Fathers and Godfathers: Spiritual kinship in early-modern Italy (Catholic Christendom, 1300-1700)

Fathers and Godfathers Spiritual Kinship in Early-Modern Italy

Guido Alfani

Fathers and Godfathers

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Fathers and Godfathers Spiritual Kinship in Early-Modern Italy

Guido Alfani Bocconi University, Italy

© Guido Alfani 2009 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher. Guido Alfani name has asserted his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work. This volume has been translated from Italian by Christine Calvert. Original title: Padri, padrini, patroni. La parentela spirituale nella storia, Marsilio, Venice 2007 Published by Ashgate Publishing Limited Ashgate Publishing Company Wey Court East Suite 420 Union Road 101 Cherry Street Farnham Burlington Surrey, GU9 7PT VT 05401-4405 England USA www.ashgate.com British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Alfani, Guido, 1976– Fathers and Godfathers: Spiritual Kinship in Early-Modern Italy. – (Catholic Christendom, 1300–1700) 1. Catholic Church – Doctrines – History. 2. Kinship – Religious aspects – Catholic Church – History. 3. Baptism – Catholic Church – History of doctrines. 4. Sponsors – Italy – History. 5. Italy – Church history – 15th century. 6. Italy – Church history – 16th century. 7. Italy – Church history – 17th century. I. Title II. Series 234.1’61’0945’0903–dc22 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Alfani, Guido, 1976 Fathers and Godfathers: Spiritual Kinship in Early-Modern Italy / Guido Alfani. p. cm. – (Catholic Christendom, 1300–1700) Includes bibliographical references. 1. Sponsors – Italy – History. 2. Kinship – Religious aspects – Christianity. 3. Kinship – Italy – History. 4. Italy – Social conditions. I. Title. BV1478.A44 2009 306.83–dc22 2008055067 ISBN 978-0-7546-6737-7 (hbk)

ISBN 978-0-7546-9899-9 (ebk.V)

Contents Series Editor’s Preface   Acknowledgements   List of Tables   List of Figures   Introduction   1 2 3 4 5 6

vii ix xi xiii 1

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship: the Origins of a Distinctive Social Institution  

13

Godparents and Compari between the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries: a Wide Variety of Local Customs  

27

Godparenthood, Literature and Family Records; from Perception to Interpretation  

53

Godparenthood in the Sixteenth Century: from the Reformation to the Council of Trent  

67

The Application of the Decrees of the Council; Resistance and Compromise: Three Lines of Enquiry  

91

The Social Impact of the Reform  

115

7 Newborn Babies and Spiritual Kinship: Equal Opportunities or Discrimination?  

133

8

Godfathers and Godmothers: The Case of Ivrea  

155

9

Godparenthood as an Instrument of Social Alliance  

193

10

Godparenthood from the Seventeenth Century to the Present Day: A History of Decline?  

209

Appendix   Bibliography   Index  

233 245 263

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Series Editor’s Preface The still-usual emphasis on medieval (or Catholic) and reformation (or Protestant) religious history has meant neglect of the middle ground, both chronological and ideological. As a result, continuities between the middle ages and early modern Europe have been overlooked in favor of emphasis on radical discontinuities. Further, especially in the later period, the identification of ‘reformation’ with various kinds of Protestantism means that the vitality and creativity of the established church, whether in its Roman or local manifestations, has been left out of account. In the last few years, an upsurge of interest in the history of traditional (or catholic) religion makes these inadequacies in received scholarship even more glaring and in need of systematic correction. The series will attempt this by covering all varieties of religious behavior, broadly interpreted, not just (or even especially) traditional institutional and doctrinal church history. It will to the maximum degree possible be interdisciplinary, comparative and global, as well as non-confessional. The goal is to understand religion, primarily of the ‘Catholic’ variety, as a broadly human phenomenon, rather than as a privileged mode of access to superhuman realms, even implicitly. The period covered, 1300–1700, embraces the moment which saw an almost complete transformation of the place of religion in the life of Europeans, whether considered as a system of beliefs, as an institution, or as a set of social and cultural practices. In 1300, vast numbers of Europeans, from the pope down, fully expected Jesus’s return and the beginning of His reign on earth. By 1700, very few Europeans, of whatever level of education, would have subscribed to such chiliastic beliefs. Pierre Bayle’s notorious sarcasms about signs and portents are not idiosyncratic. Likewise, in 1300 the vast majority of Europeans probably regarded the pope as their spiritual head; the institution he headed was probably the most tightly integrated and effective bureaucracy in Europe. Most Europeans were at least nominally Christian, and the pope had at least nominal knowledge of that fact. The papacy, as an institution, played a central role in high politics, and the clergy in general formed an integral part of most governments, whether central or local. By 1700, Europe was divided into a myriad of different religious allegiances, and even those areas officially subordinate to the pope were both more nominally Catholic in belief (despite colossal efforts at imposing uniformity) and also in allegiance than they had been four hundred years earlier. The pope had become only one political factor, and not one of the first rank. The clergy, for its part,

viii

SERIES EDITOR’S PREFACE

had virtually disappeared from secular governments as well as losing much of its local authority. The stage was set for the Enlightenment. Thomas F. Mayer, Augustana College

Acknowledgements This book, fruit of almost ten years’ labour, originated from my PhD thesis, supplemented by further research. I wish, therefore, firstly to thank my PhD tutors: Marco Cattini, Lorenzo Del Panta, Raul Merzario and Giovanni Vigo. My thoughts turn especially to Raul, whose premature death regrettably prevented me from presenting him with a copy of the book. I also wish to thank all those who patiently discussed with me various parts of this work: Maurice Aymard, Massimo Amato, Simona Cerutti, Gérard Delille, Joseph Goy, Maurizio Gribaudi, Anita Guerreau-Jalabert, Guido Guerzoni, Christiane Klapisch, Gérard Labrot, Paola Lanaro, Giovanni Levi, Omar Mazzotti, Fabrizio Pagani, Adriano Prosperi, Nicole Reinhardt, Massimo Riva, Mario Rosa, Angelo Torre, Marcello Verga. I am particularly grateful to Cristina Munno and Vincent Gourdon for reading and commenting on the first draft. Without their expertise and their interest in godparenthood, this book would not have been the same. Likewise, I wish to thank the anonymous referees who gave to the first Italian edition of this book their approval for their gratifying opinions and for their invaluable suggestions. I also wish to thank all the staff of the Diocesan and the City Archive of Ivrea, the State Archive of Turin, the Diocesan Archive of Vicenza, the Diocesan Archive of Cesena, as well as the parish priests and those responsible for the archives of S. Ulderico of Ivrea, S. Agostino of Turin, S. Maria Maggiore of Mirandola, S. Lorenzo of Voghera, S.S. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso of Bellano, of the Cathedral of Ravenna, the Abbey of Nonantola and the Abbey of Finalpia, without whose collaboration my research would not have been possible. I would like to thank the Institute for Economic History of Bocconi University for the support they have always given me. This book would perhaps never have seen the light of day without the help and attention of two recent Directors, Franco Amatori and Marzio A. Romani. Franco Amatori shouldered the responsibility of closely following the complex path of the publication of the first Italian edition: I am extremely grateful. The book was finally completed in 2006 during a period of study spent at Glasgow University. I would like to thank that University and all the friends at the History Department and at the Institute for Medieval History for having provided an ideal working environment. My thanks also go to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, which awarded me the Research Fellowship that made my stay in Scotland possible. Special thanks go to



Fathers and Godfathers

Sam Cohn with whom I share an interest in an entirely different subject, plague. For the English edition of the book my thanks go to my translator, Christine Calvert, who during many months of work tolerated my ‘hairsplitting’ and my fondness for the quirks of the Italian language. Thanks go to her also for the working lunches at Pramollo, which I will remember as an English enclave in the Val Chisone. I am also grateful to Thomas Mayer for including this book in the Catholic Christendom, 1300–1700 series. Tom Gray, Kirsten Weissenberg and Kevin Doherty at Ashgate deserve thanks for their kindness and competence, as well as for all the attention they have given to this project. Finally my special thanks go to Elisa, not only for having been my first and harshest critic, but for all the love, affection and support that she gives me daily. I can never adequately repay her. Nor must I forget my parents and all the friends who in these years have supported me. This book is dedicated to my grandmother, Emma.

List of Tables 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4

Average number of godfathers in northern Italy (up to 1562) Average number of godmothers in northern Italy (up to 1562) Typology of godparenthood models Models of godparenthood by community and region

4.1 Opinions against a sole godparent 6.1

A comparison of the ranks of fathers and godfathers

7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5 7.6 7.7

Average number of godfathers and godmothers for baptized males and females before the Council of Trent Ranks of godparents for baptized males and females before the Council of Trent Average number of godfathers and godmothers for firstborn males and females before the Council of Trent. Ranks of godfathers for firstborn males and females (up until 1562) Ranks of godfathers for firstborn males and females after 1587 Ranks of fathers and number of godfathers and godmothers per baptism Ranks of fathers compared with ranks of godfathers

8.1 Occasional godfathers and habitual godfathers in Ivrea 8.2 Occasional godfathers and habitual godfathers in Azeglio 8.3 Social position of the habitual godfathers of Ivrea 8.4 Social position of the habitual godfathers of Azeglio 8.5 Duration and frequency of the careers of godfatherhood in Ivrea 8.6 Duration and frequency of the careers of godfatherhood in Azeglio. 8.7 Duration and frequency of the careers of godmotherhood in Ivrea 8.8 Repeated godfatherhoods in Ivrea 8.9 Godfatherhood and ‘systems of reciprocity’ in Ivrea

31 32 42 47 84 122 136 138 141 142 145 149 150 160 162 165 165 170 170 175 182 182

xii 9.1

Fathers and Godfathers

Composition of the extended groups of spiritual kin in Ivrea (1480–1487 and 1542–1549) 201

List of Figures 2.1

The distribution of models of godparenthood prior to the Council of Trent

44

5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6

Ivrea (parish of S. Ulderico) Gambellara (parish of S. Pietro Apostolo) Turin (parish of S. Agostino) Voghera (parish of S. Lorenzo) Bellano (parish of SS. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso) Mirandola (parish of S. Maria Maggiore)

94 95 96 97 98 99

6.1 6.2 6.3

Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the untitled (Voghera, 1534–1604) Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the seigneurs (Voghera, 1534–1604) Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the untitled (Bellano, 1533–1609)

8.1

The godfatherhoods and godmotherhoods of the Albertis

179

9.1

Strategies and environment: a diagram of interactions

207

128 128 129

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Introduction What is a godfather? This term, while no longer in common currency, is well known to us. We use it to indicate very different figures, which we do not know how to define otherwise: godfather in baptism, godfather in confirmation, the mafia godfather, the godfather in a duel. And godmother? Undoubtedly the meanings of ‘godmother’ and ‘godfather’ overlap, especially when they relate to baptism and confirmation. However, other meanings apply solely to the woman, or they seem to be more appropriate for her: for example, ‘godmother of a ship’ or ‘godmother of an orphanage’ or some other charitable institution – even a fairy godmother. In Italy, godfathers and godmothers are sometimes referred to as ‘compare’ and ‘comare’, with an infinite variety of expressions in dialect. These terms, more common in some areas than in others, evoke different kinds of relationships: friendship, deference, neighbourliness – meanings that are not all easily reconcilable. All the different meanings of godfather and godmother are in some way modelled on godfatherhood and godmotherhood in baptism. These have strong symbolic power that today, while still present, has partly faded. It is this symbolic power that has allowed the same word to be used for other types of relationships. For example, the godmother of a ship is the person who ‘christens’ it and gives it its name. The semantic primacy applied to godparenthood in baptism is also a historical primacy: the godfather in baptism, in fact, is the first to appear in our culture. Going back to our opening question, we must make it clear that here we are only interested in godparenthood in baptism, and if need be, in those factors that foster a semantic deviation in the use of the term. The Catholic    The ‘compare’ is the godfather viewed in relation to the father of the baptised child, and vice versa. The word is used reciprocally (father and godfather of the child call each other compare), and has a feminine equivalent: ‘comare’. To indicate the social institution corresponding to the relationship between compari, the word ‘comparatico’ is used. All these words come from the Latin and have close equivalents in Romance languages: comparatico, for example, translates to ‘compérage’ in French and ‘compadrazgo’ in Spanish. Unfortunately, while the word ‘godparenthood’ can be used as a general term for all ties of spiritual kinship, the more specific words compare, comare and comparatico have no equivalent in modern English; we have thus left them untranslated. In ancient times a close English equivalent of compare existed: ‘godsib’, which meant more or less ‘spiritual brother/sister’. The word is the etymological antecedent of the modern word ‘gossip’, but has long disappeared from the English language. See Coster 2002, 93–97.

Fathers and Godfathers



Church, following current regulations, holds that for each newborn child baptized (except in the case of ceremonies conducted in an emergency), at least one godfather or one godmother must be present; at the most two (one of each sex) are permitted, unless a special licence is obtained, but this is very unusual. The fact that in Italy, and in other Catholic areas of Europe, there is almost always a godfather and a godmother, instead of one or the other, is by itself an interesting historical development, which is neither required by law nor justified theologically. This topic, which is more complex and fascinating than might at first appear, is the subject of this book. The role still ‘officially’ attributed to godparents is primarily to watch over the correct Christian upbringing of their godchild, and secondarily to be a witness to the baptism itself. It goes without saying that few godparents are fully aware of their duties, and even fewer make an effort to fulfil them; today, as in the past, godfathers and godmothers seem to take other aspects more seriously, ones not expressly envisaged by the Church, e.g. making gifts at baptism, perhaps also during their godchild’s infancy and on special occasions such as marriage or other ‘rites of passage’. Generally speaking, they somehow feel a tie with their godchildren, so much so that in exceptional circumstances, such as the premature death of the parents, they might provide parental care or intervene in support of the godchildren in a variety of ways. I will illustrate with examples from history in the course of this book. And compari? Today this term is somewhat problematic, as in most of Italy (in the north rather than the south), it is outdated, like another term, comparatico, which describes the type of relationship that exists between two compari. As well as being outdated, the term is sometimes used inappropriately; or rather, there are local customs in which people call each other compare, even when according to the original meaning 

  The 1983 Code of Canon Law, which is currently in force, states: ‘whenever possible, the baptised should be given a godparent…’ (Can. 872) and ‘only one godfather or only one godmother, or a godfather and a godmother are allowed’ (Can. 873). Codice di Diritto Canonico, Rome, Libreria editrice Vaticana (1983), p. 559.    ‘Secondarily’ only insofar as it does not require any particular commitment on the part of godparents: in fact, both spiritual tutorship and being a witness are essential functions of godparents and, as such, cannot be put on a subordinate pastoral or juridical plane. I will return to the role attributed by the Church to godfathers, but see also Rubellin 1997, Torquebiau 1937, Van Molle 1964.    The concept of ‘rites of passage’ applied both to baptism and to marriage was introduced by Van Gennep 1909, 1943.    For an analysis of contemporary forms of comparatico and for the way this term and others connected to it are used, see the monographic number of the review L’Uomo edited by Italo Signorini: ‘Forme di comparatico italiano’ (1947).

Introduction



they are not in such a relationship. The word is derived from the Latin copater, the father of the baptized being compare to the godfather and vice versa: comparatico is, in fact, a symmetrical relationship. If it relates to a woman (the godmother or mother of the child), the corresponding comare (comater) is used. Between the compari there is a tie of proximity and solidarity, whose exact significance (concrete and symbolic) varies in time and place. Both in the relationships between godparents and godchildren and in those between compari, a tie can be perceived. The awareness of proximity is typical of the relationships created by godparenthood right from their appearance in the first centuries of the Christian era when godfathers were first introduced. Western culture has gradually lost its awareness of the fact that godparenthood and comparatico implied a form of kinship, a ‘spiritual kinship’ (cognatio spiritualis), the dimension of which changed in the course of time, first experiencing a phase of expansion from its beginnings up to the Council of Trent (1545–1563), and then a contraction. It was the Second Vatican Council in the twentieth century that cancelled the last traces, but this is recent history. It is significant that long before finally disappearing, spiritual kinship had almost completely been forgotten. A new question arises then: what exactly is a ‘spiritual’ kinship? In most Christian traditions baptism is a rite by which the baptized are cleansed of their original sin, with which they are stained from birth. With this sacrament, divine grace descends on the baptized and allows rebirth to a spiritual life, and at the same time opens the path to eternal salvation. Natural birth, then, is contrasted with spiritual birth; the flesh is contrasted with the spirit. Godparents, who began to attend baptismal ceremonies from the fifth and sixth centuries, represented the Church in the sense of the gathered community of Christians who present an incomplete and imperfect being at the rite, and through grace receive in exchange a new member of the community. This new member is then given a name and at the same time finds a place within the kinship group and within society as a whole. Baptism, in fact, realizes not only the spiritual birth of the new Christian but also his social birth. In the light of this spiritual birth, in the course of time the existence of spiritual kinship gradually came to be recognized, with its related marriage bans, between those who had taken part in the rite of baptism (including the parents of the baptized), and later including their families. Medieval theological tradition actually developed the concept of a real ‘spiritual family’ similar but superior to the ‘natural family’, as the spirit is always superior to the flesh (Guerreau-Jalabert 1995, 2004). I will later analyse in detail the long process that led to the development of a system of spiritual kinship so extended that towards the mid-sixteenth century restrictions upon it became necessary.



Fathers and Godfathers

Baptism, therefore, in generating kinship relationships, automatically also formed a network of relations similar to, but not exactly overlapping, the network based on natural kinship. However, it is not only a matter of recognizing that baptism sanctioned full entry into the community (i.e. into the network of all Christians) but, above all, of seeing the spiritual family in a more limited context, as a particular spiritual family comprising the baptized, their parents, godmothers and godfathers. The role played by relationships of natural kinship and of affinity, that is, the kinship created by marriage between members of different family groups, in the social and economic life of a community, has been at the centre of historical investigation but has also been studied by sociologists, anthropologists and also, more cautiously, by economists. We know far less, though, of the role played by godparenthood and by comparatico, certainly relationships not as close as those mentioned above, yet not devoid of a certain effectiveness. Sociological research has shown that, to reach certain goals, exploring ‘weak’ ties can prove to be more effective than resorting to ‘strong’ ones (Granovetter 1974). Fortunately, we can be in no doubt about the relevance of godparenthood and comparatico relationships, as there is no lack of historical sources evidencing their importance. It is necessary, however, to point out that the current availability of data limits our ability to explore the past: typical of almost all forms of unstructured, barely perceptible relationships is that they leave traces only in exceptional circumstances. From this standpoint, scholars from other disciplines are luckier, as they can still pose questions directly related to their objects of study. It is not by chance that scientific interest in godparenthood, and particularly in comparatico, first developed among anthropologists. Their interest originated from the surprise, first of travellers, and then of scholars coming from non-Catholic countries, especially North America and England, when they came into contact with the lively godparenthood practices that are still to be found today in Central and Southern America. From the 1930s at least, it became customary for anthropologists working in Latin America to make some mention in their publications of the system of compadrazgo in the societies they studied. Compadrazgo is the Spanish equivalent of comparatico, and relationships between compari were far more interesting than those between godfathers and godchildren, as they involved inescapable obligations of honest dealing, respect and reciprocal help, and they seemed to be part of all kinds of activities.    Edward B. Tylor, one of the first ethnologists to describe the system of compadrazgo (his journey to Mexico was as long ago as 1856) writes: ‘I mentioned the word ‘compadrazgo’ a little way back. The thing itself is curious, and quite novel to an Englishman of the present day. The godfathers and godmothers of a child become, by their participation in the ceremony,

Introduction



In the years following the Second World War, research into godparenthood diversified and the field of research was extended to areas other than contemporary Latin America. A small number of scholars looked back, trying to make a brief reconstruction of the history of godparenthood in past centuries. Others studied different areas, in the first place Spain, where they searched for customs similar to those found among the populations in Latin America, and secondly, the Balkans and Greece, where forms of godparenthood still very much alive were investigated. The interest shown by historians in godparenthood certainly derived from the enthusiasm of anthropologists for compadrazgo, as seen by their attempts to discover its European antecedents. This influence could clearly be seen from the 1970s, 50 years from the beginning of the anthropological tradition. In this initial phase, however, historians were very much influenced by the approach anthropologists applied to their pioneering research, accepting a ‘vulgate’ or received view of the history of godparenthood from its origins to the Contemporary Era, which had been formulated by non-specialist scholars. An article of 1950 by Sidney W. Mintz and Eric R. Wolf was the key text in the construction of this received view. This article focused on a comparison of five studies dealing with godparenthood practices in Latin America, but the authors began their work with a nine-page reconstruction of the historical antecedents of what they defined as ‘ritual co-parenthood’, thus outlining what, in the following decades, would become ‘the’ history of godparenthood from its origins to contemporary society. Mintz and Wolf’s work helped to fill a serious gap, as anthropologists interested at that time in models of Latin American godparenthood had at their disposal extremely fragmentary historical references. Mintz and Wolf’s survey, however, clearly needed confirmation and further investigation, as it was based on a limited number of sources, which were sometimes of doubtful quality. The article contained a number of inaccuracies that

relations to one another and to the priest who baptises the child, and call one another ever afterwards compadre and comadre … In Mexico this connexion obliges the compadres and comadres to hospitality and honesty and all sorts of good offices towards one another; and it is wonderful how conscientiously this obligation is kept even by people who have no conscience at all for the rest of the world. A man who will cheat his own father or his own son will keep faith with his compadre. To such an extent does this influence become mixed up with all sorts of affairs, and so important it is, that it is necessary to count it among the things that tend to alter the course of justice in the country’ (Tylor 1861, p. 250, quoted in Lynch 1986, p. 58). 

  For a by no means complete bibliography for Latin America, see Christinat 1989, Nutini and Bell 1980–1984, Signorini 1981; for Spain, Pitt-Rivers 1976a; for the Balkans and Greece, Hammel 1968, Pitt-Rivers 1976b, Vellioti 1987.

Fathers and Godfathers



contributed to building up a body of erroneous beliefs that took a long time to lose acceptance. Some of the hypotheses put forward by Mintz and Wolf played a particularly important part in conditioning future historical research. First of all, querying the social function of godparenthood in a medieval period with vague historical boundaries, they concluded that it was very similar to the practice in Latin American societies. Secondly, they maintained, without producing any evidence, that after the Middle Ages, almost throughout the whole of Europe, comparatico gradually lost its social importance at the same time as feudal society disappeared. Mintz and Wolf’s synthesis perhaps proved to serve its purpose too well. It is a fact that for a long time anthropologists saw no need whatsoever to examine any further the history of godparenthood, except to criticize Mintz and Wolf on specific questions; this is the case with George M. Foster’s attempt to identify the Spanish antecedents of compadrazgo. As well as providing a historical reference that can still clearly be seen in many works on godparenthood, Mintz and Wolf’s article was in turn the instrument that guaranteed the lasting influence of Jules Corblet and Benjamin D. Paul. In 1881 Abbot Corblet published Histoire du Sacrement de Baptême, which has been used as a source of data and information up to the present day. However, because of its limited availability, few seem to have been able to consult it directly; Corblet’s data have been handed down through a chain of quotations with the result that, at each step, something seems to have been lost. I will come back to this aspect in due course.10 

  Mintz and Wolf (1950, pp. 351–352) claimed that the causes were ‘… the development of industrial capitalism, the rise of a strong middle class, and the disappearance of feudal and neo-feudal tenures. Within these areas compadrazgo has lost its function most completely within the classes in which the family no longer forms the primary unit of production’.    Foster was the first to begin an anthropological line of research that, shifting the field of investigation from Latin America to Spain, looked in this area for analogies with the compadrazgo practices that for decades had aroused curiosity in scholars. The basic assumption was that at the time of the conquest, a ‘Spanish’ model of godparenthood was transplanted in America. In an article in 1953 (‘Cofradía and Compadrazgo in Spain and Spanish America’) Foster linked the institution of comparatico to the confraternities, claiming that both fulfilled a specific function: to create cohesion and social integration, creating a network of relationships which in a situation of crisis could come into play and make it easier to face difficulties. According to Foster, in Spanish society in the Late Middle Ages the two institutions existed side by side, and were both equally recognized. Later in Spain it was the confraternities that gained in importance, while in Latin America it was the compadrazgo, which prevailed on account of its similarity to practices typical of pre-Columbian religions. 10   For example, Corblet is the origin of a blind faith in the presumed predominance in Europe until the Council of Trent of the ‘French’ model of godparenthood, according to which two godfathers and one godmother were given to boys, and vice versa to girls.

Introduction



With regard to Paul, Mintz and Wolf consulted his unpublished 1942 doctoral thesis. Paul outlined a conceptual framework that was the basis for further godparenthood studies for some decades; he both provided an interpretation of godparenthood as one of the main forms of ‘ritual’ kinship, quite distinct from ‘blood’ kinship and kinship due to ‘affinity’ derived from a matrimonial tie,11 and was the first to pose some key questions. In particular, he observed that in Latin America, depending on the locality, godparenthood was used either to enter into a relationship with people with whom there had been no previous ties, or to strengthen an already existing relationship. Paul established an analytical category to be found at the centre of many later studies, summed up in the dichotomy ‘extension/intensification’ of natural kinship. In a clear and surprising way, the work of Mintz and Wolf, and indirectly that of Corblet and Paul, influenced and continue to influence anthropological research on godparenthood. Even more surprising, however, is the lasting influence they were able to exercise on historical studies. I have already mentioned that well into the 1970s studies on godparenthood were conducted amid general lack of interest on the part of historians. When they finally began to be aware that it was an interesting field of study, and, moreover, one that was practically unexplored from a historical standpoint, they were guided by suggestions that clearly came from research carried out by anthropologists. Not infrequently two disciplines exchange research aims and objectives, especially if, like history and anthropology, they share a close relationship, albeit not without differences of opinions (Viazzo 2000). What was unusual in the way these historians dealt with questions posed by godparenthood was the fact that together with subjects of research from the anthropological field they also imported a general historical frame of reference in which to incorporate their own specific investigations, and a global interpretation of the phenomena observed. Arriving late on the scene, historians essentially renounced their own specific remit and went back, albeit with some further modifications, to Mintz and Wolf’s interpretation. Actually, there is no lack of excellent studies produced by historians on specific aspects of godparenthood and its history, e.g. research carried out by Christiane Klapisch-Zuber and Louis Haas on late medieval Tuscany.12 11

  For Paul ritual kinship included ‘... all those instances of artificial relationship growing out of a ritual compact and obligating the contracting parties to behave as kinsmen to each other and to the members of each other’s families’. The quotation is taken from Lynch 1986, pp. 60–61. 12   Christiane Klapisch-Zuber has studied godparenthood from a broad standpoint, analysing in a long series of articles comparatico (also as a form of social patronage), the



Fathers and Godfathers

However, it should be pointed out that until now no synthesis has been able to modify theories that, in the light of data available today, can no longer be accepted. Concentrating on the Early Medieval Period, Joseph H. Lynch’s attempt in 1986 proved insufficient, as the author failed to deal with crucial issues concerning later periods. If it were merely a question of a fresh synthesis to take account of recent findings, the task would not appear so daunting, nor, perhaps, so necessary. However, there exists a set of accepted beliefs on godparenthood, well established but unfortunately based on little data and on a small group of outdated secondary sources. Consequently, it is necessary to distance ourselves, using empirical evidence to demonstrate just how groundless are certain beliefs in the received wisdom. This state of affairs has gone on for so long because historians’ interest has been focused on two extremes: the Middle Ages13 and the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.14 This is partly on account of factors not strictly connected to godparenthood studies, such as the general lessening of interest among historians in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. However, if, as Mintz and Wolf claim, godparenthood as an institution was already in a critical state in the Late Middle Ages, there was no particular need to carry out studies aimed at the first centuries of the Modern Age. The fact that historical studies on godparenthood increased with the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries can be explained by the availability of better documentary material and the fact that scholars from specialist areas within disciplines such as historical anthropology and historical demography have shown an interest in this period. In my opinion, the Early Modern Age, and in particular the sixteenth century, was a period of crucial importance in the history of godparenthood relationship between godparents and godchildren, the specific role of godmothers and so on (Klapisch-Zuber 1976, 1980, 1985, 1992; the author included many of her essays in the volume, La maison et le nom. Stratégies et rituels dans l’Italie de la Renaissance, 1990). In her article, ‘Parrains et filleuls: Une approche comparée de la France, l’Angleterre et l’Italie médiévales’ (1985b), she made the first important attempt to compare the different practices in Europe, although it was limited to the very specific aspect of the link between godparenthood and the giving of a name to the child, and done on the basis of the limited amount of data available at that period. With regard to Louis Haas, see Haas 1989, 1995–1996, 1998. 13   As well as the work of Lynch, Klapisch-Zuber and Haas, already mentioned, see Guerreau-Jalabert 1995; Jussen 1991, 1992; Cramer 1993. 14   The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries have attracted one of the lines of research that are producing the most interesting results in the study of godparenthood, namely historical anthropology. I refer especially to the work of David W. Sabean (1990, 1998). Another line of research links an interest in godparenthood with tools and methodologies borrowed from historical demography. See, for example, Cristina Munno 2005 and research still being carried out by Vincent Gourdon (2005). For Italy, see Bigi, Ronchi and Zambruno 1981.

Introduction



on account of the transformations brought about by the Council of Trent,15 for at least three reasons: first, because on the eve of the Council, godparenthood was not yet in a state of crisis, as Mintz and Wolf maintained; second, because as a social institution the characteristics of godparenthood do not correspond to the interpretation of many anthropologists; finally, because during the sixteenth century godparenthood went through a phase of rapid change, which has never been analysed, and it is not clear which paths it followed in later centuries. These assertions will be discussed in this work with the support of a large amount of data, the result of several years of research obtained from a heterogeneous set of sources, most of them unpublished. The fact that I became interested by chance in godparenthood is indicative of the state of current knowledge of these topics. It was the discovery of a phenomenon that seemed difficult to explain, following the chance discovery of a rare fifteenth-century baptismal register in the parish of S. Ulderico in Ivrea that triggered my curiosity. My degree dissertation and my doctoral thesis originated from this interest, followed by articles and papers given at conferences, and now this book, based on my doctoral thesis, ‘Nascite naturali e rinascite spirituali’(‘Natural births and spiritual rebirths’), supplemented by further research and reflection. What exactly was this discovery? Examining the baptismal registers of S. Ulderico with the intention of collecting demographic data, I realized that in Ivrea it was normal to have numerous godfathers and godmothers. Between the end of the fifteenth and the first half of the sixteenth century, not infrequently three, four or more were given; the most surprising case that I found was the baptism of Maria, daughter of Bernardo Salti of Chiaverano and granddaughter of Pietro Salti, who on 20 March 1502 was baptized in the presence of 17 godfathers and 10 godmothers. It was easy to ascertain that these kinds of godparenthood practices, while rarely documented, were not unknown to historiography. What proved to be a question that had never been investigated were the circumstances surrounding their disappearance. The baptismal registers indicated a reduction over a period in the number of godparents present at each baptism. This happened between the second half of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century, when almost all children received only one godfather and one godmother. This transformation 15

  Among the few works that have shown an interest, although marginally, in Catholic godparenthood in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, see Delille 1988; Reinhardt 2000; Vincent 1988. Church historians, and in particular John Bossy (1979, 1985, 1998a), have paid considerable attention to the Tridentine reform of godparenthood. Some of Bossy’s research has been continued in more depth by Adriano Prosperi (1997). With regard to Protestant areas, interest has recently been shown in godparenthood in the Early Modern Age. See Coster 2002 and Spierling 2005.

10

Fathers and Godfathers

coincided with the new rules on godparenthood issued by the Council of Trent, which limited godparents to two at the most (one godfather and one godmother). Once translated into numbers and transposed onto a graph, the impression of a gradual reduction in the average number of godfathers and godmothers per baptism was confirmed, and at the same time posed an important problem: the way the rule was applied. As the Tridentine canon allowed very limited room for manoeuvre, how was it possible that it was applied in such a gradual fashion? It was immediately clear that some form of negotiation must have taken place, but outside the limits imposed by the canon. This fact alone was interesting and worth further research, as well as suggesting that the inhabitants of Ivrea were much attached to their outlawed customs. Moreover, baptismal registrations made it possible to analyse the way in which godparenthood, and especially comparatico, put members of different social classes in relation with one another. Before the Council of Trent, when godparents were numerous, the baptism of a child was an opportunity to establish ties at every level of the social ladder. However, after the Council a gradual ‘verticalization’ of the relationship took place, which meant that as the permitted number of godparents diminished, there was a tendency to keep only those from a higher rank. The relationship between fathers and godfathers (the compari), which up to a short time before had often been a relationship between equals, increasingly became an asymmetrical relationship between patrons and clients. It was a social transformation never previously recognized and in many ways surprising, because it was imposed from on high on a stubborn population, because it happened in such a short space of time, and because it happened at a time when other forces of social closure were at work. Furthermore, its connection with these forces was unclear. Much of the subject matter of this book can already be seen in the example of Ivrea. However, the task became much more complicated than it had originally seemed when the field of research was widened to cover many communities throughout Italy, when the scanty information available for Europe was gathered and the survey extended to cover a longer period. It emerged that the model of godparenthood in Ivrea was not the only one practised in the whole of Italy, not even in northern Italy, nor even in the immediate surroundings of Ivrea. It was only one of many models, often with very different characteristics, scattered throughout the country and distributed in a way that poses challenges in the field of the geography of customs. Studying these numerous models, I discovered the many ways in which they had adapted to the rules laid down by the Council of Trent, each one able to throw light on new aspects of the meaning given to spiritual kinship relationships. Even though the starting point and the path followed differed from place to place, the direction that path took and the

Introduction

11

point of arrival were the same: the verticalization of the godparenthood relationship found in Ivrea was only one example of a widespread process, never before studied, and whose implications still had to be clarified. These few initial remarks should be enough to explain why the reform desired by the Council of Trent is at the centre of this book. The frame of reference, however, covers a long period, actually extremely long (from the origins of godparenthood to the present day), as only in such a long perspective is it possible to understand the implications that the Council’s decisions had on the two-thousand-year history of this social institution. Recognition of the importance of the Tridentine reform immediately changes our view of the history of godparenthood, making it imperative both to rewrite the crucial stages of its development and to reassess godparenthood and comparatico within the kind of timescale that enables us to look at the historical manifestations of godparenthood without being influenced by descriptions of its more recent forms. If historically the Council of Trent is at the centre of this book, then geographically the central role belongs to northern Italy, where the communities I have personally studied are to be found. However, whenever the data available allow me to do so, I will extend my view to the rest of Italy, Europe and the New World. Within these wider references in time and space, I will analyse the relationship between godparenthood practices and prescriptive rules intended to monitor the institution. Over the long period are to be found both conservative tendencies, primarily the specific tendency of godparenthood practices to evade regulation, and decisive moments of change. I have already said that the Council of Trent is a key moment in the history of godparenthood, not only because the Church completely changed the direction of regulatory processes that had begun centuries earlier (especially concerning the extension of spiritual kinship), but also because the new Tridentine rules were applied with coercive measures previously unknown. The increased strength of rule enforcement as regards godparenthood practices caused tensions, fractures and changes in society which, until now, have never been analysed. The Council of Trent, however, is itself the result of another fundamental turning point in the history of godparenthood: the Protestant Reformation. As well as causing Europe to fragment, from the point of view both of rules and of practices, the Reformation presented an opportunity for an in-depth reflection on the sacrament of baptism and on the concept of spiritual kinship, which the Council somehow had to face, if only to reject it. In this book attention will be paid mostly to the Catholic position, but I will consider the different forms of Protestant godparenthood where appropriate. Similarly I will mention godparenthood in the Orthodox Church, which was very

12

Fathers and Godfathers

similar to the Catholic form until the Council of Trent introduced different elements. Before proceeding further it is necessary to clarify a lexical problem. In Italian there is no term that includes both types of social relationships discussed in this book: godfatherhood (or godmotherhood), i.e. the relationship between godfather (or godmother) and godchild; and comparatico, i.e. the relationship between compari. However, from an analytical point of view, it is useful to be able to indicate both together, without having to make tiresome repetitions. For this reason, in the Italian edition of this book the word padrinato was used with the meaning of both ‘godfatherhood’ and ‘godparenthood’, making it clear in the text when it meant solely the relationship between godparents and godchildren and when it included also the relationship between compari. While such an expedient is not necessary in this English-language edition, a problem arises with translation of the Italian words comparatico and compare (or comare), given that in modern English such words have no equivalent. Thus, when it is necessary to designate this specific relationship between people who came to be tied by spiritual kinship because they were respectively parent and godparent of a baptized child, the Italian words are used.

CHAPTER 1

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship: the Origins of a Distinctive Social Institution In the Introduction I recalled that in European societies in the past, baptism, far from being a simple certification – albeit a solemn and public one of the ‘natural’ birth of a child – was rather a second birth, a ‘spiritual’ one, within a group of relatives who usually differed from the blood relations: a spiritual family, made up of godfathers and godmothers. For the Church, between the members of the spiritual family on the one hand and the child and his parents on the other, a real tie of kinship was created with the relative matrimonial interdictions. However, this description, which closely corresponds to the situation found between the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the Modern Era, cannot be indiscriminately extended to previous centuries; nor, for that matter, to later ones (among Catholics, at least, spiritual kinship no longer exists). In other words, the characteristics of the social institution of godparenthood are historically determined. In fact, godparenthood was not derived from Christ’s preaching. As was pointed out by Luther, neither in the gospels nor in other parts of the Bible are there clear references either to godparents or to spiritual kinship, at least not without stretching the interpretation of texts. It is therefore necessary to date and give a reason for the appearance of godparenthood. In addition, godparenthood and the relationships connected to it (the comparatico above all) show an unusual tendency to modify in time and space, adapting to different circumstances. The most significant and drastic transformation that godparenthood underwent in its long history is certainly among Catholics the one imposed de iure by the Council of Trent, and among Protestants by the Reformation, despite the fact that it went through a series of 

  Luther 1520, ‘Le prélude de Martin Luther sur la captivité babylonienne de l’Église’, in Lutero (1966) Oeuvres, p. 238.    As is well known, the Reformation and the Council of Trent are closely linked historical events, which I will discuss fully in Chapter 4. Here it is sufficient to mention that for the whole of Europe, except the Orthodox countries, the first part of the sixteenth century marked the moment when godparenthood was debated, reviewed and reformulated, and these new forms were then imposed on populations. Luther ‘nailed’ his theses on the cathedral door of Wittenberg in 1517; the Council of Trent concluded its work in 1563.

Fathers and Godfathers

14

‘autonomous’ transformations that pose interesting problems and require a considerable effort of interpretation. All the issues mentioned above will be dealt with in due course in order to build a well-grounded and coherent picture of little-known historical facts. For the moment, I propose to explain how and why godfathers and godmothers appeared on the scene among Christians and how, from a very different situation, the concept of ‘spiritual kinship’, on which late medieval godparenthood was based, came into being. As well as for baptism, the need for the presence of godparents and the capacity to create spiritual kinship was recognized for another rite, confirmation. The history of godparenthood at confirmation closely follows that of godparenthood at baptism, to which in some way it is subordinated. Consequently, I will concentrate on the latter. I have already mentioned that there are no clear references in the Scriptures either to godparenthood or spiritual kinship; it is not by chance that there is no evidence of them in the very first centuries of the Christian Era. Their appearance is to be seen in relation to an important change that took place in Christendom: the widespread use of infant baptism. In the Primitive Church it was adult baptism that was mainly practised. Between the second and the fourth centuries the main Christian communities developed a series of practices, called together ‘catechumenate’, designed to test and instruct aspiring Christians. To be admitted to this course of instruction, it was necessary to be accompanied and presented by two guarantors (fideiussores, sponsores) who vouched for the dignity and suitability of the candidate. After a period of waiting, which could last some years, the candidate was baptized and the ceremony sanctioned his entry into the Christian community. In practice, the sponsores’ role was also to protect the community and to keep control, first of all because Christians, who were frequently an object of persecution, had every reason to fear attempts by false converts to infiltrate, and secondly because they wished to avoid the risk of receiving ‘heretics’ belonging to other Christian sects or being influenced by them. The fact was that at that time the Church was torn by profound differences. The sponsores, therefore, came into being when Christianity was nothing more than a sect, struggling to survive in a world in which paganism prevailed. 

  In certain periods, it was thought that confession/penitence and the catechumenate also gave rise to spiritual kinship and consequently to marriage impediments, even though they were far less common than those linked to baptism and confirmation. The spiritual kinship which derived from catechumens’ preparation was totally and finally suppressed by the Council of Trent; the spiritual kinship which derived from confession had disappeared centuries before, perhaps at the hand of Boniface VIII (Iung 1937).   On sponsores and their role in the Early Church, see Lynch 1986; Signorini 1981; Leclerq 1938; Torquebiau 1937.

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

15

Infant baptism spread in deeply different conditions, at a time when Christianity was consolidating as the dominant religion. In Italy from the fifth century, baptizing newborn babies became customary, at least in cities (Cattaneo 1975). On the one hand, this development is closely linked to the fact that Christianity became less and less a religion of conversion, as now most children were born to parents who were already Christians and, on the other, to the consolidation of new theological trends that led to the belief that in order to obtain salvation, baptism was absolutely essential, with no exceptions. St. Augustine, at the beginning of the fifth century, also maintained that children who were not baptized could not go to heaven. In order not to put the souls of the children at risk, it was necessary to baptize them as soon as possible. An important ritual and theological problem was soon to arise: the rite of baptism demanded an active participation and required at least the use of speech. The problem was solved by godparents, direct descendants of the ancient sponsores, replying to the priest’s questions in place of the child. This, at least, is the ‘traditional’ interpretation of the advent of godparenthood. However, it is only a partial and insufficient explanation, insofar as even in previous centuries there were cases of the baptism of infants, who were taken to the font by their own parents. The presence of adults at the ceremony was obviously necessary, but that did not mean that they had to be godparents. Thus, from the beginning, the spread of the institution of godparenthood required a degree of theological elaboration (the distinction between the ‘carnal generation’ and the ‘spiritual generation’), which led to the exclusion of parents as sponsores of their own children. As we shall see, the Council of Mainz of 813 expressly forbade parents to act as godparents to their own children, but for some time this practice had already fallen into disuse. Godparenthood and spiritual kinship, therefore, somehow came into being together, even though, particularly as far as the latter is concerned, it would take several centuries before a complete theological and legal formulation was devised. The Church recognized in these new figures, the godparents, a role as tutors in the Christian education of the child, which they shared 

  Augustine, De anima et eius origine, cit. in Le Goff 1982, pp. 84 ff.   We know that at the time of St. Augustine (354–430), it was normal that parents acted as godparents at their child’s baptism. It was such common practice that Bishop Boniface expressed the opinion that only parents could fulfil this role. St. Augustine contradicted him in a letter with a wealth of examples, citing the children of slaves baptized by their owners, and children who were orphans or foundlings (Kearney 1925, pp. 30–31). 

   This view was originally put forward by Anita Guerreau-Jalabert (1995, pp. 161– 162).

16

Fathers and Godfathers

with the parents of the child baptized. The function of the sponsores was completely reviewed, but it was as educators that the enduring link with their original role as guarantors of the moral quality of their pupils is to be found. Once the need for the presence at baptism of godfathers and godmothers had been recognized, with its aim of clearly separating the natural generation and the spiritual generation, it was by no means a foregone conclusion that godparents were considered in the same light as ‘relations’. In the long term this could be considered a semi-automatic evolution, consequence of the parallelism between natural birth and spiritual birth (or better, rebirth), which was already in progress when godparents first appeared. In other words, if natural kinship is a corollary of natural birth, then spiritual kinship is a corollary of spiritual birth, deemed by theologians to be even more important. This kind of reasoning, however, reflects a certain teleological flaw, that is, a tendency to rationalize a historical process from knowledge of its result rather than its cause. It is more correct from a methodological point of view, and more interesting at a level of historical analysis, to reconstruct the way in which the idea of spiritual kinship increasingly comes to mirror the natural one, acquires a similar extension and becomes governed by analogous marriage interdictions. It was the taboo of incest, so strongly rooted in western societies, and the deeply disturbing suspicion that the relationship between people related by godparenthood could create barriers not to be crossed, that led civil and religious authorities to lay down rules that established matrimonial bans for the spiritual generation. Where there is incest there is certainly kinship; the safest foundation of spiritual kinship (far more than any theological reflection) was, right from the outset, the restriction on sexual relations. A difficulty clearly emerges that can be put as follows: which comes first, kinship or incest? To a certain extent they come together like two sides of the same coin but, if by kinship we intend that which is officially recognized and sanctioned by matrimonial interdiction, it must be recognized that in the case in question, incest comes first. In fact, the initial drive to regulate relationships between those related by baptism came from the scandal that came to light in cases judged as incestuous by members of Christian    For Jews and Christians, incest is first prohibited in the Old Testament in Leviticus 18: 5–18. The rules governing it were taken up again, developed and reiterated in a long series of councils.    Canonical tradition recognized four ‘forms’ of kinship (cognatio) which prohibited marriage and sexual relations: natural kinship or blood relations, kinship due to alliances or affinity (ensuing from marriage), legal kinship or adoption, and spiritual kinship (Cimetier 1932).

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

17

communities. It is possible that at the root of this perception was preaching by leaders of the clergy based on precise theological reasonings, but due to a dearth of sources this cannot be verified. It is necessary, however, to point out that even the notion of impediment or ban on marriage presents a margin of ambiguity, as it would be a mistake to claim that the effective extension of matrimonial impediments corresponds exactly to that contemplated in canon law. Proof is the fact that, even in recent times, there have been cases of societies where interdictions perceived and applied by the population have gone far beyond those envisaged by the Church.10 I think these issues deserve to be carefully researched in the light of the history of mentalities, linked to more general considerations.11 This, however, goes beyond my competence and my mandate. I will, therefore, limit myself to describing how the growth of the spiritual kinship in force on the eve of the Council of Trent progressed. Essentially this will be based on the few sources available for ancient times, which are usually legal. This will also enable us to get an impression of the way this relationship was perceived. One aspect that deserves underlining is that, in general, the regulations concerning spiritual kinship seem to have been engendered as a reaction: as already noted, it is the perception of a scandal caused by cases which actually happened that led to the intervention of the legislators. On the other hand, their intervention was not effective everywhere. There continued to be cases of ‘spiritual incest’, both where the population was unaware of any impediment, and, to a lesser degree, where they were conscious of it. At the time of the Council of Trent, the scandals caused by the violation of the rules governing spiritual kinship to a large extent still determined the way baptism was reformed. As far as we know, the first document to contain a ban on marriage on account of spiritual kinship is a letter by the Emperor Justinian, addressed to the prefect of the praetorium, Julian, in October 530. The letter was in reply to questions posed on the legality of certain marriages;

10

  In the latter part of the last century, Pitt-Rivers (1976a) discovered that the taboo of incest continued among the compadres of the Spanish Sierra, even though it was officially abolished by the Code of Canon Law in 1917. Numerous other cases of taboo, mainly concerning areas in South America, are indicated by Salvatore D’Onofrio (1995). As well as the above-mentioned taboo between godparents and parents of the baptized, there is also that between ‘spiritual brothers’ (the godchildren and children of a particular godparent), abolished by the Council of Trent in 1563, or that between godchildren of the same godparent, never officially recognized by the Catholic Church, and attested also in Greece among the Orthodox. I will come back to these vetoes in this and later chapters. 11

  See, for example, Pierre Legendre’s thoughts on the problem of incest (1988).

Fathers and Godfathers

18

it was included in the famous Code of Civil Law.12 The ban envisaged by Justinian concerns marriages between a godfather and a goddaughter and is justified by the fact that the very relationship of godparenthood, more than anything else, can generate paternal affection; it is for this reason that this kind of union is ‘incestuous’.13 The second step in the extension of spiritual kinship was the Trullan Synod, convened in 692 at Constantinople by the Emperor Justinian II. In canon 53, Justinian’s ban is reiterated, with an addition: marriage is also banned between a godfather and the mother of the godson, when she is a widow. The canon justifies the rule by pointing out that a spiritual relationship is more important than a physical one, and must, therefore, have precedence; also, in this case the Council fathers were aware of actual cases and their aim was to prevent analogous instances in the future (Lynch 1986, p. 230). This extension of the limits of spiritual incest is important because with it comes the emergence of the concept of compaternitas, which is at the origin of the ‘comparatico’. The way these doctrinal formulations of the Eastern Church were received in the West was conditioned by the difficult relationship between Emperor and Pope. It was the wish of Justinian II that the conclusions of the Trullan Synod were accepted also in the West, but he had to overcome the resistance of the Pope, who did not completely concur with them. It was only in 711 that a compromise was reached. Pope Constantine I accepted most of the canons of the Trullan Synod (including 53), but excluding those that Rome did not find acceptable. His successor, Gregory II, had the substance of canon 53 accepted also by the Council of Rome of 721 12

  Justinian Code, book V, title IV, law XXVI.   At a time when baptism of adults was still frequent, it often happened that there was little difference in age between the godparent and his godchildren, and scandals and incestuous relations would come to light shortly after the ceremony. An interesting case is reported by the Byzantine historian Procopius. Belisarius, Justinian’s famous general, had in service a young man named Teodosius, born to a couple who were not Christians. Before embarking on a journey to Libya, Belisarius personally baptized the young man. Consequently, narrates Procopius, Belisarius’s wife, Antonina, became fond of Teodosius, as was appropriate, since the young man had become her son on account of the baptismal ceremony. However, during their journey to Libya, her love turned into an insatiable passion and she began to meet Teodosius secretly. According to Procopius the situation degenerated even further, and, once it became known, caused an extremely grave scandal. The story shows how at the time of Justinian, relations between godparents and godchildren roused indignation and not, it would seem, because of a violation of recent imperial precepts, but on account of a feeling of decorum that was common in various Christian communities. What is more, the scandal arose not from the relationship between godfather and goddaughter, but from that between the wife of the godfather (Antonina) and the godson of her husband (Teodosius). The perceived limits of incest are thus more extensive than those laid down by law. Procopius of Caesarea, Secret History, 1.1. 13

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

19

(canon 4), which was widely publicized and had an enormous influence. It was an important step, as for the first time a ban on marriage on account of spiritual kinship was recognized by the West. Gregory II probably also encouraged its inclusion in the edict of 72314 of the Longobard king, Liutprand, which, moreover, envisaged a ban on marriage between a godson and the daughter of the godparent, as they also were to be considered spiritual kin. This is the principle of the fraternitas spiritualis (‘spiritual brotherhood’); when fully established, it resulted in a ban on marriages between all the children of a given godfather or godmother and all their godsons and goddaughters. It is necessary to refer to the Eastern Church also for the formulation of the principle of the fraternitas spiritualis. It is significant that its date is close to Liutprand’s edict. Recognizing the fact that after two centuries the Justinian Code was not only obsolete but had been written in a language (Latin) that in the Byzantine Empire was now little known, the Emperor Leo III and his son Constantine V put forward an ambitious project to prepare a new code, known as Ecloga (‘Selection’), which was published in 726 or 741. Its provisions on marriage seem to be influenced far more by Christian regulations than by the Justinian Code. Regarding the interdictions on marriage for spiritual kinship, as well as those already in existence, another two were now recognized: between the children of the godfather and his godchildren, linked by fraternitas spiritualis, and between the sons of the godfather and his compadri, that is, those who were connected to him by compaternitas spiritualis, in other words the parents of his godchildren. Furthermore, the existence of spiritual kinship was recognized along with the relative ban on marriage also between the person baptizing and the person baptized.15 According to Joseph H. Lynch, the Ecloga reveals a tendency to extend the same impediment to marriage for spiritual kinship as for natural kinship (Lynch 1986, pp. 230–234). He also surmises that, as in the case of the Justinian Code of 530, customs already adopted by the population were simply being officially recognized; there is, however, no proof of this. The West’s complete acceptance of the precepts of the Ecloga concerning spiritual brotherhood was not long in coming. Pope Zacharias (741–752), replying in a letter to a question posed by the Bishop of Pavia, Theodore, on 14

 On the troubled history of the reception in the West of the Trullan Synod, Lynch 1986 pp. 234–240. 15   Although, at the time, anyone could celebrate baptism in cases of emergency, normally it was the responsibility of the clergy. In the Byzantine Church, priests could only marry before their ordination, that is, before they were able to celebrate baptism. The marriage restriction that had the most practical importance, therefore, was that which took place between the children whom a priest had had before ordination and the children whom he baptized, who were related by fraternitas spiritualis.

20

Fathers and Godfathers

whether it was opportune to allow a man to marry the goddaughter of his father, declares that it is so horrible that it should not even be mentioned; and taking up an issue already discussed at the Trullan Synod, he implies that spiritual incest is even worse than that between blood relations (Lynch 1982, pp. 240–242). Zacharias also played a key role in the diffusion of the regulations governing spiritual kinship between the Franks and the Anglo-Saxons, populations who seemingly knew virtually nothing of the impediments to marriage for spiritual kinship until the eighth century (Lynch 1986, p. 247). The innovation met considerable resistance on the part of local clergy, but in the end papal authority managed to prevail, above all thanks to the growing political détente between the papacy and the Franks. In 813 the Council of Châlons-sur-Marne examined an interesting abuse. It seems that some women acted as godmothers to their own children in order to obtain a separation from their spouses; the condition of compaternitas had been created between them and this was considered to be a valid reason for the annulment of marriage. Perhaps to avoid this kind of situation, in the same year the Council of Mainz forbade parents to act as godparents to their own children (Fine 1994, p. 22). In fact, the custom of resorting to a spiritual kinship to obtain divorce, which otherwise would have been illegitimate, was a real cliché in canon law, to be found throughout the whole of the Middle Ages.16 Following the ban on being godparents to their own children, the custom was to ‘realize’ that there was a spiritual connection pre-existing the marriage, which up to that moment had been ‘forgotten’. Given the considerable extent of marriage impediments due to baptism and the large number of godfathers and godmothers for each ceremony, this could not have been a difficult path to follow. Obviously there were scandals which, in different circumstances, led the Council of Trent to take drastic action. From the tenth century, the Eastern Church continued to extend the interdictions on marriage due to baptism to include all the blood relations of the godson and all the blood relations of the godparent to the same degree already recognized for consanguinity (Fine 1994, pp. 25–26). For the time being, I will leave the circumstances of the Eastern Church, concentrating instead on the territories that were under papal authority. Besides, the Schism of the East (1054) abruptly reduced the capacity of the two sides of Christianity to influence each other. In 1140, some of the ancient texts were included in the canonical collection of Gratian, which would be widely circulated and largely used also in the following centuries. In it we find a clear description of the 16   On the other hand, similar occurrences are to be found in the case of ‘natural’ kinship: see Duby 1981.

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

21

three components of the ‘system’ of spiritual kinship in use at the time, which are worth recapitulating: the paternitas, or the direct link between godfathers, godmothers, the person who administered baptism and the godchild; the compaternitas that linked godfathers, godmothers and the minister of baptism to the parents of their godchild; the fraternitas that established spiritual kinship between the natural children of the godfathers, the godmothers and the minister of baptism and their godchild.17 If we supplement the picture provided by the Decretum Gratiani with commentaries dedicated to it, for example that of Etienne de Tournay,18 an even more complex picture emerges. As well as the relationships quoted above, considered ‘direct’, there are others that are ‘indirect’: between the godchild and the spouses of the godfathers, of the godmothers and of the minister of baptism; and between the parents of the child and the spouses of their godfathers, godmothers and the minister of baptism.19 All these people are connected by spiritual kinship, and consequently separated by the barrier of incest. This extension of spiritual kinship corresponds to the one generally recognized by the Catholic world on the eve of the Council of Trent. In the years following Gratian’s decree, however, there were attempts to further extend the boundaries of spiritual incest. In 1355, the Council of Prague counted 21 cases of legally recognized impediments to marriage, including a ban on unions between godparents and the children and grandchildren of their godchildren and between the children of godparents and brothers and sisters of the baptized (Fine 1994, p. 22). The comments made up to now on the relationship between the way incest was perceived and the positive law that ‘officially’ recognized its existence must not lead us to believe that, always and everywhere, it implied a juridical acceptance of a common sentiment. In fact, if it is certain that at the origins of the oldest positive laws on spiritual incest there was what was considered scandalous conduct, these norms were applied over very large areas characterized by different customs and traditions. I have already hinted at the difficulties the papal authority encountered when trying to 17

  Decretum Gratiani, in J. P. Migne, PL, CLXXXVII.   Cited in Guerreau-Jalabert 1995, pp. 172–174. 19   This is the compaternitas indirecta, that was constituted on the basis of the principle of unitas carnis between husband and wife. For a correct distinction between the various forms of spiritual kinship according to canon law, see Iung 1937. It is to be noted that the indirect forms of spiritual kinship were already expressly mentioned in texts collected in Decretum Gratiani: the purpose of commentaries was to systematically order and clarify the distinction between direct and indirect forms. Note also that the Church has never recognized the existence of spiritual kinship between godfathers and godmothers, despite the fact that sometimes in works on godparenthood, (mistaken) affirmations to the contrary are to be found. 18

Fathers and Godfathers

22

get the notion of spiritual incest recognized in the land of the Franks. An extremely interesting case was debated at the synod of Florence in 1517. It dealt with the issue of cases of spiritual incest between godparents and godchildren, which were frequent when the two were of the opposite sex and more or less the same age. Its statutes affirm that when they occurred it was because of a popular belief that between the parties a state had been created of familiare consortium (‘familial closeness’), where marriage was the natural consequence.20 The local population, then, had a very different conception of spiritual incest from the ecclesiastical authorities. The passage is interesting for other reasons. First, it gives us a clue to the real significance of spiritual kinship, or to the way in which it conditioned and shaped the relationship between those who were connected by it.21 Second, it is an important witness of how, on the very eve of the Council of Trent, the Church still encountered enormous difficulties in imposing its point of view on populations that tended to develop autonomously their own ideas of godparenthood. Due to the canon laws in force at the beginning of the sixteenth century, which potentially were complicated by local customs of which we know very little, numerous bonds of spiritual kinship were created for each godparent, given also that the relations of the godparent and those of his godchildren were involved. The abundance of ties of spiritual kinship is remarkable insofar as in vast areas of Europe extremely large numbers of godfathers and godmothers accompanied each baptism. Up to now scant attention has been paid to this fact. Instead, it is crucial to our full understanding of the importance of the Tridentine reform of godparenthood and the social transformation that it generated. We can say that if recognized as one of the key events in the history of godparenthood, it gives us a new perspective on godparenthood as a social institution. Like spiritual kinship, it would also seem that the number of godparents present at each baptism increased as time went by. However, unlike in the case of spiritual kinship, the Church neither supported nor approved this trend; the history of the norms governing the number of spiritual kinsmen is basically the history of repeated attempts to suppress customs that were spreading autonomously in various parts of Europe.

20

  In this case, popular beliefs seem to go in the opposite direction to the tendency to extend the limits of spiritual incest beyond those laid down by canon law, which has been indicated by different sources for preceding periods. However, it is to be noted that what has been observed for the Florentine diocese can in no way be generalized or extended to other areas of Christendom; the fact that the customs connected to godparenthood differed considerably from one area to another commends extreme caution. 21   The statutes of the Synod of Florence have been interpreted and discussed from this point of view by John Bossy (1979, p. 443).

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

23

Originally, each child baptized had only one godfather or godmother, normally of the same sex as the child. It is difficult to establish exactly when this situation began to change. Lynch, for example, connects this transformation with the collapse of traditional rules that took place during the ninth century.22 Actually, we do not know whether, perhaps only in certain areas, it had been customary for some time to appoint numerous godfathers and godmothers. The only thing that seems certain, on the basis of the few sources available, is that from the ninth century the Church began to fight against the spread of practices that increased the number of godparents, something it had perhaps simply chosen to ignore up to then. It is difficult to judge how effective these actions were, but everything leads us to believe that they were unsuccessful: first of all, because they were repeated in the course of time, and secondly, because during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when the first records of baptisms appeared, enabling us to check what really happened, we discover customs that radically deviated from the norms. Already at the end of the ninth century, the Council of Metz (893) attempted to impose a return to the old tradition of the single godparent. Canon 6 states: ‘Not two or more [persons] receive the child at the baptismal font, but only one, as a move in this direction would offer an opening to the devil and would belittle the reverence due to such a great ministry. In fact, one [is] God, one baptism, one, who receives him at the font, must [therefore] be the [spiritual] father or mother of the child’.23 It is a firm and strongly worded condemnation of the practice of multiple godparents. Efforts by the Church to contain the so-called ‘proliferation’ of godparents24 continued in the following centuries. In the thirteenth century, Pope Boniface VIII’s desire to reinstate the tradition of the single godparent was frustrated (Bossy 1979, p. 443; Signorini 1981, p. 32). During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it seems that many councils tried to reach a sort of compromise, proposing a model that contemplated two godfathers and one godmother for boys and vice versa for girls.25 Producing various examples, Abbot Corblet commented that, 22

 Lynch observes that from this moment there is no way of satisfactorily estimating the average number of godparents present at the ceremonies (Lynch 1986, pp. 205–206). 23   ‘... et infantem nequaquam duo vel plures, sed unus a fonte baptismatis suscipiat, quia in hujuscemodi secta diabolo datur locus, et tanti ministerii reverentia vilescit. Nam unus Deus, unum baptismum, unus, qui a fonte suscipit, debet esse Pater vel Mater infantis’ (Council of Metz, Canon 6, taking the quotation from Lynch 1986, p. 209). 24   That is, their tendency to become ever more numerous. Here I am using an expression originally coined by Lynch 1986. 25   Among others, the Councils of Salisbury (1217), Trèves (1227), Compiègne (1229), Worcester (1240), Cologne (1281), Exeter (1287). Corblet 1881–1882, p. 204.

Fathers and Godfathers

24

despite the Council’s instructions, the ternary number was exceeded with no great difficulty. Besides, many synodal statutes were expressly more tolerant.26 The ‘ternary model’, preferred by the councils of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, corresponds to a practice already in use in many areas for some time, as Hugh of St. Victor (c.1096–1141) witnesses; his own recommendation is that there should be a limit of one godfather or godmother.27 Sometimes the regulations aimed at limiting the number of spiritual kin were spectacularly infringed. Corblet reported that in the late Middle Ages, in certain parts of France and Switzerland, there were those who had as godparent a body made up of numerous people (for example an entire city, a village or a guild; Corblet 1881–1882, p. 205). This has to some extent been confirmed by Christiane Klapisch-Zuber’s research on Florence. In the fifteenth century, a significant number of children who were baptized had, as ‘collective godparents’, a college, a magistracy, a guild or a monastery.28 At the Council of Basel in 1432 the impression we get is that the Church seems to be losing control over the institution of godparenthood: one of those convened makes the comment that ‘in some provinces men run in droves from all over the place to receive an infant at the sacred font’.29 At the time of the Council of Basel, the considerable confusion in the customs actually practised corresponded to a confusion in local norms (whether or not they were respected), despite the already mentioned approval of the ternary model, which, however, was far less commonly adopted than is generally believed. If we take France as an example, we can see from the synodal statutes of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that only one spiritual parent was allowed at Dax and Cahors, one or two

26

  The Synod of Cambrai, before the fourteenth century, permitted two godfathers and two godmothers, to whom could be added two secular priests and two nuns; the Synod of Tournay of 1481 consented to go beyond the three godparents provided they shared the same office (e.g. members of a certain magistracy) or if they were members of the clergy (Corblet 1881–1882, p. 205), and the Synod of Chartres permitted three or four spiritual kin (Adam 1964, pp. 267–269). The Council of Canerich, held in Germany in 1300, permitted up to eight sponsores of baptism, of whom four were lay people and four from the clergy (Kearney 1925, p. 44). In Spain, an edict of the Order of Santiago de la Espada of 1440 cautioned priests not to allow more than two godfathers and two godmothers (Foster 1953, p. 4). 27   Hugh of St. Victor, De Sacramentis Christianae Fidei, in J. P. Migne, PL, CLXXVI, col. 458. 28   Klapisch-Zuber has calculated that 5 per cent of the children mentioned in the books of Ricordanze which she consulted had a collective godparent (Klapisch-Zuber 1990, pp. 126–127). 29   ‘… passim currunt in nonnullis provinciis homines catervatim ad levandum puerum de sacro fonte’ (taken from a quotation from Bossy 1979, p. 443).

Godparenthood and Spiritual Kinship

25

at Bourges, two at Châlons, three at Bayeux, Nantes and Arras, three or four at Chartres, and four at Cambrai.30 In time the canon law governing the number of spiritual parents, originally regulated by ecumenical norms, had become fragmentary, alongside the growing confusion in local customs. It was only with the Council of Trent that a return to a common legislation throughout the Catholic Church was possible, although it now had to face a new kind of juridical fragmentation on a territorial basis, due to the loss of vast territories caused by the Reformation gaining ground. Something even more remarkable is that the Council of Trent, as well as making uniform the legislative situation, managed to standardize the practices actually in use, and, at least apparently, succeeded in transforming them into its own model of godparenthood. For the moment, the point that needs to be underlined is that in the long term the Church encountered considerable difficulties in controlling the practices connected to the institution of godparenthood. This is clearly apparent if we look at the number of godparents allowed, and if we take into consideration the fact that the repeated attempts to limit them were regularly ignored, except perhaps in specific areas and at the cost of compromise. As for the extension of spiritual kinship and the relative matrimonial bans, the situation is different because the endeavour to impose norms did not contrast so strongly with the customs in use among the population. Rather, the imposing of norms seems to have followed and ratified a development of the Christian communities that was to some extent autonomous, even though the sources available are insufficient to enable us to reach irrefutable conclusions. The picture is further complicated by the fact that these communities did not share the same idea of spiritual kinship and their ability to influence the formulation of rules differed. The question is a complex one and deserves specific research. Here I will limit myself to stressing what is essential. It is undeniable that, in the two cases mentioned (the number of godparents permitted and the extension of spiritual kinship), the relationship between the Church and the population is qualitatively different: total opposition on the issue of the number of godparents,31 and substantial acquiescence, while not an active and ‘creative’ contribution, on the question of spiritual incest. 30

  Adam 1964, pp. 267–269, except for Arras, whose synodal statues of 1350–1354 were examined by Delmaire (1983), and for Cambrai, whose source is Corblet (1881–1882, p. 205). 31   Actually, the position of the Church as a whole needs to be distinguished from that of its individual members. In fact, in various places the clergy were included among the most highly regarded godparents. On the other hand, they had a stronger than normal personal interest in establishing spiritual kinship ties, as they were excluded from marriage alliances. As parish priests they not infrequently served in communities that were diffident, if not hostile,

26

Fathers and Godfathers

The Church, therefore, which had ‘invented’ godparenthood and spiritual kinship, saw it rapidly getting out of control. In a certain sense, the population valued this social institution too highly, and this is clearly apparent in the uncontrolled proliferation of godparents. It would, however, be a mistake to maintain that the disobedience of the population in respect of ecclesiastical precepts was the same everywhere. It was rather that the problem was largely due to the wide variety of local models of godparenthood, which complicated not a little the task of regulating the various customs. In fact, each community claimed the right to keep its own customs, which distinguished it from others, and this was the main argument of those who at the Council of Trent opposed a reduction in the number of godparents. What exactly did this ‘fragmentation of customs’ comprise? What were its characteristics and what was its extent? Finally, what was its significance: why did the parents of the infants to be baptized have an interest in wanting more or fewer godfathers and godmothers? And why was the Church alarmed by the presence of a large number of godparents at a baptism? It is imperative to answer these questions if we are to understand the reasons which, in the middle of the sixteenth century, led ecclesiastical authorities drastically to reform godparenthood.

towards them. They could therefore reap considerable benefits from an institution such as godparenthood, which, like marriage, could generate formal relationships or friendship. Therefore it can be said that the hope of being asked to be a godparent tended to make them favourable to the practice of attributing numerous spiritual kin. See Alfani 2004b.

