Gold among the Ashes: The Deeds of the Guild of St. Anne

In 1430, King Henry VI granted Richard Talbot, archbishop of Dublin, members of Dublinโ€™s city council, and other prominent merchants and citizens the right to form a guild dedicated to St. Anne for the purpose of supporting six priests at the altars at St. Audoenโ€™s church, which stood near the High Street on the western end of the medieval walled city of Dublin.[1]

Fig. 1: Map of Medieval Dublin. Blue arrow points out St. Audoenโ€™s Church. From Howard B. Clarke, โ€œDublin c. 840 to c. 1540: The Medieval Town in the Modern City,โ€ Dublin: Ordinance Survey, 1978.

Guild members were laypeople โ€“ both men and women. Membership in the Guild of St. Anne conferred spiritual, social, and business privileges; members likely supported one another in business, political, marriage, and property transactions. As lessees of Guild property, they received extremely favorable rates. Upon death, members were frequently interred in St. Audoenโ€™s church and its adjoining churchyard; a survey of names on surviving gravestones matches closely with names in Guild records. St Anneโ€™s Guild also appears to have had a close relationship with civic offices. Many of the medieval and early modern mayors, bailiffs, and city officials of Dublin also appear in St. Anneโ€™s Guild documents – both within and outside of their official capacities. There is strong evidence that some of the Guildโ€™s scribes were also active as city clerks or their assistants; these include scribe and author James Yonge (fl. 1404-1438) and his apprentices Thomas Baghill (fl. 1419-1439) and scribe and author Nicholas Bellewe (fl. 1423-74).

Fig. 2: Seal of the Guild of St. Anne, showing the saint instructing the Blessed Virgin Mary. From IMC GSA/17/54, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 43 Elizabeth I, Item 54 (8 December 1600)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-17-54> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501895> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission.

The founding charter of the Guild allowed it to develop its own seal and acquire and control property yielding up to 100 marks per annum for the support of St. Audoenโ€™s chaplains, and in its early years, the Guild set about building its portfolio. One of its notable early acquisitions was the bequest of several properties belonging to John Stafford, a wealthy baker, whose name appears on the founding charter.

Fig 3: Grant of lands to the Guild of St. Anne by Joan Richard, widow and executrix of John Stafford, baker, deceased. IMC GSA/9/79, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 28 Henry VI, Item 79 (4 March 1450)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-9-79> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501617> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission.

As with the Stafford properties, many additional properties were acquired as bequests from Guild members, and several transactions provide for the grantor or his or her survivors for the rest of their natural lives, at which time the property was to revert to the full ownership of the Guild. The gift of property usually ensured that the grantor and his spouse would be remembered forever in the prayers of the priests of St. Audoenโ€™s. When the Guild acquired a new property, they also received previous grants and quitclaims related to the property, which could be consulted if there were ever a challenge regarding the chain of ownership of a parcel. These older documents, dating back to the 1230s, were kept together with the documents granting the property to the Guild and the Guildโ€™s subsequent leases of the property. By the seventeenth century, these were locked in a stout wooden chest to which the Master and two Wardens of the Guild had keys. To guard against malfeasance, the chest was only to be opened in the presence of at least three Guild members.[2] By the time the Guild was dissolved sometime after 1795, it controlled an extensive portfolio of property largely between Winetavern Street and the western city walls and from the quays to the southern city wall. They also controlled individual properties in Dublinโ€™s suburbs and exurbs, including in Dolphinโ€™s Barn, Oxmantown, Kilmainham, and the area around St. Patrickโ€™s Cathedral. In 1535, the Guild acquired the area to the north of the church, known as Blakeneyโ€™s Inns, in exchange for ยฃ20 and their lands in Saucerstown (near Swords). Blakeneyโ€™s Inns consisted of several buildings including a tower, gallery, cellars, a hall, and a garden. It was home to St. Audoenโ€™s College for a short time before being used as housing for St. Audoenโ€™s priests.[3]

Fig. 4: 1535 Agreement in which the Guild of St. Anne acquired Blakeneyโ€™s Inns from James Blakeney of Rykynhore, in exchange for ยฃ20 and lands held by the Guild in Saucerstown. IMC GSA/14/44, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 26 Henry VIII, Item 44 (10 February 1535)’, accessed on VRTI (22 February 2026).

