave. Considering the terrible circumstances
driving the nuns of Wintney out of their community, it seems plausi-
ble that those who had run away might not have remained apostates.
Instead of becoming renegades, they might have returned, once some
provision had been made to feed them that is. The same cannot be said
for other apostate nuns, whose motivations were less clear but whose
“House of Cistercian Nuns: Priory of Wintney,” in A History of the County

17
of Hampshire, ed. H. Arthur Doubleday and William Page (London: VCH,

1903), 149–151, at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/hants/vol2/pp149-
151 [accessed 2 July 2016].
resolve to stay in the world was totally unambiguous. Constance de

Daneport of Pontefract fits perfectly within that category, and her res-
olution to follow her course would present a challenge that even the
most dutiful and determined of superiors found daunting.18
The struggle to lure Constance back to the vowed life started in
November 1303 when Archbishop Corbridge wrote to the dean of
Pontefract prescribing a penance (fustigationes, “beatings,” according
to the marginal memorandum) for a returning apostate monk named
John Metal.19 Metal confessed that both before and subsequent to his
apostasy he had had sexual relations with Constance de Daneport
of Pontefract, a long-time professed nun in the Cluniac house of
Arthington, Yorkshire. That nun, however, unlike her chastened
lover, remained unrepentant and at large in society. A month went
by and then the archbishop wrote again to the dean of Pontefract, tell-
ing him that although Constance de Daneport had been counseled
to return to Arthington and to undertake penance for her sins, she
had still remained an apostate. Consequently, he now ordered that
the dean warn her that she must return by the feast of St. Hillary, 13
January 1304, or be denounced formally as an excommunicate. At the
same time, apparently quite confident that the threat of excommuni-
cation would undermine her resolve, Archbishop Corbridge wrote to
the prioress of Arthington requiring that when (not if) she readmit-
ted the apostate Constance, she was to treat her with gentleness and
mercy while assigning her condign penance.
The feast of St. Hillary was fast approaching when Corbridge
wrote yet again to the dean of Pontefract. On 10 January, just three
days before the deadline that he had previously fixed for Constance’s
return or citation as excommunicate, he extended the deadline, this
time to 16 February. Again, the archbishop obliged him to publicize
her impending fate in no uncertain terms. Then, on 16 February, when
Constance had still not returned to Arthington, Corbridge finally
enjoined his official to formally excommunicate her for her contu-
18
The Register of Thomas of Corbridge, Lord Archbishop of York, 1300–1304,
ed. William Brown and A. Hamilton Thompson, Publications of the
Surtees Society 138, 141, 2 vols. (Durham: Andrews & Co, 1928), 101–17.
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 78, 141.
19
The Register of Thomas of Corbridge, 255.
macious behavior. There is no record of Constance ever having been

reintegrated with her community. Nevertheless, in a final letter to the
prioress of Arthington, Corbridge reminded her that if (not when) the
apostate nun should return to them humble and contrite, she was to
be received without demur.20 Could it be that even the optimistic arch-
bishop was having serious doubts about this eventuality by then?
The story of Constance de Danport’s resolute apostasy is out-
stripped by the painfully drawn-out saga of the equally obdurate, but
far more flamboyant, Agnes of Flixthorpe. Because of its sensational
nature, Agnes’s story has been told before, principally to depict the
clichéd ‘relentless pursuit’ of a troubled woman by rigid, unfeeling,
Church authorities.21 It bears retelling here for a different reason:
Attempts to reconcile an apostate who truly did not want to reenter
religious life would be futile, no matter how zealously those attempts
were made – the determination of the churchman in this case, Bishop
John Dalderby, was even greater than that of his contemporary,
Archbishop Corbridge, yet the outcome was the same in both cases.
Agnes of Flixthorpe’s drama extended over a period of nine years
during Bishop Dalderby’s episcopate (1300–1320).22 A unique individ-
ual, the bishop remained virtually unconcerned with affairs of state
when he rose to the episcopal honor and was first and foremost a
pastor. He dedicated himself to providing for the spiritual welfare of
laity and clergy alike, and acted to prevent abuses at the parish level,
supporting efforts to provide more education for parish priests as
well. He was also firmly and unquestioningly committed to monas-
tic discipline, asserting his visitation rights over the many houses
in the diocese of Lincoln. It was at one of these houses, the nunnery
of Markyate, that he braved the wrath of the nuns to whom he had
announced Boniface VIII’s new policy of strict enclosure – they threw
a copy of the papal decree at him as he left.23
Dissuaded by little in his reform efforts, Dalderby’s registers reflect
his zeal to achieve a morally satisfying result when in 1309 he excom-
municated for apostasy the Benedictine nun, Agnes de Flixthorpe
20
Ibid, # 266.
21
Power, Medieval English Nunneries, 443–445.
22
Nicholas Bennett, “Dalderby, John (d. 1320),” ODNB.
23
Elizabeth Makowski, Canon Law and Cloistered Women (Washington:
The Catholic University of America Press, 1999), 114–115.
(alias de Wissenden), of the house of St. Michael, Stamford. Since she

was now leading a secular life, he warned all persons not to receive her
into their houses nor give her aid or counsel, threatening any who did
so with a citation to appear before his court. In 1310 the bishop sent a
letter to royal authorities asking for the arrest of Agnes, an apostate.24
She was then believed to be living in Nottingham, and the archdeacon
there was instructed to warn her to return to her monastery, resume
the habit, and submit to discipline. In the same year, the bishop made
a general proclamation of Agnes de Flixthorpe’s status as excommuni-
cate, and he also wrote to the abbot of Peterborough asking him to see
to her return to her monastery, and imprisonment there.
Agnes was finally caught and brought back to Stamford. Bishop
Dalderby then followed through and ordered the prioress to confine
her in a room with stone walls, and to shackle each of her legs (utram-
que tibiam) until she consented to resume her habit. But the redoubt-
able Agnes was not yet defeated in her efforts to escape, this time by
having recourse to the ecclesiastical courts. As we know, proof of
marriage prior to profession, like evidence of forced profession, were
canonical grounds for the nullification of religious vows.25 Agnes now
invoked the former defense against the charge that she was technically
an apostate nun. In August 1311, the bishop once again evinced his
thoroughness and issued a mandate to the official of the archdeacon
of Lincoln, the rector of Barnack, and one of his colleagues, to go to
Stamford and to interrogate Agnes and the other nuns, concerning the
truth of her claim: That she was never legitimately professed, since she
had been married before she entered religion. Unfortunately, the fact
that Agnes refused to name her alleged husband would not make this
claim a persuasive one. The precise findings of this commission were
not entered into the diocesan register, but their substance can be gath-
ered from a letter addressed by the bishop of Lincoln to the bishop of
Exeter in November 1311. The letter states that Agnes Flixthorpe had
been a fully professed nun at St. Michael’s for twenty years before she
ran away. When she was finally found, she was wearing a man’s gilt
embroidered gown. She had been brought back to her house and kept
in solitary confinement, since she remained an obstinate excommuni-
cate who refused to put on her religious habit.

24
See Chapter 1 and examples in Chapter 2.

25
After her attempt at using the legal system to obviate her situation
had failed so definitively, we might expect Agnes to have reconciled
herself to her fate. She did not. Bishop Dalderby consequently decided
to use the expedient of a change of venue – this was the same approach
used by William Melton in the case of Isabella Dayville, apostate from
the Cistercian priory of Rosedale, whom he sent to the community
of Handale. In this instance, Dalderby removed Agnes from the dio-
cese, sending her via his clerk, Peter de Helewell, to the Augustinian
priory of Cornworthy, Devon, in the diocese of Exeter. There she was
to undergo penance, once again in solitary confinement. This time, the
regime appeared to work. By December 1312, Agnes claimed that she
was now penitent. The bishop of Exeter would now be able to absolve
her. For whatever reason, however, Agnes continued to be kept in sol-
itary confinement at Cornworthy until August 1314, when Peter de
Helewell was commissioned to bring her back to Stamford.
Perhaps it was this continued merciless confinement that led Agnes
Flixthorpe to try once more for release from the bonds of religious
life. This time she succeeded. The register of Bishop Dalderby con-
tains one final entry relative to this sad case, and it is a telling one. A
letter to the prioress of Stamford written in September 1318, mentions
Agnes Flixthorpe as an apostate once again. Having left the monastery
nearly two years ago, she continued to be at large, her whereabouts
unknown. Incredibly, Dalderby nevertheless ordered that under pain
of excommunication, and without any dissimulation, the prioress try
to find the obstinate apostate and bring her back to Stamford. Once
again, he ordered that when found and returned, Agnes be kept in sol-
itude, receive no letter or messages, and undergo the discipline. When
Bishop Dalderby died about a year after this injunction it remained
unfulfilled; there is no more information about Agnes in the record.
Bishop Dalderby’s final directive to the prioress of Stamford,
although more arch, sounded the same chord as that of Archbishop
Corbridge’s injunction to the prioress of Arthington. Corbridge
had ordered the prioress to receive Constance de Daneport without
demur, should the runaway ever return to them contrite; Dalderby
threatened excommunication should the prioress of St. Michael’s fail
to readmit the intractable Agnes Flixthorpe. In an earlier case, Bishop
Rempingdon had cited the prioress of Rothwell for failure to comply
with his injunction to recall the apostate Joan Horncastle. Every one
of these ordinaries had been doing their job, as canonically required;
none of them could have expected anything like full cooperation from
the heads of house in question. And why would monastic superiors
cooperate? We have already seen that abbesses and prioresses could be
loath to take back an apostate because her motives for returning were
dubious. As the prioress of Thicket put it in the case of Alice Darel,
“We fear that judging from her words and demeanor, her pride will
not permit a change of heart and that we will not be able to live with
her in peace.” How much more might the head of a house begrudge
the return of a repeat offender. Why would an abbess or prioress be
quick to seek out a nun who had fled her house more than once, whose
character was suspect or who was obviously and wholly unsuited to
monastic life? Why would superiors welcome the presence of a recidi-
vist who had been compelled to return and whose confinement might
sap the energies and undermine the morale of other, valued, members
of her community?
Monastic ordinaries, like Archbishop Corbridge and Bishop
Dalderby, struggled to achieve the reintegration of runaways despite
what they observed of this reluctance on the part of superiors, and the
only way that they could do so effectively was by balancing appeals
for cooperation with threats of ecclesiastical censure. And the threats
included in episcopal letters recapitulated at the regional level those
which the higher clergy and popes had been issuing for generations.
By the start of the late Middle Ages, the constitutions and statutes of all
the major monastic orders obligated superiors to seek out and return
any fugitive members.26 This trend had in fact begun some fifty years
earlier. In 1242, the General Chapter of the Cistercians had already
ordered abbots and priors to compel the return of apostates, using
secular help when necessary.27 With increasing clarity and insistence,
individual popes, ecumenical councils and national synods reiterated
these directives. Outlining them here illustrates that steady drive to
fulfill canonical requirements for the return of all apostate religious
regardless of the challenges.
26
Anacleto Gurzó, De Apostasia a Religione Et De Fuga: Dissertatio His-
torico-Juridica (Claudiopoli, Turkey: Typis Typographiae S. Bonaventu-
rae, 1943), 45–46.
27
Statuta Capitulorum Generalium Ordinis Cisterciensis, ed. J. M. Canivez, 8
vols. (Louvain: Bureaux de la Revue, 1933–1941), 2:247.
With the issuance of Pope Gregory IX’s landmark decree, Ne

