THE LIBRARY OF IBERIAN RESOURCES ONLINE
Emperor of Culture
Robert I. Burns, S.J.

Chapter Seven
Alfonso's Scriptorium and Chancery:
Role of the Prologue in Bonding the Translatio Studii to the Translatio Potestatis
Anthony J. Cárdenas

[90] The depiction of Alfonso X as a bumbling astrologer king who lost his throne because of his preoccupation with the stars is a fabrication that, while cleverly connecting Alfonso's cultural zenith with his political nadir, is more harmful than helpful inasmuch as it deviates from an accurate presentation of historical fact. This study examines the hitherto unexplored relatedness of two aspects of this nadir and zenith - namely, the connection between Alfonso's chancery, that writing chamber from which issued his statute law, and his royal scriptorium, that writing chamber from which issued his cultural legacy, his various treatises on astronomy-astrology, history, and law, his Cantigas de Santa Maria, and his treatise on board games. Rather than two chambers, what actually may have existed was a dual chamber or possibly, and more simply, a single chamber.





 
The Alfonsine prologue -- the prologues found in his royal scriptorium treatises produced under his aegis and surviving today in several extant royal scriptorium codices -- offers an important bit of evidence on how Alfonso viewed his work. As Margo Ynes Corona de Ley has observed, "The prologue can be seen as the point of contact of the author, the text, and the audience." [1] Although the question of audience is important too and is discussed later, the first two elements of this triad, showing the relationship between the author Alfonso and his text, form the special interest of this study. An examination of this author/text duality, combined with information from recent studies treating his historical texts (as well as [91] from another study in which I establish a nexus between the royal scriptorium prologue and a foral or local statute document known as the privilegio rodado), permit observations that tie the studies together. These observations also suggest motives for Alfonso's more than thirty years of sustained scholarship, which produced what might be viewed as his cultural journey toward empire.
The question of authorship in Alfonsine royal scriptorium redactions has a long history. Despite the more than seventy years since Antonio Solalinde's seminal article on Alfonsine intervention, [2] however, we are far from a comprehensive picture regarding the monarch's personal intervention as author. This assessment does not belittle what has been done, but rather signals the great amount remaining to be done before we have a complete understanding of Alfonso's specific role in the production of his works. Solalinde's findings merit repetition. The first passage he cites hails from the General estoria and explains how Alfonsoviewed regal authorship:
Regarding the redaction of these words, you have heard in the beginning of this chapter how Our Lord stated that he would write them; and here he states in the twenty-fourth chapter of Exodus that he ordered Moses to write them; and you also will have heard in the book called Deuteronomy . . . that says that Our Lord himself wrote them. And it seems that these statements are contradictory. Concerning this contradiction Master Peter speaks and explains thus: [92] he says that all is correct, and that we can understand and say that Our Lord composed the content of the commandments, and that he had authorship and credit therefrom, because he ordered them to be written, although Moses wrote them; thus we have said many times: a, king makes [writes] a book, not because be wrote it with his own hands, but because he composes its arguments, and emends them, and makes them uniform, and rectifies them, and shows the way they should be done, and thus he whom he [the king] orders writes them, but we say for this reason that the king writes the book. Also, when we say the king makes a palace or some work, this is not said because he himself makes it with his hands, rather because he ordered it made and provided the things necessary for it. And he who does this, that person receives credit for doing the work; and we thus, I see, are accustomed to speak. [3]
Alfonso not only presents here his view on regal authorship but also provides an example of the kind of revelatory gloss lurking within all of his prose.
Francisco Rico notes in the last nine words a contrast between the use of the regal first-person plural "we" (nos) and the first-person singular of the verb "I see" (veo) and suggests that this may be a specific example of Alfonsine dictation. [4] I would add as more evidence of direct Alfonsine intervention a passage, one of several possible, from the Libro del saber de astrologia, or LSA, which I am currently editing. Although this passage is less remarkable because it lacks the contrasting features as seen above, it nevertheless shows that Alfonso goes beyond his source, even in his scientific treatises, and adds a very personal element in these nonliterary works. The treatise on the construction of the Açafeha in the LSA compendium offers the following:
We the king, the aforesaid don Alfonso, seeing the usefulness of his saphea which is generally for all latitudes, and how this instrument is very complete and perfect, and how it is difficult to calibrate, and that many men could not fully understand the manner in which it is made according to the words that the sage who composed it spoke, we ordered it to be illustrated in this book. And we ordered that all those circles called almadarat be done in black ink . . . And also so that these circles may be better recognized and more distinct from the others, we had the space between them tinted in saffron. And we also ordered the circles that are called almamarrat in Arabic, that go from one terrestrial pole to the other, [done] in vermilion, and the circles of longitude that are parallel to the zodiac and in a direct line with it, and also the circles of the latitudes that go from one pole of the signs to the other. And these two kinds of circles are to the zodiac as the other two are to the equator. And these four kinds are all the circles drawn on the surface of the lamina. And because there are many and they resemble one another, we distinguished them with different colors as stated. [5]
[93] Solalinde takes his second passage, one long known, concerning Alfonso's editorial intervention, from the same LSA. The passage does not survive in its royal scriptorium form since that portion of the LSA codex has been lost. Its actual existence, however, is attested by its survival in three variant copies. Solalinde cites the following passage from the first edition:
And afterward the above-mentioned king rectified it and had it fixed. And he removed the words he thought were superfluous and duplicated and that were not in true Castilian [castellano drecho]. And he put those others which he thought completed the work. And as for the language, he himself corrected it. [6]
 