The properties of the Guild became a point of contention in 1620, when in the religious controversies and foment of the Protestant Reformation, the Guild became a target of the officials of the now Protestant Christ Church Cathedral. Not having enough ready cash on hand to effectively fight the legal challenges raised against it and to pay fines and other debts, the Guild in 1620 revoked many of its existing long-term leases, converting them to fee farms, where the grantees paid an up-front fee, then owned the property but owed the Guild an annual rent, in this case at a rate a little higher than the favorable rent on the previous lease. This effectively raised ready cash for the Guild and transferred lands out of Guild ownership while the Guild was able to retain some annual income from them. In 1633, the Guild faced a serious threat to its existence when officials of Christ Church Cathedral, including Thomas Lowe, John Bramhall (Lord Deputy Thomas Wentworthโ€™s personal chaplain), and John Atherton (who would become Bishop of Waterford before his execution in 1640) claimed that the Guild was wealthier than it should be and that the leaders were misappropriating funds. The Guild lost its case before Lord Deputy Thomas Wentworth, who ruled that the fee-farm grants must be converted into sixty-year leases at much higher rents. Bramhall and Atherton were allowed to go through the Guild’s documents. In 1638, they raised rents to ruinous amounts, disregarding tenantsโ€™ investments in the properties, and using threats and intimidation to get tenants to sign new leases. They also packed the membership of the Guild with supporters, voting out the existing Master and Wardens and placing their own hand-picked appointees in leadership positions. The new officers took control of the Guildโ€™s seal matrix and its documents.

This hostile takeover did not last. Some ousted guild members in the crowd may have looked on with satisfaction when Atherton was hanged in Oxmantown โ€“ just across the Liffey from Dublin โ€“ on 5 December 1640. Lord Wentworth himself was executed on May 12, 1641 in London. It took the Guild a few more years after the downfalls of Atherton and Wentworth, however, to undo the damage. A memorandum from a meeting of the Guild in 1653 attempts to turn back the clock, ordering that (1) all tenants would have their leases restored to the terms and rents they had prior to 1638, (2) those who had fallen behind on rent could catch up by paying their original rates, and (3) all of the members who had been placed in the Guild by Bramhall and Atherton be expelled.[4]

Fig. 5: Memorandum of Guild meeting of 26 July 1653 in which properties, rents, and Guild membership was restored to conditions prior to the attacks by Bramhall and Atherton on Guild property and sovereignty. IMC GSA/20/4, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, Interregnum, Item 4 (26 July 1653)’, accessed on VRTI (22 February 2026).

The Guild continued into the early modern period as a large property owner in Dublin, and as an organization protecting Roman Catholic sympathizers, leaning on ancient legal precedent to continue operating. They continued to keep records, collecting them in an abstract book until ca. 1800. The Wide Streets Commission, formed by an act of Parliament in 1757, set about creating a new city with wide avenues and a center located east of the medieval city. The Commission had the power to purchase property to achieve their goals, and much of the Guildโ€™s property wound up in the hands of the Commission. Buildings, alleyways, and even once-bustling streets were cleared to create a new, planned city. Dublinโ€™s past was further obscured in the disastrous explosion and fire in the Public Record Office at the Four Courts on June 30, 1922. Before then, the Guild had faded into obscurity, and its documents became the property of historian and book collector Charles Haliday (1789-1866). They were given to the Royal Irish Academy by Halidayโ€™s widow, Mary, in 1867. The Royal Irish Academy continues to be the steward of this precious collection of medieval and early modern documents. The documents have, however, entered a new period in their history as featured Gold Seam materials on the Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland, made available to the public as of October 22, 2025.[5] Through the efforts of the Royal Irish Academy, former RIA librarian Ludwig Bieler (1906-1981), the Irish Manuscripts Commission, and a large team of researchers, historians, and computer experts at the Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland, these documents are now available in a searchable online database. Users can view high-resolution images of each document and its surviving seals. An English-language summary accompanies each document. As a group, these records preserve a great deal of the medieval history of western Dublin, providing glimpses of lost buildings, streets, and alleyways and those who lived and worked there, along with the infrastructure residents used, such as waterways, markets, and places of education and entertainment. Several documents, particularly wills, provide glimpses into the lives of those whose stories would otherwise be lost, particularly women. The collection, formerly a physical manifestation of the wealth of the Guild of St. Anne, now offers its unparalleled treasures to historians, genealogists, sigillographers, and the curious.

