scholarly journals Prilozi proučavanju crkve Svetog Mateja u Splitu

Ars Adriatica ◽  
2011 ◽  
pp. 67
Author(s):  
Ivan Basić

The church of St Matthew, which stood next to the south entrance to Split cathedral until 1881, was constructed between the peripteros and temenos of Diocletian’s mausoleum, along its east-west axis. A large number of pre-existing structures in the church of St Matthew and their degree of preservation indicate that it was erected at the beginning of the early middle ages, when the original layout of diocletian’s building had been well preserved. The church was the original setting for the sarcophagus with the epitaph of Archbishop John from the second half of the eighth century, which can be linked to the restorer of the Salonitan archbishopric in Split, John of Ravenna, who is mentioned by Thomas, the Archdeacon of Split, in his thirteenth-century chronicle, Historia Salonitana. The analysis of the sources relevant for the burial place of Archbishop John of Ravenna (the fourteenth-century chronicle of A. Cutheis and his catalogue of the archbishops of Split) showed that the data from these records are also of early medieval origin. The chronological frame in which the formula carved on the lid of the Archbishop’s sarcophagus existed, its epigraphic features and comparisons with the deceased’s epitaph, link it with the time when the longer inscription and the decoration of the sarcophagus front were carved - the end of the eighth century, and point to Archbishop John (c. 787) as the likeliest owner of the sarcophagus.  The choice of place for the sarcophagus of prior Peter, immediately next to the entrance to the church of St Matthew, in the ninth century, as well as the decoration and its relationship with the epitaph inspired by that on the sarcophagus of Archbishop john, corroborate that the prior’s sarcophagus was later than that of the Archbishop and the church in which it stood. The description of the church’s interior by D. Farlati in the eighteenth century, together with other indications, confirms that the sarcophagus and the church were made at the same  time, and that the Archbishop’s tomb was originally envisaged within the architectural setting of this church where an arcosolium contributed to its monumentality. The iconographic variant of the crossed-lily decoration and its specific symbolism originated in early christian Ravenna, which corresponds not only to the origin of the  Archbishop buried in the chapel but to the dedication to St Matthew, also of ravennate provenance, which creatively matches the iconographic programme of the sarcophagus. Thus, the sarcophagus, the church of St Matthew and John of Ravenna are connected to John,  the Archbishop of Split in the late eighth century.

Ars Adriatica ◽  
2013 ◽  
pp. 7
Author(s):  
Ana Mišković

The sacristy is an ancillary but also a necessary liturgical space in every religious complex. Judging from late-antique and early-medieval written records, a chamber adjacent to the façade or the east end (frequently one of the pastophoria) of the main congregational church had the function of a sacristy. In the regions practising the Western rite, the sacristy was located next to the church façade. It housed liturgical vessels, ecclesiastical objects, liturgical vestments for the clergy and books. The sacristy was the place where priests were robed for the eucharistic celebration and from which they emerged in the solemn procession marking the beginning of the service. In the West, the sacristy was not the place where the gifts of the congregation were accepted; instead, they brought them to the church’s chancel screen. on the other hand, in the east, the additional function of the sacristy was that of the place where gifts were presented (prothesis). Therefore, the congregation had access to it so that they could deposit their offerings which the clergy then carried to the altar. In any case, in the West and east alike, there was no separate room set aside exclusively for the offerings of the congregation. In fact, it cannot be said that the prothesis and diaconicon – the chambers flanking the presbytery – had the function of a sacristy at this point because they appeared in Byzantine architecture only in the early middle ages. Constantinopolitan sources confirm that a liturgical reform took place between the first three decades of the eighth century, that is, the office of Patriarch Germanus i, and the mid-tenth century reign of emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus: the previously unified liturgical function of the sacristy split into two. Therefore, the application of the terms prothesis and diaconicon to the chambers (pastophoria) flanking the main apse in early Christian architecture should be discarded.  Focusing on the example of the chamber situated next to the façade of the early Christian Cathedral in the episcopal complex at Zadar, it can be noted that its architecture and function were that of a sacristy, especially if one compares it to liturgical documents from Rome (Ordines romani). This chamber and its location are interpreted on the basis of the historical records of local chroniclers who mention a custom of offerings – the so-called Varina – during the office of Bishop Felix, and all of this, taken together, suggests that in the earliest Christian times the Church of Zadar practised a romanstyle Westernrite.


