<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?>
<!DOCTYPE article  PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Archiving and Interchange DTD v1.1 20151215//EN" "https://jats.nlm.nih.gov/archiving/1.1/JATS-archivearticle1.dtd">
<article dtd-version="1.1" article-type="book-review">
    <front>
        <journal-meta>
            <journal-id>TMR</journal-id>
            <journal-title-group>
                <journal-title>The Medieval Review</journal-title>
            </journal-title-group>
            <issn pub-type="epub">1096-746X</issn>
            <publisher>
                <publisher-name>Indiana University</publisher-name>
            </publisher>
        </journal-meta>
        <article-meta>
            <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">21.10.20</article-id>
            <title-group>
                <article-title>21.10.20, Watson, On Hospitals</article-title>
            </title-group>
            <contrib-group>
                <contrib contrib-type="author">
                    <name>
                        <surname>Justin Kirkland</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                    <aff>The University of Iowa</aff>
                    <address>
                        <email>justin-kirkland@uiowa.edu</email>
                    </address>
                </contrib>
            </contrib-group>
            <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2021">
                <year>2021</year>
            </pub-date>
            <product product-type="book">
                <person-group>
                    <name>
                        <surname>Watson, Sethina</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                </person-group>
                <source>On Hospitals: Welfare, Law, and Christianity in Western Europe, 400-1320</source>
                <year iso-8601-date="2020">2020</year>
                <publisher-loc>Oxford, UK</publisher-loc>
                <publisher-name>Oxford University Press (OUP)</publisher-name>
                <page-range>Pp. xvii, 376</page-range>
                <price>$105.00 (hardback)</price>
                <isbn>978-0-19-884753-3 (hardback)</isbn>
            </product>
            <permissions>
                <copyright-statement>Copyright 2021 Trustees of Indiana University. Indiana University provides the information contained in this file for non-commercial, personal, or research use only. All other use, including but not limited to commercial or scholarly reproductions, redistribution, publication or transmission, whether by electronic means or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.</copyright-statement>
            </permissions>
        </article-meta>
    </front>
    <body>
        <p>Hospitals occupied an interesting position in the medieval West. As charitable
            institutions, they were expressions of Christian piety and ideals. Along with churches
            and monasteries, they were places devoted to the performance of Christian acts. Yet,
            while churches and monasteries occupied a clear place in canon law from the early
            centuries of the Church, hospitals did not. According to scholars over the past century,
            medieval canon law declared that hospitals were an ecclesiastical form which fell under
            the authority of bishops, governed akin to monasteries. Sethina Watson seeks to dispel
            this theory by putting forth the provocative thesis that medieval canon law did not
            claim hospitals as part of its jurisdiction. For Watson, “absence of law...is the
            phenomenon that define hospitals in law” (35). This is a study about how lawmakers
            approached an issue without legal inheritance or a place in law: “canon law without the
            canon” (29).</p>
        <p>Watson adopts the medieval definition for “hospitals” or <italic>xenodochia
          </italic>  which covers a broad array of welfare houses, including places for travelers,
            orphans, and the ill. Watson posits that the broad definition of hospitals was no
            accident but evidence that hospitals were not spelled-out in law. She suggests that
            hospitals would have been assigned a specific definition if they had been outlined in
            law, as they were in Byzantine law. This study focuses on local welfare houses, omitting
            the hospital communities of the military and Hospitaller orders because they were
            governed by canon law as religious orders. There was great variation in the operation
            and supervision of individual welfare houses, from individual charters to royal
            authorities. Indeed, one of the defining characteristics of hospitals was just how
            diverse they were in this regard.</p>
        <p>Watson begins by dispelling notions that the major general councils of the twelfth and
            thirteenth centuries (i.e., the Lateran councils) created any legislation dealing with
            hospitals. She examines Lateran III and Lateran II to show that hospitals were not
            mentioned by either of these councils. Lateran IV did briefly mentioned hospitals in
            passing: c. 62 urged Christians to help the needy in hospitals. But it did not really
            provide a place for hospitals in law. Watson interprets the silence on hospitals in the
            councils as intentional. She suggests lawmakers recognized that hospitals outside the
            scope of canon law. </p>
        <p>Turning from general Church councils in the High Middle Ages to councils in early
            medieval Francia, Watson notes that early medieval councils were eager to address
            hospitals. Councils used the terms <italic>hospitales</italic> and