CHAPTER 2

Godparents and Compari between the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries: a Wide Variety of Local Customs Between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the synods and councils which examined the problems associated with godparenthood give the impression that there was considerable discrepancy among local customs. As a consequence, children were often given more godfathers and godmothers than seemed appropriate. If, on the one hand, these sources enable us to state that the proliferation of godparents was quite common, they do not allow us to obtain a detailed analysis of the practices concerning this phenomenon. To do this, it is necessary to rely on documents that can provide more information: for example memorials (libri di ricordanze) or family records (libri di famiglia). These documents, however, usually have the defect of providing information that is restricted to social groups and well-defined milieux, and do not permit an analysis that covers the whole population. It may seem strange, but the source that best enables us to obtain information about parents and godparents of baptized infants, namely the parish registers of baptisms, has very rarely been used to study more remote times, and especially those before the Council of Trent. In these registers the parish priest or his assistant noted the date when the baptism was celebrated, the name given to the infant, the personal details of the father, the name of the mother (with or without her maiden name) and the personal details of the godparents, including any title they might have had, where they came from and, sometimes, their profession. While the information contained in the registers could vary from place to place and from one parish priest to another, by and large they are quite well-endowed sources, which enable us to reconstruct a network of relationships whose contents and effects can then be examined using different documents.

   These sources have been used especially by Christiane Klapisch-Zuber (1990). I will analyse her results in detail later.

Fathers and Godfathers

28

All infants baptized had to be registered regardless of fortune and rank, including illegitimate offspring and foundlings. It is quite possible that the reasons why parish registers have been underused in the study of pre-Tridentine godparenthood were, on the one hand, a mistaken conviction that none was old enough, except for rare cases, and, on the other, the fact that their importance was not recognized because, according to Mintz and Wolf (1950), at the end of the Middle Ages godparenthood was already on the decline. I discussed the second point in the Introduction. As for the first, it is true that it was only the Council of Trent, which drew to its close in 1563, that established that parish priests were required to record the celebration of baptisms and weddings in special registers. However, in issuing the regulations governing the registration of baptisms, the Council was merely accepting that the practices widespread in many areas, including northern Italy, should be made universal (Alfani 2003b). Thanks to parish registers that go back to the second half of the fifteenth century or the first part of the sixteenth, I have been able accurately to reconstruct, for numerous communities in northern Italy, the customs in force before the Council concerning the number of godfathers and godmothers ascribed to each infant baptized. For eight of these communities I have collected a wide sample of baptisms (all the baptisms celebrated from the time when registers began to be kept to well into the seventeenth century). I have thus dispelled any doubts about the statistical relevance of the results. The area covered, from west to east, comprises Turin, Ivrea, Azeglio in Piedmont, Finale in Liguria, Bellano and Voghera in Lombardy, Mirandola in Emilia-Romagna and Gambellara in Veneto. These communities are situated in areas that are quite different one from the other, and in the sixteenth century were under different governments. Each of them differed in size, social organization, prevailing economic activity and so



  For an evaluation of the baptismal registers as sources for historical demography, see Corsini 1974.    Ivrea, Turin and Azeglio were part of the Duchy of Savoy. Turin became its capital in 1560. Bellano and Voghera were part of the Duchy of Milan and regularly shared its fate. The Counts Dal Verme were the lords of Voghera, even though towards the end of the sixteenth century they lost their feudal domain. Finale Ligure was an imperial fiefdom under the lordship of the Del Carretto. In that period it was divided into three burgs, Finalborgo, Finale Marina and Finale Pia. For a long time Finale was a thorn in the flesh of the Republic of Genoa, which finally acquired it in 1713. Mirandola was the ‘capital’ of the county of the same name, with the investiture of the Pico family, who were given a dukedom in 1617. Gambellara, a rural community in the countryside of Vicenza, belonged to the Republic of Venice.

Godparents and Compari

29

on: all factors that probably influenced the choice of godfathers and godmothers both in terms of numbers and the composition of the group from which each parent could choose the spiritual kin, and in terms of the considerations which led them to prefer one person rather than another. For reasons of space, I am not able here to give detailed information for each locality, so I will limit myself to highlighting, where necessary, some key points. In Table 2.1 I have recorded the percentage of baptisms where one, two, three or more godfathers were present for each locality studied; Table 2.2 shows the same data for godmothers. I have put together the baptisms of boys and girls, as the sex of the child made little difference to the number of godfathers and godmothers for each infant. The data span the period between the date of the beginning of records and 1562 (the year before the conclusion of the Council of Trent), except for any gap in the sources. The interval differs from place to place: in Ivrea, which has the oldest registers, the first records go back to 1473, 

  I will limit myself to giving some demographic data, which will help to give an idea of the existence of a town rather than a rural community, as well as a more or less developed and varied society. Turin, which had 14,244 inhabitants in 1517, by 1612 had increased to 24,410. The tumultuous demographic and urban growth that this city experienced in those years was due to the move in 1563 of the Court of Savoy from Chambéry. Over those same years Ivrea’s population grew from 3,031 to 4,467, still a long way from the 5,300 inhabitants that Beloch estimated in 1377 (in the same year, the number of inhabitants estimated for Turin was only 3,500). All in all, the sixteenth century was a period of demographic and economic stagnation for cities because of the suffering and consequences caused on various occasions by the Wars of Italy. For Finale, I have an estimate of the population only for Final Borgo which probably counted about 2,000 inhabitants around 1500 (Beloch 1994). The figure that Beloch suggests for Voghera for 1576 (1,600 inhabitants) is unacceptable as in no way does it correspond to the number of baptisms celebrated in the city around that date. If we take the birth rate as 38 per 1,000, we can conjecture that for that same year the population was 7,000 inhabitants (there were in fact 254 baptisms). I have estimated about 3,800 inhabitants for the mid century by taking the average number of baptisms celebrated in the period 1545– 1555 and assuming a birth rate of 38 per 1,000. Authors other than Beloch make estimates that are substantially in line with my calculations. For example, Manfredi (1908) affirms that in 1586 the city had more than 8,000 inhabitants. As for Azeglio, Bellano, Gambellara and Mirandola, as I do not have other estimates, I have made my own calculations using the same procedure as for Voghera. The result is that towards the mid century Azeglio had about 850 inhabitants, Bellano 660, Gambellara 680 and Mirandola 3,200. Here it is not my intention to make estimates that are absolutely correct from a statistical point of view, but to give a rough idea of the size of each community.    On this subject, it would obviously be important to know which families made up the local elite, the relationship between them, if there were disagreements within the community, and so on. Among the centres I have studied, Mirandola had for a long time been the seat of a court, and in mid-sixteenth century Turin welcomed the court of Savoy. The Pico family in Mirandola and certain members of the Savoy Court in Turin (I only have at my disposal data for the parish of S. Agostino) were particularly popular as godparents.    I will come back to this in Chapter 7.

30

Fathers and Godfathers

while in Turin, the ‘latest’ to record baptisms, the records only go back as far as 1551. I felt it was preferable to emphasize the extent of the samples of baptisms rather than their perfect chronological coherence; and in any case, in the period in question godparenthood models had from time immemorial been consolidated and were stable. First of all, let us consider the godfathers. The most important distinction between local models is between where there were ‘many’ and where there were just a ‘few’. On the one hand, we find Bellano, Ivrea, Turin, Azeglio and Voghera, where on average there were more than two godfathers for each baptism and where it is relatively rare to find only one or none (in 16.6 per cent of the cases in Bellano, in 28 per cent in Ivrea, in 26.9 per cent in Turin, in 19.4 per cent in Azeglio and only 10 per cent in Voghera). On the other hand, in Finale, Gambellara and Mirandola, on average the godfathers are decidedly less than two for each baptism. However, the case of Finale is in turn different from that of Mirandola: in Finale there are two godfathers in the absolute majority of baptisms (51 per cent) and in certain cases their number reaches three or four, while in Mirandola the norm is for one godfather, sometimes two, rarely three and almost never four or more. If we keep in mind the social customs and possible strategies for the selection of spiritual kin, this difference is not something to be underestimated. Gambellara represents a case which is about halfway between Finale and Mirandola.

   For Ivrea, I have used four registers of the baptisms in the parish of S. Ulderico, concerning the periods 1473–1505, 1524–1585, 1586–1610 and 1587–1800 (parish archive of the Cathedral of Ivrea). The last register contains the original registrations regarding 1611–1800, as well as a copy of those of 1586–1610. No entries are available for the years 1506–1523. For Azeglio, I have used the oldest parish register, covering the years 1543– 1599, after which there is a long gap in entries (parish archive of Azeglio). For Turin, I have used the register of the parish of S. Agostino in Turin spanning 1551–1617 (parish archive of S. Agostino of Turin). For Bellano, I used a register of the parish of the SS. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso, for 1533–1639 (parish archive of Bellano) For Voghera, I used four registers of the parish of S. Lorenzo (the Cathedral) for the periods 1534–1566, 1534–1570, 1567–1591 and 1592–1621 (archive of the Cathedral of Voghera). For Finale Ligure, I have resorted to the two registers of the parish of S. Maria, part of the Abbey of Finalpia, for the periods 1481–1592 and 1593–1644 (archive of the Abbey of Finalpia). For Gambellara, I used six registers of the parish of S. Pietro Apostolo, for the years 1541–1554, 1555–1564, 1564–1579, 1592–1609, 1609–1617 and 1617–1699 (archive of the Diocese of Vicenza). For Mirandola, I worked on seven registers of S. Maria Maggiore (Cathedral) for the years 1484–1521, 1521–1556, 1556–1568, 1568–1575, 1575–1586, 1587–1599 and 1600–1613 (archive of the Cathedral of Mirandola).    This is confirmed by the figures in Chapter 5.

Table 2.1

Average number of godfathers in northern Italy (up to 1562)

Godfathers per baptism (%)

Bellano

Ivrea

Turin

Azeglio

Voghera

Finale

Gambellara

Mirandola

0

1.74

0.93

6.48

0.51

0.37

1.74

1.23

0.46

1

14.81

27.09

20.37

18.87

10.16

43.44

63.32

85.36

2

31.18

34.52

30.56

32.08

62.99

51.02

30.51

13.16

3

27.87

18.51

17.59

46.83

24.33

3.48

4.41

0.90

4

11.67

8.29

16.67

1.20

1.98

0.31

0.53

0.11

5

6.45

5.07

6.49

0.17

0.17

0

0

0.04

>5

6.27

5.57

1.85

0.17

0

0

0

0.02

Average number of godfathers

2.86

2.55

2.44

2.34

2.18

1.57

1.4

1.15

Number of baptisms

574

1,399

108

583

4,085

976

567

8,449

First year of records

1533

1473

1551

1543

1534

1481

1541

1484

Table 2.2

Average number of godmothers in northern Italy (up to 1562) Mirandola

Godmothers per baptism (%)

Bellano

Ivrea

Turin

Azeglio

Voghera

Finale

Gambellara

0

3.31

27.49

81.48

2.40

99.83

3.89

1.59

1.04

1

35.37

37.69

7.41

52.83

0.17

46.21

64.73

79.85

2

21.78

22.66

5.56

31.90

0

45.9

28.40

17.96

3

18.99

7.72

0

12.35

0

3.89

5.31

1.12

4

10.63

2.79

3.70

0.51

0

0.10

0.18

0.06

5

5.92

1.14

1.85

0

0

0

0

0.01

>5

4.01

0.57

0

0

0

0

0

0

Average number of godmothers

2.35

1.27

0.43

1.60

0

1.50

1.38

Number of baptisms

574

1,399

108

583

4,085

976

567

8,449

First year of records

1533

1473

1551

1543

1534

1481

1541

1484

1.19

Godparents and Compari

33

The differences within the first group (the one with numerous godfathers) are fewer. The Piedmontese localities and Bellano are rather similar, while Voghera differs in two ways. First, there is a fairly restricted upper limit to the number of godfathers allowed, as I have not found baptisms with more than five godfathers. Second, in Voghera the idea of giving only one godfather to children seems to have been much less acceptable than in Turin or in Ivrea, which brings it closer to Bellano. Apart from these limited differences, looking only at the godfathers, it seems sufficient to distinguish between places where there are ‘many’ and places where there are ‘few’. The situation changes, however, if godmothers are taken into consideration. In their case, the most important distinction is not between where there are ‘many’ and where there are ‘few’, but between where ‘they are present’ and where ‘they are absent’. In Ivrea, Azeglio, Bellano, Finale, Gambellara and Mirandola they are almost always present (respectively in 72.5 per cent, 97.6 per cent, 96.7 per cent, 96.1 per cent, 98.4 per cent and 99 per cent of the cases), while in Turin and Voghera they are almost never present (in 18.5 per cent and in 0.2 per cent of the cases). Where godmothers are present, their number corresponds to that of the godfathers: they are numerous where the godfathers are numerous and only a few where there are just a few godfathers, bearing in mind that on average there tend to be fewer female spiritual kin than male. Where godmothers are absent, we come across appreciable differences from one case to another. In Turin the godmother, present at one in about five baptisms, is quite rare, although it was a known and an accepted practice to ask for one. In Voghera, godmothers were an unknown figure: out of 4,085 baptisms celebrated over a 27-year period, I found them in only seven ceremonies. If we take the eight communities into consideration as a whole, it is clear that there was no general rule that correlated the number of godfathers and godmothers, as is shown by the examples of Turin and Voghera. Moreover, when there were godmothers present, going from the aggregate figures to single baptisms I discovered there were no norms, either positive or customary, that required the infants to be given the same number of godfathers and godmothers; usually the godfathers were the same number or more numerous than the godmothers, but sometimes it was the second group that was predominant. Summing up, the eight localities that have been taken into consideration appear to have adopted at least four different models of godparenthood:

34

Fathers and Godfathers

1. Ivrea, Azeglio and Bellano: many godfathers and many godmothers, with no established limits that obliged the parents not to exceed a certain number of spiritual kin; 2. Turin: many godfathers with no established limits, but only a few godmothers, who were present at about one baptism in five; 3. Voghera: many godfathers, though never more than five, but practically no godmothers; 4. Finale, Gambellara and Mirandola: relatively few godfathers, one or two as a rule, and never more than four (in Mirandola, in extremely rare cases six are reached). Godmothers are always present and on average in the same numbers as the godfathers. If closely examined, the differences between these models, constructed empirically, can be attributed to three variables: the more or less copious supply of godfathers; whether or not godmothers were present; the existence of a clear limit to the maximum number of godfathers allowed. As we will see, these variables can be used to propose a typology of godparenthood models, which is essential to highlight more effectively how different customs were distributed within a region. The notion of ‘limit’ to the number of godfathers ‘allowed’ must be clarified. Generally speaking, what is intended is a ‘social admissibility’ rather than a legal one, in the sense that in each community it was or was not socially correct to choose a certain number of godfathers. It is obviously possible that, in some places, positive norms helped to contain the number of godparents, while on the other hand, the Church’s attempts to regulate godparenthood go back to long before the Council of Trent, and were undertaken both at a general and at a local level. However, we know that the precepts urbi et orbi which determined the number of godfathers were largely ignored, and I discovered no traces of norms issued by local ecclesiastical authorities in the communities studied. I will return to this later. The eight communities already mentioned themselves suggest that there was considerable variation in customs, and that the territorial fragmentation of the practices connected with the choice of godparents was surprisingly high. This impression is confirmed by the information that we can deduce from some studies, unfortunately limited to three areas of Italy: the Republic of Venice, Tuscany and the Kingdom of Naples. In the Republic of Venice, it would seem that in the capital the heirs to the nobility had at least 20 godparents and sometimes up to 100. This information, reported by the Abbot Corblet, has been declared credible

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by recent writers, in my view rather uncritically and it should at least be checked. It is anyway almost certain that in Venice godfathers were extremely numerous, in line with the situation on the Venetian mainland. We know that in the sixteenth century, the heirs to the families belonging to the elite of Verona and Vicenza usually had two spiritual kinsmen, and in some cases more (three, rarely four, at the most five). Often the spiritual kin were all males; also for girls godmothers appear in less than a third of the baptisms (Grubb 1996). For Treviso, studies carried out on a considerable number of baptisms, celebrated at the beginning of the fifteenth century and not confined merely to the elite, have revealed a similar situation.10 The case of Gambellara, previously examined, is comparable to that of Verona and Vicenza, as far as the number of godfathers is concerned, but is radically different if godmothers are taken into account (there is at least one in 98.1 per cent of the baptisms). Gambellara is in the countryside near Vicenza; for the same area the study of a sample of 117 baptisms celebrated at Santorso in the years 1538–154011 has revealed the presence of numerous godfathers (an average of 2.33 per baptism), godmothers being almost always in attendance (in 79.5 per cent of the ceremonies) and quite numerous (an average of 1.44 per baptism), with no precise limit for the maximum number of godfathers and godmothers allowed. It should be underlined that, within the Republic of Venice, the customs of godparenthood change according to the place but, as will be seen, they do not seem to be conditioned by political boundaries. The cases of Verona, Vicenza and Treviso were very much like those described for Turin (numerous godfathers, few godmothers, who, however, were by no means unknown), except for the fact that no baptisms with more than five godfathers are recorded. If we give credence to Corblet, the case of Venice is different insofar as it seems there was no limit to the proliferation of godfathers. It would be interesting, though, to know whether it was customary among the whole population, and whether or not there were godmothers. Santorso’s customs of godparenthood were very similar to those found in Ivrea and Bellano (lots of godfathers and godmothers, with no clear limit). Finally, Gambellara is a case on its own (similar to Finale Ligure): unlike Santorso or Venice, there was a fairly cogent limit to the number of spiritual kin allowed (never more than four).    Corblet 1881–1882. For Venice Corblet does not base his convictions on his own research, but reports information given by the March 1725 number of the Mercure de France. 10   Based on data yet to be published, the result of the patient research of Matthieu Scherman, who very kindly put his findings at my disposal. 11  Diocesan archive of Vicenza, register of the baptisms of Santorso, 1536–1565.

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For Tuscany, Louis Haas and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber have studied Florentine godparenthood thoroughly (Haas 1998, Klapisch-Zuber 1990); the latter, especially, supplies quantitative data on the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Godfathers were numerous also in Florence, given that at half the baptisms, at least, three spiritual kin were present, but often many more: in 2.5 per cent of the cases, more than 10, up to a maximum of 25. Normally (73 per cent of the cases), godmothers were absent, and, anyway, they were fewer in number than the godfathers, as they amounted to only 13 per cent of all the spiritual kin. Apparently, this model of godparenthood exactly matched the one in Turin. Completely different models of godparenthood to those described up to now are attested by Gérard Delille (1988) in the Kingdom of Naples. He concentrates in particular on two models, which, as they were already in force before the Council of Trent, are relevant here: one in Manduria in Apulia, where there were two godfathers and no godmothers, one in the villages in the hills round Salerno, where there was a godmother and only rarely, more or less according to the possibility of social betterment, a godfather. Among the models already mentioned, the only other case where godmothers never appeared is Voghera, where, however, unlike Manduria there were numerous godfathers, and anyway their numbers varied. I was unable to find traces, in northern Italy or anywhere else, of customs like the ones in force in the Salerno area. It is possible to go beyond this broad view of the diffusion of practices governing godparenthood, gathering available information for the rest of Europe, which unfortunately, is less systematic than that available for Italy. As for England and France, it is widely believed that from the Middle Ages a model was enforced (or, rather, it was enforced by a long list of synodal statutes) that decreed two godfathers and a godmother for boys, two godmothers and a godfather for girls. The famous sculptor, Benvenuto Cellini, finding himself in Paris in the year 1544, and having to have his daughter Costanza baptized, asks the king’s physician, Guido Guidi, to be present, and comments, ‘he was the only godfather, because in France the custom is for one godfather and two godmothers’.12 Actually, apart from Cellini’s comment and the probable prevalence of the ternary model, also in France it was anything but rare to find different customs in different places. In Cambrai, in 1550, popular pressure was such as to induce the diocesan synod to allow officially two godfathers and godmothers per baptism (Chaunu 1975). In Porrentruy (situated on 12

  Cellini, Vita, book II, chapter 37 (‘fu lui solo compare, perchè in Francia così è il costume d’un solo compare e dua comare’). Some other examples of this ‘Parisian’ ternary model are contained in Angelo 2005, p. 367.

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the border between the Canton of Jura in Switzerland and France), even before the Council, the model of two godparents, that is, a godfather and a godmother, prevailed (Pegeot 1982). Further information can be deduced from family records. We know that in Arras the heirs to the Le Borgne family had, between the fourteenth and the fifteenth centuries, in 78.6 per cent of the cases, altogether three spiritual kin (according to the classical ‘French’ custom), in 10.7 per cent two godfathers and two godmothers, in 7.9 per cent one of each, in 3.6 per cent three and three (Delmaire 1983). At Brive, in the first half of the sixteenth century, only one godfather and one godmother took part in the baptism of the infants of the Malliard family (Cassan 1996). Even though France, in comparison with Italy, seems to be characterized by more moderation in the number of spiritual kin, there is no lack of evidence for the custom of multiple godparents. Joan of Arc is said to have had four godfathers and five godmothers, if we are to believe those who, 20 years after her execution, were questioned about her infancy. She herself, however, at the time of her trial recalled only two godfathers and three godmothers. The two groups do not exactly match: the list of possible spiritual kin involves altogether four men and eight women (Jussen 1992). As far as England is concerned, I am not aware of any specific cases which are an exception to the prevailing ternary models, but I would not be surprised if the situation was very much like the one in France, as, even today, ‘multi-godparenthood’ is to be found among Anglicans, a sign of the survival of ancient practices. Prince Charles, for example, has eight godparents.13 As regards Holland, we know that at least some of the local gentry in the first part of the sixteenth century accepted the ternary model (Marshall 1987). As for Denmark, the only available evidence comes from the Manuale Curatorum of the Church of Roskilde, that used precisely the same model as above: two godfathers and a godmother for boys and vice versa for girls.14 In other parts of Europe, the extremely sparse information to be found in historiography gives the impression of a situation similar to the multi-

13

  His children William and Harry have three godfathers and three godmothers each. As far as we know at the moment, it cannot be excluded that the custom of giving numerous godfathers and godmothers does not depend on the survival of pre-Tridentine practices, but rather developed after the Reformation and the birth of the Anglican Church, at a time and along geographical routes unknown today. We cannot, moreover, exclude that these multigodparent practices were reserved to the nobility. 14   The note is taken from Societas Goerresiana, Concilium Tridentinum diariorum, actorum, epistularum tractatuum, Herder & Co., Freiburg 1901–1985, vol. VI, p. 491.

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godparent pattern in the centre and north of Italy, rather than the French and northern ternary model. As regards Spain, Foster recalls an edict of the Order of Santiago de la Espada, dated 1440, which exhorted priests not to accept more than two godfathers and two godmothers at baptisms, and the custom of the time was expressly criticized, as some infants were accompanied to the font by more than 20 godparents. The arguments used by the Order to justify the edict are interesting: as there is one father for carnal birth, there must be one for spiritual rebirth or a maximum of two, to honour the child and his parents (Foster 1953). However, in the village of San Nicolás of Granada, Bernard Vincent (1988) discovered a completely different picture. In fact, from a sample of 305 baptisms celebrated between 1549 and 1562 there were just 627 godparents (little more than two for each baptism). The case of San Nicolás, however, is special as it was a village that was mainly Moorish (90 per cent), recently ‘reconquered’ and converted; the end of Arab rule in Granada is dated 1492. The existence of legal clauses restricted the freedom of action of the moriscos, limiting the list of potential godparents only to ‘old Christians’ and probably preventing a more widespread use of comparatico, which, anyway, was new to them.15 For Switzerland, Simon Teuscher (1998) reports some cases of godparenthood in the city of Berne around the year 1500, from which it can be deduced that the number of godfathers at baptism was high (between two and four per ceremony). At Vallorbe, in the Vaud, Lucienne Hubler (1992) discovered an analogous trend for the second half of the sixteenth century; even though the Reformation had already been introduced, there is no reason to believe that the number of godparents was any different from that in preceding years. For Germany, I am not aware of studies which could be useful to reconstruct models of godparenthood in existence on the eve of the Reformation, but, as will be seen, Luther’s preaching and practices still

15

  With a law of 20 June 1511, the Kingdom of Castile decreed that godfathers and godmothers of moriscos had to be ‘Old Christians’ (that is they belonged to families who were Christians before the Reconquest, and not converted Muslims); probably these norms were extended in 1525 to the Kingdom of Aragon. The moriscos protested against this law, not only because it was discriminatory, but also because it was difficult to apply in an area with no old Christians, so much so that often baptisms had to be delayed for several months. The lawmaker, when he became aware of these difficulties, on 27 June 1513 ordered old Christians to hold themselves responsible for the duties of godparenthood, and authorized them to ask the moriscos for payment for taking part in baptisms (thus reversing the onus of godparenthood). It is obvious that with a similar limitation to the ‘spiritual market’, it was ill advised to choose numerous godparents.

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to be found today lead us to believe that giving numerous godparents to children was a widespread custom.16 This unfortunately rather sketchy information concerning Europe can be usefully supplemented with other information inferred from the Acts of the Council of Trent. In fact, within the Council there was a split between those who were in favour of reducing the number of godparents and those who were against it, as they preferred to safeguard the age-old customs of the Church. If we take into account the origin of those who defended the numerous godparents, we have some indirect indications about the practices that were common in the areas not yet taken into consideration. We discover, therefore, that the Bishop of Uppsala, Olaus Magnus, was one of the most fervent opponents of the reduction in the number of spiritual kin, and thus we can conjecture that in his home country it was traditional to have more than one godfather at baptisms, as some research on the centuries immediately following the Council of Trent would seem to confirm.17 In the same way, there are pointers that suggest there was an abundance of godfathers in Scotland and Ireland (the Scot Robert Vauchop, Bishop of Armagh in Northern Ireland), for Flanders (Peter van der Vorst, Bishop of Acqui in Piedmont) and for Greece (Sebastiano Lecavela, Bishop of Naxos, and Gregorio Castagnola, Bishop of Melos, of French origin). Equally interesting indications concern better known areas: Worcester in England (Richard Pate) and Mirepoix in France (Claude de la Guische). In the party opposed to the reduction of godparents there was naturally no lack of bishops from many Italian cities (Arezzo, Bologna, Cingoli, Genoa, Naples, Rome, Siena). Despite the scarcity of information available for Europe as a whole, a factor worthy of reflection emerges. It is, in fact, possible to discern a split on the continent into two main areas:

16

  The oldest example I know of is that of the Lutheran merchant Matheus Miller of Augsburg, who, around the mid-seventeenth century, gave his children three or four godfathers and godmothers altogether (Safley 2000, pp. 112–113). 17   At the beginning of the eighteenth century, in some areas of Sweden, the average number of spiritual kin per baptism was about six, with a maximum found up to now of 18. For example, at Helsimborg, between 1688 and 1709, the children normally had between five and eight spiritual kin, and up to a maximum of 12; 56 per cent of the total number were godmothers (Fagerlund 2000). A couple of centuries later, the situation had not changed: in the city of Umeå, the children baptized in the years 1850–1855 had an average of 4.9 godfathers each; I do not , however, have any data on the godmothers (Ericsson 2000). Solveig Fagerlund has suggested (on the basis of sources not stated in the material I consulted) that prior to the Reformation in Scandinavia, the spiritual kin were usually two or three altogether, and it was only later that the number increased, even though the local Reformed Church did not prescribe it (Fagerlund 2000, p. 348).

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• Northern Europe (England, Holland, Denmark, perhaps Sweden and the north of Germany) and France, where the ternary model prevailed; • Central and southern Europe (Italy, probably Spain and central southern Germany), characterized by a greater propensity to multiple godparenthood and, probably, by a greater fragmentation in the practices themselves. Obviously this is a provisional conclusion that merits verification. If confirmed, it would suggest that very early on in the Modern Era there was a serious fracture within European societies, as the chance to choose from a longer or shorter list of spiritual kin was of considerable social importance. Actually, up to now, the number of godfathers and godmothers present at baptism was thought to be an important element of a godparenthood model – indeed, sufficiently important to make it possible to distinguish different models. It raises the question, though, why the number of spiritual kinsmen should be considered so important, and anyway, whether it is possible to differentiate between models of godparenthood merely on the basis of numbers of godfathers and godmothers. If we think about the importance that relationships of spiritual kinship had and have in traditional societies, we must accept that the number of godparents allowed at a baptism is one of the foremost features of any model of godparenthood. Spiritual kinship was a fundamental means of consolidating networks of social alliances for reasons and in ways I will gradually specify. Therefore, the more godfathers and godmothers it was possible to choose at each baptism, the wider, denser and more solid these networks would be. Not only this, but the chance to choose a more or less extensive number of godfathers and godmothers conditioned the kind of selection strategies that could be put into practice. As will be seen, if we look at the reaction to the Tridentine regulations relating to the peoples who adopted the multi-godparent model, we have indirect confirmation of the importance attributed to a tight network of spiritual kinship relationships. If we accept that the number of spiritual kin was important, is it possible to affirm that in two different localities, where it was customary to have the same number of godparents, the model of godparenthood was the same? Certainly not: suffice it to say that observation of the varieties of godparenthood practised in Catholic communities scattered around the world today leads one to realize that while all accept the ‘couple model’ (almost the only one18 allowed by canon law at the present time), there are 18

  It is quite possible to give children only one godfather or one godmother.

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many different situations, as anthropological research has shown beyond a shadow of doubt. The analysis of the ‘numerical profile’ of the practices of godparenthood, therefore, certainly makes it possible to affirm that some places adopt clearly different models, but not that localities adopt totally analogous models. To say that two models are the same, a thorough examination of each locality and their models of godparenthood would be required, a difficult task owing to the lack of suitable pre-Tridentine sources. So, when I speak of ‘models’ of godparenthood, I mean ‘groups’ of models, characterized by practices in common as far as numbers of godfathers and godmothers are concerned, but within the group there could be further ramifications. Mapping these groups makes it possible to highlight an essential feature: the enormous variety of godparent practices spread throughout Europe, and the considerable degree of fragmentation it leads to in the region. I have already mentioned the need to introduce some form of classification of models of godparenthood in order to be able to study the distribution of the most important practices. In other words, it is necessary to develop a typology of models that is neither so comprehensive that significant differences are overlooked, nor so refined that it prevents the desired simplification. The empirical study of the eight cases described at the beginning of this chapter has made it possible to identify three variables of particular interest: • Is there only one godfather at a baptism or are there more than one? • With more than one godfather, is there a limit to the number of godfathers allowed? • Are there only godfathers or only godmothers, or both? A combination of these three variables enables us to work out the most useful typology. The second and the third variable, however, require further clarification. For the second, what must be the cogency of a limit to the number of godfathers in order to discover a qualitative difference between the models? On the basis of the known cases it seems sensible to choose four godfathers for each baptism. Therefore, the definition ‘limited’ will be used for a model in which in the greatest majority of baptisms (say 99 per cent so that we can allow for the occasional exception) there are at most four godfathers.

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As far as the third variable is concerned, it is preferable to distinguish not between cases where there are never godmothers or godfathers (that is, where spiritual kin attending a baptism are only of one sex), but between cases where they are rare (asymmetric models) and cases in which they are almost always present (symmetric models). To make a distinction, it would be best to set a limit to the presence of godfathers and godmothers in less than one-third of the baptisms.19 With these clarifications in mind, I have worked out a typology that is the result of the combination of three dichotomies: single godfather/multigodfathers;20 limited/unlimited; and symmetric/asymmetric. As the singlegodfather models are by definition limited, we are faced with six types of different models. Actually, it would be possible to reduce the typology from six to four, if we consider the single godfatherhood a subset of the ‘limited’ models. However, I think it preferable to keep the others separate from the rare cases where a single godfather and a single godmother (or one of the two) is present, because they anticipate the ‘couple model’ that was to dominate after the Council of Trent. Besides, all the models where it was customary to attribute more than one godfather, or more than one godmother, for each infant were banned by the Council. Table 2.3

Unlimited

Limited

Typology of godparenthood models Multi-godfather Symmetric Asymmetric Asymmetric Pure multimultigodfather godfather (type 1) (type 2) Limited Limited multiasymmetric godfather multi(type 3) godfather (type 4)

Single godfather Symmetric Asymmetric

Pure single godfather (couple model) (type 5)

Asymmetric single godfather (type 6)

19   Therefore cases like that of Turin, where in only 18.5 per cent (less than one-third) of the baptisms there is at least one godmother, are to be considered ‘asymmetric’, the same as the cases assimilable to Voghera, where godmothers are almost never present (0.2 per cent of baptisms). 20   For models to be defined as ‘single godfather’, in almost all the baptisms there must be at most one godfather and one godmother; for the purpose of this analysis I have adopted a threshold of 99 per cent. Obviously, certain cases will result as ‘doubtful’, because they are very close to the threshold; the problem usually concerns the identification of ‘limited’ models. At the moment there is no way of getting round this difficulty. So, while we are waiting for further data to become available that would enable us to calculate accurately the typology, we can only appeal to historiographic common sense.

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Table 2.3 makes it clear how each type of model derives from a combination of three variables. The types are as follows: • Type 1 (pure multi-godfather): the emblematic case of the custom of giving

•

•

•

•

•

children many spiritual kin, male or female, with no significant limit to the maximum number of spiritual kin allowed. In Italy it was very common; it is to be found, for example, in Ivrea, Bellano and Santorso. There is evidence that it was also to be found elsewhere, in France and, probably, in Spain and Germany. Type 2 (asymmetric multi-godfather): like type 1 it foresees the presence of numerous godfathers with no clear limit in number, but where godmothers were frequently absent, as in Turin and Florence. In type 2 another case could be included, for the moment merely theoretical as it has never been certified, of a model characterized by many godmothers but no godfathers. Type 3 (limited multi-godfather): similar to type 1, but with a limit to the maximum number of godfathers and godmothers allowed. Like type 1 it was very common in Italy; it is to be found in Azeglio, Finale Ligure, Gambellara and Mirandola. Probably it is the model that prevailed in vast areas of France and Northern Europe, as one of its special cases is the ‘ternary’ model (two godfathers and one godmother or vice versa depending on whether the infant baptized was male or female). Type 4 (limited asymmetric multi-godfather) is similar to type 2, but there is a limit to the maximum number of godfathers or godmothers allowed. It is documented at Voghera, Verona, Vicenza, Treviso and Manduria. As for type 2, I am not aware of any case where there are no godfathers rather than no godmothers. Type 5 (pure single godfather): this is the type I have called the ‘couple model’. Prior to the Council of Trent it was rare, both in Italy and in Europe. It is traceable in Porrentruy (in the Jura, between France and Switzerland) and, perhaps, at Brive (in France); in Italy, as will be seen, I found it only in some communities in the area around Modena. However, after the Council of Trent, the couple model was to become the godparenthood model in Catholic Europe, despite the fact that the Council’s orders clearly were in favour of type 2 model. I will return to this later. Type 6 (asymmetric single godfather): includes models that envisage the presence of only one godfather or only one godmother per baptism. It has been certified only in the hills around Salerno, where it was customary for there to be no godfathers. Contrary to what we might expect, the multigodfather asymmetric models (types 2 and 4) do not become, after the Council, type 6, but rather the couple model (type 5), thus losing their asymmetrical character.

44

Fig. 2.1

Fathers and Godfathers

The distribution of models of godparenthood prior to the Council of Trent

In the case of Italy, and in particular in the north of the peninsula, sufficient data are available for me to give an idea of the way customs were scattered throughout the area. As well as information about the eight communities I have already mentioned and what can be deduced from historiography, I can make use of the initial results of an enquiry, still being carried out, on samples of baptisms celebrated in the three years 1555–1557 or in

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the years immediately before or after them, in parishes with very early registers of baptism. There are altogether 27 additional cases.21 The distribution of the six models is shown in Figure 2.1. For central southern Italy, the set of the places where it is possible to identify the godparenthood model still has too many gaps for any views to be expressed. As far as the north of Italy is concerned, there are sufficient cases which, while they do not perhaps allow us to come to any definite conclusions, at least allow some general observations and enable us to formulate some hypotheses that further research will be able to verify. An elucidation is essential. The perspective that I have adopted is the ‘geography of practices’, directly influenced by Jean Yver’s pioneering work Essai de geographie coutumière (1966), which was continued by Emanuel Le Roy Ladurie, Joseph Goy and their associates (Le Roy Ladurie 1972; Goy 1988, 1997). It is a line of research that up to the present has not had much following in Italy, even though it is close to ethnography. In France, beginning with Yver, research into the geography of customs concentrated on the systems of succession prior to the introduction of the Civil Code. The results obtained contain useful lessons for the geography of practices in general, whatever their subject matter may be. Faced with an initial impression of having identified areas linked by the same customs, whose existence could be explained by ethno-cultural factors and legal traditions with roots going back to the great migration of peoples in the years following the fall of the Western Empire,22 later research has evidenced a multiplicity of legal situations with a wide variety

21

  My research would not have been possible without the generous help of parish priests and their helpers who responded to my requests to copy and send me the data which I required. The parishes that so far have co-operated are S. Giacomo of Baresi, SS. Gervasio and Protasio of Spirano, S. Zenone of Osio di Sopra, S. Martino of Adrara, S. Grata of Borgo Canale di Bergamo, the parish of the Natività di Maria of Bondeno, SS. Giacomo and Filippo of Finale Emilia, the parish of the Beata Virgine di Casinalbo, S. Orsola of Campogalliano, S. Giovanni Battista of Compiano, SS. Giacomo and Filippo of Finale Emilia, the parish of the Natività di Maria of Rivalta, S. Donnino of Massenzatico, S. Giuseppe of Grosio, S. Pietro of Savigliano. Data from six other localities in Romagna can be added to the above parishes (in Ravenna, Cesena, Cesenantico, Bulgaria, Montereale, San Vittore), which I personally collected, such as those of the communities of Santorso in Veneto, of Romano, Strambino and Chivasso in Piedmont and of Nonantola in Emilia. As regards Gemona del Friuli, I have had to use much older data (referring to the years 1380–1382) contained in one of the first registers of baptisms to be preserved (unfortunately it was interrupted in 1404), published by De Vitt (2000). 22   Yver claimed that he identified three different hereditary systems, with geographical boundaries (the western, southern and Orleans-Parisian models), respectively characterized by egalitarian succession, inegalitarian succession and a mixed system with essentially an egalitarian tendency, but with the possibility that some potential heirs were to be excluded, usually daughters.

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of practices, which make it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to draw up a ‘map’.23 It is sufficient to look at Figure 2.1 to realize that similar risks are innate also in the ‘geography of godparenthood’. The godparenthood models, in fact, are not distributed on the ground in such a way as to be able to draw homogenous areas; neither is it possible to come to simple conclusions, not even taking into consideration different groups of practices (the colours of the figures on the map indicate the number of godfathers and godmothers; the shape of the figure shows whether or not godmothers were present). It seems that complexity is a constant feature of the distribution of customs. All the ‘easy’ or simplistic hypotheses have to be rejected. In Table 2.4 I have recorded the typology of models, case by case, grouping communities by region and by diocese. To simplify it, I have used the present administrative regions, in order to give an idea of the presence of different models in the same circumscribed areas. Examining the distribution of the models in the four regions with the highest number of cases (Piedmont, Lombardy, Emilia Romagna, Veneto), it is easy to realize that such a large area contained a very considerable variety of practices. Even in Emilia Romagna, the region where there was most uniformity in godparenthood practices, there is evidence of the extreme cases of type 1 models (pure multi-godfather) and type 5 (the couple model), although Compiano, the only case of type 1, is situated in the Apennines, while all those that adopted the couple model are to be found on the plain. This is an important factor to which I will refer later. It would be reasonable to claim that the present administrative regions are not the most suitable for studying a historical phenomenon. Even more pertinent is the fact that not even the state boundaries of the time, nor those of the dioceses, delimited areas with homogenous customs. Take, for example, the Duchy of Savoy. Within its boundaries we can find two models of type 1 (Ivrea and Chivasso), one of type 2 (Turin), four of type 3 (Romano and Strambino, neighbouring communities which are indicated by one point in Figure 2.1, Azeglio and Savigliano). The two other large states in northern Italy, the Duchy of Milan and the Republic of Venice, also cover a wide variety of practices.

23   Attempts to draw up maps can be seen in Goy (1988). Research has demonstrated that, if we go into detail, very few localities really correspond to the ideal types described by Yver. Besides, Goy and his assistants have discovered that the Civil Code did not have a real standardizing effect either. Apart from the principles that inspired it (clearly favourable to equalitarian succession), for the whole of the nineteenth century, on account of the norms it contained, the latitude permitted meant that practices endured which, by their nature and their distribution on the territory, exactly match those recorded before 1789 (Lamaison 1988).

Table 2.4

Models of godparenthood by community and region

Locality Hills of Salernitano Compiano Mirandola Massenzatico Campogalliano Cesenatico Bulgaria Montereale S. Vittore Cesena Ravenna Nonantola Bondeno Casinalbo Rivalta

Region/diocese Campania/Salerno Emilia Romagna/ Piacenza Emilia Romagna/Carpi Emilia Romagna/Reggio Emilia Emilia Romagna/ Modena Emilia Romagna/Cesena Emilia Romagna/Cesena Emilia Romagna/Cesena Emilia Romagna/Cesena Emilia Romagna/Cesena Emilia Romagna/ Ravenna Emilia Romagna/ Modena Emilia Romagna/Ferrara Emilia Romagna/ Modena Emilia Romagna/Reggio Emilia

Model 6

Locality Ivrea Chivasso

Region/diocese Piedmont/Ivrea Piedmont/Ivrea

Model 1 1

1

Turin

Piedmont/Turin

2

3

Azeglio

Piedmont/Ivrea

3

3

Romano

Piedmont/Ivrea

3

3

Strambino

Piedmont/Ivrea

3

3 3 3 3 3

Savigliano

Piedmont/Turin

3

Manduria

Puglia/Oria

4

Florence

Tuscany/Florence

2

Rovereto

Trentino-AltoAdige/Trent

3

5

Santorso

Veneto/Vicenza

1

5

Gambellara

Veneto/Vicenza

3

3 3 5

Locality

Region/diocese Emilia Romagna/ Modena

Model

Locality

Region/diocese

Model

5

Verona

Veneto/Verona

4

Gemona

Friuli/Udine¹

3

Vicenza Treviso

Veneto/Vicenza Veneto/Treviso

4 4

Finale Ligure

Ligury/Savona

3

Bellano Grosio Borgo Canale di Bergamo Baresi Voghera Spirano Osio di Sopra Adrara S. Martino

Lombardy/Milan Lombardy/Como

1 1

Lombardy/Bergamo

2

Lombardy/Bergamo Lombardy/Tortona Lombardy/Bergamo Lombardy/Bergamo Lombardy/Bergamo

3 4 4 4 4

Finale Emilia

¹ Gemona belonged to the patriarchate of Aquileia up to its dissolution in 1420; it then became part of the diocese of Udine.

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If we take a closer look, rather than at the state boundaries, which in time were subject to change, clearly it was the diocesan boundaries that over a long period might have influenced customs. In fact, not only were these boundaries more stable, but in the field of godparenthood the church authorities had every right to intervene, or at least try to do so. The bishops could, in time, have perhaps helped to define a local model of godparenthood, or could, anyway, have discouraged the fragmentation and variety of practices. This is a role they could have played in the context of interaction between local customs, based on history and culture, and diocesan regulations, which themselves acted as intermediaries of the Roman rules. It is, however, easy to see that not even the dioceses can automatically be considered as an area with homogenous customs, but rather the opposite. There is the case of Ivrea. Out of the five communities whose model of godparenthood I am familiar with, two correspond to type 1 (Ivrea and Chivasso) and three to type 3 (Azeglio, Romano and Strambino). In the diocese of Bergamo, on the other hand, out of the five communities taken into consideration, one belonged to type 2 (Borgo Canale di Bergamo), one to type 3 (Baresi), and three to type 4 (Spirano, Osio di sopra, Adrara S. Martino). In the case of a third diocese, that of Modena, a far more uniform situation is to be found, as the only models we have evidence of are types 3 and 5 (limited multi-godfather and the couple model). Moreover, this is the only area where there is a real problem with ‘borderline’ in attributing a type to each local model. In other words, the differences are extremely limited between these particular type 3 and 5 models, while generally they are sufficiently clear not to create difficulties (this is true also for the five cases of type 3 traced to Romagna). Can intervention on the part of local diocesan authorities account for the uniformity of customs in the Modena area? As there is no documentary evidence providing confirmation, the answer must be no, not only because a similar intervention might never have taken place, but also on account of the long list of the Church’s failures; its attempts to regulate godparenthood show that the norms designed to modify these particular customs were rarely applied. The ability of the pre-Tridentine bishops to intervene in the communities of their dioceses, especially the most remote, should not be overestimated; when pastoral visitations became compulsory, obliging them to pay a visit to these communities, they made unexpected discoveries, also, as we will see, on the question of the local practices of godparenthood. We could presume that in the area of Modena and the nearby dioceses of Emilia local church authorities intervened because we can see that the practices of godparenthood are more moderate than elsewhere. However,

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this kind of logic is marred by a kind of ‘evolutionist prejudice’ that leads us to believe that the Tridentine reform might, or indeed must, have had some precedents, in this case some early ‘couple models’, imposed by local bishops. If we take into consideration the opinions expressed on the question in Trent, a ‘reformer’ might have had a completely different opinion, as Luther certainly did. The couple model (type 5) did not correspond to the one desired by the Council, which was type 6 (only one godfather or one godmother). It is preferable, then, just to take as fact the comparative uniformity of the godparent models of Central Emilia. The presence of these ‘examples of moderation’ in such an important area of northern Italy, at the heart of a network of vital routes of communication (most of all, the Via Emilia), leads us to put forward some interesting hypotheses on the spread of these practices, where I feel we should proceed one step at a time. It is clear that the political and administrative boundaries, including those of the dioceses, do not seem to have played a major role in influencing the way the customs of godparenthood were distributed. However, on the basis of Figure 2.1, northern Italy seems to have been divided into two zones that easily cross the boundaries mentioned. The first is an Alpine and pre-Alpine belt that extended into the Apennines, where all the type 1 models identified so far were located. This surrounds the area of the Po Valley, where there was a limit to the numbers of spiritual kin allowed at baptism. Within this central area, then, the rules of moderation seem to have been stricter as they get closer and closer to the centre, which I will hypothetically place round the city of Modena, as I do not know the practices adopted by nearby important cities and especially those of the extremely important town of Bologna. The theory that the ‘moderate’ customs of godparenthood came to light in this area and then spread to others nearby is attractive, especially if we consider that when the Council of Trent was holding lengthy discussions on godparenthood in the year 1547, the Council was not meeting at Trent, but, and maybe not by chance, at Bologna. The surroundings, and the large numbers of spokesmen from the local clergy, could perhaps have contributed to generating a climate in favour of the adoption of restrictive measures. The idea of the ‘diffusion’ of customs has to be assumed with great caution. It is certainly true that among local practices there is a kind of ‘contagion’ over the years. However, the complexity of the map shown in Figure 2.1 clearly shows that if there was a diffusion of customs, it was not linear, and not only because practices travel with people and tend to prefer the winding routes of communication. It is probable, therefore, that there were more centres from which different customs spread out, as there were

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communities or areas more or less willing to be influenced; this spread was not even, but left behind it little pockets where different customs came into contact and mixed with practices from other hubs and, in the end, generated an irregular, complex and apparently fragmented picture. Finally, we need to remember that the very existence of different local customs implies that someone, at an unknown time, made innovations to the practices in force at that moment. On this score, I should point out that, in general, while retracing the birth of godparenthood models is certainly interesting, it goes beyond my immediate objectives.24 It is worth underlining, once again, that the tendency of the customs of godparenthood to spread is no more than a theory. Besides, even if the customs spread, at the present state of our knowledge we do not have the means to distinguish between who was influenced and who were the influencers. I have already hinted at the theory that practices similar to those enforced by events, if not desired by the Council of Trent, had begun to spread, starting from Central Emilia, even by the beginning of the sixteenth century. It is possible and perhaps equally probable that the opposite is true, that the ‘multi-godfather’ practices of the Alpine and pre-Alpine communities moved towards the plain; that is, naturally, if the situation was dynamic and not static. In other words, it is feasible that each community had always (and certainly from a time that precedes our chance to study it) adhered to its own godparenthood model, perhaps viewing it as a distinctive feature when compared to other models (it is worth remembering that, at that time, ‘foreigners’ might be those who only lived at a distance of a few kilometres). Up to now I have concentrated on the practices that led either to a limitation or to an increase in the number of godfathers, leaving aside those that allowed or did not allow the choice of godmothers. If we look at the spread of types 2 and 4 models, it would seem that the custom of excluding women from ‘active’ spiritual kinship was distributed in a different way from the rules of moderation. Except for the case of Florence, these models were to be found in a zone that, starting from Turin 24

  Following the establishment in time of a local model of godparenthood, starting from a common hypothetical situation (only one godparent of the same sex as the child, the model which appears to have predominated up until the eighth century), it would certainly be extremely useful to understand why on the eve of the Tridentine regulations different localities followed such different practices. Following this path, it would be possible to identify the existence of a link between the adoption of a given model and the characteristics of each locality, making it possible to work out an interpretation of the ‘map of the customs of godparenthood’ which could better explain its complexity. I must say, however, that having made an attempt at reconstructing an evolutionary path, I realize just how complicated this is, partly on account of a dearth of necessary sources, and partly due to the lack of information they can supply.

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and continuing across Lombardy, passed through Veneto, at least as far as Treviso. To the north and to the south of this belt custom established both godfathers and godmothers. In this case, more than for the rules of moderation, it would be necessary to have more information available in order to discover if we really are dealing with practices confined to the area indicated, or if this is merely a false impression. To conclude, we have to admit that for the moment the geography of godparenthood customs remains a complicated and fascinating puzzle that makes future research advisable. The information I have collected, however, is sufficient to give an overall picture of the situation the Council of Trent had to deal with: a wide variety of local practices that gave rise to various difficulties on ethical, pastoral, administrative and diplomatic levels. However, before looking in more detail at the debate and decisions of the Council, we must try to find an answer to the question of what was a spiritual kinship relationship. What was it used for, what kind of behaviour did it entail, who could have used it and how?

CHAPTER 3

Godparenthood, Literature and Family Records; from Perception to Interpretation Research on godparenthood carried out in the past 50 years in the field of anthropology has highlighted its importance in the social and economic life of numerous communities scattered throughout the world. Studies have also shown the variety of ‘functions’ that it can or could accomplish. Eugene A. Hammel (1968) for example, while studying the case of populations in the Balkans in the 1960s and in preceding decades, noted that depending on time and place, they resorted to godparenthood to establish and strengthen relations of solidarity between peers, to show respect towards a godfather of a higher rank than their own (and sometimes to become his ‘clients’), to integrate and finalize marriage alliances, to overcome disputes and bring an end to blood feuds, and so on. This variety of uses was in spite of the fact that formally the social institution involved was always the same. When we look at past centuries our ability to observe is limited by the impossibility of directly questioning the protagonists, as anthropologists do. Finding coeval witnesses of godparenthood is by no means an easy matter. In fact, while the historical analysis of sources such as baptismal registers and notary deeds enables us to build up a picture, however incomplete, of the way in which spiritual kinship conditioned the social and economic life of a community, these sources do not, however, say much about the perception that the protagonists had of these links. Actually, it is the very perception of the existence of a link that enabled it to be exploited in a particular way (perhaps within the limits of what was ‘socially acceptable’, the dimensions of which will be specified later). In the centuries immediately before the Council of Trent, what kind of link was it? How did the ‘compari’ regard each other? Fortunately, books on baptisms and legal documents are not the only sources to contain information on godparenthood. There are others, which in an indirect and sometimes a distorted way let the compari speak about themselves, namely family records and literary texts. Their usefulness is not limited to the ‘perception’ of godparenthood but, as will be seen, they enable us to investigate other aspects. More specifically, these sources refer to local models of godparenthood that are potentially quite different but will be used here in an attempt to generalize; this, therefore, presents

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Fathers and Godfathers

difficulties of a logical nature. It is possible, however, to object that the gaps in our knowledge force us to follow this route and that what we are looking for, the way ‘comparatico’ was perceived and its possible uses (not necessarily substantiated always and everywhere), is tendentiously at a higher level than local models indicate. In other words, very different models of godparenthood, for example with regard to the number of godfathers and godmothers allowed, can have in common a very similar perception of comparatico. The family records, or memorials, contain a record of events that concerned a particular family, usually noted down by the head of the family and often continued by the heirs. In this way, the family records are one of the tools used to reinforce the identity of the family and to transmit it to future generations. They are complex sources with a wealth of subtleties, and for many years they have been at the centre of the attention of historians. Usually they promptly report the celebration of the baptism of newborn infants, as well as the godfathers and godmothers present. Normally the information about godparenthood that we can deduce is limited to this list, useful, as has been seen, to formulate theories on the model prevailing in the area, but not enough to give a clear idea of the essence of the comparatico relationship that was established. Fortunately, however, in some cases more information is available. From the family records of fourteenth-to-sixteenth-century Florentine families it emerges that the spiritual kin tended to be chosen from outside the ‘natural’ kinship. To understand how important this is we need to make a brief digression. In the literature on godparenthood, and not merely in works of anthropology, a ‘dichotomous approach’ has been extremely influential; its origin is to be found in a work of Paul (1942). It is an extremely simple and certainly an effective way of cataloguing the customs in use in different communities, making use of a conceptual scheme constructed on a number of variables compared two by two: extension/intensification of natural kinship, vertical/horizontal character of comparatico relations, and so on. Once compared with historical data, as will be seen, this conceptual scheme proves to be too simplistic and unable to explain adequately a complex situation, at least if it is to be intended as a means of organizing and comparing systems of practices. It is, though, undeniable that this ‘dichotomous tradition’ has focused attention on significant variables. With regard to the ‘extension/intensification’ dichotomy, it is necessary to distinguish between communities where spiritual kinship was used to consolidate and intensify the natural kinship, and communities where,    See the volumes in the series I libri di famiglia in Italia, edited by Angelo Cicchetti and Raul Mordenti (1985, 1997).

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instead, it was extended. In this case, the tendency was to avoid choosing relatives as children’s godfathers and godmothers, preferring to establish new relationships with people with whom there had been no previous connection. In Florence, then, they inclined towards the ‘extension’ of kinship, excluding their own family from godparenthood. According to Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, at the time this situation was common also in large parts of France, England and Germany. A significant exception was the Strozzi family, which in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries chose most of its godparents from among its relatives. According to Klapisch-Zuber this behaviour is to be accounted for by their need to re-establish links with relatives from whom they had long been separated; the Strozzis, in fact, had been exiled and only in 1466 had returned to Florence. This abnormal case only strengthens the conclusions that can be drawn from ‘normal’ cases; comparatico was not so much part of the ‘great game’ of kinship, as part of other forms of sociability such as friendship. As far as friendship is concerned, it is to be noted that the term ‘compare’ is often used in the sense of ‘close friend’, even if there is no spiritual relationship. Benvenuto Cellini, for example wrote ‘[my friend Bachiacca] called me sotto voce compare (which we called each other in fun), and he asked me …’. The comparatico of baptism is certainly, however, the model that allows for the figurative use of the term. Secondly, comparatico fulfils a twofold role in the establishment of friendship. In certain cases the friendship is pre-existent and a decision to become compari is based on a desire to turn what was above all an informal relationship into an ‘official’ one. In others, it is the comparatico itself that creates a relationship where there was none, and fosters a friendship through the close acquaintance that it entails. Another unusual case throws light on this first aspect. It can be reconstructed from the letters of Ser Lapo Mazzei to his close friend Francesco di Marco Datini, the famous merchant of Prato. Although he was aware that it was the custom to look for rich and powerful godfathers for one’s own children (Mazzei’s resources and rank were relatively modest, while Datini was one of the wealthiest men of his time), as well as to seal friendship with the comparatico, nonetheless Lapo for a long while resisted Francesco’s wish to become godfather to one of his children. In fact, Lapo 

  Klapisch-Zuber 1985b. Here Klapisch-Zuber is my source for the data concerning the Florentine family records.    Although gradually disappearing, this meaning of the word compare is still found in some parts of Italy.    Cellini, Vita, 1,33.

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thought that people who were of humble origin and lacking in wealth should be chosen as godfathers, adopting the principle of Christian charity that, in a different era, would induce Montaigne’s and Montesquieu’s parents to give their sons a poor man as godfather. It was only several years later, succumbing to Francesco’s continual pressure, that Lapo finally agreed. However, he felt obliged to point out that in a sincere friendship it was not necessary for him to add the relationship of comparatico (Origo 1979, pp. 177–178) and he made a condition: Francesco should abstain from making baptismal gifts and should attend the ceremony ‘as a poor pilgrim’. Many centuries later the lack of a plan in the selection of godparents still seemed eccentric, at least in Tuscany. So, in Pisa in 1792 Lussorio Bracci Cambini wrote in his book that as godfather to his son Giovanni he had chosen the first person to turn up at the scene, ‘not wanting to have a noble compare to escape duty and etiquette’ (Bizzocchi 2001, p. 120), although he was well aware that he was infringing precise social norms. The second aspect (the use of godparenthood to create a friendship ex novo) is often found in the literature of the late Middle Ages and the Early Modern Era. This is also because the acquaintanceship that was established between the compari was used by many writers as a means of introducing the indelicate subject of spiritual incest between a compare and his comare (usually the wife of the other compare). I will come back to this shortly. The family records also contain some indications on the difficult subject of the relationship between godfathers and godchildren. Generally, it seems that the ties of godfatherhood were not really deeply felt; far more important was the relationship of comparatico. However, there are cases where these sources testify to the intervention of a godfather in crucial moments in the life of his godson. Klapisch-Zuber (1985b, p. 60) gives the example of a notary who in 1444 supported the admission to a profession of his godson, actually the son of one of his colleagues. In the Brive in France, in November 1562, Rigal Malliard asked the court chancellor, Pierre Fontanel, to be godfather to his son. A few months later, Fontanel agreed to take as an apprentice another of Malliard’s sons, a boy of 13, with whom he had no spiritual relationship. We do not know, though, if the apprenticeship was agreed to before Fontanel and Malliard became spiritual kin (Cassan 1996, p. XXXIV). This example, in particular, indicates that what sometimes might seem an interest shown by the godfather in his godson is often nothing more than an episode in the periodical exchange of favours and courtesy between compari.    The godfathers of Montaigne and Montesquieu are recurrent examples in the literature on godparenthood. See, among others, Pitt-Rivers 1995.

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A more tangible sign of a godfather’s interest in the fortunes of his godson could be the custom of small legacies left to the latter. While similar customs have been found in some areas of Europe (Rubellin 1997), they were not common everywhere, not in Florence, nor in Ivrea, where I have been able to examine some wills personally. In Barcelona, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, spiritual kinship played an important part in connection with wills, as the compari were often witnesses and executors of a will. If we look at the way godparenthood is depicted in Italian literary sources, we must begin with that celebrated writer of novellas, Boccaccio. In the Decameron a whole story is built round the relationship of comparatico, or rather around its abuse. Rinaldo, a handsome young man from a good family, falls in love with his neighbour Agnesa, unfortunately already married. Rinaldo, ‘… thinking that if he could contrive to speak with the lady without exciting suspicion, he would obtain what he desired, and finding no other opportunity, and the lady being with child, he resolved to become her compare’. So he agrees with the husband of his beloved to stand godfather for the infant, well aware that as there was a relationship of comparatico, he would be free to associate with the comare. Agnesa, however, hearing the declaration of Rinaldo, whom she likes, resists. Disappointed, the young man becomes a friar and for a certain time puts other frivolities and his love for the comare to one side, later going back to his old habits. Once again he takes to visiting his neighbour and insistently tries to convince her to give in to his advances. Agnesa objects that, as they are compari, ‘it would be a terrible sin’. Rinaldo, however, manages to convince her, adducing some bizarre logic. Having broken down her initial resistance ‘they began, under cover of the comparatico,

   Amelang 1998, pp. 88 ff. Similar behaviour is recorded also in northern Italy in the fifteenth century (Klapisch-Zuber 1985b, p. 60).    Decamerone, III, 7. The novella is told on the seventh day by Ellissa; on the same day, and referring explicitly to Ellissa, Dionèo also tells a story (X,7) in which there is a case of comparatico being infringed. 

  Decamerone, III, 7, 4.   ‘The lady, laughing on one side of her mouth, and looking demure on the other, said, “How can I do such a thing? You are my compare, and therefore it would be a terrible sin, otherwise I am sure I would be willing to oblige you.” “You would be a goose if you do not oblige me because of this,” said the friar. “I do not deny that it is a sort of sin, but God pardons greater ones on repentance. Tell me, pray, which of the two is more nearly related to your son, I who held him at the font, or your husband who begot him?” –“My husband, of course.” “Very well,” says the friar, “and does not your husband lie with you?” “Yes, indeed,” answered the woman. “Then by consequence you may lie with me who am not so nearly related to your son as he.”’ Decamerone, III 7, 16.21. 

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because they were under less suspicion, and they had many opportunities to be together’.10 The novella shows clearly how the comparatico could create intimacy where there was none. In particular, the ‘cover of the comparatico’ permitted relationships that otherwise would have been suspect, such as that between a man and a woman. In the above passage, the farce arises from an unscrupulous violation of an established social norm. The use of the comparatico to facilitate an approach to married women was, at least up until the Early Modern Era, a real literary commonplace. In Nicolò Machiavelli’s famous comedy, La Mandragola, it is Lucrezia, the married woman seduced by Callimaco, who suggests to her naive husband, Messer Nicia, ‘would that (Callimaco) be our compare’,11 so that she can meet her lover at her ease in her own home.12 In one of the novellas of the fifteenth-century storywriter Bandello, the problem is caused not by adultery but by the jealous husband’s suspicions, faced with the ‘normal’ intimacy that he discovers between his wife and her compare, whose son the woman had held at the baptismal font before she married. ‘On account of this, the man from Bergamo became extremely jealous and did not want Zanina any longer to call him compare, nor speak to him and thus desired that the holy comparatico should be sundered’.13 The behaviour of the husband causes a breach in a social norm, and indirectly provides a kind of list of the two ‘public’ aspects of the comparatico relationship: ‘calling each other compare’ and ‘speaking to each other’. Anthropologists have often observed the existence of social norms that make it necessary to emphasize the existence of spiritual kin by addressing the compari with particular formulas, thus increasing the public perception of the relationship between them. This has been observed in areas and in periods close to our own.14 Going back to spiritual incest, traces are to be found in several of Pietro Aretino’s works. On the third day of the Dialogo, it is ‘the comare’ who holds forth, and remarks explicitly: ‘Good work is that of the procuress who, making everybody her compare and comare, everybody her godson

10

  Decamerone, III 7,22.   Machiavelli, La Mandragola, VI. 12   In La Mandragola it is not entirely clear if what is intended is a real proposal of godfatherhood (as I believe) or if the term ‘compare’ is used in the sense of a ‘close friend’. 13   Bandello, Novelle, 1, 34. 14   See for example the customs described by Julian Pitt-Rivers for Andalusia (1976a, pp. 112–114) or by Berardino Palumbo for the village of San Marco dei Cavoti (1991, pp. 122–125). 11

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and godfather, pokes herself into every opening.’15 In Il Marescalco, Ambrogio observes: ‘Will I then be wiser than many masters [that] make their lovers brothers and compari?’16 It is perhaps possible to interpret the recurrent cases of spiritual incest in literature as a sign that they were really quite frequent in Europe, at least up to the early sixteenth century. In the Decameron, Tingoccio, on his return from the next world to tell his friend Meuccio how sins are punished after death, is questioned on the effects of an infringement of the rules of the comparatico so passionate as to be the cause of his death. He relates then that, overwhelmed by desperation, he confided in a more expert soul that ‘the sin was such, that I lay with my comare and lay so long that I was flayed’. His interlocutor, making fun of his fears, replies, ‘Come off it, imbecile, have no doubt, on this side we pay no attention to comari!’ leaving Tingoccio to surmise that it was common practice.17 Furthermore, it is certain that the dimension of the problem caused considerable concern within the Council of Trent. The climate had changed and the Council wished to avert scandals caused by the discovery of prohibited relations, in order to avoid supplying ammunition to Protestant preachers. Leaving spiritual incest to one side, the comparatico relationship implies an obligation to respect and not to harm one another. Whoever violates this duty of respect and of friendship is a ‘false’ compare. Thus, in a fourteenth-century novella by Franco Sacchetti, a poor mother rails against her compare, Friar Stefano, who taking advantage of her trust abused her adolescent daughter: ‘“Be off with you, false compare, that for the passion of God we will no longer have anything to do with you,” and he never again entered her house.’18 Once the comparatico has been violated, the breach cannot be healed: how can one who has trampled the holiest of bonds still be trusted? In Aretino’s La Cortigiana, Aloigia makes a list of the sins committed by her ‘teacher’ (who on the morrow is to be burnt at the stake as a witch), among which is the following: ‘She bewitched her compare, to please a friend.’19 While in the works of Aretino, the relationship of comparatico is often an object of derision, the author’s tone changes completely when he himself 15

  Aretino, Dialogo nel quale la Nanna inesgna a la Pippa …, III.   Aretino, Il Marescalco, V. 17   Decamerone, X, 7. Two centuries after Boccaccio, Bandello returned to the same subject, making an explicit reference to his predecessor’s novella: ‘In that day, Vittore had a son by his wife and for comare chose [his lover] Filippa, never desisting, whenever he could, from lying with her, believing perhaps that it was true what Tingoccio said to Meuccio when he appeared to him in a dream.’ Bandello, Novelle, III, 20. 18   Sacchetti, Il Trecentonovelle, CXI. 19   Aretino, La Cortigiana, II, 6. 16

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is involved. In a letter he writes: ‘You make [a request] that I baptize your daughter … I accept the comparatico so that it is between us an enduring sign of good will.’20 I remarked at the beginning of this chapter that godparenthood also offered the opportunity of healing social estrangements. Cellini’s behaviour can be interpreted in this light. Having quarrelled with his teacher, Firenzuola, he later held his son at the font; the comparatico restored peace between the two of them.21 The examples mentioned up to now emphasize the ‘horizontal’ dimension of godparenthood, that is, the relationship between peers (between ‘friends’), compared to the ‘vertical’ one, between people of very different social rank, where often the relationship is one of patronage. According to many anthropologists, whether one or the other prevails depends on the place in which it is observed.22 As will be seen, my research suggests that in sixteenth-century Italy a more complex situation was common; despite this, the ‘vertical dimension’ is certainly one of the directions that godparenthood can take.23 For example, patronage can be surmised for the baptism of John, son of the Byzantine historian Georgios Sphrantzes, baptized on 1 May 1439 by the protector of his father, Constantine Paleologus (from 1449 to 1453 as Constantine XI, the last Emperor of the East) who had already presided at Sphrantzes’s wedding, and who, two years later, was godfather to his daughter, Tamara.24 To cite an Italian case, it suffices to recall the baptism of Alfonso, the eldest son of Filippo Strozzi, whose godfather was Alfonso of Aragon, Duke of Calabria and son of King Ferdinand, who, being unable personally to take part in the ceremony, was represented by Lorenzo de Medici. As a sign of homage to his godfather, his godson was given his name, even though this blatantly contravened the onomastic rules in force in Florence (Klapisch-Zuber 1985b, pp. 57–58). Generally speaking, literary sources clearly stress the significance of the comparatico relationship over that of godfatherhood. Giovanni Fiorentino is an exception. He was probably a fifteenth-century writer; his collection of stories, Il Pecorone, was, though, printed for the first time in 1558. In a novella that inspired Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, the 20

  Aretino, Lettere, V, I 293.   Cellini, Vita, I, 14. 22   Mintz and Wolf (1950) were the first to introduce the horizontal/vertical dichotomy into anthropological analysis. 23   Pierre Chaunu (1975) interpreted godparenthood uniquely as a relationship of social patronage, completely leaving its horizontal dimension. I feel that this interpretation is definitely to be rejected. See on this issue John Bossy’s observations (1979). 24   Sphrantzes, Memorie. 21

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young Florentine, Giannetto, when orphaned, is taken into the house of his godfather, the Venetian merchant, Ansaldo. The godfather has such a high regard for his godson that he equips a splendid ship for him, which ventures on the high seas. Giannetto, however, naively loses his ship in the port of Belmonte, surrendering to the flattery of a wicked widow. Ansaldo entrusts him with a second ship, with the same result, and in order to supply him with a third asks for a loan from a money lender, who as a guarantee demands the right, if the money is not paid back, to take a pound of his flesh.25 In the story Ansaldo, as godfather, makes up for the loss of Giannetto’s parents with affection of an intensity that was rare at a time when godparents seemed to take little interest in their godchildren. It is clear from the examples given here that godparenthood was an extremely complex social relationship and any attempt to simplify it or to give it too clear cut an interpretation obscures far more than it manages to clarify. Godparenthood is a flexible institution that, according to the place and the time, can change its ‘function’, but even more, under the same circumstances of time and place, when necessary it can serve unusual purposes; so any effort at micro-investigation is faced with a bewildering range of different kinds of behaviour. However, an overall interpretation of godparenthood as a social institution is possible, but it would be premature to make any suggestions before analysing the transformations brought about by the Council of Trent, which provide elements of key importance. It is, though, opportune to clarify at once some further aspects. What has been observed up to now should adequately show the significance of godparenthood relations in the social life of many, if not all, European communities in the Early Modern Age. However, it remains to be seen if it is right to put forward the theory that the importance of godparenthood extended beyond the social environment and also played a part in organizing economic activity ­– thus questioning whether the ‘social’ and ‘economic’ sphere are really separable. In fact, with regards to the relationship between the economy and society during the ancien régime, Karl Polanyi’s (1944) is still one of the most influential theoretical models. It is sufficient to recall it with the famous formula: within the populations of the old regime, the economy is immersed, ‘embedded’ in society. The economic processes of production, distribution and allocation, which constitute essential activities of any society, take place from time to time in different institutional frameworks, with different laws, regulations, motivations, meanings etc. It is reasonable to expect that a social institution as important as godparenthood should count in transactions and ‘economic’ relations in 25

  Giovanni Fiorentino, Il Pecorone, IV, 1.

