Bonifacio Bembo, Visconti-Sforza Tarot, c. 1450 Pierpont Morgan Library, New York

Petre, Pater Patrum, Papissae Prodito Partum PPPPPP PPPPPP

La Papessa Rosenwald Sheet (uncut sheet of cards) late 15th - early 16th century National Gallery of Art, Washington

IN ONE OF THE EARLIEST LISTS Of triumph cards, the c. 1500 “Steele Sermon”, the anonymous author calls triumph number 4 “La Papessa.” While we do not know for certain which set of triumphs the author of the Sermon was looking at when he made his list, the titles match those known from the earliest titles on printed cards, if not always the ordering, of the surviving early sheets of woodcut prints of tarocchi. Given this and the fact that this is the iconographic form she takes in all the styles of tarocchi that possess La Papessa, we may presume that his Papessa looked like one of these. The earliest account of Papessa Iohanna is from around 1255, when the Dominican Jean de Mailly mentioned her story in his Chronicle. The story was repeated by another Dominican, Etienne de Bourbon (died 1261). Both authors place the story around 1100. According to Alain Boureau, author of La Papesse Jeanne (Paris, Aubier 1988) the story began as a folktale that spread with Dominican writings. pppppp pppppp

But it was the chronicle of another Dominican writer, Martin Oppaviensis (“the Pole”, died 1278), which gave what became the canonical form of the legend. In his Chronicon Pontificum et Imperatorum the events are placed in the 9th century, precisely between 855-857, immediately after the papacy of Leo IV. In this form the legend attained a great deal of currency, and according to the exhaustive study of Ignaz Doellinger Die Papstfabeln des Mittelalters (Munich 1863), was accepted in the Liber Pontificalis (Official list of Popes), throughout the 14th century. However, the same author cautions that what seem to be the earliest manuscripts of Martin Oppaviensis’ chronicle do not contain the legend, which might therefore be the work of a later copyist.

"Peter, Father of Fathers, Publish the Parturition of the Papess!" Papessa Giovanna Early 15th century Giovanni Boccaccio (c. 1313-1375) De Mulieribus Claris

La Papessa Giovanna leftearly 15th century, right printed edition, 1487 De Mulieribus Claris Giovanni Boccaccio(1313-1375)

Some of the earliest depictions of Pope Joan are from Giovanni Boccaccio (1313-1375), De Mulieribus Claris “Famous Women”, 1362. The woodcuts from the earliest printed edition, 1487, are based fairly closely on manuscript illuminations. These show the moment when the Pope is discovered to be a woman, when, wearing the full insignia of the Papal office, she gives birth to a child. The account of Papessa Giovanna could have been known to the circle of Francesco Sforza, as the library at Pavia possessed both Oppaviensis’ Chronicon and Boccaccio’s De Mulieribus Claris. However, it is clear that the figure in the Visconti-Sforza and Fournier tarocchi does not derive directly from the illustrations of the latter, at least.

Saint Sophia and her three daughters c.1430 Slovakian master, raredos of the Altar of Partizanskka Bratislava, National Gallery

But nearly contemporary portrayals of Papessa Giovanna exist which differ considerably from these. One illustration of the Papessa Giovanna, from Germany, has her looking very much like a Madonna, holding her baby in her arms. This Papessa also resembles portraits of Saint Sophia, a martyr from the 3rd century who wears the supreme, triple crown, and who is always accompanied by her daughters, the three theological virtues Faith, Hope and Charity. The artist of the Popess makes clear that this is neither the Virgin Mary nor a Saint, however – neither she nor the child have halos. pppppp pppppp pppppp

La Papessa Giovanna woodcut of Michael Wolgemuth Liber Chronicarum of H. Schedel Nuremburg, 1493

La Papessa Giovanna woodcut De Plurimis Claris Sceletisque Mulieribus Jacobus Philippus Forestus Ferrara, 1497

Another style of portrait, such as a woodcut illustration printed in Ferrara, shows Papessa Giovanna seated alone on the papal chair, neither being discovered nor with a child. This style of portrait bears the closest similarity to both the printed tarot sheets and the two surviving painted cards. On the basis of this similarity, it seems reasonable to hold, and some scholars take for granted, that the untitled painted cards are also representations of Papessa Giovanna, although these painted cards are presumed to be several decades earlier than the woodcuts (i.e. the cover of Boureau’s book The Myth of Pope Joan, showing the Visconti-Sforza Papessa). pppppp pppppp pppppp pppppp pppppp

