University of Virginia Library

A CATALOGUE OF
THE EXPLANATORY TITLES
OF THE PLAN OF ST. GALL

PREFACE

THE explanatory titles of the Plan of St. Gall are discussed in widely scattered places in the main body of this
work, in the specific contexts of the buildings with which they are associated, as well as in the broad range of
architectural and historical problems they raise. In such fragmentation, the inscriptions cannot be studied as a
whole and coherent body of texts. Yet, the explicit content and cultural implications of these inscriptions make
their ready accessibility not only desirable, but even imperative.

Of the 340 separate annotations on the Plan of St. Gall, more than 300 have no other purpose than to explain
specifically, and often in highly technical terms, the uses and functions of the 40-odd buildings which comprise
the monastery, the assigned use of individual rooms in these buildings, and, as well, the nature and function of
each piece of furniture or equipment installed in these rooms. The superior intellect of its originator and his deep
concern with detail make the Plan a storehouse of lexicographical information furnishing the student with an
opportunity for linguistic exegesis that has no equivalent in any other historical source on medieval art and
architecture. The words elucidate the drawing, the drawing elucidates the words. They combine to reveal in
intimate detail whatever one would want to learn about the buildings of the Plan, and explicate, with an unparalleled
thoroughness, whatever is required—in architectural, liturgical, educational, medical, technological
and agricultural terms—to support the purposes and the high quality of life within the confines of a self-sustaining
religious community.

It is in view of the profound relevance this material has for the history of medieval architecture, both monastic
and vernacular, as well as for the history of medieval economy and for medieval life in general, that we thought
it imperative to make all this explanatory matter available in a coherent and easily identifiable form for the benefit
of those who are interested in the Latinity of the Plan, its linguistic and paleographic details, and who, in this
manner, inter alia, will also be enabled to critically evaluate our success or failure to interpret this material
correctly.

To further these ends we have presented in the Catalogue that follows, in juxtaposition: first, a reproduction of
each inscription as it appears on the Plan (for legibility enlarged to one and one-half times the size of the original);

second, a transliteration of the inscription simulating its original character as closely as modern typesetting
permits; and third, our interpretation of the texts rendered in English. While the inscriptions, seen here in their
architectural ambient, are able to furnish a unique and intimate view of the Plan, this Catalogue is not meant to
substitute for a facsimile of the entire document, an artifact already admirably executed by the firm of E. LöpfeBenz
of Rorschach.[1]

It is no small presumption to dissect an entire document into graphic components in order to scrutinize its
details. At risk is the coherence of the whole artifact. If we have avoided the worst of that hazard, it owes to the
patience and skill of Ernest Born who, from the viewpoint of book design, found this Catalogue to be the most
complex, time-consuming, and esthetically challenging part of the task to which he has devoted long attention.

The general historical implications of the explanatory titles of the Plan have been discussed in earlier chapters.[2]
In the present context we will make a few remarks about the Latinity of these texts, the manner in which they
are visually displayed, and some of their primary paleographical characteristics.

LATINITY

The Latin of the titles is lucid, as even a peremptory reading of this catalogue reveals. It makes use of a judicious and
sophisticated alternation of prose and verse. With a few exceptions (discussed below), verses—hexameters and distychs—
are employed to designate the general purpose of a building, whereas prose is used for their component parts and furnishings[3] .

PROSE

The prose is logical and unambiguous, and the diction conveys meaning with great precision. This holds true even for the
letter of transmission which, although without any internal flaw, has caused some consternation among scholars. Closer
inspection has shown that whatever controversies arose in connection with this text were due not to any inherent ambiguities
in its style or composition, but rather to linguistic misconceptions of its modern interpreters. The note has the form of a
regular letter, naming its receiver, addressing him directly, revealing that the Plan was made upon the request of its receiver,
and that it needed for a particular purpose.[4] Its only truly tantalizing feature is that it lacks a signature. There is no cause
to blame the author for this omission. The Plan of St. Gall was not made for posterity, but for the benefit of an abbot,
who had no trouble in identifying the high person who furnished him with this scheme.

