Sooner or Later It All Gets Done: How History Emerges from Small Details

One of the recurring themes in my scholarly life is “lots of little details.” That’s true of many things in life, of course, but this morning I’m struck with its scholarly application. I’m prone to taking account of a lot of bits-of-evidence, the small details that by themselves are trivial but in the big picture add up to something significant. Assuming I’m lucky, of course.

Historians often inherit sources shaped by earlier editors’ priorities, so part of my work has been learning how to ask new questions of familiar materials. Many of our sources with “lots of details” come from the nineteenth century -- Ludwig Rapp and his mastery of parish clerical details in Topographisch-historische Beschreibung is one of my current faves! Wow, what a collector of detail! So truly, local archives and chronicle accounts were edited by folks excited for what the data can show – about war, about politics, about economics. Their questions, however, did not always extend to other kinds of questions, like those about relationships, and households, and famine, and fear.

Thus, even in a place like Bregenz, where the surviving sources were so negatively impacted by war, and invasion, and the predations of time, I love that there are still questions I can ask, and answers in the little details that come from careful consideration of the sources with new questions in mind. I’ve turned up “new” sources on Thalbach, for instance, not by finding actual new documents, but by reading the extant documents for details that didn’t matter to the indexers of past times – payments to and charity for the devout women of the town. Sometimes the clue is as small as a repeated instruction to light a candle at a grave — something no nineteenth-century editor thought worth indexing, but wonderfully delicious for my argument.

And now, I’m plowing my way through prayerbooks, looking for ways in which spirituality is manifest not as treatise but as practice. We have given preference to the authorial voice, particularly those by named authors and/or those approved by the church, for instance. But what is interesting to me is how those sermon-shaped ideas became fixed in these women’s lives – not so much what they *heard* but what they *did* with that spiritual guidance provided to them.

So yes, I’m reading 15^th century prayerbooks for fun and enlightenment. I think these sources can tell us something important – not so much about what these women actually believed, but about what they did as a matter of practice. Actions speak louder than words; prayers, repeated, and copied, and collected, and shared, tell us a lot about how belief became present as part of daily life.

That’s an awful lot of words, of course. Words words words. Oodles and scads of words. 397 folios of words in one case. 120 pages of words in another.

But little by little by little, and sooner or later it all gets done.

Or, as we also say, “every day a little progress.”

That, in the end, is often how historical knowledge grows: not from dramatic discoveries, but from patient attention to what earlier readers overlooked. And spreadsheets. But that’s another post.

WORKS CITED

Image from Vorarlberger Landesbibliothek, Hs 17: a late 16th-century Thalbach prayerbook, fol. 216, "O junckfrow maria ain künigin der himel," marked with a tab in its left-hand margin.

Ludwig Rapp, Topographisch-historische Beschreibung des Generalvikariates Vorarlberg, 5 vols (Brixen: Weger, 1894-1924). I especially love volumes 2 & 3, the Bregenz volumes.

Threefold Illumination: A Nun’s Prayer After Communion

The spiritual quest for three-fold illumination -- knowledge of self; knowledge of God’s love; and knowledge of (and surrender to) God’s will -- is mapped out in the most ornate of the Thalbach Prayerbooks, ÖNB Cod. 11750, at the very end of a long mass prayer cycle. This prayer is seated firmly within a Franciscan orbit with its characteristic affective spirituality, reflective of late 16th-century habits of thought. The text is staunchly Catholic in perspective, for it assumes a very concrete Eucharistic theology: grace is mediated through the sacrament itself (durch krafft dis Sacraments), not just through prayer. Here we see a Catholic woman at the conclusion of a Catholic liturgy, participating in deeply rooted and very specifically Catholic devotional practices.We are anchored here to faith.

The prayer starts with a kind of self-abasement which may read as uncomfortable to modern eyes. The abnegations pile up: wickedness, vileness, worthlessness, ingratitude, insult, shame: through such self-knowledge (!) she asks to come to humility, repentance, and sorrow for my sins. Seeing the bad in order to correct her faults is strategic, a spiritual confession that moves toward the relief of forgiveness. This is classic penitential piety shaping belief and practice in practical, implementable ways. Yet for our modern eyes, the absence of positive self-knowledge is a gap here; this first illumination only tangentially touches on love and forgiveness, making it harder for the passage to resonate with in a more self-affirming age.