This evidence and that previously cited suffice to show the accuracy of Evelyn Procter's summary regarding Alfonso's role as author:
If taken together, the prologues of all these astronomical and astrological works show that Alfonso was more than a mere patron: that he sought for books, initiated projects, allotted work among his collaborators, gave them their instructions, and to some extent revised their work; finally he was a scholar who could appreciate the results of their labours. [7]
This stance is distinct from and much more acceptable than George McSpadden's unsubstantiated claim that Alfonso was author of all his prologues, [8] or George Sarton's pronouncement, also unsubstantiated, that Alfonso was author of ten prologues. [9] Even Alberto Porquera Mayo's hypothesis that "Alfonso X's prologues are probably his own work" [10] is unacceptable to the extent that it stresses probability.
The most thorough treatment of the Alfonsine prologue occurs in the study cited above by De Ley, "The Prologue in Castilian Literature between 1200 and 1400," which asserts nothing concerning Alfonso's role as author of the prologue. For our concerns, it is more important that her examinations of topics, techniques, and terms reveal little uniformity among the various prologues. Because of the non-belletristic nature of the Alfonsine treatises, creative variety is not an expected quality as it might be in works of a more literary nature. The lack of uniformity, thus, suggests absence of a fixed plan for his prologue, and possibly that more than one author composed them. One prologue constant from De Ley's point of view is Alfonso's preoccupation with the transfer of learning (translatio studii): "Insistence on this is so frequent and so emphasized in his prologues that it amounts to an obsession on his part." [11] This transfer, that is, the handing down or the preservation of knowledge, is important, for the motive behind it is consistent with nearly all aspects of the literary activity espoused by the king.
[94] Antonio Ballesteros Beretta muses over the plausibility of the idea that Alfonso developed a bent for the Galician lyric, the medium of his profane and Marian poems, as a youth raised in northwestern Spain. [12] Similarly, Alfonso's infatuation with knowledge and letters must have begun at an early age under the guidance of the best tutors, as John Keller and E. N. van Kleffens claim. [13] Charles Faulhaber indicates that the Epistolarium, an cars dictaminis or rules of letter-writing by Ponce of Provence, points toward the possibility that "Alfonso himself studied dictamen  with one of the best-known teachers of that art." [14] Even Alfonso's claim that he finished the Setenario at his saintly father's request is in keeping with what must have been his father's interest in his preparation. [15] Van Kleffens even claims that one of Alfonso's tutors was the Bologna-trained jurisconsult Jacobo de la Junta, ultimately known as Jacobo de las Leyes, [16] though the information provided by Jean Roudil would appear to make this unlikely. [17]
 