religiosi vagandi, the papacy required monastic superiors to search
annually for apostates and to receive them back or face sanctions.
Popes attached bulls of confirmation to the constitutions of individ-
ual orders that underscored this responsibility, and they also granted
privileges to established orders that allowed for additional coercive
powers. In 1244, for instance, Pope Innocent IV approved the right of
Franciscan superiors to incarcerate recalcitrant runaways.28 Councils
like those of Mainz (1259), Salzburg (1274), and Vienne (1311–1312),
and synods like those of Salisbury (1219) and Lambeth (1281) to name
just a few, reiterated the fact that monastic superiors were bound to
seek out and to return apostate regulars.29 The most far-reaching late
medieval attempt to reconcile apostate religious to their communities,
however, was that undertaken by Pope Benedict XII (1334–1342).
“The good shepherd is diligent, painstaking and always vigilant
lest his straying and wandering sheep be devoured by wolves”: so
begins the bull Pastor Bonus (1335), which, as we already know, sought
to solve the problem that the pope had visible evidence of in the Holy
City.30 The details of this bull warrant scrutiny in the present con-
text. From all parts of Europe, Benedict said, apostates came to Rome
claiming that they had left their houses without permission because
they could no longer remain within those religious communities. He
therefore proposed to use a mixture of force and clemency to effect
a permanent change in this situation, and he offered a multi-tiered
solution that addressed the differing situations and anxieties of apos-
tates in ways that no previous papal pronouncements had done. First,
Benedict XII repeated the strict injunction that the heads of all houses,
exempt and non-exempt, of every order, seek out, find, and return
runaway members. Superiors should initially urge apostates to return,
but if individuals remained unwilling, they needed to force them to do
so. He would illustrate this point by having all the obdurate apostates
28
BF 1:349.
29
Albert Joseph Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives from Religious Institutes:
An Historical Conspectus and Commentary, The Catholic University of
America. Canon Law Studies 168 (Washington, DC: Catholic University
of America Press, 1942), 32. Logan, Runaway Religious, 131–132.
30
BR 4:326–328.
who were in the vicinity of the papal curia seized by the auditor of the
apostolic camera and returned to their religious houses.
Second, those apostates who had left to join other religious orders
were to return within three months to the order in which they had
been originally professed. Third, religious superiors were bound to
take back even unwanted apostates, those whose absence from their
community was not mourned, “saving the discipline of the order” –
that is to say, with those alternative housing arrangements that can-
onists allowed for truly rebellious runaways. Papal deputies were
empowered to impose penalties, from which there could be no appeal,
on uncooperative religious superiors who did not want to welcome
returning, penitent runaways back into their houses. Only mendicant
friars, given the peripatetic nature of their vocations, were permitted
to return to the vowed life in houses other than the one in which they
had made their profession; it being incumbent on the house superior
of whatever community to which they returned to receive them, as per
the foregoing.
Fourth, to make reentry of apostates as easy as possible, heads of
houses were to keep in mind the frailty of human nature. Extremely
severe penalties discouraged sinners from being reconciled, and
the pope favored penitential regimes that were healing and medic-
inal, even in cases in which individuals had been guilty of serious
sins while living as seculars. Religious superiors were also given the
powers to absolve from the sentence of excommunication that apos-
tasy carried with it, and, in the case of male religious who had been
ordained, to dispense from any irregularities, such as those con-
tracted by saying Mass while apostate. Finally, and perhaps most
importantly, Benedict XII provided a practical means of expediting
the entire process of return and reentry of apostates. Upon request,
he would issue papal letters of reconciliation containing a sweeping
non obstantibus clause that would override all customs and statues of
religious orders. Consequently, those customs and statutes that nor-
mally served to structure regular life in a specific house would not be
allowed to impede the reintegration of wayward religious. This would
be an essential solvent to the resolve of any monastic superior tempted
to resist the return of an unwanted member of her community.
Papal letters of favor, as they were called, were subsequently
requested by and granted to numerous apostates. Most of the recipients
were male religious, but more than one wayward nun whose absence,
like that of her male counterparts, was not necessarily mourned by a

religious superior, was awarded one as well. In 1337, the pope granted a
letter of reconciliation in favor of Gutta of Schefeverin, Cistercian nun
of Heilsprucken, commissioning the abbot of Otterburg and two of
his colleagues to ensure that she be accepted back into her community
according to the terms outlined in Pastor Bonus.31 Because she had
committed “excesses,” the abbess of Heilsprucken had fully approved
of her leaving, albeit still wearing her habit; Gutta had subsequently
abandoned that habit and was now living in secular society. A year
earlier, the archbishop of Lyon had been commissioned to act in favor
of the apostate nun, Guillelmetae Guillelmonae, who had run away
from the Poor Clares of Brienne, Lyon.32 In 1340, letters of reconcil-
iation were granted to two more runaway nuns, Emengard Strolunz,
apostate from the Augustinian house of Penitents of Mary Magdalene,
Trier, and Greda Wintertur, of Strasbourg. The latter fit into the cat-
egory of apostates mentioned in the second section of Pastor Bonus,
since she had left her Dominican community without permission, to
live as an Augustinian nun in the monastery of St. Elizabeth.33
In the wake of Pastor Bonus, there was still more legislation.
Reforming constitutions issued by the Cistercians (1335), Benedictines
(1336), Franciscans (1336), and Augustinian canons (1339), all con-
tained stern reminders to superiors of their obligations to compel the
return of apostate regulars.34 Even after the pontificate of Benedict XII,
the papacy would continue to attempt to reduce the problem of vaga-
bond religious. In 1371, Pope Gregory XII extended the accessibility of
papal letters of reconciliation by allowing the papal legate in England
to issue them – the result no doubt of the considerable number of
English apostates reconciled via these letters in the preceding thir-
ty-six years: 103 male religious and one Augustinian canoness.35
While the heads of religious communities were repeatedly threat-
ened with canonical penalties if they failed in their duty to seek out and
31
Benedict XII, Analysées D’Après Les Registres Dits dAvignon Et Du Vat-
ican. Tome VIII, Bibliothèque Des Écoles Françaises D’Athènes Et De
Rome, 3e Série: Lettres Communes Des Papes Du XIVe Siècle (Rome:
Ecole français de Rome, 1982), 1:439–440, # 4670.
32
Ibid, 1:301, # 3309.
33
Ibid, 2:264, # 7921, # 7922.
34
Logan, Runaway Religious, 131.
35
Ibid, 127.
return apostate members, the apostates themselves became increas-

ingly susceptible to forced return. In his bull of 1374, Pope Gregory
XI enhanced the powers of Dominican superiors to excommunicate
and capture runaways, and Pope Eugenius IV granted similar facul-
ties to the Hermits of St. Jerome in 1441. Julius II (1503–1515) directed
superiors of the reformed Benedictines of St. Mary Olivet to threaten
wandering monks with spiritual as well as physical punishments, and
leveled reserved excommunication upon any who harbored such
runaways.36
This increased emphasis on forced returns accounts for the steady
trend of Church officials to depend on civil authorities to help carry
out those returns. Ecclesiastical reliance on the assistance and inter-
vention of kings, princes and their agents in the retrieving of apos-
tates became far more common by the close of the Middle Ages. As
we well know, the English Crown had developed a systematic method
for empowering civil authorities to find and bring back apostate reli-
gious much earlier. The royal writ de apostata capiendo, issued out of
Chancery at the request of a head of house and sent to sheriffs empow-
ered to arrest and forcibly return a runaway, had no parallel on the
Continent, but the procedure was gradually approximated through-
out Europe. By the close of the fourteenth century, monastic superiors
throughout Europe were being encouraged by popes and bishops to
make direct pleas to local justices, provosts or bailiffs when necessary
for the retrieval of wandering regulars.
Importantly, this normative use of civil officials to aid in the pur-
suit of runaway religious reflects the shared interest of Church and
State in solving what had become a general societal problem of vaga-
bondage. These were perilous times when the disasters of famine and
epidemic undermined economic, familial and political stability, and
desperate wanderers were joined by those displaced by endemic war-
fare. Vagabondage during the famine that struck northern Europe
between the years 1315 and 1322 posed problems to authorities seeking
to stem the tide of migrants from rural areas who hoped to beg or steal
food in the cities; in the wake of the Black Death, landlords desperately
competing for scarce labor contributed to peasant itinerancy.37 While
canon law had been addressing the issue of vagabond religious for
Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives, 30–33.

36
Aberth, From the Brink of the Apocalypse, 24–25, 201–202.

37
generations, it had treated it principally as a spiritual threat – to the

individual religious who risked his or her eternal soul, and to laity who
would be scandalized. Civil law in its turn addressed vagabondage as
a societal problem, undermining orderly government. Runaway reli-
gious contributed to that growing problem, which both English (1349)
and French (1350) law now dealt with severely.38 Not incidentally, the
Synod of London (1399) asked that the king delegate similar coercive
power to bishops so that they could, on their own recognizance, cap-
ture and imprison recalcitrant apostates within their dioceses.
The inclusion of apostates in the broader category of vagrants
facilitated the use of secular force by religious superiors throughout
Europe; those, that is, who were intent on compelling the return of
one of their wayward sisters or brothers. Heads of houses may have
had more opportunities to solicit and receive such assistance, but
many continued not to want it. Concerns about the integrity and
good order of their communities – concerns like those harbored by
the prioress of St. Michael’s, charged to readmit the intractable Agnes
Flixthorpe, or the prioress of Rothwell, similarly ordered to welcome
Joan Horncastle – continued to influence their decisions to refrain
from looking for renegade religious. At other times the issue was exac-
erbated by lax, irresolute, or unmotivated abbesses and prioresses,
who had no desire to call attention, secular or otherwise, to the inter-
nal affairs of their houses. In fact, some superiors felt it in the best
interests of the community to keep defections a secret even (or espe-
cially) from local ordinaries.
In episcopal registers and visitation dectata we continue to find
mention of those erstwhile members of a community whose absence
had been unremarked, but who were still at large in the world. During
the 1441 visitation of the Benedictine priory of Ankerwyk, conducted
by the bishop of Lincoln, for example, Dame Isabel Standente, the
sub-prioress deposed that “in the prioress’ default six nuns have now
left the house in apostasy.” She added that “many nuns have left, yet
Laurent Mayali, “Du vagabondage à l’apostasie. Le moine fugitive dans

38
la société médiévale,” in Religiöse Devianz: Untersuchungen Zu Sozialen,

Rechtlichen Und Theologischen Reaktionen Auf Religiöse Abweichung Im
Westlichen Und Östlichen Mittelalter, ed. Dieter Simon (Frankfurt am
Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1990), 141.
without her knowledge.”39 Yet when previously questioned herself,

the prioress, Dame Clemence Medforde, had made no such admis-
sion to the bishop, claiming instead that all was well in her house. At a
much later visit to this same priory (1519), Bishop Atwater’s interroga-
tion brought to light another case of unreported apostasy. It was not
until he questioned the nuns that he discovered the absence of Alice
Hubbart, who had left after four years and was living as a married
woman.40
When he visited the Benedictine house of Farewell in 1331, Bishop
Roger Northburgh found that two nuns, Alice de Kynynton and Cecily
Gretton, had left without being reported as apostates. His injunc-
tions to the prioress Margaret de Muneworth requiring her to find
and return them were written in French this time, since she claimed
that it had been her faulty Latin that kept her from fully obeying his
previous directives.41 We recall that at St. Michael’s Stamford, Agnes
Butylere (Perry) had been gone for a year and a half before the bishop
discovered her apostasy in his visit of 1440.42 For reasons that will
be discussed in the Conclusion, the problem of unreported apostasy
appears to have been even more pronounced among male religious.
For instance, restricting ourselves to Bishop Alnwick’s last Lincoln
visits 1439–1447, we find five undisclosed apostates at Humberstone
Abbey, one at Nutley named Thomas Ewelme, who had been living for
nearly a year with a married woman, and at St. Neot Priory, Brother
Robert Byllyng “was believed to be at Winchelsea.”43
Some runaways, then, stayed away because nobody came looking
for them. Despite the censures imposed upon unresponsive heads of
39
J.W. Ruddock, 1929), 2:1, 3.
40
“Houses of Benedictine Nuns: The priory of Ankerwick,” in A History of
the County of Buckingham, vol. 1, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1905),
355–357, at https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/bucks/vol1/pp355-357
[accessed 14 July 2016].
41
“Houses of Benedictine Nuns: The Priory of Farewell,” in A History of the
County of Stafford, vol. 3, ed. M. W. Greenslade and R. B. Pugh (London:
VCH, 1970), 222–225, at https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/staffs/vol3/
pp222-225 [accessed 16 July 2016].
42
Visitations of Religious Houses, 3:2, 348.
43
Ibid, 2:140, 257, 322. See also, Logan, Runaway Religious, 203, 79, 195.
houses, some would continue to be uncooperative. But even when

monastic superiors and local ordinaries truly strove to find and return
apostates – and we have seen several examples of such determina-
tion – their efforts could be impeded. A common impediment, more
common than one might think given the very real hardship of medie-
val travel, was distance. The words ‘whereabouts unknown’ occur fre-
quently in reports filed by monastic visitors, and an apostate might
stymie attempted return efforts by keeping a good bit of space between
herself and her monastery.
Finally, the most conscientious abbess or abbot, one who seriously
tried to retrieve a lost sheep, was no match for a fugitive who had the
protection of a well-placed member of secular or ecclesiastical society.
Few apostates would have the sort of charmed existence of Lucretia
Buti, who thanks to the patronage enjoyed by her extremely talented
lover (a talent share by their son) lived out her life as mistress and
mother in comfort, security, and plain view. Others, however, had a
measure of protection that allowed them to hide in plain sight, bar-
ring intervention at the highest levels. So it was with the unnamed
sister of Alice Fyshill (herself abbess of Wintney Priory, Hampshire),
whose return the pope himself had been called upon to effect, and who
responded on 17 September 1405.
To the archdeacon of Taunton and Ralph Canon, canon of