The second illumination focuses on love (liebe), used five times in as many lines, matching it with her heart, which must be enlightened, wounded, filled, and then come to thirst. Thus, God’s love toward “us” becomes her love towards God, loved “at all times, in all things, and above all things.” This is lyricism at its finest, repetitiveness deployed as a metaphor of spiritual growth on a properly chosen model. Very Franciscan, and with echoes of Thomas à Kempis or pseudo-Bonaventure in its patternings:

O God, my Lord, I beg you once again through your tender mercy, enlighten my heart to recognize and love your goodness and love for us. I beg you, wound my heart with the purest, most faithful, and fervent love towards us, O sweet Jesus, fill my heart with your most perfect, fervent, and unquenchable love, so that I may always thirst for you with all my heart, and that I may love you at all times, in all things, and above all things.

The enlightened heart, then, comes to fulfill the third illumination: self-denial and self-surrender, a self-rededication to the monastic calling from which she prays. She wants strengthened the scope of her devotion to encompass “all the actions and powers” of both body and soul. By moving from abnegation through love to action, she is transforming herself here at this moment, repurposing her spirit to accomplish God’s ends.

The sacrament, then, has accomplished its function. It does not merely forgive sin; it illuminates the mind, reshapes the affections, and reorders the will toward God’s action, serving as an agent of interior transformation. In this brief prayer we see how sacramental devotion worked in practice: not as a single moment of absolution, but as an ongoing process of spiritual formation rooted in Franciscan ideals of humility, love, and surrender.

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“O Ewiger liebhabender barmhertziger Gott erleucht mein hertz,” Thalbach Prayerbook, ÖNB Cod. 11750, fol. 47v-48v, Transcription and Translation CC-BY-NC Cynthia J. Cyrus

Du magſt auch bitten vmb dreifaltige erleichtung/ dz dir ſolche / durch krafft dis Sacraments mitgetailt werde.

[3-line initial] O Ewiger liebhabender barmhertziger Gott erleucht mein hertz/ Dz ich meīn aigne bossheit ſchnödigkeit nichtigkeith vnnd vndanckbarkeit moͤg erkennen/ also dz ich ab ſolchem ein geburenden mÿsfallenn hab • Laß mich erkennen. O Guettiger Jeſu wie ich ſo gar nichts bin noch kan, vnd dz ich mich ſelbs veracht. Gib mir aüch, dz ich von hertzen von der Welt beger uerarcht zu werdenn, dz ich wünsch diemüettig zu sein: vnd vnbild vnd schmach zu leiden mich erfrewe. Eya du mein guettigſter herr Jhesu, geůſin mich ware erkantnus meiner ſelbſt auch volkomne demůott, rew vnd laid v̈ber meine begangne Sünnd.

O Gott mein herr ich bitte dich abermals durch dem Jimierliche barmhertzigkeit erleüchte mein hertz dem guettigkeit vnnd liebe gegen vns zu erkennen vnd zu lieben Jch bitte verwunde mein hertz mit keuschister getrewester vnd inbrünstiger liebe gegen vns O ſueſſer Jeſu, erfulle mein hertz mit deiner volkomesten, inbrünstigen vnd vnauſloͤſchkichen liebe / damit mich allzeit vongantzem hertzenn nach dür dürste, vnd dz ich dich ieder zeit in allem vnd vber alles liebe /

O Guettigster Jhesu, mein Gott vnnd alles in allem / Ich bitte dich / erleicht mein hertz/ deinen wolgefallen zu erkennen, zu lieben vnd volbrüngen. Gib mir vollkomesten erlaugnüng vnd aufergebüng meiner ſelbſt / darmit ich mich, selbs aüff Alle weiSS uerlaSS / aus mir gehe / vnd mich auffer gebe zuallem deinē wolgefallenn, Gib mir / dz ich mich ganz vnd gar deiner für ſehüng vertrawe / alle ding von deiner Hannd mit dancksagung annemmen vnd in allem dich lob vnd benedeÿe. Verschaffe O guettiger Gott/dz ich all mein leben alle zeit alles thunvnnd krefften meiner leibs vnd meiner Seelen und alles wz ich bin vnd vermag zu deinem lob Lieb vnd wolgefallen darraiche vnnd dargebe, Amen.