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general. Obviously, the problem cannot be dealt with merely on the basis of baptismal registers; it is necessary to cross-check the data with other information obtained from sources that take into account the economic dimension of the life of the community (property tax registers, notary deeds etc.). Later I will use this procedure to examine the case of Ivrea. For the moment I will limit myself to giving an idea of the way in which godparenthood relations might influence, and be influenced by, economic activity, taking two examples from anthropological studies: Neckarhausen (Germany) and Karpathos (Greece). Even though these examples might lack geographical and chronological coherence with my research and with sources used previously, I wish only to give an idea of the potentiality of a social custom, and not, or at least not yet, to describe the way in which they appeared in sixteenth-century Italy.26 The extensive study carried out by David Sabean (1984, 1990, 1998) on the village of Neckarhausen in Württemberg between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is one of the most successful attempts at investigating a godparenthood model operating in a community of the ancien régime. Sabean is aware of the difficulty of observing what, concretely, a godparenthood relationship implied: what did the godparents do for their godchildren; how did they behave towards the compari? Consequently he looks for traces of the importance of the relationship at a fundamental moment of economic life: the transfer of real estate. A premise is absolutely necessary. The Neckarhausen model of godparenthood has a unique characteristic, one that distinguishes it from the cases considered up to now. There was a particularly close bond between the family of the baptized infant and the godfather. Rather than extending the spiritual kinship network as much as possible, the inhabitants of the village used to choose one person who acted as godfather to all their children.27 This resulted in a relationship that was continually being renewed and was certainly much felt. It is surprising how frequently Sabean discovered a link between the parties through a relationship of spiritual kinship. Rather than being ‘direct’, however, this link passed through a third person who acted as a go-between. Two kinds of relations recur: the members of a nuclear family

26

  For the same reasons, readers should not be surprised if I resort to cases concerning denominations other than the Roman Catholic Church (Protestant for Neckarhausen, Orthodox for Karpathos). During this study I will have the opportunity to come back on various occasions to the differentiation between the forms of godparenthood in different denominations, mostly originating in the Reformation and in the later Council of Trent. 27   This was a tradition found elsewhere, for example in certain areas of the Balkans (Hammel 1968), or, to remain in Protestant Germany, in the city of Oettingen (Rajkay and Reinhard 1989).

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were spiritual kin both of the buyer and the seller; the parents of the buyer or the seller were spiritual kin of their counterpart. If we restrict our analysis to cases where there were no lasting or established relations between the parties, nor a close blood or affinity relationship – that is, to the cases in which buyer and seller were not connected by relationships other than that of spiritual kinship, but perhaps contracted through a go-between – the frequency of the sale and exchange of real estate apparently mediated by godparenthood is surprisingly high: 56.3 per cent of the sales and 76.9 per cent of the exchanges in 1700–1708; 79.2 per cent and 72.7 per cent respectively in 1740–1749, and 52 per cent and 60.5 per cent in 1780–1789. Sabean is not able to specify how the godfathers’ and comparis’ role as ‘mediators’ manifested itself. Some features are, though, recognizable; principally where spiritual kin did not directly profit from the transaction, in the sense that they did not use their position to obtain access to the land. According to Sabean, they acted rather as ‘estate agents’ and perhaps, as they enjoyed the trust of both parties, what they did as intermediaries was crucial in a situation where fixing a price and the guarantee of payment could present a problem (here the point is not exchange on the market). It is likely that mediation of this kind did not exhaust all the ‘functions’ of seventeenth-century godparenthood in Neckarhausen. Although Sabean resorted to the most sophisticated means at the disposal of historical anthropology, he ran into difficulty when trying to identify what exactly was the role of godparenthood in economic activity. The second case that I propose will be useful to clarify the problems of observation encountered by those who have to employ historical sources. During the second half of the twentieth century, Bertrand Vernier was able to examine closely the model of godparenthood operative on the Greek island of Karpathos.28 At least until the mid twentieth century, the population of the island was split by a radical social division, that between farmers and shepherds. The two groups had contrasting interests because one possessed almost all the land (concentrated in the hands of the class of landed peasants, the canacares), while the other required open spaces for grazing its flocks. Disputes were frequently caused by the damage done by sheep and goats. Generally, no marriages took place between the peasants, in particular those of middling rank and the canacares, and the shepherds. However, the peasants systematically acted as godfathers to the shepherds’ children and vice versa. On the island it was customary for the aspiring godfather to offer himself for the role, as it was considered inappropriate for the parent 28   Vernier has progressively expanded his research on Karpathos, giving an account in books and articles (Vernier 1984, 1991, 1999).

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to make the request: it was as if they were admitting that nobody wanted the honour. Besides, those who did not dare to refuse such a proposal would find themselves bound to a system of periodical gifts. As well as the baptismal gift, among the families there was an obligation to give presents at the time of religious festivals, which culminated at Easter. A woman from the farmer’s family would take a large loaf decorated with an egg to the shepherd’s family. The following day, the gift was returned in the form of one or more sheep, cheeses, cream, milk. The circle was closed for the time being with a new offer, by the peasant’s family, of the food that they had at their disposal, such as vegetables from the garden, flour, baked food and honey. This complicated system exclusively concerned spiritual kinship between the two groups. In cases of comparatico between peasants, or between shepherds, gifts were restricted to items of little value, in a far less formal context. This system, in fact, was a form of economic exchange in kind that satisfied an important part of the need of each of the two groups to procure goods almost exclusively produced by the other. The complementarity of the peasants’ and the shepherds’ products was such that some form of barter was necessary and inevitable. It fails to explain, however, why these exchanges took place under the cover of spiritual kinship, in the form of gifts and counter-gifts. According to Vernier, ‘the advantage of a system of kinship over that of pure barter was that it created a link between peasants and shepherds greater than that created by the complementarity of their products, and thus was a better guarantor of their economic interests’ (Vernier 1984, p. 63). Over and above the need to procure certain goods, the shepherds hoped to obtain permission from their peasant compari to graze their flocks on the peasants’ fields once crops had been harvested, as well as help when quarrels broke out with other peasants on account of damage caused by their flocks, something usually severely punished. Similarly, the peasants hoped that the compari would keep their flocks at a distance from the fields when crops were ripening, as well as keeping control over the flocks of the other shepherds and providing support when disputes arose with the latter. If we look purely at the economic value of the goods exchanged in the gift system between compari, it would seem that the peasants gained much more than they gave. However, together with the goods there was also the circulation of symbolic capital, given the social distance that separated the two groups. This factor clearly emerged on certain occasions, for example at dances and meetings where the godfather was expected to sing some mandinades (a kind of serenade) to his goddaughter; if he was of a sufficiently high rank (a canacares, for example) the girl’s chances of making a good match increased. The circulation of symbolic capital alongside

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goods meant that, even though the exchange might seem unbalanced from an economic point of view, it appeared fair. If we take into consideration the godparenthood model in use on Karpathos, the potential usefulness of spiritual kinship in finding ongoing solutions to problems of an economic nature is evident, above all when ‘normal’ commerce is made difficult by the existence of contrasting interests, social differences and so on. However, godparenthood on the island makes it possible also to highlight a crucial difficulty that is encountered when attempting to investigate the ‘effective’ significance of a relationship of spiritual kinship in the Early Modern Age, for the following reason: it is questionable how much of the system of circulation of goods and symbolic capital encountered on the island required the services of a notary – probably almost none. Since in the Modern Era, notary documents are the principal source at the historian’s disposal to reconstruct economic activity, we are faced with a serious problem. So the available sources say almost nothing; but luckily, however little they say, something is transmitted. Though rare, there are references to the relationship of spiritual kinship, and it is necessary to work on them. This could be the tip of the iceberg, and the most substantial part of the economic function of godparenthood could lie in virtually imperceptible aspects of social life. Despite little interest in the problem up to now, it is hoped that things will improve in the future and that the accumulation of knowledge, for the moment extremely limited, will make it possible to overcome the analytic limits with which we are faced today.

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CHAPTER 4

Godparenthood in the Sixteenth Century: from the Reformation to the Council of Trent The day on which Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses on the door of All Saints’ Church in Wittenberg, 31 October 1517, is the conventional date for the beginning of the Protestant Reformation, which in a short space of time led to the clash between the Church of Rome and the newly established Reformed Churches. Actually, for some time Western Christendom had been in turmoil: personalities of the calibre of Erasmus of Rotterdam had tenaciously been trying to reform the Church from within, both its doctrines and the practices of the time; and it was not only a question of contesting vices and corruption in the Roman Curia, but also protesting against popular customs (the sale of indulgences would not have caused so much scandal if there had not been so many buyers). At the beginning of the sixteenth century, in the case of godparenthood and spiritual kinship, the confusion that reigned in the rules as well as in the practices jarred the sensibility of many. Generally speaking, there was almost unanimous agreement among both Catholics and Protestants that godparenthood no longer corresponded to its religious and pedagogical functions. Besides, the extension of marriage bans and the large number of godparents taking part in baptisms give the impression that, at least in small communities, spiritual incest was quite a common occurrence, and the scandals that occasionally broke out probably only reflected a small number of cases. In Luther’s doctrine, baptism, considered to be the only ‘true’ sacrament besides the Eucharist, is of vital importance. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that he intervened also on the question of godparenthood and spiritual kinship, making his views abundantly clear with his usual forthright dynamism (the italics are the author’s): That nonsense about conpaternities, conmaternities, confraternities, consororities and confilieties must therefore be altogether abolished, when a marriage has been contracted. What was it but the superstition of men that invented those spiritual relationships? If one may not marry the person one has baptized or stood sponsor for, what right has any Christian to marry any other

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Christian? Is the relationship that grows out of the external rite, or the sign, or the sacraments more intimate than that which grows out of the blessing of the sacrament itself? Is not a Christian man brother to a Christian woman, and is not she his sister? Is not a baptized man the spiritual brother of a baptized woman? How foolish we are! If a man instruct his wife in the Gospel and in faith in Christ, and thus become truly her father in Christ, would it not be right for her to remain his wife? Would not Paul have had the right to marry a maiden out of the Corinthian congregation, of whom he boasts that he has begotten them all in Christ? See, thus has Christian liberty been suppressed through the blindness of human superstition.

What mainly concerned Luther was the excessive number of matrimonial bans; he declared they were one of the ways the church used (by the sale of dispensations) to scrape money together. Even if we put to one side the question of bans attributable to blood kinship and affinity, in any case judged to be used too extensively, the reformer’s hostility towards spiritual kinship is evident. Because he finds no reference to it in the Scriptures, unless spiritual brotherhood is conceived so broadly as altogether to impede marriage between Christians, the solution proposed is radical: abolish it completely, because it is absurd and the fruit of human superstition. However, it was never Luther’s intention to eliminate the presence of godparents at baptism. He believed that it was their duty to fulfil an important role in the religious education of their godchildren, especially in cases where the children’s parents had died, or were incapable of imparting the necessary religious instruction. Even though the existence 

  From ‘Prelude by Martin Luther on the Babylonian Captivity of the Church’, translated by Albert T. W. Steinhaeuser; English text edited and modernized by Robert E. Smith.    The elimination of spiritual kinship by the Reformation can be seen also in the light of a radical transformation of the significance of the ceremony, analysed by Edward Muir. Most of the reformers, Calvin and Zwingli for example, held that the sacraments were solely a sign of the promise made by God to Man, and therefore had no material effect; in Muir’s words, the divine was no longer present in the sacraments, but was represented (Muir 2000, pp. 204 ff). During the Eucharist the consecrated host was not actually transferred into the body of Christ, or there was no transubstantiation; it is possible to maintain that, in the same way, during baptism nothing happened to establish new relations of kinship. However, not all the reformers agreed with this interpretation. Luther, for example, while rejecting the doctrine of transubstantiation, proposed that of consubstantiation, whereby the host is not transformed into the body of Christ but bread and body coexist in the consecrated host, as Man and God coexisted in Jesus. I think then that the reason for the choice of abolishing spiritual kinship is to be sought above all in the absence of scriptural grounds, already noted by Luther. This does not mean that the transformation of the significance of the ritual did not perhaps contribute to creating, in the whole context of the Reformation, an environment that particularly favoured such a step.    The Lutheran position is clearly expressed in the Ordinances of the Church of Brandenburg/Nuremberg, mostly attributable to Andreas Osiander, an early follower of Luther (reported in Fisher 1970, pp. 26–27). Luther’s views on the question of godparenthood

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of godparents at the baptismal font had no scriptural or apostolic grounds, godparenthood was considered to be pious and useful, and was therefore to be maintained. Seeing a need to reform godparenthood, Luther chose to concentrate on the aspect of spiritual kinship, but he was not concerned about the number of godparents. In fact, once spiritual kinship was eliminated, they were considered to be mere witnesses, at most with the addition of the moral duty to watch over the education of their godchildren (but there is no reason to believe that Protestant godparents were more zealous in their task than their Catholic counterparts). As the concept of spiritual incest had disappeared, the number of godparents was no longer a major problem. Despite Luther’s inflexible position, Reformed churches, at least at the outset, were divided on the question of marriage impediments for spiritual kinship. For example, the Protestant community of Strasbourg in its ordinances of 1560 maintained them, while they were totally rejected by French Protestants (Fine 1994, pp. 23–24). On the whole, though, it is clear that Reformed churches were inclined to abolish them. The Church of England followed the Lutheran stance, keeping godparenthood in its traditional form but eliminating spiritual kinship and the matrimonial bans it entailed. The 1661 Book of Common Prayer tried to contain the number of godparents allowed, in accordance with the ternary model, but later it became customary to attenuate this rule according to circumstances (Bailey 1951, pp. 101–106; Coster 2002, pp. 86–91). Calvin, though, on this, as on other issues, proved to be more radical. He was of the opinion that it should be the parents who presented their children at baptism, as at the baptism of children in the Early Church, a view which was held also by some English puritans. Even though Calvin, unlike Luther, did not attribute much importance to godparenthood, baptismal rites in Calvinist churches kept their godparents. Their role, however, was re-dimensioned, as now they shared the task of presenting children at the baptismal font with the natural parents and the congregation. In the literature on godparenthood, it is commonly held that in the end Calvin’s preaching emptied it of all meaning, as the role of parenthood carried out by the godparents was assimilated by the natural parents. The

were also summarized and systematized at the beginning of the seventeenth century by the theologian Johannes Gerhard (1582–1637). See Lynch 1986, pp. 22–23.   On the position of various Protestant churches on the question of baptism, see Hillebrandt 1996 and Amann et al. 1932.    Two godfathers and a godmother for boys, vice versa for girls.

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sponsores survived only because Calvin was in favour of infant rather than adult baptism. Recent research, however, has shown that Calvinist communities often adopted customs of godparenthood very different from those that we might expect on the basis of their theological beliefs. It seems that their godparenthood and comparatico relationships maintained an important social role, evidently still connected to the ‘traditional’ role they had had prior to the Reformation. I will come back to this later. In the complex world of the Reformation, only the Anabaptists and the sects that rejected infant baptism totally abolished godparenthood. The real ‘victim’ of the Reformation was, therefore, spiritual kinship and only that, as in many Protestant areas it is still customary to give children numerous godparents. Godparenthood, then, is one of the issues that created a real split between the Council of Trent (1545–1563) and the Protestant world. The Council was a fundamental turning point in the long history of godparenthood. In fact, the post-Tridentine Church not only found itself in a position where it could at last aspire to imposing its own view of godparenthood on populations that had, up to then, put up an effective resistance, but it also changed its attitude towards some crucial ‘theological-social’ issues. These two adjectives conceal one of the most interesting aspects of the reform of godparenthood: contributions that were theologically motivated, and were, above all, an answer to controversy from the Protestant world had consequences to which the Council seems to have given little thought. In turn, these consequences had a pastoral and ritual outcome which went in a completely different direction to the one desired. Proposals for reforming godparenthood appear for the first time during the discussion on a more general reform of the sacraments, aimed at preventing the large number of abuses that occurred in their administration. 

  See, for example, Lynch 1986, p. 23.   In Geneva, at the time when Calvin was minister, the community of believers stubbornly defended their ‘right’ to godparenthood, so much so that he had to agree to keep a ‘Catholic’ tradition (with no scriptural basis), trying however to mould it to the aims of the Reformation (Spierling 2005). The importance of the relations of godfatherhood has been shown also for French Huguenots (Conner 2002) and Scottish puritans (Todd 2002). 

   In the centuries following Luther’s preaching, ecclesiastical or civil authorities in Germany made attempts to impose, with sumptuary laws, restrictions on the number of godfathers, on the number of guests attending the baptismal festivities and on the value of the baptismal gifts given by the godparents. According to contemporary witnesses, however, these laws were loosely applied, and exceptions were very common (Lynch 1986, p. 26).    For the nature of the Tridentine reform of the sacraments, see Prosperi 1997, pp. 251–266.

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The problems concerning godparenthood were systematically dealt with in 1547, during the so-called ‘Bologna period’. In his famous history of the Council, Hubert Jedin remarked that ‘a disproportionate amount of time was dedicated to the discussion on godparents of baptism and confirmation’ (Jedin 1973–1981, vol. III, p. 176). From my point of view, the attention the conciliar fathers paid to ‘details’ like godparenthood is a stroke of luck, as the minutes of the sessions in which the proposals for reforms were debated and compared enable us to obtain precious evidence on how the Church viewed extremely common practices. This attention to detail also provides crucial evidence of the importance given to the question of the number of godparents by the members of the Council themselves. The Council was inaugurated on 13 December 1545. The venue, Trent, was juridically part of the Empire and, as it was on the boundary, was to facilitate the access of participants of all nationalities. For years, the requests, first made by Luther and his followers and then by the Emperor, that a Council should be summoned had met the firm opposition of the Pope, motivated by the fear that Rome’s authority would be weakened by an assembly that might be difficult to govern. It was only Charles V’s military victory against France and the peace treaty signed at Crépy (1544) which made it possible to overcome the intransigence of Pope Paul III. However, the Council did not have an easy time: dissolved on more than one occasion and transferred elsewhere, it finally ended in December 1563, 18 years after it was inaugurated. After the first period at Trent (13 December 1545 to 11 March 1547), the assembly transferred to Bologna, where it remained until it was temporarily suspended.10 Despite what appeared to be a favourable setting, the mood of the Council during the Bologna period was anything but serene. The assembly had clearly become a pawn, and one of the most important, in a diplomatic game of renewed rivalry between the Pope and the Emperor (Jedin 1973– 1981, vol. III pp. 13–48). It was Paul III who called the shots in the move. He was afraid that the Council would weaken papal authority and the interests of the Roman Curia, and so the aim was completely to subordinate the assembly to the Pope, thus preventing further strengthening of Charles V, who had recently won the war against the League of Schmalkalda.11 The Emperor’s protests 10

  The Council met once more in Trent from 1 May 1551, but news of renewed hostilities between the Empire and France once again caused it to be suspended (18 April 1552). The work of the Council began again only a decade later when the conciliar fathers were convened for the third time at Trent (18 January 1562 to 4 December 1563). 11   The League of Schmalkalda was an alliance in self-defence, founded in February 1531, which united the princes and cities of that part of Germany which had adhered to the

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against the move to Bologna ‘only meant that … it remained provisional and ineffective, almost a parenthesis. However, the change then imposed on the work of the assembly was decisive in the sense that it shut the door on any real reconciliation between confessional groups in disagreement’ (Prosperi 2001, p. 43). The significance of the Bologna period of the Council has often been underestimated. It was an important time for developing new perspectives of reform that would be resumed later. The debates not only produced material that would be reused, but during the long recesses they also oriented the views of those who had taken part or who had had the chance to follow the debates.12 On 6 June 1547 the Deputation for Reform was established, made up of eight members and presided over by the Archbishop of Matera, Giovanni Michele Saraceno. Its task was to gather material to submit to the Council in the plenary session (plenum), to ensure that the work began promptly. Among the topics that the Deputation dealt with was that concerning abuses of the sacraments of baptism, confirmation and the Eucharist. On 26 July the Deputation was able to present the results of its work.13 The abuses discovered by the Deputation in the administration of the sacraments of baptism and confirmation were listed under 10 headings. Those significant here are the fourth14 – which concerns the custom of choosing unworthy characters as godparents in baptism and confirmation,

Reformation. Its aim was to oppose Charles V’s order of 1530 to return to Catholicism. 12   This is the conviction of Jedin, who dedicated to the Bologna period the whole of Book IV of his monumental history of the Council (Jedin 1973–1981). 13  On the constitution of the Deputation for Reform, see Jedin 1973–1981, vol. III, pp. 170 ff. Unlike the other commissions instituted by the Council, the Deputation did not compile a protocol of its sittings, so the available information on its activity is restricted to its results and to occasional mention of it, for example in the diary of Angelo Massarello, the Council’s secretary and apostolic protonotario. Societas Goerresiana, Concilium Tridentinum diariorum, actorum, epistularum tractatuum (CTT, vol. I, pp. 660 ff). 14   The first abuse, ‘qui communis est ad omnia sacramenta’, consisted in the fact that some priests demanded payment for celebrating baptism. The second concerned baptism celebrated outside a church building (except for two special cases: baptism when life was at risk and the baptism of kings and princes). The third concerned baptism celebrated in churches where there was no font (CTT, vol. VI, p. 302). Note that the CTT is the primary source for the treatment of discussions within the Council. It is in fact the only critical and complete edition of the acts of the Tridentine available today, to which other relevant documents have been added: diaries and letters written by the participants to the Council. The task of publishing this monumental collection was begun in 1901 by a society of German Catholics called ‘Görres Gesellschaft’ and was completed only in 1985. For a brief discussion on the sources and the ancient historiography of the Council, see Prosperi 2001.

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such as prostitutes or people who had been excommunicated15 – and above all the fifth. Within this heading the members of the Deputation for Reform held that ‘today many make use of the sacraments of baptism and of confirmation to obtain advantages, while the purpose of the sacraments is to attain divine grace’.16 Two other abuses, the sixth and the seventh respectively, derived from this: • the search for rich and powerful compadri ‘ut inde possit maiorem lucrum facere’, rather than someone suitable who would respect their duty towards the child being baptized or confirmed;17 • the presence of numerous godparents at baptism as well as at confirmation.18 The picture of the inauspicious consequences of the fifth abuse was completed by a series of very common beliefs, such as that of the power of the baptismal waters to bestow spiritual kinship between the child and his parents with people who were not present at the ceremony, a belief that would prove particularly difficult to eradicate, and was probably at the origin of a series of more or less fraudulent practices aimed at ‘compulsorily’ becoming related to the family of the baptized infant.19 Furthermore, the merry behaviour of those invited to the baptism, with the din they made, drowned out the words of the priest. The godparents themselves often took part in this commotion, using mostly verba iocosa 15

  ‘Quartus, quod in baptismo et confirmatione admittantur compatres etiam notorie infames et meretrices et similes, vel excommunicati seu a divinis interdicti, vel si sint impuberes vel religiosi, i.e. regulares aut monachi, seu non confirmati’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 302). 16   ‘Quintus, quod hodie plerique utuntur sacramento baptismi et confirmationis ad questum, cum sacramenta ordinata sint ad consequendam divinam gratiam’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 302). 17   ‘Primus, quia quilibet querit habere compatrem et divitem et potentem, ut inde possit maiorem lucrum facere, et non talem, qui idoneus sit ad servanda ea, quae promittuntur in ipso baptismo et confirmatione’ (CTT, vol. VI, pp. 302–303). 18   ‘Secundus, quod in uno et eodem baptismo quaerantur et recipiantur plures compatres; sic in confirmatione’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 303). 19   This practice included, as well as the direct contact with baptismal waters, that of touching the bonnet of the baptized, which was impregnated with the water, touching the ears of the baptized, or the washing of their nappies. From the fifteenth century onwards these activities were criticized by a large number of diocesan synods, who tried to repress them (See Corrain and Zampini 1970, pp. 121–122, 166, 168, 182–183, 352). It seems that these efforts were not always successful; some of these practices (such as that of touching the bonnet, thus becoming ‘cummere di coppula’) were still being reported in the twentieth century.

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et inhonesta and anyway not paying attention to the ceremony in which they were meant to be witnesses.20 In fact, the Deputation’s report describes a situation that substantially coincided with what has already been observed: godparenthood, instituted for precise ritual requirements, was being used by the population for completely different purposes. Besides, the ceremonies that instituted baptism, but also confirmation, tended to have an irreverent aspect: the Deputation made reference to the general rowdiness and merriment that characterized the ceremony, and the conciliar fathers in their plenary debate also condemned the festivities that followed.21 It is particularly revealing that the members of the Deputation claimed that most of the abuses arose from the desire of maiorem lucrem facere. Clearly, the godparents were chosen on account of the benefits that could be obtained. If many were chosen, it was preferable that they were rich (the Deputation suggested that baptismal gifts should be prohibited) and powerful. This is why the custom of sending the baptismal water to an aspiring godparent who did not attend the ceremony was so common. It was believed that to establish spiritual kinship it was enough to wet the hands with the baptismal water. Powerful people, especially if they resided at a distance, might not have been willing to take part in the baptismal ceremony or in the festivities that followed, but were ready to send a gift and accept this form of participation at a distance. As we will see, the Council also dealt with the problem of legates,22 who were another means of participating without actually being present. 20

  ‘Fit etiam abusus in baptismo et confirmatione, quia, dum baptismus fit vel confirmatio, plerumque fit tantus strepitus, ut vix verba sacerdotis baptizantis vel episcopi confirmantis intelligi possint. Praeterea plerunque proferuntur ab ipsis compatribus verba iocosa et inhonesta, dum attenti esse deberent ad ea, quae recitantur et pro quibis ipsimet sponsores sunt’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 303). 21   There were also scandals that had a vast echo, like the one in 1460 involving Rodrigo Borgia, the future Pope Alexander VI. He attended a baptismal party with Cardinal d’Estouteville in a garden in Siena; both were godfathers. In the letter of rebuke that Pope Pius II sent to Rodrigo we read: ‘Three days or more ago several women of Siena assembled in the gardens of Giovanni Bichi … you … with little regard for your dignity were with one of them from one to six in the afternoon, having the company of a cardinal, who, if not out of decorum befitting the apostolic seat, at least from his age should have remembered his duties. We have been told that the dancing was unseemly, no amusement of love was lacking, and you behaved like a young layman. Decency forbids us to describe what took place, things of which merely the name is unseemly to your dignity: husbands, fathers and brothers who accompanied the young women were forbidden to enter, so that you could be freer to amuse yourselves’ (Bellonci 1983 (1st edn 1939), pp. 28–29). 22   The problem arose because it was not clear, either from the practice itself, or from a theological point of view (see the observation of Filippo Archinto, Bishop of Saluzzo, expressed during the meetings of the Canonists’ Commission of 6 September; CTT, vol. I, p. 436), whether the legates, as well as the legatee, formed a bond of spiritual kinship with the

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The Deputation for Reform did not restrict itself to presenting a list of abuses, but also submitted a second list containing possible solutions (provisiones) to the problems encountered. The first measure proposed deserves mention, because it proved to be of exceptional importance for historical studies. It recommended that each priest when celebrating baptism should record in an appropriate register the names and surnames of the child baptized, of his parents and his godfathers and godmothers.23 As has been noted previously, it was a recognition of customs already widely practised in Italy. How, though, was this instruction an initial response to the abuses listed by the Deputation? The parish registers prior to the Council of Trent, when they were not established to satisfy the requests of the civic authorities, were introduced to keep control over the ties of kinship created by baptism, and in consequence to prevent cases of spiritual incest occurring. Strangely, the Deputation made no mention of this abuse, which was the source of numerous scandals and was to play a very important part in plenary discussions. This leads us to opt for the following interpretation: the register of baptisms was viewed by the Deputation not as a means of assisting the priest’s memory but rather as a means of controlling his conduct. It is not by chance that the question that frequently recurs in the first pastoral visits following the Tridentine council is: ‘Do you keep a record of baptisms?’ What is interesting here is that thanks to the register, it was possible to establish in the first place how many godparents were admitted to the baptism, as well as, though with some difficulty, whether the godparents chosen were unsuitable, being heretics, or those who had not been to confession and so on. The baptismal registers, therefore, were a kind of prerequisite for the effective application of many of the other measures proposed by the Deputation. These included: a prohibition to make gifts at baptism or confirmation; an obligation for godparents to pay attention when attending the ceremony; a warning to priests to rebuke anyone who disturbed the ceremony by gossiping about mundane affairs; an interdiction against rebaptizing those who had already been baptized because their life

godchild and his parents. It was the Deputation for Reform that demanded at the end of the list of provisiones, which I will deal with shortly, that once and for all an vera compaternitas contrahatur per procuratorem be clarified (CTT, vol. VI, p. 305). On the ‘political’ use that was made of the legates at Bologna, see Reinhardt 2000. 23   ‘… habeat penes se librum, in quo describat nomina e cognomina eorum, qui baptizantur, et parentum, et similiter eorum, qui levant baptizatos ex fonte, id est compatres’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 303).

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had been in danger. Towards the end of the list is the most important item: ‘lay people are warned to refrain from seeking out numerous compari’.24 The materials proposed by the Deputation for Reform and the measures suggested provide an interesting picture of what was happening to baptismal practices in the first half of the sixteenth century, whether despite the Church’s position or with its tacit or absent-minded approval. In addition, they already in essence contain all the problems over which the plenary sessions would be exercised. Once the Deputation for Reform had presented the results of its work, there was no immediate discussion. The material collected by the Deputation was submitted to a second commission (the Canonists’ Commission), presided over by Cardinal Giovanni Maria de Monte,25 whose duty was to examine it and elaborate canons to submit to the plenary sessions of the Council. After the plenary session had discussed the canons, the Canonists’ Commission had to formulate decrees incorporating the reforms. The Commission first dealt with the abuses concerning baptism and confirmation on 30 August, continuing the next day. It is interesting to compare the minutes of the discussion with those of the plenum, which I will examine shortly. Adopting the spirit of the Deputation for Reform, the Commission dealt with the question of the choice of godparents with a view to the benefits that could be obtained, together with the issue of numerous godparents.26 Only three fathers, of the seven present, intervened.27 All recognized that in effect it was abuses that they were dealing with. The only one to express a reasoned opinion was Egidio Falcetta, Bishop of Caorle, who pointed out that it was not a question of preventing princes and magnates from being chosen as godparents, but of forbidding baptismal gifts. Besides, as far as multiple godparents were concerned, he suggested that the constitution of Leo I should be renewed. This established that each newly born infant should have only one godfather or godmother.28 Falcetta’s opinion is interesting for two reasons. First, because the stipulation regarding powerful 24

  ‘Admoneantur etiam laici, ut abstineant a pluritate compatrum’ (CTT, vol. VI, p.

305). 25

  For the relation between the Deputation for Reform and the Canonists’ Commission, see Jedin 1973–1981, vol. III, pp. 174 ff. 26   ‘Quintus, quod compatres fiant propter lucrum, et quod plures recipiantur in compatres, quam deceat’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 415). 27   In this order: bishops Giovanni Pietro Ferretto, Egidio Falcetta and Alvaro de la Quadra. 28   ‘Non plures ad suscipiendum de baptismo infantem accedant, quam unus, sive vir sive mulier. In confirmatione quoque id ipsum fiat.’ The prescription was included in the collection Decretum Gratiani (dist. IV de consecratione) and therefore easily available to the conciliar fathers; however, for centuries it had not been enforced (Leo I was Pope from

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personages, who could not be as such excluded from godparenthood, is the first and a very early expression of uncertainty by those who wished to confront the problem of godparents chosen per lucrum, although, as will clearly emerge later on, Falcettta did not really have very clear ideas on the subject. Second, it is the first time, at least in the discussions as they have been handed down to us, that a reference is made to Leo I’s constitution, which was, from a legal point of view, the main point of reference of the ‘single godparent party’. At the end of the second meeting (on 31 August), a draft of five canons was ready. The fourth states:29 ‘To baptism and confirmation no more than one person is admitted as godparent, and whoever is admitted must not have a bad reputation, not be excommunicated, not be suspended a divinis, not be a child nor a monk.30 They should be confirmed, not be a prostitute, nor for any other reasons unsuited to maintaining the promises made at baptism.’31 No mention whatsoever is made in the text of the custom of preferring to give children rich and powerful godparents, which the Deputation for Reform considered closely linked to the problem of multiple godparents. Evidently, the objections made by Falcetta during the discussion had seemed convincing. The reduction in the number of godparents, then, was considered the best means, or the only one possible, of dealing with the selection per lucrum of spiritual kin. As I will show shortly, even the caution regarding baptismal gifts would not have an easy passage. The canon already outlined the model of godparenthood proposed by the Council: one godparent, who was not ‘unworthy’ but well suited to carrying out his role as tutor in the good Christian education of the child. 440–461). The Decretum Gratiani is published in Friedberg, Corpus Iuris Canonici, Vol. I, Officina Bernhardi Tauchnitz, Leipzig, 1923. The decree of Leo I is on p. 1394. 29   The others deal with: the obligation to administer sacraments gratis; the prohibition on celebrating baptism outside a church (apart from the exceptions already mentioned); the obligation to celebrate baptism only in churches with a baptismal font; the obligation to attend to the baptismal water and the font, so that abuses are avoided. 30   The exclusion of monks and nuns from spiritual kinship, a rule often infringed, is very old and can be explained by the fear that it would create personal links between monks and lay people that might compromise their withdrawal from the world (see Lynch 1986, pp. 149–155 and 169). The Council debated at length whether or not to allow other categories of clerics to form bonds of spiritual kinship. Previously there had been attempts to restrict them, which were regularly ignored (Guerreau-Jalabert 1995, p. 143). On access to godparenthood by members of the clergy before and after the Council, see Alfani 2004b. 31   ‘In baptismo et confirmatione non plures quam unus ad suscipiendum aliquem in filium admittantur, et qui admittitur, non sit notorie infamis vel excommunicatus vel a divinis interdictus vel impubes vel monachus vel non confirmatus vel mulier publice prostituta vel alias minus idoneus ad praestandum ea, quae in baptismo promittuntur’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 418).

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In the discussions that followed, however, the proposal was not as easily accepted as the apparent agreement of intent on the part of the members of the Deputation for Reform and the Canonists’ Commission would lead us to believe. The Canonists’ Commission met again on 2 September to discuss eventual modifications to make to the text of the canons. It was on this occasion that a split emerged on the question of the number of godparents allowed. Peter van der Vorst, in fact, observed that it was necessary to reword the canon in order to admit the custom of giving to the baptized two godfathers and a godmother, or vice versa. This was the ternary model, which, as we saw in the Chapter 2, was very common in Europe and above all in France. Perhaps the Flemish van der Vorst, Bishop of Acqui, feared that it would prove impossible to impose a different regulation in the lands under his jurisdiction, or perhaps he himself was particularly attached to these customs; the acts of the Council do not allow us to go deeper into his motivations, nor (usually) into those of other ‘dissidents’. I will restrict myself, therefore, to pointing out how, in this first attempt at resistance, the legal basis for the defence of multiple godparents was already clear: it was established practice. It is equally clear what was the main weakness of this line of defence: the variety of practices, which led van der Vorst to demand the preservation of one practice (his own? that of his bishopric?), and not to make it an issue of principle as others, more shrewdly, tried to do.32 Four days later, on 6 September, the Canonists’ Commission met for the third time and discussed the directives (admonitiones) that the Deputation for Reform had attached to the material they had collected. Without going into detail, the debate centred on whether it was right to forbid baptismal gifts and the festivities following the ceremony, without, however, reaching an agreement. The question of baptismal gifts was left in abeyance and entrusted to the plenary session; as for festivities, a compromise was suggested, which consisted of replacing the profane elements with others of a sacred nature.33 The directive concerning the reduction in the number 32   In the course of the session of 2 September, the problem of practice was reiterated also by a second canonist, although for completely different reasons. Giovanni Pietro Ferretto, Bishop of Mileto, pointed out that the custom totius ecclesiae was against one godparent, so he said he was in favour of punishing those who infringed the new rule (CTT, vol. VI, p. 422). 33   The directive, as presented in the plenary session, states: ‘Ut occasione baptismi non fiant solemnia convivia cum tripudiis et choreis, sed cum benedictionibus et gratiarum actione et laude atque gloria Dei ac Domini redemptoris nostri, qui ex sua ineffabili bonitate sacramenta largitus est hominibus in remedium humanae fragilitatis.’ It is evident that the Commission had gone up a blind alley, as the festivities following the sacrament were intrinsically an element that was profane, and it would anyway have been useless to expect

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of godparents was maintained, even though to many it seemed useless as the problem had already been mentioned in one of the canons.34 Despite discussion, four out of five of the canons that were proposed on 31 August came before the assembly virtually unchanged.35 The fathers had all received the entire list, dated 23 September, so that they could examine it before the plenary session, which occupied no less than seven days (26, 27, 28 and 30 September, 1, 3 and 5 October). During this time, each of the 56 fathers present expressed his own opinion on the canons. Consequently, we have the same number of votes either for or against, or for proposals with a compromise.36 At the opening of the session on 26 September, Giovanni Michele Saraceno, Archbishop of Matera and president of the Deputation for Reform, was asked to summarize the points under discussion. In his presentation the reduction to one in the number of spiritual kin was expressly justified with reference to the constitution of Leo I, the juridical foundation of the ‘single godparent party’. The first to speak was Antoine Le Filleul, Archbishop of Aix, who approved the fourth canon, suggesting, however, that it should be possible to ask one’s bishop for a dispensation in order to have a larger number of godparents. This is interesting because this condition was in fact accepted by the Council.37 The first voice of dissent was soon raised. Archbishop Sebastiano Lecavela, Bishop of Nasso and third to speak, observed that what was proposed concerning the number of godparents was ‘contra consuetudinem totius ecclesiae’, and this custom was ‘laudabilis’ as well as ‘neque a doctoribus damnatur’. The defence of multiple godparenthood was lively

solemn behaviour on the part of guests who had been difficult to restrain even during the baptismal service itself. On this point, the Deputation for Reform seems to have had clearer ideas. From the outset any attempt at compromise was destined to fail. 34   With regard to this canon, the directive linked the obligation to abstain from numerous godparents with the importance to attribute to the relationship of spiritual kinship (‘Ut layci admoniti, quanti momenti sit spiritualis cognatio, a pluralitate compatrum abstineant’) (CTT, vol. VI, p. 439). 35   From the text the only reference to be eliminated, as those unworthy to be godfathers or godmothers, was that to the non-confirmed and prostitutes. 36   A certain number of fathers limited themselves to expressing overall agreement with the canons proposed, without going into details (‘placent canones’, ‘probat canones’ etc). They are numbered among the supporters of one godparent. 37   Even though it is not widely known, the possibility of asking for a dispensation to have an additional godfather or godmother still exists today. However, once people became accustomed to giving up multiple godparents, requests for dispensation were extremely rare.

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and based from a legal point of view on established practice.38 Besides, Lecavela disclosed that the ‘doctores’ had never condemned these customs, which were widespread throughout Christendom.39 Faced with this kind of statement the impression is that the party in favour of multiple godparents took the proposals for reform as an insult, lacking solid theological grounds: the constitution of Leo I, the text of a law probably never enforced, must have seemed to them of little consequence in comparison with a widespread and established practice. Actually, why was the number of godparents such a crucial issue? In fact, during the preparation of the canons, most of the questions presented by the Deputation for Reform were dropped, and never reached discussion in plenary, for example the proposal directly to control selection of godparents and thus avoid choices based on the advantages that could be obtained. As I said in the Chapter 2, the area of Emilia distinguished itself on account of a godparenthood that definitely restricted the number of godfathers and godmothers present at baptism. It is possible that the ‘immersion’ of the Council in such local customs contributed to the creation of a climate unfavourable to multiple godparenthood, or, rather, favourable to an extension to the whole Church of a practice like the one in force in the land that hosted these discussions. However attractive, this explanation is certainly partial and insufficient. Another aspect to take into consideration is that a reduction in the number of godparents must have seemed a relatively easy option, so much so that it quickly became the only proposal to deal with the abuses highlighted by the Deputation. Once more, however, this does not seem enough. The discussion of the fourth canon during the plenary sessions is, in some ways, amazing: from a theological point of view, the triteness of the debate is disconcerting and, as I have just noted, the only ones from this point of view who could put forward solid arguments were those who defended multiple godparents, although, in the end they were thwarted. Generally speaking, the exchange of views had an extremely ‘practical’ flavour, as clearly emerges from the compromises that were proposed.

38

  Speaking straight after Lecavela and taking sides with those who supported multiple godfathers, Olaus Magnus, Archbishop of Uppsala, to show the illegitimacy of the proposal for one godparent refers to a ‘pontifical book’, which allowed two godparents. Identification of this source is, however, uncertain (CTT, vol. VI, p. 491). 39   Ibid. The approval expressed by the doctores for multiple godparents was usually based on a twofold reasoning. In the first place, in a case in which there is doubt whether the person is baptized or not, the more godfathers there are, the easier it is to confirm it. Secondly, the more godparents, the greater the number of people involved in the education of the children. The first argument is found, for example, in J. Beleth (see, Guerreau-Jalabert 1995, pp. 167–168).

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From a theological point of view these had strange or sometimes absurd implications. It was a practical debate for a practical purpose, and certainly not a fight against the ‘bad habit’ of trying to obtain an advantage from the baptism of one’s children. What drove most of the council fathers to support the proposal to restrict the number of godparents was the need to reduce the scandals which took place around the ‘incestus spiritualis’, in other words in the marriages between people connected by spiritual kinship. The problem of the scandals emerged on more than one occasion during the plenary discussion,40 and, as we will see, gave rise to the proposal to eliminate all interdiction on marriage for spiritual kinship. The prevention of spiritual incest in this light had to be effective, and it was the Council’s intention to remove any pretext for criticism on the part of Protestants. This is what set the tone of the discussion. Like the first defence of multiple godparents, a solution that proposed a compromise also appeared early on in the debate. The Archbishop of Armagh, Robert Vauchop, the fifth person to speak, proposed that multiple godparents should be admitted to baptism, but specified that with only one should there be a relationship of spiritual kinship.41 From a theological point of view, it is impossible to justify such a position, which, among other things, gave rise to considerable confusion.42 However, the proposal seems to have matched perfectly the very practical mood that characterized the discussion from the outset. It is definitely an unfortunate example of the use of compromise that was to surface on several occasions during the Council.43 In certain respects Vauchop’s idea recalls the decisions made by Luther completely to eliminate spiritual kinship with its related matrimonial impediments, maintaining the possibility of giving children numerous godparents, who, though, attend the baptism as mere witnesses. Vauchop proposed a curious hybrid solution that combined safeguarding the institution of spiritual kinship, as it had a history with a solid theological formulation, with transforming most of 40

  For example in the speech of the Bishop of Porto, Baldassarre Lympo (CTT, vol. VI, p. 494). 41   ‘Quartus canon: placet, ut, cum sunt plures tenentes, unus tantum compaternitatem contrahat. Alii possint assistere, sed non contrahant’ (CTT, vol. VI, p. 491). 42   With which godparent would kinship be contracted? Would the father be able to decide? Would this ‘super godfather’ have a special role in the ceremony? And so on. With regards to the first question, a possible reply emerged on 5 November, during a meeting of the Canonists’ Commission. Giovanni Battista Cicada, Bishop of Albenga, suggested that spiritual kinship should be contracted only with the oldest godparent (CTT, vol. VI, p. 573). 43   The best-known and perhaps most investigated example is the one regarding whether or not so-called ‘clandestine marriage’ was legitimate. See Jedin 1973–1981, vol. III, pp. 199–226 and vol. IV, pp. 139–174.

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the godparents into witnesses.44 Despite its intrinsic doctrinal weakness, this proposal found defenders,45 which is a further confirmation of the fact that, in the debate, considerations of a merely theological nature carried limited weight. A fresh compromise was promised on the second day of discussion. Lelio Baruffo de Piis, Bishop of Sarsina, on the whole expressing his approval of the fourth canon, proposed, however, that two godparents46 should be allowed. The proposal, unlike Vauchop’s, did not cause theological misgivings but, although it actually provided an opportunity for the defenders of multiple godparents, its practical application involved problems that were almost as serious as those created by the transition to a sole godparent.47 Anyway, there were those who supported the proposal.48 Immediately after Baruffo, Peter van der Vorst took the floor. He reiterated the opinion he had already expressed as member of the Deputation for Reform: it was necessary to safeguard a particular practice, which was to give two godfathers and a godmother to boys and two godmothers and a godfather to girls. On the same day, 27 September, the most radical of the proposals for reform of godparenthood was put forward. Baldassarre Lympo, Bishop of Porto, not only said he was in favour of one godparent, but proposed also a drastic reduction in the extension of spiritual kinship: it was to be maintained only between the baptized and the person baptizing, and between the person confirmed and he who confirmed. Lympo explained 44   Note that the distinction between ‘godparents’ and ‘witnesses’ is only partially recognized by current canon law. While the presence of at least one Catholic godfather or godmother at baptism is compulsory, members of denominations other than Catholic are allowed to take part in the baptismal ceremony as simple witnesses (Code of Canon Law, canon 874). It is obvious that the purpose of this rule, which appeared for the first time in the 1983 Code of Canon Law (the result of Vatican Council II, which met in Rome from 1962 to 1965) is quite different from the one proposed by Vauchop. The 1983 Code reflects a desire to further relations between members of different denominations in an ecumenical spirit; Vauchop’s proposal was aimed at reforming godparenthood while somehow getting round the obstacle raised by local customs. 45  Namely Filippo Archinto, Bishop of Saluzzo, and Camillo Perusco, Bishop of Alatri. Perhaps to them can be added Francesco Romeo, General of the Order of Friars Preachers of St. Dominic, who having defended the legitimacy of multiple godparents, observed that it might be better to agree that among them there was one who was the principal godparent (CTT, vol. VI, p. 503). 46   CTT, vol. VI, p. 493. 47   Baruffo’s proposal is very close to what was to be the final decision of the Council, with the difference that no distinction was made between godfather and godmother, and so it would have been possible to choose two godfathers, two godmothers or one of each. 48   Bernardo Bongioanni, Bishop of Camerino.

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clearly that he made this proposal in order to prevent scandal, and expressed the opinion that many other bans on marriage should also be eliminated.49 His proposal had a large following,50 which was moreover bipartisan if compared to the split over the question of one godparent. The Bishop of Saluzzo, Filippo Archinto, in particular, took it up again on 28 September to formulate, as an alternative to Vauchop’s proposal, a third type of compromise: multiple godparents, but with whom no relationship of spiritual kinship was established.51 The proposal is very near to a kind of ‘Lutheran’ solution, differing from it only insofar as it is not based on theological premises and because it maintained a vestige of spiritual kinship (between the person baptizing and the baptized). The proposals made during the plenary session were extremely varied. Complicating matters were the ‘hawks’; three of them were members of the Deputation for Reform (Olaus Magnus, Peter van der Vorst52 and Filippo Archinto), who had indicated as an abuse the large number of godparents, and a fourth was a member of the Canonists’ Commission (Egidio Falcetta), who had included this measure in the fourth canon. However, when they intervened in the plenary session, they sided in defence of multiple godparents.53 Table 4.1 lists the names, the office and the ‘country of origin’ of those who dissented with the proposal to reduce the number of godparents to one.

49

  CTT, vol. VI, p. 494.   Filippo Archinto (Bishop of Saluzzo), Cornelio Musso (Bishop of Bitonto), Alvaro de la Quadra (Bishop of Venosa), Francesco Gagliani (Bishop of Pistoia), Jacques Spitame (Bishop of Nevers), Roberto Senali (Bishop of Avranches). 51   CTT, vol. VI, p. 496. This proposal also had its supporters: Cornelio Musso (Bishop of Bitonto), Francesco Gagliani (Bishop of Pistoia) and as an alternative to maintaining multiple godparents, Egidio Falcetta (Bishop of Caorle). With regard to Musso, there remains an element of doubt because his speech was rather obscure (CTT, vol. VI, p. 497). 52   Van der Vorst had already espressed his opinion against only one godparent, but it was not reflected in the canon put forward to the plenum. 53   The Deputation for Reform did not record minutes of its meetings, so it is impossible to ascertain whether there was debate on the subject. With regard to Egidio Falcetta, I have already noted that he was the only one to split the unity of the Canonists’ Commission in the struggle against the choice of godfathers per lucrum. During those meetings, however, he did not make further objections to the reduction in the number of godfathers to one. 50

Table 4.1 Opinions against a sole godparent Against reduction in the number of godparents Name Office Claude de la Guische ep. Mirapicensis (Mirepoix) Gregorio Castagnola ep. Mylensis (Melos), ord. Praedicatorum Sebastiano Lecavela archiep. Naxiensis (Naxos), ord. Praedicatorum Richard Pate ep. Vigorniensis (Worcester) Francisco Romeo Generalis ord. Praedicatorum Gianbattista Campeggio ep. Maioricensis (Maiorca) Egidio Falcetta* ep. Caprulanus (Caorle) Giovanni Battista Cicada ep. Albinganensis (Albenga), auditor camerae apostolicae Giovanni Giacomo Barba ep. Aprutinus (Teramo), ord. Heremit. Bernardo Bongioanni* ep. Camerinensis (Camerino) Ambrogio Catarino ep. Minoriensis (Minori) Olaus Magnus archiep. Upsalensis (Uppsala)

Country France France Greece England Italy (Arezzo) Italy (Bologna) Italy (Cingoli) Italy (Genua) Italy (Naples) Italy (Rome) Italy (Siena) Sweden

Willing to reach a compromise Multiple godparents, but spiritual kinship established with only one of them Name Office Filippo Archinto* ep. Salutiarum (Saluzzo), vicarius S. mi D. N. in Urbe Camillo Perusco ep. Alatrinus (Alatri), rector studii romani Robert Vauchop archiep. Armarcanus (Armagh)

Country Italy (Milan) Italy (Rome) Scotland

Restriction in the number of godparents to two

Name Lelio Baruffo de Piis Bernardo Bongioanni*

Office ep. Sarsinatensis (Sarsina) ep. Camerinensis (Camerino)

Country Italy (Bertinoro) Italy (Rome)

Preservation of a specific custom: two godfathers and one godmother for boys, vice versa for girls Name Office Peter van der Vorst ep. Aquensis (Acqui)

Country Flanders

Multiple godparents, without matrimonial impediments Name Office Egidio Falcetta* ep. Caprulanus (Caorle) Francesco Gagliani ep. Pistoriensis (Pistoia) Filippo Archinto* ep. Salutiarum (Saluzzo), vicario S. mi D. N. in Urbe Cornelio Musso ep. Bituntinus (Bitonto), ord. Min. Convent.

Country Italy (Cingoli) Italy (Florence) Italy (Milan) Italy (Piacenza)

*Willing to accept different solutions; see in table.

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Of the 56 fathers taking part in the plenary sessions, 19 (34 per cent, i.e. about one in three) were completely against the adoption of a sole godparent. Of these, 12 wanted to leave things as they were, that is maintaining local customs; three proposed that spiritual kinship was established only with one of the many godparents present; two suggested restricting the number of godparents admitted to two; one asked to preserve exclusively the practice of two godfathers and one godmother (or vice versa); and four said they were willing to cancel matrimonial impediments almost completely, thus solving the problem of incestus spiritualis without reducing the number of godparents. The sum of the votes exceeds 19 because three of the fathers were ready to accept two different solutions. The origin of those who defended multiple godparents is very varied. Two-thirds were Italian, but at that time so were most of the participants in the Council. They came from all parts of the peninsula, a confirmation that the practice of giving children numerous godparents was widespread. As far as other countries are concerned, northern regions (an Englishman, a Swede, a Scot and a Fleming) and France (two) were better represented in comparison with Mediterranean Europe (only one from Greece). At the conclusion of the plenary sessions, it was once again up to the Canonists’ Commission to examine closely changes proposed to the original formulation of the canons. The fourth canon was examined on 5 November. Again there was no lack of defenders of multiple godparenthood, among whom was Cristoforo de’ Spiriti, Bishop of Cesena, who during the plenary session had not expressed any dissent; but, given the decided majority in favour of one godparent, the conclusion was reached that the canon should be kept unchanged, at least in this regard. At that time, though, the participants in the Council had other worries: the growing differences between the papacy and the Empire would shortly lead to a suspension of the meetings. The Bologna period ended without any decree on godparenthood being issued. The question was not even touched on in the next phase (1 May 1551 to 28 April 1552); it was only in the final period of the Council (18 January 1562 to 4 December 1563) that the subject of godparents was discussed once more, even though the space assigned to it was, in proportion, far less than in 1547. The documents compiled at Bologna were used again as preparatory material to further some aspects of reform. First, of interest here, was that of marriage. Trent, in fact, did not produce a real decree on the reform of the sacrament of baptism54 in the way the work planned in 1547 seemed to have promised. Instead, some of the proposals were accepted and 54   In the sense of a group of canons under the heading of reform of this sacrament, as happened, for example, in the cases of the Eucharist and marriage.

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introduced into different contexts. This is what happened to the reform of godparenthood, which found a place in the canons on marriage. As is well known, the reform of the sacrament of marriage was one of the most delicate questions that the Council had to face in its final phase, in particular with regard to the complicated matter of the validity of clandestine marriages.55 It is not relevant to go into the question here other than to note that in the plenary session of 11 August 1563,56 12 articles of reform submitted to the conciliar fathers for the first time were appended to the famous Tametsi decree,57 the contents of which had already been the object of previous discussion and revision, but on which there was still no agreement. One of these articles dealt with the problem of marriages contracted in breach of the rules of the Church, which meant either a life lived in sin or a dissolution of the union once the parties recognized their error and, consequently, a grave scandal. This was attributed to the excessive number of prohibitions; to find an answer, the suggestion was made to annul the fourth degree of consanguinity and the state of brotherand sister-in-lawhood, as well as to reduce the number of godparents allowed in baptism and confirmation and to reduce the boundaries of spiritual kinship. Little remained, therefore, of all the proposals for the reform of godparenthood. No mention was made of the instructions concerning the qualifications that godparents should possess, nor of festivities or baptismal gifts; only a reduction in the number of godparents was proposed together with the elimination of many ‘degrees’ of spiritual kinship. These were merely calculated by the number of impediments to marriage that were abolished. The ‘reform of godparenthood’ was deprived of any doctrinal autonomy. I have searched in the discussions that followed for traces of the ‘multiple godparent party’ that had so opposed reform 16 years previously. I found none, and the only faint signs of opposition concerned the reduction of the extension of spiritual kinship. The reason for it seems clear: there were so many clashes regarding the Tametsi and other aspects of the reform of marriage58 that the reduction in the number of godparents was of secondary importance; indeed, it went practically unnoticed by the conciliar fathers. We can easily affirm, then, that the reform of marriage was the Trojan

55

 On the Tridentine reform of marriage, see Zarri 1996; Lombardi 2001; Seidel Menchi and Quaglioni 2000, 2001, 2004. 56   CTT, vol. IX, pp. 685–697. 57  On Tametsi see Jedin 1973–1981, vol. IV, pp. 156 ff. 58   For an account of the conciliar discussion on Tametsi, see Lombardi 2001, pp. 109– 118; Jedin 1973–1981, vol. IV, pp. 138–200.

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horse that made it possible to overcome without a struggle the resistance to the reform of godparenthood.59 What exactly were the features of this ‘mutilated reform’ of godparenthood? Its final version reads: Experience teaches that it is often an excessive number of interdictions that out of ignorance leads to contract a marriage that is forbidden, and thus, either the couple continue in their marriage, committing a grave sin, or the marriage is dissolved, but not without a grave scandal. The Council, therefore, wishing to find a solution to this inconvenience, beginning with the impediments of spiritual kinship, decrees that only one, man or woman, according to the prescriptions of the sacred canons,60 or at the most one man and one woman can be godfather or godmother at baptism. They will contract spiritual kinship with the baptized and with his or her mother and father; so also a similar kinship will only be between the person baptizing and the baptized and the father and mother of the latter.61

In this final version the reduction in the number of godparents of baptism and confirmation62 and the restriction of the extension of spiritual kinship are the only means by which the objective of reducing marriage impediments was reached. The fourth degree of blood relationships, in fact, was maintained by the Council and would be abolished only by the 1917 Code of Canon Law. The reduction in the number of godparents, though very close to that proposed at Bologna by the ‘single godparent party’ was in a way a sort of compromise. Even though it is clearly stated that the ideal solution is to provide children with one godfather or godmother, only one godfather and one godmother at the most are allowed. As will be seen, this concession was to produce unexpected results. Going beyond the letter of the decree, in the light of the discussions that took place in 1547 and the decisions taken in 1563, it is possible 59  Other proposals concerning the project of reform of baptism were to form part of those on marriage, primarily the obligation to keep registers of baptisms and marriages. 60   The decree of Leo I. 61   ‘Docet experientia, propter multitudinem prohibitiorum multoties in casibus prohibitis ignoranter contrahi matrimonia, in quibus vel non sine magno peccato perseveratur, vel ea non sine magno scandalo dirimuntur. Volens itaque sancta synodus huic incommodo providere, et a cognationis spiritualis impedimento incipiens, statuit, ut unus tantum, sive vir sive mulier, iuxta sacrorum canonum instituta, vel ad summum unus et una baptizatum de baptismo suscipiant, inter quos ac baptizatum ipsum et illius patrem et matrem, nec non inter baptizantem et baptizatum baptizatique patrem ac matrem tantum spiritualis cognatio contrahatur’ (CTT, vol. IX, p. 969). 62   The passage on confirmation, which I have not transcribed here, is included in the same chapter as on baptism (CTT, vol. IX, p. 696).

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to discern clearly the model of godparenthood that the majority of the conciliar fathers would have liked to impose. It was made up of three elements: 1. the godfather (or godmother) had to be one; 2. he/she had to be worthy; 3. he/she had to fulfil the commitment taken at baptism and to be actively responsible for the Christian education of their godchild. The application, or rather the attempted application, of this model will be the subject of the next chapters. However, a final observation is necessary. Many have underlined the role of the Council of Trent as the architect of a discipline of social relations that was subsequently to be entrusted to other institutions (Prodi 1994; Prosperi 2001, pp. XIII–XIV). The reform of marriage is certainly one of its better known components and for many reasons it comes close to the reform of godparenthood. The fact that the second is formally included in the first is a mere juridical expedient; much more important is the fact that both tried to combat common customs (for example in the case of marriage, abduction and concubinage,63 in the case of godparenthood, the multiplication of godparents64), to standardize practices and rituals,65 to emphasize the control of the Church over every aspect of the sacraments and of the attendant ceremonies. I will come back to this. More attention has been paid to the newly imposed discipline than to another equally important aspect, the project of reshaping society. I have emphasized that at the Council the tone of the debate was eminently practical; at least as far as the theme of godparenthood was concerned, theological concerns were of limited importance. The method adopted consisted in the comparison, in the juxtaposition and in the combination of proposals of a concrete nature. I do not think it is far-fetched in this sense to speak of a kind of ‘social engineering’, as the Council was in effect planning the society of the future. Even questions traditionally considered from a doctrinal point of view to be of comparatively ‘minor’ importance might lead to rules that definitely affected the lives and society of peoples in Europe; this is certainly true of the debate on the number of godparents.

63

  Seidel Menchi and Quaglioni 2001, 2004.   Other customs condemned during the discussion but then not mentioned in the final canons of reform were prohibited locally when the Tridentine rules were applied; I will come back to this in the next chapter. 65   For marriage, see Zarri 1996, p. 460. 64

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Recognition of this project of social reshaping leads us to wonder how far the conciliar fathers were aware that they were about to modify society. In response we must look at each case separately. For example, when the reform of marriage was discussed, every possible consequence of the proposed modifications was carefully analysed. However, when dealing with the reduction in the number of godparents, it seems that the conciliar fathers had a very limited awareness of what they were about to impose on Catholic populations. What emerges from the actions of the Council is only concern whether it would be possible to apply certain rules, and whether they would effectively achieve the pre-established objectives. The possible ‘collateral effects’ on society were not taken into account: nobody bothered to note that the denigrated practice of choosing rich and powerful godparents assisted certain strata of the population in establishing relationships on which they could rely in moments of crisis (to give an extremely restricted interpretation of the complex phenomenon of godparenthood). The analogy from the point of view of discipline between the reform of godparenthood and the reform of marriage does not hold from the point of view of a project to reshape society. Although these topics require further thought and specific investigation, as far as the reform of godparenthood is concerned, we can rightly speak of a ‘blind project’. Perhaps on account of the Council’s inability to look ahead, the model of godparenthood proposed by the Church, even though imposed more efficiently than those devised in the past, was never really accepted by the people. As will be seen, the resistance that it encountered was sufficient to change it radically, in substance if not in form.

CHAPTER 5

The Application of the Decrees of the Council; Resistance and Compromise: Three Lines of Enquiry On the eve of the Council of Trent, many different models of godparenthood were widely practised in both Italy and Europe. By imposing rigid restrictions on the number of godfathers and godmothers allowed, the Council rendered most of these models illegal. As illustrated in the Chapter 1, there had already been similar attempts universally to regulate godparenthood. What was new was the ability of the post-Tridentine Church to impose its laws on populations who were stubbornly attached to their own customs and traditions. In the decades following the conclusion of the Council, at least in Italy (where the Tridentine decrees were immediately accepted by the civil authorities, who consented to their adoption in the areas under their jurisdiction), there was a movement ‘from many to one’ that went hand in hand with the almost total disappearance of local godparenthood practices, which were usually replaced by the couple model. It is obviously feasible that, while respecting the limits imposed by the laws, godparenthood practices maintained different characteristics according to the locality, just as it is possible that, alongside ‘official’ godparenthood, informal practices whose validity was not recognized by the Church were developed or reinforced. I will come back to this later. However, this generalized movement to standardize customs, and consequently to standardize society, is clearly perceptible. Quite apart from its goal, the movement itself is interesting, as the course it took locally and the procedures used to impose the Tridentine laws allow us both to evaluate the reaction of the population to enforced social change and to get a better understanding of the nature of pre-Tridentine godparenthood and the importance attributed to it. For this reason, I will analyse the overall movement and the course it took locally from three different points of view: the gradual ‘normalization’ of the practices which can be deduced from baptismal registers; the process by which the population was disciplined to respect the new laws of godparenthood, enforced by the Archbishop of Milan, Carlo Borromeo, whose achievements

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were an example and were imitated throughout Europe; the application of the Council’s reforms and the struggle of Bishops Ferdinando and Cesare Ferrero against pockets of resistance in the diocese of Ivrea, reconstructed on the basis of the records of their pastoral visitatios. From the parish registers of baptism, it is possible to follow step by step the application of the reform of godparenthood. Once appropriately recorded on a graph, the data pertaining to the number of godfathers and godmothers present at baptism allow us to highlight important aspects about the way the new laws were received. Was it immediate or gradual? And, if it was gradual, how long did it take and what kind of resistance did it encounter? First of all, it is necessary to respond to a possible objection. We could surmise that any gradual process in the application of the norms was only in terms of appearance and exclusively depended on the alternation of different priests in a given parish. They might have ensured that certain prescriptions neglected by their predecessors were respected, or they might have taken less trouble in registering baptisms, perhaps merely indicating the ‘main’ godparents. Wherever possible, I have taken note of the rotation of parish priests and have accurately identified the different compilers of the registrations. It can be clearly seen that the handing over by one priest to another does not account for the phenomenon that can be observed in the graphs, nor is it feasible to suppose that there was any systematic negligence in keeping the registers in a period when extremely frequent pastoral visits required that their existence and the way they were kept be scrutinized and careless



  For example, take the case of the parish of S. Ulderico of Ivrea, and focus on the period around the two years 1563 and 1586, which, as can be seen from Figure 5.1, can be considered to be crucial insofar as they represent the extremes of the period of adjustment to the norm. From parish sources it appears that in 1563 the registers were entrusted to Antonio Robesto, who had been responsible for them since 1558, and they remained in his care until April 1586. In the almost 20 years between the two dates, the average number of godfathers dropped from 3.19 in 1558 to 1.37 in 1587 (the last year when keeping the registers was Robesto’s exclusive responsibility). It is obvious, then, that unless we assume that negligence in the keeping of the registers increased with time (which is highly unlikely), the decline in the number of godparents mirrored a real change in practices. As far as the next period is concerned, after a very short interval when the registrations were entrusted to Michele Cherico of Lugnacco, at the end of April 1586 the task passed into the hands of Cristoforo Clerici. Actually, it is possible that, at least at that moment, handing over the job did have some effect on the registrations. This, however, cannot be attributed to a different system used by Clerici to register the data in comparison with his predecessors, but it is the final phase in the contrast between population and clergy over the number of godparents admitted. The new incumbent, faced with what was by now feeble resistance (Figure 5.1 shows this clearly) and without hopes for the future, succeeds in asserting his authority and getting the Tridentine regulations fully respected.