Theresa Oโ€™Byrne, Ph.D., VRTI
Associate Researcher
Delbarton School


[1] RIA GSA/9/17, ‘Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 9 Henry VI, Item 17 (16 December 1430)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/RIA-GSA-9-17> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i500361> (22 February 2026). Repository: Royal Irish Academy.

[2] IMC GSA/21/9, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 21 Charles II, Item 9 (6 September 1669)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-21-9> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501965> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission.

[3] IMC GSA/14/44, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, 26 Henry VIII, Item 44 (10 February 1535)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-14-44> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501769> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission.

[4] IMC GSA/20/1, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, Interregnum, Item 1 (26 July 1653)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-20-1> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501949> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission, and IMC GSA/20/4, ‘Calendar of the Deeds of the Guild of St Anne, Interregnum, Item 4 (26 July 1653)’. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/IMC-GSA-20-4> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i501952> (22 February 2026). Repository: Irish Manuscripts Commission.

[5]https://www.ria.ie/2025/10/28/launch-of-new-digital-resource-providing-access-to-hundreds-of-dublin-records-from-the-period-1237-1778/ (accessed 22 February 2026)

How to Do Things with Diagrams? A 13thย Century Kabbalistic Experiment with a 12thย Century Cosmographic Cycle

Jewish Kabbalistic writings often construct elaborate systems to assist their metaphysical speculations on the divine realm. Occasionally, these systems are presented through diagrams that map out the structure of divine potencies and the dynamic relationships between these potencies and the created world. The best-known examples are the numerous variations of thetheosophical Sefirotic Tree, whose branching structure has come to epitomize the dynamic order of divine entities and powers, (sefirot). Yet the early 13th century Kabbalists also drew on other types of geometric diagrams that were readily available in the scientific and theological environments of the time, namely, the concentric spherical diagram as generally informed by Ptolemaic astronomy. These diagrams, which consisted of ten spheresโ€”the 7 traditional planets, the sphere of fixed stars, the diurnal sphere (Primum Mobile), and, in some cases, the Universal Intellectโ€”were integrated and further modified by Jewish theological and Kabbalistic doctrines of creation.

Kabbalistic texts illustrate how dynamic and adaptive these cosmological models were. So much so, that Kabbalists often integrated elements from markedly different systems, mainly theological or cosmogenic, thereby reconstruing the nature, logic, and order of the cosmic diagrams of the time. One notable case appears in Ginnat Egoz (The Garden of the Nut), a cosmic-Kabbalistic work composed in 1274 by the Castilian Kabbalist Joseph Giqatilla. His text includes a spherical diagram that serves as the structural skeleton of his cosmology (Figures 1โ€“2).

Figure 1: The British Library, MS Add. 11416, fol. 147r.

As the diagram suggests, Giqatilla reconfigured the concentric model by integrating the first ten Hebrew letters as ciphers which stand for the โ€˜parts of the cosmosโ€™. In the manuscripts of Ginnat Egoz, the diagram usually appears as two concentric circlesโ€”an inner and an outer sphere. On the inner circumference are inscribed the first ten Hebrew letters, ordered counterclockwise: ื, ื‘, ื’, ื“, ื”, ื•, ื–, ื—, ื˜, ื™. These letters, and the Hebrew alphabet more generally, played a significant role in ciphering complex cosmic structures, also due to their numerical value as established in early Rabbinic tradition. The numerology of the Hebrew letters was constructive tool for recasting the relationship between the spheres and parts of the cosmos, as ciphered by the first ten Hebrew letters:

The ten letters correspond to the โ€œten parts of the universeโ€, a term which refers to both the number of spheres and to the 10 cosmic qualities that the Hebrew letters carry together with their respective numerical values. The latter is pivotal for the construction of a dynamic cosmos that operates by the qualities epitomized by these linguistic principles. Another pivotal addition is the symbol ื™ื, hovering above the inner concentric letter-arrangement. The numerical value of this symbol is 11, or 10 + 1 (ื™+ื). In Jewish Neoplatonic literature ื™ื often represents the transcendent One in relationship to the tenfold cosmos. In Giqatillaโ€™s diagram it takes on an additional function, namely, the primary principle of divine motion which sustains and governs and spheres.