In the entire body of inscriptions only seven words have given rise to conflicting interpretations: the terms exemplata and
officina (in the letter of transmission), uacatio (in the Outer School), seruitium (in the House for Servants from Outlying
Estates), sauina (in the Monks' Cloister), toregma (in the Monks' Refectory and the House for Distinguished Guests), and
testu (in the Hospice for Pilgrims and Paupers and in the Outer School). In four of these cases a search for contemporary
parallels has shown that their meaning is unequivocal. Exemplata means "copied," not "by way of example"
as had been proposed.[5] Officina cannot be restricted to the meaning "workshop" but refers to all of the buildings of a
monastic settlement.[6] Uacatio means "time vacated from other obligations for the purpose of learning" and cannot be
interpreted to mean "recreation" as its modern derivative "vacation" has tempted some to suggest.[7] Seruitium are the
services due an overlord by his tenants and serfs, and is a term applicable to both secular and ecclesiastical lords.[8] Sauina
is the classical and medieval designation for the savin plant. Its meaning is clear although we are at some difficulty in explaining
fully the reasons that this plant was given a place of such honor in the Monks' Cloister.[9] Toregma, in the previous
literature on the Plan varyingly interpreted as "cupboard," "a vessel for washing hands," "a chair or cushioned seat" or

"a water fountain," is a latinization (otherwise not attested) of Greek τορευμα. The term, whose painful multivalence was
stretched even by its medieval users beyond the limits of propriety,[10] is used on the Plan of St. Gall as a designation
for "cupboard," as must be inferred from the shape of the object to which this term refers (Monks' Refectory, Abbot's
House, House for Distinguished Guests). We are aware of only one other literary source (Ruodlieb), in which the term is
used in this sense. Testu in the literature on the Plan, consistently misread as testudo ("turtle shell"), means "protective
shell" or "cover." I have not been able to find any contemporary parallels, but the architectural context in which it appears
on the Plan suggests that its meaning is "louver", i.e., a protective covering over an opening in the roof that serves as
smoke escape and as light inlet.[11]

The term formula requires some explanation. The shape and size of the objects into which this word is inscribed (long,
narrow rectangles in the crossing and transept of the Church) precludes that it be interpreted as "lectern" as has been
proposed[12] (the scribe's term for lectern is analogium). Among the numerous references to forma and formula quoted by
Du Cange and Niermeyer and indexed in source books such as Lehmann-Brockhaus (1935, 1938, 1955-1960) or the five
volumes of the Corpus Consuetudinum Monasticarum (1963-1968) there is only one instance, a rather late one at that, where
formula has been interpreted as "lectern"—incorrectly in my opinion.[13] The history of the term is interesting. In Classical
Latin forma and its diminutive formula served to denote such concepts as "norm," "rule," "guiding principle," or "covenant,"
but also stood for "matrix," "pattern," or "mould."[14] It is in the former sense that the term is used by St. Benedict
in an often-quoted passage in which he defines the human and intellectual qualities which an abbot must possess:
In doctrina sua namque abbas apostolicam debet illam semper formam seruare, in qua dicit: "Argue, obserua, increpa."

"For the abbot in his teaching ought always to observe the rule of the apostle, wherein he says: `Reprove, persuade,
rebuke.' "[15]

The term retained this meaning throughout the Middle Ages, but in addition generated a distinctly different variant when
it became a designation for a liturgical piece of furniture that, depending on context, may be varyingly translated as "church
bench," as "kneeling-bench" (prie-Dieu) or as "choir-stalls"—a meaning that I suppose evolved from its secondary
classical usage "matrix" or "mould." The shape and size of the objects into which the word formula is inscribed on the
Plan suggests that it was here used in the sense of "bench" (for sitting). Yet an even furtive review of its use in Merovingian,
Carolingian and later medieval sources discloses that it served even more frequently as a designation for a liturgical
contrivance that in modern French, English and German is referred to as "prie-Dieu," "kneeling bench," and
"Betstuhl," viz., a piece of furniture that supports the body when kneeling and may also be used as prop during the
deep liturgical inclinations in which the monks engage in the more sacred phases of their religious service. These prayer-supports
could either be set up separately in front of the choir benches or they could be physically attached to them (as
in the elaborate choir stalls of the high medieval abbey and cathedral churches) which explains the use of forma and formula
for either one (i.e., a bench for sitting) or the other (i.e., a support for kneeling and liturgical inclination) or the combination
of both in a fully developed choir stall (i.e., a piece of furniture, in which a solid row of prayer-supports is firmly
attached to a range of benches with hinged seats and a high-rising back.

A good example for the use of formula in the sense of bench is in the Vita sanctae Geretrudis, in a passage referring to
an event that occurred in 783 A.D.:

Haec audiens peregrina. . .eam duxit in ecclesiam beatae Mariae virginis et posuit eam ante formulam, ubi Geretrudis sancta
sedere solebat.