Wells. Mandate to go in person to the Benedictine monastery
of Wynteney [Wintney Priory, Hampshire] in the diocese of
Winchester, and to visit the same in head and members, the
pope having recently heard that Alice, who has been its prior-
ess for about twenty years, has so dilapidated its goods, from
which the prioress for the time being is wont to minister to the
nuns their food and clothing, that it is reduced to poverty and
is about 200 marks in debt; that she especially cherishes two
immodest nuns, one of whom, her own (suam) sister, had apos-
tatized and left the monastery and, remaining in the world, had
had children, the other, like the first in evil life and lewdness,
but not an apostate, and feeds and clothes them splendidly,
whilst she feeds the other honest nuns meanly, and for several
years past has not provided them with needful clothing; that
she has long kept and keeps Thomas Ferring, a secular priest,
as companion at board and in bed (in commensalem et sibi
contubernalem), who has long slept and still sleeps, contrary

to the institutes of the order, within the monastery, beneath
the dormitory, in a certain chamber (domo) in which formerly
no secular had ever been wont to sleep, and in which the said
priest and Alice meet together at will by day and night to satisfy
their lust (pro explenda libidine), on account of which and other
enormous and scandalous crimes which Alice has committed
and still commits, there is grave and public scandal against her
in those parts, to the great detriment of the monastery. If they
find the above, or any of them sufficient for the purpose, to be
true, they are to deprive Alice, and in that event to grant that the
convent may, for this time only, elect another prioress, and are
otherwise to reform the monastery. Inter solicitudines.44
What conclusions can we draw from this snapshot of runaways who

opted for permanent absence from their communities and vowed
life? Renegade nuns like Agnes Flixthorpe were recidivists who had
finally succeeded in evading their forced return. But not all apostates
who opted for permanent fugitive status had run away repeatedly.
Constance de Daneport left once, and definitively, even though her
lover, the monk John Metal, had returned, penitent, to his vows. Nuns
like Joan de Crakenholme of Thicket Priory, Yorkshire, however, had
run away frequently but only to return in the long run. The impo-
sition of hard penances upon the first-time apostates like Sophie of
Brunswick may have led to recidivism, but not necessarily to perma-
nent apostasy.
In the end, the record allows us to make only one generalization
about professed nuns who became permanent apostates – that is, who
never returned to their communities and never rekindled their reli-
gious commitment but instead lived as seculars. Most of the women
who fell into this category had no desire to return to their monasteries
or priories. Often, these apostates had married, had families, and been
secularized in all but the legal sense. Despite the best efforts of popes,
bishops and other officials, some nuns continued to remain apostates
rather than to unwillingly return to religious life, and monastic heads
continued to resist the reintegration of troublesome, troubled, and
especially recidivist runaways.
CPL 6 “Lateran Regesta 122A, 46–60.

44
Conclusion
Even a modest survey of case studies, such as the one just concluded,
demonstrates how inadequately the popular trope of the wayward
nun reflects historical reality. The individuals seen here left their
monasteries for a striking variety of reasons, utilized any number of
different means to do so, and frequently sought to return, penitent,
to those same communities. Neither uniformly venal and lustful, nor
categorically victimized, some apostates were reluctant renegades set
adrift by war and disaster, lapses in judgment, or religious reforms
that consigned them to a life much more rigorous than they had ever
promised to live. Some broke with the vowed life suddenly, others
strayed from it by degrees. Those who returned, voluntarily or under
duress, could suffer at the hands of former superiors and fellow reli-
gious, or they could feel the joy of reconnection even while undergo-
ing condign punishment.
Some runaway nuns, like Katherina Truchessen, had been bul-
lied into the cloister by their fathers, and others had been coerced by
greedy brothers or cousins, as was the case with the heiress, Magdalena
Payerin. Some nuns were seduced and then abandoned, others found
lovers like Fra Lippi, who treated them fully as spouses. Alleged apos-
tates often found in their husbands the support they needed to finally
seek exoneration – witness the skill that Friedrich Heidenheimer,
notary, scribe in the court of the bishop of Constance, and the man
that Magdalena of Münsterlingen had married, brought to her pro-
cess. Penitent apostates might be treated with cold indifference by
clerics charged with their reintegration or they might find themselves
in the hands of shepherds like Johannes Busch, who seemed almost in
awe of his elite charges.
But as diverse as they were individually, all the women we have
encountered here were a product of their time. The choices that they
made (or that were made for them), and the options that they subse-
quently exercised, were colored by the changing, challenging era in
which they all lived. Placing these women in historical context helps
us to understand their individual actions, as well as to assess those of
the ecclesiastical officials tasked with the regulation of monastic com-
munities. While major crises of the late Middle Ages – famine, war,
and plague – affected lay and religious, male and female alike, even
these natural and man-made disasters sometimes had a distinctive
impact on religious women. Late medieval expectations regarding the
social status of nuns, as well as the steady erosion of the principle of
gender equivalence between nuns and monks, certainly did. I will say
something about each of these in turn.
Since many fully professed nuns in the late Middle Ages hailed
from the upper strata of late medieval society – traditional Benedictine
and Augustinian nunneries having become the preserve of the privi-
leged and the newer mendicant and Bridgetine houses following suit
– virtually all of the runaway nuns we have dealt with came from the
propertied classes, and some even hailed from the aristocracy. The
wealth and social prominence of these women made them likely tar-
gets for compelled entrance into religious life. Relatives were keen to
quash their claims to an inheritance, were unable or unwilling to pay
the sums required for a dowry, or were merely availing themselves of
the only alternative to marriage suitable for a woman of their class.
Even when not actually forced to enter, girls might do so only out of a
sense of obligation or filial piety. Either way, women in these circum-
stances often had no true vocation to the vowed life in the first place,
making it much more likely that they would be tempted to leave that
life behind. And although their social clout also seems to have helped
them when it came to redress forced profession – via costly papal peti-
tions for example – it may not have been a desirable trade-off.
The relative uniformity of the social status of late medieval nuns
was mirrored by their canonical status as religious, vis-à-vis monks;
that status too had ramifications relevant to apostates. Theoretically,
fully professed nuns were spiritually on a par with male regulars and
gender equality continued to exist in medieval monasticism, even late
medieval monasticism. The impetus to restrict professed nuns to their
cloister precincts, renewed with vigor by Pope Boniface VIII at the
end of the thirteenth century, had considerably altered the eloquent
statements of spiritual equivalency found in earlier eras. Nevertheless,
conclusion 185
those who dedicated themselves to the vowed life lived under simi-
lar legal and moral restrictions, regardless of gender. So too, monks
and nuns who decided to shirk their vows could expect similar conse-
quences, provided of course that they had taken those vows, and then
abandoned them, with the full intention of doing so. When determin-
ing the canonical status of a fugitive monk or nun, the same essential
tests regarding intentionality were applied to both.
Forced profession, as we know, vitiated the binding power of
monastic vows and so made charges of apostasy in the case of run-
aways untenable. Unsurprisingly, force and fear of paternal wrath
was linked to many a young girl’s successful plea for nullification of
vows, several of which have been catalogued in this book. Whether
it was a mother, a stepfather, a brother, guardian or other interested
party who had forced them to profess their vows, women who chose to
escape the monastery and file pleas of coercion to counter allegations
of apostasy appear to have been very successful.1 But coercion was also
claimed in many a petition filed by male regulars.
Young men too were cajoled and then coerced into monaster-
ies, and they too sought relief from the Papal Penitentiary: Sixteen of
eighteen such supplications from England and Wales filed between
1410 and 1503, for example, came from men.2 Carolly Erickson has
observed that throughout Europe, fourteenth-century critics of the
mendicants claimed that Franciscan friars in particular tried to win
over very young students at university, and accused them of ‘steal-
1
Ludwig Schmugge and Atria A. Larson, Marriage on Trial: Late Medi-
eval German Couples at the Papal Court, Studies in Medieval and Early
Modern Canon Law 10 (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America
Press, 2012), 94 and 197 respectively, where a stepfather is named in the
petition of Barbara Roderin of Bamberg, and a brother, in Countess Guta
von Wertheim’s plea.
2
Supplications from England and Wales in the Registers of the Apostolic
Penitentiary 1410–1503, ed. Peter D. Clarke and Patrick N. R. Zutshi, Can-
terbury and York Society 103, 104, 105 3 vols. (Canterbury: Boydell Press
for the Henry Bradshaw Society, 2012), 1:xxxii, xl. Sixteen specific sup-
plications from monks are cited. For a later period, note Anne Jacobson
Schutte, By Force and Fear Taking and Breaking Monastic Vows in Early
Modern Europe (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2011), 4. In
her study of 978 petitions to the papacy for release from monastic vows
filed between 1668 and 1793, Schuute found that 807 were made by men.
ing’ boys too young to fully consent to religious commitment.3 And

Marilyn Oliva has noted a similar trend in late medieval England.
Despite the prohibitions of the general chapters, the Franciscans
accepted boys as young as five, and Dominican houses admitted nov-
ices as young as fifteen. The practice of accepting novices at a younger
age than was permitted seems to have been a chronic problem in the
male houses but not in the female ones. In 1366, the Commons peti-
tioned the Crown to disallow anyone under the age of twenty-one from
entering any of the four orders of friars; the king refused. Instead he
issued an order that prohibited friars from accepting any child under
fourteen without the consent of parents or guardians. Nevertheless,
the last prior of the Carmelite priory in Ipswich joined the order in
Norwich at the age of twelve.4
In 1430 Pope Martin V felt compelled to condemn the accept-
ance of underage boys into mendicant communities, a practice that
apparently continued to be a real problem since monastic superiors
might insist upon the validity of such childish promises.5 This was
the case with John Sillow, lured at the age of seven into a Franciscan
community from which he had a great deal of trouble extracting him-
self. John’s petition to Pope Innocent VIII in 1490 recounts his story,
which, since it was far from unique, bears scrutiny.
To John, bishop of Nocera (Nucerin.), residing in the Roman

court. Mandate, as below. The petition of John Sillow, scholar,
of the diocese of York, lately set forth to the pope that when he
was in his seventh year or thereabouts, and under the rule of his
stepmother, he, induced by the persuasions of a certain friar of
the conventual order of Friars Minors, assumed with childish
levity the habit which is wont to be worn by the friars of the
said order, and which was given to him by the said friars, but
without any intention of remaining in or making his profession
of the said or any other religion, and wore it until his fourteenth
3
Carolly Erikson, “The Fourteenth-Century Franciscans and their Critics,”
Franciscan Studies 35 (1975), 112–113.
4
Marilyn Oliva, The Convent and the Community in Late Medieval England:
UK: Boydell Press, 1998), 46–47.
5
BR 4, 737.
conclusion 187
year; that after reaching the said age of fourteen years, he told
the said friars over and over again that he would not remain in
the said religion or order, but that, when below his fourteenth
year, he was forced by the threats and blows of the said friars
and by natural fear to make his profession of the said order; that
at the first opportunity he left the said order, as he was always
minded to do, threw off the said habit, put on a secular habit,
and had remained in it for fourteen years or thereabouts, as he
was still then doing; and that he had remained in the said order
after reaching years of discretion against his will and inclina-
tion, being kept back by the said friars, and had made the said
profession by force, through threats and blows, and not inten-
tionally, as aforesaid. The pope therefore, ordered James Caccia,
archpriest of the church of Novara, I.U.D., a chaplain of the
pope and a minor penitentiary in the basilica of the Prince of
the Apostles, Rome (de Urbe), to absolve the said John from
all sentences of excommunication, etc., contracted through the
foregoing, decree that he was not bound to the observance of
the religion and profession made by him as above, and dispense
him to be made a clerk and be promoted to all, even holy and
priest’s orders, and remain in a secular habit like secular priests,
as is more fully contained in the signed petition in the matter, of
which the pope willed that his signature alone sufficed, and to
the execution of which the said James is said to have proceeded.
At the petition of the said John, the pope now orders the above
bishop to confirm the said absolution, decree and dispensation
by the pope’s authority, and, as far as concerns them, all the
contents of the process of the said James, and not to allow the
said John to be molested against the tenor thereof and of the
present letters.6
Even those mature individuals, female or male, who had freely entered
religious life did not automatically become apostates by leaving it.
Intention was crucial not only for entry into, but also for exit from,
a religious community. Fugitive regulars could be considered apos-
tates only if they left planning never to come back. This resolution
was indicated most clearly when a monk or nun ‘cast off the habit of
6
CPL 14 “Vatican Regesta 687, 1489–1491”.
religion.’ Additionally, extenuating circumstances could mitigate the