Ars Adriatica ◽  
2014 ◽  
pp. 15 ◽  
Author(s):  
Marija Kolega

Archaeological excavations in the complex of the Arch Parish Church of St Asel discovered an entire early Christian complex consisting of a north singlecellchurch and, to its south, a group of baptismal buildings which was soon transformed into a longitudinal building with an eastern apse. A number of remodelling interventions between the sixth and the eighth century confirm that the early Christian church and its baptistery survived the turbulent centuries of the Migration Period. The next major building phase was identified during the conservation works carried out on the church walls and there is no doubt that it occurred at the turn of the ninth century when the church became the cathedral of the Croatian bishop. Both churches, the north and the south, were provided with new stone furnishings while the baptismal font was altered so as to conform to the liturgical changes which were introduced into the baptismal rite. Archaeological evidence has demonstrated that the font remained in use until the sixteenth century when the apse of the south church was destroyed to make way for the chapel of Our Lady of Zečevo (1510-1530). The buildings to the south suffered a major destruction in 1780 when the Lady chapel was extended at the expense of its north wall which was torn down and the southern structure was cut in half.


2013 ◽  
pp. 28-48 ◽  
Author(s):  
Jonathan Healey

Troutbeck in the Lake District has a long run of landholding records, dating from the village's first appearance in the thirteenth century until modern times. This article uses these to recreate the nature of landholding across a broad span of history from the high Middle Ages to the end of the eighteenth century. It finds that numbers of customary landholders continued to grow despite the recurrent disasters of plague, famine and war in the fourteenth century, and showed growth again between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The seventeenth century then brought two major changes: there were a growing number of subtenants up until the 1620s. Then, after old restrictions on the parcelling of tenements were lifted in the 1670s, landholdings started to fragment, and a group of small customary landholders developed and survived into the eighteenth century.


2004 ◽  
Vol 40 ◽  
pp. 95-105
Author(s):  
Margaret Harvey

It is often forgotten that the medieval Church imposed public penance and reconciliation by law. The discipline was administered by the church courts, among which one of the most important, because it acted at local level, was that of the archdeacon. In the later Middle Ages and certainly by 1435, the priors of Durham were archdeacons in all the churches appropriated to the monastery. The priors had established their rights in Durham County by the early fourteenth century and in Northumberland slightly later. Although the origins of this peculiar jurisdiction were long ago unravelled by Barlow, there is no full account of how it worked in practice. Yet it is not difficult from the Durham archives to elicit a coherent account, with examples, of the way penance and ecclesiastical justice were administered from day to day in the Durham area in this period. The picture that emerges from these documents, though not in itself unusual, is nevertheless valuable and affords an extraordinary degree of detail which is missing from other places, where the evidence no longer exists. This study should complement the recent work by Larry Poos for Lincoln and Wisbech, drawing attention to an institution which would reward further research. It is only possible here to outline what the court did and how and why it was used.


Traditio ◽  
2013 ◽  
Vol 68 ◽  
pp. 259-276
Author(s):  
D. Dudley Stutz

In 1232 Pope Gregory IX (r. 1227–41) imposed a tenth of episcopal revenues on prelates of Occitania to subsidize the church of Valence, which owed 10,000 poundstournoisto various bankers of Vienne, Rome, Lyons, and Siena. In 1865 B. Hauréau first noted the event when he edited one of the main documents in theGallia christianavolume concerning the ecclesiastical province of Vienne. With the publication of Gregory IX's register from 1890–1908 most of the facts of the tax were more widely available. In 1910 Ulysse Chevalier briefly mentioned the tax in his monograph on the long tenure of John of Bernin, archbishop of Vienne (r. 1218–66). In 1913, Heinrich Zimmermann cited Hauréau's text in a note in his detailed treatment of early thirteenth-century papal legations. Recently Alain Marchandisse reviewed eight of the eleven papal letters pertaining to the tax in his study of William of Savoy (d. 1239) as bishop-elect of Liège. These scholars provided no reason for the debt or why the papacy would take such measures to ensure payment. Perhaps they did not study this tax further because a church indebted to moneylenders is not in itself surprising. It appears that the church of Valence acquired the debt, very large compared to the church's income, when bishop-elect William of Savoy (r. 1225–39) waged war against Adhémar II of Poitiers-Valentinois, count of the Valentinois (r. 1189–1239). Struggles between bishops and the local nobility occurred on a regular basis throughout the Middle Ages, so what in this unimportant Rhone-valley diocese interested the pope enough to impose taxes on prelates of Occitania over twenty years to ensure payment of this debt? Adhémar II faithfully supported Raymond VI (r. 1194–1222) and Raymond VII (r. 1222–49) of Saint-Gilles, counts of Toulouse, throughout their struggle with the papacy during and following the Albigensian crusades. Adhémar II was also their vassal for the Diois, which borders the Valentinois on the southeast and comprised the northern portion of the marquisate of Provence. These lands had been reserved for the church in the Treaty of Meaux-Paris (1229), which ended the Albigensian crusades. Thus William of Savoy as bishop-elect of Valence defended the papacy's claims on the marquisate of Provence, which the papacy deemed part of the larger struggle between the Roman church and the counts of Toulouse. The facts on the nature of the debts and the steps the papacy took to aid the diocese show that the local struggle between the bishop of Valence and the count of the Valentinois embodied a part of the larger struggle between the papacy and the counts of Toulouse over the marquisate of Provence, which began as early as 1215.