                <italic>xenodochia</italic> interchangeably, though <italic>xendochia</italic>
            remained the preferred term until the twelfth century. She focuses on the councils of
            Orleans in 549 and Aachen in 816 because previous studies considered them to be the
            basis of Western law on hospitals. The council of Orleans forbade bishops from removing
            property of the royal hospital at Lyons and required priests to preserve its
            arrangements while the council of Aachen required dignitaries of major churches build a
            hospital for the poor and travelers. Watson argues that the council of Orleans only
            sought to legislate on the royal hospital at Lyons and that the council of Aachen only
            addressed the hospitals of clerics and nuns. A vast number of hospitals lay outside of
            the scope of these councils. Regardless of their intentions, neither council established
            law that defined hospitals. </p>
        <p>Carolingian Lombardy produced more legislation dealing with hospitals than Francia,
            classifying them as Christian foundations. Capitularies were concerned with preserving
            the resources of hospitals, emphasizing good management and calling for the restoration
            of those that had fallen into ruin. The laws defined<italic> xendochia</italic> by its
            administration of resources and its charitable objectives. Lombard lawmakers seemingly
            only envisioned hospitals as creations of a founder/testator. The Lombard councils
            turned to testamentary law as a legal basis to protect hospitals, focusing on ensuring
            that the donor’s wishes were fulfilled in perpetuity. That meant property could not be
            alienated by administrators. When an administrator of a hospital failed in their duties,
            external authorities--such as royal agents or church dignitaries--could intervene. As
            such, hospitals were not given their own place in law, but rather treated as inheritable
            property. </p>
        <p>Watson then argues that the legal origins of hospitals in the West are distinct from that
            of the East, taking aim at models which make a connection between the <italic>Corpus
                Iuris Civilis</italic> and Western hospital laws. The <italic>Corpus Iuris
                Civilis</italic> considered hospitals to be a matter of public or divine law because
            donors were (ostensibly) compelled by pious motives befitting Christians. It extended
            many of the protections enjoyed by churches to welfare houses and even differentiated
            between different types of welfare houses. However, the <italic>Corpus Iuris
                Civilis</italic> was almost unknown in the West from the sixth to the twelfth
            centuries. As a result, the West diverged. Watson shows that the only Western source in
            the Early Middle Ages which incorporated hospital laws from the <italic>Corpus Iuris
                Civilis</italic>--Abbot Ansegis’s <italic>Collectio capitularum</italic>--had no
            effect on Frankish law. Hospitals in the West did not receive substantial,
            individualized attention in the law. Rather, testamentary law subsumed them. In the
            West, the right of hospitals to endure was related to the donor’s right to assign
            property for charitable purposes. Seen from the view of testamentary law, defining
            different types of welfare houses was unimportant because what really mattered was the
            act of endowment and ensuring the donor’s wishes were carried out. In Watson’s view,
            Eastern and Western laws concerning hospitals are fundamentally different. </p>
        <p>Turning back to the Carolingian era, Watson states that bishops in the eighth and ninth
            centuries neither inherited nor claimed that they had jurisdiction over hospitals
            because of their office. Nevertheless, they could gain jurisdiction over an individual
            hospital through various means, such as hospitals directly entrusted to the care of the
            bishop or hospitals held by monasteries since bishops were legally charged with
            supervising the monasteries in their diocese. Because bishops could not claim general
            jurisdiction over hospitals, Watson argues that councils and synods sought to “police”
            those who held the rights over hospitals rather than the hospitals themselves. The
            councils of Olona in 825 and Rome in 826 ordered bishops to admonish overseers of
            hospitals who failed to uphold the donor’s arrangements and demand restitution. Councils
            in Western Francia treated hospitals differently. The council of Meaux-Paris in 845/6
            encouraged royal action to protect hospitals and discussed the abuse of hospitals in
            dramatic terms. Violators were called “murderers of the poor” and threatened with
            anathema. The council of Quierzy in 858 was the closest to claim episcopal jurisdiction
            over hospitals. The king was to order rectors of <italic>xenodochia</italic> to submit
            to their bishop and carry out their duties with his counsel. However, the council’s law
            regarding hospitals does not seem to have garnered much interest from other councils or
            collectors of law. </p>
        <p>The twelfth and thirteenth centuries were an important time in the history of canon law,
            and for hospitals. Though Gratian’s <italic>Decretum</italic> referenced hospitals in
            seven chapters, it still did not give welfare houses a place in canon law. Watson argues
            that the two great radical thinkers of hospital law were Bernard of Pavia and Urban III.