"In hearing this the woman on pilgrimage. . .conducted her [i.e., a young girl who had a vision of St. Gertrude] into the
church of our blessed virgin Mary and placed her before the bench where Saint Gertrude used to be seated."[16]

Unmistakably used in the sense of "support for kneeling in prayer" is the term in the famous petition (probably drafted
by Eigil, later abbot of Fulda) which the monks of Fulda submitted first to Charlemagne in 812, and again to Louis
the Pious in 817:

Quod infirmorum maior cura sit et miseratio senum videlicet et debilium neque penuria victus affligantur neque vestitus paupertate
conterantur et nec ineptiis aliquibus vexentur, ita ut nec baculum eis pro sustentatione fere liceat nec ad inclinatorium, quod nos

formulas dicimus, morando haerere, quia caecus et claudus non possunt sine sustentatione baculi bene incedere nec decrepitus sine
formula genua flectere.

"That special care be taken of the sick and mercy extended to the old and feeble so that they may not be afflicted by a
shortage of food nor struck by poverty in clothing nor subjected to any other unsuitable vexations such as being forbidden
to carry a staff for their support, or linger and cling to the inclinatorium, which we call formula, because the blind and
and the lame cannot move about without a staff nor can the decrepit bend his knees without a formula."[17]

The passage is interesting because it discloses that the prie-Dieu although clearly known, was not in general use at that
period (at least not so far as the Abbey of Fulda is concerned) since the monks in their petition speak of them as a privilege
to be made available to the old and feeble. The author of the Plan of St. Gall, as already stated, used formula in
connection with an object so shaped that it can only be interpreted as "bench," and in terms of literal visual exegesis
this is the way it should be interpreted. But in designating this object by the term formula (more frequently used in the
sense of prie-Dieu than in the sense of "bench" in contemporary sources) he may have wanted to imply that these benches,
if desired, could be furnished with a range of lean-to's to support the monks when kneeling or bending.

Special attention must be drawn to the use of the word domus, since confusion about the meaning of this term among
earlier students of the Plan has had an adverse effect upon the identification of the building type in which the workmen,
the serfs, and the animals are housed. We have discussed this matter at length in its proper place in the second volume,[18]
and therefore confine ourselves here to simply re-emphasizing that on the Plan of St. Gall the word domus is
used not as a designation for the whole of the house, but (as its qualifying adjectives disclose) for an important spatial
function of the building: its "common living room" (domus communis) or "principal room" (domus ipsa) where its components
gather around the open central fireplace, as distinguished from the peripheral rooms which serve more specialized
occupants such as sleeping or the stabling of livestock. In only one instance, in the hexameter that defines the purpose of
the House for Goats and Goatherds, does the term domus refer to the entire structure.[19]

The term pisale is on the Plan of St. Gall exclusively used as a designation for rooms that are heated by warm air generated
in a subterranean firing chamber and channeled into the interior by heat ducts installed under the floor (Monks'
Warming Room, as well as the warming rooms of the Novitiate and the Infirmary).[20] This is in full conformity with its
classical root pensilis, an adjective formed from pendere (to hang, to be suspended) and in architecture employed as a
technical term for structures that do not rest exclusively on their own foundations, but are raised upon columns, pillars,
arches or vaults as was the case with rooms in Roman houses or baths that were heated by hypocausts.[21] The term changed
its meaning later on, when it produced French poêle (stove) and Middle High German pisel, phiesel and phiselgadem (a
heatable room).[22] Rooms with corner fireplaces are referred to as caminatae, (prime example: House for Distinguished
Guests).[23] The term caminata, however, is also used for the corner fireplaces themselves (Abbot's House).[24]

The word solarium appears only once on the Plan (Abbot's House) in a textual and architectural context, that makes it
unequivocably clear that it refers to the upper level of a masonry building whose rooms gave access to the rays of the sun
by means of windows.[25] Pistrinum is exclusively used in the sense of "bakery," never in its alternate classical meaning of
"mill."[26] This again is in complete conformity with common contemporary parlance. The term porticus, however, has
two distinctly different meanings. In the Monks' Cloister,[27] the Cloister for the Novices[28] and the Cloister for the Sick,[29]
it is used in the traditional classical sense as designation for a colonnaded gallery or porch, giving access to, or being
attached to some other (usually larger) structure.[30] In this sense it is also used for the two sunlit porches of the Abbot's
House (porticus arcubus lucida).[31] But in one of the most important explanatory titles of the Church of the Plan porticus