Alfonso's own education may - and I stress that I am conjecturing here- be reflected in his Siete partidas. The second partida states that kings and queens should teach their royal offspring, besides the decorum detailed in previous laws, other things:
and this is reading and writing, which is very advantageous to the one who knows how, for learning more easily the things he wants to know, and to better safeguard his secrets. [18]
Another passage explains why a king should be eager to know how to read and learn everything possible:
The king should be eager to learn the arts because by them he will understand the basis of things and will better know how to work with them, and also by knowing how to read he will better know how to guard his secrets and be lord of them, which in any other manner he would not be able to do well, because by the inability to know these things he would necessarily have to involve another who knows how. And it could come to pass to him what King Solomon said, that he who places his secret in another's power makes himself that person's slave; and he who knows how to keep it to himself is lord of his heart, which is very appropriate for a king. [19]
These laws certainly could explain in part Alfonso's interest in knowledge, and might well mirror his own youthful experiences. As such, they reflect a part of the influence that Fernando III had on his son.

This paternal influence manifests itself in other areas and is worth [95] noting because it provides valuable insights for the raison d'être of Alfonso's royal scriptorium legacy. To begin with, Alfonso inherited not only his father's chancery but also the use of the vernacular in chancery documents. Although Spanish became the norm in Alfonsine documents, [20] Fernando had used Spanish in documents as early as 1 January 1214, [21] more than two years before Alfonso was born. When Alfonso ascended the throne, his chancery was essentially that of his father. Van Kleffens writes:

The labours, in the field of law, of Kings Ferdinand the Saint and Alfonso X his son, have to be seen as a continuous creative process, borne along by that single preoccupation these monarchs shared: to bring about more legal unity and uniformity, and to improve the law generally. [22]
If they shared a common goal, it was a goal initiated by Fernando III and inherited, albeit perhaps expanded, by his firstborn.

The benefit that educated men provide the commonwealth is no secret, and thus, in a charter dated 6 April 1243, Fernando III wrote: "Because I understand that it is to the benefit of my kingdom and of my land, I grant and order that there be schools in Salamanca." [23] Eleven years later, in a charter dated 8 May 1254, Alfonso continues this favor:

And with the great desire that I have that the university [studium] be more advanced and improved, I heeded those things they asked of me; and I took my counsel and my accord about those things with the bishops and archdeacons and with other good clergy who were with me; and having that counsel that understood the benefit and honor to me and to my kingdoms and to the scholars and to all the land, I followed it and ordered it and held it as good. [24]
The founding of an institution of higher learning (studium) in Salamanca promotes Fernando's "benefit of my kingdom and of my land," whereas favoring the same studium becomes Alfonso's "benefit and honor to me and to my kingdoms." I discuss elsewhere other echoes found between Fernando's 1243 charter and Alfonso's. [25] Not only did Fernando's influence go from charter to charter, however; since those charters constitute a source for the Siete partidas, that influence extended directly into Alfonso's lex legum, and specifically into his so-called Educational Code, [26] as partida II, title 31, laws I-II. [27]
 
Law II of that title holds particular interest for this discussion of Alfonso's attitude toward education, for in it he provides for a stationer (stationarius), so that the university might be complete. The stationer's main responsibility was to provide good, true, and legible books so that [96] students could copy from them, emend the ones they had, and so on. The rector of the university was responsible for choosing a qualified stationer and for insuring that the texts the stationer provided met the stated criteria-good, true, and legible. The rector, in consultation with the university people (the masters not the students), [28] set the price.
 
The great detail given in the matter of the stationer points to what had to be a major problem for any medieval university, the accessibility of texts. And it raises the question why Alfonso, given his interest in education, did not confront the problem of texts directly. He had at his disposal, in the scholars assembled for his scriptorium, the wherewithal to produce "good, true, and legible" texts for the university. Valeria Pizzorusso has edited, for example, an An dictandi for rhetoric, which Alfonsohad apparently commissioned and destined for use at the university at Salamanca. [29] Procter adds the following information:
The Castilian translations of the Quadripartitum and of the compendium of Ibn-al-Haitam have perished, but are known from Latin translations made from the Castilian, and the Libro de los juicios de las estrellas was also twice translated into Latin by Alfonso's command under the tide Liber magnus et completus de iudiciis astrologiae. [30]
Were the texts to which Procter refers translated for the university as well? Alfonso, it appears, could have supplied it with official texts, but chose not to when he opted for use of the vernacular in his royal scriptorium texts.
 