Figure 2:ย Paris, Bibliothรจque nationale de France, MS Hรฉb,ย 811, fol. 30r.

The categorical distinction between the ten cosmic parts and the principle of divine motion likely prompted later copyists of the Garden of the Nut to render Giqatillaโ€™s cosmic diagram more schematically. Thus, a sixteenth-century manuscript in (Figure 3) arranges the ten letters on one side of the sphere, directly opposite the symbol ื™ื on the other. Each side bears a heading: แธฅelqe ha-galgal (โ€œparts of the sphereโ€) and tenuสฟah ื™ื (โ€˜motion Yโ€˜), respectively. Whereas the diagram in the Paris and London manuscripts can be considered integrative (in the sense that the hovering symbol ื™ื is situated in dialogue with the running alphabetic circle), the diagram in the Munich manuscript is pronounceably schematic.      

Figure 3:ย Ginnat Egoz, Munich, Bavarian State Library, MS Cod. hebr. 54, fol. 175r.

The idea that the universe consists of the principles embedded in the Hebrew alphabet is central to many Jewish texts, and The Garden of the Nut marks another important moment in this rich speculative tradition. But it also affords us an opportunity to better assess the role that diagrams play in the intersection of cosmology and theology. Particularly, Giqatillaโ€™s letter-cosmography stresses the question whether Kabbalistic diagrams served a goal beyond the mere pedagogical illustration of complex ideas? Addressing this question is also instructive for assessing the manuscript tradition of Giqatillaโ€™s Garden of Nut which includes a markedly distinct rendition of the alphabetic-spherical diagram.  

Abraham Ibn Ezraโ€™s 12th century Arithmetic Cycle

Let us begin by noting that Giqatillaโ€™s diagram has a history. It bears striking allusions to a diagram presented by the Andalusian polymath Abraham Ibn Ezra (12 c.), one of Giqatillaโ€™s major influences. In his Sefer ha-Mispar (โ€œBook of Numbersโ€), composed over a century prior to The Garden of Nut, Ibn Ezra offered perhaps the earliest systematic Hebrew introduction to the decimal number system. He prefaced it with a brief meditation on the symbolic qualities of the nine numbers and their analogy to the nine spheres encompassing earth:

[The Hebrew word] Sfar refers to the nine numbers, since nine is the end of any reckoning. You should know that the nine are the true numbers which stand against the nine spheres and all the ensuing numbers are assimilated to them

โ€”ย Abraham Ibn Ezra, Preface to Sefer ha-Mispar, trans. Shlomo Sela (excerpt; adapted).

The first nine Hebrew letters (ืโ€“ื˜) represent the numbers 1โ€“9 and the nine celestial spheres surrounding the sublunary realm. The sequence proceeds counterclockwise, with แนญet (ื˜, 9) at the apex. Ibn Ezra assumes also the additional symbol 0 (‘void’), functioning as a placeholder within a decimal system. Ibn Ezra is not explicit about the cosmic analogue of the 0, though one might wonder if he had the sublunar realm in mind.

Figure 4: Ibn Ezra,ย Sefer ha-Mispar; Vienna, Austrian National Library, MS Cod. hebr. D 194, fol. 90v..

While not figured in the diagram, the letter yod (ื™, 10) is implied as the radix of the decimal system, rather than one of its counted elements. What is significant about Ibn Ezra circular diagram is its arithmetic  mechanism which demonstrates the harmony of the 9 letters and, consequently, of the spheres: Multiplying 9 by any descending integer yields products whose digits are positioned as diametrically opposite pairs.

Figure 5: The Austrian National Library, MS Cod. hebr.ย ย D 194, fol. 90v.

