Vincent Ferrer’s Vision: Oral Traditions, Texts and Imagery

Abstract

All stories vary depending on the channel through which they are presented. In the Late Middle Ages, the transmission of a single fact or event differed significantly according to the means of communication. Since at least 1408, Dominican preacher Saint Vincent Ferrer (c. 1350–1419) used to talk, in some sermons, about the vision experienced by a nameless friar who, being healed in extremis by Christ, preached the arrival of Antichrist afterward. In 1412, Ferrer wrote a letter addressed to pope Benedict XIII including the story of this ecstasy, though with some changes. In 1429, in the parish church of Santa Maria Assunta (frazione Stella, Macello, Piedmont) the earliest depiction of this legendary episode was made. Ferrer was explicitly identified for the first time as the unknown friar mentioned in his sermons from 1408. Extraordinarily, a picture of the friar’s figure appeared beside a literal copy of some passages from Ferrer’s letter to Benedict XIII, incorporated in the same frescoes. This rich documentation reveals the importance of interactions between sermons, texts and images in shaping the narrative of Vincent Ferrer’s vision and its later memory.

1. Introduction

The communicative framework in the medieval period had three essential methods: orality, writings and images. Telling a story out loud, writing it down for later reading or painting it to the object of its contemplation implies, voluntarily or not, the creation of agreements and discrepancies among the resulting versions of the same event in each medium. The particularity of these three methods, with the hic et nunc offered by the preacher (D’Haenens 1983, pp. 227–28), the traditional unimpeachable value of the written text (scripta manent, verba volant) or the power of images (Freedberg 1989), participated in the evolution and transformation of the contents of the same story. For example, the preachers literally reproduced a biblical passage in their sermons, showing, in this specific case, the concordance between orality and literature. However, they could also reproach the artists of the time for the licenses they took when picturing that biblical passage. In this way, through the sermons, the divergence between the writings and the images had been made public. These concordances and divergences between the three aforementioned channels of expression are key to understanding the birth and diffusion of some late medieval stories, and even more so when several sources are preserved from the three methods of communication.1 This is the case in point of Vincent Ferrer’s vision, in which we can compare and contrast orality (sermons delivered by the Dominican friar) writing (Ferrer’s letter to Benedict XIII) and images (wall paintings in Macello).

The Dominican Vincent Ferrer was the most famous preacher of his time, although he only devoted himself to this activity in the last twenty years of his life. Born in Valencia around 1350, after the beginning of the Schism in 1378, he defended Avignon obedience, an attitude that cost him his position as prior of the convent of Santo Domingo in his hometown. From then until 1416, he was a trusted man of Cardinal Pedro de Luna, Pope Benedict XIII, from 1394 on. In Avignon in 1398, being a papal confessor, he suffered an ecstasy that caused his complete dedication to preaching from 1399 until his death. This ecstasy or vision, the pillar of this study, involved the transformation of the character.

The case relating to the episode of the friar’s life that granted him a new role within Christianity is an ideal example: when viewed together, the preserved sources from each of the three methods of communication are a real treasure trove. It is important to note that the Avignon vision was the most significant moment in Vincent Ferrer’s biography (Daileader 2016, p. 1). It was the final push towards a sort of fame that would transcend the earthly realm. That ecstasy made Ferrer legatus a latere Christi: a legate of Christ. It also turned him into a prophet, the etymology of which, in the friar’s words, comes from “procul fans:” speaking far, of times that cannot be known by human understanding. (Saint Vincent Ferrer 1973, p. 103). From the vision emerged a being who, having been touched by God in body and in spirit, had seen humanity’s destiny, as did the Old-Testament prophets to which he likened himself (Saint Vincent Ferrer [1934] 1971, pp. 38–39). Without the legendary episode, Ferrer would have been a great man of the Church, perhaps a key figure in international political issues or even a holy man, but all justifications of his hypothetical saintliness would lack a cornerstone. To delve into the vision is to penetrate the very origin of his sainthood and the last twenty years of his life. In addition, it should not be forgotten that this mystical episode meant, in its original context, a political and religious message of great importance: the support of divine illumination to the Avignonese obedience.2

Though the world’s unfortunate destiny was first revealed to him during that epiphany, Ferrer possessed other evidence of the upcoming apocalypse. Some of it was popular, other parts were less so, but all of it shaped the sermons awaited most eagerly by the Christian community, especially between 1411 and 1414:

Everyone wishes to know when it will come, and I do not think I should give a sermon on it, as I have already written a treatise on it to the Pope, so turn to it and you will know, as many in this city already have it. There you will see the facts.

(Saint Vincent Ferrer 1988, p. 230)

On that day, between November 1412 and December 1414 (Perarnau i Espelt 1989), Ferrer chose another theme for his sermon, much to the disappointment of the congregation, who knew they were listening to one of God’s chosen few who knew of the Last Judgement’s imminence. Ferrer had already expounded the proximity of the end of days at great length, as requested by Benedict XIII.3 The medium he used was a letter to the pontiff, written in Alcañiz on 27 July 1412—to which the friar referred in the above quote as a ‘treatise’—which summarized the apocalyptic prophecies he had included in his preaching since 1399.

A key part of the epistle was the account of a sickly friar’s vision, representing his supposed ecstasy (1398?), which was the ultimate cause of his newfound determination to preach in order to convert and correct all men, as commanded by the Son of God, before the Antichrist’s arrival. The friar had already told of the vision on prior occasions and in various places, along with the other evidence he would write about to the Pope, who demanded an explanation in writing from his old friend which detailed the reasons why he believed the universal disruption was coming. The most personal, and therefore most reliable, reason was his implied vision; his use of the pronoun ‘he’ instead of ‘I’ when recounting it did not prevent many of his contemporaries from allocating him the first-person status that made him the protagonist of the story. The legendary episode would also be represented in a painting barely a decade after Ferrer’s death, when he had been beatified by the people but not yet canonized (this would ultimately be delayed until 1455). Around 1429, a small Piedmontese chapel incorporated the most substantial part of the treatise which mestre Vicent sent to the pontiff into this figuration of the vision, and into the adjacent representation of his preaching. This was substantial, at least, in terms of the genesis of Vincentian iconography.