Did he choose the vernacular as his medium, as Juan Gil de Zamora states, "so that all could very clearly observe, and in every way understand, things which appear even to the erudite [only] under the embellishments of the Latin language and in a closed and recondite form"? [31] Procter, from whom I cite, affirms that Latin was not at a low level, but rather:
It is probable, indeed, that Alfonso aimed at reaching a wider audience, composed of laymen as well as clerics, than was possible through the medium of a classical language, but the use of the vernacular seems also to have had behind it national pride and a definite element of propaganda. [32]
I leave Alfonso's reasons for using the vernacular to those who care to speculate. It is not unlikely, however, that the example set in his father's chancery initiated the momentum toward the vernacular. As Julio González has noted:
By the time Fernando III began to reign, the vernacular was vigorously on its way; it appeared with growing frequency and more or less integrity in private [97] documents and was appearing in royal commands; during his [Fernando Ill's] period, it would end up by dominating in the last decade. [33]
Use of the vernacular provides a link not only between Fernando's and Alfonso's chanceries, but also between Alfonso's chancery and scriptorium.
 
Another bond between father's and son's chanceries, again extending to Alfonso's chancery and scriptorium, is a type of foral document known as the privilegio rodado. This document corresponds to the French diplome [34] and is characterized by its "principal sign of validation . . . the royal signum-the rueda or signo rodado" [35] namely the large polychrome wheel dominating usually the interior third of its lower half and "incorporating the king's signum and heraldic devices in a blaze of color." [36] Procter describes the wheel in more detail; she makes clear that its use in Castilian and Leonese chanceries predated Alfonso X by nearly a century, and that those chanceries probably based their ruedaon the papal rota. [37] Indeed, Julio González presents in his "evolution of the signo rodado" [38] four samples of Fernando's signum from 7 November 1217 to 30 November 1248. His last sample reveals the greatest similarity to the Alfonsine wheel as described by Procter and seen, for example, in the fifth and eighteenth plates at the end of allesteros Beretta's monumental  Alfonso X el Sabio. [39]  The significance of the wheeled charter is that Alfonsowas not merely content to continue its use in his chancery; instead, he incorporated its formula into the prologue of his royal scriptorium texts.
 
Procter has examined the formula in such a privilege in light of its description in the Siete partidas (III.18.2), and has listed constituent elements of the formula and frequency of occurrence. [40] I divide these formulaic elements into the following twelve components:
 