charge of apostasy, even if a runaway had jettisoned his or her habit.
In 1365, for example, Pope Urban V responded favorably to a suppli-
cation from Friar Jacob Grunte, order of Valle Scolarium, Lyon, who
ran away from his monastery because he was afraid of being punished
for playing dice (ludum taxillorum) but who did not leave with the
intention of apostatizing (egrediens, non tamen animo apostantandi).7
And we will recall that when the Augustinian nuns Anna Secclern and
Elizabeth Hueberin arrived at the papal court in 1490 requesting that
they be allowed to enter an unreformed community, they were called
fugitives, but not apostates; their status was confirmed by the fact that
they came to Rome still dressed in their religious habits.8
Throughout the later Middle Ages, these canonical stipulations
applied equally to women and to men, and only the freely professed
regular who had unambiguously rejected the religious life (by dis-
carding the habit with intention to leave religious life forever) could
be classified as an apostate. Throughout the later Middle Ages, the
requirement to return an apostate, willingly or not, to his or her
community also remained constant. Various mechanisms might be
employed to this end, but the following petition for the capture of an
English apostate provides a template that might be, and was, applied
to retrieve apostates of both sexes.
Petition for the Arrest of an Apostate 15 May 1403
We, your humble and devout servant Robert Chambeleyn,

Guardian of the order of friars Minor of your city of London
present this petition with all reverence and honor to his most
excellent highness, lord Henry, by grace of God King of England
and France and lord of Ireland. Brother Robert Haunton, pro-
fessed monk of our house, having cast off the habit of his order
unmindful of his salvation and against his vow, profession,
and obedience, departed from our house without license, and
wanders from country into country, vagrantly, posing a danger
to his soul, and becoming a manifest scandal to the whole of
this order. Since we are not able to bring him back without
7
Urban V, Supplications 1522:573–574.
8
See Chapter 4 for this case.
conclusion 189
the aid of the secular arm, we humbly implore your excellent

majesty with pious and devote prayers, on account of rever-
ence of God and honor of the order of saints that you deign to
write to the sheriff of Essex, and that he, thorough his ministers,
capture the said Robert, thus wandering, and return him to his
house and his order, so that a seedling (shoot) not be deprived
of divine cultivation. In testimony of which present thing and
for the eyes of his royal majesty we affix our seal. Dated London,
the fifteenth day of May in the year of our Lord 1403.9
The petition’s evocative language illustrates the rationale for forced

return of all apostates. The ‘seedling’ must not be deprived of divine
cultivation; vowed regulars, once fully committed to the service of the
Lord, must not be permitted to imperil their own souls and to scan-
dalize others by their breach. That breach would require expiation
once an apostate returned, and here too, the procedure was essentially
gender-neutral. Episcopal injunctions for the readmission of penitent
runaways are nearly identical in wording, whether for nuns or monks.
Time and again abbots and abbesses, priors and prioresses were coun-
seled to accept the prodigal and to treat the repentant sister or brother
9
“Excellentissimo principi domino suo Henrico, dei gratia Regi Anglie et
Francie et domino Hibernie, servus humilis et devotus Robertus Cham-
berleyn, Gardianus ordinis fratrum Minorum civitatis vestre Londonie,
oracionum suffragia cum omni reverencia et honore. Quia frater Robertus
Haunton, confrater noster et domus nostre professus, spreto habitu ordi-
nis sui, illius et salutis sue immemores (sic) contra votum, professionem,
et obedienciam suam a domo nostra sine licencia recedens, de patria in
patriam vacabundus (sic) discurrens vagatur in anime sue periculum,
tocius ordinis eiusdem scandalum manifestum; ipsumque Robertum sic
erraneum ad finem debitum non valemus sine adiutorio bracchi secularis,
excellenciam regiam piis precibus et devotis humiliter imploramus qua-
tenus ob reuerenciam Dei et sancti ordinis honorem scribere dignemini
Vicecomiti vestro Essex., ut ipse per ministros suos dictum Robertum
sic vagantem capiat et domui sue et ordini restituat, ne pareat plantacio
divino cultui mancipata. In cuius rei testimonium presentibus his paten-
tibus Regie Majestati directis sigillum nostrum apposuimus. Datum Lon-
don. die xva mensis Maii, Anno domini Millesimo cccc° tercio. [The seal
is gone.]” From: C. L. Kingsford, “Appendix: Petition for the Arrest of an
Apostate,” in The Grey Friars of London (Aberdeen: Aberdeen University
Press, 1915), 207, at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/brit-franciscan-soc/
vol6/p207 [accessed 12 July 2018].
in such a way that they would have never have cause to leave again.
Bishops ordered superiors to correct the penitent nun “in sisterly wise
and with motherly pity so that not her fault, but her punishment, may
abide as an example to others.” Likewise, they asked that “mingling
the oil of mercy with the wine of correction,” communities embrace
the wayward monk “in such wise that he may have joy of his return
to the fold of the Lord, and you of your son who was lost and now
found.”10
Once apostate monks and nuns returned, or were returned, to
their monasteries, their penitential regimes were comparable. With
the obvious exception of unveiling, the penalties were common to
both: fasting, corporal punishment, rounds of prayer, humiliation
before the community, and being excluded from participating in
its affairs. So too, both women and men might hope to have those
penances relaxed by episcopal fiat. In his mandate regarding Isabella
Dayville, apostate of the war-ravaged Cistercian priory of Rosedale,
William Melton imposed a penance of seven years, or until he pre-
scribed leniency; Archbishop Thomas Corbridge told the prioress of
Thicket that the apostate Alice Darel was “to serve out her penance
whether she is willing to do so or not, until such time as by her devo-
tion she merits our grace, which we are mindful to send to you.”11
Roger of York, apostate canon of the Augustinian Priory of Healaugh,
Yorkshire, was sentenced (as Joan Horncastle had been) to be placed
in irons as part of his penance for apostasy, but was released from
them by the bishop within a year.12
Whether they had served out their penances fully or had them
truncated by benevolent ordinaries, penitent apostates might aspire
to and achieve full status again, and even hold offices within their
communities. Johannes Busch reported that the penitent runaway
Gertrude Gensen had not only been reinstated to fully professed
status at Fischbeck but also held the office of infirmarian. Sabina de
Apelgarth, an apostate whom Archbishop Greenfield had ordered to
10
Christopher Harper-Bill, “Monastic Apostasy in Late Medieval England,”
The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 32, no. 01 (1981), 7.
11
Chapter 5 details both of these cases.
12
F. Donald Logan, Runaway Religious in Medieval England, C. 1240–1540
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 154.
conclusion 191
be readmitted in 1310, became prioress of Moxby by 1328.13 Bishop

Atwater of Lincoln restored the apostate George Adderbury to full
status at Eynsham, pointedly underscoring Adderbury’s right to be
heard in chapter.14 And in 1349 at the Cluniac nunnery of Arthington,
Yorkshire, Isabella de Berghby, was elected prioress although she had
apostatized in 1312.15
These examples serve to underscore the fact that when classify-
ing and regulating apostate regulars, canon law continued to regard
male and female miscreants as spiritual equals to be dealt with accord-
ingly. If we begin to look at some of the reasons why religious men
and women might break their vows of profession, however – at their
ostensible motives for apostasy – some gendered differences emerge.
Decisions about whether or not to leave one’s community could be
tremendously influenced by a consideration of the consequences
(both legal and spiritual) of one’s actions; for pious women in the later
Middle Ages, the increasing variety and complexity of modes of reli-
gious life made it difficult at times to know, much less evaluate, those
consequences.
We have seen, for instance, that women like Gertrud Doven and
Alheydis Wnandi had been convinced that by leaving their quasi-re-
ligious communities they had become apostates. Their friends and
neighbors concurred, and neither woman could find peace without
appealing to the Apostolic Penitentiary for absolution from what they
believed might be their grave sin, and the elimination of the stigma
of excommunication that it carried with it. According to the canon-
ists, both Gertrud and Alheydis had been wrong; they had not become
apostates, and so excommunicates, by taking leave of their quasi-re-
ligious communities. In these two instances, extenuating factors
of minority and possible force and fear bolstered the juridical find-
ing, but by the end of the Middle Ages it would be hard for anyone
13
“Houses of Austin Nuns: Priory of Moxby,” in A History of the County of
York, vol. 3, ed. William Page (London: VCH, 1974), 239–240, at https://
www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/yorks/vol3/pp239-240 [accessed 25 March
2019].
14
J.W. Ruddock, 1929), 2:144.
15
and Tannen, 1964), 469, 598–99.
who was not a canon lawyer to have been secure in that assessment,
even absent those circumstances. A case involving the Sisters of the
Common Life, provides additional evidence of this fact.
By the last half of the fifteenth century, there were some sixty
houses of the sisters in northwest Germany and their proliferation
raised new challenges to their right to exist as informal groupings of
pious women. In 1393, an inquisitor assigned to the imperial territo-
ries of western Germany and the Netherlands, Jacob von Soest, had
begun an investigation of the congregation of Swestriones, who lived
in Utrecht and Rhenen. His observations and conclusions, drawn
from “the sworn testimony of several reliable persons,” were con-
tained in a complaint that he had forwarded to Rome. His criticisms
illustrate just how much quasi-religious communities of women had
come to resemble their vowed counterparts, professed nuns, by this
time.16 The complaint proper makes oblique references to unorthodox
practice among the sisters, but above all else they are indicted for their
quasi-monastic lifestyle, and a variety of specific examples are used to
support that indictment. For instance, the superior leads the sisters
in saying the blessing and thanksgiving at meals, which are taken in
a refectory while books are read aloud – all clearly monastic customs.
The superior convenes a chapter of faults during which the sisters
confess their sins. Sisters are not allowed to hear Mass or sermons, to
go to confession or communion, without license of the superior, and
she even assigns confessors who are well acquainted with the house
ordinances. Those ordinances, in turn, are obeyed by all sisters under
pain of expulsion from the community. Finally, and for our purposes,
tellingly, although the sisters make no profession, those who leave a
house are referred to as “apostates” just as if they had been regulars.
Similar stipulations that narrowed the gap between nuns and their
quasi-religious contemporaries included those regarding the physical
space in which pious women lived – the beguinages and Third Order
enclosed communities for example. In all, these stipulations contrib-
uted to blurring distinctions about female apostasy, and they make the
confusion among quasi-religious women – the erroneous belief that
Elizabeth Makowski, “A Pernicious Sort of Woman”: Quasi-Religious