2. Mestre Vincent’s Vision

In July 1398, Vincent Ferrer left the papal palace in Avignon, where he resided as the papal confessor, and made his way to the city’s Dominican convent. This departure may have been the result of a disagreement with Benedict XIII, his mentor, over the measures taken in the face of the French siege of the pontifical stronghold (De Garganta and Forcada 1956, p. 36). Ferrer became seriously ill in the Dominican residence. On 3 October 1398, the episode that would transform his existence took place in his monastic cell.4 According to the accounts he gave on various occasions in the third person—though certain information he provided led congregations and most subsequent historiography to single him out as the protagonist—Ferrer saw Christ, accompanied by Saint Francis and Saint Dominic, approach his sickbed.5 He was then cured by the Son of God, and urged to preach for the rest of his life. Christ then indicated that the end times would come when his mission was complete. The following speech made by Ferrer in Toledo in 1411 is considered paradigmatic of how he recounted the miracle in his preaching:

The second is another revelation made to a holy man who is alive, I think. And he was ill, with a serious illness, and that holy man had great devotion to Saint Francis and Saint Dominic. And he prayed to them to pray to God to bring him health, and the holy man was taken in spirit towards heaven, and he saw Jesus Christ, who was on a throne, and Saint Dominic and Saint Francis were below him, and they were praying. And they were saying, ‘Lord, not so soon; Lord, not so soon!’ And, in his heart, the friar said, ‘Oh, how Christ was resisting!’ And then Jesus Christ and Saint Dominic and Saint Francis descended to that sickly friar. And Jesus Christ said to him, ‘My child, I will wait for your preaching’. And he was healed. And I know him and I have spoken to him and he told me this many times. And now, good people, Jesus Christ is waiting for this friar’s preaching.

(Cátedra García 1994, p. 571)6

This sermon, which bears great similarity to the wording of the letter Ferrer would send to the pontiff a year later, was not the first or the only homiletic reference he made to his vision. When he spoke in Toledo, thirteen years had already passed—or even fifteen—since that miracle, which he described on other occasions. The story had, therefore, probably been subject to modification, like any other oral account. The first question is clear: did the story change?

Ferrer did not begin his holy assignment to preach with the aforementioned divine powers until 22 November, 1399. This is what his main biographers deduced from the following quote:

In the Holy Church, today we celebrate the blessed virgin martyr, Saint Cecilia, and I want to preach about her, not for any general reason, just because she is a virgin and martyr, but for a special reason, as on this day I started to preach around the world and announced my legatus a latere Christi, and because she has bestowed many graces upon me, which is why I wish to continue to preach about her.

(Chabás 1903, p. 111)7

3. Through Sermons

A considerable amount of time elapsed between the vision and the beginning of Ferrer’s apostolic campaign. Another five years must be added to this period before these references to the Avignon epiphany in his preaching begin to be recorded in documents.8 Aware that only a meager percentage of his speeches have been preserved—as demonstrated by that empty stretch of almost five years—I have prepared a review of the references to the vision in his collection of sermons. First of all, it is important to emphasize how difficult it is to date some of the sermons mentioned; the opinions of experts on the matter must take precedence. The oldest preserved reportatio of his sermons dates back to 1404. It was drafted by Franciscan brother of German origins Friedrich von Amberg, and is preserved in the Convent of the Cordeliers in Fribourg. The document concerns Ferrer’s Lent preachings in the city and other nearby population centres (Morerod 2006; Hodel 1993). Though the reportator recorded the sermons in the aforementioned year, the corrected, written-up version was ready from 1406 (Perarnau i Espelt 1999b). Ferrer discussed the proximity of the end of days extensively in the most important city, Fribourg.9 There was no mention of his vision. In his preaching on signs of the apocalypse, he did incorporate the delaying of the Last Judgement due to intervention from the Virgin Mary, when Saint Francis and Saint Dominic appear before Christ. This is the famous episode where Christ brandishes three lances, ready to destroy the world.10 This occurrence would be used on later occasions by Ferrer as an introduction to his account of the Avignon vision, though seemingly not in this campaign, according to the preserved data. However, three blank pages in the codex make any certainty impossible in this regard (Perarnau i Espelt 1999b, p. 65). In any case, this silence seems odd, given that this was the soonest known preaching campaign after the friar’s epiphany.

The collection of sermons from Perugia covers the Valencian friar’s preaching activity as taken from an antigraph made in or after 1407, perhaps by Ferrer himself (Gimeno Blay 2019, p. 140), though it contains added elements from a later date.11 It outlines many of the main reasons he would detail in his letter to Benedict XIII to explain the imminent end of the world. The renowned schematic nature of this volume, arranged in a schedulae or schemata sermonum style, does not shed much light on the details. Nevertheless, it constitutes a concise crib sheet that Ferrer himself would use and develop in his own unique way in some of his preaching. Sermon 407 includes the reminder “ad hoc etiam nota revelationem factam religioso infirmo sunt circiter 20 anni” (“for this, see also the revelation made to the sick holy man, around 20 years ago”).12 This manuscript, conserved in the Convent of Saint Dominic in Perugia, made use of the same antigraph, mentioned above (Gimeno Blay 2019, p. 140), as the two manuscripts in the Vatican Apostolic Library, namely shelfmark numbers Vat. lat. 4375 and Vat. lat. 7730 (Perarnau i Espelt 1999a, p. 157). The first contains practically the same note, “ad hoc etiam nota revellationem factam religioso infimo, sunt circiter viginti anni” (Perarnau i Espelt 1999a, p. 160), but the second does not.

Up to now, only brief entries on the vision, characteristic of the concise tone required in an outline, have been cited. The details of this and other stories were omitted in these summaries, and Ferrer would later adapt them to his audiences. This is another gap that calls for caution.

A significant turning point took place in late 1408. Vincent Ferrer gave the sermon “Reminiscamini quia ego dixi vobis” in Montpellier.13 In it, he provided an abundance of information and arguments regarding the imminence of the end time: minutiae that he would repeat years later, with certain modifications, in the Castilian campaign (1411), and which he would write up in an organized fashion in his epistle to Benedict XIII on the Antichrist and the end of days (1412). This rationale would reach peak eloquence in Ferrer’s preaching during Lent of 1413 in Valencia. Let us examine this excerpt from the sermon given in Montpellier on 5 December 1408:

Second, it can be proven by the authority of the Holy Scripture, in Revelation chapter eighteen, which says ‘And I saw another angel flying through the midst of heaven, having the eternal gospel, to preach unto them that sit upon the earth, and over every nation, and tribe, and tongue, and people: Saying with a loud voice: Fear the Lord, and give him honour, because the hour of his judgement is come’. Let us look at who this angel is. I tell you that a good preacher is he who evangelises, meaning he who preaches the word of God to all, saying with a loud voice: fear the Lord, and give him honour, because the hour of his judgement is come, etc. So, let us see that nothing has been corrected by the preaching of Dominicans and Franciscans. As in the time of Saint Dominic, no usury prevailed, except among the Jews. Today, we find it among Christians. And let us see that clergymen do not respect their own religion, and the same can be said of all other mortals. In this moratorium in which we find ourselves, few direct their prayers to the Virgin Mary, and for this reason it will arrive quickly, very quickly, and soon. This can be proven thanks to some revelations. The first is that a certain Franciscan, whom I consider to be virtuous, upright, and devout, was ill, around twenty years ago. And on the eve of Saint Francis, he prayed to the saint to intercede before God to recover his health. When his pleas ended, he fell into a deep sleep, and the Lord appeared with Saint Francis and Saint Dominic, who prayed to God to delay the arrival of the end of the world. And Saint Francis also prayed to God for the ill man. But Our Lord Jesus Christ seemed cold, like marble. He approached the sick man, gently touched his face, and told him, ‘Go and preach around the world, and when your preaching is over, I will send the Antichrist’. The friar stood up and found himself completely cured, and since then, he has not ceased to go around the world preaching every day so that people may convert to God. Therefore, see the homily of Saint Gregory in the Gospel: ‘And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars’. Brethren, we have seen many signs in the sun and the moon, we have also seen earthquakes, so that many signs of the judgement of God have passed and few remain. That is why the end of the world will come soon. Seven hundred years have passed since Saint Gregory said those words, and if he spoke like this, with much more force we can say: remember that I told you.