1. Invocation (a short phrase, such as In dei nomine) or a chrismon (both unusual).
2. Preamble (exceptional).
3. Formula of Notification (primarily "let it be known" [conoscida cosa sea] until 1260 and predominantly "let all... know" [sepan cuantos] afterward).
4. Royal Superscription consisting of (a) a personal pronoun (singular until 1258 and plural afterward), (b) Alfonso's name and title, (c) a listing of his dominions, and (d) the statement that he reigns with his wife and children.
5. Prefatory Statement to the Seal.
6. Date and Place with (a) place, (b) day of the month, (c) year (according to the Spanish era), and frequently (d) day of the week. For (e) see 8.
[98]7. Indication that the document was drawn up at the king's Command, which may be added to the date or to the redactor's Subscription.
8. Subscription of the redactor, after which we usually find the (6e) regnal Year.
9. Signal events (seldom found). [41]
10. Corroboration formula following the date, consisting of (a) the king's name, (b) mention of his wife and children, and (c) a list of dominions (not identical to that of the Superscription).
11. Royal Signum.
12. List of Cosigners, that is, confirmantes (a pro forma requirement, in that the persons named were not necessarily present or witnesses).
Reproducing the corresponding portion of a charter dated at Burgos, 28 December 1254, not only illustrates Procter's analysis but also shows the theoretical nature of the Siete partidas, [42] in that the charter does not conform exactly to the prescribed formula from partida III.18.2:
[3. Notification] Let it be known to all men who see this letter [4. royal Superscription] that [a. personal pronoun] we [b. name and tide] Don Alfonso by the grace of God king [c. dominions] of Castile, León, Toledo, Galicia, Seville, Córdoba, Murcia, Jaén, and lord of all Andalusia [d. reigning with wife and children] together with the queen Doña Violante my wife, and with my daughters the princess Doña Berenguela and princess Doña Beatriz . . . [corpus] ... [6. Place and Date] Charter done [a. place] in Burgos [7. at king's Command] by order of the king, [6b. day of the month] the twenty-eighth day into the month of December [6c. the year according to the Spanish era] in the era 1292. [10. Corroboration] and I the aforesaid [a. king's name] king Don Alfonso [b. mention of wife and children] reigning together with the queen Doña Violante my wife, and with my daughters the princess Doña Berenguela and the princess Doña Beatriz [c. dominions] in Castile, Toledo, León, Galicia, Seville, Córdoba, Murcia, Jaén, Baeza, Badajoz, and in the Algarve, grant this privilege and confirm it and order that it prevail - [9. Signal event] [in] the year when Don Edward the first son and heir of King Henry of England received knighthood in Burgos from King Don Alfonsothe aforesaid . . . [12. list of Cosigners follows] ... [8. Subscription of redactor] I, Juan Pérez of Cuenca, wrote it, [6e. regnal year] the third year that the king reigned. [43]
Items lacking in this charter are the Invocation (No. 1) and the Preamble (No. 2) which, as noted, were usually absent; the Prefatory Statement to the Seal (No. 5); the day of the week (No. 6d), a minor omission; and the royal Signum (No. n). Absence of the royal Signum may be a question of modern editorial fancy rather than an actual absence in the original document. All in all, this document can be considered a typical wheeled charter. [99]
 
Alfonso uses a very similar formula in every genuine royal scriptorium prologue. The Invocation and Preamble occur infrequently in the privilege and in these prologues. Vestiges of an Invocation appear in two prologues. In Libro del fuero de las leyes, we read, "We begin this book in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." [44] Does this come from its source? The Iudizios states: "Let us render praise and thanks to God the Father," [45] and later "in the name of God." [46] These two works constitute the exception rather than the norm, and one has to question whether or not presence of the Invocation derives from their source. The Albateni, for example, attributes such custom precisely to its source: "Mahomat, son of Gerber Albatheni, said that the first thing a man should do in beginning a book is to praise God and extol Him." [47] Similarly, Cruzes appears to be citing its source in the rubric for its first chapter, which reads: "In the name of God. This is the book of crosses in the judgment of the stars that Oueydalla explained." [48] Whatever may account for an Invocation in the prologue of Leyes and ludizios, it simply does not form an integral part of either Alfonso's privileges or his royal scriptorium treatises. If preamble means the introductory part of a constitution or statute that usually states the reasons for and intent of the law, little room exists for such in the prologues to the various treatises. If preamble means simply an introductory statement of what is to follow, however, something like that manifests itself in nearly all the prologues under consideration. [49] In some instances, it is a brief one-line synopsis as in EE I; in others, it is substantially more, as in Alfonso's Lapidario.
 
