Proving Woman (19 page)

These rather abstract forces informing Elisabeth’s vow would receive additional impetus from Gregory IX, who would see fit
to exercise over Elisabeth the church’s traditional role as protector of widows—a protection that extended to her property
rights. Whether or not Gregory’s intervention did occur at Conrad’s behest, it clearly worked to the latter’s advantage, since
Gregory promptly transferred the power over widow and property alike to Conrad.
³⁷
This transference of power corresponded to the reception of the gray habit—which in many ways could be likened to the groom’s
conferral of nuptial clothes—from Conrad’s hands. Elisabeth would follow Conrad to Marburg, bringing their relationship even
more closely into alignment with a virolocal marriage.
³⁸

Even before Ludwig’s death, Conrad consistently assumed a controlling hand in Elisabeth’s piety that disrupted the conjugal
household. Elisabeth’s celebrated food asceticism wreaked havoc with her husband’s board by requiring that she and her handmaidens
refuse any food that might have been purchased with suspect funds. Although this discipline is justifiably construed by feminist
historians as an act of subversion of her own social position, it is nevertheless significant that the practice resulted from
Conrad’s explicit behest. (On her own initiative, Elisabeth consulted a doctor to make sure that such austerities would not
damage her health.)
³⁹
Although later hagiographies would represent Ludwig as interfering with his wife’s distribution of alms, in fact it was Conrad
who would run this quintessentially husbandlike interference by restricting Elisabeth’s almsgiving.
⁴⁰
Similarly, later accounts would portray Elisabeth’s ongoing efforts to smuggle lepers into the marital bed; the lepers were
invariably transformed into the image of the Christ child when the angry husband was on the brink of chastisement.
⁴¹
But these miracles were also clearly grounded in events occurring after Ludwig’s death. As Conrad reported to Gregory IX,
the discovery that Elisabeth had concealed a leprous virgin in the house resulted in a severe beating for his holy penitent
and instant expulsion for her ailing charge.
⁴²
The fact that the patient husband would eventually be recast with the attributes of the irascible confessor in this narrative
suggests the degree to which the two roles had become interchangeable in representations of Elisabeth’s life. Yet the confessor
would eventually supplant the husband in what was usually construed as the latter’s final prerogative, since it was Conrad
who was ultimately buried at Elisabeth’s side in her basilica.
⁴³

In addition to his appropriation of the husband’s authority, Conrad’s position would be further augmented by the evolution
of sacerdotal authority incumbent upon emphasis on the sacraments. Whether consecrating the host or hearing confession, the
priest was progressively perceived as standing
in loco Dei
. Conrad’s near apotheosis was hardly lost on Elisabeth, as the now famous testimony of her handmaiden Irmingard makes clear:

She also said that the blessed Elisabeth was especially afraid of Master Conrad, but in the place of God [
in loco Dei
], saying, “If I am so afraid of a mortal man, how much more is the omnipotent God to be feared, who is the lord and judge
of all.”
⁴⁴

As surrogate to both God and husband, Conrad held a virtually unassailable position of authority.

“A VOICE IN RAMA”: THE MARTYRED INQUISITOR

“Master Conrad of Marburg deserves to be exhumed

and burned as a heretic.”

(Council of Frankfurt, 2 February 1234)
⁴⁵

Elisabeth’s subjection to Conrad was probably initiated and certainly ratified by papal approval. Indeed, later hagiographers,
such as Dietrich of Apolda, will reiterate this authorization as often as feasible, doubtless influenced by Conrad’s frequent
repetitions in his letter to Gregory IX.
⁴⁶

The degree of Conrad’s authority over Elisabeth was consolidated by a similar subordination of the Thuringian church—a condition
again effected through Gregory IX’s approval and associated with his initiatives against heresy. Already in 1227, Conrad had
persuaded Ludwig to grant him control over church appointments in Thuringia, a gesture that Conrad then encouraged the landgrave
to ratify by an appeal to Gregory IX, who had ascended the papal throne in the same year. Conrad compounded this petition
with a request for power to act against heresy in Germany. Gregory was, as we have seen, particularly preoccupied with the
threat of heresy, and delighted to oblige on both counts: the letter that approved Conrad’s control over the Thuringian church
was immediately followed by another authorizing Conrad as special agent against heresy throughout Germany.
⁴⁷