(Morenzoni 2004, p. 265)

There is something very striking in the above text. When he narrates what would eventually be identified as his own vision in Avignon, Ferrer puts a Franciscan friar at the centre of the story (Daileader 2016, pp. 151–52; Calvé Mascarell 2016, pp. 366–67). It is true that, from then on, he would always use the third person when referring to his vision, alluding to an unspecified holy man from one of the orders created by Dominic de Guzmán and Giovanni di Pietro Bernardone, respectively. This does not make for any less of a surprise; the protagonist of what is thought to be the first extended account of the Avignon vision is a Franciscan. How was it possible to deduce that Ferrer, when he described the friar as a “frater minor,” was talking about himself?

In theory, this is the first complete reference to the vision. The transcriber may have misunderstood the occasional piece of information—details such as “non sunt elapsi XXti anni” [twenty years had not passed] and “Apocalypsis XVIIIº capitulo” [Revelation chapter 18] are surprising14—but changing the protagonist’s religious order is a more substantial issue. Ferrer never referred to himself as the active subject in a story that, in this first version, seemed to happen to a Franciscan friar. The fact that the vision was said to have taken place on the day before Saint Francis’s feast day may or may not be a coincidence. Later historiography incorporated this detail—which I believe to have been taken from this sermon, as it does not appear in Ferrer’s famous epistle—but did not take into account that the friar in the vision was unlikely to be identified as Ferrer.

The sermon, dated by Morenzoni, is not simply another piece of a complex, perhaps unsolvable puzzle. The Université de Genève professor has already offered other hypotheses situating the stay in Montpellier as the beginning of Ferrer’s apocalyptic preaching (Morenzoni 2004, p. 234). The theory around the Franciscan protagonist may seem bold, but if this testimony of the sermon is considered valid, it constitutes a turning point in the transformation of the message regarding the Avignon vision. A no less respectable conclusion is that the friar slipped up, the copyist made an error, some information was lost, or the dating is wrong. This excerpt of the sermon in Montpellier also includes Ferrer’s first use of the complete sequence from Revelation 14:6–7: a biblical passage that had barely been used by the friar up to that point and that would become a leitmotif in later Vincentian iconography, due to the creation of the official image for his canonization (Calvé Mascarell 2016, pp. 349–432).

Two and a half years later, the Toledo sermon, alluded to above, took place. The multiple sources available relating to the speech (Cátedra García 1984) provide an overall reading of the vision as presented through the homiletic act. From the preacher—Vincent Ferrer—the preparation and development of the message has been recorded. There is also evidence of its impression on the congregation.

The Sermonario de San Vicente Ferrer del Real Colegio-Seminario del Corpus Christi de Valencia consolidates the information available on Ferrer’s preaching activity during his Castilian campaign (1411–1412). The development of the sermon presented in the tome is less detailed than it is in the codex studied by Cátedra. This explains why it only contains the introduction of the sermon on the theme of “Reminiscamini quia ego dixi vobis,” which is where another allusion to the episode in question is to be expected (San Vicente Ferrer 2002, p. 37). Despite this hole, the volume contains more brief references to the vision, which were likely developed when the sermon was given. For example, when talking about the arrival of the Antichrist: “Et ita aparec hec conclusio vera, et fortificatur alia racione per visionem cuiusdam religiosy, qui habet magis quam LX años” (“And this conclusion proves to be true and is strengthened for another reason through the vision of a holy man aged over sixty years”) (San Vicente Ferrer 2002, p. 224). In the same volume, another entry relating to the vision is especially thought-provoking, as it links two different episodes that would be incorporated into the design of a famous Valencian float from 1414 (to be discussed later): “Tercium argumentum est de religioso cui fuit revelatum quod iret predicare per totum mundum avisando gentes, nam Christus expectaret eum antequam miteret tres lanceas” (“The third argument is about the holy man to whom it was revealed that he would preach all over the world, warning nations, because Christ would wait for him before sending the three lances”) (San Vicente Ferrer 2002, p. 521).

Except in the first case, with its explicit reference to an old man whose age seems to coincide with Ferrer’s, these vague allusions do not enrich the evolution of the story. This does occur, however, in the reportatio of the sermon given on 8 July 1411, preserved in the Real Academia Española codex, edited by Cátedra. It repeats the theme from the sermon of 5 December 1408 in Montpellier, “Reminiscamini quia ego dixi vobis:”

The second is another revelation made to a holy man who is alive, I think. And he was ill, with a serious illness, and that holy man had great devotion to Saint Francis and Saint Dominic. And he prayed to them to pray to God to bring him health, and the holy man was taken in spirit towards heaven, and he saw Jesus Christ, who was on a throne, and Saint Dominic and Saint Francis were below him, and they were praying. And they were saying, ‘Lord, not so soon; Lord, not so soon!’ And, in his heart, the friar said, ‘Oh, how Christ was resisting!’ And then Jesus Christ and Saint Dominic and Saint Francis descended to that sickly friar. And Jesus Christ said to him, ‘My child, I will wait for your preaching’. And he was healed. And I know him and I have spoken to him and he told me this many times. And now, good people, Jesus Christ is waiting for this friar’s preaching. But be aware that he is old, over sixty years, and he has little life left. Know that, from the beginning of the world until the end, when our Lord God wants to do something again, first He sends a messenger to warn the people, which is what He did in Noah’s flood, which was a great destruction of people, as only eight people remained. And a messenger came beforehand to tell them. And they did not believe him and they scorned him; and then they were caught off guard. Furthermore, before the renovation of the Jews, did He not send a prophet, Jeremiah, and they did not believe him? And now, good people, this is the renovation. And that is why God revealed that we had a messenger.

(Cátedra García 1994, pp. 571–72)

In comparison with the development of the Montpellier sermon, it is worth noting the omission of the day on which the vision occurred (the eve of the feast of Saint Francis), the transformation of the Franciscan friar into a generic “holy man who is alive.” In addition, the way the prayer to save that friar was also omitted, which was started by Saint Francis in the 1408 account, and is now begun by Saints Francis and Dominic jointly. In this healing, the Montpellier account includes the divine touch (“et tetigit eum dulciter in facie”), which is absent in the Castilian capital.15 In Toledo, Ferrer indicates that, in addition to knowing the holy man, he has spoken to him many times, also referring to his advanced age (noted in the outline in the Real Colegio-Seminario del Corpus Christi de Valencia text), though all details were omitted in Montpellier. This is not a comfortable, harmonious contrast. It is worth wondering whether or not the congregation in Montpellier could identify Vincent Ferrer as the visionary who had thrown himself into preaching about the end of days by divine command. Cautiously, I would argue that they could not. By contrast, the answer is affirmative in terms of the congregation’s perception in Toledo. One witness in particular made the connection. What is more, according to their testimony, everyone present was in agreement.