While the argument that the card shows Pope Joan is attractive, a closer look reveals difficulties with such a facile identification. The primary objection remains with the absence of a baby in the tarot depiction. In rejecting an outright identification of the card with Pope Joan, several scholars have contended that the card shows a different Papessa, this one of indubitable, although obscure, historicity. Gertrude Moakley, writing in 1966, made the novel suggestion that the card may represent Manfreda da Pirovano, a nun who was the spiritual leader of a small group who believed in the divinity of Saint Guglielma, a nun of the same convent who had died in 1282. The group believed that Guglielma was an incarnation of the Holy Spirit, and would return. Their hierarchy was based on that of the Roman Church, except that they ordained women to the priesthood, and they had elected Manfreda Papessa. When the sect was discovered, in the process of investigating Guglielma’s miracles in preparation for her canonization, Manfreda and the sect’s other leaders were tried and she was burned at the stake in 1300. Because she was Matteo Visconti’s cousin, and because some of the most powerful members of the Visconti family were undoubtedly followers of Manfreda, it seems plausible that the family could have preserved the memory of these events, and ended up portraying her as Papessa in the style of deck associated with the Visconti family. Moreover, Guglielma’s cult was apparently very popular in Milan, where she was frequently found portrayed in art (according to Barbara Newman in WomanSpirit, Woman Pope). Moakley also claimed to have identified the particular habit of the figure in the card, as that of the Umiliati order. Indeed the habit of the order, like that of mendicant Franciscans, appears to have been of the simplest fabric - undyed wool (lana non colorata). As the habit of the Umiliati is surely portrayed somewhere, it must be easy to confirm this hypothesis. pppppp pppppp pppppp pppppp

La Papessa Tarot Card Fournier Museum Vitoria, Spain

Doellinger’s study of all the extant sources is still standard. For modern readers it has been superceded by Alain Boureau, La Papesse Jeanne, published in English as The Myth of Pope Joan (trans. Lydia G. Cochrane, University of Chicago Press, 2001). In 1999, Peter Stanford published The Legend of Pope Joan, which argues in favour of her existence. However, the work has convinced few scholars, despite being a valuable compendium of sources. > For Boureau’s work, here is an excerpt from the review by Sandra Miesel, http://www.crisismagazine.com/november2001/book2.htm Boureau’s pace quickens when Joan finally comes on stage. He quotes essential texts from the first mention of Joan in a Metz chronicle of 1255. He traces how the story spread in histories and sermon exempla, initially by way of the Dominican Order. Boureau asks how medieval Catholics "believed" in Joan and shows how energetically they used her story in their controversies. Joan served apocalyptic Joachimites expecting a new age of the Holy Spirit, Spiritual Franciscans denouncing pseudo-popes, rival claimants to the Holy See during the Great Western Schism, and proto-Protestants Ockham and Wycliffe impugning papal authority and the efficacy of the sacraments. Joan even found her way into the Tarot as the Popess trump, thanks to the example of the Gugliemites, an Italian sect suppressed in 1300 that worshiped a female incarnation of the Holy Spirit led by a popess and cardinalettes. Boureau compares Joan with seeress and witch views of Joan of Arc and with prophetic women including the mythical sibyls of antiquity and medieval Hildegard of Bingen. He notes Joan’s entrance into literature with Boccaccio’s De Mulieribus Claris (1362) and Fraw Jutta (1480), the first tragic drama in German. But the Protestant Reformation made Joan intolerable among Catholics. The Great Whore of Babylon wearing a papal tiara was one of the milder references to Joan in Lutheran propaganda, where she was used to depict Rome as a place of corruption and deviance. Early Calvinists were apparently too high-minded to bother with Joan. Catholics countered in 1562 with the first systematic historical attack on the myth, written by the Augustinian Onoforio Panvinio. Panvinio argued that there was no trace of Joan in contemporary records and no interval to allow her reign. An even more magisterial refutation by the excommunicated Catholic scholar Ignaz von Döllinger in 1863 should have put the matter beyond dispute for any reasonable person, although of course this has not been the case.