Reconstructing Giqatillaโ€™s Experiment

Ibn Ezra was a polymathic thinker and several of his ideas, in both areas of linguistics and cosmology, became pivotal to Giqatilla. There are grounds to assume that Ibn Ezraโ€™s cosmic diagram was among these adopted ideas, and not simply because of the graphic and doctrinal allusions. If we read Giqatillaโ€™s diagram through Ibn Ezraโ€™s arithmetical logic, its inner workings become clearer. In the discussion following his diagram, Giqatilla introduces various cosmic constructs by manipulating the elements presented in the alphabetic diagram. One of these hermeneutical products is the following fourfold set of letters: โ€œThe parts of the sphere [are] ืื˜ (AT), ื‘ื— (Bแธค), ื’ื– (GZ), ื“ื• (DW).โ€

Figure 6: London, British Library, MS Add. 11417, fol. 147r.

This set alludes to an established Rabbinic hermeneutical formula, known asย ืื˜ื‘ืดื—ย (ATBแธค), where specific letters in the Hebrew alphabetic system are interchangeable with their respective counterparts โ€“ e.g.,ย  the letter โ€™aleph (ื) with tet (ื˜), bet (ื‘) with แธฅet (ื—), and so forth. Giqatilla adopts this hermeneutical device while recasting its function and significance through the logic of Ibn Ezraโ€™s cosmic-decimal system. He does not spell out his methods, but the logic can be construed if we correctly identify the key variables in his diagram while using Ezraโ€™s system as a frame of reference. The same variables are at play in each of the systems:

  1. The multiplicand โ€“ the sequential letters around the circle;
  2. The multiplier โ€“ the letter at the apex (แนญet, 9, in Ibn Ezra; yod, 10, in Giqatilla);
  3. The radix โ€“ the numerical base that determines the systemโ€™s internal coherence.

The crucial change lies in this last variable. The compound symbol ื™ื, whose numerical value is 11 (โ€™aleph + yod), stands above the circle as a new counting base Giqatillaโ€™s diagram therefore operates not on a decimal but on an undecimal system. (Giqatilla uses the symbol ื™ื for this undecimal radix, but for the sake of clarity we may use the letter A as a placeholder for the radix 11, by which logic the number 10 is the last of the counted number: 1-10.)

Figure 7: Paris, BnF, MS hรฉb. 811, fol. 30r.

This small adjustment transforms the arithmetic while recasting the parts of the universe. Where Ibn Ezraโ€™s 9 ร— 9 produced 81 (ืื—), Giqatillaโ€™s multiplication (within an undecimal system) yields 73 (ื’ื–). Each of the ten letters, multiplied by 10, produces a value recalculated according to base 11. The decimal radix and unitsโ€™ places are redefined: 10ยฒ = 9(A) + 1, where A signifies the new radix 11 and, 1 represents the remainder. Similarly, the product 9 ร— 10, which equals 90 in decimal terms, becomes 82 in the undecimal system [8(A) + 2]. The letter ื—ืณ represents the undecimal grouping [8(A)] and 1 constitutes the remainder of the unit digit.

Under this paradigm, Giqatilla reconstructs the ATBแธค letter-pairing formula. From his modified arithmetic emerges the four pairings: ืื˜ (AT), ื‘ื— (Bแธค), ื’ื– (GZ), ื“ื• (DW). Each represents a structural correspondence between cosmic parts as sustained by divine motion, echoing but transforming Ibn Ezraโ€™s earlier decimal pairs (ืื—, ื‘ื–, ื’ื•, ื“ื”). Following Ibn Ezraโ€™s logic, the digits constituting the resulted value stand symmetrically in relationship to the apex (the multiplier), while diametrically opposing each other: ืื˜ (AT), ื‘ื— (Bแธค), ื’ื– (GZ),  and ื“ื• (DW). Similarly, the addition of the two digits/letter of each pairโ€”e.g. ื+ื˜โ€”amounts to the apex (10) and thus completes the order of numbers. Diverging from Ibn Ezra, Giqatillaโ€™s apex is the letter ื™ืณ  (rather than ื˜ืณ) and, more importantly, the radix, that is, the basis of the system in toto, is the combine letters ื™ื (rather than ื™ืณ).