clearly stands for "aisle" (latitudo utriusque porticus pedum xx);[32] hence denotes a space that is not attached to the Church,[33]
but forms an integral part of its spatial composition. The extension of meaning from "porch" to "aisle" needs hardly
any comment, since the morphology and function of a galleried porch are virtually identical with those of the aisles of a
basilican church, the only difference being that in one case the gallery opens outward, in the other inward. Yet despite
these similarities the term does not appear to have gained great popularity as a designation for "aisle." Hrabanus Maurus
(ca. 776-856) uses it in this sense in his verse description of the Abbey Church of Fulda (dedicated in 818) where, with
a verbal discrimination rare in medieval poetry, clear distinction is made between the northern and the southern aisle of
the church (in porticu septemtrionali—in porticu meridiana) the transept (transversa domus), the eastern apse (in abside orientali),
the western apse (in abside occidentali), and the crypt (in crypta).[34] But this is the only Carolingian occurrence of this use
of the term, outside the Plan of St. Gall, that is known to me. The pre-Carolingian biographies compiled in the Liber
Pontificalis do not employ it in this sense[35] and the bibliographical sources published in the Scriptores rerum Merovingicarum
where the term appears in numerous places, contains not a single case where porticus can be identified unequivocably, as
a synonym for "aisle."[36] Even in post-Carolingian times the term is used only sparingly in this sense. It crops up in the
Chronicle of Montecassino, where we are told that Abbot Desiderius raised "the walls of the two aisles [of the new monastery
church he started to rebuild in 1066] up to a height of 15 cubits" (porticus etiam utriusque parietes in altitudine cubitorum
xv subrigens);[37] and it occurs in the Life of St. Dunstan, written by William of Malmsbury about 1126 in a passage, where
the Saint is said to have added alas vel porticus to an older church which he wished to widen.[38] Yet these are relatively
isolated occurrences. The full history of the term would obviously require a more systematical study than is possible in this
context; but it is surely indicative that a quick perusal of the passages referred to in the indices of the source collections
published by Schlosser, Mortet-Deschamps, and Lehmann-Brockhaus, leave little doubt that in an overwhelming majority
of cases porticus is used in its traditional classical sense as an equivalent for "colonnaded gallery" or "porch" and in only
a small number of cases as a designation for "aisle."[39]

The term claustrum occurs twice on the Plan, once in the Monks' Cloister ("quattuor semitae p transuersum claustri",
"four paths crossing the cloister at right angles") and once in the cloister of the Novices ("hoc claustro oblati pulsantibus
adsociantur", "in this cloister the oblates and those who are knocking live together").[40]

The etymological root of claustrum is found in the word claudere, "to shut" or "to lock."[41] In Classical Latin, claustrum
stood for "lock", "bar", or "bolt"; more figuratively for "bounds" and "confines"; in military language for "barricade",
"bulwark", and other defensive enclosures.[42] St. Benedict used the term in the sense of "confines" (claustra monasterii
egredi)[43] —a meaning which it retained for centuries along with all the other connotations it subsequently acquired. St.
Gregory used it in the sense of "prison" (quod etiam retentus corpora ipsa jam carnis claustra contemplatione transebat), or
"confines"[44] , Isidore of Seville more concretely for "folding doors" (valvae).[45]

When precisely in history the term claustrum became the designation for an architectural entity consisting of an open

court surrounded by galleried porches has not yet been clearly established. Paul Meyvaert drew my attention to a passage
in the Life of Bishop Hrodbert of Salzburg (d. ca. 710) where claustrum may have that connotation (although one would
like the phrase to be a little more specific to feel entirely sure of this interpretation): "claustra cum ceteris habitaculis ad
ecclesiasticorum virorum pertinentibus . . . construxit.[46]

In Carolingian sources claustrum is used in a variety of ways: (1) as a designation for the open inner court and its surrounding
porches, (2) as a designation for the porches alone, (3) as a designation for yard and porches, plus the entire
frame of buildings ranged peripherally around them, and (4) as pars pro toto for the whole of the monastic settlement.
On the Plan of St. Gall the cloister walks or cloister porches, as already mentioned, are individually referred to by the
term porticus. The word claustrum appears in titles that are inscribed into the open yard between these porches, and may
be interpreted—depending on where one places the accent—as either referring to the open yard alone (since the paths
that cross each other at right angles are physically confined to that space) or to the open yard plus its enclosing porches
(since the paths emerge from these porches). It is in this latter sense that the word is used in Hildemar's commentary
(ca. 845 A.D.) to the Rule of St. Benedict where it is said, "Dicunt multi, quia claustra monasterii centum pedes debent haberi
in omni parte minus non" ("It is generally held that a cloister should be one hundred feet square, and no less."[47] These
dimensions could not possibly refer to the whole of the claustral complex, since it would be impossible to fit its buildings
into an area a hundred feet square.[48]