The anonymous author of “Relación a Don Fernando de Antequera de la predicación toledana de San Vicente Ferrer” [Report of Saint Vincent Ferrer’s preaching in Toledo to Ferdinand of Antequera] (Cátedra García 1984, pp. 297–304) informed the future king of the Crown of Aragon of what the friar was preaching in Castile, with a special focus on apocalyptic themes. He did so upon request from Ferdinand of Antequera. In the dutiful spy’s report, the identification is clear. As he narrates the proof of the apocalypse put forward by Ferrer in that sermon of 8 July 1411, he explains:

The second revelation was made to a holy man who was sick and could not recover, to whom God told him to come and preach about the Antichrist, and for however long his preaching lasted, so too the world would last. And he said that he was a man aged sixty years; and that he could not say who he was. And the day before, he had said that he was sent to preach about the Antichrist, and that he was sent by Pope Jesus. By which he implied that he was this holy man, and that is what he implied every day, and we all understood that he was referring to himself.

(Cátedra García 1984, p. 304)

The informant’s syllogism requires little dissection. From at least the summer of 1411 onwards, a majority of the people (“we all”) would assume that Ferrer was the protagonist of the vision: a conclusion that was, at the very least, debatable three years before in Montpellier, and perhaps out of reach for those who listened to him years prior to that, in Switzerland.

On another note, the informer grasped the link between the miracle and the explanation of the new mission, similarly to observers in Montpellier, though this time, instead of mentioning the apocalyptic angel (Rev 14:6–7), Ferrer referred to the Old Testament prophets. Except in this omission of the Revelation passage, Ferrer’s subsequent preaching on the vision bore considerable analogies to what was seen in Toledo, where, perhaps due to the spontaneity of oral expression, he neglected to mention Christ’s divine touch on the friar’s face.

From 1411 onwards, congregations seemed to have no difficulties in identifying the Dominican friar as the new man chosen by Christ to warn of the imminent end of days.16 Reference to the episode was essential for Ferrer to highlight the divine task that, according to him, earned him some disdain:

Before the destruction of the flood, God sent the great man Noah to warn the people, preaching how the world was to be destroyed, and that they should do penance. For fifteen years now, another Noah has been preaching the destruction of the world around the world, and some mock and ridicule him.

(Chabás 1903, pp. 111–12)

On the subject of denouncing sceptics, in another sermon, he declared:

Good people! Be well warned of this day that will soon come to be. Some say, ‘mestre Vicent is only saying it to frighten us’; but telling falsehoods when preaching is a mortal sin, and I would not tell you such a thing.

(Toldrà i Vilardell 2006, pp. 3, 239)

The mockery was minimal compared to the admiration generated by his eschatological preachings, in which he took on even more prominence, if possible, given that many now believed that the imminent apocalypse was revealed to him in his trance. Ferrer did not hesitate to describe his activity as a messenger of the apocalypse, in the third person and now, metaphorically, as the third angel, in line with the first part of the excerpt from the Montpellier sermon reproduced here, and with a section of the letter sent to the Pope in 1412, which will be analyzed later:

And you see, then, that God wishes to destroy all of this world with fire, and that he sends a messenger, which Saint John says in Revelation (chapter eighteen): ‘Et vidi alterum angelum euntem per medium celum, [habentem Evangelium eternum, ut evangelizaret sedentibus super terram, et super omnem gentem, et tribum, et linguam, et populum, dicens magna voce: Timete Deum et date illi honorem] quia venit hora iudicii eius’. There are many mysteries. ‘Alterum angelum euntem per medium celum’; he does not say ‘vidi angelum’. Why does he say ‘alterum’? I will tell you. It is like a friar of Saint Dominic or of Saint Francis who observes the rules correctly, like Saint Francis, saying now: ‘Oh, see here another Francis’, and he is not Saint Francis, but another, like the one Saint John speaks of: ‘Vidi alterum angelum’, because he must have the life of an angel. And how? Because the angel wants nothing but to honour God: he does not want clothes, or gold, or silver, or friendship of people or friends; he is solitary, as an angel only desires to honour God and for souls to be saved. Then, the angel is hidden, no one sees him; like him. Then, ‘volantem per medium celum’: this is what Saint Gregory says, that ‘celum’ is understood as Christianity, as in heaven there are twelve signs, by which we have influences with which we live; thus, Christianity has twelve articles of faith, by which we know God and what is needed for salvation. Then, in heaven there are seven planets, by which we have many oppressions; and you see that Christianity has seven sacraments of the Church, by which the Church and Christianity are governed. Then, in heaven there are many small stars; and here you see the infinite graces we have from God. And then, ‘habentem evangelium eternum’, that is, the Bible, the Old Testament, and the New Testament is represented in the Old. And then, ‘ut evangelizaret sedentibus super terram’, that is, to the secular lords, kings, dukes, ‘dicentem eis peccata sua clare’, and to the prelates, too, and to all the others. Then, ‘super tribum’: they are the Jews, who go from tribe to tribe, and that preacher, in the lands where they are, he must make them come to the sermon to declare the truth to them, and hear the truths of their law. Then, ‘et linguam’; they are the Muslims, and he must also make them come to the sermon to hear the falsehoods and truths of their law. And that messenger did not have to go for Granada, or for Tartary, but for Christianity. Then, ‘super omnem gentem’: these are the Christians, rich and poor, as he must preach to them all and tell them their sins, and reprimand them so that they correct their errors before God soon. Then, ‘et populum’: they are the priests and holy men, as he must appear to all of them. Then, ‘dicens magna voce: Timete Deum’, that is, through penance, because he must cause them to do penance for their sins: ‘et date illi honorem’, that is, show them how they must pray: kneeling down, thinking about God devoutly. And why? ‘Quia venit hora iuducii eius’.

(Saint Vincent Ferrer [1934] 1971, pp. 38–39)

None other than the friar summarizes his mission here, referring to the biblical passage Revelation 14:7. As a moral absolutist, he applied the doctrine of terror—depending on his willingness and whether or not the moment was opportune—in order to edify the faithful.17 Though other references to his mission as the messenger of the apocalypse are recorded (Chabás 1903, p. 116), it seems that explicit mention of his vision faded away over the years. There is no trace of it in Lent of 1417 (Perarnau i Espelt 2003).