16
Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 121–133 gives a full account of
the incident.
conclusion 193
by leaving their houses they could become apostates in the same way
that professed nuns did – comprehensible. But might a professed nun
who really had apostatized hold a contrary erroneous belief? Could
a professed nun leave her monastery and religious habit behind,
honestly believing that she was free to do so? Could she think herself
at liberty to return to secular society without stigma? The answer to
these questions, I think, is yes.
As committed as late medieval popes, bishops, and canonists had
been to standardizing monastic practice, variations among monastic
orders, and indeed within the same order in different regions, could
not be entirely suppressed. For example, we have seen bishops point-
ing out instances in which the black veil symbolic of profession was
not being reserved for the fully professed, where the garb of lay sis-
ters was indistinguishable from that of choir nuns, and where tacit
profession, not followed by the episcopal blessing which would have
clearly marked the transition from novice to nun (and which had been
mandated by canon law), continued to be the norm rather than the
exception. Sometimes a case illustrates virtually all these departures
from the canonical norm: Grace and Agnes Nowers had been only
two of the many women at St. Giles whom Bishop Philip Repingdon
had ordered to be solemnly professed and formally veiled after they
had “already and for some years been living as regulars.” Added to
these variations in custom were the inevitable failures on the part of
some superiors and local ordinaries to enforce standards when they
did exist. Long-standing jurisdictional disputes, like that between the
Master of Sempringham and the bishop of Lincoln, also had a direct
bearing on whether or not ceremonies surrounding, and sacralizing,
the profession of the nuns would take place.
Given these factors, it is no wonder that determinations about
the religious status of a woman who had been in a nunnery but who
claimed that she had never been a professed nun were not easy to
make. If they had been, English courts of the Crown would not have
enlisted the aid of the Church before issuing verdicts in such cases,
and the number of surviving episcopal certifications of a litigant’s lay
or religious status demonstrates just how often they did enlist that aid.
Ultimately, it is logical to think that women like Alice of Everyngham,
Joyce Hywyssh, and Margery Hedsor apostatized believing, or willing
themselves to believe, that they had never been professed nuns in the
first place.
We are on firmer, less speculative, ground when turning to apos-

tasy triggered by love or the fulfillment of sexual desire. As with feel-
ings of exclusion from family wealth or power, these motives were
scarcely gender-specific. But although both male and female regulars
were sometimes tempted to seriously violate their vows of chastity,
only women ran the risk of having to deal with the incontrovertible
proof that they had done so. Pregnancy and motherhood had implica-
tions for female apostates with respect to decisions to leave their nun-
neries, as well as whether to permanently stay away from them. The
harsh canonical reality was that if an apostate nun had borne children,
and subsequently wished to repent and to return to the vowed life, she
would be forced to return to that life without them. This fact, seem-
ingly at odds with the spirit of the post-classical canon law, was fact
nevertheless. The opportunity to personally care for one’s illegitimate
child rather than to consign that child to relatives or strangers might
seem like the greater good, yet I have discovered only one instance of
a papal dispensation allowing a religious woman to do so, and it did
not involve a professed nun. Only Margareta Bartenbechin, a runa-
way Dominican tertiary from the diocese of Constance, was granted
her plea to the Papal Penitentiary to remain in the world in order to
care for her children, “to rear them at her breasts and with her own
hands”.17 Apostate nuns who had become mothers would have to
choose to leave their children behind if they wished to be forgiven;
some apparently could not do this.
Constance de Daneport’s lover had returned, penitent, to his mon-
astery at Pontefract Priory but she remained at large; Lucrezia Buti had
made an attempt to recommit herself to religious life after the birth of
her son, but left again, for good, soon after. Battistina, professed nun
who had fled her convent of Poor Clares to live for years with, and
have children by, a Milanese layman, begged the Sacred Penitentiary
for absolution and the opportunity to return to religion only after her
children were grown; and it was not until after the death of her son
that Sophie of Brunswick reconsidered her resolve to remain in the
world. It could be argued that these women might have remained out-
side of the cloister even if they had not become mothers, or that they
remained fugitives merely because they feared the punishments that
would befall them if they returned. But perhaps what they feared was
Chapter 3 contains details of this and related cases.

17
conclusion 195
that their children would bear the brunt of that punishment if they
did; that sin would be expiated, but not just by the sinner.
Nuns might become mothers; they could never become priests,
and this fact too had gendered implications when it came to apostasy.
Every nunnery, regardless of the order to which the nuns belonged
and regardless of its location in Western Europe, was dependent
upon ordained clergy to celebrate the Mass and to administer the sac-
raments on a regular basis. Proximity to male religious as spiritual
directors, monastic visitors, and chaplains was therefore inevitable,
and could result in unmonitored and unwarranted relationships. Fra
Filippo Lippi had been the chaplain of Santa Margherita when he
met, and became enamored of the nun Lucrezia Buti, and Sophie of
Brunswick had been seduced by the chaplain of her Cistercian monas-
tery of Mariensee. Nuns might therefore meet the men for whom they
would break their vows while still living within the confines of their
cloisters and while, at least initially, discharging the spiritual obliga-
tions that they relied upon priests to assist them to fulfill.
Furthermore, since they could never be ordained, nuns were
deprived of an opportunity, available to male regulars since the
fourteenth century, to leave monastic life permanently and yet
avoid becoming apostates. As discussed earlier with reference to the
Dissolution in England, monks, canons, and friars, unlike disaffected
nuns, could opt to be ordained and then beneficed clergy. Papal dis-
pensations allowed individual monk-petitioners to hold positions
in parish churches and memberships in cathedral chapters that had
endowed income attached to them. Such grants increased in fre-
quency throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with Pope
Eugenius IV issuing sixty-one, Nicholas V, seventy, and Pius II (1458-
64), ninety. These grants allowed male regulars to leave their mon-
asteries and to live as secular priests for life, free from the authority
of abbot or prior. They would be free to hold property as well and
although they would have to remain chaste, they were no longer regu-
lars. Free from vows of poverty (receiving income from the property)
and obedience to a monastic superior (as a rector or vicar they were
subject only to the bishop), they could not be recalled to their mon-
asteries after receiving such dispensation. Thus, fully professed male
regulars could leave the way of life with which they had become dis-
content without becoming apostate.
Dispensation to hold a benefice came as close to formal exclaus-

tration as medieval canon law would get, and it was a dispensation
reserved exclusively for men. In addition, male regulars had vastly
more opportunity than nuns when it came to short-term stints away
from monastic routine. Visits with family and friends, and licensed
pilgrimages exhausted the list for nuns, and obtaining permission
to make long, costly pilgrimages was difficult to secure. For a few
nuns, like the apostate Cistercian Katherine Thornyf, who had been
“seduced by the Angel of Darkness,” the lure of Rome became more
powerful than their vows. Incomparably more professed monks, how-
ever, found the prospect of going on pilgrimage to Rome so compel-
ling that they apostatized rather than be denied it. In the Holy Year of
1350, for example, Rome ‘welcomed’ eighteen male pilgrim-apostates
from England alone.18 Male regulars became apostates despite the
fact that they had several other legal ways – ways not allowed women
religious – of temporarily or even permanently absenting themselves
from monastic routine.
As papal fiats like Boniface VIII’s Ut periculoso and John XXII’s
1325 constitution attest, monks needed permission to attend univer-
sity or to travel abroad, to preach in distant countries or to go to the
Holy Land.19 They could, however, apply for and get such permis-
sion for any and all such endeavors.20 These varied legitimate options
allowed male regulars considerable latitude to move about in the sec-
ular world. Theoretically then, religious men had far fewer reasons
than nuns to illicitly abandon their vows. The number of men who
did so, however, suggests that such opportunities were double-edged
swords. Perhaps providing monks, canons, and friars with the chance
to stretch the tether that secured them to their vows increased the like-
lihood that, weakened, that bond would break. For male regulars the
road to apostasy was often paved if not with good intentions, then
with good opportunities.
18
19
Albert Joseph Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives from Religious Institutes:
An Historical Conspectus and Commentary, The Catholic University of
America. Canon Law Studies 168 (Washington, DC: Catholic University
of America Press, 1942), 31.
20
Anacleto Gurzó, De Apostasia a Religione Et De Fuga: Dissertatio His-
torico-Juridica (Claudiopoli, Turkey: Typis Typographiae S. Bonaventu-
rae, 1943), 52–53.
conclusion 197
The trajectory from the permissible to the prohibited is perfectly

traceable in the career path of Friar Walter Durant, a Dominican from
Dartford Priory, Kent. In 1367, Durant appeared as an attorney repre-
senting his religious superior, the prior of Dartford, in a London debt
case.21 While canon law prohibited regulars from studying and prac-
ticing law, an exception was made if a man did so for the benefit of his
religious community and at the behest of his superior. Durant there-
fore was acting within the law when he went on to represent the prior-
ess and nuns of Dartford in Chancery and became general counsel for
the house. Apparently, however, he gradually stopped caring about
that technicality. In 1399, the provincial of the London Dominicans,
Prior William Pickworth, took out a writ de apostata capiendo, peti-
tioning the Crown for the arrest of Brother Walter Durant who,
having discarded his habit and left Dartford, was now an apostate at
large in the city of London.
Walter Durant was not alone in finding life in the secular sphere,
which his duties had permitted him to sample, preferable to life in
community. In 1328, John XXII charged Bishop Bartholomeo of Friuli
to take action against those Cistercian monks in his diocese who lived
as if they were secular merchants, empowering Bartholomeo to take
away the money and property that they had accumulated in defiance
of the canons and statutes of the order.22 The registers of Benedict
XII contain mandates for dealing with two regulars who, having
been sent away on monastic business, remained fugitives. Joannes
de Camporiano, professed monk of the order of Hospitalers of St.
Jerome, was not only an apostate but was known to have embezzled
funds, changed his name, and married using the alias; the apostate
friar Raymond Amelii, of the monastery of St. Polycarp, Narbonne,
was said to have put on many different habits and to have lived for
eight years as a member of the heretical sect of beghards.23
Finally, unlike that of nuns, male apostasy could feature extreme
violence in the context of monastic power plays. By decree of the
21
Elizabeth Makowski, English Nuns and the Law in the Middle Ages: Clois-
2011), 61–63.
22
John XXII, Pope and Auguste Léonel Coulon, Lettres Secrètes Et Curiales
Relatives À La France (Paris: A. Fontemoing, 1906), 1328, 3732:17.
23
Benedict XII, Letterae Communes 1337, 5031:470; Benedict XII Bullarii
1338, 6512:126.
Council of Vienne (1311–1313), Pope Clement V had excommunicated

a number of Benedictine monks who had become apostates and who
were “frequenting the courts of princes.” With the support of these
powerful lay lords, the fugitives had succeeded in extorting money
and valuables from their former superiors by threatening them with
imprisonment and by actually burning monastic buildings.24 In 1350,
the abbot of Winchcombe Abbey, Gloucester, took out writs for the
arrest of Simon de Lega and Thomas de Malmeshull, two apostate
monks who had attempted to ambush him and his servants.25 Between
1363 and 1366, the Benedictine community of Whitby was split into
two factions, with the head of the opposition, the apostate Thomas
Hawksgarth, leading an armed gang against the abbot.26 And in 1340,
Benedict XII directed the bishops of Tournai and Thérouanne to pro-
ceed against the apostate Cistercian monk, Peter Peit, who had been
condemned to prison by the General Chapter but whose various sup-
porters had stormed the monastery, then beaten and ejected the abbot
when he resisted their attempts to pillage the house.27
While these cases are among the more sensational, they illustrate
that both in terms of their numbers and their character, male apos-
tates posed an especially thorny problem for ecclesiastical authorities
in the later Middle Ages. Legislation by late medieval popes designed
to redouble efforts to restore apostates to their communities, episco-
pal sanctions, and synodal directives were supplemented by mecha-
nisms put into place by Provincial Generals. In 1363, for instance, the
Chapter of English Benedictines appointed a proctor to be perma-
nently stationed in Rome. His salary was paid by contributions from
individual houses and his exclusive special mandate was to arrange
for the forcible capture and return of any Benedictine monk who had
come unlicensed to the papal curia.28 Whether repentant or not, the
mortal danger to the soul of the apostate monk or nun coupled with
scandal to the Christian community, still justified their forced return.
Whether monastic superiors were welcoming or whether they
sternly opposed it, official Church policy still held; but still, the
24
Riesner, Apostates and Fugitives, 31.
25
C 81/1786/54. Logan, Runaway Religious, 190–191.
26
Harper-Bill, “Monastic Apostasy,” 12.
27
Benedict XII, Letterae Communes 1340, 8221:293.
28
Harper-Bill, “Monastic Apostasy,” 14–15.
conclusion 199
problem of vagrant regulars persisted. When Bishop Alnwick vis-

ited Wellow Abbey, Lincoln, in 1440 his interrogation of the abbot
revealed the following about a wayward member: “Brother Henry
Suttone, the abbot, says that Brother William Elkyngton, who had
leave to journey to the court [of Rome], came back again and [was]
admitted. Going forth a second time without leave and coming back
again, he was admitted; and the third time he went forth in apostasy
and never returned, but still abides continually in apostasy.”29
What was the abbot of Wellow to do if the twice-apostate Brother
William should come back yet again? If he were to follow the coun-
sel of that most influential exponent of humane monastic practice, St.
Benedict, he would give him one, and only one, more chance to return
to his community. According to the Benedictine Rule, if a monk’s res-
olution failed him, and he abandoned his monastery, he had only to
repent, promise amendment, and reenter at the lowest rank “so his
humility may be put to the test.” If that same monk should fail again,
and leave again, he was to be readmitted a second time, in like fashion
since “the abbot must take care, with diligence and cautious practi-
cal wisdom, not to lose any of his flock … remembering that he has
undertaken the care of sick souls, not the repression of healthy ones.”
But Benedict also recognized that such efforts at re-integration and
restoration, of endeavoring to bring the apostate back to his promise,
had their limits. Abbots were to make them no more than three times;
after that, the apostate’s burden of sin would be his alone to carry and
the erstwhile regular would be “forever forbidden re-entry.”30
The theoretical purity of Benedict’s template for the vowed life well
lived probably corresponded to practice as little in his own day as in
the late Middle Ages. In both eras, however, the saint’s high stand-
ards regarding free-choice entry into religious life were held dear
and acknowledged both morally and canonically. Not so his stand-
ards with respect to defaulting on one’s vows, to leaving religious
life. When dealing with monks and nuns who broke their vows and
became runaway religious, the late medieval Church parted ways with
St. Benedict. There were dissenting voices of course. There were those
like Prior Wessington of Durham, who admitted that he didn’t even
Visitations of Religious Houses, 2:391.