Another clear case of the use of claustrum to mean the cloister yard and its surrounding frame of porches is in Hariulf's
Chronicon Centulense (1088 A.D.) in a passage describing the cloister of the monastery built by Abbot Angilbert between
790 and 799. In the same narrative the cloister walks are referred to as tectus:

Claustrum vero monachorum triangulum factum est, videlicet a a sancto Richario usque ad sanctam Mariam, tectus unus; a
sancta Maria usque ad sanctum Benedictum tectus unus; itemque a sancto Benedicto usque ad sanctum Richarium tectus unus.[49]

"The cloister of the monks, however, he built in the form of a triangle, namely from [the church of] St. Richarius to [the
church of] St. Mary one covered walk from [the church of] St. Mary to the [church of] St. Benedict one covered walk,
and from St. Benedict to St. Richarius, likewise, one covered walk."

There are, however, other instances where claustrum stands for the whole of the claustral compound. A phrase in the
Gesta Aldrici (bishop of Le Mans, and written between 840 and 842) provides this example: "Claustrum iuxta ipsam
ecclesiam fecit, id est refectorium, dormitorium, cellarium"[50] ("and next to the church he built a cloister, i.e. the refectory
the dormitory, the cellar"); in the interesting passage in the Life of Eigil, Abbot of Fulda (written between 840 and 842)
we find this usage:

Vocantur ad consilium fratres. Quaesitum est, in quo loco aedificatio claustri congruentius potuisset aptari. Quidem dederunt
consilium, contra partem meridianam basilicae iuxta morem prioris; quidam autem, Romano more contra plagam occidentalem
satius poni, confirmant propter vicinitatem martyris qui in ea basilicae parte quiecit. Quorum concilio adsensum praebuere priores,
concordabant nihilominus et reliqua pars fratrum.[51]

"They called the brothers into council. The question was raised in which place the construction of the new cloister[52]
should be most suitably undertaken. Some advised that it should be placed against the southern part of the church like the
earlier cloister; others, however, claimed that it were more satisfactorily placed in the Roman manner against the western
side of the church, because of the nearness to the martyr who rests in this part of the church. As the priors agreed with
the advice of the latter, the remaining part of the brothers assented as well."

Even in the case of the title that defines the function of the Novitiate, on the Plan of St. Gall (hoc claustro oblati pulsantibus
adsociantur) the word may encompass the whole of the claustral complex, as the association of oblates and pulsantes, to

which this title refers, pertains not only to their open court into which it is inscribed but also to the porches and buildings
ranged around it.

In a few instances the word claustrum may also be used in a more limited sense as a substitute for porticus, "cloister
walk." Paul Meyvaert drew my attention to a passage in the Capitula Qualiter (written after 821 A.D.): "In claustris hora
lectionis summum silentium et summum studium lectionis ab omnibus haberi." Here claustri comes in the middle of a list of
buildings: "in oratorio", "in sacrario", "in hospitali", "in refectorio", "in dormitorio", and therefore must clearly stand
for "cloister walks."[53]

For the use of claustrum as pars pro toto for the entire monastery I refer to the sources quoted sub verbo by DuCange
and by Niermeyer.[54] A typical example is in the Life of Duke William (d. 812), builder of the monastery of St. Guilhem-le-Desert
(Gellone) and protector of Benedict of Aniane:

Metitur etiam totius claustri spatium, domum refectionis atque dormitorium, domum etiam infirmorum et cellam novitiorum,
proaulam hospitum, Xenodochium pauperum, iunctum clibano pistrinum, de latere molendinum.[55]

"He measures, moreover, the space of the entire cloister, the refectory and the dormitory, the infirmary and the novitiate,
the house for distinguished guests, and the hospice for pilgrims and paupers, and the bakery next to the oven, as well
as the nearby mill."

In the fifteenth century, south of the Alps claustrum is used in secular parlance as a synonym for cortile, the galleried, often
double-storied range of porches opening peripherally inward onto the courts of Italian palaces. Wolfgang Lotz brought to
my attention two contracts in which the term appears with this connotation. One contract was made between Pope Paul II
and the three brothers Capranica, laying down the terms for the sale, in 1466, of a house valued at 500 ducats, and defining
this property as "unam domum . . . cum cameris, sala, coquina, reclaustro, porticali coperto columnato ante eam, . . . ."[56]
In the other contract, a donation deed of 1480 concerning the Palazzo Nardini, built for Stephano, Cardinal Nardini
between 1473 and 1478, it is specified that the gift applies to the palace "cum omnibus continentibus aedificiis et apotecis et
cum tribus claustris et porticibus et cum tribus introitibus a tribus viis, et cum omnis aulis, turribus."[57]

The term has thus come full circle: from "lock" or "bolt" to "bulwark", from military to spiritual enclosure, until
finally the image of the ubiquitous monastic cloister furnishes the word for a new concept in secular architecture for which,
because it was a novelty, there was no word to be borrowed from Classical Latin.

