"Pope Joan"

Jean de Mailly was a Dominican chronicler working in Metz in northeast France in the middle of the 13th century. He wrote a history of the Diocese of Metz, in which he mentions a female pope reigning for two years about the year 1100. She was a talented woman who dressed as a man and became a notary to the pontifical Curia, then a cardinal, and finally a pope.

One day, while riding her horse, she gave birth to a son, revealing the deception. (Honestly, if she were pope for two years and at the end of that time had a son, then at least one person in her orbit knew that she was actually a woman.) With the deception revealed, she got tied to the tail of the horse, dragged around the city, then stoned to death and buried on the spot with the inscription placed over her Petre pater patrum papissae prodito partum ("Peter, Father of Fathers, betray the childbearing of the woman Pope").

This idea tickled the imagination of others, and so it became repeated and expanded. Along came Martin of Troppau, a Polish Dominican, who also wrote history. His history of the world first appeared during the pontificate of Clement IV (1265-68), but it wasn't until the third edition in 1277 that he added the story of the female pope.

Martin places the event in the 9th century, just after the death of Pope Leo IV (847-55). She was an "Englishman" named John of Mainz. Originally taken to Athens as a young girl in male clothing, she became educated until no one was her intellectual equal. She went to Rome (still disguised as a man), and earned so much respect that she was eventually made pope. During a procession from St. Peter's to the Lateran, she gave birth to a child. She died (and was buried) on the spot. Martin refers to her as Johanna. Martin himself was a papal chaplain at the Vatican, so his accounts were widely read, and the legend spread. In a later version of his history he changed the story, saying that she was deposed, imprisoned, and then lived for many years doing penance. The child grew up to become bishop of Ostia, who had her body interred at Ostia.

Later writers give her the birth name of Agnes; others said she was Gilberta. One version of the story says she was given a vision and offered eternal punishment or temporal disgrace. She chose the latter, and that is why she died on the spot after giving birth.

By the 15th century, scholars were looking at these stories and noting their improbability. Unfortunately, the 20th century enjoys escapism and conspiracy theories, and the legend of "Pope Joan" has been embellished to the point where entire books have been written to recount her "history." There is no gap in the history of popes where Joan was excised (although I wrote here, coincidentally, that one annal thought there was a gap before Leo IV, not after.) A 10th-century pope, John XII (955-64), supposedly had a concubine named Joan who was given much authority at the papal palace during his pontificate, and some have speculated that this gave rise to the idea of a "Pope Joan."

But let's say she did become pope; what was she called? She would not have taken the name "Pope Joan"! A Dominican named Bartolomeo Platina (1421-81) called her Pope John VIII. This is silly, since he should have known that there was a Pope John VIII in the 9th century, and not an inconsequential one, either. Let's talk about him next time.

Marshmallow

Yes, marshmallow. (Maybe Halloween has put me in mind of sweets.)

Althaea officinalia (the "marsh mallow") is a perennial that grows wild in salty marshes. Egyptians discovered that the root contained a sweet sap that could be used to sweeten cakes. The delicacy was reserved for Pharaohs.

The Greco-Roman world embraced the substance in mallows and believed it had medicinal value. The 1st century Dioscorides (cribbing from Pliny) wrote:

boiled in ... wine or chopped on its own, it works against wounds, tumors of the parotid gland[*], swellings in the glands of the neck, abcesses, inflamed breasts, inflammations of the anus, bruises, swellings, tensions of the sinews ... It works also against dysentery, blood loss and diarrhoea. [Hippocratic Recipes: Oral and Written Transmission of Pharmacological Knowledge in Fifth- and Fourth-century Greece, p.264]

Medieval Europe, willing to try anything suggested by the Classical world, discovered how sweet the mallow concoctions were and started using them as a sweet treat—with the bonus of them being healthful. An Italian cookbook of the 1400s—De Honesta Voluptuate et Valetudine [On Right Pleasure and Good Health], by Bartolomeo Platina—suggested several ways to season the substance. Medieval monks grew the mallow for its sweetness and medical properties. Herbalists turned it into treatments for sore throats and coughs, indigestion and toothache.

The marshmallow sap was used for liquids in the Middle Ages; it was 19th century French confectioners who whipped it into a solid candy by mixing it with egg whites and corn syrup. Nowadays it can be made without any recourse to the mallow plant. My personal favorite recipe is here (you would be surprised how easy it is to make, and how sticky it is to work with after it has "set"). If you would rather make it from actual marshmallow root, go here.

*The "parotid gland" is a salivary gland in the back of the mouth.