Gregory’s authorization of Conrad as an inquisitor against heresy has traditionally been regarded as an important first step,
anticipating the development of the later papal inquisition.
⁴⁸
Some historians have challenged the extent to which Conrad actually enjoyed a papal commission, stressing his ultimate responsibility
to the diocesan bishop.
⁴⁹
But there can be little doubt that contemporaries viewed his papal sponsorship as particularly enabling. It was certainly
a fact that stuck in the minds of coeval sources, including hagiographers of Elisabeth. One contemporary chronicler says of
Conrad that “supported by papal authority and constancy of spirit, he became so bold that he feared no one.”
⁵⁰
Gregory did his best to abet Conrad’s efforts by encouraging him to enlist local bishops and secular authorities in antiheretical
initiatives. Individuals who attended Conrad’s preaching against heresy received indulgences, while those who actually assisted
in the eradication of heresy were rewarded with the coveted Crusade indulgence, which removed all purgatorial penance for
confessed sins.
⁵¹

Conrad’s reputation was probably further enhanced by his association with the recently deceased Elisabeth’s sanctity. Thus
the
Annals of
Worms
, which identifies Conrad as Elisabeth’s confessor, immediately adds that he was “reputed as if he were a prophet.”
⁵²
The refracted aura of sanctity, in conjunction with papal authorization, temporarily immunized Conrad from opposition, producing
a miasma of invincibility around the man and his methods alike.With the cooperation of the mendicant orders, Conrad traveled
around, garnering accusations. Multiple sources corroborate that the accused had no option but to confess and have their heads
shaved or maintain their innocence and be burned.
⁵³
Such grim proceedings have been characterized by H. C. Lea with some justice as presenting “the essence of the inquisitorial
process, reduced to its simplest terms.”
⁵⁴

Conrad eventually overreached himself when he accused the powerful noble Count Henry of Seyn of heresy.
⁵⁵
Owing to insufficient evidence, the charges were dismissed by a synod of bishops and nobles, including the king, who met at
Mainz in 1233. Conrad, who was unreconciled to this verdict, left the council in a rage, refusing offers of an escort.
⁵⁶
Three days after the council, Conrad was murdered by a group of nobles who were among the accused. Although Gregory IX was
allegedly shaken by the various indictments of Conrad’s procedures that reached Rome, the latter’s sudden death caused him
to rally to his delegate’s defense.
⁵⁷
In his letter to the bishops of Germany, Gregory enlists the heady rhetoric of martyrdom. He begins with a text from Jeremiah
depicting a mother’s lamentation for her dead children—a text that in the New Testament was applied to the slaughter of the
Holy Innocents.

A voice in Rama (Jer. 15.31; Matt. 2.18) recently rings out, with thunder that shakes the wall of Christian sanctification—just
as lightning repelled the gaze of the strong and like a thunderbolt struck the hearing of the weak—because, although precious
in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints (Ps. 115.15), nevertheless the catholic mother church is the more affected
by the removal of her children the more fully she rejoices in their battles and triumphs.
⁵⁸

He concludes by insisting that the perpetrators of this crime, and their defenders, be brought to justice.
⁵⁹
But despite Conrad’s death at the hands of accused heretics, coupled with Gregory’s professed esteem for the deceased, there
was no move to canonize Conrad. This omission is partially explained by the growing trepidation of the pope to advance anyone
who died persecuting heretics, a tendency that would be confirmed by the almost universal antipathy to the man and his activity
throughout Germany.

The wisdom of the pope’s reticence is, to some extent, illuminated by a letter he received subsequent to Conrad’s death, providing
a bird’s-eye view of the latter’s career and demise. Jointly composed by the archbishop of Mainz and the pope’s former penitentiary,
the Dominican Bernard (perhaps the same Bernard who was confessor to Lutgard of Aywie`res), the letter was preserved by the
monastic chronicler Albric. The authors made no secret of their profound sympathy with the desperate plight of the accused,
who were “either to confess spontaneously [
sponte confiteri
] and live; or to swear innocence and immediately be burned.” The devil, seemingly capitalizing on Conrad’s singular procedures,
accordingly “suborned false witnesses from the heretics.” An important player in these events was a certain woman named Alaidis,
a converted heretic who claimed that her husband had been burned for heresy. Thus credentialed, Alaidis led Conrad to her
village, where she pursued a private vendetta, denouncing most of her family as heretics—an accusation doubtless shaped by
her previous disinheritance. Eventually, one of her confederates, a man named Amfridus who was being held in the episcopal
prison, confessed that many innocent people went to the flames, compelled by his own testimony and by “Master Conrad’s fulminating
judgment.”