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priests chided. The data recorded on the graphs are to be considered basically reliable. They show that some places adjusted to the Tridentine laws over a long period of time, others extremely rapidly. Where the godparent model in force was not too far from that of the couple model (for example, in Finale Ligure and Mirandola), the change must have seemed less abrupt and probably caused fewer protests. Where many godparents took part in baptisms, the data suggest that the situation was one of bewilderment, of hostility towards the reform and of continual negotiation in order to mitigate its effects. I will begin with the cases that indicate a more dramatic response by the population, analysing the series of the average number of godfathers and godmothers per year. Ivrea (Figure 5.1) is a very good example of how often the application of the new Tridentine laws was not immediate, but took place gradually and caused confusion among people who were stubbornly attached to social practices consolidated over centuries. Between 1563 and 1586 a progressive decline in the average number of godfathers and godmothers can be seen, which for the former tends to be close to one, in the case of the latter going on average to well below that figure; in that period no godmothers are recorded in the registration of numerous baptisms. The movement of the curves allows us to assume that in Ivrea the new regulations were imposed by a kind of continual ‘negotiation’ between the clergy and the people, who found it difficult to understand the reasons for the changes and failed to accept them. Each time, the parish priest would probably reach an agreement with the parents on a limit to the total number of godfathers and godmothers. If they renounced the right to a godmother, it meant they could have a second godfather. After 1586, the date from which it is possible to presume that the population was disciplined, it seems that there was a kind of ‘rediscovery’ of godmothers, whose role acquired new significance as there was no longer the possibility of choosing a large number of godfathers.



  Among the reforms introduced at Trent, that of godparenthood was certainly not unique in taking time to be fully adopted and for a long time subject to compromise. See, for example, the case of the reform of marriage (Ferrante 1994).    Everything leads us to suppose that, before the Tridentine reforms, godmotherhood was less important than godfatherhood, later gaining prestige when the number of godfathers was limited to one. I will come back to this question in Chapter 7.

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$YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGIDWKHUV

Fig. 5.1







































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Ivrea (parish of S. Ulderico)

Azeglio, located in the countryside around Ivrea, shows that it took roughly the same time to adapt to the Tridentine laws as Ivrea, which is why I am not including its graph. The progressive reduction in the number of godfathers and godmothers seems to have come to an end towards 1583, slightly earlier than in the city. Besides, no system of exchange between godfathers and godmothers is to be found. Something similar to what happened in Ivrea is to be found in Gambellara (Figure 5.2). After temporarily accepting the Tridentine rule, from August 1564 and continuing throughout 1566, the population worked out a strategy of resistance: the average number of godfathers went back to above one, while the number of godmothers went below this. The phenomenon lasted for eight years, from 1567 to 1574. If we examine what happened in detail, we find that the total number of godparents present at baptism was never more than two; what happened is that the godmother was replaced by an additional godfather (29 cases in the period indicated, i.e. 14.4 per cent of the total number of baptisms) or, much more rarely, the opposite occurred (six cases). It is clear that, in order to behave in this way, the population of Gambellara must have had at its disposal a compliant priest or it must have possessed a means of obliging him to reach a compromise. The exchange of ‘a godmother for an extra godfather’ is so obvious here that there is little doubt that some form of negotiation actually took place concerning the way the new norm was to be applied, above all if we remember that the reaction was not immediate but was delayed for a sufficient length of time to lead people to hope that things had calmed down and that it would be possible, if not to return to the previous situation, at least to mitigate the undesired effects of the reform of godparenthood.

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The abuse, once discovered, must have been stopped, as between 1575 and 1629 I have not found any case in which there was more than one godfather.

     































$YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGIDWKHUV $YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGPRWKHUV Fig. 5.2

Gambellara (parish of S. Pietro Apostolo)

In Turin (Figure 5.3) there was also a phase of adjustment; however, it took place quite rapidly, and by 1572 the disciplinary measures were already concluded. The drastic reduction in the number of godfathers became an opportunity to ‘discover’ godmothers, who previously had appeared only at one baptism in five, but now were a constant feature. At Voghera (Figure 5.4) the immediate restriction in the number of godfathers to one is extremely abrupt: the new standard was already in force in 1565. Godmothers were a different matter. Godmothers were practically unknown in Voghera before the Council, and, as in Turin, the new legislation provided them with a role: in 1565 they already appear in almost all the registrations of baptisms. It is, though, surprising that after a trial period of only three years, godmothers disappear once more, to reappear only in 1573, after which they habitually attend baptisms. With any similar phenomenon, the immediate assumption to deal with is that the registrations were not absolutely accurate. However, the high quality of the baptismal registers of Voghera, which for many years were actually kept in two copies, leads us to reject this assumption.

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$YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGIDWKHUV $YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGPRWKHUV Fig. 5.3

Turin (parish of S. Agostino)

It is possible to suggest an alternative explanation. In the period 1565– 1567, most of the godmothers are midwives: names like Isabeta or Richeta are very common, often appearing with the word ‘coma’, an abbreviation meaning comare or midwife. In those years we find ever more frequently baptisms with two godmothers. In these cases, one of the two was always a midwife, and the registration could be something like this: compater (name of godfather) (name of godmother) coma (name of midwife). The registrars distinguished, therefore, between godfather and godmother on the one hand, and comare or midwife on the other, as if they failed to understand not so much the role of the midwife but that of the godmother. When, in 1573, godmothers reappear after an absence of five years, if they are midwives they are indicated as ‘comare’. However, their position is now clearer: they were registered only if they were godmothers, otherwise they were not mentioned. In fact, the registrations are along these lines: ‘comadre comare Isabeta’ if she was a midwife, or ‘comadre Lucia’ if not. The attendance of midwives at baptisms is not as common as before, and their number tends to diminish further in the following years. 

  For example, on 28 July 1567 we read ‘cpr. (copater) d. Bernardo Miliarde da Vuleza e dn.a Catrina Cavagna coma. Isabeta’.    When the midwife administered baptism in a hurry because there was reason to fear for the child’s life (baptismus in casu necessitatis), she became spiritual kin as she was the person who performed the rite. In the baptisms under discussion at Voghera, however, usually they were not urgent cases.

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The story of godmothers in Voghera is interesting: first, as an aid in understanding the role, always rather ambiguous, attributed to midwives at baptism; and second, because it is an indication of the state of confusion reigning in Voghera after the Council. The rapid reduction in the number of godfathers abruptly destroyed an important system of relationships, and attempts to remedy the situation with the ‘invention’ of the godmother seem uncertain and unconvincing – so much so that at a certain moment they are abandoned. The impression is one of a society in search of a new order, but one that does not yet know which direction to follow.

      





























$YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGIDWKHUV $YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGPRWKHUV Fig. 5.4

Voghera (parish of S. Lorenzo)

At Bellano (Figure 5.5), where it was customary to give children numerous godfathers and godmothers, restrictions took place at the same time and at the same pace on both sides of spiritual kinship, and in 1565 the new legislation was fully implemented. Given the difference between the model of godparenthood in Bellano (type I, pure multi-godfathers) and the couple model, such a sudden change might cause surprise, as it was implemented before the end of July 1564. As will be seen, this chronology coincides with that of the promulgation and application of the new legislation within the diocese of Milan, of which Bellano is part. It is evident that the parish priest, Giulio Stoppa, was not only willing to apply the new rules, but effectively managed to impose innovation on his parishioners. On the    For the role of godmothers, see Marland 1993 and Wiesner 1986. On the question of the confusion between godmother and midwife, see Palumbo 1991, pp. 173–181.

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other hand, in the next chapter I will show how also at Bellano changes were not achieved without causing social tension.





























       

$YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGIDWKHUV $YHUDJH1XPEHURI*RGPRWKHUV Fig. 5.5

Bellano (parish of SS. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso)

In places such as Finale Ligure and Mirandola where, even prior to the Council, customs were practised which were not far from the couple model, the restriction in the number of godfathers and godmothers took place together and swiftly. At Finale the last cases of multi-godfathers go back to December 1564 and at Mirandola to May of the same year. Figure 5.6 shows Mirandola as an example. Study of the graphs shows that even before the seventeenth century, in most of northern Italy, if not everywhere, one model had been firmly imposed: type 5, the ‘pure single godfather’, which I have also called ‘the couple model’. It became the norm to have one godfather and one godmother for each child baptized. The expectations of the conciliar fathers, who intended to propose a sole godparent for baptism, were thus ignored. As we will see, the reform of godparenthood formulated at Trent also had other unexpected results, and in fact was a failure. The graphs enable us to discover a fundamental factor brought about by the transformations imposed by the Council: the state of bewilderment and confusion in which populations found themselves. They were used to relying on a network of privileged relationships, based on specific as well as well-tried strategies. It can clearly be seen at Ivrea and Gambellara, with

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godfathers being substituted for godmothers, and at Voghera, following the story of the discovery, rejection and rediscovery of godmothers. The graphs, however, are too arid to convey on their own the impression of the social shock experienced by many communities in Italy. It is necessary to investigate in more detail, making use of other information. This will help us to evaluate the way godparenthood linked individual members of the community prior to the Council, how the situation changed once the couple model was introduced and what strategies were used to remedy the situation. I will deal with all these issues in the next chapter.     

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Fig. 5.6



































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Mirandola (parish of S. Maria Maggiore)

It is useful, though, to make some preliminary comments. The ‘violence’ of the impact which resulted from the Tridentine legislation was not the same everywhere. Mirandola, where a model close to that of the couple model was in force, certainly found it easier to adapt than Ivrea, where the transition took 20 years of adjustments and probably of difficult compromises between the population and the local clergy. In the graphs we see evidence of a confused situation in those places where the old customs were furthest from the new ones. So, alongside the process of standardization of godparenthood practices there was, at least at that time, a process of differentiation between various localities from the point of view of the social turmoil and tensions caused by the reform. The graphs demonstrate that the rules of the Council were applied rapidly even though, sometimes, the process required a difficult period of adjustment, while in historiography it is commonly held that for a long time European populations maintained their own customs of godparenthood, despite the decisions taken at Trent.

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John Bossy, for example, claimed that ‘… godparenthood was so obviously a good thing that people felt confident in flouting, well into the seventeenth century, attempts to restrict or control it’ (Bossy 1985, p. 16). At least as far as the north of Italy was concerned, this conviction is clearly mistaken, considering that even the most obstinate localities surrendered before the 1580s. On the other hand, the rapidity of the application of the reform of godparenthood can be explained by the alacrity with which the Italian states adhered to the decisions of the Council of Trent. The application of the decisions was delayed in certain areas of Europe, such as France, due to an alliance between suspicious clergy and the local secular authorities, who had the power to prohibit the publication of the Tridentine decrees in their territory. The Council of Trent terminated on 4 December 1563. Papal approval of the decrees and conciliar canons was quick to arrive: the bull Benedictus Deus et Pater is dated 26 January 1564 and, even though it was not published until 30 May, the conciliar decrees had already been printed and distributed. On 11 March, Carlo Borromeo sent a copy to Milan, followed on 25 March by 22 copies destined first of all for the bishops of his ecclesiastical province (Rimoldi 1994, p. 64). Generally speaking, the adherence of the Italian states took place before the end of 1564, but the representatives sent to Trent by the duchies of Savoy and Tuscany and by the Republic of Venice had already consigned their allegiance, in writing, on 6 December 1563 (Michel 1932). The Italian bishops quickly convened provincial and diocesan synods to promote the application of the decisions of the Council in their own lands. In Italy, therefore, no obstacle hindered the adoption of the new norms, apart from individual communities’ unwillingness to give up their own customs. It is well known, however, that the Church itself had to make a great effort to provide itself with the necessary means of effectively imposing the application of the conciliar decrees. A key role was played by Archbishop Carlo Borromeo, who made the diocese of Milan both an area for testing the new laws and an example for other dioceses. If we follow his achievements through the 11 diocesan synods and the six provincial councils, all occasions for verifying the necessarily gradual implementation of the reform, we are able to observe

   For the opposition of the Gallic Church to the conciliar decrees, which lasted until 1615, see Michel 1932, pp. 1492 ff.

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in a different light the events described in the previous pages of this chapter. At Trent it was established that every year bishops had to celebrate diocesan synods, renewing an obligation ratified by the Lateran Council of 1215. During the first synod to be celebrated after the Council, everyone would be required to accept publicly what had been established at Trent, promise and profess obedience to the Pope and condemn all heresies (Rimoldi 1994, pp. 66–67). Carlo Borromeo would have liked to dedicate himself at once to the preparation of the synod, but Pius IV refused to give him permission to leave Rome, where the archbishop was in his service as cardinal nepote (‘nephew cardinal’). The task of presiding over the synod had to be entrusted to others: as his vicar general Borromeo designated a priest from Verona, Nicolò Ormaneto, who fixed the opening for 6 August 1564. From the point of view of the rules governing baptism, the First Provincial Council is the moment when their application actually commenced. The Council opened on 15 October of the following year and was personally presided over by Borromeo: ‘The Constitutions and the Decrees of this Council which embrace all aspects of Church life were the necessary reference for synodal legislation in all the dioceses of the Lombardy province.’10 Furthermore, 6,000 copies of the statutes of the Council were distributed throughout Europe, which was one of the main factors that contributed to making Carlo Borromeo’s achievement an example to be followed.11    I will deal with synods and councils in chronological order, to highlight how synods were often an opportunity to elaborate directives that a later council proposed should be implemented over a larger area.    For many years it had been customary for each new pope to call to Rome friends, and above all, relations, to whom important posts would be assigned. It was a way of securing the help of trusty collaborators, and of benefiting their own family members. The numerous nephews of popes who were created cardinals by their uncles is a typical example of this kind of behaviour, from which the term ‘nepotism’ is derived. Often the right-hand man of the Pope was a cardinal nepote. For the post of Carlo Borromeo as cardinal nepote and for the events of his ‘conversion’ and his decision to dedicate himself completely to pastoral activity, see Majo 1995, pp. 316 ff. 10   Rimoldi 1994, p. 70. Even though the council terminated on 3 November 1565, the Holy See’s approval of the Constitutions and Decrees was ready only on 6 June of the following year, on account of attempts to raise obstacles by various bodies, and especially by the Senate of Milan (in the meantime Pius IV, who died on 9 December 1565, was succeeded by Pius V, and Carlo Borromeo finally left Rome and took up residence in his diocese). See Cattaneo 1964. 11   ‘Iniziazione cristiana, in AA.VV., Dizionario della Chiesa Ambrosiana, vol. III, Milan, NED, 1989, pp. 1594–1599.

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The institution of the provincial council had ancient roots, but it was centuries since one had been celebrated in Milan. The objective of the Council of Trent was that the custom should be relaunched, with the recommendation that it should take place every three years. The provincial council was to be attended by all the bishops of the relevant ‘ecclesiastical province’, that is, the territory made up of the dioceses that referred to one particular metropolitan Church, in this case Milan.12 In the Constitutions of the First Provincial Council, the regulations concerning baptism are listed under the heading Quae pertinent ad baptismi administrationem.13 Some of the principal themes of the Tridentine debates on the reform of baptism were discussed again, among them the prohibition on baptizing at home (unless the child’s life was in danger), the care to be given to baptismal fonts and the obligation to keep baptismal registers. Delays to the ceremony were also forbidden, with the ruling that it should take place within eight days of birth. As far as godparents were concerned, no reference was made to their number. Attention was paid to the criteria to adopt when they were chosen: it was preferable to select those who were able to offer spiritual advice rather than those who could give material assistance, and the parish priests were urged to be on the alert so that suitable people were selected for their faith and behaviour.14 Priests would, moreover, have to prevent the choice falling on godparents who failed to go to confession15 or who had been excommunicated. Lastly, they had to warn godparents to behave correctly during the ceremony, and to be certain that they well understood the commitments they were undertaking. In fact, if the natural parents failed in their duty, they themselves had to bring up the godchild in the Catholic faith and instil honest behaviour.16 The Council also condemned a practice that has a certain ethnological interest, and which did not emerge in Trent, perhaps because it was a local custom: children were placed on the altar, from where they were ransomed with gifts offered by their godparents. The condemnation of this abuse 12

  Borromeo kept closely to the dates established by the Tridentine Council for Provincial Councils (one every three years). The same cannot be said of his successors: after the six councils that he convened, it was only his cousin Federico who convened the seventh, while the eighth and ninth took place only in the twentieth century (Vigotti 1981). 13   Acta Ecclesiae Mediolanensis (AEM), edited by A. Ratti, Milan 1890–1892, vol. II, coll. 43–45. 14

  AEM, vol. II, coll. 43.   Since the Lateran Council of 1215, the Church had imposed the obligation of a yearly secret confession, which was a necessary condition for being able to participate in Easter communion. For further information on confession, the changes it underwent at the time of the Council of Trent and the role played by Carlo Borromeo, see Bossy 1998a, pp. 59–85. 16   AEM, vol. III, coll. 43–44. 15

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provided an opportunity to expressly forbid godfathers and godmothers from making any gift whatsoever to their godchildren or to the child’s parents at baptism. From the outset, then, energy was spent in an effort to moralize godparenthood, initiating a course of reform in several stages. On 3 July 1568 the Second Diocesan Synod was convened, celebrated from 4 to 6 August. Here two decrees, XVI and XVII,17 are of interest. The first dealt with godparents who knew nothing of the principles of faith, so it was difficult to see how they could have instructed their godchildren in matters that they themselves did not understand. The parish priests were urged to reject them; as the decree contained a list of the minimum knowledge required of the godparents,18 the priest could by means of a brief interrogation directly ascertain their lack of suitability for the role of godparent. In XVII, clerks in holy orders were forbidden to act as godfathers for baptism and confirmation. In April 1569, the Second Provincial Council was held. Decree X repeated decree XVI of the 1568 synod, forbidding godparenthood to those who knew nothing of the principles of faith.19 The Third Diocesan Synod, convened for 1571, had to be postponed until April of the following year (Rimoldi 1994, p. 75). Decrees XI and XII regulated particular cases; the main one concerned foundlings. There was a risk that the priest might mistakenly baptize a child who had already been baptized by others, something to be categorically avoided.20 The escamotage they proposed was the introduction into the ceremony of special formulas expressing doubt.21 These orders were discussed once more and additions were made at the Third Provincial Council, held in 1573, when a further step was taken in an effort to moralize the conduct of godfathers, asking them to lay down any arms they might be carrying (swords, daggers …) before the ceremony, as they should take part in the ceremony in a spirit of humility and piety.22

17

  AEM, vol. II, coll. 819–820.   ‘… fidei symbolum, orationem Dominicam, et salutationem Angelicam …’ (AEM, vol. II, coll. 819). 19   AEM, vol. II, coll. 172. 20   Baptism, as spiritual generation, is a sacrament that can be received only once in a lifetime. From the point of view of the Church, the respect due to the sacrament made it necessary to take every precaution to prevent it being incorrectly administered. 18

21   An example is ‘si tu es baptizatus, ego te iterum non baptizo, et si nondum es baptizatus, ego te baptizo’ (AEM, vol. II, coll. 850). 22   AEM, vol. II, coll. 242–244.

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The Fourth Diocesan Synod began on 16 September 1574.23 Decree VII returned to the problem of godparents with no knowledge of the principles of the faith, an abuse that was proving particularly difficult to eradicate, proof of how little it mattered to the population whether godfathers and godmothers were able to carry out the task that the Church assigned to them; obviously, other qualifications were preferred. On this occasion an explicit obligation was made for parish priests to question the candidate for godparenthood if they doubted the latter’s knowledge of the principles of the Christian faith. This synod was the last of those convened by Carlo Borromeo to implement reforms to godparenthood; however, the work continued in the provincial councils. The Fourth Provincial Council (1576) paid considerable attention to baptism, concentrating on some cases that here are only marginally significant: the requirements for baptismal fonts (described meticulously) and the principles to be followed in their correct upkeep. As for the godparents, the parish priests were invited to check their knowledge of the basic principles of religion, something already stipulated in the Fourth Diocesan Synod.24 The Fifth Provincial Council (1579) is more interesting, as fresh directives appear concerning the choice of godparents. Only people who are confirmed will be accepted (the parish priest should ascertain whether they are in possession of this qualification) and then only if they are over 14 years of age. Up to this time, the participation of extremely young godparents was not uncommon. Last, the priests were requested to make sure that godparents did not dress in a gaudy manner and refrained from using ornaments or other showy decoration, which would contrast with the purely spiritual nature of the ceremony.25 In May 1582, the Sixth Provincial Council was held, the last to be presided over by Carlo Borromeo.26 Here there was a request to parish priests to write the names of godfathers and godmothers in the baptismal registers so as to avoid cases of spiritual incest (a regulation already existing in the Tridentine canon that established baptismal registers; evidently irregularities in registration had been discovered). There was also a request to celebrate baptisms without pomp and to avoid parties and festivities after the ceremony.27 23

  AEM, vol. II, coll. 876.   AEM, vol. II, coll. 344–348. 25   AEM, vol. II, coll. 543–545. 26   His death, on 3 November 1584, prevented him from celebrating the Seventh Council, which he had already convened for April of the following year. This council never took place, because the new Archbishop of Milan, Gasparre Visconti, had to face the unanimous opposition of all his suffragan bishops (Rimoldi 1994, p. 80). 27   AEM, vol. II, coll. 739–740. 24

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There are two other particularly relevant aspects in Carlo Borromeo’s measures to impose and adapt Tridentine legislation, or rather the spirit of the legislation, even going beyond the letter of the canons. In the first place, there is no mention of the number of godparents. This might seem a sign of a lack of interest in the issue; but were this so, it would be difficult to comprehend the reasons for such meticulous prescriptions on the quality of godfathers if there was a willingness to tolerate flagrant violations of provisions concerning quantity. The baptismal registers of Bellano, in the diocese of Milan, indicate that the prescriptions of the Council on the number of godfathers were never taken lightly, and the reduction in the number of godparents requested is sudden. It is the parish priest of Bellano who supplies evidence that settles the matter, noting in the register of baptisms: ‘Note that in the year 1564 on 29 July the Right Reverend Monsignor Nicolò Ormaneto, Vicar of Milan, ordered that from now onwards there is to be only one compare and one comare and thus I have commenced here below from 15 September 1564.’28 After the annotation, and thus from September 1564, he ensured that the restrictions to the number of godfathers and godmothers were respected. We discover then that Nicolò Ormaneto, Vicar of Carlo Borromeo until his return from Rome, had ordered on 29 July that at the most one godfather and one godmother should be allowed, and this was before the First Provincial Council (commenced on 6 August), over which he presided. Registers of other parishes in the diocese of Milan contain even earlier annotations, going back at least to the month of May. For example, in the register of the parish of Santa Grata of Borgo Canale in Bergamo dated 1 May is annotated: ‘Here baptism is now celebrated according to the order of the holy Tridentine Council.’29 A similar annotation is to be found in the register of S. Giacomo Maggiore of Baresi, and is certainly prior to 21 May.30 The diligence of Nicolò Ormaneto in applying the reform of godparenthood on the one hand confirms the importance attributed to the innovation, and on the other proves that the prescription of the 28

  ‘Nota che l’anno 1564 adi 29 luio el r.mo mons. [reverendissimo monsignor] Nicolò Ormaneto vic.o [vicario] de mi.lo [Milano] fece ordine che per inanzi non si possi eser al battesimo si non un solo co.pe [compare] et una sola comare et cosi ho comenzato qua sotto adi 15 7.re [settembre] 1564’ (parish archive of Bellano, register of baptism of the parish of SS. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso, 1533–1639). 29   Parish archive of S. Grata di Borgo Canale in Bergamo, register of baptisms. 30  Unfortunately there is no exact date. According to the notes of the parish priest, 21 May is the date of the first registration of a baptism, while the previous registration is 6 February. The notes reproduce almost in full the conciliar decree, underlining, however, that the reduction of godparents is motivated by the aim to solve the ‘incommodus’ caused by spiritual kinship (parish archive of Baresi, register of baptisms).

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Council of Trent on the number of godparents was sufficiently clear as not to require further ‘interpretations’, nor any particular preparation of the clergy. This does not mean that a progressive adjustment to the rule was not necessary (it is enough to recall the case of Ivrea), but it was, in fact, an adjustment to the rule, and not of the rule. The most suitable place to verify its application was not the synod, but the pastoral visits, and it is well known just how important and, once more, how exemplary were Carlo Borromeo’s achievements in this field.31 I have looked for traces of any resistance on the part of the population of Bellano both in the baptismal registers and in the pastoral visits of 1573, 1579 and 1596.32 It would seem that the parish priest, Giulio Stoppa, with very rare exceptions,33 was quite capable of summarily imposing restrictions on the number of godparents. His actions could be indirectly monitored34 by inspecting baptismal registers, which in 1579 were still inspected by the delegated visitor, Luigi Sampietro, and found not to be perfectly ‘ad formam’. As already explained, the Council considered the registers a fundamental means of putting the reform of baptism into practice. Neither the registers of Baresi nor those of Borgo Canale contain appreciable signs of rebellion. The second aspect to be underlined is the gradual transposition of the ‘spirit’ of the Council’s rulings on the choice of suitable godparents into norms that could actually be applied. The gradual nature of the process is in itself a first significant feature: from a plea to prefer people who could supervise the Christian education of the child over those who could, instead, provide only material advantages, there is a move towards the need to verify their preparation in the subjects in which they should instruct their godchildren, concluding with rules on the age, and even on the dress for the ceremony (no jewellery, and absolutely no arms). I think it is possible to interpret this increasing development (the provisions of previous synods and councils remained in force, unless altered by subsequent ones) as a consequence of a difficult process of ‘training’ of stubborn populations, who for centuries had been used to following a logic in the selection of godparents which was completely different from that which the council had wished to impose on them. As will be seen, it is extremely doubtful that from the point of view of the ‘quality’ of the godparents the anticipated 31

  See Turchini 1996.   AEM, vol. III, Visitationes, coll. 1–16. 33   Between 1565 and 1600 at Bellano the conciliar rules on the number of godparents are infringed only in two cases, for which it is possible that a regular dispensation was asked (in both cases the admission of an additional godparent,, a godfather and godmother respectively). 34   In the sense that no explicit questions were put to him on the subject. 32

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results were achieved; perhaps the very persistence in the attempts at regulation was due to the growing awareness of failure. Even more interesting is the fact that an effort was made to realize fully a project of reform of godparenthood which corresponded not so much to what had been decreed by the Council of Trent, but to what I have defined as the ‘spirit’ of the reform of the sacrament, as emerges from the Council’s discussions. As will be remembered, this project has three main points: there must be one godparent; he must be worthy; he must fulfil his duty as tutor. It is only the first of these points that clearly emerges from the Tridentine decrees. Significantly, the diocesan synods and the provincial councils presided over by Carlo Borromeo concentrated on the second and the third. The Archbishop of Milan tried resolutely to persuade the population in his care to choose godparents who were capable of fulfilling their task, and in the same way he tried to persuade godparents to take an interest in the Christian education of their godchildren. On this question, however, an obstacle was soon to appear: godparents were often so ignorant of the principles of religion that it was highly unlikely that they could teach them to others. These problems repeatedly emerged in the synods and councils held between 1568 and 1576, and it is extremely improbable that, even after that date, they were solved. It must have been equally difficult to persuade godparents who had the necessary qualifications to take seriously the responsibilities they had undertaken at baptism. It is interesting to examine, with regard to this question, one of the texts prepared by Borromeo’s curia, which was widely distributed in Italy and abroad: Instructions to Confessors,35 published in 1574. These have been judged to be the fundamental part of a project aimed at ‘conquering souls’, reforming public conduct and, ultimately, transforming the whole social order (De Boer 2001). The role of the confessor is portrayed as that of a ‘spiritual father’; one could expect, therefore, that he be asked to supervise the activity of other ‘spiritual kin’ (the godfathers and godmothers of baptism) in the sense that from their confessions might emerge any shortcomings in the fulfilment of their duties. Alternatively, we could expect the question of the ‘spiritual tutorship’ of children not to be touched on at all. Neither hypothesis proves to be correct: instead, in the text the confessors are asked to counsel the children’s natural parents to supervise their correct Christian education, but no reference is made to the godparents, who were in principle the guarantors of this education. It seems to me that in this approach we can see the first signs of disillusionment with the prospect of putting a substantial reform of godparenthood into practice. As will be seen, at the time when the 35   Avvertenze di monsignore illuss. cardinale Borromeo, arcivescovo di Milano, ai confessori della città et diocese sua (AEM, vol. II, coll. 1870–1893).

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‘Instructions’ were published, the difficulty of imposing ‘good’ criteria in the selection of godparents was ever more evident. The reduction in the number of godparents had proved, if not easy, at least achievable. Parents could not hide the presence of extra godparents, and the obligation for priests to keep baptismal registers made it very risky for them to connive with stubborn communities.36 The next step, on the other hand, from control over how many were chosen to who was chosen required a much greater effort. Among other things, this fell completely to the parish priests, and it is well known that, after the Council, one of the most serious problems that the Church had to tackle was the inadequate training of priests. The foundation of diocesan seminaries was an attempt to provide this. In the post-Tridentine situation, the impossibility of being able to rely on godparents to ensure that the new generations were correctly instructed was a considerable setback in the project of reform and, above all, in the response the Church wanted to give to Protestants. It was necessary, therefore, to find a remedy; later on I will put forward some hypotheses on the kind of solution adopted.37 In the diocese of Milan, scene of the first and most resolute campaign to impose the conciliar decrees, pastoral visits witness with their silence only the immediate acknowledgement of the prescriptions concerning the number of godfathers and godmothers, confirmed by the annotations to be found in baptismal registers. The case was very different in other parts of Italy where, despite the reasonably timely intervention of bishops, parish registers as well as pastoral visits show signs of a struggle that lasted for decades. The role of the Council of Trent is well known in relaunching the custom of pastoral visits (a means adopted by the Church since the sixth century), underlining the obligation for bishops to carry them out regularly. Besides, right from the earliest years following the Council, the visits, 36   Actually, priests found themselves in a very difficult situation: they probably had to mediate between different concepts of the significance of the baptismal ceremony. On the one hand, there was the significance of the liturgy that envisaged that the ceremony in Latin (an unknown language to most of the faithful) was celebrated respecting certain rules and concluded with an official registration by the priest in the liber baptizatorum. On the other, it had a ‘popular’ significance that made the ceremony a crowded and animated socialcultural event in which all the relations, neighbours, patrons, clients etc. of the family of the infant took part. The reform of godparenthood and more generally of baptism produced a clear split between what was ‘actual’ and what was ‘legal’ (it was necessary to respect the prescriptions of canon law). This split was probably experienced by the population, unable to understand the motivation of the reform, as an imposition by the ecclesiastical powers and nothing more. 37   See Chapter 10.

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which up to then had been concerned mostly with the state of Church property and only superficially with the devotion of the people, showed a growing interest in the conduct of the laity: an unequivocal sign is the amount of space dedicated to this matter in the questionnaires (Burke 1979). This was due, on the one hand, to the need to verify empirically that the reforms introduced by the Council were really being put into practice on the ground, and on the other, to the desire to inculcate in the population morally acceptable behaviour, and to identify as soon as they arose possible breeding grounds of heresy. Pastoral visits, then, are the source par excellence with which to study the phases of the application of the new rules governing godparenthood. I will concentrate on the diocese of Ivrea, once again re-examining the case but from a fresh viewpoint. At the time, the diocese was governed by a real dynasty of bishops, the Ferreros. Various members of the family, which came from Biella, occupied the bishopric of Ivrea uninterruptedly from the year 1500 to 1610 (Benedetto 1942). Up to 1515, the diocese was suffragan to Milan, but in that year it became part of the recently constituted metropolitan of Turin.38 We can take it for granted that the bishops of Ivrea were well informed about Borromeo’s activities, which had reverberated throughout the whole of Catholic Europe. The climate in which they began to carry out the Council’s recommendations was similar to the one that emerges from the councils and synods of Borromeo. The bishop, Ferdinando Ferrero, visited various parts of the diocese of Ivrea in 1566 and in 1571–1572.39 His successor, Cesare Camillo Ferrero, continued the visits in 1581–1582, 1584, 1589, 1592–1595, 1598 and 1601.40 In his visit of 1566, Ferdinando Ferrero wanted, above all, to know if the parish priests had taken steps to inform their flock of the decrees of the Council of Trent, which had been published at Ivrea and of which they had been sent a copy. He also wanted to know if the registers of baptisms (from which the failure to respect the recently introduced restrictions on the number of godparents could evidently be assessed) were being kept properly; very often he asked if in administering the sacraments of baptism 38   Among the obligations of the suffragan bishop towards the metropolitan was (and still is) the participation in provincial councils.: For this reason it is important to clarify the position of Ivrea with regard to Milan, where often errors are to be found; it seems that following the Council of Trent, it was not clear even to Carlo Borromeo. The Bishop of Ivrea, Ferdinando Ferrero, was invited to attend the First Provincial Council of Milan to take place after Trent, but replied saying he was dependant on Turin, although he was willing to yield to more convincing reasons, if Borromeo were to suggest them. Nothing further happened and Ferrero did not attend the Council (Vigotti 1981). 39  Diocesan archive of Ivrea 1–2, G M 566/571/1. 40  Diocesan archive of Ivrea, 1–2, G M 581/1–2 and 1–2, G M 584/601/1.

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the decisions of the Council were being observed. There were no explicit questions on the number of godparents and, for the time being, he limited himself to verifying whether the Tridentine provisions were known, and asked for confirmation of their application ‘in general’ without going into detail. On the other hand, studying the registers of the baptisms of Ivrea and Azeglio, it is clear that the new rules were far from being applied literally, something the bishop was certainly aware of. As is clear from an appraisal of later visits, in imposing change a gradual approach was adopted, similar to what has been observed in the evolution of the synods and provincial councils in Milan. In the visit of 1571–1572, only in two parishes (Barbania and Mercenasco) did he concern himself with enquiring whether the books of baptism were kept properly. Actually, the visit of 1566 had already shown that they had usually been in existence since before the Council made them compulsory. At Barbania, in particular, the parish priest was questioned, ‘ … an teneat librum baptisatorum et an baptizet in tempore et quot compatres admittat’.41 So for the first time an explicit question on the number of godparents was being posed. The parish priest limited himself to replying that he observed the form established by the Tridentine reform, or at least this is what emerges from the record of the pastoral visit. As we saw in the graph of the average number of godfathers and godmothers in Ivrea (Figure 5.1), in 1571 the process of reduction in the number of godparents had already begun, but it was still far from being completed. Ferdinando Ferrero’s successor, Cesare, began his visits in 1581, venturing into some of the most remote and inaccessible areas of his diocese: the alpine valleys of Soana, Locana and Chiusella. As is natural to expect, in these areas he often came across some failings in the conduct of the parish priests. For example, the priest of Ceresole was admonished to be more diligent in the administration of the sacraments, and to keep books of baptisms and marriages, which were still missing. The priest of Locana anticipated the criticisms of the bishop, declaring that in administering baptisms he observed the form established by the Council, except when the harsh alpine climate made it dangerous to cover the distance that separated the church from habitations often placed miles away. At Sparone, Ribordone and Ronco, the bishop expressly asked how many godparents were allowed at baptism. If the parish priest of Sparone virtuously could declare that ‘… observat formam sacri tridentini concili’, the priest of Ribordone confessed that ‘admittit unum compatrem et aliquando unum secundum at plus …’42 and the priest of Ronco ‘observat formam sacri 41   ‘... if the book of baptism is kept and if the baptism is held within the (established) time and how many godparents are admitted’. 42   ‘… a sole godfather is allowed and sometimes at the most a second’.

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tridentini concili, et salvo q. aliquando et raro admittit compatrem et comatrem non solus’.43 In the other alpine parishes visited, either questions were not asked about the celebration of baptism (at Campiglia, Fondo, Pont, Salto) or the parish priest declared generically that he observed the form of the Council (at Vico and at Brosso). In any case, no more questions appeared that directly concerned the number of godparents. The gravity of these cases of ‘resistance’ by alpine communities should not be exaggerated. In those same years, even in the Bishop’s see (Ivrea) cases of multiple godparents were not infrequent, even though the custom was inexorably destined to disappear. However, it is significant that in various cases Ferrero specifically asked to be informed about the number of godparents allowed at baptism, which is further proof of the fact that the reduction in godparents was achieved only by the direct intervention of the episcopal authority, which was pressing and protracted. Between 1581 and 1582, Ferrero also visited 19 localities on the plain. In 16 cases the bishop asked if the form envisaged at Trent for the sacrament of baptism was respected or not, receiving 15 affirmative replies. Only the parish priest of Casalborgone admitted that sometimes he allowed two godfathers or two godmothers, promising that he would not do it any more. The case is interesting because the priest leads us to believe that it was the insistence on the part of the parents of the child that led him to infringe the rule: the population, then, tried to oppose a rule which was unpopular and incomprehensible.44 In the brief visits of 1584 and 1589, there are no questions whatsoever on the conduct of the laity. In 1592–1595, a period in which 33 parishes altogether were inspected. In 19 cases no question was put about the administration of baptism. In 10 cases the parish priest was merely asked generically whether the form established by the Tridentine reforms was observed and an affirmative reply was given. In two cases there were irregularities in the way registers of baptisms and marriage were kept; at Rueglio they were missing entirely. Finally, in two cases, Castellamonte and Quagliuzzo, from the reply given by the parish priest it is possible to deduce that a precise question had been put on the number of godparents allowed at baptism,45 even though the rather concise style in which the records of visits were compiled leaves no direct trace of such question. 43

  ‘… observes the form established by the holy Tridentine Council, except for occasionally allowing more than one godfather, and one godmother’. 44  Unfortunately I have not found any evidence of the way in which the reduction in the number of godparents was explained to the population. 45   For Castellamonte we read: ‘Interrogatus respondit … non admittit vel unum compatrem et ad sumum unam comatrem ex forma concili tridentini in baptizandis pueris.’ The formula used for Quagliuzzo is practically identical.

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No irregularities were mentioned, so it is not possible to know whether the bishop investigated there and not elsewhere, because he had reason to doubt the conduct of the resident parish priests or because he wanted to carry out a verification or he simply investigated in all the parishes; but his clerk did not find it appropriate always to make a note of it in the record of the visit, contenting himself, for example, with noting that the priest observat formam. If, on the other hand, at Castellamonte and at Quagliuzzo irregularities had been found, it would have been serious; the two localities were visited in 1595, when in Ivrea the custom of numerous godparents had been eliminated for good. In the visit of 1598, which was made only to Borgofranco, and during that of 1601, the last made by Cesare Ferrero, no irregularities were mentioned. Altogether, the pastoral visits of the diocese of Ivrea specifically indicate the way the new rules regarding godparents were applied. Initially, in the visits of 1566 and 1571, the issue is not tackled directly. These early visits were concerned with verifying that the priest was aware of the new rules and that he had informed his parishioners about them, that registers of baptisms were kept, and that ‘in general’ the form prescribed by the Council was observed. The bishop’s effort to control and to correct becomes more thorough and pressing in the visits of 1581–1582; in almost all the parishes visited (23 out of 28) precise information is demanded about the way the sacrament of baptism was administered and a specific question is often put on the number of godparents allowed. In these years a climax is reached, even though the full application of the rules cannot be said to be concluded. In 1595 there were still priests who were questioned on the number of godparents and godmothers admitted. If we compare the visits of 1592–1595 with those of 1581–1582, however, it is clear that the correct administration of baptism was no longer a central concern: the percentage of cases in which there was no question whatsoever on the matter is 58 per cent and 18 per cent respectively. It is not an indication of a decrease in interest in the question as much as of the fact that by now the population had been ‘trained’, at least as far as the number of godparents was concerned, something that could easily be checked by the bishop. On the other hand, the process that emerges from the pastoral visits exactly corresponds to the one that can be deduced from the baptismal registers. Both are of a gradual nature, which seems to have been a constant feature of the activity of the two Ferrero bishops. I have already noted that success in the reduction in the number of godfathers and godmothers does not necessarily correspond to the success of the reform of godparenthood. Decades of endeavours, synods and councils, pastoral visits, acts of persuasion and threats of tough measures only achieved that godparenthood assumed a ‘form’ considered

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acceptable. The ‘essence’ of the social institution, that is, the relationship between the parties (compari and comari, godparents and godchildren) proved to be impossible to regulate or control. This does not mean that the Council and the post-Tridentine Church did not influence the relationship of godparenthood and comparatico; on the contrary, the application of the conciliar decrees had evident social consequences. These were not, however, the results desired by the Church, but others that went in a completely opposite direction. This is the subject of the next chapter.

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CHAPTER 6

The Social Impact of the Reform The attempts to put up a resistance to the reform, which can be deduced from baptismal registers and from pastoral visits, are proof of the fact that European populations were much attached to their own customs of godparenthood. Part of the clergy must have indicated that they too were perplexed by the idea of abandoning those customs, if the sizeable number of participants to the Council of Trent who tried to oppose the reduction in the number of godparents can be considered a symptom of a feeling that was common in the whole of the Catholic Church. In those same years Protestant reformers also had to take into consideration a population that wanted to keep their tradition and maintain godparents and compari. The Catholic Church, however, succeeded in making sure that the limits established for the number of godfathers and godmothers were not exceeded. The project of reform proposed at Trent and reaffirmed when the Council’s deliberations were applied, by Carlo Borromeo for instance, required that for the reform to be completed other aspects of the customs currently in use had to be modified. The faithful had to be dissuaded from choosing godparents on the basis of benefits that could accrue (protection, rich gifts at baptism, useful friendships). It was necessary to choose people who were not only capable of acting as tutors of their godchildren’s Christian education, but were also willing to do so. The interests of the parents were not to play any part in the choice of spiritual kin: what was paramount was the spiritual well-being of the baptized. It was obviously a question of imposing a transformation that was profoundly to modify forms of sociability, as spiritual kinship made for a considerable variety of behaviours and customs that changed from place to place and from case to case, and whose implications we are only now beginning to realize. When parents came to choose godfathers and godmothers for their children, they were also, and probably above all, motivated by their own interests and objectives. The Church managed to modify the social role of spiritual kinship, but the results were very different from those intended. Before analysing the developments that took place between the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth centuries, it is necessary to clarify the 

  For example, Calvin agreed to keep godparents only because of the resolute opposition of the inhabitants of Geneva to his proposal to do away with them (Spierling 2005). For further examples see Chapter 4.

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Fathers and Godfathers

importance of the transformation brought about by the reduction in the number of godparents. In the light of what was said in the previous chapter, we can ascertain that as soon as the new Tridentine norms were enforced, many communities were greatly perturbed. Why? What disappeared with these reforms, and what did the communities feel deprived of? What difference did the number of godparents make? To understand the nature of the social change imposed by the conciliar fathers with the reform of godparenthood, it is useful to shift our attention from single individuals to the whole, or rather to the network that connected individuals one to another by way of spiritual kinship. This is not the place to examine in depth the theoretical premises of network analysis, especially as I will make only limited use of it. I will merely recall the well-known distinction proposed by Mark Granovetter between ‘strong’ and ‘weak’ social ties; in some situations weak ties are more effective in achieving desired objectives than strong ones (Granovetter 1973, 1974, 1983). It seems useful to me to interpret spiritual kinship as a weak tie, at least if compared with close natural kinship or affinity. The strength of weak ties lies not only in the ‘weakness’ meant as a limited reciprocal bond (for example, in comparison with marriage), one which leaves more freedom of action, but also in the abundance of these ties: in other words, in the density of the network that they are creating, in the superabundance of the ties between the various members and, as we will see shortly, between the various social ranks of the community.   Useful references are to be found in the monograph number of the Rassegna italiana di sociologia dedicated to network analysis (no. 1, Jan–March 1996), supplemented a little later by the contribution of Michael Eve (1996), as well as by Gribaudi (1998) and Piselli (1995). For examples of its application in history, see no. 1/2005 of the Annales de Démographie Historique.    For most of the period under consideration the paucity of important sources, for example those which could allow us to reconstruct kinship relationships between all the members of a particular community, would render it extremely difficult to resort to network analysis; such a partial view would cast doubt on the reliability of the results. Recently an attempt to apply mathematical statistical methods of network analysis to the study of godparenthood has been undertaken by Cristina Munno for the Venetian community of Follina; some of her early results are discussed in Munno 2005.    Actually, Granovetter includes among the ‘strong’ ties both kinship and friendship, so if we wished to accept rigidly his distinction, spiritual kinship should be considered a strong tie. On the other hand, it is difficult to establish an exact hierarchy of the ‘strength’ of various types of ties, which can change in time on account of social change (Granovetter, in particular, refers to contemporary society), and really it is doubtful whether it is useful. What is important for me is to distinguish clearly between very strong relationships such as close natural kinship and affinity, and ties that in comparison with them are ‘weak’, such as friendship or spiritual kinship.

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Prior to the Council of Trent, baptism was the occasion when a large number of relationships of spiritual kinship were created, not only on account of the frequent presence of multiple godparents, but also because canon law established a series of further ties. The child also became spiritual son of the godparents’ relations as well as spiritual brother to their offspring. It is reasonably certain that the ties that were most deeply felt were the ‘direct’ ones, i.e. between godfathers/godmothers and godchild and, above all, between compari. On the other hand, it cannot be said that other relationships were ignored, if for no reason other than the existence of precise matrimonial bans that had to be respected. If from a reproductive point of view incest created a barrier (godchild and spiritual siblings could easily belong to the same generation), from a social point of view it united. So ‘indirect’ relationships are rightly to be considered constitutive factors in the spiritual kinship networks. It is not difficult to appreciate that pre-Tridentine baptism created a decidedly larger number of spiritual kinship relationships than postCouncil baptism. Take as a hypothetical example a case of model 1 (pure multi-godfather), which envisaged the presence of three godfathers and two godmothers. If all the godfathers and godmothers were married and each of them had three living children on the day the baptism was celebrated, in one act the ceremony would establish 46 new spiritual kinship relations. After the Council, models of this kind would be transformed into the model of the couple (type 5), which featured one godfather and one godmother. Bearing in mind that spiritual brotherhood and indirect compaternitas would disappear simultaneously and bearing in mind the previous assumptions involving the godparents’ marital status along with the number of their children, it would follow that a baptism following this model would create just seven new spiritual kinship relations. The differences between the two examples are even clearer if we consider an extreme case of a multi-godfather model, with scores of godfathers and godmothers. It might be objected that perceptions do not neatly change to fall in line with changes in positive norms, and that the 

  Compaternitas indirecta and fraternitas spiritualis. See Chapter 1.   Six of whom were paternitas spiritualis between godfathers/godmothers and the minister of baptism on the one hand and the baptized on the other, five paternitas spiritualis indirecta between the wives and husbands of the godfathers and godmothers and the baptized, 10 of compaternitas between godfathers/godmothers and the parents of the baptized, 10 of compaternitas indirecta between the wives and husbands of the godfathers/godmothers and the parents of the baptized, 15 of fraternitas spiritualis between the children of godfathers and godmothers and the baptized. 



  Three of paternitas spiritualis between godfather, godmother and minister of baptism on the one hand and the baptized on the other and four of compaternitas between godfather, godmother and parents of the baptized.

118

Fathers and Godfathers

abolition of spiritual brotherhood and indirect compaternitas might have involved only a ban on marriage, not the practices themselves. In fact, on the one hand, marriage impediments could still be kept, as no one was forced to enter a union held to be unseemly; on the other, a special tie might be recognized even in the absence of a matrimonial taboo. It is likely, though, that despite the fact that pockets of resistance remained, in most of Catholic Europe matrimonial customs gradually moved closer to the new norms, if for no other reason than because the extensive impediments typical of the centuries prior to the Council were frequently infringed even before they were abolished. Besides, the limitation on spiritual kinship played only a small part in the reduction in the number of ties; where the multi-godfather models were in use, the part played by the limitation in the number of godparents was considerably more significant. The calculation of the number of ties of spiritual kinship makes it possible to underline a factor that is not only of quantitative importance but indicates a qualitative difference between very diverse situations. Following the reform of godparenthood, an extremely dense network of relations was forced to reorganize and ‘collapse’ within the much narrower limits established by the new regulations. The passage from one network to another is of such importance that their morphology turns out to be practically incommensurable. The change is even more striking if the nature of the relations is considered. Take for example the complete disappearance of an instrument such as spiritual brotherhood, able to generate intragenerational solidarity. Anthropological investigation of compadrazgo has often highlighted the importance of godparenthood as a factor of social cohesion. It certainly carried out this function in the Early Modern Age. Probably the expected thinning of the network of spiritual kinship relationships compromised, at least for a time, the capacity of godparenthood to fulfil this role; at any rate the change must have been recognized in this way by populations accustomed to being able to count on numerous spiritual kin who saw an important aspect of their sociability unexpectedly mutilated. It is understandable, therefore, why these populations often tried to put up resistance, and baptismal registers preserve signs of what seems to be a reaction caused, if not by panic, then by a state of profound dismay.    For example, in the Spanish Sierra the ban on marriage between compari was still operative, if not ‘officially’, at least until the 1950s, despite the fact that it had been abolished by the 1917 Code of Canon Law (Pitt-Rivers 1976a).    If we assume that the relationship of compaternitas indirecta and fraternitas spiritualis was not eliminated, a type 5 model (a couple model) would include, keeping to the usual premises, 19 spiritual kinship relations against the 46 of a type 1 model with three godfathers and two godmothers.

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119

This process can be introduced into a wider context. John Bossy, the historian most involved in the ‘social history of sacraments’, has interpreted pre-Tridentine godparenthood as a factor of social integration (in accordance with anthropological tradition) insofar as it is a key factor in the ‘social miracle’ of universal love. Universal love and Christian charity, the most perfect manifestation of which were the confraternities, were considered absolutely necessary to guarantee the survival of the community, as they alone made it possible to combat the state of continual feuding and to restore peace. Godparenthood, as generator of social relationships that brought with them the duty of reciprocal respect and friendship, was an important means of ‘pacification’. Anthropologists have supplied numerous examples where it was used to settle ongoing feuds (Hammel 1968). From this point of view, a multiplication in the number of godparents offered an opportunity to multiply relationships of friendship ritually guaranteed by the sacredness of baptism. According to Bossy, the forces of social change with their roots in the Council of Trent pointed in a specific direction, that is, ‘from the community to the individual’, discouraging collective rites or, at least, some of the forms of collective participation in rites, and promoting a more individual kind of devotion, unhampered by kindred (Bossy 1998a). The reduction in the number of spiritual kin can also be included among the forces of social change, both because it was part of the struggle against the great reunions of family and friends on occasions of baptism,10 and because it drastically reduced the dimension of the network of comparatico ties and thus tended to limit religious relationships in the broad sense of the term between members of the community;11 predictably, the post-Tridentine Church was also hostile towards confraternities. Furthermore, in the uncertain decades when the Reformation was taking hold, the Church seems to have developed a tendency to distance itself from the ‘moral tradition’ aimed at keeping the peace, re-established from time to time with specific juridical-ritual procedures (for example, the public exchange of a kiss of peace in front of certain altars, the stipulation of a contract of peace in the presence of a notary). The characteristic of these procedures was to follow the slow rhythms of reconciliation, something rejected by those who were the voice of a more intransigent and ‘authoritarian’ approach, which demanded immediate, or almost immediate, obedience; in this sense Carlo

10   On this score, the crucial contribution was the demand that baptism should take place very shortly after birth. Recall what was mentioned in Chapter 4 about the Council of Trent’s proposals to moderate, if not forbid, baptismal festivities. 11   According to Bossy, one of the priorities of the Counter-Reformation was to found the Church on the parish, to the detriment of alternative forms of religious participation.

120

Fathers and Godfathers

Borromeo had a forerunner in the Bishop of Verona, Gianmatteo Giberti.12 Godparenthood was not directly part of the peace mechanism, but served to sanction, as an alternative to marriage, a re-found stability. It is clear, however, that the period when spiritual kin were curtailed coincided with a reaction to the moral tradition. This cannot have been by chance. As well as a reaction to the dismantling of a network of social cohesion, the reaction of the populations of northern Italy to the reform of godparenthood can be explained by taking into account the effects of the weakening of an instrument used to develop a strategy of social relationships. Here it is necessary to pose an important question: how did spiritual kinship put the various strata of society into contact with each other? Was it a relationship between equals or between people at very different levels of the social hierarchy? In other words, using the language common to anthropological studies of compadrazgo, was it a horizontal or a vertical relationship? Lastly, what were the consequences, if any, of the collapse of the network of relations, just mentioned, on the choice of compari? In order to provide an answer to these questions it is necessary to evaluate the social level of the parents and godparents. As I do not have at my disposal other sources that enable me easily to establish the level in all the localities examined, I will make use of the only indicator present in the baptismal registers: the distinctive title of rank, for example, ‘messere’, ‘nobile’, ‘eccellente’, ‘reverendo’, ‘maestro’ (mister, nobleman, excellency, reverend, master).13 In the communities of the ancien régime, at least in the smaller ones, everyone had a clear idea of each inhabitant’s position in terms of superiority, equality or inferiority, in relation to others. Social hierarchy was something well defined, and above all ‘public’, insofar as an immaterial resource like honour, even though it could be measured ‘objectively’, exists only where it is reciprocally acknowledged by the recognition at each contact between different individuals of their respective positions. The distinctive title of rank somehow mirrors, albeit imperfectly, this living and changeable structure of relationships. The difficulty in defining a person’s place within the social hierarchy arises from the deficiencies in the means used to conduct the observation rather than some assumed lack of precision in the subject of the observation. Unfortunately in this light the distinctive title of rank proves to be an imperfect means, especially when one wishes to undertake an 12   Bossy develops his analysis of the crisis of moral tradition in Peace in the Post Reformation (1998c). For the procedures that fostered the re-establishment of peace, see Raggio 1990. 13   For an example of the use of distinctive titles of rank to study the evolution of the social structure of a community, see Cattini 1984.

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inter-temporal analysis. The titles in use could change from place to place and in the course of time; they could be very varied and difficult to place in an absolute hierarchy of prestige; they could vary depending on individual careers and on the compilers of the registrations etc.14 (Alfani 2004a; Dolan 1998). It is preferable then to simplify matters, which is advantageous when analysing data and presenting results. I have therefore divided all the individuals present (either as parents or godparents) in the baptismal registers in the localities studied into four groups on the basis of their distinctive titles of rank. These groups correspond to the following subdivisions of the population: 1. The signori (seigneurs), or those indicated with a title that differed from that of magister (master), or from those reserved for the clergy such as reverendus or venerabilis (reverend, venerable). This is the group to which the social elite belonged. 2. The magistri (masters), those who possessed particular skills, a particular expertise in their craft, and who probably belonged to a guild. This social group not only appears to be quite distinct from that of the seigneurs, but is distinguished by a distinctive title of rank (magister, maistro, maestro, mastro), which is their own prerogative and cannot be replaced by any other as it has no equivalents, neither perfect nor imperfect (unlike titles such as dominus, messere, signore, which were often interchangeable). 3. The clergy, to whom special titles are reserved, such as reverendus and venerabilis. 4. The untitled, mainly belonging to the lower classes. Despite a degree of imprecision and imperfection that a classification of this kind inevitably presents, the large number of samples of baptisms examined guarantees that the results are reasonably reliable. On the other hand, these results will be interpreted ‘qualitatively’, that is paying attention to the levels, the reciprocal positions, rather than the values themselves.

14   Fortunately, in most cases each individual is also shown with the same titles and even when the title changes, there is one that is dominant.

Clerics (%)

Total godfathers

Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Total godfathers

Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Seigneurs

Seigneurs (%)

Masters Masters (%)

Ivrea 1540–1549 1600–1609 Turin¹ 1551–1560 1600–1609 Voghera² 1540–1549 1594–1603 Finale Ligure 1540–1549 1600–1609 Gambellara³ 1541–1549

Untitled Untitled (%)

Fathers Godfathers

A comparison of the ranks of fathers and godfathers

Total godfathers

Table 6.1

90 135

57.8 52.6

15.6 5.2

20.0 42.2

6.7 0

92 20

35.9 20.0

23.9 35.0

38.0 45.0

2.2 0

165 120

24.9 7.5

10.9 3.3

58.2 87.5

6.1 1.7

121 290

87.6 62.1

3.3 0.3

6.6 36.9

2.5 0.7

9 0

66.7 –

11.1 –

22.2 –

0 –

59 254

47.5 6.3

1.7 0

45.8 92.5

5.1 1.2

2082 1556

73.1 44.9

8.8 3.0

18.0 52.0

0.1 0.1

132 43

51.5 32.6

13.6 4.7

34.9 62.8

0 0

572 436

23.3 2.1

11.0 0

65.7 98.0

0 0

243 196

85.6 68.9

9.1 3.1

4.9 28.1

0.4 0

6 11

66.7 18.2

0 9.1

33.3 72.7

0 0

0 23

– 30.4

– 8.7

– 60.9

– 0

285

88.4

4.6

6.7

0.4

6

83.3

16.7

0

0

11

63.6

0

18.2

18.2

1600–1609 Mirandola 1540–1549 1600–1609 Bellano 1540–1549 1600–1609

340

85.6

2.4

11.2

0.9

4

100

0

0

0

29

31.0

0

69.0

0

798 557

29.7 9.2

4.9 1.6

64.5 88.7

0.9 0.5

164 97

11.4 3.1

10.3 1.0

77.7 95.9

0.5 0

240 806

5.0 0

2.7 0.9

88.0 97.2

4.4 1.9

340 216

32.9 52.8

2.7 0.9

56.5 45.8

7.9 0.5

16 0

6.3 –

0 –

50.0 –

43.8 –

204 46

4.9 4.4

0 0

73.0 89.1

22.1 6.5

¹ There is a difference of 11 years in comparison with the other localities in the first sample from Turin because the registers of the parish of S. Agostino began only in 1551. ² The second sample from Voghera relates to the period 1594–1603. on account of a long gap in the register from 1604. ³ The first sample from Gambellara began in 1541 instead of 1540. in line with the date of the first baptismal registers of that locality.

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Fathers and Godfathers

Table 6.1 shows the way in which the parents’ titles related to those of the godfathers, locality by locality,15 before and after the Council of Trent. To facilitate the reading I have restricted my analysis to two decades that I consider apt:16 1540–1549 and 1600–1609. Data relating to godmothers have not been included in the table, as they lead to the same conclusions. I have listed the percentage of godfathers from each class present at the baptism of children of parents under ‘untitled’, ‘masters’, ‘seigneurs’ and ‘clerics’. I have separated the data of the baptisms of natural children and foundlings, which will be dealt with in the next chapter. Table 6.1 is interesting both on account of what it reveals about the composition of the groups of godfathers before the Council of Trent and for what it implies about later transformations. With regard to the first point, the data relative to the first sample of each locality clearly show that it is impossible to classify the models of godparenthood common in northern Italy up until the mid-sixteenth century as simply horizontal or vertical, as the situation is far more complex. First, let us examine the case of godfathers of children of untitled parents. Leaving aside the clergy for a moment, we can see that these godparents belong to all levels of the social categories, the untitled, the masters and the seigneurs. The relatively few godfathers who were masters can be explained by their limited number in the total population; it is appropriate, then, to concentrate on those without a title and on the seigneurs. The first are present in a percentage that varies between 29.7 per cent (at Mirandola) and 88.4 per cent (at Gambellara), the second go from 4.8 per cent of the total (at Finale) to 64.5 per cent (at Mirandola). These data do not entitle us to say that the pre-Tridentine models of godparenthood, and especially the multi-godfather ones, tended to be horizontal or, to put it more clearly, did not aspire to be vertical. In fact, it could be assumed that in the make-up of a large group of godparents the presence of some untitled individuals can be explained by the circumstance that if a father from a lower rank was unable to secure the desired number of high-ranking godparents, he would then choose some of his peers, but merely as ‘fillers’.

15   For Ivrea I have used only the data relating to the parish of S. Ulderico. I have excluded Azeglio from the table because its registers are full of gaps for the years subsequent to 1599. 16   The first decade had to be sufficiently distant from the end of the Council to be adequate to reflect pre-Tridentine godparenthood, but not so far back as to be unable to guarantee the availability of data for most of the localities. The second decade had to relate to a period when the couple model was a fixture.

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That this assumption is unfounded can easily be demonstrated; it is sufficient to look at the baptism of children of seigneurs. In some respects it is surprising that untitled godfathers are to be found also at these ceremonies; the percentage ranges from 4.9 per cent at Bellano (whose elite are, at least apparently, absolutely closed from the point of view of spiritual kinship) to 63.6 per cent at Gambellara. The presence of seigneur godfathers, on the other hand, varies from 18.2 per cent at Gambellara to 88 per cent at Mirandola: the position of each locality tends to mirror that found for the untitled godfathers. This was predictable as the master and clergy godfathers made up only a small part of the total number. The seigneurs, therefore, usually chose a considerable number of spiritual kin from people of lower ranks than their own, a practice that appears even more marked if the presence of master godfathers is taken into account, as they too were on a lower rung of the social ladder. The clergy merit separate discussion. In some localities they are often to be found at baptisms (at Ivrea and Turin, but above all at Bellano), while in others they are completely absent. This is partly due to fundamental differences between the multi-godfather and single-godfather models, or multi-godfather models but with a very limited maximum number of godparents allowed. If it was possible to choose one godparent or at most two, it was unlikely that a member of the clergy would be admitted. This factor, however, does not explain the almost total absence of the clergy at baptisms celebrated in Voghera, one of the localities among those examined where godfathers were most numerous. Whether or not godfathers were chosen from the clergy, the ‘social legitimacy’ of this choice is then a further element that was regulated by local customs, in the absence of any definite norm on the matter. There is a fundamental difference between ‘non-limited’ multi-godfather models (types 1 and 2) and those that are extremely limited (types 5 and 6, to which some variations of types 3 and 4 can be added), which we could define as ‘oligo-godfather’. The multi-godfather models offered infinitely better strategic possibilities in comparison with the oligo-godfather models, insofar as they made it possible to form a group of spiritual kin pursuing simultaneously a multiplicity of objectives, which led to a choice of people with different characteristics: people from the same rank, from an inferior or a superior one, lay people or the clergy, and so on. If the possibility of choosing compari from an inferior rank to one’s own was a typical characteristic of spiritual kinship, to be found also in the oligo-godfather models, it was with the multi-godfather models that it was really evident. Examining data baptism by baptism reveals that large groups of spiritual kin usually included quite different components, with godparents belonging to all the different rungs of the social ladder,

126

Fathers and Godfathers

including perhaps a member of the clergy. I will come back to this later on.17 The data in Table 6.1 enable us to deal with the question of the changes following the Council. A comparison of the two samples leads in some way to an unexpected conclusion: far from producing a ‘moralization’ of godparenthood, thanks to which spiritual kin would at last have concerned themselves with the Christian education of their godchildren, the Tridentine reform had an entirely unwanted outcome, one that makes it doubtful whether the godparents carried out their duty any better than before; in fact, perhaps the opposite was true. The drastic reduction in the size of the groups of godparents made it impossible to pursue the traditional strategies of selection. The social consequences of this change are evident. If we consider the godparents of the children of the untitled, everywhere (except for Bellano) the percentage of godfathers belonging to their same class is reduced, often drastically: from 73 to 45 per cent at Voghera, from 30 to 9 per cent at Mirandola, from 86 to 69 per cent at Finale Ligure, from 88 to 62 per cent at Turin, from 58 to 53 per cent at Ivrea, from 88 to 86 per cent at Gambellara. Also, the percentage of godfathers who were masters or clerics is smaller. At the same time, the percentage of godparents chosen from the seigneurs increased (again except for Bellano): from 18 to 52 per cent at Voghera, from 64 to 89 per cent at Mirandola, from 5 to 28 per cent at Finale Ligure, from 7 to 37 per cent at Turin, from 20 to 42 per cent at Ivrea, from 7 to 11 per cent at Gambellara. If we look at the children of parents without a title, godparenthood as a social institution seems to have been subjected to a push towards verticalization. If we consider the children of the seigneurs, we discover an opposite trend; everywhere the percentage of godparents from their own class increases. The most remarkable cases are those of Turin (from 46 to 93 per cent), Gambellara (from 19 to 69 per cent), Ivrea (from 58 to 88 per cent) and Voghera (from 66 to 98 per cent). At the same time, the percentage of untitled godparents drops (from 47 to 6 per cent in Turin, from 64 to 31 per cent at Gambellara, from 25 to 8 per cent in Ivrea and from 23 to 2 per cent at Voghera). In localities such as Voghera, Turin, Bellano, Ivrea and Mirandola at the beginning of the seventeenth century the ‘spiritual endogamy’18 of the class of the seigneurs was practically absolute. In their case, then, the social 17

  In Chapter 9.   The description ‘spiritual endogamy’ is obviously meaningless from an etymological point of view, but it seems to me that it gives a good idea of what I wish to convey and, given the current use of the term ‘endogamy’, I think it is easily and immediately understandable and does not create confusion. For this usage, see Alfani (2005b). 18

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impact produced by the Tridentine reform led to a horizontal selection of godparents among their peers. It was, above all, masters and clergy who paid for these changes; increasingly they were excluded from the baptism of the offspring of other classes. Clergy, especially, almost completely disappeared. It is not possible to explain this phenomenon with a change in legislation, as the only members of the clergy to be banned from godparenthood were monks, and by law they were already excluded prior to the Council.19 Rather, it was the sudden reduction in the size of the group of spiritual kin that penalized the clergy; as it was permissible to choose only one godfather, it was out of the question to choose a priest. In the divisive situation and confusion that were features of godparenthood in the years subsequent to the introduction of the new regulations, the ‘surviving’ godfather of these once-large groups is the ‘best’ that can be obtained, that is, from the highest possible rank. It would seem that the search for patronage in the past had been only one of the elements that contributed to determining the make-up of the group of spiritual kin, while now it prevailed over all others. The two trends, a vertical one for the lower classes and a horizontal one for the higher ranks, went in parallel with the progressive reduction in the average number of godparents during the phase when the new regulations were being applied and adapted. This can be clearly seen from the graphs in Figures 6.1 and 6.2, where the annual series of the percentage of godfathers from each social class are indicated respectively for the children of the untitled and the seigneurs of Voghera. The shape of the graphs for Voghera is very telling, and it confirms the link that existed between the reduction in the number of godparents and the transformation of the comparatico relationship. The verticalization of godparenthood of the children of the untitled, and the horizontal trend and ‘spiritual endogamy’ of the godparenthood of the children of the seigneurs reflect a gradual process that closely follows the stages of the application of the Tridentine norms limiting the number of spiritual kin. When this transitional phase terminated between the end of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the seventeenth century, an equilibrium was reached that probably lasted into the following decades. I will return to this hypothesis later.

19

  In some areas, always before the Council, attempts were made to prohibit secular clergy from godfatherhood. A similar ban was present, for example, in the Constitutions of Fiesole of 1306, and was reaffirmed by the Provincial Council of Florence in 1517. In this case the reason put forward was not only to prevent members of the clergy from too close an association with lay friends, but also to prevent the latter, thanks to spiritual kinship, from putting pressure on the former and thus influencing their activities. It seems, however, that the Florentine elite were quite able to ignore this prohibition (Haas 1998, pp. 69–70).