Even so, for a time, the Dominican friar’s special link to the end of the world was common knowledge. The suspicion Ferrer raised among certain circles of the ecclesiastical elites has been noted (Cátedra García 1994, p. 229). Another source of mistrust, though only for a certain period and with questionable evidence, was his apocalyptic preaching (Daileader 2016, p. 501). For the duration of his “post-vision” career, especially poorly received was the eschatological evidence he provided that was not based on the Holy Scripture, perhaps because some scholars and other observers deemed it no more than a strategy to bolster his discourse. All of this encourages reflection around the historical status granted to the Avignon vision by historiography. As mentioned above, some of the friar’s contemporaries were more receptive to what they saw as the preacher’s tall stories, including men of faith (Rusconi 1978, p. 94). This was not the case for the majority, who devoutly believed Ferrer, much like Ferdinand of Antequera’s informer or the poet Ferrando Manuel de Lando. Though in the latter’s extraordinary dezir to Vincent Ferrer he does not explicitly mention the vision, he does state that the Dominican friar is ‘enviado de Dios glorioso’ [sent by glorious God] and that he ‘biue alunbrado de graçia djuina’ [is illuminated by divine grace]. Perhaps, and only perhaps, these may have been implicit references to the vision.18

4. The Letter to Benedict XIII

The instability of the sermon is diametrically opposed to the categorical nature of the written text. The reason for this is the immutability of the latter. While caution must reign when it comes to drawing conclusions from Ferrer’s homiletic allusions to his Avignon vision, the reliability of the text written by the friar (though no document handwritten and signed by him has been preserved) is hard to refute.

Nonetheless, in terms of written culture, among the Vincentian treatises and epistles, the eschatological theme only abounded in the letter from the friar to Benedict XIII. Very little is written about the apocalypse in “Tractatus de suppositionibus,” “Questio de unitate universalis,” and “Tractatus de moderno ecclesie scismate.” Only the latter (c. 1380) vaguely mentions the arrival of the Antichrist and the end of days, though it seems to be a collateral element used to justify the solution to the Schism (Daileader 2016, pp. 25–26; De Garganta and Forcada 1956, p. 530). The vision had not yet taken place. The experience is not referenced in “De vita spirituali” either (Gorce 1923, p. 4; Robles Sierra 1996, p. 296), a text whose dating and attribution are less than watertight and which features paradoxical reflections on visionaries (Esponera Cerdán 2005, pp. 544, 554). In the missive Ferrer sent to the Master of the Order of Preachers, Juan de Puinoix, on 17 December 1403 (Hodel 2006), no reference is made to the apocalypse or to his vision. For some reason or another (Gaffuri 2006, pp. 108–9; Daileader 2016, p. 49), the concerns communicated by Ferrer to his superior are exclusively earthly, relating to Christian errors which he was trying to correct. He did not write a word about his illness, his miraculous recovery or his new role as a herald of the apocalypse. This coincides at least partly with the document drafted by Friedrich von Amberg months later. When Nicolas of Clémanges, rector of the University of Paris, wrote to Reginaldo Fontanini in 1405 about the impression made by listening to Ferrer in person (Fagês 1903, pp. 166–68), the issue was not mentioned.19 Among the rest of the known letters written by the friar, except for the one sent to Benedict XIII, a passing allusion to the end of days is made only in his response to Ferdinand I, sent from Tamarit on 16 May 1414, about the strange event he had witnessed—the apparition of a cross in the sky over Guadalajara (Martínez Ferrando 1955, pp. 70–71). In summary, apart from the homiletic references put to parchment, the friar’s written allusions to his vision—written in the exculpatory third person—are limited to the epistle of 1412, in which he justified his dedication to apocalyptic preaching.

The letter is a fundamental document (Hodel 2005, 2007). In it, Ferrer explains the grounds for his belief in the existence of the Antichrist and the imminence of the apocalypse to Pope Luna, as Benedict XIII was known. The pontiff demanded to know how and why the friar had dedicated himself to the issue to such a degree. Ferrer produced a justification in the form of an instrument, in which everything he wrote was to be measured and polished, with no space for hesitation.

The tremendous dissemination of the epistle is a subject that requires examination. One of the reasons why it spread so widely was its delivery to the Order of Preachers General Chapter, held in Fribourg in 1419 (Hodel 2005, p. 78), through which it was passed on to other Dominican houses. It may have even transcended that sphere. On top of around twenty recorded copies of it in Latin from the fifteenth century, many are the signs that the opuscule travelled far and wide. Around the same time as reproductions were made in the original Latin, it was translated into Catalan (Cátedra García 1984, pp. 270–71; Betí Bonfill 1922, p. 134) and Castilian (Rubio Leal 2016). It is fair to assume that the text frequently escaped convent walls. One reference to the letter, already mentioned in this article, is particularly interesting because it is made by mestre Vicent himself:

Everyone wishes to know when it will come, and I do not think I should give a sermon on it, as I have already written a treatise on it to the Pope, so turn to it and you will know, as many in this city already have it. There you will see the facts. And you see why I do not preach about it, because the justification is there.

(Saint Vincent Ferrer 1988, p. 230)

Daileader (2016, p. 131) points out a significant change in Ferrer’s preaching of the apocalypse after he sent the epistle to Benedict XIII. Though difficult to verify, it is compatible with another argument, namely the astonishing way that the letter spread. With important nuances to be discussed, could the epistle sent to Pedro de Luna have become a sort of polished sermon available to anyone who wanted (and was educated enough) to find out more about the arrival of the Antichrist and, therefore, about the Avignon vision?

A few years before, the jurats, or jurors, of Valencia commissioned copies of the first, second, third and twelfth books of Lo Crestià by Eiximenis, and even left some in the Casa de la Ciutat’s Sala del Consell, “so that they could be read and studied by some as doctrine and education” (Ivars 1925, p. 326). Various works by the Franciscan were copied and translated, by both institutions and individuals (Massó Torrents 1910, pp. 3–9; Madurell i Marimon 1968, p. 305). Could something similar have happened with the Vincentian opuscule? Some process must have occurred for the letter to be within reach of the people of Valencia or Zaragoza (Perarnau i Espelt 1989) so soon after it was written.20 Another indication of the dissemination of the letter not mentioned by Hodel, which may have brought it into new spheres, is related to the third medium of medieval communication—images. Before taking a closer look, let us examine how Ferrer described his vision to Benedict XIII in his letter:

In the second place the same conclusion is drawn from a certain other revelation (a most certain one to my mind), made just over fifteen years ago to a religious of the Dominican Order. This religious was very ill indeed and was praying lovingly to God for his recovery so, that he might again preach the word of God as he had been wont to do with great fervour and ardour. At last, while he was at prayer, these two saints appeared to him as in a dream, at the feet of Christ making great supplication. At length, after they had prayed thus for a long while, Christ rose and, with one on either side, came down to this same religious lying on his bed. Then Christ, touching him caressingly with the finger of His most holy hand, gave him a most definite interior comprehension that, in imitation of these saints, he must go through the world preaching as the Apostles had done, and that He, Christ, would mercifully await this preaching for the conversion and correction of mankind, before the coming of Antichrist. At once, at the touch of Christ’s fingers, the aforesaid religious rose up entirely cured of his sickness. As he diligently followed the apostolic mission divinely committed to him, Providence, in testimony of the truth, gave this religious, not only numerous signs as he had given Moses, but also the authority of the divine Scriptures as he had given John the Baptist since, because of the difficulty of this mission and the slight weight of his own unaided testimony, he was greatly in need of help. Hence, of the three divine messengers sent to men by divine Providence under the name of angels, many persons believe him to be the first, of whom John has written: ‘And I saw another angel flying through the midst of heaven having the eternal gospel to preach to them that sit upon the earth and over every nation and tongue and tribe and people, saying with a loud voice: “Fear the Lord and give Him honor, because the hour of His judgement is come”’. Let him who is able understand.