The addition of ื™ื to the cosmic diagram is quite instructive. It reveals how established systems are adopted and further modified by new metaphysical and theological ideas, on the one hand, and with the aid of traditional hermeneutical formulas, on the other. Like other 13th century Kabbalists, Giqatilla developed a distinct cosmology which he based on the active principle of the ื™ื, the latter signifying the One as the direct and active and cause of cosmic motion and its sustainability. No less significant is what Giqatillaโ€™s adopted diagram teaches us about how original theological systems take form. Giqatillaโ€™s model borrows from the available systems of his time while reworking their elements and, at the same time, โ€˜reinventingโ€™ a new cosmology whose principles and essence assume a different and perhaps more radical conception of creation. Finally, this process of adaptation also shows us why graphic precision is important.  The schematic version of the diagram (Figure 3) loses the entire logic of the spherical letters in relationship to the apex, and their diametric opposition in relationship to each other. I shall conclude this interesting spherical diagram journey, from Ibn Ezra to Giqatilla, with the afterlife of Giqatillaโ€™s Garden of Nut. This work occupies a unique and important place in Kabbalistic literature, and some of its ideas and themes left a noticeable mark on subsequent Kabbalistic developments. One of these themes is the spherical diagram which the fourteenth century Kabbalist Menaแธฅem แนขiyyoni incorporated and further reworked in his commentary on the Pentateuch.

Figure 8: แนขiyyuni, London, British Library, MS Or. 13261, fol. 55r.

Difference and shifts in the process of copying was not unique to The Garden of Nut and here, too, we find interesting variations among manuscripts.

Figure 9: ย แนขiyyuni, Munich, Bavarian State Library, Cod. hebr. 76, fol. 154b.

The diagram is modified considerably in a Munich manuscript. (Figure 9) Not only does it reconfigure the diametric order of the letters, running now clockwise, it repositions the letter yod (ื™). This letter now initiates a new inner circle consisting of the Hebrew letters ื™, ืฆ, ื›, ืค, ืœ, ืข, ืž, ืก, ื  the latter forming the pairs ื™ืฆ, ื›ืค, ืœืข, ืžืก (These pairs complete the constituents of some version of the Rabbinic ATBแธค hermeneutic formula.)
 
Giqatillaโ€™s ATBแธค sphere provided the basis for further cosmic-theological diagrams. Some of these were modified and integrated into more complex theosophical systems of divine potencies (structured vertically) while borrowing further elements from the hermeneutical ATBแธค formula (Figure 10).

Figure 10: A marginale with the pairs ืื˜ ื‘ื— ื’ื– ื“ื• ื™ืฆ ื›ืค ืœืข ืžืก , and with the additional pairs ืงืฅ ืจืฃ ืฉืŸ ืชื โ€“ in a copy of แธคayyim Vitalโ€™s Kabbalistic Derush ATBแธค (16-17 c.). Moscow, Russian State Library, Gรผnzburg Collection, MS 1446, fol. 182r. The last pair ืชื does not appear in all versions.

All in all, the journey from Ibn Ezra to Giqatilla, and from Giqatilla to later theosophical Kabbalistic texts, offers a glimpse into the workings of a dynamic and creative force of Jewish theological speculation, producing conceptual shifts within a multifaceted intellectual history.

Tzvi Schoenberg, PhD
Arts and Letters Provost Postdoctoral Fellow 
Medieval Institute
University of Notre Dame 

Sources:

The Bavarian State Library, MS Cod. hebr. 54, fol. 175r

The Bavarian State Library, MS Cod. hebr. 76  fol. 154v

The National Library of France, MS hรฉb. 811, 30v

The British Library, MS Add. 11416, fol. 147r

The British Library, MS Or.13261, fol. 55r

The Austrian National Library, MS Cod. hebr. 194, fol. 90v

The Russian State Library, MS Guenzburg 1446, fol. 182r

Further reading: 

Yosef Avivi, Kabbalat ha-Ari, vol. 1 (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Institute, 2008), 445 (Hebrew)

Avishai Bar-Asher and Jeremy Phillip Brown, Light is Sown: The Cultivation of Kabbalah in Medieval Castile (New York: Oxford University Press, 2025), 73-115 (esp. 99-106)

J.H. Chajes, โ€œSpheres, Sefirot, and the Imaginal Astronomical Discourse of Classical Kabbalah,โ€ Harvard Theological Review, 113: 2 (2020) 230โ€“262