You may also ask for threefold illumination, that this may be imparted to you through the power of this sacrament.

O eternal, loving, merciful God, enlighten my heart, that I may recognize my own wickedness, vileness, worthlessness, and ingratitude, so that I may have a proper displeasure at it. Let me recognize, O good Jesus, how completely I am nothing and can do nothing, and that I may hold myself in contempt. Grant me also that I may wholeheartedly desire to be despised by the world, that I may wish to be humble, and that I may rejoice in suffering insult and shame. O my most gracious Lord Jesus, grant me true knowledge of myself, also perfect humility, repentance, and sorrow for my sins.

O God, my Lord, I beg you once again through your tender mercy, enlighten my heart to recognize and love your goodness and love for us. I beg you, wound my heart with the purest, most faithful, and fervent love towards us, O sweet Jesus, fill my heart with your most perfect, fervent, and unquenchable love, so that I may always thirst for you with all my heart, and that I may love you at all times, in all things, and above all things.

O most gracious Jesus, my God and all in all, I beg you, enlighten my heart to recognize, love, and carry out your good pleasure. Grant me perfect self-denial and self-surrender, so that I may completely abandon myself in every way, go out of myself, and surrender myself to all your good pleasure. Grant me that I may completely trust in your providence, receiving all things from your Hand; Receive all things from your hand with thanksgiving, and praise and bless you in all things. Grant, O gracious God, that all my life, at all times, I may dedicate and offer all the actions and powers of my body and soul, and all that I am and can do, to your praise, honor, and good pleasure. Amen.

Practicing Death: The “Seven Last Words” at Thalbach

The back-end of the Thalbach prayerbook (ÖNB Cod. 11750, 56v-60r) provides an early modern devotional adaptation of the “Seven Last Words” (Sieben Worte Christi am Kreuz), transformed into a death-bed meditation cycle. This is a localized, pastoralized, and affectively expanded version of a common text-type, rather than a “standard” translation of a single printed source. They all start from the biblical sequence (Luke, John, Matthew) but are freely paraphrased and expanded.

The tradition itself was extremely widespread. As a genre, the Seven Last Words meditation typos predates the Reformation and survives confessionalization pretty well intact, growing and adapting to local belief and its needs. The genre draws on at least three major late medieval/early modern currents. Like much of the Passion meditation literature in general, it promotes imaginative participation in a visually re-enacted passion scene, along with the attached emotional identification and afirst-person response that sees oneself as part of that broader narrative. It fits in too with other ars moriendi texts, in that it emphasizes a readiness for death along with a renunciation of “zeitliche” things. The penitent soul submits to God will, echoing--through an act of will--the Passion as a model (“into your hands I commend myself”). And, it fits with its late 16^th century ethos, a time when structured death prayers and affective piety intermingled as a way of coaching the devout toward a particular kind of religiosity.

The Thalbach version—copied as an addition to the manuscript in a dubious scribal hand and bearing several signs of amateur copying (from letter forms to transcription errors)—is interesting for several reasons. (I give a provisional transcription of the Seventh Word at the end of this post for those interested.)

BIBLICAL ALLUSION: It is typical of post-1500 vernacular adaptations of this sort, in that it boasts a kind of biblical in-fill with a number of loose biblical quotations shaping its language and approach. For instance, the text integrates not just passion narrative, but scriptural allusion. For example, the end of the fifth word brings in the deer of Psalm 42:

• darumb durstet mein Seel nach dir, dem Leben: unnd Gleich wie ein Zürsche eilet, Zu den Wasser brunen, Also Blomiget mein Seel nach dir, das du sie trenkhe mit dem siirssen kranckh de mer ewigen khlarheit, vnd sie behrtest vor dem hellischen durß in Ewigkheit, Amen

• therefore my soul thirsts for you, the living word, and just as a deer hastens to the water springs, so my soul longs for you, that you may quench its thirst with the sweet drink of your eternal clarity, and preserve it from the hellish thirst in eternity. Amen.