Fathers and Godfathers

128

    

8QWLWOHG Fig, 6.1

0DVWHUV

6HLJQHXUV

































&OHUJ\

Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the untitled (Voghera, 1534–1604)

     

8QWLWOHG Fig. 6.2

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6HLJQHXUV

































&OHUJ\

Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the seigneurs (Voghera, 1534–1604)

Recorded on a graph, the data from the other communities are seen to be quite analogous with that from Voghera, except for those from Bellano. As can be seen from Table 6.1, Bellano was the only locality, among those where the multi-godfather model was operative, that had characteristics which differed from the others. On the basis of the data recorded on the table, with regard to the percentage of the godfathers of the untitled, the impression is that Bellano went in the opposite direction to the current

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129

trend, with a definite increase in untitled godparents and a reduction in all the others, including seigneurs. If, however, we examine the graph of the annual data, we discover that the situation is far more complex (Figure 6.3).

     

8QWLWOHG Fig. 6.3

0DVWHUV

6HLJQHXUV



































&OHUJ\

Distribution by rank of the godfathers of the children of the untitled (Bellano, 1533–1609)

In the period after the conclusion of the Council, Bellano, far from experiencing a counter trend, experienced a rapid and very sudden reduction in the presence of untitled godparents at the baptisms of the children from families of their same class; such baptisms were, however, attended by an unusual number of seigneurs. This practice steadily grew, reaching a peak around 1577. It then declined until at the end of the century it returned to the values that roughly matched those prior to the imposition of the new regulations, except for the fact that the clergy had almost disappeared, to the advantage of untitled godfathers. What happened at Bellano is a further sign of the disarray and confusion caused in the short term by the Tridentine reform. As will be remembered, in this locality the reduction in the number of godfathers and godmothers was immediate: it took place before July 1564, without the population being able to put up any real resistance. The reaction is exactly the same as that found elsewhere: the only ‘surviving’ godfather was the highest in rank who could be persuaded to attend the ceremony. Unlike elsewhere, in time this ‘impulsive’ reaction weakened and there was a return to more moderate choices. The case of Bellano, then, prompts us to be cautious when suggesting that the equilibrium reached by communities like Voghera at the end of the

130

Fathers and Godfathers

sixteenth century was maintained in the following centuries; additionally, data are currently scarce for the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when there might have been significant changes. It is true though that Bellano is anomalous, and elsewhere I have found no traces of any early ‘second thoughts’ that corrected the consequences experienced everywhere by godparenthood following the Council’s deliberations. Going back to the sixteenth century, how can we interpret this twofold thrust that godparenthood experienced, ‘vertical’ in the case of the lower rungs of the social ladder and ‘horizontal’ in the higher ones, which is to be found in many places in northern Italy? Undoubtedly, it appears that the Tridentine reform of godparenthood became a factor of social closure: the opportunity for having ‘official’ relationships with people from very different classes was drastically reduced. It is well known that in the second half of the sixteenth century central northern Italy experienced a marked economic recovery that remedied the damage caused in many areas by the conflict between France and Spain during the first part of the century. For many nouveaux riches it was a chance to try to climb the social ladder;20 in other words, society tended to open its doors. At the same time, however, there were forces at work moving in the opposite direction, tending towards social closure. An example was the new Tridentine regulations on marriage, which made so-called ‘clandestine marriages’ impossible and thus reinforced parental control of unions (Zarri 1996). The data shown indicate that the Council of Trent produced similar effects with the reform of godparenthood. If prior to 1563 parents were quite free to select godparents from all levels of the social hierarchy, in the last quarter of the century this possibility was drastically reduced. It was still permissible through compaternitas to become kin of people from a completely different rank from one’s own, and among the members of lower classes this practice became more common. However, the differences in rank were now so wide that there was no longer any doubt about the reciprocal position of the new relations. Exaggerating a little, it is possible to claim that, as any possibility of becoming ‘official’ friends with those from a higher class had disappeared, the only means of establishing a contact was to become their clients. These conclusions obviously need to be verified by extending investigation to other communities, and with the use of other sources, by making a thorough study at a local level of the transformation that took place in godparenthood. One thing, though, is certain: the Tridentine reform propelled godparenthood in a direction that was not desired by the Church; in fact, it went in the very opposite direction. 20   This, for example, has been demonstrated in a study conducted by Marco Cattini (1984) on San Felice and by Paola Subacchi’s research centred on Piacenza (1996).

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It was the conciliar fathers’ intention that parents should be encouraged to choose for their children godparents who could really carry out their role as tutors in a correct Christian education. As the Council did not envisage any definite norm in the matter, in the following decades personalities of the calibre of Carlo Borromeo, in their efforts to try and apply the Tridentine decrees, grasped the opportunity to tackle these issues and prevent the choice of godparents being made for personal interest. The Church, then, wanted godparenthood to become above all a horizontal relationship, between peers, but it achieved the opposite result and never actually managed to impose its own views on reluctant populations. To solve the problem of Christian education it had to resign itself to adopting other means, such as catechism. I will deal with this in Chapter 10.

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CHAPTER 7

Newborn Babies and Spiritual Kinship: Equal Opportunities or Discrimination? Up to now, in dealing with the godparenthood models that envisaged numerous spiritual kin, I have made no distinction between male and female newborn babies, merely noting that no great differences existed in their spiritual kin. In the literature on godparenthood, it is not uncommon to meet comments that seem to imply that there was discrimination based on sex in the choice of godparents. On the basis of my data, I think this is a misleading view, based on prejudice and similar to that which has led some to assume that only children of upper-class parents had numerous godparents. I have discussed the question of the relationship between social rank and the provision of spiritual kin in the previous chapter, showing how even infants from lower classes had numerous godparents, from all levels of the social hierarchy. In the same way, the offspring of the elite were also given godparents of humble origin; all in all, pre-Tridentine godparenthood was an opportunity to ratify the entrance of the child into the community as a whole, rather than into the restricted circle of his or her peers. The provision of very heterogeneous spiritual connections derives from this attitude, which was consistent with the Christian meaning of baptism and therefore attributable to cultural factors as well as to ‘strategic’ aims. My intention now is to add the gender factor to my analysis, showing how it combined with other elements to define a grading of privilege that was different from what might have been expected. As we will see, other factors had a far more decisive role than sex in affecting the number and quality of the godparents allotted to each infant. It was, in particular, a question of the legitimacy of the baby’s birth and of its order, in other words the position of each infant in relation to their siblings: were the firstborn especially privileged? The existence of discriminating factors linked to godparenthood is important when evaluating the opportunities available to children with different ascribed characteristics. Godparents could offer support at crucial times, for example, with the premature loss of parents or by taking a child on as an apprentice. Besides this, they constituted a store of social

134

Fathers and Godfathers

links on which it was possible to fall back in times of need. So, if to socially unfavourable factors, such as being illegitimate, was added an even more disadvantageous inclusion in the spiritual kinship network, an already unfortunate position was further worsened. On the other hand, provided there was no significant ‘spiritual’ discrimination, godparents could perhaps contribute to alleviating the consequences of an unpromising birth. It is obvious that infants had no chance of influencing their choice of godparents; they were ‘passive players’ at their own baptism. However, though passive, they possessed characteristics that affected the choice of the other players, though not all such characteristics were always known before the choice was made. If a baby’s order of birth and legitimacy would never usually be in doubt beforehand, the same cannot be said for its sex. As the baptismal ceremony took place very soon after birth, the baby’s sex remained unknown until a few hours before the ceremony. Probably it was the combination of these known and unknown factors that had consequences we would not fully anticipate. This is certainly the case in the absence of discrimination between the sexes. Given that in European societies of the ancien régime genders had clearly different roles, it might be expected that boys and girls would be treated differently at birth. The former might have had more numerous or more prestigious spiritual kin, more capable of offering them support when the boys entered the company of the active members of the community. For girls, second-rate connections might have been expected, or perhaps godmothers, given to them in greater numbers than to boys. Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, analysing the Florentine family records, noted that ‘Leur rédacteurs font moins d’efforts pour rapporter les noms des parents spirituels acquis aux baptêmes des filles que pour ceux des garçons. Ils semblent ainsi juger que l’alliance spirituelle contractée à travers les baptêmes des nouveaux-nées mâles est plus importante, plus digne d’etre mémorisée, que celle nouée par le baptême des filles’ 

  The First Provincial Council of Milan (1565), presided over by Carlo Borromeo, established that baptism had to take place within eight days of birth (AEM, vol. II, coll. 43–45). On other occasions even more restrictive rules were issued in accordance with the Tridentine principle which decreed that baptism should be celebrated ‘as soon as possible’ (quam primum). The King of France, for example, in 1698 decreed that baptism should take place within 24 hours of birth (Gourdon 2003). However, at least in the first centuries of the Modern Age, norms of this kind were aimed at preventing deviant cases rather than opposing common practices. It was the conviction that baptism was a necessary condition to obtain salvation that encouraged parents to baptize their children very quickly (Le Goff 1982; Prosperi 2005).    ‘Their compilers make less effort to record the names of spiritual kin acquired with girls’ baptism than with those of boys. Thus they seem to consider the spiritual alliance

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

135

(Klapisch-Zuber 1985b, pp. 56–57). Klapisch-Zuber discovered in Florence some discrimination based on sex, as girls were given on average fewer godparents: 59 per cent of them had one or two godparents, while 58 per cent of boys had at least three. However, the sex of the baptized did not determine that of the spiritual kin; boys actually had more godmothers than girls. As will be seen, my data confirm that newborn males were given a higher number of spiritual kin, though the difference is very limited. At this point, it is time to be more specific. It can be assumed that, generally, it was preferable to provide the newborn babies with as many kin as possible regardless of their sex. How, then, can the existence of discrimination be explained? And why was the socially accepted upper limit of spiritual kin not always reached, this limit in some communities being very high and not rigidly pre-established? In order to reply to these questions, it is helpful to consider godparents as a scarce resource. If a key person was asked to take part in the baptism of a child, perhaps expecting rich gifts as well as social support, it was unlikely that the same person would agree to carry out similar functions for later children. If parents wished to extend their network of alliances, it would be better to turn their attention elsewhere, rather than repeating a connection with a person where there was already a relationship of kinship. Usually the presence of a particular godparent at baptism was the result of definite agreements, which sometimes demanded lengthy negotiations to conclude, but I will come back to this shortly. Whatever the reasons, the empirical data clearly indicate that the list of possible candidates for godparenthood was limited in number, and those on the list could not, except in special circumstances, be ‘reused’. In this light it is important to evaluate whether the distribution, numerical and qualitative, of godparents was uniform among all children, or if some had preferential treatment. obtained by the baptism of newborn males more important and more worthy to be remembered than that of girls’.    In literature there is no lack of cases where the prevailing custom was to attribute the same godparent to all the children of a couple (for example at Neckarhausen in Germany, or in various parts of the Balkans. For Neckarhausen, see Sabean 1998; for the Balkans, Hammel 1968). These are customs typical of godparenthood models that were very different from those I discovered in Italy, allowing godparenthood to be used to build and progressively renew a privileged relationship with just one godparent; often it was a public recognition of patronage. In the localities I have studied similar practices were neither appreciated nor common (I will come back to the exceptions), and in general the presence of a particular person at the baptism of one’s child was an event not to be repeated unless the child had died and the same godparents were given to a brother born later.    In the next chapter I will look at cases in Ivrea, and especially at recurring godparents and crossed godparents.

Table 7.1

Average number of godfathers and godmothers for baptized males and females before the Council of Trent Years

Males

Females

Total baptisms

Average number of godfathers

Average number of godmothers

Total baptisms

Average number of godfathers

Average number of godmothers

Ivrea¹

1473–1562

731

2.65

1.24

656

2.47

1.31

Azeglio

1543–1562

275

2.45

1.56

307

2.23

1.55

Gambellara

1541–1562

298

1.38

1.42

269

1.41

1.31

Turin

1551–1562

59

2.54

0.68

50

2.38

0.6

Bellano

1533–1562

302

3.04

2.42

272

2.67

2.3

Finale

1481–1562

524

1.59

1.54

452

1.55

1.45

Voghera²

1534–1562

2,106

2.21

–

1,979

2.15

–

Mirandola

1484–1562

4,412

1.16

1.19

4,035

1.14

1.20

Ravenna

1555–1557

718

1.20

0.36

647

1.00

0.41

Cesena

1555–1557

363

1.34

1.23

380

1.18

1.21

Nonantola

1558–1562

141

0.97

0.92

136

1

0.96

¹ The data recorded in this and the following tables relates only to the parish of S. Ulderico. ² As will be recalled, the godparenthood model in Voghera did not envisage that infants be given godmothers.

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

137

Table 7.1 records the data for the average number of godfathers and godmothers of newborn males and females baptized before the Council of Trent in the communities already mentioned, to which I have added Nonantola, Ravenna and Cesena. The data suggest that boys tended to have a larger number of spiritual kin, both godfathers and godmothers, than girls. In all the localities except Gambellara and Nonantola, boys on average had more godfathers than girls, and in all the localities except Ivrea, Mirandola, Ravenna and Nonantola, more godmothers. The trend is clear, even though the extent of the discrimination is very limited. The case in which it is most marked is Bellano, both for godfathers and for godmothers (on average 3.04 against 2.67 and 2.42 against 2.3 respectively). This situation of moderate privilege does not change if we look at the ‘quality’ of spiritual kin. In Table 7.2, using the subdivision of the population into the four classes adopted in the previous chapter, I have recorded the percentage of godparents under ‘untitled’, ‘masters’, ‘seigneurs’ and ‘clerics’ for the baptisms of newborn males and females respectively. The data concerning godmothers (not recorded for the sake of brevity) confirm the conclusions that can be deduced from the data for godfathers. I have excluded from the count the baptism of natural children and of foundlings, which I will deal with separately. In all the localities except Ivrea, Finale Ligure and Ravenna, boys are given upper-class godparents, belonging to the seigneurial class, in a higher percentage than girls. At the same time, except in Ivrea and Finale Ligure, they have fewer godparents from the lower ranks, i.e. the untitled. As for the average number of godfathers and godmothers, the differences are negligible.

  Nonantola is in Emilia, near Modena; Ravenna and Cesena are cities in Romagna. Although I only have for these communities samples of data that are chronologically limited, I include them in the analysis because they are invaluable for the study of the discrimination that foundlings experienced, which I will deal with shortly.

Table 7.2

Ranks of godparents for baptized males and females before the Council of Trent

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Total godfathers

Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Females

Untitled (%)

Males Total godfathers

Years

Ivrea

1473–1562

1,930

52

13.9

27.3

6.8

1,615

50.4

14.5

27.3

7.8

Azeglio

1543–1562

672

79.8

6.6

6.7

7

687

84.1

5.5

3.4

7

Gambellara

1541–1562

412

82

7

10

1

380

87.6

3.7

7.9

0.8

Turin

1551–1562

142

75.4

0

20.4

4.2

117

76.9

5.1

13.7

4.3

Bellano

1533–1562

905

22.2

1.9

63

12.9

712

26

1.4

57.3

15.3

Finale

1481–1562

823

88.6

3.5

6.1

1.8

591

87.8

4.1

7.4

0.7

Voghera

1534–1562

4,590

62.2

8.7

29.1

0

4,187

66

8.1

25.9

0

Mirandola

1484–1562

4,911

37.7

10.1

47.6

4.6

4,407

39

9.6

46.7

4.7

Ravenna

1555–1557

852

36.9

0.8

55.8

6.6

643

37.8

1.4

56.1

4.7

Cesena

1555–1557

478

49

8.4

36

6.7

440

50.2

11.6

30.2

8

Nonantola

1558–1562

133

63.9

12

23.3

0.8

132

70.5

9.1

20.5

0

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

139

The sex of the baptized child, therefore, influenced far less than might have been supposed the way the choice of godparents. Why was the bias usually accorded to male descendants not carried into more numerous and prestigious godparents? One explanation may be that until just before the baptism there was uncertainty about the sex of the newborn baby. There is reason to suppose that at the moment of birth a decision had already been taken about most of the godparents, even though the exact day of labour was not known. As most baptisms were celebrated very shortly after a birth (if not immediately, in cases where there was doubt that the infant would survive), it was better to be prudent, so much so that in some cases the agreement to establish anew a relationship of comparatico was the result of lengthy negotiations. In one example, Claude Gauvard (1993) reports the case of two neighbours in Rouen in the fourteenth century, Perrin and Baillevache, who publicly take an oath to enter into a comparatico relationship, once Baillevache’s first child is born, and Perrin holds him at baptism. The author interprets this behaviour as part of a strategy designed to neutralize violence and criminality between neighbours, which was the cause of a considerable amount of urban crime; between compari security was (almost) completely guaranteed. In situations like this, it is clear that uncertainty about the gender of the baby made it necessary to plan blindly how the group of spiritual kin was to be composed; this, perhaps unwittingly, resulted in the protection of the female sex. This interpretation, though, seems to go against customs, common in most of Europe, that enforced a different treatment for newborn males and females: the ternary model, for example, which envisaged two godfathers and a godmother for males and vice versa for females. The problem, though, lies in our limited knowledge of the procedures necessary to guarantee that the desired godfathers and godmothers were present at baptism, procedures that probably changed according to place, time and customs. In the case of the relatively rigid ternary model it is possible that a particularly desirable godfather or godmother was ensured in advance and the list of spiritual kin would be completed later, once the sex of the infant was known. Compared with this, which is mere hypothesis, it is necessary to recognize that it was the most flexible models, and especially those that allowed the presence of numerous godfathers and godmothers,

   Also in Ivrea, midwives, or some of them, probably used techniques to forecast the sex of the baby. Their reliability, however, was probably minimal, if not non-existent. It can be noted that a choice made on the basis of unfounded information corresponds, in the results, to a calculation made in a condition of uncertainty.

140

Fathers and Godfathers

that potentially posed far more difficult problems in the planning and strategic management of godparenthood. The question of the strategies in the selection of spiritual kin is complicated and will be examined later. For now the essential point to make is that discrimination on the grounds of sex proves to be a false problem, either because of the uncertainty of the sex of the infant or because current practices meant that there was not a big difference between the way males and females were treated, perhaps because what was really important were the comparatico relationships that the parents themselves wished to acquire. The planning procedures of the baptisms held in those communities that I have studied also protected newborn girls in another way. Those who were really privileged were the firstborn, whether they were males or females. Like gender, the order of birth is traditionally a discriminating factor. However, compared with gender, it is more difficult to analyse; it is necessary to resort to data that enable us to reconstruct the sequence of the births for each family nucleus. The only data of this kind at my disposal refer to the communities of Ivrea and Azeglio. I have restricted my analysis to those cases where it is possible to reconstruct the order of births with a certain confidence. I have not taken into account families in which I have found only one child, in the hope of being able to reduce as far as possible any distortions caused by migration or by the use of other baptismal fonts (see Alfani 2004a). Table 7.3 records the usual figures for the average number of godfathers and godmothers respectively for firstborn male and female children .



  It is clearly impossible to follow the families in their transfer from one parish to another, and it is probable that for this and other reasons (Alfani 2004a) the resulting samples do not include all the firstborn in the period under consideration nor, on the other hand, is it possible to be certain that all its members were really firstborn. The differences between the measurements for the whole population and those of the subset of the firstborn are certainly underestimated. Even so, the data clearly indicate that the firstborn had more and better godparents.

Table 7.3

Average number of godfathers and godmothers for firstborn males and females before the Council of Trent Males

Females

Total baptisms

Average number of godfathers

Average number of godmothers

Total baptisms

Average number of godfathers

Average number of godmothers

Firstborn

115

2.8

1.27

120

2.68

1.42

All newborn

731

2.65

1.24

656

2.47

1.31

Firstborn

71

2.56

2.08

67

2.40

1.9

All newborn

275

2.45

1.56

307

2.23

1.55

Ivrea (1473–1562)

Azeglio (1543–1562)

Table 7.4

Ranks of godfathers for firstborn males and females (up until 1562)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Total godfathers

Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

319

44.2

16.9

31

7.8

322

44.1

14

31.7

10.3

1,930

52

13.9

27.3

6.8

1,615

50.4

14.5

27.3

7.8

Total godfathers

Masters (%)

Females

Untitled (%)

Males

Ivrea (1473–1562) Firstborn All newborn

Azeglio (1543–1562) Firstborn

179

79.9

7.8

7.8

4.5

160

88.1

6.3

3.1

2.5

All newborn

672

79.8

6.6

6.7

7

687

84.1

5.5

3.4

7

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

143

The order of birth was of considerable importance in establishing the size of the group of spiritual kin. The favour granted to the firstborn, whatever their sex, is clear. In Ivrea, the average number of godfathers for males increases from 2.65 to 2.8 and for females from 2.47 to 2.68, while at Azeglio it rises from 2.45 to 2.56 and from 2.23 to 2.4 respectively. The same applies to godmothers. The privileged position occupied by the firstborn within the spiritual kinship network becomes clear from the status of the godparents (Table 7.4). In Ivrea, in a comparison between the firstborn and all those being baptized, the percentage of godfathers of a lower rank (the untitled) is decidedly reduced: from 52 to 44.2 per cent for males and from 50.4 to 44.1 per cent for females. Correspondingly, the percentage of godfathers from a higher rank (seigneurs) increases from 27.3 to 31 per cent for males, and from 27.3 to 31.7 per cent for females. Strangely, no similar trend is to be found at Azeglio, given that the pattern of differences between the firstborn and the others is very small, and contrasts with that found in Ivrea. The reasons for this different attitude can probably be attributed to the context. Azeglio was a small village with little social diversity, which limited the potential significance of a comparatico strategy with higher ranks. As in Ivrea, the firstborn were privileged, but this appears in the average number of godparents rather than in the number of titled godparents. What is the reason for this privilege? It can probably, at least in part, be explained by cultural factors that led parents to consider the firstborn as more important than the others (with the possible exception of the firstborn male in comparison with his older sisters), which meant they were favoured, symbolically and materially, and were given more spiritual kin. As well as this factor, the young couple’s impatience to provide themselves with comparatico relationships must be taken into account. The baptism of the firstborn was an opportunity to begin to build up a network of comparatico relationships, which would be strengthened and perfected with the baptism of other children and by their own participation in other ceremonies as godfathers and godmothers. We can assume that



  The case of the children of Stefano and Margherita de Aijmino, baptized at the font of S. Ulderico in Ivrea, is a good example. Their firstborn was a girl, Beatrice, baptized on 7 April 1526 in the presence of four godfathers and three godmothers. The second was a male, baptized on 21 June 1528. He still had a relatively large number of godfathers (three), but no godmother. Later children were also provided with fewer spiritual kin than the firstborn: Bartolomea had three godfathers and two godmothers (5 September 1531); Gaspare two godfathers and no godmother (22 December 1532); Marta three godfathers and no godmother (7 July 1539); Paola two godfathers and one godmother (24 May 1542); Antonio one godfather and one godmother (3 June 1548).

144

Fathers and Godfathers

all, or almost all, the long-awaited connections were set up at the first opportunity. I will come back to this. The question arises whether the privileged situation granted to the firstborn prior to the Council of Trent continued after the couple model had been introduced at Ivrea and Azeglio. Regarding the quantity of godfathers and godmothers, there was almost no room for manoeuvre, which meant that it is necessary to concentrate on their quality to evaluate the relative favour that children of a different pecking order enjoyed. Table 7.5 records the distribution by distinctive title of rank of the godparents of baptism for the ceremonies after 1587, which, as will be recalled, marked the end of the resistance to the couple model and its definite adoption. The data imply that towards the end of the sixteenth century the trend was to re-equate the position of the firstborn in comparison with the other baptized. Not only did they have the same number of godfathers and godmothers as their younger siblings (one godfather and one godmother), but also the social rank of the spiritual kin was approximately the same. It is dangerous to generalize these observations to apply to the following years, as it is possible that the situation of godparenthood as a social institution was not yet completely stabilized. It is reasonably safe to assume that in the aftermath of the changes imposed by the Tridentine reform, privileged categories such as the firstborn would have been swept away by a general trend towards the verticalization of the relationship of godparenthood, which led to giving all children godparents from the highest possible rank. Within circumstances like this, any favour accorded to the firstborn is difficult to identify. The most interesting aspect of the transformation of godparenthood from the point of view of privilege, however, concerns discrimination on the basis not of order of birth but of gender, and especially regarding godmothers. In Ivrea, before the Council of Trent, godmothers were absent at about one baptism in four. In other localities, like Turin and Voghera, the model of godparenthood in use envisaged the occasional attendance of a godmother (in Turin at one baptism in five), or a total absence (at Voghera). In all these localities the drastic reduction in the number of godparents permitted meant that, in adopting the couple model (type 5), a godmother was always present. The Tridentine reform, therefore, was an opportunity to enhance the godmother’s role and to increase the number of women acceding to spiritual kinship (see the next chapter).

Table 7.5

Ranks of godfathers for firstborn males and females after 1587

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Total godfathers

Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

Firstborn

69

24.6

2.9

68.1

4.4

62

31.2

4.9

60.7

3.3

All newborn

374

27.5

5.4

64.2

2.9

362

26.8

6.1

63

4.1

Total godfathers

Masters (%)

Females

Untitled (%)

Males

Ivrea (1587–1616)

Azeglio (1587–1599) Firstborn

13

61.5

30.8

7.7

0

17

82.4

0

17.7

0

All newborn

192

77.6

10.4

12

0

169

81.1

4.7

14.2

0

146

Fathers and Godfathers

The last important factor in social discrimination is still to be evaluated: the legitimacy or illegitimacy of the infant. This factor goes with another, the abandonment of babies, which poses intriguing questions about the practices of godparenthood. During the Modern Era many illegitimate children were abandoned, left either ‘in the wheel’ in those villages and towns that had one (a mechanism in a church door in which an unwanted baby could be placed anonymously), or on the doorstep of a house or in some other place. Such was also the fate of some legitimate children whose parents either did not want or could not keep them.10 The illegitimate infants, baptized by one or both of their parents, were given godparents following a selection process similar to that for legitimate children. They were, though, obviously subject to discrimination. Before the Council of Trent they were given a reduced number of spiritual kin. For example, in Ivrea the illegitimate males had an average of 1.5 godfathers and 0.75 godmothers compared to the norm for all newborn babies of 2.65 and 1.24 respectively; illegitimate girls had 1.33 godfathers and 0.67 godmothers against 2. 47 and 1.31. At Voghera, illegitimate males had 1.75 godfathers against the usual 2.21 and illegitimate females 2.09 against 2.15 (as will be recalled, at Voghera prior to the Council, there were no godmothers).11 I found an equally marked discrimination regarding the social rank of godfathers and godmothers (the ‘best’ godparents were reserved for legitimate children).12 In the case of foundlings, the procedures for assigning godparents were quite different from the ‘normal’ ones, as there were neither parents or relations who could take it on themselves to look for suitable spiritual kin or who had an interest in creating comparatico connections. This makes 

  Although not on the same level as legitimate children, in the sixteenth century illegitimate offspring were still numerous and relatively well integrated. Their position, though, was to deteriorate rapidly with the consolidating of the Counter- Reformation. For the change in the perception of the illegitimate in the sixteenth century, see Prodi 1997. 10   The number of babies being abandoned increased from the sixteenth century, with a rapid acceleration in three periods: at the end of the sixteenth century with its devastating famines of 1590–1593, at the end of the eighteenth century and in the first half of the nineteenth. See Da Molin 1982; Palombarini 1993; Hunecke 1989. 11   The data for Ivrea and Voghera refer to the same chronological periods as those used previously: 1473–1562 and 1534–1562 respectively. 12   In Ivrea, illegitimate males had 66.7 per cent of untitled godfathers and none chosen from the seigneurs, compared with 52 per cent and 27.3 per cent respectively for legitimate males. Almost 100 per cent of the godparents of illegitimate females were untitled, compared with 50.4 per cent untitled and 27.3 per cent from seigneurs for the legitimate girls. At Voghera 76.2 per cent of the godfathers of the illegitimate males came from the untitled classes and merely 9.5 per cent from the seigneurs, with 62.2 per cent and 29.19 per cent respectively for the legitimate males; for the females there are no marked differences between the legitimate and illegitimate.

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

147

them a particularly interesting case,13 both for the customs that arose to remedy this problem and regarding the strategy for selecting godparents. For this reason, I shall now go into it in more detail. The spiritual kinship connections of foundlings were potentially even more important than for other infants. They did not have the usual natural parents, unless they were rediscovered after an unexpected recognition. Once they were adults, they might create links of affinity through marriage, but in their early years their only formal kinship relations were those with their godparents.14 It is important, therefore, to ascertain if and how the abandoned infants were really integrated into the complex network of spiritual ties that united members of each community or whether if, already deprived of their natural kinship, they also suffered from deprivation on a ‘spiritual’ level. It will be remembered that the Church held that the principal function of godparents was to supervise the correct Christian education of godchildren. This role, however, was rarely taken very seriously, and other ‘non-official’ duties of godparents were thought to be more important. In the case of abandoned children, it is particularly important to establish whether godfathers and godmothers may not only have taken on the responsibility of ensuring a Christian education but looked after the children as well in their parents’ place. Perhaps in certain cases we can suppose that a form of actual adoption originated from the relationship of spiritual kinship. It is clear that, in order to have a role in the life of the foundling, godparents had to be present, preferably in large numbers. In Table 7.6 I have recorded the average number of godfathers and godmothers ascribed 13   I have analysed in detail elsewhere the problem caused by ascribing a name and by the selection of foundlings’ godparents (Alfani 2007b). 14  Usually, foundlings were baptized using a special formula expressing doubt: there was a fear, in fact, that they had already been baptized, and the sacrament could not be repeated. For example, the Diocesan Synod of Milan of 1571, which I discussed in Chapter 5, made it necessary to use for foundlings the formula ‘si tu es baptizatus, ego te iterum non baptizo; et si nondum es baptizatus, ego te baptizo’; the norm was accepted by the Provincial Council of 1573 (AEM, vol. II, coll. 242–244 and 850). These conditional (sub condicione) baptisms, like the supplementary ceremonies or rites in which it sufficed to complete in Church a baptism celebrated in an imperfect way, usually an emergency, caused problems on account of the identification of the ‘true’ godparents. In cases where the formula expressing doubt was used, the baptism, if it had already taken place, was not repeated; it can be assumed that, given the absence of the sacrament, no spiritual kinship was instituted, but the opinion of the canonists on this question is not clear. Moreover , if the circumstances of the first baptism were unknown, the alleged godparents who had attended the second baptism certainly had to respect all the matrimonial bans connected to spiritual kinship. The presence of godmothers and godfathers at baptisms celebrated sub condicione was as necessary as at the ‘normal’ ones, as there was doubt whether children had been baptized. See for this Torquebiau 1937; on the supplementary ceremonies, see Gourdon 2003.

148

Fathers and Godfathers

to foundlings in the four communities for which I have sufficient data: Cesena, Mirandola, Ravenna and Voghera. In order to avoid excessively reducing the size of the samples of foundlings, already small, I have examined male and female infants together; in the case of foundlings, evidence of discrimination by sex is even more tenuous than for legitimate children. To facilitate my analysis I have compared the relative figures for foundlings with those referring to baptized infants as a whole, to the children of seigneurs and to children of untitled parents. The number of godfathers and godmothers progressively decreases as we descend the social ladder.15 Everywhere the children of seigneurs have more godparents than children from untitled parents, though the situation of godmothers is more confused. And everywhere foundlings have fewer spiritual kin (both godfathers and godmothers) than other classes, except for Voghera, where the total absence of godmothers puts children on a par irrespective of their origin. The norm seems to reflect a tendency for the number of godfathers and godmothers to decrease at the same rate as a decrease in social ranking; however, going from the untitled to foundlings, the process seems to accelerate sharply. In Ravenna, for example, it goes from 1.57 godfathers on average for the seigneurs to 1.01 for the untitled and just 0.13 for abandoned children; the trend, though less marked, is the same for godmothers. Ravenna stands out among the cases examined, because most of the foundlings baptized there have no spiritual kin: almost 82 per cent of the abandoned children have neither godfather or godmother. This situation appears problematic from a theological and pastoral point of view (will a child without a family of flesh and blood be reborn in Christ without a spiritual family?). It is probable that this persisted only because of the state of relative confusion and deregulation of customs of godparenthood that continued until the first part of the sixteenth century. When, after the Council of Trent, a limit was put on the number of godparents at baptism, in localities like Voghera, where godmothers were absent, very soon one was given to all the newborn infants to counteract the tendency to reduce spiritual kinship ties. It is significant that this change in customs also involved abandoned children, who, like all the others, were given a godmother. In Ravenna a survey on baptism celebrated in 1600 has shown that at the time foundlings always had at least one spiritual kin (usually only a godmother), in accordance with the Tridentine decrees.

15

  Tom Ericsson (2000) reached similar conclusions for the Swedish town of Umeå in the years 1850–1855 (as will be recalled, in many Protestant areas multi-godparent customs still survive). The children of middle classes had on average 6.4 godparents per baptism, the shopkeepers 5.2, the craftsmen 4.8 and so on, down to the farmers who had 3. The author does not give data concerning godmothers, and cites no cases of abandoned children.

Table 7.6

Ranks of fathers and number of godfathers and godmothers per baptism All baptized

Children of seigneurs

Children of untitled

Foundlings

Average number of godfathers

1.26

1.36

1.25

0.31

Average number of godmothers

1.22

1.04

1.29

0.90

Number of baptisms

743

113

487

29

Average number of godfathers

1.11

1.57

1.01

0.13

Average number of godmothers

0.39

0.36

0.42

0.18

Number of baptisms

1,365

259

894

55

Average number of godfathers

2.18

2.45

2.13

1.90

Average number of godmothers

–

–

–

–

4,092

692

3,135

29

1.20

1.31

1.13

1.03

Cesena (1555–1557)

Ravenna (1555–1557)

Voghera (1534–1562)

Number of baptisms Mirandola (1482–1562) Average number of godfathers Average number of godmothers

1.21

1.21

1.20

1.05

Number of baptisms

8,389

1,041

6,267

320

Ranks of fathers compared with ranks of godfathers

609

58.8

10.3

24

6.9

9

66.7

0

22.2

11.1

9.4

0.3

81.7

8.6

900

53.3

0.7

41.9

4.1

7

57.1

28.6

14.3

0

6.4

4

83.1

6.5

7,084

46.6

10.6

38.5

4.3

330

66.4

16.4

11.5

5.8

0

0.9

97.2

1.9

555

9.2

1.6

88.7

0.5

40

25

7.50

67.5

0

21.4

8.7

69.9

0

6,682

75.6

7.7

16.7

0

55

78.2

10.9

10.9

0

2.3

0.3

97.1

0.3

2,064

43.7

3.1

53

0.3

86

58.1

3.5

38.4

0

Masters (%)

Clerics (%)

13.1

Untitled (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Total godfathers

64.7

Clerics (%)

3.3

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Masters (%)

19

Untitled (%)

Untitled (%)

Ravenna 1555– 405 1557 Mirandola 1484– 1,380 1562 1600– 798 1609 Voghera 1534– 1,695 1562 1590– 645 1604

Foundlings

Clerics (%)

Cesena 1555– 153 1557

Children of untitled Seigneurs (%)

Total godfathers

Children of seigneurs Years

Total godfathers

Table 7.7

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

151

If the changes following the Council made a difference to discrimination against foundlings, did they ever achieve equal or almost equal status with legitimate children? Clearly, to answer this question the social rank of the godparents must also be taken into account. In Table 7.7 I use the usual division into classes, comparing foundlings with the children of seigneurs and the untitled. I only have at my disposal data for Mirandola and Voghera, which can be used to compare the situation before and after the Council of Trent. Even if we take the rank of godparents into consideration, children of seigneurs are still in a privileged position compared with those of the untitled, and towards the lowest levels of society the latter have an advantage over foundlings. Before the Council foundlings always had the highest percentage of untitled godparents and the lowest number of seigneur godparents. If we look at the children of seigneurs, the ranking is reversed. As for clerics, there are no appreciable differences in their presence at baptisms of infants belonging to the various classes. Variations, though, are to be found between communities; it will be recalled that not everywhere were clerics allowed to be godfathers. Interestingly, records do not show a surplus of godfathers from the clergy among foundlings. Presumably, the problem of how to provide them with spiritual kin was solved before the Council of Trent (while it was still possible to choose many) by decreasing the number of godfathers reserved for them. After the Council clerics tended to be excluded from godfatherhood almost everywhere in northern Italy (Alfani 2004b). The Council of Trent, by compelling parents to reduce the number of godparents, encouraged a trend towards polarization and verticalization in the godparenthood relationship, at least if we look at the lower classes. On the basis of data available for Voghera and Mirandola it would seem that foundlings were part of this process; for them the percentage of titled godparents increased towards the beginning of the seventeenth century from 11.5 to 67.5 per cent at Mirandola and from 10.9 to 38.4 per cent at Voghera. However, a similar increase is also to be found for the other infants; while an apparent improvement in the situation of the foundlings hides the fact that discrimination continued to exist. I have already said that it is especially relevant to establish if the foundlings’ godparents played an important role in giving support and patronage. For this reason it is helpful to examine closely who the foundlings’ spiritual kin were. The case of Mirandola is interesting. A nominative reconstruction has made it possible to ascertain that the godmothers of foundlings were mostly figlie dell’ospedale (‘daughters of the hospital’), that is, its former inmates, or, perhaps, girls that still resided or worked there. In the years 1550–1562, out of a total of 111 godmothers of foundlings, 43 (39 per cent) were registered as daughters of the hospital,

152

Fathers and Godfathers

or can be safely identified as such in other registrations.16 In the three years 1611–1613, 15 out of 16 godmothers can actually be identified in this category (94 per cent). It is probable that the data concerning the first sample are considerably compromised by the impossibility of identifying with any degree of certainty some of the godmothers really as ‘daughters of the hospital’ (I have opted to be extremely cautious about them) and the situation may have been much nearer to that of 1611–1613. The fact that most of the godmothers of the foundlings of Mirandola probably had first-hand experience of being abandoned leads us to reflect on the role assigned to them by this particular local custom, which I failed to find in any other of the communities I studied. Was it a purely symbolic role that perhaps indicated a specific event or was it a good omen for the newborn infant? Here we can imagine the case of a godmother who had been a former foundling but was now married and well integrated into society. Or did it prefigure a kind of wardship (not only spiritual), a concrete commitment by someone who had made a success of life and could take responsibility for infants who found themselves in the same kind of difficulties she had experienced? The fact that many of these former foundlings reappear as godmothers in many baptismal records leads us to suppose that the attention given to each godchild must have been scant, even though the high mortality rate typical of these hospitals prevented an excessive increase in the number of ‘spiritual offspring’. It is also possible that it was simply the assigning of a godmother to a young inmate of the hospital or a former inmate who had remained there as part of the personnel. The choice of this type of godmother could have been dictated by convenience and might have had no symbolic meaning, nor might there have been any intention of becoming a ward. I did not find in any other communities practices similar to that of Mirandola. It would appear that the godmothers of the foundlings, while normally of humble origin, were not directly connected to the hospitals. The case of Cesena is partly an exception, where a significant number of the godmothers of abandoned children (about 24 per cent) are registered as balia (‘wet nurse’); in one case the registers are more explicit and refer to a dona balia del’ospedale (‘woman wet nurse of the hospital’). It is likely that these were wet nurses who had been entrusted with the newborn infant, and on becoming spiritual mothers received a kind of mandate that 16   At that time and in the communities studied, abandoned infants were given only a first name, with no surname. The foundlings who appear as godparents in the parish registers that I have consulted are identified usually as ‘(name) son of the hospital’ and sometimes with a nickname (which could take the place of or be added to the name). In the case of girls, if they were married, they are identified as ‘wives of’ or they directly acquire their husband’s surname.

NewBorn babies and Spiritual Kinship

153

went beyond the pay connected to their profession. Possibly it was hoped that in this way these women could be encouraged to keep their promise to look after the needy child. It is obviously possible, though unlikely, that practices similar to those found at Mirandola and Cesena were also to be found in the other communities examined, but this does not emerge because the registrations are incomplete. What was the attitude governing the choice of godfathers? At Mirandola, where godmothers were often ‘daughters of the hospital’, I did not find any similar trend regarding the males of the spiritual kin. Out of all the 108 godfathers of the foundlings baptized between 1550 and 1562, only two (el zopo de Sancta Maria, i.e. ‘the lame from St. Mary’ and messer Giuseppe de Sancta Maria) were in any way connected to the hospital; none of the 16 godfathers of the abandoned children baptized between 1611 and 1613 had any connection. It is evident, then, that the custom of choosing godmothers from among former foundlings had no equivalent among the godfathers. Among the godfathers the name of a priest (Don Albertino Guagnolino) recurred most (seven times). He was perhaps a mere ‘filler’ at the ceremony or he had a role in organizing the first phase of the infant’s ‘career’ as a foundling. Other people are listed who cannot be distinguished from the mass of godfathers who recur at all the baptisms celebrated at Mirandola, while the total absence of important personages is to be noted, including the members of the local seigneurial family, the Picos, and their principal employees. Altogether, the data available for the foundlings enable us to affirm that their connections with the overall network of spiritual kinship ties was not as advantageous as the other children’s. They had fewer opportunities for contact, as they had fewer godparents, and these were of a lower quality and had less influence; at Mirandola the custom of giving them a godmother chosen from among the inmates or ex-inmates of the hospital was perhaps a sign of social stigma. A less effective integration into the network of relationships based on spiritual kinship meant having less access to both non-material and material resources during their life. Without doubt, whatever the intention of those who took responsibility for the foundlings, as far as access to godparenthood was concerned they found themselves on the lowest rungs of the ladder of a hypothetical hierarchy of privilege. Disadvantaged at birth, abandoned infants and the illegitimate in general were also unfortunate at their ‘spiritual rebirth’ within the community. In proposing a hierarchy of privilege, it is useful to recapitulate what has emerged so far. Going from the most to the least privileged positions we find:

154 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Fathers and Godfathers

the firstborn male; the firstborn female; sons; daughters; illegitimate children; foundlings.

In part this hierarchy reflects well-known positions of privilege: in particular for the firstborn children in comparison with their siblings; legitimate children compared with illegitimate; infants in the care of parents and relations vis-à-vis foundlings.17 However, if we look closely at the measure of the privilege granted to each, it emerges that a traditionally privileged category, the male descendants, compared with their female counterparts, did not occupy a superior position. The partially counter-intuitive nature of the hierarchy of privilege proposed here derives from the presence of both certain and uncertain elements. When it was possible to know exactly the personal details of the infant, as with order of birth and legitimacy, the attribution of godparents followed the logic of the usual favours accorded in the society of the ancien régime. Where there was uncertainty (the sex of the infant, unknown up to shortly before the baptism), the details of the ‘strategies of godparenthood’ were made, perforce, blindly, and the limited differences found between the two sexes correspond to the limited room for manoeuvre enjoyed by the parents of the baptized to find in extremis an answer to what they had planned. The link between the characteristics ascribed to the infant and the trend in the provision of spiritual kin will be of help in the next and following chapters in analysing the strategies used in the selection of godparents before and after the Council of Trent.

17

 Lucienne Hubler (1992) studied the case of Vallorbe, in the Vaud region in Switzerland, and has found that between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries illegitimate children were not the only ones to be discriminated against. There was discrimination also in the case of those newborn children who, because of their weak state of health when they came into the world, were feared to be likely to die soon after baptism and on whom it was therefore useless to ‘waste’ prestigious godparents. My data do not allow me to investigate this form of discrimination.

CHAPTER 8

Godfathers and Godmothers: The Case of Ivrea So far I have analysed godparenthood from the point of view of fathers of newborn babies presented at baptism. I asked how many godfathers and godmothers the fathers chose, from what strata of society they selected them and how far the parents’ choices were affected by the change in legislation and the personal details of each child. In my analysis godparents have been treated as passive subjects, from time to time chosen either to take part in baptismal ceremonies or excluded from them. Only fleetingly have I mentioned that the children’s parents not only had to make a choice but also had to obtain the consent of those selected as godparents; this consent could be refused, or if the request was too insistent it could be judged inappropriate. Consequently, the different provision of spiritual kin for infants according to their sex, order of birth and different legal conditions can be explained as part of a wise long-term strategy designed not only to protect the infants themselves, but also and, above all, to maximize the benefits that could accrue from the comparatico relationship. The time has come to consider godparenthood from the point of view of the godparents themselves. Who were they? What were their obligations towards their godchildren and their compari? If they had obligations, why did they agree to undertake them? Did they themselves have an interest in establishing a comparatico relationship and if so, is it possible to identify strategies or ‘careers’ in godparenthood? To some of these questions I have already partly supplied answers. For example, it is clear that as comparatico was a symmetrical relationship, the godfather’s interests in forming the relationship partially overlapped those of the father of the baptized – ‘partially’ because ‘who chose whom’ is crucial. The change in perspective, however, will enable us to extend the discussion on issues already dealt with, and to tackle some completely new ones. In the next chapter, having examined the sensitive question of the specific characteristics of godparenthood as an instrument of social alliance, I will put together the two perspectives (the father’s and the godfather’s), showing how the combination of the motivations and aspirations of parties with quite different characteristics was realized and what the results were.

156

Fathers and Godfathers

The move from fathers to godfathers as the object of our study is not a mere change in perspective; we have to resort to different methods and techniques. It is no longer sufficient to limit ourselves to considering nonnominative data such as the number of godfathers and godmothers and their social rank. In order to follow a godfather in his ‘career’, in other words through the course of his life from the time when his willingness to take part in baptisms is confirmed, it is necessary to be able to use nominative data that allow us to establish links between different baptismal registrations. However, to have at our disposal suitable information to reconstruct the parties’ motivations, sources other than baptismal registers have to be taken into consideration. Nominative techniques of this kind require a considerable quantity of data and involve significant problems in both their transcription and their elaboration. For this reason, I will concentrate on one case, Ivrea, for which I have set up an ample prosopographic database, which I have called Eporedia (the Latin name for Ivrea). This has, at the moment, about 36,000 nominative registrations. I will not go into details here of the characteristics of the database, nor into the techniques of the nominative analysis used. I will merely note that I constructed Eporedia using disparate sources (baptismal and marriage registers, property tax registers (estimi), notary deeds, censuses), with the main intention of studying relationships of spiritual kinship and other weak relationships, such as between neighbours and between bridal couples and the witnesses to marriages. To obtain a comparison with Ivrea, I also constructed a prosopographic database for Azeglio, a small village in the countryside near Ivrea. This second database includes only baptismal registrations, and covers the years 1543–1599. The 1,681 baptisms of this period were attended by altogether 2,848 godfathers and 2,269 godmothers. The comparison between the city and the adjacent village makes it possible to enhance the investigation by highlighting eventual differences in the models of godparenthood (before the Council of Trent both communities adopted type 1 model, the pure multi-godfather). These differences can be attributed to differences in social, economic and environmental conditions. A thorough analysis also requires a better knowledge of the context. So, to begin, I will give some information about Ivrea, paying particular attention to the economic and social situation of the town in the sixteenth century, circumstances that were closely linked to the events in which it was an important player.

 

  About the prosopographic approach, see Stone 1971, 1981.   See Alfani 2004a.

Godfathers and Godmothers

157

Ivrea is situated in north-west Piedmont on the banks of the River Dora Baltea, where the Aosta Valley joins the plain. Its geographical position was a key feature in the birth and development of the city, which since Roman times had been an important junction of highways and commercial routes, and was the head of a network of roads that communicated with Rhaetia and Gaul. During the Middle Ages goods in transit from one side of the Alps to the other had to pass through Ivrea, and on these the local government could levy tolls. The city’s favoured position also boosted local productive activities (Tafel 1974). Ivrea passed into the hands of the Dukes of Savoy in 1313, which marked the beginning of a new period in the history of the city, and the end of the rule of the bishops. Among the Savoy possessions, Ivrea maintained its importance and around 1377 had an estimated population of 5,300. It was one of the largest towns in the Duchy (Beloch 1994, p. 578) and became a stronghold of great strategic importance in the context of the sixteenth-century struggles between Francis I and Charles V for domination over Italy, as in the wars of the next two centuries. The estimates quoted by Karl Julius Beloch (1994) suggest that the population in 1571 amounted to only 3,031 inhabitants, which by 1612 had increased to 4,467. The data obtained from the baptismal registers also confirm that in the sixteenth century population growth came to a halt (Alfani 2003b). The reason for this crisis, from which it seems Ivrea was unable to recover, can be traced to the so-called ‘Wars of Italy’, when the French and the Spanish fought for supremacy over the Italian peninsula. The first phase of the war, up until the Peace of Cambrai in 1529, did not touch Ivrea. The city was first occupied in 1535 when, with a renewed outbreak of hostilities, the city surrendered to the French, who were advancing to take possession of the Duchy of Milan. The Emperor, Charles V, reacted by taking the war directly into France, forcing the French to suspend their advance and to abandon some of their positions. Among others they withdrew from Ivrea, which was then occupied for many years by the Spanish, as allies of the Dukes of Savoy. In 1544, the French returned and stormed the city, which, nevertheless, valiantly defended itself, forcing them to withdraw. However, following the    For further information about Roman and Medieval Ivrea, see Perinetti 1989; Benvenuti 1976; Robesti 1977; Cracco 1998.   On Ivrea in the Early Modern Age, see Perinetti 1989; Benvenuti 1976; Robesti 1977; Carandini 1927.    Hostilities broke out in 1494 when the King of France, Charles VIII, invaded Italy, and only finally came to an end with the Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis (1559). The best-known phase of the conflict is probably that which saw the war between Francis I of France and the Emperor Charles V of Hapsburg. For a detailed account of these events, see Fueter 1932.

158

Fathers and Godfathers

siege, the Spanish governor, Cristoforo Morales, fearing the return of the French, and seeing how they had taken cover in the dwellings outside the walls, gave orders to destroy three densely populated suburbs, the centre of Ivrea’s manufacturing activity, some of which were never to recover. There was also a sharp decline in the population due to the fact that many, left without homes, moved elsewhere, sometimes for good (Benvenuti 1976). In 1554 the French, under the command of Marshal Brissac, returned for the third time and laid siege to the city. The governor Morales, realizing that they could not resist the overwhelming forces, negotiated surrender the day after shelling began, and with his garrison abandoned the city. With the Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis (1559), hostilities finally came to an end and Ivrea became once again part of the Duchy of Savoy. The war, however, had radically changed the city. Whole districts had been razed to the ground; some manufacturing activities, among which was the production of cloth, had been abandoned for good, and many families had left the city. Although the end of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the seventeenth century were relatively tranquil periods for Ivrea, the city now progressively began to lose its importance. Between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, society in Ivrea was dominated by a small elite, whose original nucleus was made up of families that provided the members of the Colleges of Judges and Notaries; the last significant change in the distribution of power took place concurrently with the surrender to the Savoys, which privileged their supporters to the detriment of the followers of the Marquis of Monferrato (Tafel 1974). At the beginning of the sixteenth century, the property tax registers of Ivrea indicate a remarkable concentration of wealth: in 1518, the wealthiest 10 per cent of the population owned about 33 per cent of the value of the property registered, compared with the 0.8 per cent owned by the poorest 10 per cent. In 1544, this discrepancy increased, as the richest 10 per cent possessed more than 40 per cent of the registered property, while the poorest 10 per cent owned only 0.5 per cent (Alfani 2002). It was, however, a situation that was common to other cities in the ancien régime. In circumstances like these of social and economic inequality the question of who among the population of Ivrea were godparents takes on a new meaning. Was godparenthood a social role equally accessible to everyone, or did some manage to control ‘from within’ the way it functioned, proffering themselves as more desirable spiritual kin than others? To reply to these questions it is necessary to take an ‘aerial view’, as it were, of the network of spiritual kinship relations and consider whether the network uniformly linked individual inhabitants, or whether certain people had more connections, and if so who were they?

Godfathers and Godmothers

159

To find out if there were people who recurred as godparents in the registrations it is necessary to use techniques involving nominative investigation. Their complexity makes it advisable to concentrate on samples of baptisms, rather than on all the registrations, and for this reason I will take the baptisms celebrated in the parish of S. Ulderico in the three-year periods 1482–1485, 1544–1547 and 1592–1595. In those years respectively 166, 92 and 87 different people are registered as godparents. I followed their activity as godparents throughout the entire period for which I have the transcriptions of names in the registrations (1473–1616) for the territory of the parishes of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio. In this diachronic perspective it is necessary to take into account changes in legislation and in institutions, as in 1482–1485 and in 1544–1547 the traditional godparenthood model in use in Ivrea was type 1 (pure multi-godfather), while in 1592–1595 the change to model 5 (the couple model) had been completed. Table 8.1 records for each sample the percentages of godfathers who appear only once in the registrations in the period 1473–1616 and those who appear two, three or more times. I have put under one heading those who attended 10 or more baptisms. For the moment, godmothers will not be taken into consideration. I will return to them later. The data show that godfathers in Ivrea do not appear uniformly in the baptismal registrations of 1473–1616. Compared with a considerable number of people mentioned only once, in each period it is possible to see a more restricted set whose members very frequently took part in baptisms; from now on I will define them as ‘habitual godparents’. For example, for the godfathers who attended baptism in the two years 1544–1547, compared to the 50 per cent who appear at only one ceremony, 2.17 per cent attended 10 or more baptisms. The most striking case is that of a priest, Stefano Bono, who attended 25 ceremonies.



  S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio are the only urban parishes of Ivrea whose registers prior to the Council of Trent have been kept. About a third of the total population resided in the two parishes, which were adjacent to one another. The registers of S. Ulderico are kept in the parish archives of the Cathedral of Ivrea, those of S. Maurizio in the diocesan archive of Ivrea.    It is clear that the data presented in this and the following tables suffer from the fact that I was only able to use the registers of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio, the latter only after 1526. This has had undesirable consequences. It is possible, for example, that a person who appears only once as godparent in the registers of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio could in reality have been one of the principal godparents in Ivrea, but customarily invited to attend baptisms in other parishes. However, for my purposes, what is essential is to restrict the study to a subset of people who definitely took part in numerous baptisms. My data enabled me to do this. It is enough then to note that some figures, for example, those relating to the number of baptisms attended by each person, must be considered an underestimate.

Table 8.1 Occasional godfathers and habitual godfathers in Ivrea Samples

Total baptisms

Total godfathers

Distribution of godfathers for the number of baptisms attended in the years 1473–1616 (%) 1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10+

Average attendances

1482– 1485

69

166

66.27

12.05

10.84

1.81

3.61

1.81

1.20

1.20

1.20

0.00

1.86

1544– 1547

50

92

50.00

21.74

8.70

3.26

4.35

2.17

3.26

3.26

1.09

2.17

2.67

1592– 1595

106

87

32.18

16.09

17.24

10.34

4.60

8.05

3.45

2.30

1.15

4.60

3.75

Godfathers and Godmothers

161

If we compare the data relating to the three samples, a difference clearly emerges, highlighted by the average frequency with which godparents appear in the registrations. For the first two samples it is probably an ‘optical illusion’, due to the proximity of the first sample to the date of the beginning of the registrations (1473) and to a gap in the registers (1506– 1523); this means that it is impossible to observe many of the baptisms that might have been attended by godparents belonging to the 1482– 1485 sample. In a comparison between the second and third samples, the difference is probably due, at least in part, to a real evolution in local customs, another of the consequences of the Council of Trent. There is, in fact, a decline in ‘occasional’ godfathers, which leaves more room for the ‘habitual’ ones. The proportion of godfathers who attend only one baptism is drastically reduced, while the presence of those godfathers who often appear in registrations increases. The average number of ceremonies attended goes from 2.67 to 3.75. As only one godfather can be chosen at a time, parents concentrate on the more desirable candidates. This was an aspect of the verticalization of godparenthood after the Council. This relationship ever more clearly took on the features of a form of social patronage, at least in the case of the godfathers of the lower classes. In order to have a comparison with Ivrea, the data for Azeglio are recorded in Table 8.2. In this case I analysed two samples of baptisms, one prior to the Council (1551–1552) and one after it (1584–1586).



  It could be claimed that this result is due, at least in part, to the difference in the number of baptisms in the two samples (50 baptisms celebrated in 1544–1547 in comparison with the 106 celebrated in 1592–1595), as a larger number of ceremonies also implies more opportunities for godparenthood. However, more significantly than the number of baptisms covering the three-year periods, it is necessary to consider the average number of births during the much longer periods of godfatherhood careers. With regard to this, even though the population of Ivrea grew during the second half of the sixteenth century, the differences with the first half of the century are not as clear-cut as those between the samples; which may just be a matter of chance. Much more relevant than the increase in the number of births, which should have increased the number of opportunities for godfatherhood, is the actual decrease in the number of godfathers, which drastically reduced godfatherhood opportunities. If, therefore, factors tending to reduce numbers of godparenthoods prevail, the careers of godfathers, which at the same time increased in both intensity and length, can only be explained as a process of selection and cannot be ascribed to distortions due to the size and composition of the samples studied.    A small number of people were excluded from the data recorded in this table, because the problem of omonimy made it difficult to reconstruct a godfatherhood career with any degree of certainty.

Table 8.2 Occasional godfathers and habitual godfathers in Azeglio Samples

Total baptisms

Total godfathers

Distribution of godfathers for the number of baptisms attended in the years 1543–1599 (%) 1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10+

Average attendances

1551–1552

72

77

19.48

3.90

2.60

7.79

1.30

3.90

5.19

5.19

3.90

46.75

12.23

1584–1586

58

55

29.09

16.36

1.82

5.45

1.82

3.64

5.45

1.82

0.00

34.55

8.91

Godfathers and Godmothers

163

In Azeglio, even more obviously than in Ivrea, the spiritual kinship ties concentrated on a few habitual godfathers. Of the godfathers present at the ceremonies celebrated in 1551–1552, almost 50 per cent recur at least 10 times out of the total registrations for 1543–1599. The figure is even more remarkable as many of them had probably started their career as godparents before baptisms celebrated in the parish were recorded. Undoubtedly, such a marked difference in comparison with Ivrea is in part due to the fact that for Azeglio, which had only one baptismal font, I have been able to check all the godparenthood activity of the inhabitants, that is, apart from the cases in which they took part in ceremonies celebrated in other localities. It is, however, practically certain that we are faced with different models of conduct, probably due to the different social, demographic, cultural and economic circumstances of the two localities. In Azeglio, a small agricultural village, everyone was related by blood and by spirit to everyone else. The presence of certain people at a large number of ceremonies made them catalysts in a close and continually replenished network of social solidarity. This obviously does not mean that all the inhabitants of Azeglio could become spiritual kin to the same extent and in the same way. Examining the connection between the number of fathers and the number of godfathers for the periods taken into consideration provides sufficient evidence. In 1551–1552, compared with 72 fathers, of whom only 63 are different,10 we find 218 godfathers, of whom only 85 are different, whereas in 1584– 1586, compared with 92 fathers, of whom only 80 are different, there are 95 godfathers, of whom only 63 are different. The second sample proves particularly significant as it corresponds to a model of godparenthood, the couple model, that tends to result in the overall number of godfathers matching that of the fathers. The fact that the 80 fathers present in the registers of the time availed themselves of only 63 godfathers shows that at Azeglio the number of those who ‘required’ godparenthood was more than those who ‘practised’ it. As it was customary for many of the godparents to attend many ceremonies, even if the sample were to be enlarged, the difference between the number of fathers and that of godfathers would only increase. Although there are some differences, in both communities and in all the periods studied there is clearly a small group of people who appear at baptisms considerably more frequently than average.11 In Ivrea, for 10   Some fathers, in fact, had more than one child baptized in the period under consideration, so they are counted only once. 11   Bernard Vincent (1988) reached similar conclusions analysing the case of San Nicolás of Granada. On the basis of the 322 baptisms celebrated in the years 1549, 1555, and 1560– 1562, he deduces that almost one fifth of the total number of godfatherhoods (17.6 per cent)

164

Fathers and Godfathers

1482–1485, the most striking cases are those of the nobiles Guglielmo Scaglia and Giovanni Cita, registered as godfathers in nine baptisms; for 1544–1547 the venerabilis dominus Stefano Borio, who appears 25 times, and for 1592–1595 the comendabilis Andrea Brosio, who took part in 27 ceremonies. At Azeglio, in the period 1551–1552, the most remarkable case is that of the priest Giovanni Sandiliano, who acted as godfather for 77 baptisms; and another priest, Giacomo Barberi, the curate, headed the attendances for 1584–1586, taking part in 72 baptisms. It is not easy to establish exactly what frequency of attendance at the ceremonies is to be regarded as an index of ‘habitual godfatherhood’, and it is clear that, whatever criterion is used, a certain degree of arbitrariness is inevitable. In the case of Ivrea, it seems to me that the most reasonable option is to define as ‘habitual godfathers’ those who attended at least three baptisms, of which there are 35 names for 1482–1485, 25 for 1544– 1547 and 45 for 1592–1595. The different situation in Azeglio suggests that the limit should be raised to five, of which there are 51 godfathers for 1551–1552 and 26 for 1584–1586. Who were these habitual godfathers? Were they people endowed with special characteristics, for example were they from the upper echelons, or were they equally distributed among all levels of society? To begin to answer this question, it is useful to resort, once more, to the distinctive title of rank and the usual division into four classes. Table 8.3 compares, period by period, the social composition of the whole group of godfathers and the subset of habitual godfathers. In each period examined, the group of habitual godfathers shows a decidedly different distribution per rank from the overall sample: the percentage of untitled godfathers is definitely inferior, while the percentage of titled godfathers (masters, and, above all, seigneurs) is much higher. In the case of clerics, the trend is not clear. We can see, however, that before the Council of Trent, they constituted an important part of the habitual godfathers but they tend to decline later, and almost disappear by the beginning of the seventeenth century. This process is part of the postCouncil trend to exclude clerics from godfatherhood, due to the reduction in the number of godparents present at baptism (Alfani 2004b).

centred on seven people, who took part in 10 or more ceremonies. If the survey is extended to those present at three ceremonies at least, it ensues that 18 people shared 182 godfatherhoods (29 per cent of the total). The godfather who was most popular is Alonso Ruiz, ‘butler’ to the parish, who, between 1549 and 1562, held at baptism more than 80 newborn infants, at a rate of five or six a year. San Nicolás, however, is a special case, as 90 per cent of the population was made up of moriscos who had recently converted to Christianity. With regard to this, see Chapter 2.

Table 8.3 Samples

Social position of the habitual godfathers of Ivrea Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

1482–1485

45.78

22.86

17.47

37.14

24.1

31.43

12.65

8.57

1544–1547

25.00

8.00

20.65

20.00

46.74

56.00

7.61

16.00

1592–1595

25.29

4.44

10.34

11.11

59.77

80.00

4.60

4.44

Table 8.4 Samples

Social position of the habitual godfathers of Azeglio Untitled (%)

Masters (%)

Seigneurs (%)

Clerics (%)

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

All godfathers

Habitual godfathers

1551–1552

76.62

78.43

14.29

11.76

5.19

5.88

3.90

3.92

1584–1586

67.27

61.54

12.73

15.38

16.36

15.38

3.64

7.69

166

Fathers and Godfathers

A very different situation is to be found at Azeglio (Table 8.4). If we turn our attention away from the city to the village, we can see there is no longer a clear distinction by rank between habitual godfathers and occasional ones. This can be explained on the basis of two factors: the limited social diversity of Azeglio, which meant that only a small proportion of the total population had titles, and the ‘absenteeism’ from godparenthood of the local feudal family, the Domini Azelii. Although they baptized 75 children in the village between 1543 and 1599, which altogether required the presence of 131 godparents, they themselves held the position on only 54 occasions. Besides, most of the godparents who attended the baptism of the offspring of the feudal nobility of Azeglio came from elsewhere; often they were feudatories in other localities. We can deduce that the position of the family in its own fiefdom made it necessary to keep the other inhabitants at a correct distance; while not totally refusing to enter a relationship of godparenthood, they did not demean themselves by too frequent attendance at baptisms. Returning to the case of Ivrea, where habitual godfathers are clearly different for social rank from the overall sample, this trend grows if the survey is progressively narrowed to those who appear as godfathers more often. This means that there is a positive correlation between social rank and the frequency of attendance at baptism. If, when examining the aggregate, it is sufficient to reconstruct the godfathers’ positions in society based on titles, it is not entirely satisfactory when going into more detail. A question which begs an answer is what the occupation of these habitual godfathers was, as their different jobs also imply that they fitted into society and the network of local relationships in a different way. In the case of Ivrea, the Eporedia database also includes data taken from sources such as property tax registers and censuses, which, despite the difficulty in setting up certain nominative links between different sources, make it possible to discover the most common occupations among the habitual godfathers, in particular for those of the period 1592–1595.12 Notaries are to be found at the top of the list. Together with dottori di leggi (lawyers), they were the principal components of the elite of Ivrea. Their ponderous presence confirms the impression that the hierarchal position of habitual godfathers was considerably higher than that of the whole set of godfathers. Some of the people who appear most often in the libri baptismorum were notaries, like Gerolamo Alberti, godfather 12

  The sources are the registro degli estimi (a property tax register) of 1466; the registro degli estimi of 1487; the registro degli estimi of 1544–1550; the registro degli estimi of 1594; the sommario of the registro (the summary of the register) of 1593; the censimento (census ) of 1613. All these sources are kept in the historical archive of the city of Ivrea, category 11 (catasto) and 14 (censimento).

Godfathers and Godmothers

167

at 25 baptisms; Andrea Alberti, 13 baptisms; Alessandro Orengiano and Giovanni Antonio Rapis, each present at seven ceremonies.13 As well represented as lawyers were clerics and merchants. As can be seen from Table 8.3, the clerics were a relatively small but very important component among the habitual godfathers. For example, in Azeglio the godfathers who recur the most were all from the clergy, and were probably in demand for the number of their acquaintances as well as for their institutional importance. Among the merchant godfathers, we find some of the richest citizens of Ivrea. The only craft that produced numerous habitual godfathers was that of the shoemakers; in fact almost all the magistri who were often present at the ceremonies were shoemakers, while the presence of other craftsmen, i.e. tailors, tinkers, dyers, was sporadic. Overall, the data for Ivrea confirm the impression that among the most sought-after godfathers were people with influence, contacts and wealth. In the case of material wealth, I have assessed the wealth of the habitual godfathers, evaluating real estate recorded in property tax registers. On the basis of the register of 1544–1550, it appears that compared with property valued on average at 134 soldi for all those who declared ownership, the habitual godfathers possessed 364; the register for 1594 shows a ratio of 130 to 253, while in the census of 1613 there emerges a ratio of 123 soldi to 250.14 In short, it can be deduced that the wealth of habitual godfathers was two or three times that of the ‘average’. Now that the socio-economic characteristics of habitual godfathers have been clarified, within the constraints imposed by our sources, we must ask what their activity was as godparents. Is it possible to trace some kind of pattern that indicates the elaboration of a definite ‘strategy of presences’, which mirrored the strategies of selection operated by the parents of the infants to be baptized? In other words, did the godfathers organize their activity as spiritual kin according to a system aimed at building up a kind of ‘career’ of godfatherhood?15 As we will see, the answer seems to be in the affirmative. As we are dealing with careers, we must first establish when they began. I have calculated the approximate average age of the ‘first godfatherhood’, 13  During the Modern Age, notaries held a special position in urban society; as well as being part of the elite, they had a role in social arbitration. See Dolan 1998. 14   The census included not only information on real estate, such as the property tax registers, but also credits and debts, and even the capitale dell’arte or ‘capital associated with trade’, and other possessions not registered. 15   Individual careers are a field of research that has been explored relatively little. Also, the notion of a ‘history of careers’ is not as clear as it might seem. For an overview, see Alfani and Guerzoni (2006).