J. H. Chajes, The Kabbalistic Tree (Pennsylvania State University Press, 2022)

Elke Morlok, Rabbi Joseph Gikatillaโ€™s Hermeneutics (Tรผbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011)

Yakir Paz and Tzahi Weiss, โ€œFrom Encoding to Decoding: The AแนฌBแธค of R. Hiyya in Light of a Syriac, Greek, and Coptic Cipher,โ€ Journal of Near Eastern Studies 74: 1 (2015): 95โ€“114

James T. Robinson, “The ‘Secret of the Heavens’ and the ‘Secret of Number’: Immanuel of Romeโ€™s Mathematical Supercommentaries on Abraham Ibn Ezra in His Commentary on Qohelet 5:7 and 7:27”, Aleph, 21:. 2 (2021): 279-308

Shlomo Sela, Abraham Ibn Ezra and the Rise of Medieval Hebrew Science (Leiden: Brill, 2003)

Judith Weiss, โ€œSpherical Sefirot in Early Kabbalah.โ€ Harvard Theological Review 117: 4 (2024): 770-792

Notaries in Medieval and Early Modern Ireland

In June of 2023, I arranged to meet my friend and fellow historian Caoimhe Whelan for a short breakfast during one of my rare trips to Ireland. I had given the rest of the day over to research, a concession of one day in what was supposed to be a family holiday. At breakfast, Caoimhe introduced me to Stuart Kinsella, Christ Church Cathedralโ€™s Research Advisor; he was chasing down the scribes and notaries of the Cathedralโ€™s later medieval manuscripts, and had run across a few pages at the back of my dissertation – an appendix cataloguing all of the notaries I had found in the process of investigating the life and career of Anglo-Irish author and notary James Yonge. In introducing me to Stuart, Caoimhe inadvertently cancelled my vacation. Breakfast was consumed. We talked. We ordered coffee. Stuart got out his carefully compiled list of notaries. We talked some more. Soon we were ordering lunch. We compared images, debated the merits of early 20th-century drawings of documents lost in a catastrophic 1922 fire a half mile from where we sat, and began making plans. By the end of the morning, we had explored several possibilities for a project far wider than my study of James Yonge or Stuartโ€™s study of Christ Church scribes and notaries. Every spare moment I could get for the rest of my time in Ireland was given over to notaries. (Caoimhe would go on to destroy my summer holidays the following year with a grainy image of a notarial signum taken at Sarah Grahamโ€™s lecture at Leeds, but that is a tale for another time.)

            Notaries were specialized legal scribes used principally by the ecclesiastical courts to record proceedings and produce official documents. Notaries could be found in every corner of medieval and early modern Europe, and were particularly prevalent on the Italian and Iberian peninsulas where they also played a role in civil courts. In England and English-controlled Ireland, English civil law did not provide for notaries, and as a result they were far fewer in number. Notaries found their way, however, into civil procedures, particularly in cases where an official witness was needed. Notaries not associated with the church were paid by laypeople to produce documents that might be helpful in future cases in the ecclesiastical courts, particularly those regarding marriage or legitimacy.[1] In Anglo-Ireland, these specialized scribes also created new, authenticated copies of documents that had become faded or damaged. Notaries also served as official witnesses in disputes, creating documents functioning similarly to a sworn deposition; their instruments record in a matter-of-fact way dramatic moments in the lives of ordinary people. For instance, a 1406 instrument of James Yonge records that Robert Burnell wanted John Lytill to place his seal on some documents; Lytill refused, and Burnell responded by seizing Lytill in a Dublin street and holding him hostage until he acquiesced.[2] Another instrument by Thomas Baghill records an attempt to interfere in a will. On his deathbed, William Moenes was approached by his brother, Robert, who attempted to claim Williamโ€™s property, despite the objections of William himself, who even in his extremity protested that he wished his property to go to his uncleโ€™s daughters.[3] Both of these instruments were probably intended for later use in civil cases regarding the disposition of property.

            Notarial instruments are most easily identified by their signa. Each notary developed his own unique signum manuale, a pen-and-ink drawing that he used to authenticate the documents he created. These frequently looked like altar crosses. During the Tudor period, notarial signa became panels of knotwork.