29
St. Benedict, The Rule of St. Benedict in English, ed. Timothy Fry (Colle-
30
geville: Liturgical Press, 1982), Chapters 58 and 29 respectively.

try to get apostates back for fear of what malcontents might do to the
morale of his community.31 There were superiors like the prioress of
Rothwell, who despite a bishop’s mandate, allowed a superficially
penitent but feckless apostate to slip out of her confinement and back
into the world.32 There were canonists, like Niccolas de Tudeschi, who
averred that all vows, even solemn vows of religious profession, might
be dispensed from for the sake of a greater good.33 But the full articu-
lation of that argument, and the formal mechanism for exclaustration,
were the products of the early modern and not the medieval Church.
Known, revered, and cited by virtually every late medieval commen-
tator on monasticism, the Rule of St. Benedict was, in this respect,
disregarded. When discussing legislation that compelled all apostate
religious to return to the vowed life, the canonists began with the Rule,
but did not end with it. Perhaps they should have.
31
Harper-Bill, “Monastic Apostasy,” 17.
32
See Chapter 5 for details about Joan Horncastle and the prioress.
33
James Martin Lowry, Dispensation from Private Vows; a Historical Synop-
sis and Commentary (The Catholic University of America Press, 1947), 48.
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Index
abbesses: bound by rules of diverse reasons for apostasy 183–

enclosure 13 4
abduction 88–90 enforced return 174, 178–9, 189
Adderbury, George 191 freedom to leave monastic
Adelheit (of Helmstat) 113 life 193
Agnes of Clivedon 65, 68 and invalidation of profession 3
Albert, rector of Zvolle 139 legal sources, x
Alcock, John, bishop of Ely 127 permanent 182
Alcuin 45 protected 181
Alexander III, Pope 46–7 punishments and penances 151–
Alice of Everyngham 66–70, 193 7, 163–7, 190
Alnwick, William, bishop of remain in secular world 168
Norwich 105–6, 180, 199 return to monasteries and
Alvastra, Sweden 80 reintegration 137–41, 146–7,
Amelii, Raymond 197 150–1, 156–8, 175–8, 188–90
Ampleford, Agnes de 115 vagabond 149–50
Andreae, Johannes 146–7, 151 ApRice (Price), Sir John 130
Andrew, John 84–5 arma Christi 164
Ankerwyk: Benedictine priory 179 Arthington priory, Yorkshire 165–
Apelgarth, Sabia de 115, 190 6, 170–1, 173, 191
apostasia a religio 2 Astom, Mailda 93
apostasy Atwater, William, bishop of
and canon law 16, 31–2 Lincoln 180, 191
men and women 12, 195–8 Augsburg 19
and motherhood 95 Augustine, St: Rule 32
motives for 77, 131–4 Augustinian Order
and rejection of vowed life 2, 31 and enforced enclosure 52–4
repeated 166 Observant reforms 120, 177
triggered by love or sexual penances 163
desire 194 visitations 18
unreported 180 Avignon 113–14, 168
apostate nuns
cases, viii Baldewyn, Robert 90–1
compromised returnees 159 Barking, abbess of 109
consignment to perpetual Bartenbechin, Margareta 61, 94–6,
punishment 163 194
and contrition 142 Bartholomeo, bishop of Friuli 197
218 index
Bartolomea de Bovacchiesi, abbess and readmission of apostate

of Santa Margherita 100 nuns 156
Barton, Alice de, prioress of and supervision of
Moxby 115 monasteries 16–17, 19, 70, 92
Barton, Joan de 115 Black Death 111–12, 178
Basel, Council of (1442) 56 Blaket, Roger (of
Battistina (Poor Clares nun) 94, Rickmansworth) 72
194 Blaket v. Loveday et al. 72
Baume-les-Dames monastery, Blaunkfront (Blankefronte),
Besançon 3, 48 Joan 115–16
Beach, Alison 6 Blumenfeld-Kosinski, Renate 8, 121
Beatrice of Burgundy 3–5, 48–9 Bolington (Bullington; Bolynton)
Beattie, Cordelia: Medieval Single priory 90
Women: The Politics of Bollen, Gottfried 71
Social Classification in Late Bollen, Jutta (of Utrecht) 71
Medieval England, ix 74 Boniface VIII, Pope
Bebarden, Mechlegen de 125 decree on enforcing strict
beguines 4, 60, 62–3 enlosure of nuns (1298), vii,
Behmyn (of Helmstat) 113 11–14, 106, 119–20, 171, 184
Belknap, Robert 57–8 proclaims Holy Year or Jubilee
Belmont monastery, Langres 114 (1300) 109
Belvero, Raynald de 68 on wearing monastic dress 36
Benedict, St Bornstein, Daniel 6, 8
on apostasy 10 Bowes, Agnes, prioress
on commitment to monastic of Worthorpe,
life 30, 199 Northampton 112–13
penances 163 Braşov (Kronstadt,
reforming constitutions 177 Brassó) monastery,
Rule 27, 145, 151–2, 199–200 Transylvania 117–18
Benedict XII, Pope 197–8 Braybrooke, Robert de, bishop of
Pastor bonus (bull) 19, 142, 150, London 59, 83–4
175–7 Bridgettine Order
Benedictine Order constitutions of Syon 19
aristocratic women in 81 wealthy women in 80–1
English proctor in Rome 198 Briges, Andrew de, canon of
monasteries 56 Winchester 169
readmission of apostates 199 Brixen monastery 124
Rule 26, 32, 146–7, 199 Bronope: Augustinian convent
visitations 18 (Utrecht) 52
Berghby, Isabella de 165, 191 Brotherton Joan de 115, 166–7
Berman, Constance 7 Brous, Thomas 144
Bernadino of Siena 119–20 Brus, Avelina de 116
Bernard of Clairvaux: On Loving Bruys, Bernard 90
God 1 Bruys, Elizabeth and Ellen 90
Beverley, John de (of St Mary’s Bruys, Joan 89–91, 103
Abbey, York) 71 Bruys, John 90
Biczlin, Dorothea 95 Buck, Margery 54
bishops Buckingham, John, bishop of
examine petitions for Lincoln 66–70, 87
invalidation of vows 48, 73 Buckland Priory, Somerset 51–2
and inheritance disputes 83 Buczutus, Marinus 97–8
index 219
Bulletin de la Société Vaudoise 17 Champagne: Cistercian convents

Burnham Abbey, founded 148
Buckinghamshire 72, 87 Chancery 48, 74, 82, 87, 89
Bursfeld 120 chastity: vow of 27, 29, 31
Burton, Janet 6, 75 Chaucer, Geoffrey 109
Burton, William, canon of Cherlton, Robert and Elizabeth
London 86 de 88
Busch, Johannes 21, 122–4, 183 children: commitment to monastic
accompanies Gertude Gensen on life 28–9, 34, 186–7
return to monastery 137–42, Cistercian Order
156, 190 asceticism 121, 148–9
and Sophie of Brunswick attracts aristocratic women 80
159–63 charity 76
Chronicon Windeshemense and compulsory return of
Und Liber de Reformatione apostates 174
Monasteriorum 16 exemption from episcopal
Buti, Francesco 99 oversight 18
Buti, Lucrezia: liaison and children reforming constitutions 177
with Fra Lippo Lippi 21, Clairvaux (Langres) 114
98–103, 181, 194–5 Clare of Assisi 121, 146
Buti, Spinetta 101 Clement V, Pope 11, 198
Butler (Butylere), Agnes 105, 180 Clement VI, Pope 110, 116
Butrio, Antonio de 146 Clementines 11
Byllyng, Brother Robert 180 Clerkenwell, prioress of (1331) 109
Bynum, Caroline 8, 121 Clivedon, Richard 65
Coerin, Margareta 107
Caccia, James 187 Colette of Corbie 8, 119, 127
Caioli, Padre Paolo 101 Common Life, Brothers and Sister
Camporiano, Joannes de 197 of the 62–3, 122, 192
canon law Common Pleas, court of 48, 57, 59,
adjudication by jurists 11 83–4
practical application regarding consilia (legal opinions) 16, 38–9,
apostasy 16 41–2
and religious status 28 Constance, bishop of 55
Canon, Ralph, canon of Wells 181 convents
canonical regulations: applied aristocratic women in 79–81
throughout Europe, viii 157 entrance fees 80
Canterbury: ecclesiastical court 48 material conditions 149
Canterbury and York Society 18 rental incomes 76
Carthusian Order: austerity 1 Corbridge, Thomas, archbishop of
Cassetta, Salvo 96 York 156–7, 170–1, 173–4,
Cassian, St John 132 190
Castagnola, Gabriele: Filippo Lippi Cornworthy priory, Devon 173
and the nun Lucrezia Buti Corpus Christi (Augustinian
(painting) 103 convent) 40
Cauod, Agnes 109–10 Corpus Iuris Canonici, vii 10, 16, 36
causae spirituales 51 Cotnall, Brother William 93
Cavazza, Sister Christina 105 Coton nunnery (Cistercian) 112
certifications, viii Coulonges monastery, Langres 114
Chalcedon, Council of (451) 16 Crackelynge, Johanna 93
Chambeleyn, Robert 188 Crakenholme, Joan de 165, 182
220 index
Cranmer, Alice, prioress of Minster variation 32–3

Thanet, Kent 130 wearing enforced 36–9
Cranmer, Thomas, archbishop of Dunn, Caroline: Stolen Women in
Canterbury 129 Medieval England: Rape,
Cromwell, Thomas 15, 128 Abduction and Adultery,
Crouel, Joan 116 1100–1500, ix 88
Cruseler, Georgine 53, 75 Durant, Friar Walter 197
Cultz, Fia de 125
Cum de quibusdam (decree) 62 Easebourne Priory, Sussex 92–3,
cura monialilum 76 104
Curson, Sir John 58–9, 76 ecclesiastical persons 30
Cusanus, Cardinal Legate Eckenstein, Lina: Women Under
Nicolas 123–4 Monasticism 5
Egbert, rector of Deventer 139
Dalderby, John, bishop of Elkyngton, Brother William 199
Lincoln 73, 171–4 Elnstowe, abbess of (1329) 109
Daneport, Constance de (of England
Pontefract) 170–1, 173, 182, enforced return of
194 apostates 178–9
Darel, Alice 156–7, 174, 190 and inheritance claims by
Dartford priory 197 nuns 82–3
Dayvill, Eleanor 116 legal records of apostasy, viii 17–
Dayvill, Isabella 116–17, 152–3, 173, 21
190 monastic visitations 17–18
de apostata capiendo (writ), ix, 12, socially privileged convents 81
20, 57, 66–7, 178 Ergham, Ralph, bishop of Bath and
Dearoche, Paul: Filippo Lippi Falling Wells 51–2
in Love with his Model Erickson, Carolly 185
(painting) 103 Ermine de Reims 8, 121
decretals 11 Eucharistic prayer 25
Dene, Stephen de, rector of Eugenius IV, Pope 101, 129, 195
Abbotstone 169 Ewelme, Thomas 180
Denny Abbey 130 excommunication
Derneburg, Netherlands 123, 162 of apostates 2, 13, 73–4, 170
Desert Mothers and Fathers 27 for discarding habit 39
Devotio Moderna (New for unauthorised transfer to
Devotion) 122 another monastery 41
Diamante, Fra 99 exsilium (banishment
Dominican Order to neighbouring
nuns follow Augustinian Rule 32 monastery) 152–3
Observant reforms 120, 125, 178 Extravagantes 11
and penitentiary petitions 20
Third Order 64, 95–6 famine: effect on religious
visitations 18 houses 168–9, 184
Donahue, Charles 17 Farewell: Benedictine
Doven, Gertrud 59–62, 64, 191 monastery 180
dowries 71 Felton, Mary de 57–9, 76
dress (monastic) Felton, Thomas 59
discarding and resuming 39 Ferring, Thomas 181
as sign of commitment 29–30, Field, Sean 6
34–5 Finnegan, Mary Jeremy 7
index 221
Fischbeck nunnery, Netherlands 12, Gowryng, Jane 131