168

Fathers and Godfathers

which in Ivrea was about 22 years and 2 months.16 The variance in ages is very small, as they go from the 19 years and 9 months of the dominus Bernardo Millano to the 24 years and 10 months of the magnificus dominus Teodoro Reverdino. The lower limit of 19 years and 4 months is significant, as it shows that the outset of the career tended to be the same for everybody, coinciding with the reaching of adulthood and therefore considerably later than the minimum age of godparenthood established by canon law: for example, the Fifth Provincial Council of Milan (1579), convened by Carlo Borromeo, sanctioned that those who were more than 14 years of age could be godparents. I reached similar conclusions for Azeglio, where the average age for the first godfatherhood is 22 years and 8 months. The variance in the ages, though, is considerably more as it goes from Gugliemo Bruzi’s 16 years and 11 months to Giacomo Bogoati’s 35 years and 5 months. To describe how godfatherhood careers developed, it is necessary to have some details about at least another two aspects: the entire duration of the career and the interval between the ceremonies. With regard to this, not all habitual godfathers can be considered equal, as the frequency of their services seems to vary considerably. So in Table 8.5 I have opted to give three series of measurements: those relative to the godfathers who appear at least three times, at least five and at least seven times. It is obvious that this way of proceeding involves a progressive restriction in the set examined, but it also enables us to focus progressively on those who mainly carried out their role of godfatherhood within an observable area, that is, within the parishes of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio in Ivrea and not in other urban parishes or other localities. The measurements in the table are recorded in months and are estimates of the average duration of a career and of the average interval between the attendances at baptisms. If we progressively limit our observations to those who appeared more frequently in the registers, it can clearly be seen that the duration of careers is prolonged and services of godfatherhood become more frequent. For example, in 1544–1547, considering the whole sample, the careers of habitual godfathers extended for 18 years and 6 months, but if we limit the calculations to those who appeared at least seven times in the registers they averaged 22 years and 3 months. In the same years, 1544–1547, the frequency of attendance at baptism is one every 3 years and 5 months for the whole sample, and becomes one every 2 years and 2 months if we concentrate on those who are invited more often to the ceremonies. 16

  To obtain this figure, I examined together the three samples, taking the habitual godfathers for whom it was possible to trace the registration of baptism, and thus I was able to calculate how old they were when they first appeared as godfathers.

Godfathers and Godmothers

169

In Azeglio we find an analogous situation. Table 8.6 is similar to 8.5, but it seems preferable to concentrate on those who appeared more often compared with the frequency used for Ivrea, namely five, eight and 11 times. The durations of the careers of the habitual godfathers of Azeglio roughly correspond to those found in Ivrea; for confirmation, it is sufficient to compare the relative figures for those who took part in at least five ceremonies, which are available for both localities. Considerable differences are to be found only regarding the frequency of attendances during their career; at Azeglio they were higher. The career of a habitual godfather was, therefore, quite lengthy. In fact, if we take into account the fact that it usually began around 22 years of age and continued on average for about another 20 years, it is clear that in most cases it ended only with death or when permanent disability prevented the individual’s attendance at ceremonies, thereby discouraging parents from choosing them: how useful could a compare be if he might be about to die? However, with the passing of time, some godfathers appeared in the registrations far less frequently. At the same time, the names of their wives or unmarried daughters appeared more frequently as godmothers, which suggests that we are faced with a new aspect of the phenomenon of the replacement of godfathers with godmothers (I have mentioned this with regard to the introduction of godmothers after the Council of Trent in places such as Turin and Voghera). In other words, at a certain point in their careers, godfathers might have lost interest in personally attending baptisms, instead having their wives or daughters represent them. I will come back to this, but first it is worthwhile dealing more generally with the question of the ‘careers of godmotherhood’ as something different from those of godfatherhood. A premise is necessary. As will be remembered, when girls came into the world, they were ascribed godfathers and godmothers in roughly the same way as boys, and this even before the Council of Trent, when the number of spiritual kin attributed to each newborn baby was largely discretionary. Later, however, when they themselves reached the age to become godmothers, in comparison with their male counterparts they found themselves at a disadvantage. This lasted until the Council, as in some places the social norms in force practically prevented them from access to spiritual kinship. Even where it was possible to give godmothers to children, often they were considerably fewer in number than godfathers. The Council of Trent, inducing a generalized acceptance of the model of

Table 8.5 Duration and frequency of the careers of godfatherhood in Ivrea Samples

Average duration of the career of godfather (in months)

Average length of time between the ceremonies attended (in months)

3+*

5+

7+

3+

5+

7+

1482–1485

163

196

239

38

31

30

1544–1547

220

272

267

42

39

27

1592–1595

184

220

257

38

29

25

* Measures related to godfathers appearing at least three times in the records.

Table 8.6 Duration and frequency of the careers of godfatherhood in Azeglio Samples

Average duration of the career of godfather (in months)

Average length of time between the ceremonies attended (in months)

5+

8+

11+

5+

8+

11+

1551–1552

269.2

285.3

311.4

18.8

17.1

15.9

1584–1586

290.4

322.3

317.8

22.3

20.6

18.2

Godfathers and Godmothers

171

the couple godfather-godmother, helped to attenuate this discriminating situation. However, this does not mean that godmotherhood was not held to be far less important than godfatherhood.17 This circumstance poses a series of interesting questions that revolve round the more general problem of the freedom of action of women at the beginning of the Modern Era. We can ask ourselves, for example, how women became godmothers. Could they independently choose to become comare, or was their activity as godmothers conditioned by some sort of control by the men? This, though, is not the place to deal with this issue in depth except with regard to the problem of whether men’s and women’s godparenthood careers were coordinated. In the case of godmothers, it is also necessary to keep in mind that it is difficult to establish who were the real decision makers (Alfani 2006b). Using methods similar to those used for godfathers, I have reconstructed the stages in the career of godmotherhood. However, in the choice of the sample of godmothers, I have adopted different criteria from the ones used for godfathers. In fact, since in the case of women it is important to evaluate the part marriage played in controlling their access to spiritual kinship, I felt it was useful to concentrate on the women who married in the parishes of S. Ulderico or S. Maurizio in Ivrea between 1587, the year of the oldest records of marriages celebrated there,18 and 1600, in order to be able to have at my disposal a minimum of about 15 years in which to follow their godmotherhood activities. As will be recalled, my data on baptism go up to 1616. Altogether there were 231 marriages with such characteristics, but I felt it was better to reduce the sample further. As it was customary to marry in the parish of the bride, there is a risk that, because the women moved to the homes of their husbands, figures regarding godmotherhood appear 17

  If this trend seems to have prevailed, at least in central northern Italy, and probably throughout Europe, it is possible that in some areas the situation was different. At the moment there are no counter-examples available for the Modern Age, but for the twentieth century there is a model of godparenthood, carefully studied by Berardino Palumbo, where the godmother had a pre-eminent role in comparison with that of the godfather. At San Marco dei Cavoti, in the province of Benevento, it was the godmother who had to be present at each baptism (a godfather could be absent); it was she who established a special relationship with the godchild. This predominance of the godmother was based on beliefs connected to the rite: it was the godmother and only she who was believed to far nascere cristiano (‘bring into the world as a Christian’) the newborn infant; so her presence was essential. While the bond of comparatico with the godfather could be more ‘useful’, as a contemporary said: ‘The female is important in church, while the man, the male, is important outside, as compare’ (Palumbo 1991, pp. 126–134; pp. 153 ff.). 18   For S. Ulderico, I have used the register of marriages for 1587–1612 (parish archive of the Cathedral of Ivrea); for S. Maurizio, the register of marriages for 1588–1621 (diocesan archive of Ivrea, register of baptism of S. Maurizio).

172

Fathers and Godfathers

distorted. In other words, in the case of marriage to a ‘foreigner’, or to a resident of a parish of Ivrea not included in this study, the career of a godmother might unexpectedly seem to have been interrupted, or in some way have changed, after her marriage. To remedy this ‘mobility effect’, I imposed a second condition on the women in the sample, which was to have baptized at least one child at S. Ulderico or S. Maurizio. The prevailing custom was to have children baptized in the parishes where they resided. In this way, a sub-sample of 111 women was formed. It was not possible to study also the case of Azeglio because registers are not old enough. For all the women in the sample, I first calculated the beginning of activity as godmothers. The average age of ‘the first godmotherhood’ is 22 years and 7 months, slightly older than the 22 years and 2 months to be found for godfathers. It is interesting to note the existence of a precise lower limit, which was around 17–18 years of age; this is also consistent with the data regarding the men. The youngest godmother I traced was the noblewoman Vittoria, daughter of Augusto Ferreri and future wife of Cesare Mondano, who attended a baptism for the first time at the age of 16 years and 11 months. What was the status of the women when they started out on their career as godmothers? Were they still living with their parents, or were they already married and had they moved into their husband’s homes? Most of the godmotherhoods were in the hands of women already married. In fact, out of the total number of baptisms recorded on my database, if we compare the times when a woman is registered as filia (daughter) with those when she is registered as uxor or mulier (wife) ,19 the ratio is more than five to one in favour of the latter.20 From a qualitative point of view this is an important piece of information, which, however, does not yet say anything about the status of women at the outset of their activity as godmothers. If we restrict our study to the 78 women in the sample who appear in the capacity of godmothers on one or more occasions, it turns out that in only 32.5 per cent of the cases did the first godmotherhood precede marriage. Generally, then, godmotherhood was the responsibility of married women. It is possible, though, that the firmly held belief that intimacy between compari was a risk to their virtue might have contributed to discouraging young women from godmotherhood. Similar concerns seem to

19

  That is leaving to one side all those cases where the godmother is registered only with her surname, without any indication of kinship. 20   1,660 cases compared to 313. The cases when a married woman is registered as filia instead of uxor are extremely rare.

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173

have been commonplace, for example, among fifteenth-century Florentines (Klapisch-Zuber 1992) and are found in writings of the period. It is probable, however, that another factor was also important. Cases are relatively frequent when the first godmotherhood took place within one year before or after marriage. It is striking that in some cases the two events are almost simultaneous: Margarita Scala, for example, married Francesco Piconi on 30 July 1598, and on 27 August held at baptism Maria, daughter of Giovanni Domenico and Placenzia Mazia; or the aforementioned Vittoria Ferreri who, on 13 February 1590, after having held at baptism Margherita, daughter of Marco Antonio and Angela Strita, on 7 May married Cesare Mondano. Cases like these lead us to suppose that the first godmotherhood, insofar as it was a public event (baptisms being by no means the simple, private ceremonies that the Tridentine Church would have liked to impose), was also one of the signs that indicated that maturity had been reached. Like marriage, the first godmotherhood seems to have marked the onset of the phase of procreation in the girls’ lives, and, as such, was a kind of ‘rite of passage’ or rather a ‘rite of liminality’,21 which, however, not all girls experienced. Finally, while it may be true that, as a sign, the first godmotherhood had similarities with marriage, it was not, though, a marriage. In certain cases, and in particular those of the younger godmothers, it could have sanctioned the woman’s entry into the ‘marriage market’; that is, it was both an invitation to potential suitors to declare themselves and a starting point of an actual strategy to find the girl a husband. This is an intriguing question, and one that certainly requires further research.22 If, then, godmotherhood was the province of married women or, at least, those who were of a marriageable age, how did their careers develop after the initial experience? As in the case of godfatherhood, not all women could accede to godmotherhood with the same ease. Of the 111 women in the sample, about a third were completely excluded, as there is no record of them as godmothers in the registrations. At the other extreme, a limited number of women appear at baptisms far more frequently than the average; of the more than 58 per cent of the 310 godmotherhoods numbered among all the women in the sample, a mere 18 per cent of them 21

  The first godmotherhood can be considered a ‘rite of liminality’ as it marks the beginning of the reproductive state, yet marriage, and thus the social legitimacy of procreation, has not yet taken place. For rites of passage and of liminality, see Van Gennep 1909. 22   Van Gennep himself supports this interpretation. In much of France up until the midtwentieth century, being chosen as godfather or godmother for the first time was considered a great honour. In cases where the first godfatherhood or godmotherhood took place during adolescence, it was thought to be a good omen for a future marriage (and possibly of marriage between the godfather and the godmother). Van Gennep 1943, p. 9.

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attended five or more baptisms. The most striking case is that of the nobilis domina Gasparda Alberti, who in her capacity as godmother attended 24 ceremonies. Like godfathers, then, there were also ‘habitual godmothers’, mostly coming from the higher ranks of society. Compared with an average relating to the whole sample of 2.79 godmotherhoods for each woman, for titled godmothers it rose to 3.85, 64 per cent more than the untitled, for whom the figure falls to 2.35. It is worth noting that there was a category of women included in those without a title which seems to have played a vital role in godmotherhood, but which by chance is not represented in the sample studied: midwives. Women like Caterina Poleti, who figures 41 times as godmother in the baptismal registers of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio in Ivrea, probably hold the record for attendances.23 Often, however, their name is associated with urgent ceremonies, where the baby was at risk of dying before receiving the sacrament of baptism. The case of Poleti is an example. In 15 cases (37 per cent of the total) the priest records that Caterina baptized at home, ‘in domo’, but the ceremony was then completed in church (‘in ecclesia’), with a godfather and a new godmother.24 Sometimes, though, the presence of a midwife among the godmothers was the result of a definite choice on the part of the parents, usually, it seems, among the lower classes, which is why it is best to consider them case by case. In Table 8.7 the data relating to the career structure of the godmothers are recorded and are analogous to those recorded for godfathers (duration and frequency).

23   For certain aspects a similar situation is to be found in the nineteenth-century Icelandic villages studied by Gísli Á. Gunnlaugsson and Loftur Guttormsson (2000). In these communities the most popular godmothers were the midwives, who commanded respect for their knowledge and moral status and were nominated by the local Lutheran minister; for example, Ingibjørg Skaftadóttir held at baptism 30.3 per cent of the infants of Űtskálar between 1816 and 1845, becoming godmother to over 200 children, and the number was destined to grow in the years following 1845. The condition of godmothers in the Icelandic villages in the nineteenth century was surely very different from that of their sixteenth-century counterparts in Ivrea. 24   Putting aside the theological-legal problems raised by this kind of procedure, the fact remains that Caterina was not fully recognized as godmother.

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Table 8.7 Duration and frequency of the careers of godmotherhood in Ivrea Average duration of the career of godmother (in months)

Average length of time between the ceremonies attended (in months)

3+

5+

7+

3+

5+

7+

151

177

217

30

22

19

Also in this case, if we further limit our observations to godmothers who most frequently appear in the registers, there is an increase both in the duration of their careers and in the number of their attendances. In the case of women who are present as godmothers at least seven times, their whole career lasted more than 18 years, and on average they took part in baptismal ceremonies every 19 months. A comparison with the data related to godfathers shows that godmotherhood careers were on average slightly shorter but more intense. Rather than the differences, however, it is the similarities that should be emphasized. From the point of view of their structure, in fact, godmotherhood careers differ very little from those of godfatherhood, either from the age when they began or as far as the duration or frequency are concerned. Certainly the essential similarities between the careers of godmotherhood and godfatherhood can, at least partly, be attributed to the ‘equalizing’ effect of the Council of Trent. We can ask ourselves, though, whether it was a formal similarity, due almost inevitably to respect for the Tridentine rules, or if it was also real. This question takes us back to a previous one: was godmotherhood activity integrated with that of godfatherhood? If so, how? And was godmotherhood subordinated to godfatherhood? A first indication of the integration of the male and female networks of spiritual kinship can be seen in the overlapping of the families chosen to form comparatico relationships. Here I will limit myself to pointing out that, at least in Ivrea, the question of whether or not godmotherhood was distinct from the godfatherhood undertaken by fathers and husbands depended on decisions taken by each family. In fact I have encountered cases in which all the godmotherhoods were established with families where there were already, or where there were to be, godfatherhoods, as well as cases where this never happened, and all possible stages in between are also documented. As it is commonly accepted that the man was recognized as the head of the household, it can be assumed that it depended on her husband’s or her father’s view whether it was legitimate for a woman to attend baptisms and especially to take part in baptisms in

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families other than those with whom her husband had chosen to establish a spiritual kinship. In almost all the cases of overlapping, it is not only a question of coincidence of the families, but of the individuals, that is, both the husband and the wife attended the baptism of the children of the same person.25 So in the cases in which the woman did not have the chance of being godmother to families that differed from those of her husband, she became comare only of his compari. If we recall the jealousy of some husbands on account of the intimacy between their wives and the men with whom only the women were linked by spiritual kinship (I quote some cases from literature in Chapter 326), it is possible that this state of double spiritual tie27 reassured husbands, as with compari their wives were considered to be (almost) in safe hands. Caterina Picona, wife of Giovanni Giacomo Gabuto, with her attendance at 13 ceremonies, is one of the godmothers who appears most often, but who never establishes spiritual kinship with families with whom her husband has this kind of contact. He is also an habitual godfather, attending 10 baptisms. Cases like this might give the impression that spiritual kinship offered women room for autonomous action, at least for those who had access to it or whose husbands were not prone to jealousy. However, this might be a hasty conclusion, as in Ivrea it was usual to use spiritual kinship to create a network of relationships in a variety of sectors of the community, privileging various kinds of contacts. Besides, studying the career of godfatherhood, the impression is that the godmotherhood of wives and daughters is a means of prolonging the men’s own careers to an advanced age, when being personally present at ceremonies might have been difficult, for example because of some infirmity, or might have been unseemly. With regard to the second case, usually with age one gains prestige, simply on account of old age, of an increase in wealth, or by widening one’s circle of relationships. It is therefore possible that the position reached makes it necessary to keep a distance28 from people with whom, though, one wishes to enter a relationship. The men would then continue to take part in baptismal ceremonies, but only by ‘delegating’ a

25   Usually it was for different children. In fact, in Ivrea it is extremely rare to find a married couple as godmother and godfather at the same baptism. 26   For further examples, see Bandello, Novelle, 1, 34. 27  Of the couple with the compare. 28   The case already mentioned of the feudal family of Azeglio, who kept their subject community at a distance, makes it clear how the very absence of a relationship could serve to emphasize a difference in rank. It is worth noting that the more marked the difference, the less need to underline it, hence the possibility of establishing relationships of godparenthood between classes so distant that nobody could doubt their client–patron nature.

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daughter or a wife as godmother.29 Examining the ranks of the compari of habitual godfathers, it is not by chance that the more prestigious titles tend to be found in the last ceremonies they attend. The following is an example. The nobile messer Tommaso Alberti, with his attendance at nine baptisms, can rightly be considered among the habitual godfathers of Ivrea. His profession as an apothecary (aromatarius) guaranteed him an excellent income and a position of respect, even though he was excluded from the higher echelons of urban society. His career began on 27 February 1585, when he held at baptism Laura, daughter of a certain Giulio, whose surname is not registered, and of Brunetta. We do not know how old Tommaso was at the time, but it is plausible that he was quite young, as he was not to marry until five years later. His career continued for 22 years and 9 months and is marked by his attendance at nine ceremonies altogether, one about every 2 years and 6 months. The godfatherhoods do not appear to be particularly frequent, but if examined carefully, it can be seen that his attendance at baptisms was distributed very unevenly in the space of his whole career. In fact, after his first godfatherhood in 1585 and the second in 1587, between 1590 and 1595 Tommaso took part in five ceremonies, almost one a year. After 1595 there is a long gap until 22 February 1604, the date when he holds at baptism Vittorio, son of Giovanni Maria Ecclesia and Anastasia.30 It was, though, a special case. Giovanni Maria Ecclesia is the only person with whom Tommaso seems to want to establish a particularly close bond of spiritual kinship, having already attended the baptism of his daughter, Maria, on 27 December 1587. The baptism in 1604 was followed by an even longer pause than the previous one. Tommaso appears in the baptismal registers for the last time on 28 October 1610. In the meantime, on 28 May 1590, Tommaso takes as his wife Gasparda, daughter of Enrico de Henrioto. As I have mentioned above, she is a very active godmother, attending 24 ceremonies. We know nothing about her age nor when she began her career as godmother. We do know, however, that it blossomed after her marriage. Almost four years were to pass before she was allowed to hold a baby at baptism. On 13 March 1594, she became a godmother for the first time; her godson was Giorgio, son of Cesare de 29

  Fagerlund (2000) has also put forward a similar hypothesis.   As I have at my disposal data for only two of the urban parishes of Ivrea, it is possible that Tommaso was godfather at other fonts in the city, or in parishes of other communities. There is no way to overcome this problem, but as the women studied in the sample to which Tommaso’s wife Gasparda belonged had to be residents, we might suppose that most of the Albertis’ godparenthoods took place within the given area. It is probable that, in the case of Tommaso, there was actually a lengthy interruption, or at least a definite slowing down of his godfatherhood activities. 30

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Hierrio and Francesca. Gasparda was also to be godmother to a daughter of theirs, Angela, on 9 March 1597. Although it was late in starting, Gasparda’s brilliant career lasted 20 years and 9 months, and was characterized by the exceptional frequency with which the ceremonies occurred, about one every 10 months. In addition to Cesare and Francesca Hierrio, Gasparda created a particularly close relationship of spiritual kinship with another two couples, Pietro and Francesca Scala (with the baptisms of their sons, Antonio on 28 February 1604, and Giovanni Giacomo on 14 April 1606), and Gerolamo and Giacomina Episcopo (with the baptisms of Giovanni Battista on 28 November 1607 and of Maria on 12 December 1610). In only one case did her network of spiritual kinship relationships overlap her husband’s, the baptism of a son of Giovanni Battista and Ortensia Viglianchino on 22 October 1598 whose name is not mentioned. Tommaso had been godfather also to their firstborn, Ricolino, on 15 March 1593. Apparently there is little contact between Tommaso and Gasparda’s careers. Studying the frequency of the ceremonies, however, the picture is quite different. As already mentioned, the most active phase in Tommaso’s career ends in 1595. Gasparda’s career had begun the year previously and intensifies just when Tommaso stands aside; between 1596 and 1603 Gasparda attends seven ceremonies. During the year 1604, when Tommaso once more returns to the scene to attend the baptism of the son of his friend Giovanni Maria Ecclesia, his wife holds four newborn babies at baptism. Between 1605 and 1609, on the eve of Tommaso’s last baptism, she is present at the baptism of another six infants. Her career continues long after her husband’s until the baptism of Maddalena, daughter of Cesare and Giulia Occlepo. The frequency of the ceremonies is illustrated in Figure 8.1 Examining the pattern of the careers of the husband and wife, the impression we get is of a common purpose, which was to build as wide and diverse a network of spiritual kinship relationships as possible. We might assume that once he had, with difficulty, improved his social status, Tommaso wished to emphasize the rank he had acquired, distancing himself from those no longer considered his equals. At the same time, to safeguard relationships with friends and neighbours, he almost entirely delegated to Gasparda the job of managing the comparatico. However, alternative assumptions, such as a prolonged illness, are also possible.

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7RPPDVR

Fig. 8.1

































*DVSDUGD

The godfatherhoods and godmotherhoods of the Albertis

The question of the relationship between the careers of godfatherhood and godmotherhood is a very complex matter, which deserves further research. For the moment it is not possible to draw any definite conclusions, especially regarding the question of the autonomy and subordination of godmotherhood to godfatherhood. I will merely point out that generally women could be excluded from access to spiritual kinship, although in certain cases it might have been a self-exclusion, and that future research on family strategies is needed. Here, I mean ‘strategies of the couple’ and not ‘the family’ in the broader sense that involves the extended family. In fact, many features lead us to believe that, as it was a weak tie, comparatico enabled individuals to carry out strategies furthering their own relationships, which were not necessarily subordinate or complementary to those of their kindred. In this light, godparenthood is distinctly different from marriage. The notion of ‘strategies’ applied to the careers of godparenthood raises some problems. Obviously it was not possible to plan in detail careers of godparenthood, as to be a godparent it was usually necessary to be asked, or to come to an agreement on the matter. In other words, the networking strategies of godparents, and especially those of habitual godparents, came up against those of the infant’s parents, which still have to be analysed. The next chapter is dedicated to this issue. There I will try to give an overview of godparenthood as a ‘strategic’ instrument of social alliances, and to show how concrete results, that is, the composition of the list of godfathers and godmothers, particularly prior to the Council of Trent, depended on the interaction between different expectations and on the way the aspirations of the different kinds of players combined. First, however, it is necessary to deal with an important question, which up to now has been postponed. Why might it have seemed desirable

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often to take on the role of godparent? The role, in fact, implied an onus of responsibility. At a minimum, it was necessary to present gifts to the godchild at baptism, but there is reason to believe that often there were demanding obligations that could include assisting the child if they were to lose their parents prematurely, supporting them in critical moments such as at the beginning of their working life, or helping them at various times: by giving advice, providing a guarantee or even lending money, food or seeds. As well as the duties towards the godchild, among which was obviously the tutorage of their Christian education, there were those towards the compari: above all a duty of respect31 and of friendship, that necessitated doing something (addressing the compare with special formulas,32 providing support in cases of disputes,33 helping him with his own business activities34 etc.), or not doing something (desisting from or not initiating feuds with the compare and his relatives,35 not stealing from him etc.).36 It is clear that, for the obligations that he undertook when attending the baptism, the godfather received something in exchange, some form of recompense that encouraged him to accept the role. It is equally clear that only those who had the necessary qualifications could hope to secure the best godparents on the market. It is, though, safe to assume that, sometimes, holding a child at baptism meant a fulfilment of previous social obligations, ones that could not be evaded. In this case, it is not possible to speak of ‘acceptance’ of godparenthood, if not with reference to past events, about which we can, at least for the present, only speculate. It is a complex matter with many facets, as the very flexibility of godparenthood made it possible to pursue, from one time to another, different objectives, and also more than one goal at a time. Above all, being a godfather carried prestige; holding at baptism the local elite’s offspring or being able to create a large and faithful clientele of compari and godchildren from a lower rank certainly increased the respect that was due. As well as an increase in prestige, and to oversimplify the issue 31  On the subject of the obligations of respect between compari and for a thorough analysis of a local case, see Palumbo 1991. 32   Practices of this kind have been repeatedly observed, as for example Palumbo 1991, pp. 122–125 and Pitt-Rivers 1976a, pp. 112–114. 33   It is worth mentioning the research carried out by Vernier (1984) on the island of Karpathos. 34   See, for example, Sabean’s observations (1990) on the role of godparenthood in land transactions. 35   Cases of this kind have often been documented in the Balkans, for example by Hammel (1968). 36   See the examples mentioned by Gauvard (1993).

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grossly, a godfather had two alternatives: he could create a ‘patron–client’ tie or he could weave a close network of ‘friendly’ relationships. Whether one or other of these two ambitions prevailed depended in all probability on the relative ranks of the father and godfather. When the social position of the father was definitely inferior to that of the godfather, it seems likely that ii was a patron–client type of relationship. When the rank of the two was very similar, or if that of the father was slightly higher than that of the godfather, the relationship would be based on friendship. Simplifications aside, it is anyway evident that the situations themselves differed greatly. Here it is useful to go into more detail on the relationships involving patronage. When the baptismal gifts of the godfather and his contribution to the new relationships were such as to make it impossible for the child’s father to repay these favours with similar services, the asymmetrical nature of the tie ‘naturally’ tended to encourage the latter to take on the role as client. It is likely that it is not to be interpreted as a consequence of the mere perceptions of the father, of his ‘feelings’; rather it was the result of an almost automatic and semi-conventional process. In certain cases, asking a particular person to attend a baptism was clearly tantamount to a request to be accepted into the circle of his ‘clients’. Sometimes the desire to form a particularly close relationship was revealed by repeatedly giving the same godparent to one’s children. Although cases are documented where this kind of conduct is the norm,37 this cannot be said for Ivrea and Azeglio, where, however, it was not infrequent. Table 8.8 records some figures referring to Ivrea.38 There was a considerable incidence of repeated godfatherhoods out of the total number, which reached almost 20 per cent in the second and third samples. They are probably an indication of a kind of privileged relationship, one that was closer than usual, also because it was continually being renewed. This is confirmed by the fact that this relationship had an exclusive character; apart from only two cases (Francesco Gasseno and Cristoforo Sutor), fathers established a tie of repeated godparenthood with just one person. The most striking example is that of magister Martino Feletto, who held at baptism seven children of magister Michele Turino. The two were fellow-craftsmen, as they were both tailors. 37   For example, in eighteenth-century Neckarhausen (Sabean 1998, p. 24) or in the Balkans between the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries (Hammel 1968). 38   The figures for cases in which, following the premature death of a child, a brother born shortly afterwards is given the same spiritual kin have not been taken into consideration. But taken into account is the possibility that a given godfather was represented at the ceremony by his wife or a daughter, or in any case, a strategy was followed as a couple.

Table 8.8

Repeated godfatherhoods in Ivrea

Samples

Total

Number of repeated godfatherhoods

Percentage of the total

1482–1485

192

17

8.85

1544–1547

184

35

19.02

1592–1595

237

45

18.99

Table 8.9

Godfatherhood and ‘systems of reciprocity’ in Ivrea

Samples

Godfathers included in systems of reciprocity (%)

Incidence of reciprocity in the total services of godfatherhood (%)*

1482–1485

18.75

11.54

1544–1547

50

14.08

1592–1595

41.67

34.37

* The figures apply only to the services of godfatherhood of godfathers included in at least one system of reciprocity.

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Another interesting case, in which the godfather’s motive seems to be to create or consolidate a friendship, is when two people exchange services of godfatherhood, each attending the baptisms of the children of the compare. In Table 8.9 the figures of these ‘systems of reciprocity’ are given for Ivrea.39 A considerable number of godfathers is included in at least one system of reciprocity. The reduction in the frequency of cases that can be seen between 1544–1547 and 1592–1595 is particularly interesting. It could be an indication that the passage from type 1 model (pure multi-godfather) to type 5 (couple model), which resulted in a contraction in the total number of godparenthoods, brought about a crisis within the complex system of services and counter-services. However, the simultaneous increase in the percentage of godfatherhoods characterized by reciprocity shows that it was not so much an aversion to what had become a difficult social practice, as a problem of choice and ‘selectivity’. Even though some continued to cultivate this kind of privileged relationship, a growing percentage of godfathers appear to be completely excluded from it. These systems of reciprocity are of particular significance anthropologically, insofar as they are comparable to systems of gift and counter-gift, whose importance has often been stressed.40 Moreover, reflecting on particular kinds of gifts, those given at baptism, it is possible to speculate that systems of reciprocity also had the advantage of reducing the burden of godparenthood. It is likely, in fact, that in these cases the value of the gifts tended to balance out, so that, apart from the symbolic significance of the exchange, the amount of each individual’s resources remained essentially unaltered. It is possible to go beyond this and speculate that there was a kind of ‘hierarchy of burdens’ in the relationship of godparenthood. At the bottom level were the relationships of reciprocity described above, through which financial burdens could be limited: what had been received could be repaid in equal measure and in similar ways. On a higher level are relationships whose objective was to generate friendships between people of an approximately corresponding class, in which, however, godparent services are supplied by only one party. The movement of the resources, in the sense of baptism gifts, goes from the godfather to the father of the baptized; though it is probable that the latter repaid in some way, through intangible gifts such as making his own network of relationships available to his friend. The situation radically changes at the third level of the hierarchy, which corresponds to those cases in which extremely wealthy 39   Those who had no children, or who had them baptized at fonts other than that of S. Ulderico are not recorded in the sample of godfathers. 40   It is sufficient to recall Mauss 1923–1924, but see also Alfani and Gourdon 2006.

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godfathers offer such valuable gifts as to make it difficult for fathers from lower classes to reciprocate in kind. The asymmetry typical of this kind of relationship, which created a kind of debt on the part of the father to the godfather that could never be paid off, constitutes the basis of patronage. Both the second and third levels of the hierarchy included a kind of sublevel, characterized by a greater flow of resources from one side to the other. This is the case of the same godfather holding several children of a particular father at baptism. For the moment, however, this ‘hierarchy of burdens’ is a mere supposition. Our knowledge of the nature of the gifts of baptism in the societies of the ancien régime is both insufficient and limited to the members of the upper classes. Therefore it is not possible to make any assertions on the subject with a reasonable degree of certainty. Some examples will help to clarify the complexity of the system of relationships that were progressively established in the course of a godparenthood career. A reconstruction of individual careers has made it necessary to formulate some hypotheses but, to avoid overcomplicating the description, I will not make explicit reference to them. The previous pages can be consulted for all the sensitive and controversial points. The nobilis Ludovico Capra begins his career as godfather in February 1480. His date of birth is unknown but is certainly before the oldest registrations (1473). He almost certainly resides in the parish of S. Ulderico as the twelve children he has with his wife Costantina are baptized there. His activity as godfather continues for 22 years, up until March 1502. Thanks to the offices of his wife, Ludovico is able indirectly to make his presence felt up until August of the following year. In that period, he himself attends six ceremonies. In five cases the fathers who secure his kinship are of a decidedly lower class: a magister and four untitled. The strategy that he puts into practice as godfather, therefore, seems to be aimed at creating forms of patronage. Ludovico, however, creates a special relationship with the nobilis Gugliermo Guglo, whose son Ludovico he holds at baptism (perhaps it is not by chance that the names of the godfather and godson are the same), and whom he invites to the baptism of his daughter Maria. The older he gets, the more he delegates his wife Costantina to take his place at baptism; on the other hand, the requests become far more numerous than in the past. It would seem that the reasons for delegating his wife are to be found in the desire ‘to save himself’ for more important occasions (in 1489 it is Costantina who attends the baptisms of the child of someone untitled and of a magister), but in later years it is perhaps reasons of ill health that prevail. As has already been seen, the name of Ludovico appears in the registers for the last time in August 1503 when his wife acts as godmother to Giuseppe, son of Giacomo Burolio.

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Repeated godfatherhoods and systems of reciprocity are far more frequent in other careers, as in the case of magister Bernardo Coriator, who was born in Viverone but resides in Ivrea, and who begins his career as godfather in July 1544. This is relatively brief, lasting for nine years until January 1553, but if the godmotherhood of his wife Andrieta is taken into account, it extends considerably longer, until May 1561.41 In any case, Bernardo’s career is quite intense, given that he personally attends eight baptisms celebrated in S. Ulderico. Very probably he lives there, as it is in S. Ulderico that his four children are baptized. As his rank puts him into an intermediate position in the local hierarchy, it is unlikely that Bernardo could aspire to creating patron– client relationships for himself. In five out of the eight cases where he personally attends a baptism, his rank is approximately equal to that of the father; in only one case is it higher and in two actually lower. Bernardo, moreover, particularly cultivates some types of relationships. He, in fact, attends the baptism of four of the magister Cristoforo Sutor’s children, and two of those of the nobilis Michele Becutis. In the latter case, the difference in social rank seems to be overcome by a particularly solid friendship, whose origins cannot be traced. To complete the picture of these privileged relationships, Bernardo establishes a relationship of reciprocity with magister Francesco Gasseno. In 1550 he attends the baptism of Gasseno’s son Bartolomeo and during the same year invites him to attend that of his daughter Margherita. Bernardo is rarely substituted by his wife. The objective of his godfatherhood strategy is to strengthen his bonds of friendship, and so he has to be present at the ceremonies in person. Moreover, his rank is not high enough to make it advisable for him to limit his direct participation merely to the most prestigious occasions. Resorting to Andrieta in his later years is probably due to his desire to prolong a career to which he is no longer able to attend personally. The examples illustrated, like that of the Albertis described previously, suggest that godparenthood played a complex relational role, one that it is difficult to reconstruct and analyse because it requires collating evidence scattered in disparate sources and because it is closely interwoven with other kinds of relationships. This is why, once the existence of a relationship of spiritual kinship has been ascertained, it is problematic to establish what was the substance. On more than one occasion, I have emphasized this difficulty; I now wish to provide some additional information on the way in which godparenthood could be set in motion, basing my information on the Eporedia database and cross-checking information related to the 41   As Andrieta is registered up to that date as mulier or uxor of Bernardo, and not as relicta or vidua, we can be reasonably certain that her husband was still alive.

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relationships of spiritual kinship with other data from notary deeds. These are the most appropriate sources, among those available for the Early Modern Era, to investigate closely the way in which the economic and social system functioned. I studied two comprehensive samples of notary deeds, relating to the two-year periods 1535–1536 and 1585–1586.42 I took from the deeds nominative data and included them in the Eporedia database; on the basis of the information available, I noted the distinctive title of rank, name, surname, patronymic, origin and occupation of all the people mentioned. In addition, I made note of the type of deed, whether it was a purchase, a receipt (quietanza), a credit, a dowry or a will, and the role of the parties, whether they were buyers or sellers, creditors or debtors, and so on. Finally I included on the database an indication of the place where the documents were drawn up, which was particularly interesting where it was a private house. The attention paid to aspects often neglected, such as the names of witnesses and the place where the deed was stipulated, is justified if we consider that for spiritual kinship our knowledge of the way in which these relationships were activated is very hazy. One of the hypotheses to verify, therefore, is whether a godfather or a compare was a witness to the stipulation of the contract or whether the deed was drawn up in his house. In fact, in the society of the ancien régime the close interconnection between economic and social life, lucidly analysed and conceptualized by Polanyi (1944), suggests that the way individuals behaved reflected a constant osmosis between the two spheres. Friends, relations and compari also had an economic role, which can seldom be distinguished from their social position. Hosting the signing of a deed in one’s own house, as a witness supporting a compare and, above all, with one’s presence giving a sense of security, providing economic guarantees, acting as a mediator in stipulating a contract are aspects of one and the same thing, and separating ‘economic’ and ‘social’ would be clearly impossible. Moreover, given the sources at our disposal, the historian’s point of view can only be, at best, indirect; but I will return to this later. Cross-checking the data obtained from the notary deeds with those related to spiritual kinship, I searched for proof of the existence of relationships of godfatherhood and comparatico between the parties 42

  I used all the notary deeds stipulated in Ivrea by all the notaries working in the area of Ivrea whose records have been kept. For the two-year period 1535–1536, there are 135 deeds (134 of them stipulated by Antonio Bardini and one by Francesco Barberis); for the two-year period 1585–1586 there are 321 deeds (170 stipulated by Alberto Gerolamo, 126 by Reynerio Orangiano, 14 by Tommaso Billia and 11 by Marchione Stringheri). All these sources are kept in the state archive of Turin (Notaries of Ivrea, nos. 227, 220, 25, 4167, 667, 5423, this being the order in which I have listed the notaries).

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convened and all the people named, for whatever reason, in the document. Historical and anthropological literature suggests that godfathers were very much involved when some kinds of documents, such as wills and contracts (compromessi), were stipulated. I began, therefore, by examining wills, trying to discover small legacies bequeathed to godchildren, documented in various parts of Europe and especially in France (Rubellin 1997). In Ivrea, however, it does not seem to have been customary for godchildren to be automatically left part of an inheritance. Perhaps this was connected to the fact that as the model of godfatherhood adopted envisaged the presence of many godfathers and godmothers at baptism, there tended to be a multiplication of their godchildren, which would have made it too onerous for all of them to be remembered in the will, even though, as we have seen, not everyone had equally easy access to godparenthood. Passing from the first to the second sample of documents, the situation did not change but, on the other hand, it is well known that social customs change very slowly, which is why it is possible that we have to wait at least until the seventeenth century for there to be a similar development. The practice of bequeathing legacies to godchildren was not completely unknown. The only case in which a relationship of spiritual kinship was expressly mentioned in a will, that of Francesco Porcelli, has proved to be extremely interesting. I will shortly examine it in more detail. A second hypothesis found in historical-anthropological texts is that spiritual kinship played a role of mediation in cases of particularly important transactions, such as the sale or exchange of real estate. David Sabean discovered in eighteenth-century Neckarhausen the existence of a relationship of spiritual kinship between the parties (direct or ‘mediated’ by a compare or a godfather in common) in a percentage of sales and exchanges that went from about 50 to 80 per cent of the total, depending on the period (Sabean 1990). However, the only research that I know of, whose objective, concentrating on rural Westphalia in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, was to check Sabean’s conclusions, showed that spiritual kinship did not play any significant part in the sale of real estate. The data I have collected for Ivrea seem to reflect a situation that is more like the one in Westphalia than in Neckarhausen; in fact, I failed to discover the existence of spiritual kinships in any sale or exchange of property that I examined (108 deeds).43 Two comments, however, have to be made at this point. First, to be on a par with the aforementioned research, it would be necessary to have a 43   The initial results of this current research, which is still awaiting confirmation, were presented by Georg Fertig at the conference ‘Kinship in Europe: the Long Run (1300–1900)’, Ascona, 15–20 September 2002, with a paper entitled ‘Marriage and the circulation of land in rural Westphalia (eighteenth and nineteenth centuries)’.

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knowledge of the entire network of spiritual kinships in Ivrea. This has to be excluded as the sixteenth-century sources available are incomplete. It is therefore possible that relevant spiritual kinship relationships have not been correctly recognized. Second, in addition to relationships of direct comparatico, Sabean suggests the importance of comparatico in mediating between people with no direct connections, but this is difficult to identify due to the present structure of the Eporedia database. The surveys I have carried out in this field have not, however, given significant results. As well as verifying these suppositions, I have examined other issues that emerged during my research on godparenthood. This is why I decided to assess whether there was any connection between the activity of witnesses to notary deeds and the activity of godfathers. Since there are few studies on the subject, the actual legal position of witnesses to deeds is not clear. It could be important to find out if they were usually chosen by the notary or by the parties involved and, in the first case, if they were his staff, such as clerks or secretaries, and whether or not they received a salary. We should also know whether they were selected haphazardly, perhaps from among those who happened to be available in the places where notaries drew up the deeds, or whether they were specifically chosen; finally, whether or not the type of deed affected the choice of witnesses, which, for example, might have been more ‘strategic’ in particularly delicate circumstances.44 Although the questions seem interesting and worth further study, this is not the place to deal with them. It is enough to mention that, on the basis of the data I have collected, the witnesses were either ‘habitual witnesses’ who were often present at the stipulation of deeds, or people who rarely attended and who had probably been specifically invited by one or both of the parties.45 Only very occasionally are the notaries’ staff to be found among the witnesses. It is still an open question whether some of the witnesses, perhaps some of the ‘habitual’ ones, had a semi-formal post as brokers or intermediaries; these are people of whom we have little knowledge and about whose presence in Ivrea we can, for the moment, only speculate. Even though a kind of systematic connection has yet to be discovered, relatively frequently a relationship of spiritual kinship can be discerned between one of the parties and one or more of the witnesses, obviously excluding ‘habitual witnesses’ from this analysis. 44

 On these subjects, see Beauvalet, Ruggiu and Gourdon 2004.   For example, when at least one of the parties is not from Ivrea, but comes from the countryside around, we find among the witnesses some people from his same district, who had probably accompanied him. 45

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Thus, for example, in 1586 the ‘comendabile’ (‘worthy of praise’) Pietro Chiampo, compare of messer Giovanni Maria Ecclesia, was present at the signing of the deed with which the latter paid off Giacomo Iurde from Carema. The reverendus dominus Matteo Guidetti did the same for messer Giacomo Facio, Ivrea’s tax attorney and a guild notary, and Giovanni Battista Cagnino for the ‘comendabile’ Bernardo Gotino, and so on, although it is not possible to see a connection between the presence of the compari among the witnesses and the type of notary deed stipulated. The most interesting case is that of the dominus Giovanni Battista Caballus, a tax collector (gabelliere) and one of the wealthiest men in the town,46 who on 9 June 1584 acted as godfather to Margherita, eldest daughter of the nobilis Eusebio Strata, a merchant. In 1586, when he gave credit to another merchant, Giacomo Castelletto of Castiglione, Giovanni Battista asked his compare, Eusebio, to be a witness. Shortly after the deed was stipulated, the spiritual kinship was renewed when, on 8 August 1586, Giovanni Battista held Eusebio’s second and youngest daughter, Laura, at baptism. Apart from what has already been said about the presence of compari among the witnesses to notary deeds, it is difficult to identify any definite pattern in the way spiritual kinship was connected to economic activity. In all probability we are faced with a problem of how to observe godparenthood, as its very nature was such that its effects were revealed in areas on which available sources do not shed light, and when they do, only very indirectly (Alfani and Gourdon 2006). There is, moreover, a problem of interpretation, as the way the economy is embedded in social activity (Polanyi 1944) makes it even more difficult to determine which players, and which conduct, also had an economic connotation. What we are able to reconstruct is an extremely partial picture, made up of apparently unconnected cases, which, however, help to emphasize a key factor, the flexibility of spiritual kinship. This enabled it to face very diverse situations, including the unexpected and even the previously unknown, but I will come back to this in the next chapter. To emphasize this, I will examine some ‘exceptional’ examples, in which the role of godparent clearly features. It seems to me that the most significant case is that of Francesco Porcelli, a gentleman, who on the basis of the census of 1613 is among the leading citizens of Ivrea.47 Francesco is an habitual godfather, attending ceremonies celebrated both in the parishes of S. Ulderico and S. Maurizio during his 25 years as godfather. In 1585, Ivrea was hit by a serious plague epidemic 46   In 1594 he declared possessions to the value of 702 scudi, compared with the average, based on all those who declared their possessions, of 130 scudi. 47   He declared possessions to the value of 806 ducati, compared to an average of 123.

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that took many victims and led several people to make their wills. On 3 September Francesco also called his notary, Marchione Stringheri, to dictate his last wishes to him. In the will, Francesco mentions a credit, which amounts to a ‘bona suma de denari’(‘a good sum of money’), that is owed him by magistro Pietro Ronchet, who is an inhabitant of Pont Saint Martin in the Valley of Aosta, about 15 kilometres from Ivrea. On his death, he expresses the desire that 50 scudi of this sum go to Marta, daughter of Ronchet, as she is his goddaughter; here the reference made to their spiritual kinship is explicit. This case shows how godparenthood was involved in important instances of economic life, such as the loan of money. Unfortunately, we do not know if the credit was given after the relationship of comparatico was established, which might have facilitated an agreement on the matter, or rather it might have suggested that Ronchet turned to Francesco for help rather than to others. Alternatively the loan could have been given before, in which case, the comparatico would have been a further guarantee, as between compari correct behaviour was invariably a duty. Other deeds hint that godparenthood played a part in reaching agreements of an economic nature. One example is sufficient. In 1586 the prebendary of the ‘orum santo’, reverendus Francesco Borrato, canon and dean of the Cathedral of Ivrea, invested Andrea Barato from Piverone with the prebend. The two were compari, as on 14 June 1565 Francesco acted as godfather to Ludovica, Andrea’s daughter. It is reasonable to speculate that the existence of a privileged relationship, based on spiritual kinship, contributed to inducing Francesco to choose Andrea at the very moment when he found himself having to assign the prebend. The last example helps us to show the effectiveness of godparenthood, not in the relationship between compari, but in that between godfather and godchild. In the year 1586 a ‘conventione’ (an agreement) was stipulated between Giovanni Bernardo Oglio and Giovanni Cristoforo Rossi, a merchant and citizen of Vercelli. Giovanni Bernardo wished, in fact, to ‘allocarsi al arte del merchante’ (‘become apprentice as a merchant’) with Giovanni Cristoforo for a period of four years. Giovanni Cristoforo, however, must have asked him to provide guarantees with respect to the terms of the contract, which is why Giovanni Bernardo procures for the stipulation of the deed the presence of two people willing to take on this responsibility: his brother-in-law, Rocho Bonamico, and his godfather, Bartolomeo Michelletto, who was also a merchant of a certain standing. Godfathers, therefore, came to the aid of their godchildren at crucial moments in their lives, such as the beginning of a working activity. I have already given other examples of this. The sources studied, unfortunately, do not allow me to go further in investigating the role of godparenthood in economic activity. What has

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been said should be sufficient to give an idea of the complexity of the situation and of the kind of strategic problems involved in the choice of a compare or in accepting a proposal to become a godparent. The next chapter will deal with the complex question of ‘strategies’.

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CHAPTER 9

Godparenthood as an Instrument of Social Alliance The data from the previous chapters, relating both to the models prior to the Council of Trent and to the transition period that led to the couple model, make it feasible, indeed desirable, to consider a comprehensive reinterpretation of godparenthood. This is feasible because the combination of various research techniques, a comparative approach and the study of a long period, make it possible to assemble a quite accurate picture of this social institution. It is desirable because the analysis of the changes brought about by the Council have highlighted previously unknown aspects of godparenthood. This reinterpretation necessarily has to take into consideration a crucial point, a definition of the features of godparenthood as an instrument of social alliance. A thorough study of this subject will enable us to understand better the data already presented and analyse them further in order to show how these features were exploited in strategic choices, which themselves had specific features. Finally, it will enable us to interpret correctly the developments that godparenthood underwent between the sixteenth century and the present day, the subject of the final chapter. In the Introduction I mentioned that the current understanding of godparenthood as an instrument of social relationships is usually based on the idea of ‘adaptiveness’, introduced by scholars studying Latin America. In their well-known article, Mintz and Wolf already recognized in its adaptiveness this fundamental and exceptional aspect of comparatico: its capacity to contribute, in coherent and lasting ways, to determining models of social relationships that were quite different from one another. The authors undoubtedly identified something important, even though it is now time to abandon the view, typical of anthropology, that concentrated exclusively on comparatico for a study of godparenthood relationships in their entirety. In the following decades the idea of adaptiveness maintained its pre-eminent importance in anthropological studies on godparenthood. 

  ‘The outstanding characteristic of the compadre mechanism is its adaptiveness to different situations. As the structure of the situation changes, so we may see the compadre mechanism serve different purposes’ (Mintz and Wolf 1950, pp. 341–368).

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However, to a certain extent its heuristic potential was unwittingly limited. The analysis of each local godparenthood model ended up by being tidily pigeonholed in a basic conceptual scheme that gave importance principally to a very limited number of variables contrasted two by two: the extension/ intensification of blood kinship; and the horizontal/vertical nature of social relationships etc. My data suggest, however, a far more complex situation. In the first place, they indicate that the adaptiveness of godparenthood was revealed not only in the modality of the social relations generated but also in the number of those relations. While it was still possible to ignore restrictive ecclesiastical legislation, each community seems to have made its own rules, which differed from those in other communities. These rules applied to the number of godparents allowed, whether or not godmothers were admitted, the ratio of godfathers to godmothers, the possibility of choosing clerics and so on. It is, however, extremely difficult to identify the origin of such rules. These was probably a blend of influences that came from nearby or distant centres disseminating customs; of local ‘inventions’; and of mediation on the part of local ecclesiastical authorities. This blend evolved over time according to modality and forms that varied from place to place. Second, the dichotomous formulation mentioned above could prove to be misleading, above all in the communities where there were numerous godparents, as it gives the impression that a certain kind of selection of spiritual godparents prevailed, when, instead, the typical characteristic of godparenthood was that it permitted the elaboration of strategies designed to facilitate the coexistence of different principles of selection, which suggested the choice of very heterogeneous groups of godparents. I will come back shortly to the strategic characteristics typical of godparenthood. First it is appropriate to clarify further the extent of its adaptiveness. The essential point seems to me to be the following: generally speaking, while godparenthood is a social institution governed by practices and customs based on long-term views – following the approach of Braudel – it leaves considerable room for improvisation and for unique and unrepeatable kinds of behaviour. Another ‘strong point’ of this ‘weak’ tie, then, is its potential to express itself in different ways in response to specific and unusual needs, for which there are no consolidated customs to indicate the types of answer. In general, godparenthood can act as a catalyst of potentialities, often unexpressed, not altogether and not everywhere. In the words of David Sabean, ‘Ritual kinship always has something potential about it, but most critically it keeps open a permanent line of communication’ (Sabean 1998, p.239).    The dichotomous approach, already discussed in Paul’s pioneering essay (1942), was adopted by Mintz and Wolf themselves.

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I believe that with regard to Sabean’s interpretation, and though the area, period and religion he was studying are different from mine, besides its potentialities, godparenthood has important aspects with a concrete and long-lasting social significance. However, the fundamental feature is the ‘permanent line of communication’ that it guarantees, given that improvisation and unique conduct are significant not only at the moment a choice of godparents is made: the creation of such relationship of spiritual kinship, weak also in the sense of having few distinguishing features, makes it possible to resort to it, when in need, so to speak, i.e. to respond to unusual and unexpected situations and requirements. This aspect seems to have escaped the notice of most anthropologists interested in godparenthood and in particular those from functionalist and structuralist schools, who, anxious to identify forms of stable and reproducible behaviour within and by means of the social system, have often lost sight of details that are essential for an understanding of the nature of godparenthood. It is undeniable, observing the changes that this social institution underwent during the sixteenth century, that the Council of Trent introduced an element of inflexibility into godparenthood by, for example, drastically reducing the variety of acceptable local models. I will go into this question in the next chapter; here it is sufficient to note that the Council also altered the way in which godparenthood could be used to pursue a strategy of social relationships. In fact, in the context of kinship relationships, godparenthood had some decidedly atypical characteristics, some of which disappeared after the promulgation of the Tridentine regulations. This atypical aspect remains if we compare godparenthood to those relationships that cannot be considered kinships in the strict sense of the term, such as, for example, patronage, or where both parties were members of a guild or a confraternity, relationships that involved a sense of familiarity and, besides, had a certain official status, due to the fact that they were publicly recognized. It is imperative to take into account this characteristic in order to understand correctly the nature of the strategies adopted in the selection of spiritual kin. First, godparenthood made it possible to establish links with people from a different rank to one’s own, both superior and inferior; the latter is of particular interest and is rarely found elsewhere. From a legal point of view, other relationships also permitted the creation of relationships with people on a different rung of the social ladder; it is enough to mention marriage. Usually, however, these choices were disparaged on account of the lack of ‘social legitimacy’, i.e. as contrary to custom, the idea of a good marriage meaning a marriage between equals (Merzario 1981). In the case of godparenthood, similar choices were frequent and unexceptional from

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the point of view of custom, at least until the decrees of the Council of Trent resulted in a move towards the verticalization of the relationship. Second, a characteristic of spiritual kinship that derived from baptism was its ‘reduced range’. This was despite the fact that prior to the Council it had extended beyond the people directly involved through the principle of compaternitas indirecta, of fraternitas spiritualis etc. Nevertheless it ended where the taboo of marriage was no longer recognized and, generally speaking, in no way did it ever reach the boundaries of natural kinship. The Council drastically limited the extension of spiritual kinship, reducing it to godfathers and godmothers on the one hand, and to the baptized infant and its parents on the other. However, we do not know if and until when further ties were still perceived. Third, godparenthood made it possible with just one ceremony to enter into kinship with a heterogeneous set of people. In places where the multi-godfather model was adopted, this was the pivot around which the fathers’ strategies rotated. On the one hand, in fact, the typical characteristic of spiritual kinship, which consented to the institution of ties with members of all social classes, extended the set of potential godparents disproportionately; on the other, the possibility of choosing at will a wide group of people allowed fathers to make complex choices and to respond to different needs, all in one move. This characteristic of godparenthood vanished when the couple model (type 5) was widely adopted. Fourth, in comparison with other relationships creating, for example, kinships, marriage or adoption, godparenthood generally gave rise to weaker relationships, less intense in the obligations and familiarity they entailed. This helps to explain why often high-ranking godparents are to be found at the baptisms of infants from lower classes: the commitment assumed by the former towards the latter and their family was limited. Last, compared with other means of acquiring ties, in particular marriage, the relationship of godparenthood was much less ‘exclusive’. Normally, in fact, marriage could only be repeated in the case of the death of the spouse, while the possibility of planning strategies of spiritual kinship arose for the baptism of every child. Together with the opportunity of choosing a wide and, above all, heterogeneous set of future kinsmen, this characteristic of spiritual kinship made certain choices, unthinkable



  This could also mean going beyond the limits established by the Church in cases where in the community impediments with a wider reach were recognized. It will be remembered that anthropological investigation has brought to light many cases of this kind.    Naturally, other considerations contributed to making the role of godfather of children from lower ranks attractive: the desire to create patronage, to establish friendship with certain elements of society which otherwise would be ‘extraneous’, and so on.

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in other contexts, more desirable, such as that of choosing one or more godparents from a much lower rank than one’s own. Of the five specific characteristics of godparenthood listed above, the first two were modified by the Council of Trent, the third disappeared completely and the last two were not directly the object of reform. These considerations are of help in understanding the strategic behaviour of parents when they came to choosing godparents for their own children. The consequences of the typical characteristics of spiritual kinship are recognisable in the actual choices made by parents, that is, in the godfathers and godmothers they selected. To demonstrate this, I will once again resort to the data relating to Ivrea and Azeglio. Previously I analysed godparents’ aspirations that led them to pursue a godparenthood career with specific characteristics. I also recalled that godparents were not able to organize their participation at baptisms completely autonomously, as their wishes could come into conflict with those of the parents, who were also pursuing their own specific aims with regard to these relationships. These different expectations have now to be considered together, reconstructing the way in which they jointly contributed to producing results, even though fettered by variables that escaped the control both of the parents and the godparents, for example the sex of the newborn baby or the canon law in force. In particular, I will concentrate on the ‘traditional’ model of godparenthood in force in Ivrea and Azeglio, that is, type 1 (pure multigodfather), as the couple model imposed by the Council of Trent is characterized by a drastic limitation in strategic possibilities. I have already dealt with the changes in the criteria determining the choice of godparents following the imposition of the couple model, and especially with the phenomenon of the verticalization of the godparenthood relationship. As for the models of godparenthood that made it possible to select numerous spiritual kin, whether or not they were symmetrical (in other words, whether or not godmothers were present alongside godfathers), the various elements that have been stressed still need to be put into one unitary picture. It is necessary, therefore, to provide a comprehensive description of the large groups of godfathers and godmothers found in many localities, one that takes into consideration the characteristics and aspirations of all the people involved and of the specific strategic possibilities that godparenthood offered. Actually, the motivations and the expectations of fathers did not differ greatly from those of godfathers, except as far as patronage is concerned. It seems unlikely, in fact, that an invitation to attend their children’s baptisms would consolidate their own network of patronage, as the relationship between the godfather and his compare, when it did not create or confirm a friendship (one perhaps strengthened and put on an equal footing by

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attending the baptism of each other’s children), tended towards a ‘oneway’ vertical relationship. Turning our attention away from godfathers to fathers, vertical types of relationship are turned upside down, like the underlying motivations. On the one hand, the aim was to create clients, and on the other to become clients. Obviously, the possibility remains that a high-ranking father wanted to establish formal relationships with lower levels of society for purposes that have nothing to do with patronage; the presence of lower classes at the baptism of infants belonging to higher ranks was relatively frequent, and was one of the prominent features of godparenthood. Here it is appropriate to go into more detail. Interpretation of parents’ motivations as the expression, from time to time, of the numerous nuances to be found within the relationships, ranging from friendship to patronage, between themselves and the compari, seems to exclude completely the possibility that their choices were guided by mere parental affection, expressed in a desire to guarantee their children the best possible tutelage. This is not the place to examine in detail the complex question of affection in the societies of the ancien régime, an obscure and much debated question; it is more appropriate here to note briefly some essential points. First, the parents’ aim of creating relationships of friendship and patronage for themselves did not exclude establishing them for their offspring. The figure of the person who took the child from the font is twofold: on the one hand, he is godfather to the child, on the other, compare to the child’s parents. For this reason, the choices made by the parents between a horizontal and a vertical type of relationship do not seem to change their characteristics when the bond of comparatico becomes one of godfatherhood. Second, there are some aspects of godparenthood strategies that can be justified by the intention of privileging one’s children, or at least some of them. It will be remembered that the sex and order of birth of the baptized carried a certain weight in deciding the size and composition of the group of spiritual kin. Though it is perhaps not possible to speak of affection, the intention was to guarantee the best of chances to the elder male, in whose hands the future of the family lay. Moreover, as I will show shortly, the composition of the group of godfathers and godmothers presents some    In certain aspects these public events are similar also to the certification of ‘familiarity’ which princes granted with a letter to their courtiers.    With regard to the relationship between parents and children, it suffices to recall the debate unleashed by Philippe Ariès’s famous book (1968). Generally speaking, it should be said that choices can be made that are based at the same time on reasons of personal interest and of affection, which is why separating the two aspects is often problematic, if not open to criticism from a methodological point of view. See, for example, Medick and Sabean 1984.

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interesting constants, which can be interpreted as the result of an intention to give each child the right combination of social ties. To unravel this complex situation, the best thing seems to be to refer, once more, to empirical data. As I have already noted, godparenthood, as an instrument of social strategy, had an important characteristic. While the choice of a large group of godmothers and godfathers was still permitted, this one occasion (baptism) gave the opportunity to become part of a kinship made up of a heterogeneous set of people. It is evident that if we wish to evaluate the composition of the groups of godparents present at each baptism, a fundamental question must be raised: as to whether this potential heterogeneity was exploited. If so, can any ‘constituent principles’ be seen, or are we faced with a confused situation, one that is impossible to interpret? To reply to these questions, it is necessary, first of all, to keep in mind the effects the size of the group of godfathers and godmothers had in determining its composition. Were there fixed proportions for the different components or, if the size of the group diminished, were some necessarily abandoned in favour of others? Table 9.1 records the figures relating to the composition of the set of the godparents in Ivrea, included in the samples of the periods 1480–1487 and 1542–1549, an extension of those used previously; the data, then, refer to periods prior to the conclusion of the Council of Trent. As I discovered that the separate figures for each period did not differ significantly, I decided to bring the two samples together, which altogether covered 283 baptisms, attended by 792 godfathers and 361 godmothers. The data is divided according to the class to which the fathers belonged and to the size of the group of godfathers. With this second variable, I grouped together the cases in which two or three godparents attended the ceremony, four or five, six and more, but disregarded the few registrations where there were either no godparents or only one. For each of the nine groups, I have recorded figures as follows: the percentages of baptisms in which the father’s rank is higher than, equal to or lower than the godfather’s (excluding clerics); figures analogous to the previous ones for godmothers; the percentage of clerics out of the total number of godfathers; and finally the incidence of habitual godparents in the whole set of spiritual kin, but calculated with regard only to the baptisms that were part of the original samples (1482– 

  Given the characteristics of godparenthood in Ivrea as emerged during my study, I felt it better to base the dimensional sub-division of baptism only on the godfathers, rather than on the set of godfathers and godmothers, in other words, the total number of the spiritual kin of the baptized.    In the case of Ivrea, I defined as ‘habitual godfathers’ those who took part in at least three baptisms between 1473–1616.

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1485 and 1544–1547). Here I have speculated that ‘couple strategies’ were put into practice, so the godmotherhood activity of the wives of habitual godfathers has been added to that of their husbands and the percentages calculated with regard to the sum of the godfathers and godmothers. On the basis of the data presented above, it is possible to conclude that the size of the group of godparents had an impact on some aspects of its composition, but not on others. In particular, it did not affect the distribution by rank of the godfathers and godmothers, which seems to remain roughly constant when the size varies. In the case of the children of magistri the samples are much smaller and the data less reliable, especially with regard to the distribution by rank of their godmothers. This changes if other aspects of the composition of the group of spiritual kin are examined. In the first place, the size of the groups had an effect on the presence of clerics at the ceremony; independently from the class to which the father belonged, the percentage of clerics grows with the increase in the total number of godfathers. For the seigneurs, it goes from 6.3 per cent when there are two or three godfathers to 16.3 per cent when there are six or more; for the magistri it increases from 3.3 to 8 per cent, for the untitled from 7.6 to 8.5 per cent. These figures confirm the impression that at Ivrea the presence of clerics, while important, was in a certain way an extra; whenever, for one reason or another, the number of godfathers had to be reduced, the clerics were the first to be sacrificed. When conditions allowed, however, and once the godparents held to be indispensable had been assured, a reasonable number was in demand, perhaps in order to increase the variety of relationships. Second, the percentage of ‘habitual godparents’ within the total number is not constant among the various sub-samples. However, in this case, as well as in the number of godparents, the dynamics seem to depend on the class to which they belong. For the seigneurs, an increase in the size of the groups corresponds to a reduction in the presence of habitual godparents, but in the case of magistri their number remains constant; and with the untitled it actually increases. This is difficult to interpret. I will merely point out that in the case of the seigneurs, whose children were usually provided with a solid body of ‘quality’ spiritual kinship relationships, the extension of the group of godfathers provided an opportunity to establish relationships with otherwise neglected sectors of society in Ivrea, whose members only rarely belonged to the category of habitual godparents. More than the limited differences, what is striking is the essential stability of the composition of the groups of spiritual kin. They almost always include people from all levels of society; often there is a cleric, and almost always they include at least one ‘habitual godparent’. The following easily recognizable constituent principles were, therefore, at work:

Table 9.1 Rank of fathers

Composition of the extended groups of spiritual kin in Ivrea (1480–1487 and 1542–1549) Number of godfathers

Rank of fathers in relation to that of godfathers (%)

Clerics¹

Higher Equal Lower Seigneurs

Masters

Untitled

Rank of fathers in relation to that of godmothers (%) Higher

Equal

Lower

Habitual godfathers²

Total godfathers

Total godmothers

2 or 3

53.8

40

–

6.3

54.5

48.5

–

31.7

80

33

4 or 5

42.6

41.7

–

15.7

52.9

47.1

–

18.6

108

34

6 or more

42.9

40.8

–

16.3

50.0

50.0

–

16.7

49

4

2 or 3

53.3

20.0

23.3

3.3

62.5

18.8

18.8

23.3

60

32

4 or 5

56.3

15.6

18.8

9.4

77.8

11.1

11.1

36.8

32

9

6 or more

20.0

32.0

40

8

11.1

0

88.9

22.2

25

9

2 or 3

–

52.7

39.7

7.6

–

47.0

32

14.7

184

100

4 or 5

–

64.6

26.5

8.8

–

55.6

30.6

10.3

113

36

6 or more

–

50.7

40.8

8.5

–

53.3

26.7

24

71

15

¹ As a percentage of total godfathers. ² As a percentage of total spiritual kin, 1482–1485 and 1544–1547.

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• the full exploitation of the strategic possibilities godparenthood offered, particularly regarding the way in which the potential heterogeneity of the group of godparents became an actual choice; • the choice of at least one of the people who, as they proved to be particularly desirable as spiritual kin, often took part in baptisms. This meant that the systems for the selection of godparents were in part fixed, which is why all children were given an unchanging variety of relationships with each class, the intensity of which, however, was in relation to the total number of spiritual kin. As has already been mentioned, the fathers probably wanted to protect both their own and their children’s interests. It was necessary, therefore, to provide a ‘good’ selection of godfathers and godmothers, that is, a set of relationships at all levels of society. However, it is equally feasible that social customs were also at work, and influenced their decisions in a way that completely escapes us. It is also clear that many other factors might have affected the final composition of the group of godparents. For example, they might have been neighbours, have had the same occupation or have belonged to the same confraternity. The sources available have not allowed me to evaluate systematically the importance of these factors. I have only been able to carry out some surveys on neighbourhoods and occupations (I have not found any contemporary lists of membership to confraternities); their effect on the methods used for selecting godparents, however, seems to be minimal, and anyway almost certainly insufficient to distort significantly the mechanisms described above. If, then, stability is a typical factor in the composition of the groups of godfathers and godmothers, was this also true at times of social turbulence? The case of Ivrea offers stimulating opportunities for study, as the city was involved in the Wars of Italy, when it was occupied by foreign troops, the French and the Spanish, the latter being allies of the Dukes of Savoy. I will concentrate on the 13 years from 1542 to 1554, when the Spanish garrison stationed in Ivrea was chased out by the French. In that period, some milites Ispani (‘Spanish soldiers’) often appear among the godfathers in the registers of S. Ulderico. I found 15 altogether, to whom can be added three godmothers, registered as wives or mistresses (amasie) of one of the occupiers. The incidence of the Ispani on the total number of godparents is, then, low. Perhaps, however, their importance is more than it might seem at first sight. Between the population and the occupiers a certain distance must   On the way the choice of godparents in Florence was conditioned by the relationship between neighbours and between colleagues, see Haas 1998, pp. 73 ff.