• (Psalm 42, NIV: As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. 2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? 3 My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”)

This text lives in a world shaped by the Psalm’s echo, a strong framing for affective contemplation. Such biblical saturation suggests a deeply grounded reader, someone who could “get” the allusions without citation or further prompting. To my eye, that speaks to Thalbach educational practices; sisters of whatever level were expected to know their psalter intimately.

FIRST PERSON FRAMING ON THE DEATHBED: The text, divided into seven parts, with each part on its own page-or-two, serves as a bit of a how-to guide to walk you through the final hours of life. That process demands a kind of penitential self-examination, common to early modern Catholicism. There is a strong first-person presence in this version of the Seven Last Words, and that is shaped around the actual act of dying, not just a meditation-on-death.

Death is a consistent presence: “meines Todts… Sterben… mein Leiden… meiner Seele… bereit zu sterben” (my death... dying... my suffering... my soul... ready to die). In case the text itself wasn’t a good enough pointer (and it clearly is), the rubric tells us so: den Sterbenden mensch Trostlich (Comforting the dying person). This is devotional literature aimed at actual dying, not general piety.

INTERIORITY: Almost every section moves quickly into a confessional self-assessment: As a sinner, a poor sinner, I recognize my sins, she posits repeated. This is commission, the things she has done that are wrong, but also omission: “ich … wenig guets gethan, darumb ich billich ewige Straffe (I have done little good, therefore I deserve eternal punishment.)

We are seeing here an individualistic interiorization of the need for forgiveness, not a communal experience of death. There’s no collective voice, and no institutional framing. We don’t have the sisters coming to the sound of the clapper; this is death as an act of self identity through a direct encounter, God to soul. It has a lot of parallels with the shift in how Bregenz memoria were constructed, to be honest, but that’s for another (and extensive) bit of writing.

SOCIAL ETHICS OF DYING: She may be considering her interior spiritual needs, but those needs are also manifest as the things she has done to others while in the world. In the Second Word, for instance, she ask forgiveness:

die ich beleidige, zu sünden verursacht habe (whom I have offended, and caused to sin)

So death is framed as a moment of social repair, not only private salvation.

MY TAKE-AWAY:

For me, this modest, messy text is a reminder of why these prayerbooks matter so much. Its theology is not expressed in polished argument, but in repetition, hesitation, and emotional insistence. It shows how the sisters were taught to inhabit their own deaths in advance—through scripture, through penitence, through acts of reconciliation. Read alongside Thalbach’s commemorative practices and memorial networks, it suggests that preparation for death was not only something done for others, but something carefully cultivated within the self. This small addition thus opens a window onto the inner work of memoria: the quiet, disciplined labor of learning how to die well.

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DAS SIBENT WORT / THE SEVENTH WORD:

What follows is a provisional transcription and translation of the Seventh Word, offered to illustrate the tone and structure of the text rather than as a definitive edition. I have lightly normalized the German: vnnd = und, dir außgangen = dir ausgegangen; schopffung = Schöpfung, and so on.

60r das sibent wort Herr Gott vnnd Vatter, Ich bin von die außgangen, durch die schopf: fung in dise welt, Nun aber muß in alles was zeitlich ist, Er lasse vnnd widr zu die komen in dem ewigs reich, denn es nachet die Stundt, vnd ist kost auß mit meinem ellenden vergenkhlich Leben, Doch bin vnuerzogt, den mene seeligkheit stehet in deiner handt, darein ich dir auch mein Armen seel treulich wil be- folchen haben Vnd bin berait zu Sterben, Darumb Laß mich dir aller Liebster vatter, Zu aller Zeit beuolchen sein, vnd wie ich dir utrån, er weckh nich wid om Inngste, tag, mit denen Ausser wollen dich ewigkhlich zu Loben

The Seventh Word Lord God and Father, I have come forth from you through creation into this world. Now, however, I must leave behind everything that is temporal and return to you in the eternal kingdom. For the hour draws near, and my wretched, perishable life is soon at an end. Yet I am not afraid, for my salvation rests in your hand, into which I faithfully commend my poor soul. And I am ready to die. Therefore, let me, most beloved Father, remain entrusted to you at all times. And just as I place my trust in you, do not raise me up again on the Last Day among those who are rejected, but among those who are chosen to praise you eternally.