            Bernard of Pavia provoked discussion amongst canonists when he defined hospitals as
            religious houses--and therefore under episcopal jurisdiction like monasteries and
            churches--since they were created by religious motives. Though his opinion was not
            accepted by other canonists, it spurred the rediscovery of Alexander III’s statement
                <italic>Si hospitale</italic>which declared that hospitals could be established
            without the approval of the bishop. Urban III’s decretal <italic>Ad Haec</italic> also
            sought to clarify the status of hospitals as ecclesiastical sites by defining them as
            material objects as opposed to sacred places. It said that those hospitals confirmed by
            a bishop must be held in perpetuity for their charitable purposes. Both ideas were
            included in the <italic>Decretals of Gregory IX</italic>. </p>
        <p>Watson then reassesses the decrees of Paris (1213) and Rouen (1214) on hospitals. Though
            traditionally seen as the beginning of the application of written law to hospitals,
            Watson disagrees. The decrees promulgated by the council of Paris (the council of Rouen
            reiterated Paris’s precepts) argued that hospitals with adequate resources to support a
            common life should adopt a rule and live as religious. Traditionally historians have
            viewed Robert de Courson as the force behind this demand. Watson instead suggests
            Jacques de Vitry, Jean de Nivelles, and/or Jean de Liroux were the more likely sources
            because they were patrons of the early beguine movement, a movement which was associated
            with hospitals. She also suggests that hospital reform arose in Flanders and Brabant
            around 1200. Ultimately, the papal curia seems to have rejected the decrees advanced by
            Paris and Rouen because it did not fit with the two basic tenets concerning hospitals in
            canon law:<italic>Si hospitale</italic> and <italic>Ad haec</italic>.</p>
        <p>Watson lastly discusses the decree <italic>Quia contingit</italic> (1317) created by the
            Council of Vienne. <italic>Quia contingit</italic> has been seen as the “Magna Carta of
            hospitals” and Watson also sees it as important. It stated that the patrons of hospitals
            which had fallen into ruin had a duty to reform their hospitals. Bishops or other local
            authorities were tasked with compelling the rectors of hospitals to fulfill their
            duties. It gave bishops the authority to intrude into the affairs of a neglected
            hospital. Yet it still acknowledged that hospitals did not fundamentally belong to the
            Church and that they existed under a variety of arrangements. <italic>Quia contingit
           </italic> became canon law’s defining statement on hospitals.</p>
        <p>The appendix includes an edition of Alexander III’s lost decretal <italic>Ad Petitionem
           </italic> and Robert de Courson’s hospital decrees from 1213. Fragments of <italic>Ad
                Petitionem</italic> have already been published by Jaffé in <italic>Regesta
                pontifcum romanum</italic>. Watson’s edition is based on the <italic>Collectio
                Brugensis</italic> and supplemented by the <italic>Collectio Wigorniensis</italic>,
                <italic>Collectio Cheltenhamensis</italic>, and <italic>Appendix concilii
                Lateranensis</italic>. Watson’s editions of de Courson’s decrees from Paris and
            Rouen are based upon manuscripts, and she also includes English translations. These
            editions are useful for scholars interested in delving deeper into the texts. Watson
            must be commended for making texts in manuscripts available to a wider audience. </p>
        <p>Watson is most effective at discussing individual sources, especially those concerning
            capitula and individual councils. For example, her discussion of the transmission of the
            decretal <italic>Ad Petitionem</italic> is wonderfully researched and shows just how
            much thought she has given to individual sources. She also suggests a new possible date
            for the council of Rheims in 1213 based on extensive and interesting research. Moreover,
            she continually provides new insights and interpretations of these sources which add
            new, interesting dimensions. </p>
        <p>Seeking to avoid any idea of developmental teleology, Watson arranges the chapters
            analytically instead of chronologically. This results in a somewhat disjointed approach,
            especially in Part Two, where the Merovingians and Carolingians are discussed before a
            chapter on Byzantine and Roman law. Though there are some reasons for such an approach,
            it is an organizational technique which interrupts the flow of Watson’s argument.
            Indeed, a more chronological organization might have strengthened Watson’s argument by
            showing how hospitals never had a firm legal basis in Western Roman law, as well as how
            her argument fits into the historiography. It might also help readers because--for
            better or worse--readers are used to seeing a chronological organization in historical
            studies. </p>
        <p>Watson is largely successful in arguing that hospitals were outside of canon law
            jurisdiction. Her thesis is quite compelling and seems more convincing than other
            theories. Yet one is still left with doubts on whether this constitutes an “absence of
            law” (35). Hospitals may not have received as much attention in law as churches or
            monasteries, yet councils did propagate legislation concerning them. Multiple councils
            treated hospitals as a part of testamentary law. Perhaps it is more a matter of how
            “law” is defined. Nevertheless, Watson does make an interesting and compelling argument
            for rethinking the traditional narratives of medieval hospitals in the medieval
            West.</p>
    </body>
</article>