156, 190 Gratian: Decretum 10
Flixthorpe, Agnes of (alias de Gray, William, bishop of Ely 150
Wissenden) 171–3, 179, Great Schism (papal) 128
182 Greenfield, William of, archbishop
Florea, Carmen 117 of York 106, 165, 190
Foligno nunnery, Italy 125 Gregory IX, Pope
Fontevrault monastery, on monastic habit 33–4
Normandy 90 publishes Liber Extra 11, 28
France Ne religiosi vagandi
and enforced return of (decretal) 146, 150, 175
apostates 179 Gregory XI, Pope 178
war in 168 Gregory XII, Pope 177
well-born women in Grene, Joan 90
convents 80 Grene, Nicholas 90–1
Franciscan Order Gretton, Cecily 180
incarcerates recalcitrant Griffiths, Fiona 6
runaways 175 Grote, Gewert 122
Observant movements 119 Grunte, Friar Jacob 188
penances 163 Gualdi, Antonio: Fra Filippo
and penitentiary petitions 20 Lippi and Lucrezia Buti
persuasive recruiting powers 185 (painting) 103
reforming constitutions 177 Guidardi, Ugone, archbishop of
Third Order 63–4 Benevento 97
visitations 18 Guido de Baysio 36–7
Frauenalb: Benedictine Guillelmonae, Guillelmetae 177
monastery 56 Gutta of Schefeverin 177
Free Companies: depradations 113 Gynewell, John, bishop of
Frensh, Giles 87–8 Lincoln 91, 111–13
Fyshill, Alice, abbess of Wintney
priory, Hampshire 181–2 Hadmar von Absberg 53
Haghen, Henric 139–40
Gascelyn, Christina 83 Hampole priory, Yorkshire 115–16,
Gascelyn, Geoffrey 83 167
Gensen, Gertrude: Busch Handale convent, Yorkshire 116–17,
accompanies on return to 152, 173
monastery 138–42, 163, 190 Harrold priory, Lincoln 54
Germany Harryes, John 106
daughters from nobility become Haunsard, John 112
nuns 79–80 Haunton, Brother Robert 188–9
Penitentiary supplications 20 Haverholme (Haverholy) priory,
Gilchrist, Roberta 8, 9, 148 Lincoln 66–8
Gender and Material Hawksgarth, Thomas 198
Culture 149 Healaugh priory, Yorkshire 190
Glossa Ordinaria 2, 34 Hedsor, Margery 72–3, 82–3, 193
Golding manor, Heidenheimer, Friedrich 56, 75, 183
Buckinghamshire 86 Helewell, Peter de 173
Gorne, Margarita 95 Henry IV, King of England 81
Gothurst manor, Hinnebusch, William 5
Buckinghamshire 86 Hirstall monastery, Konstanz 126
Gottfried of Cologne 71 Holland, Robert 54, 77
222 index
Holland, Sir Thomas and Joan, Kespenbach, Barbara 95

Lady 112 King, Philippa 93
Homoden, Margarita 95 Kirbybiden, Norfolk 57–9
Horim, Margaretha 95, 141 Kirchheim convent 125
Horncastle, Joan 143–5, 156, 163–4, Knowles, Dom David 5
173, 179, 190 Kynynfield, Alice de 180
Hostiensis 146
Hrotsvit of Gandersheim: Abraham Langtoft, Margaret de 116
(play) 137 Lark, Barbara 131
Hubbart, Alice 180 Lateran Council, Third (1179) 128
Hueberin, Elizabeth 126, 188 Lateran Council, Fourth (1215),
Huesca, bishop of 465 vii 28, 32, 79
Humberstone abbey 180 Lathom, Elizabeth 58
Hundred Years War (1337–1453) 19, Lathom, Isabel 58
113 lay orders and communities
Huntercombe, Elizabeth (de (mulieres religiosae; quasi-
Cherlton) 87–8 religious communities) 60–3
Huntercombe, John 87 Lega, Simon de 198
Huntercombe, Maud 87–8, 103 Legh, Thomas 130
Hyll, Thomas 86 Lehmijoki-Gardner, Maiju 95
Hywyssh, Joyce 83–5, 103, 193 Lengin, Barbara 127
Hywyssh, Sir Richard de 84 Lester, Anne 7, 80, 148
Hywyssh, William de 84 Liber Extra 11, 28, 46
Liber Sextus 13, 28, 33, 36
inheritance laws and issues 51, 79, Lincoln diocese 72
82–7 Lincoln Record Society 18
Innocent IV, Pope 33–4, 174 Lippi, Alessandra 101
Inocent VIII Pope 126, 186 Lippi, Filippino 98, 101–2, 183
Ipswich: Carmelite priory 186 Lippi, Fra Filippo 21, 98–103, 195
Isabelle, Princess of France 80 Madonna Giving her Girdle to St.
Italy: unsettled state 113 Thomas (painting) 101
Logan, F. Donald: Runaway
Jarkesmill, Agnes de 115 Religious in Medieval
Joannes Franciscus de Pavinis: De England 1240–1540, ix, 10, 20,
visitatione episcoporum 17 89, 131
Johannes Andreae: Novella in Lombostel, Elsa de 125
Sextum 34–5, 37, 42 London, Synod of (1399) 179
Johannes de Scheylberg 53 Longchamp abbey, France 81
Johannes von Minden 120 Lopez, Elizabeth 7
John of Capistrano 120 Luffewyk, William 143
John XXII, Pope 11, 37, 197 Lyndwood, William 35
Jubilee years 109–10 Lyon, Second Council of (1274)
judges 38, 42 28
see also consilia
Julius II, Pope 178 ‘malevolent people’: oppose
petitions for release 50
Keldhome priory, Yorkshire 154 Malmeshull, Thomas de 198
Kemp, John, archbishop of York Mangiaseroe, Francisca 97–8
(and of Canterbury) 110, 141 Mantegazza, Giovannangelo 94
Kempis, Thomas à 27 Margareta de la Scarpa of Arezzo 3,
Kerr, Bernice 6 50–2
index 223
Marham (Norfolk) 18 Morris, Bridget 7

Mariensee monastery, mortality rates: in times of
Brunswick 159, 162–3, 195 famine 168
Marienthal Augustinian convent Moserin, Magdalena 107, 163
(Cologne) 53 motherhood: and apostasy 95–6
Markyate priory, Lincoln 156, Mounceaux, Ella de 112
171 Moxby (Molseby) nunnery,
marriage: and religious Yorkshire 115, 116,
profession 31, 53–4, 64–5, 167–8
68, 70–5 Mueller, Joan 7
Martin V, Pope 186 Mülhofen, Mechtild de 125–6
Mayall, Laurent 9 Multone, Dame Agnes 106
Meaux Abbey 13 Muneworth, Margaret de 180
Medforde, Dame Clemence 180 Münsterlegen, Magdalena of see
Medici, Cosimo de 101 Payerin, Magdalena
Melton, William, archbishop of Münsterlingen Augustinian house,
York 115–16, 152–3, 155–6, Lake Constance 55
165–7, 173, 190 music: as diversion 105–6
men and boys: coerced into
monasteries 55 Narbonne: St Polycarp
mendicant friars 176 monastery 197
Merton, Thomas 26 Netherlands: New Devotion in 122
Metal, John 170, 182 Neusom, Margaret de 115
Middleton, Gilbert de, canon of St Neustadt 162–3
Paul’s 169 Neuwerk, Netherlands 12, 123
Milanesi, Gaetano 100–1 Nicholas IV, Pope 3, 49, 63
Minchin Barrow priory 83 see also consilia
Minoress Sisters 57 Nicholas V, Pope 113, 129, 195
monasteries Northburgh, Roger, bishop of
and contact with laymen 75–6 Lichfield 180
destitute 128 Norwich: social composition of
dispensations to leave 45–6, 48, nuns 81
129 novel disseisin (writ) 72
dissolution (England), ix, 15, novitiates
127–31 age 33–5
entrance fees 79 dress 33–4
as prison for non-vocational probationary period 29
entrants 45 Nowers, Amery (Almaricus;
under jurisdiction of bishops 16, Emery) 85–6
18–19 Nowers, Grace and Agnes 85–6, 193
unlicensed exit 2 Nowers, Sir John 85
visitations 17–18 Nun Appleton priory, N.
monastic life: commitment to 29– Yorkshire 75
30 Nuneaton monastery 91
monastic practice: established, vii Nunkeeling convent, Yorkshire 165,
monks 167
candidates under fourteen 33 nunneries
capacity to be ordained as contacts and hospitality 75–7
priests 14–15, 32, 129, 195 dissolved 127–8
studying 37–8 episcopal visits 92
Monteluce monastery, Perugia 125 visitation 18
224 index
nuns Paul II, Pope 109

abduction 88–90 Payerin, Magdalena (of
aristocratic 79–82 Münsterlegen) 55–7, 75, 82,
Boniface VIII enforces strict 183
enclosure 11–14, 106, 119–20, Peit, Peter 198
171, 184 penances 163–7, 170
breaks and diversions 105–7 penitential practices 121, 163
clandestine modifications of Periculoso (papal decree) 11–14,
behaviour 79 106–7
deaths from plagues 111 Peter of Blois 2n3
disaffected 78 Philbeam, Mary 131
disruptive effect of war on 113–15 Pianta monastery, Arezzo 50
dress adaptations 78 Pickworth, William 197
financial means and deliberate pilgrimages 105, 107–10, 196
poverty 147–8 Pirckheimer, Caritas, abbess of
forcibly removed from Nuremberg Poor Clare
convents 131 convent 131
granted extra claustrum Pius II, Pope 101–2, 129, 195
right 128–30 plague, the: effect on nuns and
inheritance claims 81–4 convents 110–13, 117–18, 184
licences to leave cloisters 14 Pontefract priory 194
motives for apostasy 77, 131–4 Poor Clares 32, 94, 119, 127
need for legal support 77 Poor Clare community,
Observant reforms 119–25, 127 Nuremberg 131
social status 184 Poor Clares convent, Wamell 71
as subject of study 5–9 Portsmouth, Johanna 93
transfer to other poverty: vow of 27, 29, 79, 82
monasteries 40–2 Preston, William 67
unable to become priests 14–15, Prestwich, Margaret 53–4, 77
195 Prestwold, William of, Master of
without grounds for renouncing Sempringham 66–70, 193
vows 78 Prick, Elizabeth 54
Nutley abbey 180 priests
male regulars as 195
obedience 26, 29 monks ordained as 14–15, 32,
Observant reform 119–24, 127 129
Oldradus de Ponte 38–9, 42 privilegium canonis 30
Oliva, Marilyn 7, 111, 148, 186 privilegium fori 30
Otterburg abbey 177 profession: forced 47, 54–5
Otto III, bishop of Constance 56 promises and oaths 40
property: inheritance lawsuits, viii
Paolina di Cola di Luca, Suor 142–3 Pryce, David 144
papacy
as central Christian authority 19 quasi-religious women see lay orders
and enforced return of and communities
apostates 175
papal letters of favor 176 Radewyns, Florence 122
Papal Penitentiary 11, 19–20, 48, 50, raptus (ravishment) 88–9
52, 55, 59, 94, 125, 141, 185 Rechentshofen 124
Parisse, Michel: Les Nonnes au recidivists 159–63, 166, 174
Moyen Age 5 reform see Observant reform
index 225
Reformation: professed nuns reenter San Lorenzo: Poor Clare