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have been kept, if only on account of the destruction of the suburbs ordered by the governor Morales in 1544, which must have incurred the wrath of many of the inhabitants. Spiritual kinship contributed to building bridges between the sides and to healing social fractures, and much research has documented how it was used to end feuds (see Hammel 1968). Even though this phenomenon involved all the social classes, it was the lower ranks that were most affected: 28 per cent of the Spanish godparents attended the baptism of the children of the seigneurs, 11 per cent those of the magistri, 61 per cent the untitled. These percentages probably reflect the composition of the garrison, which had only a few high-ranking officers but many from the rank and file. The former were requested by the elite, the latter were the only ones who were available to the untitled, a category which more than the others had reason to be the target of harassment. Moreover, it seems that the invitation to become godparents was only ‘in one direction’, from the parents of Ivrea to the Spanish. In fact, I know of only two cases of a Spanish father having his child baptized in Ivrea, but all the godparents were his fellow countrymen. Although significant, this piece of data lacks sufficient statistical relevance. The fact that the foreign occupiers attended the baptisms of children in Ivrea illustrates how the adaptiveness of spiritual kinship made it a suitable instrument when it was necessary to react promptly to unexpected circumstances. It is reasonable to surmise that the large number of foreigners in the town upset the balance between the various centres of power; consequently the need arose for the inhabitants to protect themselves by creating new relationships, which included those with the occupiers. It was not advisable to make matrimonial alliances with them (I found no traces of the baptism of children of ‘mixed’ marriages), as the alternating fortunes of war, of which Ivrea was all too aware, did not make it possible to foresee with any degree of certainty who would govern in the years to come. Also, for the Spanish it was probably advantageous to establish social relationships with the subjugated population in order to contain a latent hostility that could have broken out into open rebellion.10 Finally, it should be kept in mind that to be peaceful an occupation cannot become an occasion for systematic plunder. It is then evident that the presence of a garrison could be exploited to create economic opportunities, if not social advancement. Who, for example. would supply the Spanish with their victuals? A comparatico relationship would help to make the most of 10   We know, for example, that many Florentine officers who served in subjugated cities established relationships of spiritual kinship with their subjects, sometimes with the whole community (the custom of asking whole cities to be ‘godfather’ at baptism is documented), using godfatherhood as a means of government. (Haas 1998, pp. 76 –77).

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Fathers and Godfathers

these opportunities, drawing closer together people who otherwise would have been adversaries, and directing their relationships within a regulated, and thus in some way ‘protected’, social environment. If adaptiveness is, invariably, a characteristic of godparenthood, doubtless adhering to the multi-godfather model made it easier to react to this kind of shock. In the context of a large group of spiritual kin, a Spanish godfather could be added without compromising the harmony of the whole. Once again, heterogeneity proved to be the essential constituent principle. All the available empirical data underline the considerable regularity in the way the groups of spiritual kin were composed. This was, however, not the fruit of the mere desires of those ‘actively’ involved (fathers and godfathers), but also depended on other factors. In conclusion, it seems useful to recall them briefly, suggesting a kind of scheme of how they interacted. Three different kinds of factors contributed to structuring the decisionmaking process: 1. the ‘strategic’ characteristics of godparenthood; 2. the constraints to be respected when a choice was made; 3. the actors involved. As a means of pursuing a strategy of social relationships, godparenthood had some important characteristics: adaptiveness, the potential to establish relationships at all levels of the social hierarchy, the weakness of the ties established, and potential heterogeneity, which I discussed at the beginning of the chapter. It can be claimed that these are invariably the characteristics of godparenthood, even though perhaps in some places and in some eras they are suppressed, but are ready to re-emerge when required. This is confirmed by a second flowering of spiritual kinship in Latin America, but I will come back to this later. Some constraints, however, limit the space of possibilities, restricting the strategic options open to those involved. Essentially there are two kinds of constraints: juridical/formal rules and local practices. With regard to the former, while the Church tried right from the outset to regulate godparenthood, it was only from the Council of Trent that it was able to impose its own wishes universally. It is probable that at a local level some attempts to moderate the practices were successful, but some empirical research is necessary to corroborate deductions largely based on juridical sources, especially on the statutes of synods, which were not always respected. Besides, the variety of rules traced in the statutes themselves indicate a fragmentation in the legal situation,

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which developed despite the existence of counciliar rules, intended to be universally applied. With regard to the practices, given the difficulty in establishing their origin and causes, we must take them as we find them. A better knowledge of their distribution over the territory would be useful and would make it possible to evaluate the eventual links between local godparenthood customs and other factors, be they social, cultural, ethnic or other. It should be remembered that sometimes it is not clear if, and how far, the activity of the local ecclesiastical authorities influenced their formation. The essential point I have underlined on several occasions is that different types of local characteristics are to be found, and had an influence on all aspects of godparenthood. With respect to the impact on social strategies, particularly important is the number of godfathers and godmothers that was acceptable to assign to the baptized in each community. Legal constraints and local practices interact together in complex ways and together exercise an influence on the possible strategies open to the protagonists; in this way they contribute to defining the ‘environment’ in which the choices take shape. Looking at the three categories of those involved in baptism, only two, fathers and godfathers, are able to take a decision autonomously, in other words are active, while the third (the baptized infant) is ‘mute’ or passive. Some of the children’s characteristics influence, even though quite marginally, the number and quality of their spiritual kin. I have already mentioned that it is possible to construct an approximate hierarchy of privileges that favoured the eldest over their siblings, legitimate children over illegitimate, males over females, placing the eldest legitimate male at the top of the list. With regard to fathers and godfathers, while it is difficult to investigate their motivations, they seem inclined to establish relationships that from time to time have very different features. Godfathers, as much as fathers, have to be considered to be active participants in the decision-making process. Many of them seem to pursue precise strategies, organized in godfatherhood ‘careers’ that could integrate with the godmotherhood careers of their respective spouses in establishing a kind of ‘strategy of the couple’. These careers present recurrent structures and characteristics that were unlikely to be determined by fortuitous factors. Fathers, on the other hand, combine the need to protect their children, endowing them with ‘good’ relationships, with the need to create advantageous, or anyway desirable, comparatico relationships. As noted above, the wishes of the fathers have to be taken into consideration alongside those of the godfathers. An offer of godfatherhood has to be accepted by the godfather, just as the ambitions of a would-be godfather, if openly declared

206

Fathers and Godfathers

or perceived, have to be recognized by the parents, in a complex network of relationships regulated by specific customs.11 As it takes place in a specific context that determines possible strategic options, the interaction between the three categories of protagonists has the results that I mentioned previously. These results seem to indicate that the unusual possibilities offered by godparenthood were fully exploited or, at least, those possibilities that were legitimized by the customs and rules in force. Figure 9.1 show the factors that contribute to determining the selection of groups of godfathers and godmothers. Examining an actual case will help to clarify the way these mechanisms functioned. On 13 February 1547, Gasparda, daughter of the spectabilis dominus Francesco dei Signori di Ceridone, is baptized at the font of S. Ulderico; the little girl is the first of Francesco’s children from his two marriages. In Ivrea, prior to the Council of Trent, it was customary to give many godfathers and godmothers, seemingly without the local church seeking to limit their number. In Ivrea the godparenthood model is type 1, pure multigodfather, as there is no definite limit to the number of godfathers allowed, and usually godmothers also attended the baptismal service. The case of Gasparda, however, is special. She is given a large group of spiritual kin: six godfathers but no godmothers. The fact that she is a girl did not induce her parents to provide her with female spiritual kin. The important fact is that she is the eldest, and this counsels her parents to give her the best possible contacts. In general in Ivrea, as in many other communities in northern Italy, godmotherhood was held to be less important than godfatherhood. Before long, the Council of Trent would contribute to modifying this situation, imposing de iure a symmetry, at least formally, between the sexes.

11

  On the Greek island of Karpathos, for example, parents never directly sought out their children’s godparents. It was felt that if they did, everyone would think they had been under some obligation, because nobody else was available. For this reason, it would be humiliating to look for someone, running the risk of making a bad choice and bringing bad luck on the newborn infant. Besides, a direct request would be viewed as an obligation imposed on the desired godfather and godmother, constrained against their wishes to offer gifts etc. (it will be remembered that on Karpathos, up until recently the system of godparenthood in force was quite onerous for the parties involved). It was the would-be godparent who honoured the newborn baby’s parents, offering himself to hold the child at baptism (Vernier 1984, p. 63). In Italy it was usually the parents who made a proposal to the desired spiritual kin, but there were also cases of aspiring godparents who offered themselves, for example, the merchant of Prato, Francesco di Marco Datini, who had to keep putting pressure on his friend, Lapo Mazzei, in order to be accepted eventually for the position (Origo 1979, pp. 177–178).

Godparenthood as an Instrument of Social Alliance

207

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Strategies and environment: a diagram of interactions

Francesco, Gasparda’s father, is a person of some standing and probably has no difficulty in persuading the godfathers he wants to take part in the baptism. He chooses four belonging to the seigneurial class, plus two clerics. His intention, it seems, is to reinforce his friendship with the highest echelons of the population, rather than establish asymmetrical relationships with members from the lower rungs of the social hierarchy, where perhaps he already has a large patronage. The extensive group of godfathers he manages to secure for his daughter, however, enables him to extend his ties also with the local clergy, usually excluded from smaller groups. Looking at the godfathers he selects, we discover that two of them, the nobiles Antonio Sala and Giovanni Pietro Rapis, are ‘habitual godfathers’. They probably willingly accept the invitation to take part; perhaps they were expecting it or even solicited it, so that they could become compari of Francesco, who belongs to the upper echelons of the town. All in all, Francesco supplies Gasparda with a set of high-quality spiritual kin, who would help her to become part of Ivrea’s high society. As it is likely that the relationship of comparatico thus created would be useful to him, he manages to reconcile his own interests with those of his eldest child.

208

Fathers and Godfathers

As usual when piecing together these individual histories, it is necessary to speculate and take into consideration both the lacunae in the sources available and the difficulties in interpretation. On the other hand, despite what has been said up to now, it is likely that much of the logic that probably shaped the way a complex social institution like godparenthood functioned continues to escape us, both on account of the difficulty of observing spiritual kinship at work and the risk of over-interpreting the little that documents can usually tell us. The situation is further complicated by the fact that we are faced with practices that are not constant in time, as the Church and the Council of Trent intervened, imposing a radical change just at a time when the first sources that enable us to study spiritual kinship systematically began to appear. I have already examined the difficult phase of adaptation to the new rule and the attempts of various communities to put up resistance, as well as the immediate and unexpected effects of the reform. I will now deal with the evolution of godparenthood in the following centuries, that is after it had absorbed the initial shock brought about by the Council’s decrees.

CHAPTER 10

Godparenthood from the Seventeenth Century to the Present Day: A History of Decline? The history of godparenthood during the Modern Age is far from being ‘static’. Between the end of the fifteenth and the first half of the sixteenth century, the medieval forms of godparenthood were still common throughout Europe. They had consolidated since a long time, at least from the fourteenth century when they are confirmed by numerous sources, but probably from much earlier. I will not return here to the history of godparenthood during Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages. I will merely underline the fact that it resulted in fragmentation and disparity in practices from one place to another, associated locally, however, with a remarkable stability. This meant that each locality had its own model of godparenthood to which it was loyal, while the distribution of models and practices over a wider area showed a complex and, up to now, littleknown geography. In the history of godparenthood this situation of fragmentation and disparity, but also of stability of practices, created an equilibrium since forces able to bring about a transformation (at least not in the short term) do not seem to have been at work within society. The impetus for change came from outside. It was the Council of Trent, established by the Catholic Church to stem the tide of Protestantism, that brought godparenthood under control. Evidence that this institution was ‘on parole’ is the stubborn struggle of the councils and synods which, one after the other in the second half of the sixteenth century, sought to apply the decrees of the Tridentine Council, fighting the old practices. Reversing a thousand-year trend, canon law, at least apparently, triumphed over customs, as its model of godparenthood was accepted and a new equilibrium was reached. Between the old and the new equilibrium there was a lengthy period of changes, uncertainties and difficult adjustments, the chronological sequence of which differed from place to place and from state to state, but which, at least in northern Italy, seems to have terminated everywhere within thirty to forty years of the conclusion of the Council of Trent. The new equilibrium reached in the early seventeenth century, characterized by the adoption of the couple model (type 5) and by a relative verticalization of godparenthood relationships, did not apply,

210

Fathers and Godfathers

however, to the whole of Europe, which had by then lost its religious unity. Besides, even confining our attention to Catholic areas, we cannot exclude the possibility that during the seventeenth and following centuries godparenthood underwent other important changes; in fact, it is highly likely that there were other transformations. Lastly, outside Europe, the Catholic Church taking root in the New World seems to have spectacularly lost its control over godparenthood, achieved somewhat laboriously in the Old World. In its new environment, spiritual kinship set out on a path which was at the same time similar to and different from that followed in Europe. Except for Latin America our knowledge of the course of godparenthood, both in the Modern and in the Contemporary Age, is sketchy. I propose now to illustrate the trends that seem to emerge on the basis of the few, often pioneering, studies available, underlining how the results of my own research point to fresh questions and highlight the existence of considerable gaps in our knowledge, which can only be filled by further research. As will be recalled, the role of the Council of Trent in the long history of godparenthood has up to now been largely misunderstood by those writing on the subject. It seems logical to start with Europe, and in particular, with those areas that remained faithful to the Roman Catholic Church, for example Italy, France and Spain. On the basis of my data for northern Italy, I have shown that the Catholic reform of godparenthood did not have the results the conciliar fathers had hoped for, and, in fact, was unsuccessful. Even though it managed to impose a drastic reduction in the number of godfathers and godmothers, the Church was not able to oblige spiritual kin to fulfil their duties towards their godchildren. Probably this failure was generalized; in other words, the reform of godparenthood had disappointing results throughout the Catholic world. Proof is the fact that this failure was not due to lack of effort or indifference, but the very opposite. In a key diocese such as Milan, Carlo Borromeo raised his voice on several occasions with instructions to his parish priests to be on the alert for the conduct of godparents and to condemn forbidden practices. As not even Carlo Borromeo, the saint considered a model by the Counter-Reformation, was able to discipline his flock effectively, it is unlikely that others would be able to do so, especially considering that many European countries were tardy in giving their support to the Council’s decrees. In France, for example, even though the local Church’s opposition to the Tridentine decrees lasted until 1615 (Michel 1932), we know that the new rules on godparenthood

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had already been recognized for some years (e.g. since 1608 in the diocese of Paris). By this date, however, in other parts of Europe the project of reform formulated at Trent had already clearly failed; the early enthusiasm had come to nothing, and other options had been chosen. This was the case in Italy, where the resistance encountered must have been so formidable that the undertaking was deemed impossible and thus abandoned. Already at the beginning of the seventeenth century the question of the reform of godparenthood had lost its relevance. Why? Had the Church perhaps become resigned? In a certain sense this was true: certainly the Church no longer attempted to moralize godparents or make them more responsible, or at least, did not do this in an organized fashion, as a ‘body’, rather leaving action to its individual members. In another sense, though, this was not so. The problem of children’s Christian education, especially in the context of the conflict and struggle with Protestants, was of primary importance, and one that absolutely had to be solved. It was necessary to avoid the risk of Protestant reformers’ preaching, perhaps filtered, coded and made more difficult to identify, spreading among those who were ignorant of the ‘true faith’ and were unable to recognize Protestant ideas for what they were. Towards the end of the sixteenth century these kinds of concerns were very common in northern Italy; it is often forgotten that it was a frontier area between Catholics and Protestants, where the dioceses of Milan and Como extended into mainly Calvinist Switzerland (Di Filippo Bareggi 1999). Once established that godparenthood was not a reliable means of Christian education, it was necessary to look for an alternative, and it was probably the catechism that provided the answer. Obviously the catechism already existed and attempts were being made to improve it (Bossy 1985, pp. 118 ff.), but the energy spent on training clergy to teach it correctly and to convince the population to send their children to the lessons intensified between the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, when the failure of the reform of godparenthood became apparent. It seems, therefore, that there is a connection between the negative results of the reform of godparenthood and the increased energy spent on guaranteeing that the instruction of both those who were to teach and those who were to learn from the catechism would have a positive outcome. For the moment this is mere speculation, but it would be interesting to study it further. It is, though, practically certain that the achievements reached with the catechism contributed considerably to making the lack of success 

  As can be seen from the synodal statutes of Henry de Gondy of 1608 (decree XXIV); see Actes de l’Église de Paris touchant la discipline et l’administration, J. P. Migne, Paris 1854.

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in the reform of godparenthood seem less important, so much so that later on it did not seem opportune to spend more energy on it. On account of these developments, from the seventeenth century onwards, the problem of the moralization of spiritual kin rapidly lost its urgency. Proof is the long silence on the part of ecclesiastical legislators, a silence, however, that has not lasted to the present day. If we take separately the rules governing the number of godparents and those which applied to spiritual kinship over a very long period of almost two thousand years, they show, as it were, very different lines on the graph. As far as the number of godparents is concerned, while there was some indecision about the one godparent and the legality of the model of the godfather/godmother couple or the ternary model, the line is essentially flat: legislators were always against the proliferation of godparents. The only element that changes in time is their capacity to impose respect for the limits effectively. As has been seen, it was only after the Council of Trent that the Church managed to deploy sufficient forces to effect the transition to the couple model, which made any further intervention useless. In examining the expansion of spiritual kinship a sort of inverted parabola can be seen. Up until the sixteenth century, in fact, the tendency was to extend progressively the reach of spiritual kinship, but with the Council of Trent this trend came to an abrupt standstill, limiting spiritual kinship only to the direct relationships between godfather/godmother, priest and godchild and to the comparatico relationship. However, the downward phase of the curve did not terminate in the sixteenth century, but four centuries later. In 1917 the new Code of Canon Law recognized the existence of spiritual kinship and the relative matrimonial bans, but only for spiritual paternity, that is, the relationship that linked the baptized with godfathers, godmothers and the priest administering baptism. The impediment to marriage due to compaternitas was totally abolished, as was spiritual kinship resulting from confirmation, the only form besides baptism to survive the Council of Trent. Finally, in 1983 the adoption of a new version of the Code of Canon Law, with no reference whatsoever to spiritual kinship, marked its final disappearance from the Catholic world, together with the remaining matrimonial impediments that it entailed. What was the reason behind this fervour to create new legislation after three centuries of silence? Spiritual kinship, far from regaining its importance, in the twentieth century showed that it had now become completely irrelevant. The Church, engaged in bringing its structures up 

  Codex Iuris Canonici, Typis polyglottis vaticanis, Rome 1917.   For a comment on the legislation introduced by the Code of Canon Law of 1917, see Cimetier 1932, pp. 1995–2003.    Codice di Diritto Canonico, Libreria editrice vaticana, Rome 1983. 

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to date, considered it a mere relic of the past, a kind of living fossil, and did away with it. In order for this to be possible it was necessary for further changes to occur in the practices of godparenthood observed at the beginning of the seventeenth century, changes that would empty it of any significance as a social institution. We can, therefore, affirm with certainty that the apparent equilibrium that godparenthood reached at the beginning of the seventeenth century was destined to come to an end. The data available, however, do not allow us to place this transformation at a specific time, nor do they allow us to identify its causes. At present, though, there is no lack of promising research, which has already produced some important results, but I will come to this shortly. First, it is helpful to reflect on the role played by the Council of Trent in modifying godparenthood practices and in altering the relationship between customs and positive rules. Undoubtedly, the passage from a host of pre-Tridentine models to the couple model resulted in the increasing inflexibility of godparenthood as a social institution. First of all, the possibility that each local model could vary with respect to others was drastically reduced, as now far more restricted boundaries had to be respected. At the same time, the ways in which godparenthood could contribute to constructing the social structure of a community were limited. This result was reached by uprooting godparenthood from a context of unwritten practices and customs, to launch it into one of written laws, which were uniform and universally applicable to all Catholic populations (Alfani 2005a). It seems to me that this process fits perfectly into the more general picture illustrated by John Bossy, who interpreted the Counter-Reformation as a time when ‘parochial conformism’ or rather, ritual and uniform practices for all Catholics, was imposed. This deeply modified the pre-existent situation when the Church was, in effect, a conglomeration of autonomous communities (Bossy 1998b). This passage from practices to norms, and from many different models to only one, has further implications that are worth highlighting. Above all, the social impact it produced differed from place to place; evidence of uncertainty and resistance on the part of the population are to be found in those communities where usage was far removed from the new rules. The different intensity of the impact on society, probably also to be found for other Tridentine reforms, created in Catholic Europe disquiet and tensions, whose nature and extent are difficult to identity.    Parallel to the elimination of spiritual kinship, the role of godparents in the baptismal liturgy was also re-dimensioned. After the Second Vatican Council the liturgy tended to underline the parents’ role during the service, to the detriment of the godfathers’ and godmothers’.

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Second, and in spite of what has already been observed, even though it is not possible to affirm that after the Council of Trent there was one model of godparenthood, as many aspects of this social institution could vary while respecting the ‘form’ of the model of the godfather/godmother couple, nonetheless it seems that, at least in the short term, the reform encouraged a standardization of societies. All the localities surveyed adjusted to the couple model; almost everywhere godparenthood relationships tended towards verticalization with regard to the lower levels of society, while the upper classes seem ever more orientated towards a kind of spiritual endogamy. Even though at the moment we can only speculate on the paths followed by local models of godparenthood from the seventeenth century onwards, it is certain that, at least from the second half of the sixteenth century, all, or almost all, localities in northern Italy took steps in the same direction, discovering in the end that they were more alike than before. It is probable that this affirmation is applicable to the rest of Italy and to all of Catholic Europe, even though it should be remembered that there is a problem posed by the difference in the dates when the decrees of the Council were put into practice. Despite the aspirations of the Church, at the beginning of the sixteenth century godparenthood was clearly placed in a context of customs and practices, but after the Council of Trent it could not resist the attraction exerted by the world of positive law. It is tempting to claim that what we are looking at is the ‘modernization’ of a social institution (the Middle Ages had just come to an end), but the very concept of ‘modern’ presents a degree of ambiguity which I do not wish to go into here. The question I wish to pose is of a different kind. Examining the models of godparenthood that have been the object of my research, models essentially characterized by a variability in the number of godfathers and godmothers admissible at baptism and by the different strategic possibilities that this implied, it can undoubtedly be claimed that it was the Council that led to a ‘normalization’, intended both as a standardization and as a support to a positive norm. But what was the residual importance of practices and customs? The decline of godparenthood in the twentieth century, which simply meant a recognition of an extinction that had already taken place, though not everywhere, can only be due to a variation in the custom, as the rule remained the same for almost five centuries (1563–1917). Current research also shows that nineteenth-century Italy did not yet uniformly accept the couple model of godfather and godmothers, which is today universally practised. It is a matter of another important transformation in customs, unrelated to the legal situation and with social implications that certainly merit further study. For example, in Rome Vincent Gourdon (2005) discovered that the prevalent model was one that envisaged the presence of one godfather

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or one godmother, but not both. On the basis of my typology, it could be concluded that actually it is a question of type 5 model (pure single godfather), as we are not faced with a case of asymmetry between the sexes, but with very different practices from those I found in northern Italy from the second half of the sixteenth century onwards. In Rome in 1831 children had only one godfather in 26.07 per cent of cases, only one godmother in 32.17 per cent and both in 41.76 per cent. The data refer to a sample of 12 parishes in Rome. If a distinction by sex is made, the results show that the males had one godfather in 36.49 per cent of cases and one godmother in 20.15 per cent, while the girls went from 15.18 to 44.73 per cent respectively. The trend, therefore, was to give the newborn infant one spiritual kin of the same sex as the baby. Interestingly, Gourdon’s data shows that in the following decades the couple model slowly but steadily became stronger, and already by mid century this was the model that prevailed, although only just. Godfathers and godmothers are both present in 41.76 per cent of the baptisms celebrated in 1831, in 51.06 per cent of those celebrated in 1851, in 54.73 per cent of those celebrated in 1872; in 1791 only for the parish of Santa Maria in Monticelli the percentage was 33.33. It seems possible to be able to deduce from this data that there was a slow trend to conform to the most widespread form of the couple model, rigidly followed by Romans today. It would be interesting to know if this tendency developed during the seventeenth or eighteenth century, slowly changing an older model that always, or almost always, envisaged the presence of only one godfather or only one godmother. Unfortunately, I have no information either regarding the godparenthood model in force in Rome prior to the Council or regarding later developments. It would be important to clarify if the model in force in the nineteenth century can be traced back to ancient local customs, or if, starting from a situation similar to, for example, that in Florence, characterized by many godfathers and many godmothers, an extreme type of reform of godparenthood was imposed in Rome. It will be remembered that the Council fathers were in favour of one godparent, and they allowed two at the most as a concession to the supporters of multiple godparents. An interesting fact to caution against in jumping to hurried conclusions about the prevailing godparenthood customs in Italy after Trent is that the only other thorough research on nineteenth-century godparenthood has shown the presence of a model similar to the one in Rome. It was carried out in Follina, a small community with an important textile industry in the Venetian area. Follina is a long way from Rome, not only geographically but also historically and culturally. However, Cristina Munno (2005, 2006) also found here a ‘weak’ form of type 5 model, pure single godfather, and not the couple model. In 65 per cent of the baptisms celebrated between 1834 and 1854 only one godmother is present, in 34 per cent of the cases

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only one godfather, and a godparent couple in just 1 per cent of the cases. As today in Follina the children are regularly given both a godfather and a godmother, as in Rome, the question arises about the transformation and standardization of customs to which the data published by Munno up to now do not provide an answer. More generally, the cases of Rome and Follina suggest once more the fragmentation of customs and practices, even though the only ‘legitimate’ model of godparenthood after Trent was the type 5, or at most, type 6 (pure single godfather or asymmetric single godfather respectively). In the nineteenth century godparenthood practices were still far from being homogeneous in the Italian peninsula. The subject becomes more complicated if the non-official practices are considered, but I will deal with these later. As far as I know, in the communities that I have studied, the couple model, consolidated between the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, has predominated uninterruptedly until the present day. However, I can here only base my deductions on surveys conducted on a small portion of the data, so surprises cannot be excluded, even though I think they are rather unlikely. It is certain, though, that the ‘anomalous’ kinds of behaviour found in Rome and Follina might be more common than the data available lead us to suppose. The issue can only be solved by research into the geography of customs, facilitated by the almost universal availability of parish sources from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and, therefore, to be encouraged. Also with regard to other Catholic areas in Europe, it is commonly held that newborn babies have always received a godfather and a godmother, but also in this case it would be appropriate and interesting to verify this supposition, Munno’s research has provided other results that are interesting here. They demonstrate that godparenthood played an important role in the organization of society in Follina. Most of the godparenthood activities were concentrated in the hands of a limited number of families, and in particular the Colles family, owners of the largest wool mill in the town. They supplied a godfather or godmother in 6 per cent of the baptisms celebrated between 1834 and 1854, followed by the family of the pharmacist and then members of the wealthier families. At the other end

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of the social ladder, members of more humble families were rarely asked to be godparents. As a social relationship, godparenthood seems to have moved in a vertical direction (one of patronage) rather than in a horizontal one (of friendship). However, relationships of reciprocity and exchange of godparenthood were also important, and they contributed to creating a network of relationships of friendship and of reciprocal support. Forty-six per cent of the families returned, at least once, the favour of being chosen; this was particularly common among the workers who were natives of the town. A comparison between Follina and the town of Ivrea three centuries earlier is fascinating. Many analogous features are to be found: the concentration of most of the godparenthoods in just a few families; the combination of vertical and horizontal relationships; the existence of systems of reciprocity, even though the overall situation was very different. Above all, it should be emphasized that at Follina in the mid-nineteenth century spiritual kinship was still an important feature of the social life of the community. At the moment, research does not allow us to put the case    Twenty per cent of the godparenthoods were concentrated among the top five families, while 115 families out of 289 (40 per cent) were never asked.    The vertical direction prevailed also in the village of Bassignana (in Piedmont, near Alessandria), studied by Bigi, Ronchi and Zambruno (1981); their research concentrated on the eighteenth century. At Bassignana, godparenthood was used to consolidate ‘close’ vertical relationships that linked each level of local society to the one immediately above or below (‘The client of my client is also my client’). Thus the upper classes followed a spiritual endogamy that led to the selection of godparents exclusively from their own class. At the same time, they agreed to attend the baptisms of the offspring of the intermediate class (administrators, merchants, wealthy farmers), who combined vertical kinds of choices (selections from nobility or prominent figures like notaries) with horizontal relationships, with the aim of consolidating friendships within their own group, and willingly held at baptism a newborn baby from a lower class. At the bottom of the hierarchy (small proprietors and artisans) the vertical links of godparenthood clearly prevailed over the others.    In the years close to those that are the object of Munno’s research, a similar concentration of godparenthood and the joint presence of horizontal and vertical relationships are to be found in another manufacturing area: the valleys around Lecco, in northern Lombardy, studied by Andrea Colli. In the parish of Laorca, between 1815 and 1906, a small group of landowners supplied most of the godparenthoods (56.5 per cent). This category used godparenthood to establish a horizontal type of relationship (80 per cent of their own children had as godparent other landowners). Looking at the principal and most numerous intermediate class, made up of smiths working in the iron foundries, 38.1 per cent of the newborn babies were held at baptism by the landowners and factory owners, with whom a vertical type of comparatico was thus established. In a relative majority of cases (48.1 per cent), blacksmiths chose compari belonging to their same class, aiming therefore, like the ‘native’ workers in Follina, to reinforce ties of solidarity within their own social group (Colli 1999, pp. 74–77). For a study of these characteristics in a Protestant area, the Swedish city of Umeå between 1850–1855, see Ericsson 2000.

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in a diachronic perspective, but certainly for Follina the problem remains of dating a loss of importance, evidenced by contemporary forms of sociability. This last statement cannot amount to a dogmatic generalization, as an anthropological analysis has shown that in large areas of Europe godparenthood was still flourishing in the middle of the twentieth century and probably still is in certain areas. At this point, it should be clear that the problem of the decline of godparenthood is an important issue that only empirical research can untangle. The present state of our knowledge makes it extremely difficult to make hypotheses on the nature and the times of the decline; I can merely add some further considerations in the case of Ivrea. Some surveys that have been carried out using contemporary sources indicate that today it is customary to choose close relatives as godfathers and godmothers: children’s aunts and uncles are favourites. Only when they are not available does the choice fall on other members of the family or close friends. These results need to be further verified and are at present only a working hypothesis, but if they are confirmed an important conclusion could be drawn: when the child’s godfather is his uncle, spiritual kinship as a social bond becomes irrelevant, as the godfather is not considered ‘godfather’ to his godchild, but ‘uncle’. The close blood tie predominates and smothers the tie of godparenthood to such an extent that often in these cases the children are not even aware of the fact that an uncle and aunt are also godfather and godmother. Moreover, the custom of choosing godparents who belong approximately to the same generation as the parents, or are at any rate much older than their godchildren, makes the possibility of ‘spiritual incest’ almost purely theoretical. If the perception of the existence of a godfatherhood relationship has been lost, this is even truer for the bond of comparatico, no longer recognized by the Church today, which has been superseded by the relationship between brothers or brothers-in-law. In France, until recently, it was customary to choose the child’s paternal or maternal grandparents as godparents, at least for the elder children of the couple, and clearly this had the same effects as the choice of uncles and aunts on the perception of the godparenthood tie.10 In conclusion, godparenthood has been brought 

  In central Italy (San Marco dei Cavoti in the Sannio area), even though it is still commonly held that godparents should be chosen from outside the family, during the twentieth century the number of godparents selected from within the intermediate family has grown considerably, reaching 40 per cent around 1980; among them it is the uncles of the newborn baby who predominate (Palumbo 1991, pp. 134–137). 10   Van Gennep 1943, p. 128; Segalen 1985; Zonabend 1978, pp. 656–676. Vincent Gourdon indicates that this custom has been criticized in handbooks on etiquette since the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century, when, at least in these

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back into the sphere of close family relationships, of alliances and of closeknit friendships, and deprived of its autonomy. It is doubtful whether godparenthood is any longer perceived as a means of generating closer ties of acquaintanceship and specific obligations. This later evolution cannot at the moment be dated. It is possible to speculate that it began no earlier than the nineteenth or, at the most, the eighteenth, century,11 at least in handbooks, grandparents began to lose their traditional role as representatives of the lineage and authority of their forbears, gradually becoming the ‘sweet grandparents’ (grand-parents ‘gâteau’) we are accustomed to today. Preference was given to godparents who belonged to the same generation as the parents of the baptized (Gourdon 2001, pp. 292–301). We must also remember that some local studies make it doubtful that the custom of choosing godparents from among grandparents still prevailed in the first half of the nineteenth century, for example at Saint-Martin de Thoiry, where uncles and aunts were prevalent as godparents at least from 1829 (Delwaulle 2000–2001). Actually, the choice of grandparents as godparents is not incompatible with that of uncles. At Minot, for example, François Zonabend notes that up until the Second World War, ‘On prenait pour le premier enfant le grand-père paternel et la grand-mère maternelle, pour le second le frère aîné du père et la soeur aînée de la mère, puis pour les autres on s’écartait.’ In Lower Brittany, according to Martine Segalen (1985, p. 345), the uncles and aunts came onto the scene for the third child, following two baptisms monopolized by grandparents. After the Second World War, also at Minot, the trend was to choose godparents from among people who were approximately the same age as the parents of the baptized. As the custom of choosing godparents within the family did not disappear, a move from the grandparents to the collateral members of the family can be seen: the spiritual kin are chosen from among cousins. A similar move towards collateral members, which in this case privileges also aunts and uncles, is to be found in Lower Brittany today, where it seems it is used to maintain contacts among members of the family who, due to migration, no longer live in the same locality. Sending birthday greetings to godchildren and attending their first communion are social obligations that preserve the perception of the bond. 11   In the Spanish town of Albacete, already in 1787 over 34 per cent of the godparents were chosen from among aunts and uncles. If to this figure are added the 6.5 per cent who were grandparents and the 1.9 per cent who were siblings of the baptized, it results in close kinship covering almost 43 per cent of the total godparenthoods (García González and Gómez Carrasco 2006). At Saint-Martin de Thoiry, in the French Department of Seine-et-Oise, the custom of giving mainly aunts and uncles as godparents was already well established in the 1820s. Also, between 1820 and 1933, half of the godparents for whom we have information were aunts and uncles (48 per cent). Adding the 12 per cent who were grandparents and the 13 per cent who were siblings results in the close kinship providing at least 76 per cent of the total number of godparents. Among the remaining godparents, most were cousins (23 per cent). The basic tendency did not change significantly throughout the period (Delwaulle 2000–2001). It would be interesting to evaluate the range (pan-European? Italo-FrenchSpanish? Parisian-Piedmontese?) of this change in the customs in favour of aunts and uncles, as well as to make a comparison in the times and ways in which it took place. In Sweden it has been suggested that an increase in the importance of kinship ties in general in the selection of godparents took place between the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century (Ericsson 2000, p. 276.) It is to be noted that Delwaulle based his figures exclusively on those baptisms where the reason for the choice of a particular godparent and/or their link with the newborn baby was indicated. It is possible that in the large number of registrations where nothing is indicated, godparents were chosen mainly on the basis of friendship with the parents of the newborn baby or for some other reason; and in any case the

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Italy, and was completed in the twentieth century, but this will only be confirmed with any degree of certainty by further research. With regard to Italy, it is worth mentioning a type of godparenthood that has played, and perhaps continues to play, an extremely important economic and social role in some areas of the country: the mafia godfatherhood. In this case, we are faced with a kind of relationship that, beginning with a real bond of godfatherhood, via a process that led to a deviation from its original meaning, has come to indicate a different set of relationships, those involving respect and loyalty between the head of a criminal organization and his underlings: it is not by chance that the boss is called ‘godfather’.12 Many studies on the social organization of mafia associations, both the Italian13 and north American14 branches, have stressed the role of comparatico in reinforcing bonds within the ‘family’. For example, when the organization received into its midst a ‘stranger’, that is, a person who had no ties of kinship with the mafia family, as soon as possible the godfather held his child at baptism; in this way he ritualized, cemented and, in some ways, protected the new relationship. If there were no opportunities for a baptism, he could resort to other forms of comparatico traditionally recognized, but not admitted by the Church (I will come back to this shortly). These relationships, then, often constituted a first and provisional basis, later to be reinforced with matrimonial ties (Anderson 1965). A final interesting aspect of this type of godfatherhood is its eminently vertical nature. While comparatico can also serve to cement relationships between those who belong to middling and low ranks of the

quota reserved for the aunts and uncles was lower. However, it seems certain that they were one of the most frequently chosen categories, much more than grandparents, for example. 12   This semantic deviation has certainly been reinforced in everyday use by Francis Ford Coppola’s famous trilogy of films, The Godfather, based on Mario Puzo’s book of the same name. In both the book and the film version, the relationship between the mafia godfatherhood and godfatherhood of baptism is explicit. In the first scene of the wedding between the daughter of Don Vito Corleone, in a masterly performance by Marlon Brando, the Godfather gives audience and receives those who have come to ask for favours; among them is an undertaker who laments that his daughter has been beaten up. The Godfather rebukes him because the man tries to buy a favour, while it would have been more correct to present himself as a friend, even though up to then he had not displayed signs of this friendship, despite the fact that the Godfather’s wife had held his unfortunate daughter at baptism. Among the undertaker’s ‘defects’ was the fact that he had failed to address Don Corleone as ‘Godfather’. 13   For example, Boissevain 1966. For a more general analysis of the functioning of nonmafia godparenthood in Sicily, see D’Onofrio 1987. For godparenthood models common in various parts of southern Italy see Palumbo 1987, 1991; Miller and Miller 1987; Resta 1987. 14   For example, Anderson 1965.

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mafia family, it is the relationship of all of its members with the summit,15 i.e. the godfather by antonomasia, which is the characteristic element of the system and guarantees that the duties of the ‘holy comparatico’ will always be respected. The vertical connotation is typical of other customs of the godfatherhood relationships, common at least throughout the twentieth century, above all in some parts of southern Italy, and which can be likened to customs of the mafia godfatherhood insofar as they sometimes go beyond the limits of legality. This is the case, for example, of the ‘political compare’, that is, when a person chooses as godfather for his child someone who, because of the important part he plays in the political system in local or national administration, can hand out ‘favours’ in exchange for votes and so forth (Piselli 1987). Despite significant exceptions, among which is the mafia godfatherhood, examining the evolution of godparenthood in baptism in Europe, the overall impression is that it has become increasingly irrelevant. However, if we look at the New World, we find a completely different picture. From the sixteenth century to the present day in the American colonies, godparenthood has continued to prosper. The characteristics of this fresh flowering of godparenthood deserve to be carefully examined, also because they will enable us to return later to the Old World to investigate little known phenomena, which can help to modify, in part at least, the impression of a social institution in irreversible decline. In the New World godparenthood was introduced a few decades before it was radically modified by the Tridentine reform. We know nothing of the number of godfathers and godmothers who attended the first baptisms celebrated in the Americas, partly because of the paucity of studies on the subject, and partly because of the serious shortage of sources. For these reasons I will refer only to post-Tridentine godparenthood. Some of the problems encountered by the ecclesiastics and other settlers who disembarked in those recently discovered lands had not been faced with such intensity since the Early Christian Era. They were confronted with a population of native pagans with cultures and lifestyles that were totally different from those to which the Europeans were accustomed. For the Church it was a question of initiating a process of evangelization on a large scale; for the others it meant identifying forms of social relationships that would allow them to establish formal ties with the indigenous populations. Baptism was a crucial means of achieving both goals, as, on the one hand, it sanctioned the acceptance of the new faith by the Indios,

15

  This relationship can be both direct and indirect in a chain of patronage (‘Friends of friends are my friends’): if A is patron of B and B of C, then C is also in some way A’s client (Boissevain 1966, pp. 24–25).

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and, on the other, it enabled the Spanish and Portuguese, by means of godparenthood, to establish bonds of kinship. The conversion of the natives continued at a steady pace throughout the sixteenth century, often resorting to means, such as mass baptisms, whose legitimacy was questioned during the Council of Trent. According to some anthropologists, conversion was encouraged by the existence among the local populations of rites of immersion similar to baptism (Bloch and Guggenheim 1981). Connie Horstman and Donald V. Kurtz (1979) observed that during this phase godparenthood was extremely important for two reasons. First, because it made it possible to create and formalize bonds of social patronage between the indigenous people and the Iberian elite, whose help and support the former desperately required given the dramatic socio-cultural transformation they were undergoing, worsened by the devastating epidemics that accompanied the conquistadores. Second, very soon the indigenous people began to resort to spiritual kinships to establish between themselves an effective network of social protection.16 According to Horstman and Kurtz, godparenthood was identified as ‘the’ instrument of social integration in Latin America to the detriment of other institutions such as brotherhoods,17 which the Spanish had tried to introduce without much success. The success of godparenthood seems to be due to the fact that it had an important competitive advantage: ‘We hypothesize that compadrazgo persisted and proliferated more widely than other existing institutions because of its superior adaptive ability, especially in terms of the wide choices it offered in the establishment of interpersonal relationships’ (Horstman and Kurtz 1979, p. 362). These authors, then, stressed the crucial characteristic of godparenthood: its ability to adapt to different situations, which allowed it to follow with ease social transformations that had got out of control, such as the ones the Indios were experiencing. The authors correctly point out the importance of being able to select spiritual kin according to strategies that were able, at different times, to satisfy different needs, while fully respecting the social norms regulating a particular local model of godparenthood. The data used by Horstman and Kurtz relate to central Mexico in the sixteenth century, and although they are typical of a crucial phase, i.e. the initial decades following the conquest and birth of new Latin American societies, they are clearly linked to the social context. The 16   Horstman and Kurtz also underlined the importance for children of having godparents who could act as supplementary parents in a context where mortality due to epidemics was rife. 17   The authors here bring to light Foster’s old thesis (1953), based on a comparison between Spain and the former American colonies. See the Introduction.

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indigenous societies of central and southern America were very different from one another, just as the environmental context in which they had developed was quite diverse. Finally also, the cultures of the colonizers, the Spanish and the Portuguese, were different from each other, and too often they are simplistically linked under the name of ‘Iberians’. Prudence is therefore necessary when drawing general conclusions on the basis of very fragmentary data (the studies of godparenthood in the New World during the Modern Age are also rare), and it is preferable to underline the variety of types of conduct. In Santiago del Chile during the seventeenth century, for example, godparenthood was used to establish or reinforce horizontal types of bonds between equals, though the vertical tendencies become stronger as they go down the social ladder. Very important is the fact that the populations of Spanish origin and of Indian origin did not use godparenthood to establish relationships with each other. The Spanish did not establish them even with leading members of the other community, nor did they limit themselves to acting as godfathers; neither did the Indios, who evidently had little interest in seeking protection from patronage. For example, in the parish of Santa Ana between 1641 and 1672 more than 82 per cent of the baptisms of the Indios were attended by godparents belonging to the same ethnic group (Zùniga 2002, pp. 287–301). The situation is quite different from the one described by Horstman and Kurtz. No traces, in fact, are to be found of one of the factors through which these authors explain the success of compadrazgo; namely the Indios’ search for protection by the Spanish elite. It is possible to speculate that a century later the indigenous society, which had been subjected to the extreme stresses of the Conquest, was by then stabilized and relied on a solidarity based on horizontal relationships to reach a new equilibrium. On the other hand, Hugo Nutini and Betty Bell (1980–1984), studying another area of Mexico, the state of Tlaxcala, described how from the seventeenth century onwards the remaining indigenous communities grew increasingly closed. Nutini and Bell suggested that this transformation brought about an increase in the importance for the comparatico relationship in comparison with that of godfather–godchild.18 The disappearance of spiritual relationships between the Indios and their Spanish rulers can be attributed to the withdrawal within themselves of the indigenous communities, which determined a greater horizontal tendency in godparenthood as a whole.19 18

 Nutini and Bell fail to point out that this transformation could be connected to the fact that both individual and mass baptism of adults had run out of candidates and that there was an increase in the number of baptisms of newborn children of parents converted to Christianity or born Christians. 19   Already from the eighteenth century the population of Spanish origin and the Indios gradually drew closer in new ways (Nutini and Bell 1980–1984, pp. 350 ff.)

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Obviously it cannot be excluded that, comparing the areas in Mexico with Santiago del Chile, we are merely faced with a different set of customs; on the other hand, anthropological studies of contemporary societies have underlined differences that still exist. The horizontal aspect of godparenthood in Santiago, however, seems significant, and this characteristic has been found in many godparenthood systems in Latin America today. The studies available for the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries seem to indicate that this characteristic was acquired shortly after the conclusion of the turbulent phase of transformation and adaptation described by Horstman and Kurtz, roughly at the time when in Catholic Europe the Council of Trent created trends that led to the verticalization of godparenthood, just the reverse of what was happening in Latin America. I will not dwell further on the developments of compadrazgo in the centuries following the Conquest, which have only rarely been explored. I will merely underline that godparenthood in Latin America seems to have manifested a state of continuous flux and change up to the present day (Nutini and Bell, 1980–1984). It is essential to highlight the ways in which godparenthood proliferated in the New World, and what the results were. As the number of godparents for baptism and confirmation could not be increased, given the draconian limits imposed by the Council of Trent, the populations of Latin America increased the opportunities that could create spiritual kinship, that is, those where it was possible to ask for a sponsor with whom to establish a comparatico relationship whose model was the godparenthood of baptism. Anglo-Saxon anthropologists, who were the first to take an interest in this, were astonished to discover a godfather for the first haircut, for the first nail cut, a godmother for the first ear piercing, a godfather for the new house or for the first motor scooter, customs still found today. In the state of Tlaxcala, Nutini and Bell have identified quite a number of different situations able to generate comparatico. In the communities with the least developed systems they counted at least 12, but more complex systems such as that in the village of Santa Maria Belén Azitzimititlán could have up to 33.20 Anthropologists who have studied compadrazgo have repeatedly stated that it is a typically Latin American social institution, and one that is radically different from the forms in Europe. Actually, it seems to me that these views can be attributed to a limited knowledge of European models of godparenthood, and especially of those in use in past centuries, rather than the actual facts. Of course there are obvious differences with Latin American godparenthood, due to a number of factors: the relationships 20   Nutini and Bell 1980–1984, p. 386. See the work of Nutini and Bell and Foster’s article (1953) for a synthesis of the ‘unofficial’ forms of Latin-American comparatico.

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between the Indios and the conquistadores in earlier times, the phenomenon of mestizo (racial mix) that followed, the religious syncretism between Catholicism and local religions (whose importance, however, should not be overestimated), and the very different social context in the New World, at least for the whole of the Modern Era. There are also close similarities between the paths taken by godparenthood on the two sides of the Atlantic. Surprisingly, much anthropological and historical writing on godparenthood fails to mention the fact that many of the ‘informal’ practices widespread in Latin America were also common in the Old World. Some anthropological investigation carried out in Italy in the 1950s and 1960s21 shows how popular forms of spiritual kinship, not sanctioned by the Church, were common in large areas. This is the case, for example, of the ‘comare de coppula’ (‘the comare of the bonnet’), that is, the woman who was in charge of washing the bonnet worn by the child at baptism in order to remove any oil used during the ceremony, and who, in this way, became a godmother.22 Among these forms of spiritual kinship appear the ‘comparatico di San Giovanni’,23 the ‘comare dell’orecchia’ (godmother of the ear),24 the compare of the first haircut,25 the ‘comparatico di Monte’,26 and a bewildering variety of numerous other cases could also be mentioned.27 21

  Anderson 1956, 1957. More recently, Signorini 1987.   Anderson 1957, for example, describes the characteristics of this practice in the Sicilian village of Riposto. Usually the choice of ‘comare de coppula’ was made when the godmother and godfather were chosen. Just like the ‘real’ godmother, after the baptism she was called ‘comare’ by the child’s parents, and she called the child figlioccio (‘godchild’). It is clear that in this case the comare de coppula seems to be an extra godmother. 23   By taking part in a rite that often involved jumping over a fire or embers on a particular night (24 June, the feast of St. John the Baptist, but other dates are also attested), the participants, usually teenagers if not children, became ‘compari of St. John’, united in a pact of love, friendship and brotherhood. These practices, already described by Anderson, have more recently been analysed in detail by Fine (1994) for Corsica. In the village of San Marco dei Cavoti in the Sannio area, the comparatico of St. John was not held on a particular day, but on a visit to the Church of St. John. Once the aspiring compari reached the stream near the chapel, they had to immerse their right hand in the water, reaching out for the other’s middle finger and reciting a special formula (Palumbo 1997, pp. 77–78). 24   The woman who first pierces the child’s ears for earrings. 25   The person who cuts the child’s hair for the first time. 26   It is a form of comparatico, found in many areas of southern Italy, organized for collective pilgrimages to particular sanctuaries, carrying out ritual gestures that vary from one sanctuary to another. Palumbo (1997, pp. 78–79) stresses its capacity to overcome traditional social barriers, between the sexes, social levels or inhabitants of hostile villages. 27   In France, for example, at least until the mid-twentieth century, it was customary to duplicate the godfather-godmother couple with a second couple, composed of children 22

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A comparison with what happened in Latin America is fascinating. Once the possibilities of obtaining compari officially recognized by the Church vanished or were very much reduced, alternative forms were introduced. As for Europe, it is possible that these popular forms of godparenthood experienced some kind of new awakening, suddenly proliferating after the Council of Trent as a reaction to new and much more restrictive legislation. This, however, is an assumption still unverified, and one that will prove difficult to test. If shown to be true, we would be confronted with a case of populations who did not welcome a forcibly imposed change and tried to find ways to soften its social impact and safeguard the structure of a network of relations that risked collapse. This hypothesis is partly confirmed by ample evidence of these practices in the mid-twentieth century. It is right, however, to proceed with care, as the existence of forms of spiritual kinship not recognized by the Church was already known at the end of the sixteenth century, when numerous diocesan synods tried to repress them. For example, the case of the ‘comare de coppula’ (the comare of the bonnet) was brought up at the Synod of Carpi in 1571 and in that of Amalfi in 1594, but the problem had already arisen even before the Council of Trent, at the Provincial Council of Benevento in 1470 (Corrain and Zampini 1970). It is not, then, a matter of searching for the origin of these practices, which are probably lost in the mists of time, but rather of measuring their diffusion and intensity before and after the Council, evidently a difficult task and perhaps an impossible one on account of the paucity of sources. If the differences between the Old and the New Worlds are not so marked as some scholars maintain, it would be interesting to ask why at one point a radical differentiation between the two emerged. In Europe godparenthood has declined and today has almost become a spent force, while in Latin America it has continued its course and is still flourishing, so much so that recently other forms have been established, without the Church’s authorization, like the godfather of the first scooter or the first car. The reasons for these different results have not yet been studied with sufficient attention. As far as this study is concerned, it is sufficient to or youngsters under the age of 15 to 16, sometimes considered the equivalent of pages and bridesmaids at a wedding, and therefore put at the head of the baptismal procession. This second couple, given different names in different areas, e.g. babillard, bon-parrain et bonnemarraine, bohuet et bouhète, seems to have furthered the newborn infant’s integration into local society, thanks also to the relative proximity in age between godfather, godmother and godchild. Van Gennep (1943, pp. 130–131), however, seems to be of the opinion that the only form of increase in the number of godparents is a kind of duplication of the couples (the ‘official’ godfather-godmother couple could be considered a duplication of the parent couple). The data available up to now clearly show that this supposition is erroneous.

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note that, while in Europe the Tridentine reform brought about a crisis in godparenthood, in America spiritual kinship found fertile ground on which to grow and develop, acquiring an importance in society perhaps superior to any that it had had in the Old World; it is likely that it was the lack of alternative institutions that produced this result. However, the rapid growth of godparenthood in the New World, in a legislative context that already reflected the Tridentine decrees, calls for caution when identifying the Council as the turning point in the long-term decline of this institution.28 Trent sounded the death knell on certain models of godparenthood, but not for the whole of the institution, as is shown by the tenacity with which populations in seventeenth-century Italy defended their own criteria of selection of godparents, in such a way as to frustrate attempts at reform. To explain with reasonable confidence the question of the causes for the decline of godparenthood, whose effects can still be seen today, it would be necessary to follow carefully the developments in the centuries subsequent to the sixteenth. This is, however, an almost unexplored field of investigation despite current research that offers hope for the future. As well as marking the end of medieval models of godparenthood, the sixteenth century saw the end of religious unity in Europe, already compromised, although not so seriously, by the schism with the Eastern Church in 1054, which marked the separation of a ‘Catholic’ Church and an ‘Orthodox’ Church. On the issue of godparenthood, Luther, Calvin and other reformers held different views, both among themselves and from Catholics.29 So if Catholic Europe from the second half of the sixteenth century experienced a standardization in godparenthood customs, at a continental level other barriers were progressively established, which gave rise to a new form of fragmentation of practices. I have already put forward some thoughts on Protestant Europe in Chapter 4, which can be referred to for a discussion on the different doctrines of Reformed Churches on godparenthood and spiritual kinship. As has already been mentioned, only Anabaptists completely rejected the institution of godparenthood, while Lutherans, Calvinists and Anglicans maintained the custom of godparents. Also in those parts of Europe where the Reformation had taken hold, practices similar to those in Italy were common, including the custom of giving numerous godfathers and godmothers, but between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries ecclesiastical and secular authorities on more than one occasion tried to 28

  I totally reject the interpretation of Mintz and Wolf (1950), who stated, without providing evidence, that the decline of godparenthood in Europe has to be related to the waning of a generic ‘feudal society’. 29   For a summary of this subject, see Spierling 2005.

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impose, by sumptuary laws, a restriction on the number of godparents, on the number of guests present at the baptismal festivities and on the cost of the baptismal gifts offered by the godparents. For example, in 1681 the Duke of Altenburg introduced a law that reduced the number of godparents, differentiating, however, the maximum number allowed according to social status: nobles were allowed more godparents than the bourgeoisie and craftsmen, who in turn could have more than peasants; these customs were common to many other German cities.30 Contemporary evidence suggests that these laws were not rigorously kept, and exceptions were the norm (Lynch 1986, p. 26). Today in many parts of the Protestant world, it is still customary to give one’s children numerous godfathers and godmothers,31 demoted by Luther to the rank of mere witnesses at the baptismal service. The German village of Neckarhausen in the region of Württemberg is the Protestant community whose godparenthood model has been the most thoroughly studied. I have already analysed the role that godparenthood played in the economic life of this community.32 I will merely add that David Sabean (1998) discovered that between 1700 and 1870 there was a continual change in the role of godfathers and godmothers that can be related to the transformation in marriage strategies. From an initial phase at the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century when esogamic trends prevailed, to the decades around the mid-eighteenth century, endogamic matrimonial choices gradually became more common, as can be seen in marriages between cousins; this made it possible to renew an alliance already established in one generation at the time of the next generation. At the same time, godparenthood also became increasingly ‘endogamic’; other cousins, who could not marry (marriage is a much less ‘repeatable’ event than baptism), were chosen as godparents. This is an interesting tendency, as it is possible to assume that faced with matrimonial strategies characterized by endogamy, godparenthood became a useful 30

  Mintz and Wolf 1950, p. 351. For a summary of the numerous sumptuary laws in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries in Germany, see Boesch 1900. Laws and regulations restricting the number of godparents are attested also in other ‘reformed’ states in Europe. For example, a law introduced in Iceland in 1746 established that each child baptized should have two godfathers and one godmother, regardless of gender; in the same period, the limit in force in Denmark and Norway was five spiritual kin altogether (Gunnlaugsson and Guttormsson 2000). 31   As an example from the past, we can cite Matheus Miller of Hapsburg (1625–1685), who gave his children three godparents; one came from his own family, one from his wife’s and one was a Lutheran minister. Sometimes a fourth godfather was added, chosen from among colleagues and business associates. Matheus himself had 41 godchildren (Safley 2000, pp 112–113). 32   See Chapter 4.

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means of compensation. At Neckarhausen, though, marriage and spiritual kinship seem to proceed at the same pace. I discovered an analogous situation in the community of Nonantola in Emilia, where between the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century there was a dramatic increase in matrimonial and spiritual endogamy following the reform of the right to participate in the possession of certain collective properties (the present ‘partecipanza’).33 Two cases are obviously insufficient to claim that a pattern existed, but certainly the link between the opening-up/closure of the marriage market and the practices of godparenthood deserves to be studied. Even though the godparenthood model in force at Neckarhausen presents other interesting characteristics, for example the preferential bond established by each nuclear family with a particular group of spiritual kin (once chosen for the eldest, the same godfathers and godmothers were convened for the baptisms of all the other children of the couple) or the combination of kinds of vertical patronage bonds with others with a horizontal tendency, e.g. with cousins, what needs to be underlined is, on the one hand, that local customs were in a state of continual transformation, and on the other, that this transformation did not correspond to a loss in the relevance of godparenthood, but rather to a change in its role. According to Sabean, the ‘modernization’ of Neckarhausen did not diminish the role of godparenthood bonds, but just served to modify it. Local institutions proved to be flexible and ready to change, and this included godparenthood, which, as far as flexibility is concerned, was second to none. It is once again worth reiterating that the history of godparenthood between the seventeenth and twentieth centuries, among both Catholics and Protestants, is more complicated than the common stereotype of a steady decline would lead us to believe. The ‘official’ elimination of spiritual kinship desired by Luther (as will be remembered, he felt that godparents were mere witnesses of the act and guarantors of Christian education) does not seem to have impoverished the social relevance of godparenthood 33   These lands were originally an emphyteusis made by the local abbey to the populus of Nonantola. At the beginning of the sixteenth century a considerable number of them were periodically shared out among the resident heads of the local families on the basis of the size of their nuclear family the (‘bocca viva’), exceptions being the landowners listed in the land register, the (‘bocca morta’), who were entitled to a share of other lands, based on the quotas of the land registers. However, to avert the danger of quotas assigned to each nuclear family being eroded by an influx of ‘foreigners’, in 1584 the ‘bocca viva’ ‘closed its books’, decreeing that only members of the original families and their direct descendants had the right to take part in the share. The right would be handed down to all the children, male and female, but the girls lost their share if they married outside the bocca viva, a clause which drastically modified in an endogamic sense the matrimonial strategies of the citizens of Nonantola. See Alfani 2007a, 2004d.

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or comparatico; evidently, in this situation customs filled the juridical void that was created. Even though godparents were not kinsmen, they were held to be people who commanded respect and towards whom there was a duty to behave correctly. On this basis a relationship was built that made it possible to set in motion the bonds of godparenthood and comparatico in an ever-changing variety of ways. A comparison between Catholics and Protestants from the sixteenth century onwards also involves the history of godparenthood for other reasons. As has already been seen, the Reformation raised religious barriers within Europe and created a fragmentation of godparenthood customs. However, in some cases it was godparenthood that proved to be useful in overcoming these barriers. From the seventeenth century, for example, it helped to moderate the hostility among German princes belonging to different denominations, and sometimes it was used in a very pragmatic way. This was the case of the Protestant prince of the city of Oettingen in northern Swabia, Albrecht Ernst, who chose for his daughter, born in 1666, 21 different godparents. The first on the list was Johan Philipp von Schönborn, the Archbishop-Elector of Mainz, whose Catholic faith and institutional and pastoral position took second place to reasons of state, at least in this instance. Among the godparents of Albrecht Ernst’s other children were often the Electors of Bavaria, also Catholics. In fact, after the Reformation, Oettingen was a city divided between two different rulers, one Protestant and one Catholic. The fact that some of the rulers of Oettingen had sided with the Counter-Reformation did not stop them from inviting Protestants to be godparents, especially the Duke of Württemberg.34 Practices that are in some ways similar have been described 34   Rajkay and Reinhard 1989, p. 163. Oettingen, a city divided between two denominations and two rulers since 1553–1554 is an extremely interesting case. On the basis of the confessional divide, two separate social and economic communities developed, which can also be seen from the distribution of the two confessions in the town. In 1563– 1806 Catholics gave their children only one godfather or a godfather and a godmother. Among Protestants there were at least two, and not infrequently there were larger groups; the difference is clearly due to the Tridentine decrees. Godfathers were often present at the baptisms of more than one child of the couple; among Catholics, the average number of different people asked to preside at the baptisms of all the children of a given couple was 2.6, while among Protestants it increased to 4.3. In the sixteenth century godparents were almost always chosen from outside kinship. Only after 1600 did the custom of choosing godparents from their own kinsmen begin to develop, at the same time between Catholics and between Protestants (evidently confessional barriers did not inhibit the spread of customs); it seems that the forerunners of the change were the nobility, members of one of the two courts and members of the municipal administration. This is only one example among the many transformations in the customs noted by Barbara Rajkay; in Oettingen, too, godparenthood was a live social institution, ready to adapt to changing circumstances. As well as the article quoted above, see Rajkay 1999.

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in another area which from a religious point of view was split: the Balkans, divided between Orthodox Christians and Muslims. Eugene A. Hammel, using data mainly from the first half of the twentieth century, has indicated that in the area of former Yugoslavia with both Christian and Muslim populations, Muslims were often chosen as compari, or ‘kum’ in SerboCroat, circumventing a local Orthodox norm requiring that a godfather should belong to the Church and have a good reputation. This was done by resorting to a kind of nominee, in other words, a friend of the secret godfather, who was a Christian and was thus ‘officially’ acceptable. This person appeared in the register of baptisms, but often the people involved remembered neither who he was nor his name as he was not recognized as kin, despite the decrees of canon law. The secret Muslim godfather was present both at the official ceremony as well as at the rites celebrated in the house of the baptized. In the same way, a comparatico relationship could be established by the attendance of an Orthodox at the circumcision of a newborn Muslim. As well as establishing inter-confessional relationships, in this area godparenthood was used to create inter-ethnic relationships, often equally problematic: for example between Serbs and Wallachians or between Serbs and gypsies (Hammel 1968). This essentially analogous use of godparenthood in such different contexts as sixteenth-century Germany and the western Balkans in the twentieth century seems to me to be a very good example of the way in which this institution could be adapted and ‘interpreted’ in order to be able to respond to contingent problems; especially worth remembering is its capacity to heal social fractures, of which religious and ethnic barriers are only one example. A comparison with the Orthodox world is as interesting as the one with the Protestant world. It will be remembered that it was the Eastern Church that encouraged the first formulation of the concept of spiritual kinship, and it maintained this impetus for a long time. Until the eve of the Council of Trent, the East and West were in a similar situation; it was the decrees passed at Trent that introduced different characteristics. As confrontation with Protestantism was not a pressing issue, the Orthodox Church does not seem to have felt the need to reform godparenthood. Today it still recognizes an extensive form of spiritual kinship, with its relative matrimonial impediments, which even go beyond those in force in Italy at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Prudence, however, is

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required when making generalizations, as there are few specific studies on the evolution of godparenthood in Orthodox canon law. Generally speaking, matrimonial impediments for spiritual kinship officially recognized by the Orthodox Church obviously involve godfather and godchild, and extend, then, to all their relatives up to the third degree, counting the generations.35 This extension to all relatives also includes the other spiritual kin of a particular godparent. In addition to the impediments for spiritual kinship and for compaternitas, whether direct or direct, and for spiritual brotherhood, marriages between the godchildren of the same godparent are not allowed even if they belong to different families. For this reason, aspiring godfathers and godmothers are often urged to baptize children of only one sex; in this way they do not risk running into the danger of this ‘extreme’ form of spiritual incest. Finally, in many areas it was considered expedient to give the children very young godfathers and godmothers, a practice opposed for a long time in the Catholic world, as in this way a relationship of friendship could be established between them, which was believed to help guarantee that godparents effectively fulfil their task as tutors.36 These final considerations, however, seem to lead us away from the domain of the law to that of customs, and, at this moment, with regard to the Orthodox world, I am unable to trace a clear boundary between the official position of the Church and that perceived and adopted by the population and the local clergy. Two observations, though, can certainly be made: first, that the place occupied by customs, that is, the role they play in defining the forms and contents of the social relationships based on godparenthood, is considerable; second, that the local godparenthood systems vary considerably from one community to another. It should be clear that the second observation somehow derives from the first, as the variability of the systems and models of godparenthood go together with the relevance of customs in relation to rules. For a concrete example of an Orthodox system of godparenthood, refer to the case of the Greek island of Karpathos, studied by Bernard Vernier (1984), which I have already discussed. What has been said about the evolution of godparenthood in the Catholic world after Trent and on the situation in Protestant and in 35   If we count the degrees of kinship in this way, father and son are relationships of first degree and grandfather and grandson of second degree. First cousins are fourthdegree relations, because in the calculation it is necessary to go back two generations, from grandson to grandfather, and then go down another two in another line, from grandfather to grandson. 36   I am grateful to Anastasia Falierou for supplying me with valuable information on godparenthood practices in Greece. The custom of exhorting godparents to baptize children of only one sex is cited also by Bernard Vernier (1984, p. 76, note 37) for the island of Karpathos, where usually the men baptize only baby girls and the women only baby boys.

Appendix Literature on Godparenthood Throughout this book I have made references to research on godparenthood carried out in very different fields: anthropology, social history, church history, historical demography and so on. However, apart from a brief synopsis in the Introduction, I have not dealt fully with the literature on this subject. To simplify reading, I decided not to present in one place the main results produced by the different lines of study and the research that they generated. This decision was made because this was not indispensable for a full understanding of the text. However, it does not mean that a more detailed review of the literature is not useful, especially considering that the subject matter is relatively new, at least for Italian historical research. I propose here to provide such a review; it will not only add to the non-professional reader’s knowledge of godparenthood but will also provide a tool for those involved in research. Inevitably, there will be some repetition of views already expressed. The idea of examining the state of godparenthood research is not new. In 1986 the American historian Joseph H. Lynch, in a book on godparenthood and spiritual kinship in the Early Medieval Period, aimed to trace the course of research up to that time. He examined the existing literature in two chapters, one dedicated to historiography prior to 1880 and one dealing with the subsequent period. Although Lynch’s work still provides an adequate overview of early historiography, over the last 20 years there has been a wealth of major contributions to this field. Lynch based his own analysis on the distinction between four ‘traditions’ of research, each of which posed the problem of the genesis, development and nature of godparenthood and spiritual   Lynch, Godparents and Kinship in Early Medieval Europe (1986). Another study offering a synthesis is that by Hugo Nutini and Betty Bell (1980–1984). This, however, deals exclusively with research on Latin American compadrazgo.    A weakness of Lynch’s study is that it concentrates almost exclusively on AngloAmerican and German research. Moreover, it completely ignores numerous studies produced by French and some Italian researchers. With regard to the study of specifically historical research, Lynch pays more attention to the Early Medieval Period than to later periods, certainly following his own interests. He therefore perpetuates some judgements (or prejudices), mostly based on Mintz and Wolf’s key essay, which I will discuss shortly.