For the history of the term dormitorium, we refer to the discussion in the Glossary, below, s.v.

VERSE

With regard to the meters found in the Plan, Charles W. Jones remarks: "The captions include four elegaic distychs[58]
and thirty-five hexameters.[59] Although of scholastic regularity, they are not pedantically so. In the ninth century, as Leonine
rhymed hexameters were gaining favor, the uniform caesura in the third foot became increasingly standardized. But
among the thirty-five hexameters there are three hephthemimeral caesuras, and no Leonine verses.[60] Indeed, there are
touches of liveliness. The concluding dactyls of the line on threshing (frugibus hic instat cunctis labor excutiendis)[61] tend to
match the rhythm of the labor itself. And as Miss Patricia Clark points out, the most artful verses are the two set in the
semi-circular paradises of the church, which she diagrams as follows on the next page:

[ILLUSTRATION]

✫ alliteration of p and s

It is natural to try to explain the presence of verses in this utilitarian Plan as essentially mnemonic; but such an explanation
would be unsatisfactory. No supervising abbot or brother would find any of the common mnemonic aids in these
lines. They are, rather, the product of an artist who is taking joy in his work of art."

We have already drawn attention to the fact that the metric lines are primarily used to designate the general purpose of
a building. In order to make it clear that they define the whole and not part of the building, the author writes metric
verse inscription not into the interior of houses or buildings, but places them outside in a position of prominence (analogous
to chapter headings), parallel to and at a small distance from the entrance walls. There are, however, a few exceptions to
this rule. Some of the smaller guest and service buildings lack these general titles (House of the Physicians, House for
Bloodletting, Gardener's House, House of the Fowlkeepers). Conversely, in a few cases, metric titles are used internally
in places where the signal importance of the object or area they describe calls for special emphasis. All such instances,
except for one (Cross in the Cemetry) occur in the Church, where the inscriptions are associated with primary liturgical
stations (Altar of the Holy Cross, Altar of St. Peter, Altar of St. Paul) or appear in buildings directly connected with
the Church and vital for the regulation of the intercourse of the monastery with the outside world (the three porches of
the western atrium that control entry and exit of the monastic compound).

I can think of only one area in the whole aggregate of textual annotations where one would have wished for more explicit
information. Modern scholarship would have been spared the pains and pleasures of hundreds of pages of controversy,
had the widely spaced title in the longitudinal axis of the Church that reads "From East to West the length is 200 feet"
included in its wording a hint that this was a directive given to alter the original concept, in which the church was intended
to be 300 feet long.[62] The decision to reduce the length of the Church from 300 feet to 200 feet—as the deposition
of the abbot of Fulda shows[63] —cannot have been entirely free from emotional undertones. One senses a reflection of this
in a change of syntax, to which Bischoff has drawn attention: in contradistinction to all of the other legends of the Plan,
which are rendered as straight declarative statements, the majority of the titles stipulating that the Church should not be
built as large as was shown on the Plan, were put into imperative form (metire, moderare, sternito).[64]

VISUAL DISPLAY

In certain places the scribe makes use of a bold capitalis rustica rather than the delicate minuscule in which the majority
of the textual annotations are written. Here again he proceeds with discretion. Only buildings or areas that rank high in
the architectural ecology of the monastery are singled out for this distinction. Capitalized titles occur in ten places; five of
them in the context of the church: the widely spaced axial title that defines what its length should be; a hexameter that
defines the function of the presbytery; two hexameters in the western, and one in the eastern atrium. Outside of the church
capitalis rustica is found in the following places: In the bold meter that explains the function of the road of access to church

and monastery; in the word ECCLESIA written along the axis of the building that contains the chapels for the novices
and the sick; in the word HORTUS inscribed into the outer paths of the Monks' Vegetable Garden (in widely spaced
letters); and in the two hexameters that explain the purpose of the two circular enclosures for the hens and the geese.