1984 ◽  
Vol 13 ◽  
pp. 65-96 ◽  
Author(s):  
Mildred Budny ◽  
Dominic Tweddle

Among the relics in the treasury of the church of St Catherine at Maaseik in Limburg, Belgium, there are some luxurious embroideries which form part of the so-called casula (probably ‘chasuble’) of Sts Harlindis and Relindis (pls. I–VI). It was preserved throughout the Middle Ages at the abbey church of Aldeneik (which these sister-saints founded in the early eighth century) and was moved to nearby Maaseik in 1571. Although traditionally regarded as the handiwork of Harlindis and Relindis themselves, the embroideries cannot date from as early as their time, and they must have been made in Anglo-Saxon England. Indeed, they represent the earliest surviving examples of the highly prized English art of embroidery which became famous later in the Middle Ages as opus anglicanum.


2000 ◽  
Vol 28 (1) ◽  
pp. 93-128 ◽  
Author(s):  
David M. Crowe

The Roma entered the Balkans from India during the Middle Ages. They reached Persia sometime in the ninth century and by the eleventh century had moved into the Byzantine Empire. According to the eleventh-century Georgian Life of Saint George the Athonite, the Emperor Constantine Monomachus asked the Adsincani to get rid of wild animals preying on the animals in his royal hunting preserve. Adsincani is the Georgian form of the Greek word Atsínganoi or Atzínganoi, from which the non-English terms for Roma (cigán, cigány, tsiganes, zigeuner) are derived. Adsincani means “ner-do-well fortune tellers” or “ventriloquists and wizards who are inspired satanically and pretend to predict the unknown.” “Gypsy” comes from “Egyptian,” a term often used by early modern chroniclers in the Balkans to refer to the Roma. Because of the stereotypes and prejudice that surround the word “Gypsy,” the Roma prefer a name of their own choosing from their language, Romani. Today, it is preferable to refer to the Gypsies as Rom or “Roma,” a Romani word meaning “man” or “husband.” Byzantine references to “Egyptians” crop up during this period as Byzantine political and territorial fortunes gave way to the region's new power, the Ottomans. There were areas with large Roma populations in Cyprus and Greece which local rulers dubbed “Little Egypt” in the late fourteenth century.


1912 ◽  
Vol 6 ◽  
pp. 89-128
Author(s):  
H. G. Richardson

Until the thirteenth century records touching the parish clergy are scanty, but thereafter they increase in bulk and, with the fourteenth century, there exist, side by side, a number of literary works which afford more than a passing glance at their lives and deeds. The parish priests and clerks of these centuries were not perhaps typical of the mediaeval period, since no century or centuries will afford a type of any class or institution which will be true for the whole of the Middle Ages; and it is possible that the tenthcentury parish and its people resembled the parish and people of the fourteenth century as little—or as much—as the Elizabethan parish resembled the parish of the present day. The changes that affected so profoundly the organisation of the manor during the course of the Middle Ages did not leave its counterpart, the parish, unaltered; and the same economic forces that helped to make the villein a copyholder and serfdom an anachronism, helped also to raise the chaplain's wages from five to eight marks within thirty years of the Black Death. But although the


1997 ◽  
Vol 21 (1) ◽  
pp. 111-137
Author(s):  
Lutz Kaelber

How did a person become a heretic in the Middle Ages? Then, once the person was affiliated with a heretical group, how was the affiliation sustained? What social processes and mechanisms were involved that forged bonds among heretics strong enough, in some cases, for them to choose death rather than return to the bosom of the Church? Two competing accounts of what attracted people to medieval heresies have marked the extremes in historical explanations (Russell 1963): one is a materialist account elucidated by Marxist historians; the other one focuses on ideal factors, as proposed by the eminent historian Herbert Grundmann.


Traditio ◽  
1964 ◽  
Vol 20 ◽  
pp. 115-178 ◽  
Author(s):  
Stephan Kuttner ◽  
Antonio García Y García

Two years ago we briefly announced the discovery of a new document of great interest for the history of the Fourth Lateran Council. Written in Spring 1216 as a letter from Rome, presumably by a German, it was copied by a thirteenth-century scribe into a manuscript now at the Universitäts-bibliothek of Giessen, where it follows directly after the constitutiones of the council. With its detailed and vivid description of the three plenary sessions and of many events that took place in between, the anonymous report adds considerably to the information we possess from other sources. But although other portions of the Giessen codex have been known and used by many scholars ever since the eighteenth century, this text has been overlooked to the present day. It is a happy coincidence that we are able to present this eyewitness account of the greatest of the ecumenical councils of the Middle Ages while the Second Vatican Council is in session.


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