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kinship: the ecclesiastical, the literary-folkloric, the anthropological and the historical traditions. Clear distinctions still remain, even though in the course of time there have been important contacts and exchanges, for example, between the anthropological and historical traditions where it is even possible to speak of a relationship of ‘derivation’. This approach seems the best way of explaining the developments in research on godparenthood and spiritual kinship, so I will take this as my starting point and deal briefly with the two oldest traditions, ecclesiastical and literary-folkloric, then give more space to anthropological and historical traditions. The ecclesiastical tradition has its roots in the Middle Ages. After a long period when these topics were ignored, this line of study was revived by Abbot Jules Corblet, who in 1881 published his Histoire du sacrement de Baptême, in which he presents a dynamic picture of godparenthood, underlining its evolution in the course of history. Corblet’s book is an excellent compendium of ancient, medieval and modern sources, and gives a wealth of examples, whose sources of references, however, are not always clear. It has been widely used and quoted as a catalogue of examples; unfortunately, it is also the source of a series of errors that became very common in later historiographic works, which I have already dealt with in the Introduction. In the years following the publication of Corblet’s book, the ecclesiastical tradition moved in various directions. First, one line of ‘direct’ research dealt with the discovery, translation and reconstruction of new sources like the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, which made it possible to contradict the opinion that sponsores were restricted to the baptism of infants, while absent at the baptism of adults. Second, a ‘liturgical-pastoral’ line developed, one that was oriented towards the reconstruction and interpretation of complex juridical changes related to godparenthood and spiritual kinship. Finally, after the Second World War, a third line of study emerged, which could be called ‘pastoral-historical’, whose objective was to revitalize rites and practices that were seen to be in decline, especially in the Catholic Church. What was being sought were the religious functions these customs had had; in the case of godparenthood, 

 Lynch proposes 1775–1880 as dates of reference. In his opinion the reasons for renewed interest in godparenthood are to be sought in an increasingly secularized society, which encouraged some leading clergy to look to the Early Church for models of a more actively religious lifestyle.    For example, the belief that the French ternary model (two godfathers and a godmother for boys, and vice versa for girls) was predominant in Europe up to the Council of Trent. 

  See Lynch 1986, pp. 35 ff. for an in-depth discussion of the results of this research.   See Bailey 1951; Kearney 1925 is also still useful.



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what was clarified was the role of godparents as the tutors of children’s religious and moral education. The tradition of Church historians has often come close to this ecclesiastical tradition. However, as the most interesting stimuli in this field originated from the attempt to create a social history of ecclesiastical institutions and sacraments, I will deal with this when I discuss the historical line of study in general. In comparison with this tradition, the literary-folkloric tradition has taken interest in a much wider range of documents, and has posed wider issues, less conditioned by specific concerns. It is, however, not as systematic in investigating the different aspects of godparenthood. The references to godparents and spiritual kinship in medieval and modern literary sources, such as the lives of saints, sermons and novellas, are often extremely interesting, just as are references in non-literary sources, such as family records, synodal statutes and records of trials, which have caught the attention of scholars of folklore from time to time. Sometimes these sources make it possible to reconstruct social practices based on a godparenthood relationship, and I have often resorted to them, in particular in Chapter 3. Scholars working in the field of literary-folkloric tradition have not dealt directly with the problem of godparenthood, or, if they have, they have not been much concerned with one of its key features in the Medieval and Modern age: comparatico, i.e. the relationship established between the child’s godparents and parents. This is probably because references to godparenthood are usually included in a more general study of birth and the rites, usages and beliefs with which it is associated, and therefore do not have their own autonomous ambit. It was probably Arnold Van Gennep’s famous Manuel de folklore français contemporain (1943), and especially the first volume of this work, Du berceau à la tombe (‘From the cradle to the grave’), that determined that studies on folklore were organized along these lines. In this volume Van Gennep deals with godparenthood as a secondary component of baptism, which was seen as a fundamental rite of passage enabling the non-Christian to enter the Christian world.

   See Van Molle 1964. It will be remembered that if this is the role that historically the Church attributed to godparents, at least from the time when infant baptism became widespread, there is reason to doubt that godparents ever really fulfilled it.    Van Gennep occupies an important place in the history of anthropology on account of his general theory on rites of passage, formulated in Les rites de passage (1909).

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The work of Van Gennep provides valuable evidence of customs once widespread in France but already dying out. With regard to Italy we owe similar thanks to the exhaustive investigation of Cleto Corrain and Pierluigi Zampini (1970), which is worth mentioning for its variety of subject matter and broad chronological view. In particular, starting from a meticulous study of diocesan synods, the two authors highlighted the existence, from the Late Middle Ages, of very common ‘non-official’ forms of spiritual kinship, not recognized by the Church, such as the ‘comare de coppula’ or the ‘comparatico di San Giovanni’. Studies based on ecclesiastical and literary-folkloric traditions have gradually built up a corpus of information, which, despite some obvious gaps, nevertheless constitutes an invaluable resource. However, in recent years, the most original contributions on the subject of godparenthood have been produced in the area of the other two traditions (historical and anthropological) and at the point where these two lines of study converge: historical anthropology. I will therefore treat together the work on godparenthood produced by historians and anthropologists. The initial impetus of the historical-anthropological tradition can certainly be fully traced to the field of anthropology. As was mentioned in the Introduction, anthropologists took a much earlier interest in godparenthood than historians, and, at least for a while, the topic enjoyed considerable favour, which is why the corpus of their studies is far more extensive than other lines of research. Anthropologists encountered godparenthood in Latin America, where systems of compadrazgo (comparatico) prospered, going well beyond the limits permitted by the Catholic church as well as causing surprise in scholars coming from Reformed Churches, for whom the notion of spiritual kinship was alien. Compadrazgo increasingly appeared in papers throughout the first half of the twentieth century.10 Benjamin D. Paul in 194211 was the first to attempt a synopsis of anthropological research on godparenthood. Paul viewed godparenthood as one of the main forms of ‘ritual kinship’ and provided the conceptual framework for further studies.12 In 1950 an article, which was to be of fundamental importance, was published in the Southwestern Journal of Anthropology. Its authors, Sidney W. Mintz and Eric R. Wolf, outlined what in the following decades    He also initiated very fruitful research, later furthered by others. See Hainard and Kaehr 1981. Gélis’s research (1984) can be placed alongside these studies. 10   See Lynch’s (1986) reconstruction, p. 59. 11   Paul’s doctoral dissertation was never published and I have not been able to read it myself. However, it was remarkably influential on account of Mintz and Wolf’s article, which I will deal with shortly. 12

  I dealt more fully with Paul’s work in the Introduction.

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would, for anthropologists, become the history of godparenthood from its origins to contemporary societies, which they were able to study in the field.13 In just nine pages, in what was a kind of introduction to the actual essay, the authors reconstructed the historical genesis of ‘ritual coparenthood’. A reference to Paul is made explicit in this phrase. I will not go into further details of Mintz and Wolf’s article, to which I have referred on various occasions in this book. I will merely recall that the authors failed to recognize that the Council of Trent signalled a turning point in the history of godparenthood, but it is due to them that ‘adaptiveness’, one of the institution’s key characteristics, was clearly identified. It would be wrong to be too severe on Mintz and Wolf’s essay, which, given the times and the materials at their disposal, is remarkable. It is not possible to pass an equally positive judgement on those who, in the following years, held that the famous essay had had the last word on the history of godparenthood. Certainly this rapid review of almost two thousand years of history in nine pages has outlived its usefulness and its influence lasted longer than it should have. Actually, the authors obtained most of their historical information from the work of Abbot Corblet, assuring its influence on future studies and building a bridge with the ecclesiastical tradition. Over 20 years later, in 1972, Stephen Gudeman14 wrote a commentary on Mintz and Wolf’s history of godparenthood. After having described the work of his predecessors as a ‘superb contextual account of the history of “ritual kinship”’, the author concentrates on the meaning of spiritual kinship for those who were part of it, and on the theological development of the subject, paying particular attention to the Medieval Period. Gudeman centred his attention on the ‘ideal’ quality of comparatico, often described as the perfect model of social relations. In simple terms, the perceived sacredness of the relationship, which has its origins in the rite of baptism, is fundamental to the sense of closeness, solidarity and respect that should bind the compari. Gudeman’s interpretation, however, seems excessively narrow, as it is almost exclusively based on Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica,15 and has recently been criticized.16 13

  Mintz and Wolf, An Analysis of Ritual Co-parenthood (compadrazgo), 1950.  Later, the author studied the topic of godparenthood from a different point of view (Gudeman 1975). 15   We must bear in mind that the concept of spiritual kinship and the institution of godparenthood were not definitely established in any theological work, council etc., but are, rather, the product of a long and gradual process of construction and elaboration. They are, therefore, historically determined rather than theologically inspired. See Chapter 1. 14

16

  In particular, by Anita Guerreau-Jalabert (1995), who claimed that Gudeman and other anthropologists, while rightly underlining that the meaning of baptism is to be found in the explicit contrast between concepts such as flesh and spirit, blood and water, original

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The anthropological line of research into the history of godparenthood is close to the one which, shifting the field of investigation from Latin America to Spain, looked in this area for analogies with the compadrazgo practices that for decades had aroused scholars’ curiosity. The basic assumption was that, at the time of the Conquest, a ‘Spanish’ model of godparenthood was transplanted to America. This interpretation is due to an article by George M. Foster in 1953,17 which linked the institution of comparatico with confraternities, claiming that both fulfilled a specific ‘function’: to create cohesion and social integration, creating a network of relationships which in a situation of crisis could come into action and made it easier to face difficulties. According to Foster, in Spanish society in the Late Middle Ages the two institutions existed side by side and were both equally recognized. Later in Spain it was the confraternities that became more important, while in Latin America it was the comparatico that prevailed on account of its similarity to practices typical of pre-Columbian religions. It is not possible here to examine thoroughly Foster’s theses, but it is worth noting that he does not always provide convincing evidence in support of his assumptions, especially when he leaves the Contemporary Age to deal with past centuries.18 The Balkans and Greece have been studied even more closely than Spain. Generally speaking, what has aroused the curiosity of scholars has been the opportunity to examine cases of European godparenthood that are as alive and vital as those in Latin America. Moreover, it has been ascertained that godparenthood in the Orthodox Church differs in many respects from that in use among Catholics; the Council of Trent marks, from this point of view, a definite watershed. Eugene A. Hammel19 was the first to make a study of this approach. His aim was to analyse the way in which a single social institution (godparenthood) was used, at different times, in a context in which it was possible to resort to various alternative

sin and eternal salvation, carnal kinship (human) and spiritual kinship (divine), have made limited and inadequate use of theological references to understand how the rite of baptism was part of a far more complex elaboration, one that has to be taken into account for a correct understanding of the meaning of the rite and the way it was put into practice. For this interpretation, refer to the author’s article. 17   Foster, Cofradía and Compadrazgo in Spain and Spanish America, 1953. 18

  Among the studies on Spanish godparenthood in the Contemporary Age, Pitt-Rivers certainly deserves mention. In his famous book, People of the Sierra (1976a), he successfully described practices in use in certain areas of Andalusia. Later, Pitt-Rivers continued his research on godparenthood, abandoning Spain to deal with more general issues (e.g. 1976b, 1995). 19   Hammel, Alternative Social Structures and Ritual Relations in the Balkans, 1968.

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social ‘structures’, all capable of fulfilling a particular ‘function’.20 The author then examined the position of godparenthood within a general system of exchange, emphasizing mechanisms such as reciprocity, respect, integration in matrimonial strategies, the healing of social breakdowns and blood feuds, and even the establishment of inter-ethnic links. In the following years anthropologists21 have continued to study godparenthood in Greece and the Balkans; in fact, this line has finally broken away from Latin American studies. Undoubtedly, the main advantage has been that these studies have been freed from the ‘idol’ of compadrazgo. The study of Latin America remains the richest field. New local studies have examined compadrazgo from different perspectives, taking into account the gradual decline of the monopoly of the functionalists and the emergence of new methodological approaches.22 Hugo Nutini and Betty Bell, in particular, have described in detail the system of compadrazgo in use in the Mexican village of Santa Maria Belén Azitzimititlán, not limiting themselves to that derived from baptism, but extending their investigation to numerous ‘non-official’ forms adopted by the inhabitants. In all, they identified 31 occasions that gave rise to a tie of comparatico.23 Methodologically, the most innovatory feature has been the decision to unite the ‘classical’ local study relating to the present day with an attempt to reconstruct a historical development of compadrazgo from the arrival of the first Spanish missionaries in 1519, highlighting the gradual acceptance of elements of syncretism with local traditions.24 As well as in Spain, the Balkans, Greece and Latin America, comparatico has sporadically caught the attention of anthropologists working in other

20

  ‘The analysis … had to explore, if not resolve, the issue of alternative structures for social relationships and the maintenance of the total system, as well as that of manipulation of such alternatives in everyday interaction. The book is thus an attempt to elucidate the nature of cultural and social patterning from the standpoint of a singular institution. It is at the same time, although imperfectly, a structural, functional, cultural, and behavioural account.’ (Hammel 1968, p. 3). 21   Chock 1974; Dimitrievic-Rufu 1990; Du Boulay 1984; Filipovic 1960; Hatzaki 1986; Pitt-Rivers 1976b; Vellioti 1987. Among the more recent lines of research particularly worth mentioning is Bernard Vernier’s study of the island of Karpathos, which I discuss in Chapters 3 and 10 (Vernier 1984, 1991 and 1999). 22   It is enough to mention Bloch and Guggenheim 1981; Christinat 1989; Osborn 1968; Signorini 1979, 1986; Van der Berghe and Van der Berghe 1966. 23  Nutini and Bell, Ritual Kinship: the Compadrazgo System in Rural Tlaxcala, 1980– 1984. 24   See Chapter 10.

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areas.25 Research in France26 has been prolific, predictably, as there are a great many French historians who have taken an interest in these topics. Since the 1970s, under the influence of Lévi-Strauss, French ethnologists have begun to take an interest in kinship systems in contemporary rural areas and in past communities. In this context, godparenthood is seen as part of the reproduction mechanisms of biological kinship, in conformity with forms that gradually prove to be subject to change, according to time and place,27 and that, at least in France, involved practices such as namegiving.28 Later, the interest of French anthropologists extended to other topics. Agnès Fine, for example, formulated an interesting interpretation of some little-known aspects of spiritual kinship and godparenthood, making use of a great deal of ethnographical-folkloric material.29 In particular, the author made a thorough study of the relationship between godparents and godchildren, putting them into the whole context of the relationships generated by baptism, and evidencing the exchange of both material and spiritual services between the two parties. Gallatin Anderson (1956, 1957) was the first to study comparatico in Italy. His pioneering studies carried out in the 1950s into widespread comparatico practices witness the existence of a considerable number of forms not recognized by the Church and already at that time in the process of declining.30 Italian anthropologists were tardy in responding to the challenge presented by Anderson. However, in the 1980s Italo Signorini dedicated much energy to the study of godparenthood, playing a key role in providing encouragement and stimulus. Certainly, the interest of the author in this topic derived primarily from the reading of the rich research studies relating to compadrazgo. He himself published articles in this line of study, following fieldwork carried out in the Mexican village of San Mateo del Mar.31 Signorini, moreover, was the first to raise the issue of common godparenthood practices in Italy, which led to his editorship of 25

  Hart 1977; Stirrat 1975.   Bouteiller 1970; Zonabend 1978; Segalen 1985. 27   Compared with some of the first interpretations, which were too cut and dried, more recent research carried out in different subject areas than anthropology, for example historical demography, which I will come back to later, have shown that usually very different strategies in the selection of spiritual kin went hand in hand. In particular, the choice of a biological relation as godfather was not as common as some have speculated. See the data presented in Chapter 10. 28   See Burguière 1984; Burguière, Klapisch-Zuber and Zonabend 1980. 29   Fine, Parrains, marraines. La parenté spirituelle en Europe, 1994. 30   Methodologically, Anderson made some doubtful choices; in fact, rather than doing fieldwork, he only interviewed a small number of Italian immigrants in the United States. 31   For an overview, see Signorini 1979. 26

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a monographic issue of the journal ‘L’Uomo’, with the significant title: ‘Forme di comparatico italiano’ (‘Forms of Italian comparatico’, Signorini 1987). The authors of the articles published in the journal finally managed to take research a step further than Anderson’s study by thoroughly analysing local systems of godparenthood and in some cases from an interesting perspective of change in time, while limiting themselves to the twentieth century or the end of the nineteenth century.32 Berardino Palumbo, for example, at the beginning of research that he later developed, described the model of godparenthood in force in San Marco dei Cavoti, a rural community in the area of the Sannio south of Rome. He combined direct observation, interviews with inhabitants of different ages and the classification of data from parish registers. A complex picture emerged, in which godparenthood in baptism and confirmation combined with nonofficial forms of comparatico and in which godmothers and godfathers played radically different symbolic and practical roles. However, a variety of diverse strategies of selection, always to be found together, acquired quite a different relevance according to the period. Between 1880 and 1980, the godparenthood system as a whole was subject to changes that pointed not to a loss of relevance but to a gradual adaptation, pursuing diverse objectives according to the contemporary social changes in the the village (Palumbo 1987, 1991, 1997). The anthropological tradition actually ‘invented’ the question of the role played by godparenthood within society; its complexity and difficulties of interpretation have given rise to stimulating reflections, which still retain their interest. However, this tradition has not been able to reconstruct the history of the institution in a convincing way. Undoubtedly, the long absence of historians partly explains this lack of success, but it also has to be said that those among the anthropologists who have tried to look back in time have always done it with compadrazgo in mind, that is, a specific form, both historically and culturally determined, of a social institution susceptible to change. From the time of Mintz and Wolf, medieval godparenthood has been directly likened to that of contemporary Latin America; in fact, the latter has been used to formulate hypotheses about the former. In defining models of contemporary godparenthood, Nutini and Bell emphasized the importance of a gradual syncretism with local pagan traditions; this observation should, on its own, be sufficient to cast doubt on the validity of such an analysis. The historical studies available today also caution prudence. Anthropological tradition is invaluable for the historian of godparenthood. Given the complexity of the forms of social development connected to this institution, and the difficulty in obtaining traces in 32

  See especially the essays by Miller and Miller and by Berardino Palumbo.

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historical sources, anthropology provides first of all a considerable quantity of examples that can be used to make a comparison, albeit a cautious one. Secondly, anthropological literature has had, and continues to have, a key role in providing historical research with questions and hypotheses, all, however, needing verification. Without doubt, the interest shown by historians in godparenthood derives from the anthropologists’ enthusiasm for compadrazgo, also taking into account attempts to look for European antecedents. This influence really began to become apparent from the 1970s. References to spiritual kinship had already been found in many works of medievalists, as references in sources are by no means uncommon. However, an incentive to deal directly with the question was lacking. Normally, these authors were not aware of the research being carried out in the anthropological field, and they did not know how to make the most of the possibilities that this research offered. Moreover, as Lynch pointed out, the sources led them to emphasize the godfather–godson relationship, in comparison with that of comparatico, and to interpret it as a means of creating a link for political ends.33 It was only during the 1970s and 1980s that historians and, above all, the Early Medieval specialists, began to study godparenthood seriously. After a promising start,34 in 1986 Lynch’s Godparents and Kinship in Early Medieval Europe was published. The author’s aim was to reconstruct the origins and development of the forms of spiritual kinship from the time of the late Roman Empire to the end of the Carolingian Period. He began by giving an overview of the godparenthood research carried out up to then, to which I have often referred. The work occupies an important place in the studies on godparenthood, as its considerable influence in anthropological and historical fields has made it one of the main links between the two traditions of research. The reconstruction of the genesis and the evolution of godparenthood in the early centuries of the Christian Era and the Early Middle Ages, as well as highlighting many of the previously neglected elements, also highlighted numerous factual errors, which for decades had been transmitted within the anthropological tradition.35

33

  Lynch 1986, pp. 74 ff. Among the most famous cases of ‘political comparatico’ is the baptism in 781 of Charlemagne’s son, whose godfather was Hadrian I. This event has been seen as a crucial moment in the sealing of the alliance between France and the Pope. See Angenendt 1973 for a study of the spiritual kinship relations between the papacy and the Carolingians. 34   Bennett 1977; Patlagean 1978. 35   In godparenthood studies of the Early Middle Ages see also Bernhard Jussen’s (1991) and Anita Guerreau- Jalabert’s effort of interpretation (1995, 2004). The latter is the author of some of the best material written up to now on the subject. Finally, see Cramer 1993.

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The Late Middle Ages and the very early Modern Age have also been the subject of research,36 even though studies that go beyond the sixteenth century are extremely rare. Godparenthood has been thoroughly and systematically studied in only one area of Europe: in Tuscany, and in particular in Florence, by Louis Haas (1989, 1995–1996, 1998) and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber (1976, 1980, 1985, 1990, 1992), already mentioned in the Introduction. After a paucity of studies on godparenthood in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,37 research once again gained momentum with work on the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries,38 especially if the anthropological-historical line of study is taken into consideration, but I will come back to this shortly. An exception to this tendency was the research carried out by Church historians who, by contrast, carefully examined the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries on account of the Council of Trent and the events linked to its application. John Bossy, in particular, interpreted godparenthood as one of the elements on which the ‘social miracle’ of universal love was based; in other words, of social integration (Bossy 1973, 1979, 1985, 1998a). Bossy’s analysis is especially interesting, because it attempts to highlight how godparenthood changed in time, both from a legal-liturgical point of view and from its role in society, using a method that has been called ‘social history of sacraments’,39 to which I have often referred. There is also a recent line of research which has already made a remarkable contribution to the knowledge of godparenthood and promises to continue to do so in the future: historical anthropology.40 Anthropologists who chose past societies for their field of investigation and decided to adopt some of the methods of historical research clearly had in mind the ‘classical’ texts about godparenthood formulated by the 36

  Jussen 1992; Pegeot 1982; Teuscher 1998.   For Italy, two authors must be mentioned: Gérard Delille (1988) examined some local models of godparenthood, interpreting them as components of complex family strategies; Nicole Reinhardt (2000) analysed the political use that the senators in Bologna made of godparenthood, for the first time highlighting the interesting question of the choice of a legate, that is, of someone who substituted for a godfather who either could not or did not wish to be present personally at the baptism; outside Italy, Bernard Vincent (1988). Some recent research has also touched on the Protestant area: Coster 2002; Spierling 2005; Rajkay 1999; Rajkay and Reinhard 1989; Fagerlund 2000. 38   See especially Bigi, Ronchi and Zambruno 1981; Schlumbohm 1995; García González and Gómez Carrasco 2006. For the Protestant areas, see Ericsson 2000; Gunnlaugsson and Guttormsson 2000. 39   Some of Bossy’s views on godparenthood have been examined again and in depth by Adriano Prosperi (1997). 40   See Viazzo 2000 on the genesis and evolution of historical anthropology. 37

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anthropological tradition. For this reason considerable attention is paid in their writings to this topic, something that is lacking in the work of those who have a background in historical studies. Historical anthropology has in the last 20 years produced research on godparenthood that can be attributed to two main lines of study. On the one hand, much energy has been dedicated to clarifying the origin of compadrazgo, directly examining the moment when it was introduced into the New World.41 On the other, researchers have tried to identify the role of godparenthood in the social and economic life of European societies in the past.42 Still more recently, another discipline close to history, historical demography, has begun to show an interest in godparenthood. Also in this case, the range of topics studied has expanded from the initial interest inspired by research of an anthropological nature, focused on narrower issues, as is the case with name-giving.43 This is a feature of French historical demography, which has taken most interest in this question. With regard to these latter developments, although only a few results have been published, the amount and quality of research in progress offer hope for the future.44 As a suitable conclusion to this survey of godparent historiography, we must mention La Parenté Spirituelle, edited by Françoise Héritier-Augé and Elisabeth Copet-Rougier. Published in 1995, the book is extremely important, first because the quality of the article reflects in many respects the current state of research, and second because, even with its mainly anthropological character, it opens doors to fundamental historical contributions. The dialogue between disciplines (history, anthropology, demography …), is certainly the way that today appears to offer the most promise for the future of godparenthood research.

41   See Horstman and Kurtz 1979; Zùniga 2002. Recent studies have also been made of the role played by spiritual kinship in the slave population: see Lugão Rios 2000. 42   I refer in particular to David W. Sabean’s research, which I discussed in detail in Chapters 3 and 10. In Kinship in Neckarhausen, 1700–1870 (1998), he analysed the role of godparenthood from the perspective of change in time. This book is a sequel to a previous work, Property, Production and Family in Neckarhausen (1990). See also Lanzinger 2002. 43   In this field, a fundamental role was played by the Entretiens de Malher in 1980 and by the Proceedings that were published (Dupaquier, Bideau, Ducreux 1984). 44   Among various research in progress, there is Cristina Munno’s attempt to apply the formal instruments of network analysis to the study of godparenthood (Munno 2005); I have also contributed to this line of research, but adopting a less formalized approach (Alfani 2006a). Also worth mentioning is the research begun by Vincent Gourdon, who, influenced by sociological rather than anthropological research, aims to underline how the transformation in time of godparenthood practices can be related to wider issues, like secularization, individualization and medicalization (Gourdon 2005).

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PATLAGEAN, E. (1978), ‘Christianisation et parentés rituelles: le domaine de Byzance’, in Annales ESC, 33, pp. 625–636 PAUL, B. D. (1942), Ritual Kinship: with Special Reference to Godparenthood in Middle America, PhD thesis, University of Chicago PEGEOT, P. (1982), ‘Un exemple de parenté baptismale à la fin du Moyen Age. Porrentruy 1482–1500’, in Les Entrées dans la Vie. Initiations et Apprentissages, Presses Universitaires de Nancy, Nancy, pp. 53–70 PERINETTI, F. (1989), Ivrea. Storia breve dalle origini ai giorni nostri, Aldo Cossavella editore, Ivrea PISELLI, F. (1987), ‘Il compare “politico”’, in L’Uomo, n. 11 (1), pp. 137–159 PISELLI, F. (ed.) (1995), Reti. L’Analisi di Network nelle Scienze Sociali, Donzelli Editore, Roma PITT-RIVERS, J. (1976a), Il popolo della Sierra, Rosemberg & Sellier, Turin PITT-RIVERS, J. (1976b), ‘Ritual kinship in the Mediterranean: Spain and the Balkans’, in J. G. Peristiany (ed.), Mediterranean Family Structures, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp. 317–334 PITT-RIVERS, J. (1995), ‘Le parrain de Montesquieu’, in F. Héritier-Augé and É. Copet-Rougier (eds), La Parenté pirituelle, Éditions des Archives Contemporaines, Paris, pp. 1–16 POLANYI, K. (1944), The Great Transformation, New York PRODI, P. (ed.) (1994), Disciplina dell’Anima, Disciplina del Corpo e Disciplina della Società tra Medioevo ed Età Moderna, Il Mulino, Bologna PRODI, P. and REINHARD, W. (eds) (1996), Il Concilio di Trento e il Moderno, Il Mulino, Bologna PRODI, P. (1997), ‘I figli illegittimi all’inizio dell’età moderna. Il trattato De nothis spuriisque filiis di Gabriele Paleotti’, in C. Grandi (ed.), Benedetto chi Ti Porta, Maledetto chi Ti Manda. L’infanzia Abbandonata nel Triveneto (secoli XV–XIX), Edizioni Fondazione Benetton, Treviso, pp. 49–57 PROSPERI, A. (1997), ‘I sacramenti in età tridentina’, in A. Alberigo and I. Rogger (eds), Il Concilio di Trento nella prospettiva del terzo millennio. Atti del convegno tenuto a Trento il 25–28 settembre 1995, Morcelliana, Brescia, pp. 251–266 PROSPERI, A. (2001), Il Concilio di Trento: una Introduzione Storica, Einaudi, Turin PROSPERI, A. (2005), Dare l’Anima, Einaudi, Turin RAGGIO, O. (1990), Faide e Parentele: lo Stato Genovese Visto dalla Fontanabuona, Einaudi, Turin

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RAJKAY, B. (1999), Verflechtung und Entflechtung. Sozialer Wandel in einer bikonfessionellen Stadt: Oettingen 1560–1806, Wißner-Verlag, Augsburg RAJKAY, B. and REINHARD, W. (1989), ‘Le choix des parrains dans une ville bi-confessionnelle. Oettingen de 1580 à 1806’, in F. Thelamon (ed.), Aux sources de la puissance: sociabilité et parenté, Publications de l’Université de Rouen, Rouen, pp. 161–167 RAVICZ, R. (1967), ‘Compadrinazgo’, in R. Wauchope (ed.), Handbook of Middle American Indians, VI, University of Texas Press, Austin, pp. 238–252 REDONDO, A. (1988) (ed.), Les parentés fictives en Espagne (XVIe– XVIIe siècles), Publications de la Sorbonne, Paris REINHARDT, N. (2000), Macht und Ohnmacht der Verflechtung, Biblioteca Academica Verlag Tübingen, Tübingen RESTA, P. (1987), ‘Tradizione e innovazione. Un esempio pugliese di comparatico simmetrico’, in L’Uomo, n. 11 (1), pp. 161–185 RIMOLDI, A. (1994), ‘I sinodi diocesani’, in Studia Borromaica, n. 9, pp. 65–84 ROBESTI, G. (1977), Notizie Storiche su Ivrea, Tipografia Valdostana, Aosta RUBELLIN, M. (1997), ‘Parrain, Marraine’, in A. Vauchez (ed.), Dictionnaire Encyclopédique du Moyen Age, Editions du Cerf, Paris, pp. 1162–1163 SABEAN, D. W. (1984), Power in the Blood, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge SABEAN, D. W. (1990), Property, Production, and Family in Neckarhausen, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge SABEAN, D. W. (1998), Kinship in Neckarhausen, 1700–1870, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge SAFLEY, T. M. (2000), Matheus Miller’s Memoir: a Merchant’s Life in the Seventeenth Century, Macmillan, London SCHLUMBOHM, J. (1995), ‘Quelques problèmes de microhistoire d’une société locale. Construction de liens sociaux dans la paroisse de Belm (17e–19e siècles)’, in Annales HSS, n. 4, pp. 775–802 SEGALEN, M. (1985), Quinze générations de Bas-Bretons, PUF, Paris SEIDEL MENCHI, S. and QUAGLIONI, D. (2000) (eds), Coniugi Nemici. La Separazione in Italia dal XII al XVIII sec., Il Mulino, Bologna SEIDEL MENCHI, S. and QUAGLIONI, D. (2001) (eds), Matrimoni in Dubbio. Promesse Disattese, Unioni Controverse, Nozze Clandestine, Secoli XIV–XVIII, Il Mulino, Bologna SEIDEL MENCHI, S. and QUAGLIONI, D. (2004) (eds), Trasgressioni: Seduzione, Concubinato, Adulterio, Bigamia: 14–18 sec., Il Mulino, Bologna

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SIGNORINI, I. (1979), ‘Padrino e compadre: analisi di un rapporto di scambio tra i Huave di San Mateo del Mar, Oxaca, Messico’, in L’Uomo, I (1), pp. 57–80 SIGNORINI, I. (1981), Padrini e Compadri: un’Analisi Antropologica della Parentela Spirituale, Loescher, Turin SIGNORINI, I. (1986), ‘Strategie matrimoniali, impedimenti e parentela spirituale: una prospettiva del Messico indigeno, oggi’, in Le Modèle Familial Européen. Normes, Déviances, Contrôle du Pouvoir, École Française de Rome, pp. 79–86 SIGNORINI, I. (1987) (ed.), ‘Forme di comparatico italiano’, in L’Uomo, n. 11 (1) SPIERLING, K. E. (2005), Infant Baptism in Reformation Geneva, Ashgate, Aldershot STIRRAT, R. L. (1975), ‘Compadrazgo in Catholic Sri Lanka’, in Man, 10 (4), pp. 589–606 STONE, L. (1971), ‘Prosopography,‘ in Daedalus, 100, pp. 46–79 STONE, L. (1981), The Past and the Present, Routledge & Kegan Paul, Boston, London and Henley SUBACCHI, P. (1996), La Ruota della Fortuna, Franco Angeli, Milano TAFEL, P. (1974), ‘Strutture urbane e vita quotidiana in Ivrea nel secolo XV’, in Nuova Rivista Storica, 58 TEUSCHER, S. (1998), Bekannte–Klienten–Verwandte: Soziabilität und Politik in der Stadt Bern um 1500, Boehlau, Köln TODD, M. (2002), The Culture of Protestantism in Early Modern Scotland, Yale University Press, New Haven TORQUEBIAU (1937), ‘Baptême en Occident’, in R. Naz (ed.), Dictionnaire de Droit Canonique, Letourney & Ané, Paris TURCHINI, A. (1996), ‘I “questionari” di visita pastorale di Carlo Borromeo per il governo della diocesi milanese’, in Studia Borromaica, n. 10, pp. 71–89 TYLOR, E. B. (1861), Anahuac, London VAN DER BERGHE, G. and VAN DER BERGHE, P. L. (1966), ‘Compadrazgo and class in Southeastern Mexico’, in American Anthropologist, 68 (5), pp. 1236–1244 VAN GENNEP, A. (1909, Italian ed. 2002), I Riti di Passaggio, Bollati Boringhieri, Turin VAN GENNEP, A. (1943), Manuel de Folklore Français Contemporain, Vol.1 (‘Du berceau à la tombe‘), Éditions Auguste Picard, Paris VAN MOLLE, W. W. (1964), ‘Les fonctions du parrainage des enfants en Occident’, in Paroisse et Liturgie, n. 2, pp. 121–146 VELLIOTI, M. (1987), ‘Le parrainage, l’adoption et la fraternisation dans un village arvainate du Péloponèse’, in Études et Documents Balkaniques et Méditerranéens, 13, pp. 67–96

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Index abandoned children baptism sub condicione, 103, 147 discrimination of, 137, 146, 148–54 godparents given to, 15, 146–54 names given to, 147, 151–2 registration in parish registers of, 28, 151–2 see also illegitimate children; godparents, as guardians of orphans Adam, Paul, 24–5 Aijmino, Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Bartolomea, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Beatrice, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Gaspare, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Margherita, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Marta, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Paola, in. of Ivrea, 143 Aijmino, Stefano, in. of Ivrea, 143 Alberti, Andrea, in. of Ivrea, 167 Alberti, Gasparda, in. of Ivrea, 174, 177, 179 Alberti, Gerolamo, in. of Ivrea, 166 Alberti, Tommaso, in. of Ivrea, 177, 179 Albrecht Ernst, prince of Oettingen, 229–30 Alfani, Guido, 26, 28, 77, 121, 126, 140, 147, 151, 156–8, 164, 167, 171, 183, 189, 213, 229, 244 Alfonso of Aragon, duke of Calabria, 60 Amelang, James S., 57 anabaptists, 70, 227 Anderson, Gallatin, 224–5, 240–1 Anderson, Robert T., 220 Angelo, Vladimir, 36 Angenendt, Arnold, 242 Antonina, wife of Belisarius, 18 Archinto, Filippo, bishop of Saluzzo, 74, 82–5 Aretino, Pietro, writer, 58–60 Ariès, Philippe, 198

Augustine of Hippo, saint, theologian and philosopher, 15 Bailey, Derrick S., 69, 234 Baillevache, in. of Rouen, 139 Bandello, Matteo, writer, 58–9, 176 baptism, adult rituals and practices, 14–6 sponsores, 14–6, 67–8, 234 see also catechumenate baptism, infant abuses (Trent), 72–8 abuses and condemned practices after Trent, 94–5; 102–4 as entrance into a community, 3–4 as rite, 2–4, 15, 235–8 celebration in domo, 72, 77, 102, 174 delay in celebration, 38, 102, 134, 139 festivities of, 70, 74, 78, 87, 104, 119, 227 of kings and princes, 37, 72, 166, 229–30, 242 origin of, 14–5 Tridentine reform of, 73–89 see also emergency baptism; death, without baptism; abandoned children, baptism sub condicione baptism, non-Catholic 67–70 see also Anabaptists; spiritual kinship, Protestant; godparenthood, in Protestant Europe baptismal registers as evidence of religious conformity, 75 as instruments for controlling the priests, 75, 106–12 as records of godparents, 10, 27–8, 53, 75, 96, 104, 115 imposition of, after Trent, 75, 102–4; 109–12 origin of, 27–8, 75 Barato, Andrea, in. of Piverone, 190

264

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Barato, Ludovica, in. of Piverone, 190 Barba, Giovanni Giacomo, bishop of Teramo, 84 Barberi, Giacomo, in. of Ivrea, 164 Barberis, Francesco, in. of Ivrea, 186 Bardini, Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 186 Baruffo de Piis, Lelio, bishop of Sarsina, 82, 85 Beauvalet-Boutouyrie, Scarlet, 188 Becutis, Michele, in. of Ivrea, 185 Beleth, Jean, theologian, 80 Belisarius, general of Byzantium, 18 Bell, Betty, 5, 223–4, 233, 239, 241 Bellonci, Maria, 74 Beloch, Karl Julius, 29, 157 Benedetto, C., 109 Bennett, Michael, 242 Benvenuti, Giovanni, 157–8 Bichi, Giovanni, in. of Siena, 74 Bideau, Alain, 244 Bigi, Patrizia, 8, 216, 243 Billia, Tommaso, in. of Ivrea, 186 birth ritual see baptism, infant; midwives birth see baptism; midwives; godmothers, wet nurses Bizzocchi, Roberto, 56 Bloch, Maurice, 221, 239 Boccaccio, Giovanni, writer, 57, 59 Boesch, Hans, 227 Bogoati, Giacomo, in. of Azeglio, 168 Boissevain, Jeremy, 220 Bonamico, Rocho, in. of Ivrea, 190 Bongioanni, Bernardo, bishop of Camerino, 82, 84–5 Boniface VIII, pope, 14, 23 Boniface, bishop, 15 Borgia, Rodrigo, cardinal, later pope Alexander VI, 74 Borio, Stefano, in. of Ivrea, 164 Borrato, Francesco, in. of Ivrea, 190 borromaic reforms 100–9, 119–20, 131, 134, 168, 210 Borromeo, Carlo, saint, cardinal archbishop of Milan, 91, 100–2, 104–7, 109, 115, 119–20, 131, 134, 168, 210 see also borromaic reforms

Borromeo, Federico, archbishop of Milan, 102 Bossy, John, 9, 22–4, 60, 100, 102, 119–20, 211, 213, 243 Bouteiller, Marcelle, 240 Bracci Cambini, Giovanni, in. of Pisa, 56 Bracci Cambini, Lussorio, in. of Pisa, 56 Brando, Marlon, actor, 220 Braudel, Ferdinand, 194 Brissac, marshal of France, 158 Brosio, Andrea, in. of Ivrea, 164 Brunetta, in. of Ivrea, 177 Bruzi, Guglielmo, in. of Azeglio, 168 Burguière, André, 240 Burke, Peter, 109 Burolio, Giacomo, in. of Ivrea, 184 Burolio, Giuseppe, in. of Ivrea, 184 Caballus, Giovanni Battista, in. of Ivrea, 189 Cagnino, Giovanni Battista, in. of Ivrea, 189 Calvin, John, reformer, 68–70, 115, 227 see also spiritual kinship, Protestant, according to Calvin Campeggio, Gianbattista, bishop of Maiorca, 84 Capra, Costantina, in. of Ivrea, 184 Capra, Ludovico, in. of Ivrea, 184 Capra, Maria, in. of Ivrea, 184 Carandini, Francesco, 157 Cassan, Michel, 37 Castagnola, Gregorio, bishop of Melo, 39, 84 Castelletto, Giacomo, in. of Castiglione, 189 Catarino, Ambrogio, bishop of Minori, 84 catechism as answer to the failure of the reform of godparenthood, 131, 211–2 attendance problems, 211 see also godparents, as tutors of Christian education catechumenate, 14 Cattaneo, Enrico, 15, 101 Cattini, Marco, 120, 130 Cavagna, Catelina, in. of Voghera, 96

Index

Cellini, Benvenuto, sculptor, 36, 55, 60 Cellini, Costanza, daughter of Benvenuto Cellini, 36 Ceridone, Francesco di, 206–7 Ceridone, Gasparda di, 206–7 Charlemagne, king of Franks, later Emperor of the Sacred Roman Empire, 242 Charles Mountbatten-Windsor, prince of Wales, 37 Charles V, Emperor of the Sacred Roman Empire, 71–2, 157 Charles VIII, king of France, 157 Chaunu, Pierre, 36, 60 Cherico, Michele, priest of St. Ulderico in Ivrea, 92 Chiampo, Pietro, in. of Ivrea, 189 Chock, Phyllis P., 239 Christinat, Jean L., 5, 239 Cicada, Giovanni Battista, bishop of Albenga, 81, 84 Cicchetti, Angelo, 54 Cimetier, F., 16 Cita, Giovanni, in. of Ivrea, 164 clergy relationship with their community, 25–6, 93–4, 108, 111 as enactors of the Tridentine decrees, 28, 92–4, 97–106, 109–11, 210 as godparents see godparents, clergy acting as Clerici, Cristoforo, priest of St. Ulderico in Ivrea, 92 Colles, family of Follina, 216 Colli, Andrea, 217 comari see godmothers comparatico de coppula see godparenthood, unofficial practices comparatico of St. John see godparenthood, unofficial practices comparatico see godparenthood; godparents compari see godparents confession, 14, 75, 102, 107–8

265

Borromeo's Instructions to Confessors, 107–8 confirmation abuses, 71–7 godparents of, 1, 14, 72–7, 87–8, 103, 214, 241 spiritual kinship from, 87–8, 212 tridentine reform of, 71–7, 87–8 Conner, Philip, 70 Constantine I, Pope, 18 Constantine Paleologus, later Constantine XI Emperor of Byzantium, 60 Constantine V, Emperor of Byzantium, 19 Copet-Rougier, Elisabeth, 244 Coppola, Francis Ford, film maker, 220 Corblet, Jules, abbot, 6–7, 23–5, 34–5, 234, 237 Coriator, Andrieta, in. of Ivrea, 185 Coriator, Bernardo, in. of Ivrea, 185 Coriator, Margherita, in. of Ivrea, 185 Corrain, Cleto, 73, 226, 236 Corsini, Carlo Alberto, 28 Coster, Will, 1, 9, 69, 243 council of Trent (1545–1563) 3, 6, 9–14, 17, 20–2, 25–9, 34, 36–7, 39, 42–3, 50–3, 59, 61–2, 70–92, 95, 97–102, 105–13, 115, 117–9, 124, 126–7, 129–31, 137, 144, 146, 148, 151, 154, 156, 159, 161, 164, 169, 175, 179, 193, 195–7, 199, 204, 206, 208–10, 212–5, 221, 223–6, 231, 234, 237–8, 243 as a process of social engineering, 89–90 bolognese period (1547), 50, 71–86 history, 70–3, 86–7 see also baptism, infant, Tridentine reform of; marriage, Tridentine reform of; Tametsi; confirmation, Tridentine reform of; spiritual kinship, Tridentine reform of councils Basel (1432), 24 Canerich (1300), 24 Châlons-sur-Marne, 20 Cologne (1281), 23 Compiègne (1229), 23

266

index

Exeter (1287), 23 Lateran (1215), 101–2 Mainz (813), 15, 20 Metz (893), 23 Prague (1355), 21 Rome (721), 18 Salisbury (1217), 23 Trent (1545–1563) see council of Trent Trèves (1227), 23 Vatican Second (1962–65), 3, 82, 212 Worcester (1240), 23 councils, provincial Benevento (1470), 226 Florence (1517), 127 Milan First (1564), 101–2, 105, 134 Milan Second (1569), 103 Milan Third (1573), 103, 147 Milan Fouth (1576), 104 Milan Fifth (1579), 104, 168 Milan Sixth (1582), 104 Milan Seventh (1582), 104 Cracco, Giorgio, 157 Cramer, Peter, 8, 242 Da Molin, Giovanna, 146 Dal Verme, family, 28 Datini, Francesco, merchant from Prato, 55, 206 De Boer, Wietse , 107 De Vitt, Flavia, 45 death repetition of godparents after death of children, 181 without baptism, 15 see also emergency baptism Del Carretto, family, 28 Delille, Gérard, 36, 243 Delmaire, Bernard, 25, 37 Delwaulle, Annick, 218–9 Di Filippo Bareggi, Claudia, 211 Dimitrievic-Rufu, D., 239 discipline doctrine, baptismal see baptism, adult; baptism, infant; baptism, nonCatholic; anabaptists Dolan, Claire, 121, 167 D'Onofrio, Salvatore, 17, 220

Du Boulay, Juliet, 239 Duby, Georges, 20 Ducreux, Marie E., 244 Dupaquier, Jacques, 244 Ecclesia, Anastasia, in. of Ivrea, 177 Ecclesia, Giovanni Maria, in. of Ivrea, 177–9 Ecclesia, Maria, in. of Ivrea, 177 Ecclesia, Vittorio, in. of Ivrea, 177 education of children as parental responsibility, 15–6, 107 see also godparents, as tutors of Christian education; catechism emergency baptism, 2, 19, 96, 139, 147 at the Council of Trent, 72 influence on choice of godparents, 174 see also midwives, baptism celebrated by Episcopo, Gerolamo, in. of Ivrea, 178 Episcopo, Giacomina, in. of Ivrea, 178 Episcopo, Giovanni Battista, in. of Ivrea, 178 Episcopo, Maria, in. of Ivrea, 178 Erasmus of Rotterdam, theologian and philosopher, 67 Ericsson, Tom, 39, 148, 217, 219, 243 Estouteville, cardinal of, 74 Etienne de Tournay, theologian, 21 Eve, Michael, 116 Facio, Giacomo, in. of Ivrea, 189 Fagerlund, Solveig, 39, 177, 243 Falcetta, Egidio, bishop of Caorle, 76–7, 83–5 Falierou, Anastasia, 232 family records as an historical source, 27, 54–5 as record of godparents, 54, 134–5 Feletto, Martino, in. of Ivrea, 181 Ferdinand I of Aragon, king of Naples, 60 Ferrante, Lucia, 93 Ferreri, Augusto, in. of Ivrea, 172 Ferreri, Vittoria, in. of Ivrea, 172–3 Ferrero, Cesare Camillo, bishop of Ivrea, 92, 109–12,

Index

Ferrero, family, 109 Ferrero, Ferdinando, bishop of Ivrea, 92, 109–10, 112 Ferretto, Giovanni Pietro, bishop of Mileto, 76, 78 Fertig, Georg, 187 Filipovic, Milenko S., 239 Fine, Agnès, 20–1, 63, 225, 240 Firenzuola, Giovanni da, jeweller, 60 Fisher, John D.C., 68 Fontanel, Pierre, in. of Brive, 56 Foster, George M., 6, 24, 38, 222, 224, 238 foundlings see abandoned children Francis I, king of France, 157 Friedberg, Aemilius, 77 Fueter, Eduard, 157 Gabuto, Giovanni Giacomo, in. of Ivrea, 176 Gagliani, Francesco, bishop of Pistoia, 83, 85 García González, Francisco, 219, 243 Gasseno, Bartolomeo, in. of Ivrea, 185 Gasseno, Francesco, in. of Ivrea, 181, 185 Gauvard, Claude, 139, 180 Gélis, Jacques, 236 geography of customs see geography of practices geography of practices methodology, 45–6 of godparenthood, 43–52, 209, 216, 232 Gerhard, Johannes, theologian, 69 Gerolamo, Alberto, in. of Ivrea, 186 Giberti, Gianmatteo, bishop of Verona, 120 Giovanni Fiorentino, writer, 60–1 Giuliano, prefect of the praetorium, 17 Giulio, in. of Ivrea, 177 Giuseppe de Santa Maria, in. of Mirandola, 153 godfathers see godparents godmothers careers as, 171–9 importance given to, 93, 144, 169–71, 206 midwives as, 96–7, 174

267

wet nurses as, 152–3 see also godparens godparenthood compadrazgo, 1, 4–7, 118, 120, 221–6, 233, 236–44 historiography, 4–8, 233–44 in Medieval and Early Modern literature, 56–61 in Protestant Europe, 11, 39, 62–3, 67–70, 115, 227–30, 243 origins of, 3, 14–6, 22–5 Orthodox, 11–2, 63–5, 230–2, 238–9 pre-Tridentine legislation on, 22–6 verticalization of, 10–11, 121–31, 144, 151, 161, 196–7, 209, 214–7, 220–3, 229 see also godparenthood, abuses; godparenthood, economic role; godparenthood, models; godparenthood, unofficial practices godparenthood, abuses Mafia godparenthood, 1, 219–21 political godparenthood, 220–1, 242–3 violation of holy comparatico see spiritual incest, violation of see also baptism, infant, abuses godparenthood, economic role, 61–5, 186–91 as a support to economic interaction, 63–5, 187–9 gifts giving, 56, 64–5, 70, 74–8, 87, 102–3, 115, 135, 180–4, 206, 227 legacies, 57, 187 lending, 180, 189–90 mediation, 62–3, 187–8 trust building, 62–3, 180 godparenthood, models, 10, 26, 30–55, 69, 77–8, 89–93, 97–9, 117–8, 124–5, 135, 139, 144, 156, 159, 163, 169–71, 183, 187, 193–7, 204, 206, 209–16, 220, 222, 224–9, 232, 234, 238, 241, 243 asymmetric multigodfather (type 2), 42–3, 46–9

268

index

asymmetric single godfather (type 6), 42–3, 47–50, 216 couple, 40–3, 47–50, 91–3, 98–9, 117–8, 144, 159, 163, 169–71, 176, 183, 193, 196–7, 209, 212–6, 225 limited asymmetric multigodfather (type 4), 42–3, 47–9 limited multigodfather (type 3), 42–3, 46–49 pure multigodfather (type 1), 42–3, 46–50, 118, 156, 159, 183, 197, 206 pure single godfather (type 5) see godparenthood models, couple ternary, 23–4, 36–43, 69, 78, 139, 212, 234 typology, 34, 41–8 godparenthood, practices beyond Italy after Reformation and Council of Trent among gypsies, 231 in Denmark, 227 in England, 37 in France, 173, 187, 210–1, 218–9, 225, 235–6, 240 in Germany, 38–9, 62–3, 70, 135, 227–31 in Greece, 5, 17, 62–5, 231–2, 238–9 in Iceland, 174, 227 in Latin America see godparenthood, compadrazgo in Norway, 227 in Spain, 5–6, 210–1, 219, 238 in Sweden, 39, 148, 217, 219 in Switzerland, 38, 154 in the Balkans, 5, 135, 230–2, 238–9 see also godparenthood, Orthodox; godparenthood, in Protestant Europe godparenthood, practices beyond Italy before the Reformation around Europe, 39–40 in Denmark, 37 in England, 36–7, 39–40, 55 in Flanders, 39

in France, 24–5, 36–7, 39–40, 43, 55–7, 78 in Germany, 24, 38–40, 43, 55 in Greece, 39 in Ireland, 39 in Scotland, 39 in Spain, 6, 24, 38, 40, 43 in Sweden, 39–40 in Switzerland, 24, 38, 43 in the Netherlands (Holland), 37,40 see also godparenthood, Orthodox; godparenthood, in Protestant Europe godparenthood, unofficial practices after Trent, in Italy, 102, 224–6, 232, 236, 240–1 after Trent, in Latin America, 224–6, 236 before Trent, 19, 22, 226, 236 godparents age of, 22; 104; 167–9; 172–3; 176–7; 219; 231–2; 225 as guardians of orphans, 2, 60–1, 68, 147, 152, 180 as tutors of Christian education, 2, 15–6, 68–9, 77–8, 80, 89, 102–8, 115, 126, 131, 147–8, 180; 234–5 careers as, 155–79 children named after, 8, 60, 184, 240, 244 clergy acting as, 24–6, 77, 121–30, 153, 159–64, 207 grandparents acting as, 218–9 kings and princes acting as, 29, 60, 74, 76, 153, 166, 229–30, 242 legates acting as, 74–5, 243 number of, 22–25, 27–52, 91–100 of abandoned children see abandoned children, godparents given to of illegitimate children see illegitimate children, godparents given to patrons acting as, 10, 60, 127, 135, 161, 176, 181–5, 195–8, 207, 216, 220–3, 229 poor acting as, 55–6

Index

269

social status, 120–31, 142–5, 150–1, 164–7 see also godparenthood; godparenthood, abuses; godparenthood, economic role; godparenthood, unofficial practices Gómez Carrasco, Cosme J., 219, 243 Gondy, Henry de, 210 Gotino, Bernardo, in. of Ivrea, 189 Gourdon, Vincent, 8, 134, 147, 183, 188–9, 214–5, 218, 244 Goy, Joseph, 45–6 grandparents see godparents, grandparents acting as Granovetter, Mark S., 4, 116 Graziano, jurist, 20–1 Gregory II, Pope, 18 Gribaudi, Maurizio, 116 Grubb, James S., 35 Guagnolino, Albertino, in. of Mirandola, 153 Gudeman, Stephen, 237 Guerreau-Jalabert, Anita, 3, 8, 15, 21, 77, 80, 237 Guerzoni, Guido, 167 Guggenheim, S., 221, 239 Guglo, Guglielmo, in. of Ivrea, 184 Guglo, Ludovico, in. of Ivrea, 184 Guidetti, Matteo, in. of Ivrea, 189 Guidi, Guido, physician of the king of France, 36 Guische, Claude de la, bishop of Mirepoix, 39, 84 Gunnlaugsson, Gísli A., 174, 243 Guttormsson, Loftur, 174, 227, 243

Hierrio, Angela de, in. of Ivrea, 178 Hierrio, Cesare de, in. of Ivrea, 177 Hierrio, Francesca de, in. of Ivrea, 178 Hierrio, Giorgio de, in. of Ivrea, 177 Hillebrandt, Hans J., 69 Horstman, Connie, 221–3, 244 Hubler, Lucienne, 38, 154 Hugh of St. Victor, mystic and philosopher, 24 Hunecke, Volker, 146 Hyppolitus of Rome, saint, 234

Haas, Louis, 7–8, 36, 127, 202–3, 243 Hadrian I, pope, 242 Hainard, Jacques, 236 Hammel, Eugene A., 5, 53, 62, 119, 135, 180–1, 203, 230–1, 238–9 Harry Mountbatten-Windsor, prince, 37 Hart, Donn V., 240 Hatzaki, I., 239 Henrioto, Enrico de, in. of Ivrea, 177 Héritier-Augé, Françoise, 244

Lamaison, Pierre, 46 Lanzinger, Margareth, 244 Laura, in. of Ivrea, 177 Le Borgne, family of Arras, 37 Le Filleul, Antoine, bishop of Aix, 79 Le Goff, Jacques, 15, 134 Le Roy Ladurie, Emmanuel, 45 Lecavela, Sebastiano, bishop of Nasso, 79, 80, 84 Leclercq, Henri, 14

illegitimate children discrimination of, 134, 146, 153–4, 205 godparents given to, 146 place in society, 146 registration of, 28 see also abandoned children Isabeta, in. of Voghera, 96 Iung, N., 14, 21 Iurde, Giacomo, in. of Carema, 189 Jedin, Hubert, 71–2, 76, 81, 87 Jesus, VII, 68 Joan of Arc, saint, 37 Jussen, Bernhard, 8, 37, 242–3 Justinian II, Emperor of Byzantium, 18 Justinian, Emperor of Byzantium, 17–8 Kaehr, Roland, 236 Kearney, Richard J., 15, 24, 234 Klapisch-Zuber, Christiane, 7, 8, 24, 27, 36, 55–7, 60, 134–5, 173, 240, 243 Kurtz, Donald V., 221–3, 244

270

index

legates at baptism see godparents, legates acting as Legendre, Pierre, 17 Leo I, Pope, 76–7, 79, 80, 88 Leo III, Emperor of Byzantium, 19 Lévi-Strauss, Claude, 240 libri di famiglia see family records Liutprand, king of Longobards, 19 Lombardi, Daniela, 87 Lucia, in. of Voghera, 96 Lugão Rios, Ana M., 244 Luther, Martin, reformer, 13, 38, 50, 67–71, 81, 227–9 see also spiritual kinship, Protestant, according to Luther Lympo, Baldassarre, bishop of Porto, 81–2 Lynch, Joseph H., 5, 7–8, 14, 18–20, 23, 69–70, 77, 228, 233–4, 236, 242 Machiavelli, Nicolò, writer and politician, 58 Mafia 219–21 see also godparenthood, abuses, Mafia godparenthood Majo, Angelo, 101 Malliard, family of Brive, 37 Malliard, Rigal, in. of Brive, 56 Manfredi, Giuseppe, 29 Marland, Hilary, 97 marriage as a rite 2, 173 as an instrument of social alliance 25–6, 63–4, 116, 120, 147, 179, 195–6, 203, 228–9 clandestine 81, 87, 130 divorce 20 godmotherhood and marriage market 171–4, 177 impediments to 3–4, 14–22, 67–9, 87–8, 118, 196, 212, 231 Tridentine reform of, 81–3, 86–90, 93, 130 see also Tametsi see also witnesses to marriage Marshall, Sherrin, 37 Massarello, Angelo, protonotarius, 72 Mauss, Marcel, 183

Mazia, Giovanni Domenico, in. of Ivrea, 173 Mazia, Maria, in. of Ivrea, 173 Mazia, Placenzia, in. of Ivrea, 173 Mazzei, Lapo, friend of Francesco Datini, 55, 206 Medici, Lorenzo de', prince of Florence, 60 Medick, Hans, 198 Merzario, Raul, 195 Michel, A., 100, 210 Michelletto, Bartolomeo, in. of Ivrea, 190 midwives, 96–7, 139 baptism celebrated by, 96 see also godmothers, midwives as Migne, Jacques P., 21, 24, 210 Miliarde da Vuleza, Bernardo, in. of Voghera, 96 Millano, Bernardo, in. of Ivrea, 168 Miller, Maria G., 220, 241 Miller, Matheus, merchant from Augsburg, 39, 228 Miller, Roy A., 220, 241 Mintz, Sidney W., 5–9, 28, 60, 193–4, 226–7, 233, 236–7, 241 Mondano, Cesare, in. of Ivrea, 172–3 Montaigne, Michel de, writer, 56 Monte, Giovanni Maria de, cardinal, 76 Montesquieu, Charles Secondat, baron of, writer, 56 Morales, Cristoforo, governor of Ivrea, 158, 203 Mordenti, Raul, 54 Muir, Edward, 68 Munno, Cristina, 8, 116, 215–7, 244 Musso, Cornelio, bishop of Bitonto, 83, 85 name giving, 1, 3, 8, 60, 147, 184, 240, 244 see also grandparents, children named after; godparents, children named after Nutini, Hugo G., 5, 223–4, 233, 239, 241 Occlepo, Cesare, in. of Ivrea, 178 Occlepo, Giulia, in. of Ivrea, 178

Index

Occlepo, Maddalena, in. of Ivrea, 178 Oglio, Giovanni Bernardo, in. of Ivrea, 190 Olaus Magnus, bishop of Uppsala, 39, 80, 83–4 Orangiano, Reynerio, in. of Ivrea, 186 Orengiano, Alessandro, in. of Ivrea, 167 Origo, Iris, 56, 206 Ormaneto, Nicolò, vicar of Carlo Borromeo, 101, 105 Osborn, Ann, 239 Osiander, Andreas, reformer, 68 Palombarini, Augusta, 146 Palumbo, Berardino, 58, 97, 171, 180, 218, 220, 225, 241 parish books see baptismal registers pastoral visitations 49, 75, 92, 106–12, 115 in the diocese of Ivrea 109–12 in the diocese of Milan 106–8 pastoral visits see pastoral visitations Pate, Richard, bishop of Worcester, 39, 84 Patlagean, Evelyne, 242 Paul III, Pope, 71 Paul of Tarsus, saint and apostle, 68 Paul, Benjamin D., 6–7, 54, 194, 236–7 Pegeot, Pierre, 37, 243 Perinetti, Federico, 157 Perrin, in. of Rouen, 139 Perusco, Camillo, bishop of Alatri, 82, 84 Pico, family, 28, 153 Picona, Caterina, in. of Ivrea, 176 Piconi, Francesco, in. of Ivrea, 173 Piselli, Fortunata, 116, 221 Pitt-Rivers, Julian, 5, 17, 56, 58, 118, 180, 238–9 Pius II, Pope, 74 Pius IV, Pope, 101 Pius V, Pope, 101 Polanyi, Karl, 61, 186, 189 Poleti, Caterina, in. of Ivrea, 174 popular religion see godparenthood, unofficial practices Porcelli, Francesco, in. of Ivrea, 187, 189 priests see clergy

271

Procopius of Caesarea, byzantine historian, 18 Prodi, Paolo, 89, 146 Prosperi, Adriano, 9, 70, 72, 89, 134, 243 Puzo, Mario, writer, 220 Quadra, Alvaro de la, bishop of Venosa, 76, 83 Quaglioni, Diego, 87, 89 Raggio, Osvaldo, 120 Rajkay, Barbara, 62, 230, 243 Rapis, Giovanni Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 167, 207 Ratti, Achille, 102 Reinhard, Wolfgang, 62, 230, 243 Reinhardt, Nicole, 9, 75, 243 Resta, Patrizia, 220 Reverdino, Teodoro, in. of Ivrea, 168 Richeta, in. of Voghera, 96 Rimoldi, Antonio, 100–1, 103–4 Robesti, Giustiniano, 157 Robesto, Antonio, priest of St. Ulderico of Ivrea, 92 Romeo, Francesco, general of the Dominicans, 82, 84 Ronchet, Maria, in. of Pont Saint Martin, 190 Ronchet, Pietro, in. of Pont Saint Martin, 190 Ronchi, Anna, 8, 216, 243 Rossi, Giovanni Cristoforo, in. of Vercelli, 190 Rubellin, Michel, 2, 57, 187 Ruggiu, François J., 188 Ruiz, Alonso, in. of Granada, 164 Sabean, David W., 8, 62–3, 135, 180–1, 187–8, 194–5, 198, 228–9, 244 Sacchetti, Franco, writer, 59 Safley, Thomas M., 39, 228 Sala, Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 207 Salti, Bernardo, in. of Chiaverano, 9 Salti, Maria, in. of Chiaverano, 9 Salti, Pietro, in. of Chiaverano, 9 Sampietro, Luigi, delegated visitor, 106 Sandiliano, Giovanni, in. of Ivrea, 164

272

index

Saraceno, Giovanni Michele, bishop of Matera, 72, 79 Savoia, family, 29, 157–8 Scaglia, Guglielmo, in. of Ivrea, 164 Scala, Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 178 Scala, Francesca, in. of Ivrea, 178 Scala, Giovanni Giacomo, in. of Ivrea, 178 Scala, Margarita, in. of Ivrea, 173 Scala, Pietro, in. of Ivrea, 178 Scherman, Matthieu, 35 Schlumbohm, Jürgen, 243 Schönborn, Johan Philipp von, archbishop-elector of Mainz, 230 Segalen, Martine, 250n, 240 Seidel Menchi, Silvana, 87, 89 Senali, Roberto, bishop of Avranches, 83 Signorini, Italo, 2, 5, 14, 23, 224, 239–41 Skaftadóttir, Ingbjörg, in. of Útlskálar, 174 Sphrantzes, Georgios, byzantine historian, 60 Sphrantzes, Giovanni, son of Georgios Sphrantzes, 60 Sphrantzes, Tamara, daughter of Georgios Sphrantzes, 60 Spierling, Karen E., 9, 70, 115, 227, 243 Spiriti, Cristoforo de', bishop of Cesena, 86 spiritual incest Orthodox view, 231–2 perception of (20th century), 17, 218, 231–2 pre-Tridentine, 16–22, 25, 56–9, 67 Protestant view see spiritual kinship, Protestant Tridentine reform of, 75, 81, 86–8, 104 violation of, 18, 22, 56–9, 67, 81, 87–8 see also marriage, impediments to spiritual kinship development before Trent, 15–22, 25–6 disappearance of, 212–9 notion of, 3–4, 15–6 Orthodox, 17, 231–2

Tridentine reform of, 73–4, 81–9 see also baptism, adult; baptism, infant; godparents; godparenthood; spiritual incest; confirmation, spiritual kinship from spiritual kinship, Protestant according to Calvin, 68–70, 227 according to Luther, 13, 38–39, 67–9, 227 according to the Church of England, 69, 227 according to Zwingli, 68 see also Anabaptists Spitame, Jacques, bishop of Nevers, 83 sponsores see baptism, adult, sponsores Stirrat, Richard L., 240 Stone, Lawrence, 156 Stoppa, Giulio, priest of SS. Giorgio, Nazaro and Celso in Bellano, 97, 106 Strata, Eusebio, in. of Ivrea, 189 Strata, Laura, in. of Ivrea, 189 Strata, Margherita, in. of Ivrea, 189 Stringheri, Marchione, in. of Ivrea, 190 Strita, Angela, in. of Ivrea, 173 Strita, Marco Antonio, in. of Ivrea, 173 Strita, Margherita, in. of Ivrea, 173 Strozzi, Alfonso, son of Filippo Strozzi, 60 Strozzi, family of Florence, 55 Strozzi, Filippo, 60 Subacchi, Paola, 130 Sutor, Cristoforo, in. of Ivrea, 181, 185 synods Amalfi (1594), 226 Carpi (1571), 226 Florence (1517), 22 Milan, diocesan first (1564), 101 Milan, diocesan second (1568), 103 Milan, diocesan third (1571), 103, 174 Milan, diocesan fourth (1574), 104 Paris (1608), 210 synodal statutes on godparenthood, 22, 24–5, 36, 204, 210–1, 235 Tournay (1481), 24

Index

Trullan (Costantinople 692), 18, 20 Tafel, Patrizia, 157–8 tametsi, 87–8 Teodosius, godchild of Belisarius, 18 Teuscher, Simon, 38, 243 Theodore, bishop of Pavia, 19 Thomas Aquinas, saint, theologian and philosopher, 237 Todd, Margo, 70 Torquebiau, 2, 14, 147 Turchini, Angelo, 106 Turino, Michele, in. of Ivrea, 181 Tuscany, dukes of, 100 Tylor, Edward B., 4 unmarried parents see illegitimate children Van der Berghe, Gwendoline, 239 Van der Berghe, Pierre L., 239 Van der Vorst, Peter, bishop of Acqui, 39, 78, 82–3, 85 Van Gennep, Arnold, 2, 173, 218, 225, 235–6 Van Molle, W.W., 2, 235 Vauchop, Robert, bishop of Armagh, 39, 81–4 Vellioti, Maria, 5, 239 Vernier, Bertrand, 63–4, 180, 206, 232, 239 Viazzo, Pier Paolo, 7, 243 Viglianchino, Giovanni Battista, in. of Ivrea, 178

273

Viglianchino, Ortensia, in. of Ivrea, 178 Viglianchino, Ricolino, in. of Ivrea, 178 Vigotti, Gualberto, 102, 109 Vincent, Bernard, 9, 38, 163, 243 Visconti, Gaspare, arcibishop of Milano, 104 wars of Italy, 29, 157–8, 202–4 wet nurses see godmothers, wet nurses as Wiesner, Merry, 97 William Mountbatten-Windsor, prince, 37 witnesses to baptism, 2, 69, 82, 229 to marriage, 156 to wills and notary deeds, 57, 186, 188–9 Wolf, Eric R., 5–9, 28, 60, 193–4, 226–7, 233, 236–7, 241 Württemberg, duke of, 230 Yver, Jean, 45–6 Zacharias, Pope, 19–20 Zambruno, Elisabetta, 8, 216, 243 Zampini, Pierluigi, 73, 226, 236 Zarri, Gabriella, 87, 89, 130 Zonabend, François, 218, 240 Zùniga, Jean P., 223, 244 Zwingli, Ulrich, reformer, 68 see also spiritual kinship, Protestant, according to Zwingli