(San Vicente Ferrer 2006, pp. 559–60)

The text does not specify whether the visionary is a Franciscan or a Dominican friar, representing a return to the trend seen in Ferrer’s sermons from just before he wrote the letter. At that time, as reported months prior by the “spy” to Ferdinand of Antequera, the people believed that the preacher was referring to himself. With this in mind, how could the Pope—still his friend at the time—be unaware of this? In any case, the context in which the letter was written was very different from the circumstances around his assumed first sermon on the subject, in Montpellier in 1408. There are some other divergences, but they are less relevant. While in Montpellier, the sermon “Reminiscamini quia ego dixi vobis” drifts towards another theme favoured by the friar—namely “Erunt signa in sole” (under the authority of the Gospel and of beatus Gregorius)—in the epistle, Ferrer refers to Divine Providence and the Holy Scripture to justify his new role after his recovery. One of Ferrer’s most striking uses of Holy Scripture is his reference to the passage that, decades later, Callixtus III, Pietro Ranzano and Martial Auribelli would choose to accompany the image of the new saint (Calvé Mascarell 2016, pp. 408–29), documented for the first time in the Montpellier sermon. While on this first occasion, he quoted Revelation 14:6–7 as an introduction to a Franciscan friar’s vision, in the letter (where there is little room for error), the story of the miraculously cured friar is linked to the well-known biblical reference in order to bolster his argument. For some, the preacher in the vision is the first messenger to warn of the end of the world and one of the angels of the apocalypse, sent to command the people to fear the Lord. Out of the cases discussed here, only the Toledo sermon omits this biblical passage.21

When the Avignon vision, as narrated in the French city in 1408, and the version described in the letter are compared, a fundamental concordance emerges, namely the divine legitimation: Christ’s caress of the friar’s face (Montpellier sermon), jaw (epistle in Latin), or cheek (Catalan version of the letter). As mentioned, this is omitted in the Toledo sermon. In fact, in the latter translation, fragments of which have been published (Betí Bonfill 1922, pp. 134–36), other slight variations of the original text appear. These could, perhaps, be attributed to the work of the medieval translator.

Tying together all of the above, could there have been a Catalan version of the letter available for ‘public’ consultation of some sort during Ferrer’s lifetime? He seemed to imply this when he refused to preach about the end of days. It is clear that the letter brought the account of the vision to a new level of transcendence. The sermons, many of which were aimed at a heterogeneous audience, were subject to modifications in terms of execution and interpretation, but the epistle—written to the Pope and, extraordinarily, available to many others—was nothing short of lapidary. For a time, this was the official version of the vision. Nonetheless, the letter does not resolve the core issue; the dilemma surrounding Ferrer’s use of the third person still remains. Who was the protagonist of the vision? To whom did readers think the document referred? The last reliable, literal, explicit evidence of this identification of Ferrer as the sickly preacher cured by Christ would come some years later, through painting and writing. The frescoes in Macello, Piedmont, were painted more than two decades before the major transformation Ranzano would undertake in the context of the friar’s canonization (1455), by stating for future Christians that it was Ferrer who had the vision. The place where he chose to do so was none other than the official vita of the new saint (Ranzano 1866, pp. 489–90).22 By then, Vincent Ferrer’s vision would have lost its original meaning in relation to the Schism. Vincent Ferrer implicitly invoked for the Avignon obedience the imagery of divine illumination, much used by Catherine of Siena in the Roman obedience. The fact that Vincent Ferrer placed himself alongside Saint Dominic and Saint Francis might suggest a desire to transcend the traditional loyalties of one order against another.

5. Duce’s Painting and the Transformation of Narrative as a Paradigm of the Three Media of Medieval Communication

Though little known for a host of reasons, various figurative representations of Vincent Ferrer’s vision were made in the fifteenth century. The oldest was produced in Valencia, when Ferrer was still alive. In late 1414 and early 1415, a float known as “L’entramès de mestre Vicent” was seen in up to three processions (Calvé Mascarell 2019) (Figure 1).23

The props known to be used indicate that this particular tableau vivant showed a synthesis of apocalyptic scenes and evocations, including the friar’s vision itself, which was staged in a space specially created for the artefact and referred to by way of clarification in documentation as “la setla de mestre Vicent” (Father Vincent’s cell). This object, which has now disappeared, was the physical materialization of the identification of the friar as the protagonist of the vision while he was still alive. It was designed based on Ferrer’s letter and his preaching in Valencia during Lent of 1413. After the canonization, in a contract dated 1459, Ramón Gonsalbo was commissioned to paint an altarpiece (not preserved) for the Dominican church in Urgell (Madurell i Marimon 1945, p. 280), which was to include, among the various images of the saint: “the fourth at the moment of death, when Jesus Christ, Saint Dominic, and Saint Francis appear to him, dies vade predicta verbum Dei, quare aduch spectabo te.” The last four words of this excerpt form the contract point to the hypothesis that the patron took Ranzano’s vita (which includes a similar phrase, namely “vade, adhuc te spectabo”) and not the original letter as a reference for the vision. Still preserved today is the representation of the episode—or a similar event—in a piece created around 1470–1480, which is also linked to the matter of the omission of Saints Francis and Dominic mentioned briefly above, as it draws from the side panel of Colantonio’s polyptych (now kept in the Museo di Capodimonte in Naples). The panel depicting the apparition of Christ to Saint Vincent Ferrer, today housed at Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum, belonged to the dismantled Saint Vincent Ferrer altarpiece attributed to the Erri workshop.

From 1414 onwards, figurative production undoubtedly consolidated Vincent Ferrer’s vision. Linked to the friar’s preaching tour, this conceptual consolidation through images would spread across borders in no time, even before his canonization. The Macello frescoes, painted between the production of the float in Valencia and the far-reaching iconographic repercussions of his canonization, are proof of this.