The letter grimly continues: to those who refused to confess “The Master assured martyrdom [
martyrium promittebat
].” Those who chose to confess had to purchase their lives by denouncing others, an expectation that left them in a paralyzing
quandry: “ ‘I don’t know whom I should accuse: tell me the names of whom you suspect,’ ” they would entreat. The archbishop
of Mainz claimed that he warned Conrad repeatedly to temper his fervor, but to no avail. Indeed, following his defeat at the
Council of Mainz, Conrad defied the archbishop by publicly “preaching the cross” against the many individuals who had failed
to appear in answer to his charges. Such defiance cost Conrad his life. A council was held in Frankfurt the following year,
allegedly to discipline Conrad’s murderers, who were accordingly excommunicated. But the council was also convened to discuss
other matters. An
inquisitio
was initiated to inquire into the death of three boy scholars who had been killed along with the others in the course of Conrad’s
purge. More generally, the question is raised as to what should be done about the innocent dead. The letter concludes by seeking
the pope’s advice.
⁶⁰

Such a document, produced by two such impeccably orthodox authorities as the archbishop of Mainz and a former papal penitentiary,
not only dispelled Conrad’s potential claims for martyrdom but actually secured the title for his victims. Moreover, the instruments
by which “the Master assured [them] martyrdom” were the very tools created to ensure the church’s integrity—the beginning
of an ominous pattern that will continue to escalate with the establishment of a more formal office of inquisition. The letter
concludes with an allusion to a corrective
inquisitio
, presumably to rehabilitate some of Conrad’s victims.
⁶¹

Albric does not yet know how the pope would respond to the letter. Even so, our chronicler seems confident that the pope “greatly
repented [
penitet
] that he had permitted so much power to Master Conrad, whereby such great confusion emerged. Moreover, a certain vision was
recently seen in Germany, through which it was known that Conrad was damned.”
⁶²
Other sources go still further in their indictment of the pope’s inquisitor. As noted in the epigraph, one of the bishops
present at the Council of Frankfurt in 1234 reportedly asserted that Conrad should be exhumed and burned as a heretic. In
this volatile climate, the walls between a martyred saint and a duly executed heretic seemed paper-thin.

The church’s antiheretical initiative is the grim backdrop against which Elisabeth’s life was played out. And there were a
number of areas where the example of her life, and her ensuing cult, were recruited to lend luster to this campaign. Her precedential
significance in the history of sanctity was a clear rebuttal to Cathar dualism and corresponding antifeminism: she was not
only the first female contemporary saint (as contrasted with historical and quasi-legendary figures) but also the first matron
and mother to attain sainthood under the newly centralized system of papal canonization.
⁶³

We can also discern certain hagiographical emphases common among Beguine saints. Elisabeth, too, helped to police the sacramental
system by reminding individuals not to neglect baptizing their infants and urging the sick to confess and communicate. She
is even said to have thrashed one old woman who refused to confess her sins.
⁶⁴
The extreme hardships of her widowed life, moreover, led some of her hagiographers to experiment with the model of white martyrdom,
as will be seen below. Certainly Elisabeth’s followers also showed a marked eagerness to demonstrate her instant currency
as a relic, an assertion that would carry with it a similar antiheretical valence. Her body, though unburied for four days,
was free from all stench of corruption, instead producing an aromatic scent that revivified the spirit. “Many people, burning
with devotion, cut pieces of material from her tunic . . . others cut her hair and nails. Some, moreover, also cut off her
ears. Certain people also cut off her nipples, and saved them as relics.”
⁶⁵
Elisabeth herself, in a “holy jest” (
sancto ioco
), is alleged to have pointed to her tattered clothes, playfully reminding her maids to preserve these rags carefully so they
would not be put to the trouble of searching when the garments were subsequently required as relics.
⁶⁶