Signum manuale of William Walch (fl. 1525-1538) on a document created in 1525 in the Waterford area and now housed at the National Library of Ireland, D.2129. Image courtesy of the National Library of Ireland.

Once developed, a notaryโ€™s signum remained fixed; he would use the same signum for the rest of his career. On an instrument, the signum manuale is also accompanied by an eschatocol, a formulaic attestation that the notary has heard and witnessed what is recorded in the document and that the contents are true to the best of the notaryโ€™s knowledge. Eschatocols frequently begin with an E that can be quite plain or highly ornamented, depending on the notary. Again, notariesโ€™ Es tended to remain somewhat fixed. The signum and eschatocol provide a key to identifying a notaryโ€™s handwriting in other contexts. For instance, James Yonge was also the scribe of over one hundred surviving documents, signed and unsigned. Notary William Somerwell, who worked for the archbishops of Armagh, was also one of the principal contributors to the registers of archbishops Nicholas Fleming (1404-1416), John Swayne (1418-1439), John Prene (1449-1453), and John Mey (1443-1456).

Signum manuale of William Somerwell (fl.1422-1459), on a document bound into the Registrum Iohannis Mey, PRONI DIO 4/2/6, Book 3, fol. 393, reproduced by permission of the Deputy Keeper of Records, Public Record Office of Northern Ireland (PRONI).

Signa have also been instrumental in identifying groups of notaries. For instance, James Yongeโ€™s student Thomas Baghill borrowed portions of his masterโ€™s signum when developing his own.[4]

Signum manuale of James Yonge (fl. 1404-1438), deeds of the Guild of St. Anne, Royal Irish Academy 12.S.22โ€“31, no. 343 (12 December 1432). By permission of the Royal Irish Academy ยฉ RIA.
Signum manuale of Thomas Baghill (fl.1419-1439). Note Baghillโ€™s imitation of Yongeโ€™s cross outline. Deeds of the Guild of St. Anne, Royal Irish Academy 12.S.22-31, no. 253 (27 January 1431). By permission of the Royal Irish Academy ยฉ RIA.

Weโ€™ve also discovered signa in contexts outside of notarial instruments. Of particular note is the signum of an as-yet-unidentified notary in the margins of a Hiberno English translation of Gerald of Walesโ€™ Expugnatio Hibernica.[5]

Our survey of Anglo-Irish notaries is still in its infancy, and we are seeking sources of funding. We are currently trying to document as many notaries from medieval and early modern Ireland as possible as an entry into a larger exploration of notariesโ€™ training, scribal networks, and documents. We hope to create a searchable online database of notarial marks and scribal hands for Ireland as a starting point for a more extensive resource cataloging the marks of medieval and early modern notaries of the British Isles. We would also love to see a future collaborative database of European notaries.

            Ian Doyle once wrote of palaeography that โ€œthe jigsaw puzzle we are all working on is so big that it may need the help of every eye to try to fit a piece in it.โ€[6] We believe the same is true of medieval and early modern notaries. This is where you, dear reader, come in. We heartily invite researchers in any area of medieval and early modern Europe to let us know about any notaries or notarial signa you encounter in your own research. The projectโ€™s email address is notarius.ie@gmail.com. We welcome your comments and contributions!

Theresa Oโ€™Byrne

Associate Researcher, Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland

Latin and history instructor, Delbarton School


[1] C.R. Cheney, Notaries Public in England in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972, p. 56; Patrick Zutshi, โ€œNotaries Public in England in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries,โ€ Historia, Instituciones, Documentos 23 (1996), pp. 421-33, at p. 426.

[2] Trinity College Dublin MS 1477, no. 69, 16 March 1406.

[3] Royal Irish Academy 12.S.22-31, no. 826, 17 April 1434.

[4] Theresa Oโ€™Byrne, โ€œNotarial Signs and Scribal Training in the Fifteenth Century: The Case of James Yonge and Thomas Baghill,โ€ Journal of the Early Book Society 15 (2012): 305โ€“18.

[5] Trinity College Dublin MS 592, fol. 6v.

[6] A.I. Doyle, โ€˜Retrospect and Prospectโ€™, in Manuscripts and Readers in Fifteenth-Century England, ed. D. Pearsall (Cambridge, 1983), pp. 142โ€“6 (pp. 145โ€“6).