Although Procter is not specific with regard to the use of the pronoun in the Corroboration, the Superscription and the Corroboration seem essentially identical and can thus be discussed jointly. As Procter points out, the basic difference between the two is that the list of dominions differs slightly in the Corroboration: "En el Algarbe ends the list from the first year of the reign, and Badajoz and Baezaare sometimes included." [50] This can be seen in the Burgos charter of 28 December 1254 reproduced above. For the Superscription the last dominion mentioned is Jaén "until 1260, when y del Algarbe is added." [51] With the exception of Cruzes, it would appear that Alfonsoderives the list of dominions in his prologue from the Corroboration rather than from the Superscription, since his earliest texts, even those prior to 1260, include y del Algarbe. The Superscription and the Corroboration offer the strongest parallels between chancery documents and royal scriptorium treatises. The personal pronoun occurs in five of the thirteen prologues examined (QS, Acedrex, GE I, EE I, and Q). Only in GE I is it [100]singular. Name and title are evident in all prologues except in the treatise on the Quadrante sennero, which contains name only: "And thus, we Don Alfonso the aforesaid, ordered Rabiçag." [52] This results from its being an interior or intratextual prologue, and occurs in others of this kind. Combined with the line "we have spoken thus far in this book on the manners of planetary equations, and by what computation each was done," [53] this suggests strongly that the QS should be dealt with as a part of a larger compendium, rather than as an independent treatise as all of its editors have done. Only three of the thirteen prologues lack a listing of the dominions: the two treatises on quadrants, [54] by virtue of the fact that they are intratextual prologues, and Albateni, an oddity which will be examined subsequently. It should be stressed that Cruzes does not list the dominions either, but alludes to them in a novel fashion: "the very noble king, Don Alfonso of Spain." [55]  Iudizios adds "and of Badajoz" [56] after the traditionally last phrase "of the Algarve." [57] Procter indicates a similar occasional inclusion not only of Badajoz but also of Baeza. [58]
 
Finally, rather than mentioning his wife and children in the prologues, Alfonso names his parents-the most common formula being "son of the very noble king, Don Fernando and of the queen Doña Beatriz." Mention of his predecessors, however, is wanting in four prologues (Albateni, ludizios, and the two intratextual treatises on the quadrants). The term "family" in the prologues denotes progenitors, whereas in the chancery documents it signifies wife and progeny. The reason for this difference may be that the prologues look toward the noble lineage from which Alfonsois descended, perhaps for added prestige, perhaps to honor them, or again, perhaps because they and in particular Fernando III initiated Alfonso into the world of knowledge. The foral (local statute) documents, on the other hand, look toward the future, toward regal heirs, thereby assuring the stability of that legal authority.
Unlike chancery documents, only seven of thirteen Alfonsine prologues contain a Date of compilation, and three of these are from interior prologues of the Libro del saber. In general, minimal chronological information occurs in the prologues, consisting of the year in the form of the era, plus either the anno Domini or the regnal year (and sometimes both, as in Formas). Cruzes also presents the dates, in Arabic terms. [59] Even less commonly found in the prologues, perhaps influenced by its invariable absence in the wheeled privilege, is the date of actual completion, a date perhaps more appropriate for the concluding colophon than for a prologue. Its omission is inconsequential for the latter; nevertheless, a date of completion [101] would be very welcome and useful for the bulky treatises, which indubitably required more than one sitting for their scribing. Only three prologues give dates of completion: Leyes (28 August 1265), Cruzes (26 February 1259), and Lapidario (1250). On the last folio of text, the Acedrex offers the date 1283 and the place Seville, but it is unclear whether this date signifies the time of inception or completion or both. The only prologue to indicate place (Burgos) is that of the Açafeha. The prologue to the Espera offers the day of week, Thursday. Day and month can be found in all but the Formas, Lapidario, Açafeha, and Quadrante. The Lapidario uniquely dates itself with a signal event: "It was concluded in the second year that the noble king Don Fernando won the city of Seville," 1250. [60] Cruzes alone provides the Arabic chronology. Only two provide the anno Domini: Formas as 1276-1279 and Quadrante as 1277. Here too, there exists a general mirroring of the formula used in the wheeled charter - although to a significantly lesser extent, since dating is explicit in only five distinct texts (of seven explicit dates, three are found in treatises of the Libro del saber). While a date was imperative for legal effectiveness, unfortunately no similar need existed for the dating of Alfonso's scriptorium treatises.
 
The seventh element of the wheeled charter indicates that the document was drawn up at the king's command. As one might expect, every Alfonsine prologue so indicates. This appears most commonly in the third-person singular (employed twenty times), as in "he had it done" [61] or "he had it translated." [62] First-person plural follows as a distant second, used five times, as in "we had this book done" l63] or "we ordered it compiled."