Compared to the other two channels of communication—and beyond the commissioners’ ability, or lack thereof, to make use of these representations for proselytizing purposes—the figurative element could be singled out as the most significant for the masses. In this regard, along with the Valencian float, the Vincentian cycle preserved in Macello is key for understanding the impact of the friar’s vision on what would be defined, though with many nuances, as the collective imaginary (Brizio 1942, p. 6; Kovalevsky 2002), as neither of the two products was aimed exclusively at the elites. Though it is true that Ferrer’s sermons also stirred the masses, the hic et nunc aspect meant that the impact of his preaching in the medium term was uncertain (Narbona Vizcaíno 2018), as the friar himself explained rather biasedly (Chabás 1902, p. 136). By contrast, for centuries, the image in Macello provided—and still provides, to some extent—the opportunity to revive what it represents: his vision and his preaching. In terms of the former, the frescoes immortalize something that jars somewhat when a comparison is made to the bulk of the sermons and to the letter.

Ferrer preached in Macello and the surrounding area on at least two occasions, including in Vigone, barely four kilometers from the chapel that houses the frescoes, in November 1402 and July 1407. These two visits played a fundamental part in assimilating his memory in the area.24 As suggested previously, his narration of the vision did not seem to feature during those campaigns. Furthermore, the letter’s ultimate influence as a source to inspire the Macello paintings is clear, as they include transcriptions of excerpts of the epistle.

In the case of the Valencian entremès, some years prior, sermons and literature had worked together in unison. As for Macello, it is possible that the commissioning party had access to a collection of the friar’s sermons that included his account of the vision. They may also have heard it straight from Ferrer’s own mouth during a campaign, but the literal reproduction of part of the letter on the wall makes the epistle the primary source.

There is no sign of any explanation as to how the letter reached the town. Certain circles or individuals may have brought it within reach of the Solaro family, who were lords of Macello and commissioned the frescoes. One of the most noteworthy of these possible intermediaries was the Carthusian monk Johannes Placentis. During the process of canonizing Vincent Ferrer (1453–1454), he declared that, around 1403, he had heard the friar preach in the Carthusian monastery of Pierre-Châtel, in Savoyard lands. In 1413, he led an embassy for Count Amadeus VIII of Savoy to consult Boniface and Vincent Ferrer regarding their stance on the Schism. Placentis stayed in the Valencian charterhouse of Portacoeli for six weeks before departing with Peter and Boniface Ferrer, Vincent’s brothers. Funded by Benedict XIII, he went to Mallorca in search of mestre Vicent. Upon arrival, he accompanied the friar “for 12 days, he thinks” (Fuster Perelló 2007, p. 426).25 Placentis later represented Amadeus VIII at the Council of Basel (Lundell 1996), during which the first vita of Ferrer was written by Nider, containing information very similar to what the Carthusian monk would later disclose about Ferrer in the canonization inquiries (Chène 2006, pp. 147–48). There are more connections pertaining to the relationship between Ferrer and Placentis (Ammann and Morenzoni 2019, pp. 44–47) within the complex situation Amadeus VIII faced in Piedmont due to his new dukedom and later papacy (Gaffuri 2020, 2021). In summary, Placentis spent time with the future saint: a privileged position from which he could acquire a copy of the letter and become closer to Amadeus of Savoy. Continuing with this speculative tone, one final point is left to tackle. Amadeus VIII was the Duke of Savoy from 1416 to 1440, and an admirer of Ferrer, but he was not a Solaro.26 Another loyal advisor to the duke was, however: Giovanni Caterino Solaro, uncle (Bertolotto et al. 2011, p. 26) or brother (Treccani 2019) of Bonifacio II Solaro, the first Count of Macello invested by Amadeus VIII in 1419 and husband to the commissioner of the paintings. Though this proposed route for the circulation of the tractat may be speculative, the iconographic quality of the paintings is unquestionable.

The apse of the Santa Maria Assunta chapel is home to a complex fresco cycle from the Late Middle Ages (Griseri 1965, p. 134; Monetti 1978a, 1978b; Di Macco 1979; Kaftal 1985; Baiocco et al. 2003, pp. 117–19; Kovalevsky 2002; Bertolotto et al. 2011; Calvé Mascarell 2016, pp. 323–35; 2020) (Figure 2).

Restored in various campaigns since 1966,27 the most noteworthy scenes are those that depict Vincent Ferrer, then a lay brother. Citing formal values, experts coincide in concluding that all of the Vincentian frescoes were produced under the same creative driving force, before his canonization, around a specific date: 1429. The fact that the friar never appears with a halo and that he is accompanied by the word “beatus” indicates that they were painted before 1455. The work is attributed to Aymo Duce, commissioned by the Countess of Macello, Benvenuta Solaro.28 The representation of the Virgin and Child on the central part of the upper register on the left-hand wall includes a rather specific inscription: “M CCCC XX VIIII Bena de Solario ad laudem Dei et Virginis marie feciet pingi hanc figuram” (Figure 3).29

Of the three scenes where Ferrer appears, I will examine the two that reproduce excerpts of the letter in most detail here, with a special focus on the vision. The third scene (the least significant for this study’s purposes) will be presented first. On the middle wall of the chancel is a reference to the future saint healing a child (Figure 4), which proves how, many years before he was canonized, popular knowledge of his miracle-working capabilities had already spread far and wide.30

At the Dominican friar’s feet was a scroll with the following text referring to a healing in extremis, now faded and illegible: “Hoc est sicut Virgo Maria precibus beati Vincencii quendam puerum qui quaxi mortuus erat liberavit […] a […]” (Monetti 1978b, p. 389).

The lunette on the right-hand wall is where the two scenes with Vincent Ferrer as the protagonist appear, accompanied by the aforementioned fragments of text. Each of them is framed and adjacent to the other, but the bottom part where the connection was made between them suffered irreparable losses (Figure 5).

The part closest to the wall behind the altar features an extraordinary figuration of Vincent Ferrer’s vision (Figure 6).

In the painting, there is no room for interpretation. It is the future saint who experiences the vision, not another representative of the Dominican order, and certainly not a Franciscan friar. While the previous image, as mentioned, includes a now-illegible scroll identifying beatus Vincentius as the healer of the child, in this scene, restorers have replaced part of a specific reference to the protagonist of this mystic experience.31

Excluding the identification of the protagonist (a matter that is far from insignificant), the image is remarkably faithful to what was included in the letter to Benedict XIII. It also reproduces the content of the sermons, always with the exception of that troublesome Franciscan friar of unknown age, the mention of whom, in Montpellier, encouraged prayer to Saint Francis. In the painting, Jesus Christ, Saint Francis and Saint Dominic approach the bed where a dying friar lies, and now there is no question: it is Vincent Ferrer. As recounted in the letter and in some of the sermons explored here, Christ touches the friar’s face gently, thus curing him.32 This is a direct reproduction of how the epistle describes the vision, though the words that refer to it barely fit in the painting.

Surprisingly, a trio of angels presents most of the text on four banderoles located in the upper part of the image. Though a stretch, they could represent the three angels of the apocalypse mentioned in the letter, but only one of them bears the correct text for this interpretation. Paradoxically, the image of the angels is a better match for the account given in 1455 in Ferrer’s vita (Ranzano 1866, p. 489), which tells of Christ and the two saints descending, accompanied by angels. What is striking is that this detail does not appear in the analyzed sermons or in the letter, which raises new questions about the dissemination of the story, as the Ranzano text had not yet been written. A simple narrative solution must not be ruled out.