secular society in England 15 monastery 143
Religionum diverstitatem San Quirce, Spain 80
(decree) 28 Sancharano, Petrus: Super Sexto
Repertorium Poenitentiariae Decretalium 37n31
Germanicum (RPG) 20 Sancho IV, King of Spain 81
Repingdon, Philip, bishop of Santa Margherita monastery,
Lincoln 86, 143–5, 155, 163, Prato 100
193 Santa Maria de las Huelgas,
Richard II, King of England 70 Spain 80
Richard of Dromore, bishop 86 Santa Maria degli Angeli monastery,
Riesner, A.J.: Apostates and Perugia 125
Fugitives from Religious Santa Maria del Carmine
Institutes 9 monastery 100–2
Rijnsburg Abbey 80, 124 Schenkin de Erbach, Ursula (of
Rippinghale, Alice de 116 Mainz) 56, 64, 75
Rode, Johannes 120 Schmugge, Ludwig 20
Roger of York, canon of Scotland: wars of independence
Healaugh 190 (14th century) 115
Rome: pilgrimages to 109–10, 196 Scrop, Geoffrey 68
Rosedale priory, Yorkshire 115–17, Scrope, Eleanor, abbess 57
152, 167–8, 190 Secclern, Anna 126, 188
Rothwell: Augustinian convent 143– Seckendorfferin, Barbara 107, 141
4, 147, 163, 179, 200 Sempringham, Master of see
Ryver, Joan de la 65 Prestwold, William of
Ryver, Richard de la 65 Seton Priory, Cumberland 53
Ryver, Thomas de la 65 sexual liaisons 79, 93–4, 98–103
Shaftesbury abbey, Dorset 65
St. Albans, abbot of 72 Sillow, John 186
St. Anthony of Eboli monastery 97 Sixtus IV, Pope 96
St. Apollinareus monastery, Smyth, John 93
Milan 119 Soest, Jacob von 192
St. Clement priory, Yorkshire 153 Somer, Frances 131
St. Helene’s convent, Bishopsgate, Sonnenburg, Tyrol 123
London 83 Sophie of Brunswick: apostasy 21,
St. Jerome, Order of 107 95, 159–63, 166–7, 182, 195
S. Marie de Capella monastery, Sothill (Suthulle; Huthhulle),
Naples 97 James 66–8, 70
St. Mary Olivet: Benedictine Southern, R.W. 5
monastery 178 Spain:, heritable chattels and land
St. Mary of Saragossa priory 46 revenues 79
St. Michael’s nunnery, Standente, Dame Isabel 179
Stamford 112–13, 127, 172–3, Stangrond, John (alias Bailand)
179 129
St. Neot priory 180 Stodley, Isabella de 153
St. Nicholas-in-Undis monastery, Story, Edward, bishop of
Strasbourg 131 Chichester 92–3
St. Radegund Priory, Stretton, Robert de, bishop of
Cambridge 127 Coventry and Lichfield 53–4
Salerno 97 Strolunz, Emengard 177
San Damiano convent, Italy 121, 148 Sturmy, John 57–9
226 index
Styl, Clarice 51–2, 58 vagabondage 178

Style, N. (servant) 93 Vasari, Giorgio: Lives of the
Sülte priory, Brunswick 160 Artists 21, 99–102
Supra montem (papal bull) 63 Vauxbons monastery, Langres 114
Surtees Society 18 Venarde, Bruce 8, 80
Suttone, Henry, abbot of Wellow Venice: aristocratic nuns 80
Abbey 199 Vienne, Council of (1311–12) 11, 62,
Swestriones 192 198
Swine nunnery, Yorkshire 103 vim et metum (force and fear) 46–9,
Syon monastery 81 58–9, 89
violence: at shrines 108
Tang, Margaret de 165–6 Virgin Mary Pons Salutis monastery,
Tarazona, bishop of 46–7 Speyer 125–6
Tarrant Keynes (Dorset) 18 vocation 45
Tart monastery, Langres Voegtin, Barbara 114–15
diocese 114, 168 vows
Tauke, Agnes 92–3 enforced 64, 185
Terouanne Morinen, cardinal of 69 invalidation on grounds of
tertiary communities (Third coercion 47–9
Orders) 4, 60, 62–4, 95–6 and marital status 64
Thicket priory, Yorkshire 156, 165, nullification of 78
174, 182, 190 of profession 35, 42
Thoresby, John, archbishop of rationale and nature 25–7, 29
York 67, 760 as requirement for entrance into
Thornyf, Katherine 110, 141, 196 religion 28
timore mortis (fear of death) 47 underage 53–4, 64, 68
tithes 76 Vreta, Sweden 80
Torriani, Joachim 96
Tortona: Poor Clare convent 94 Walle, Stephan de 60
Toucotes, Joan de 115 war: effect on nuns and
travel: dangers of 108 convents 113–18, 168, 184
Tregorrek, John 84 Warr, Cordelia 8, 32
Tregos, John 84 Warren, Nancy Bradley 6, 76
Trucessen, Katherina of (of Weissfrauenkloster, Aachen 54
Bamberg) 53, 64, 75, 183 Wellow Abbey, Lincoln 199
Tudeschi, Nicholas de 146–7, 200 Wesenham, Hugh and Agnes 90–1
Tyttesbury, Katherine 150–1 Wessington, John, prior of
Tyverington, Maud de (of Durham 100
Keldhome priory, Whitby abbey 198
Yorkshire) 154–5 Wickwane, William, archbishop of
York 75
Ude, John 84 Wienhausen 123–4
Urban V, Pope 19, 67–8, 113–14, William, Duke of Brunswick 141,
168, 188 159, 162
Urban VIII, Pope 15, 15178 Winchcombe Abbey, Gloucester 198
Ut periculoso (papal fiat) 11–12, Windesheim monastery,
36–9, 41, 196 Netherland 122–3
index 227
Winston-Allen, Anne 6 Wurm, Anna 131

Wintertur, Greda 177 Wynkens, Ida 52
Wintney priory, Hampshire 169,
181 Yda of Cologne 71
Wnandi, Alheydis (of Utrecht) 4, York: ecclesiastical court 48
60–2, 64, 191 Yorkshire
Woodcock, Henry, bishop of nuns transferred during Scottish
Winchester 169 war of independence 115–16
Worsley, Alice 58 nuns uncloistered 13
Worsley, Geoffrey 58
Worsley, Robert 58 Zabarella, Cardinal Francesco: legal
Worthorpe priory, opinions 16, 38, 40–2
Northampton 112, 127 Zacz, Johannes 56, 75
writ system: in England, ix Zurich: Benedictine monastery 56
Other volumes in
Details of volumes I–XXIX can be found on our website.
XXX: The Culture of Medieval English Monasticism

Edited by James G. Clark
XXXI: A History of the Abbey of Bury St Edmunds, 1182–1256:

Samson of Tottington to Edmund of Walpole
Antonia Gransden
XXXII: Monastic Hospitality:

The Benedictines in England, c.1070–c.1250
Julie Kerr
XXXIII: Religious Life in Normandy, 1050–1300:

Space, Gender and Social Pressure
Leonie V. Hicks
XXXIV: The Medieval Chantry Chapel: An Archaeology

Simon Roffey
XXXV: Monasteries and Society in the British Isles

in the Later Middle Ages
Edited by Janet Burton and Karen Stöber
XXXVI: Jocelin of Wells: Bishop, Builder, Courtier

Edited by Robert Dunning
XXXVII: War and the Making of Medieval Monastic Culture

Katherine Allen Smith
XXXVIII: Cathedrals, Communities and Conflict

in the Anglo-Norman World
Edited by Paul Dalton, Charles Insley and Louise J. Wilkinson
XXXIX: English Nuns and the Law in the Middle Ages:
Cloistered Nuns and Their Lawyers, 1293–1540
Elizabeth Makowski
XL: The Nobility and Ecclesiastical Patronage

in Thirteenth-Century England
Elizabeth Gemmill
XLI: Pope Gregory X and the Crusades

Philip B. Baldwin
XLII: A History of the Abbey of Bury St Edmunds, 1257–1301:

Simon of Luton and John of Northwold
Antonia Gransden
XLIII: King John and Religion

Paul Webster
XLIV: The Church and Vale of Evesham, 700–1215:

Lordship, Landscape and Prayer
David Cox
XLV: Medieval Anchorites in their Communities

Edited by Cate Gunn and Liz Herbert McAvoy
XLVI: The Friaries of Medieval London:

From Foundation to Dissolution
Nick Holder
XLVII: ‘The Right Ordering of Souls’:

The Parish of All Saints’ Bristol on the Eve of the Reformation
Clive Burgess
XLVIII: The Lateran Church in Rome and the Ark of the Covenant:
Housing the Holy Relics of Jerusalem, with an edition and translation
of the Descriptio Lateranensis Ecclesiae (BAV Reg. Lat. 712)
Eivor Andersen Oftestad

Apostate Nuns in The Later Middle Ages

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Part I The Vowed Life

Part II Casting Off the Habit of Religion

Part III Prodigals Return

established. By the close of the thirteenth century, standardized norms

is the writ system. Enlisting the cooperation of secular authorities for

of apostate nuns from their monasteries. And apostate nuns read-

I gratefully acknowledge the research opportunities and finan-

I appreciate the informed criticisms of anonymous readers of

BF Bullarium Franciscanum, ed. Konrad Eubel (Rome: Typis

CPR Calendar of Patent Rolls Preserved in the Public Record Office

1 Hoc quippe ad aeternam justamque Dei legem pertinuit, ut qui a Deo

freely, were never to be freely abandoned; as the Glossa Ordinaria, the

3 GO ad X 3.34.6. Peter of Blois expressed it eloquently: “It is unsuitable for

More rarely, but no less poignantly, we will also encounter qua-

5 Elizabeth Makowski, “A Pernicious Sort of Woman”: Quasi-Religious

conscious choice. Their apostasy was almost unintentional. Some had

7 For examples beginning in the Middle Ages themselves, see Graciela S.

a cultural conservativism and a sectarian edge common to the era,

10 C. H. Lawrence, Medieval Monasticism: Forms of Religious Life in Western

Institutional and organizational distinctions among female monas-

English Society: The Dominican Priory of Dartford (York: York Medieval

plinary and geographical boundaries, historians like Roberta Gilchrist

Institute, St. Bonaventure University, 2011). Mary Jeremy Finnnegan, The

20 Lopez, Colette of Corbie. Cordelia Warr, Dressing for Heaven: Religious

out some of the gendered distinctions it implies is Donald Logan’s

22 F. Donald Logan, Runaway Religious in Medieval England, c. 1240–1540

24 James A. Brundage, Medieval Origins of the Legal Profession: Canonists,

was extended to include nuns as well.25 If apostates, male or female,

25 VI 3.24.2. See also Chapter 1 for an in-depth review of this important

and individually.” It sought to restrict both exit from and entrance

“refused to be bound by regulations stricter than those that they had

30 John Tillotson, “Visitation and Reform of the Yorkshire Nunneries in the

religious houses in their dioceses and any conscientious prelate con-

37 Makowski, Canon Law, 95–99.

records have survived and are generally found in episcopal registers,

Another problem with evidence generated by episcopal oversight

English Dominican province are extant according to Jane E. Sayers, Law

of dispensations, absolutions, and licenses, for laity and religious,

44 Ludwig Schmugge, Paolo Ostinelli, and Hans Braun. Repertorium Poeni-

The Vowed Life

Preface to the Canon of the Mass, Eucharistic Prayer II

Spiritual Ideal and Legal Realities

A clear reminder of the nexus between obligation and salvation,

That rationale is part and parcel of a monastic ideal, born in Eastern

Similarly, the two other standard monastic vows of chastity and

developments during the period of canonical systemization begun in

Au Moyen Age: Islam, Byzance, Occident, ed. George Makdisi, Dominique

siastical persons rested on religious profession faced clear restrictions

As with tacit profession, these variations in practice were grudg-

Commentators, 1298–1545 (Washington: The Catholic University of Amer-

manumitted serf, to produce a summary of the canonical paths to full