The choice of capitals for designating the Monks' Vegetable Garden and the enclosures for hens and geese is perhaps a
little surprising. In the two latter cases one might suspect that the scribe, faced with two magnificently free circular spaces
exuberantly let himself go. But in the case of the Monks' Vegetable Garden the use of capitals could not have been motivated
by the same reason, since the space available there is poorly suited to an inscription in capital letters. Might the
emphasis in both cases have something to do with the important place the produce of the garden and of the chicken yard
held in the monks' diet, and the fact that the flesh of chicken was the only meat of any living creature except fish permitted
on the monks' table?[65]

STYLE OF WRITING AND OTHER PALAEOGRAPHICAL DETAILS

It was to Bernhard Bischoff's credit that he established that the explanatory titles of the Plan were written in the
scriptorium of the monastery of Reichenau[66] —a discovery of crucial importance for the evaluation of the historical context
in which the Plan was copied, and for the identification of the persons who were involved in this task.[67] Bischoff distinguished
two hands: the hand of a young scribe ("main scribe") who wrote the majority of the explanatory titles (265
out of the total of 341, as well as the ten titles written in capital letters) and the hand of an older man who played the
role of supervisor or corrector (writer of the remaining 66 titles). Bischoff defines their respective share in the inscriptions
as follows:

MAIN SCRIBE

He is responsible for the letter of transmission, all of the titles written in capitalis rustica, and the majority of the other
titles. Most of these titles are written in dark brown ink.

The main scribe, Bischoff points out, writes in a crisp and delicate Carolingian minuscule of a kind that was common
among younger Carolingian scribes. His style of writing has a slightly insular touch and discloses clearly that he was not
trained in the Alamannic tradition of St. Gall and of the monastery of Reichenau. Certain peculiarities of his script suggest
that before joining the scriptorium of Reichenau, he spent some time in the abbey of Fulda. The particulars of his writing
Bischoff defines as follows: "He writes vertically and places his letters closely. The letters a and d appear in two variations,
on one hand in their closed Carolingian form (at the end of the word on occasion terminating with a sharp upstroke),
on the other hand open, with two points, more closely corresponding to the insular tradition, although the latter is usually
smaller. A long d alternates with a round d. In the g both arcs are closed; z rises above the letters of intermediate length,
and begins and ends with an almost horizontal stroke. Favorite ligatures are the letter combinations ct, en, er, et, rt; and
l, n, t when followed by an i. His favored abbreviations are: um (a simple r or the ligature -or with cross stroke; -us (dom');
also -ur (recitat') and insular symbols for est and id est.[68]

SECOND SCRIBE

From his hand are the plant designations in the Medicinal Herb Garden and in the Monks' Vegetable Garden, the tree
designations in the Orchard, and all of the inscriptions associated with the altars in the aisles of the church and in the
towers; furthermore, the additions infra and supra tabulatum in the House for Horses and Oxen, the supra camera et
solarium in the Abbot's House, as well as the words pausatio procuratoris (over erasure) in the lodging of the Master of the
Hospice for Pilgrims and Paupers. Most of the titles of the second scribe are written in a light brown ink that did not retain
its original freshness as well as did the darker ink used by the main scribe. Of him, Bischoff says:

"The second scribe, likewise, `writes vertically,' but with relatively short ascenders and a certain trend toward loose but
regular distribution. In the alphabet he employs only the cc-a; the d is always straight. The shaft of the f begins with a
curved upstroke, occasionally even the shaft of the s; g is always open at the bottom. Favorite ligatures are ar (martini),
ect, em, ere, ex, and others; fra (a open), and re. These forms, especially the ligature fra as well as the delicate uniform
ductus of the script are closely related to that late fine style of Alamanic writing, of which the librarian Reginbert of
Reichenau (d. 846) availed himself certainly as one of its last masters"[69]

The dynamics of the interaction of these two scribes, who worked in close cooperation, as well as their relationship to
the high official for whom they performed their task, has been discussed in a previous chapter.[70] For those among our
readers to whom palaeography is a new adventure, we are adding a few remarks about the abbreviations used in the textual
annotations of the Plan.

THE MOST COMMON ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE EXPLANATORY TITLES

[ILLUSTRATION]

The nasal bar is the sign commonly used for letters left out. The bar appears both in the middle of a word and at the end.
Almost always the omitted letters are readily supplied because the words are familiar. Examples: fr̄n̄ītas, ec̄l̄āe, nr̄ī, sc̄ī
sarcofagū, bibliothecā, dormitoriū, for fraternitas, ecclesiae, nostri, sancti, sarcophagus, bibliothecam, and dormitorium. In a few
instances, this sign is omitted through inadvertance. Examples: aucar̄ū, analogīū, sedendū, cū, mandat̄ū, earundē, seruantīū,
for aucarum, analogium, sedendum, cum, mandatum, earundem, seruantium.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A bar through the descender of the letter p stands for per and pre. Examples: semp, sup, pscrutinanda, pparanda, for semper,
super, perscrutinanda and preparanda.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A bar through the ascender of the letter b appears only once on the Plan, viz. in the dedicatory legend, in the name of
Abbot Gozbert: cozƀte for cozberte.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A period after the letter q indicates that the letters ue have been dropped. Examples: utcumq·, atq·, quoq·, for utcumque,
atque, and quoque.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A cross-stroked 1 stands for uel.

[ILLUSTRATION]

The ampersand stands for et. This sign is used both within and at the end of words as well as a symbol for the connecting
word "and". Examples: st&, exi&, cohaer&, col&ur, seru&ur, fa&us for stet, exiet, cohaeret, coletur, seruetur, and
faetus. This abbreviation survives in widespread use. A scattering of examples in current practice is included with the redrawn historic examples illustrated opposite.

[ILLUSTRATION]

Completion of ending orum and (in one case) arum. This sign always occurs after or or ar of this ending. Examples:
infirmorum, ferramentorum, porcariorum, pastorum, pigmentorum, eorum, tuarum for infirmorum, ferramentorum, porcariorum, pastorum,
pigmentorum, eorum, tuarum.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A period placed below a letter when it appears in conjunction with another letter placed above the line indicates that a
correction has been made. Examples: cabalḷͦrum, paupeṛͧm, buḅͧs for caballorum, pauperum, and bubus. Occasionally the
dot below the line is omitted. Examples: euangelacae, domum for euangeliacae and domus.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A period placed on either side of a letter deletes that letter. Example: ċlȯcleam in the Tower of St. Michael. In the House
of the Physicians on the other hand the first l of the misspelled word cubilulum is changed into a c by simply superimposing
the latter on the former.

[ILLUSTRATION]

A crescent-shaped apostrophe is used most frequently after a t, to supply the rest of the passive ending of a verb,
such as ur. Examples: conficiat͗ and triturant͗ for conficiatur and trituratur. It also appears, but more rarely, to show that
the letters us have been left off at the end of a word. Examples: camin͗ and dom͗ for caminus and domus.

[ILLUSTRATION]

Id est, "that is to say". Example: horreum·|·repositio fructuū annaliū for horreum id est repositio fructuum annalium.

[ILLUSTRATION]

This symbol is always est alone. Example: domus communis scolae id÷uacationis for domus communis scolae id est uacationis.

CAPRICIOUS ABBREVIATIONS

There are, lastly, not to be overlooked (as Charles W. Jones reminds me) what Lindsay, in his Notae Latinae, pp. 415ff,
calls "capricious abbreviations", e.g. dom for domus (Gardener's House —), necess for necessarium (Novitiate) and cub
for cubilia (House of Coopers and Wheelwrights —).

[ILLUSTRATION]

[ILLUSTRATION]

AMPERSANDS REDRAWN FROM VARIOUS SOURCES

[ILLUSTRATION]

524. VITA SANCTI BONIFATII. Karlsruhe

BADISCHE LANDESBIBLIOTHEK (Codex Augiensis CXXXVI, fol. 14v)

CAROLINE SCRIPT (9th century)

The full-page illustration reveals the main features of the great script created in the period
of Charlemagne, and further developed during the next two centuries. Unlike the great
formal court bookhands of the time, it is a cursive writing, a running hand conditioned by
economy and speed, with characteristics of both majuscule and minuscule. It is marked by
broad and sweeping lines widely spaced, letter forms clearly defined and articulated, smooth
flowing and finely proportioned to the page. Its slight slope (here, about 5° to 6°) was
perquisite to the urgent quest for speed because, by this device, slight deviations from angle
of tilt are scarcely detectible, as are deviations from the absolute verticality of formal
writing, courtly and elegant. Still, and this is one of its salient features, an air of elegance
dominates a page of finely executed Caroline script that betrays as myth the notion that a
degree of speed is inconsistent, when clarity is fused with a great portion of beauty.

Alcuin of York, in the years 781-790 at the court of Charlemagne, had been appointed
to the enterprise of creating, directing, and disseminating a vast program of education,
writing and learning throughout the empire. In 796 he was awarded the renowned abbey of
St. Martin at Tours. Here as abbot and director of probably the greatest school of its day,
Alcuin had ample time to pursue, till his death in 804, the minuscule and cursive style that
is known as Caroline script.

Later in Italy in the era of "New Learning" the Caroline script had decisive effect on
writing, type design, and printing that lasts to this day. The italic type before the reader's
eye is a direct derivative of that great writing. This legacy from Charlemagne is seen
throughout the world in all countries that employ the roman-based letter. Its place in the
history of civilization and learning is beyond appraisal.

E. B.

*