Each of the three upper banderoles is held by the corresponding angel,33 while the first, the bottom one, could have been accompanied by another angel. Given the relevance of the text, this angel may have emerged from the figure of Christ. The fragments of text reproduced in the vision represent little more than 1% of the opuscule: around 100 words. It would be frivolous to suggest that such a careful selection—essentially, two brief passages from the letter—was made at random. What is more, these are the two stories narrated consistently from Montpellier onwards.34 As we will see, the concatenation of these two passages constitutes a new link in the chain encircling the genesis of Vincent Ferrer’s image.

The comparison of the texts reproduced in Macello with the letter to Benedict XIII had already been made (Monetti 1978b), based on an old edition (Teoli 1738, pp. 520–28). I repeated the exercise (Calvé Mascarell 2020) using a more current edition (San Vicente Ferrer 2006, pp. 552–62). Using this edition, the text on the vision preserved in the frescoes, in the left column, will be compared to the copy of the letter in the right-hand column. The arrangement of the text reproduced in the left-hand column corresponds to the distribution of lines of text in the Macello frescoes, with the same alignment as the original. The order in which the four registers are to be read is upside down; the banderole assigned as the first is the at the bottom, the second is immediately above, and so on. This way, the reading order that corresponds to the original source, the tractat, is obtained.

In the same vein as other works attributed to Duce and his circle, the frescoes adopt formulas for combining text and images used notably by Dominicans, offering an end product with an incalculable impact. This is visible in every one of the banderoles. From the second to the fourth, the order in which they are to be read is provided (primus, secundus and tercius); the absence of any indication for the first highlights its particular importance (

Table 1. Textual comparison, banderole 1 in the vision of beatus Vincentius.

Text from the Frescoes in Macello	Text from the Epistle to Benedict XIII *
(V)ade et p(re)dica per mo(ndum) a	religioso infirmo, quod ipse iret per mundum apostolice predicando
(quemad)modum isti duo fecerunt (ut)	quemadmodum praedicti sancti fecerant et
(convertes) eum ante adventum antichristi	sic eius predicationem ante adventum Antichristi ad conversionem

* Text from the epistle to Benedict XIII: “(His most holy hand) gave him a most definite interior comprehension that, in imitation of these saints, he must go through the world preaching as the Apostles had done, and that He, Christ, would mercifully await this preaching for the conversion and correction of mankind, before the coming of Antichrist.”.

).

In fact, the crux of the matter lies in this banderole closest to Christ and Ferrer, as it reproduces the divine exhortation that brings the healing to completion, the reason behind the miracle. Ferrer must preach around the world, just as Saint Francis and Saint Dominic did. The poor state of conservation makes it impossible to verify, but the content and the lack of information on the reading order support the hypothesis of a banderole associated with the figure of Christ, thus consolidating the comic-like appearance.

Though the image depicts the whole vision, the text nearest to the protagonists specifically evokes the consequence: the friar’s new mission to preach the arrival of the Antichrist. It is no coincidence that the adjacent image is of Ferrer preaching, nor is it by chance that the part of the letter about the Antichrist is chosen for the preaching scene, especially as this selection requires a significant jump in the text.

The second banderole is carried by an angel at the foot of the bed (

Table 2. Textual comparison, banderole 2 in the vision of beatus Vincentius.

Text from the Frescoes in Macello	Text from the Epistle to Benedict XIII *
Primus: Uti religioxo (commisam) sibi divinitus (legationem) apostolicam non solum si(gna pl)urima ut	Cui religioso comissam sibi divinitus legationem apostolicam diligenter exempti divina providentia, non solum signa plurima ut
Moysy sed eciam auctoritatem divin(ae Script)ure ut Johannis tribuit in	Moysy, sed etiam auctoritatem divine Scripture ut Iohanni Babtiste, tribuit in
testimonium veritatis nam propter arduit(atem) negocii datum (f)uit	testimonium veritatis, nam, propter arduitatem negotii et propter parvitatem sui testimoniis, plurium indigebat.

* Text from the epistle to Benedict XIII: “As he diligently followed the apostolic mission divinely committed to him, Providence, in testimony of the truth, gave this religious, not only numerous signs as he had given Moses, but also the authority of the divine Scriptures as he had given John the Baptist since, because of the difficulty of this mission and the slight weight of his own unaided testimony, he was greatly in need of help.”

). It reproduces the justification for the apostolic legatus conferred upon the protagonist of the vision by Divine Providence, which authorized him to perform signs, and by the Holy Scripture.

The third banderole continues the familiar story (

Table 3. Textual comparison, banderole 3 in the vision of beatus Vincentius.

Text from the Frescoes in Macello	Text from the Epistle to Benedict XIII *
Secundus: unde de tribus predicatoribus successive mittendis divinitus ad homines sub n(ominibus Angelo)rum	Unde de 3bus predicatoribus succesive mittendis divinitus ad homines ante diem iuditii sub nominibus angelorum,
ut habetur apoca(lipsys) (cº.) XIIII hic per nonnullos sicure cre(ditur ese ille primus de) quo Ioannes dicebat	ut habetur Apoc 14, [6,7], ipse per nonnullos secure creditur esse ille primus de quo Iohannes dicebat:

* Text from the epistle to Benedict XIII: “Hence, of the three divine messengers sent to men by divine Providence under the name of angels, many persons believe him to be the first, of whom John said.”

) from both the letter and the sermons (except in Toledo), in line with many people’s perception of the cured friar: he was the first preacher who, prefigured in the form of the first angel described by John of Patmos, came to warn of the end of days.35 Observers of the sermon in Toledo did not hear this parallel being drawn, but they were told that the friar’s role was the same as that of the preachers in the Old Testament who foresaw disasters.

The fourth banderole is a transliteration of the passage from Revelation (

Table 4. Textual comparison, banderole 4 in the vision of beatus Vincentius.

Text from the Frescoes in Macello	Text from the Epistle to Benedict XIII *
Tercius: et vidi alterum Angelum volantem per medium ce(li ha)bentem evang(e)lium	“Et vidi alterum angelum volantem per medium celi, habentem Evangelium
eternum ut evangelizaret sedentibus super terram et tri(bum et lingu)a et populum dice(n)s	eternum, ut evangelizaret sedentibus super terram, et super omnem gentem, et tribum, et linguam, et populum: dicens
voce magna timete dominum et date illi honorem quia (venit h)ora (i)udicii eius qui potest capere capia(t)	magna voce: Timete Dominum, et date illi honorem, quia venit hora iuditii eius” etc. Qui potest capere capiat.

* Text from the epistle to Benedict XIII: “And I saw another angel flying through the midst of heaven, having the eternal gospel, to preach unto them that sit upon the earth, and over every nation, and tribe, and tongue, and people: Saying with a loud voice: ‘Fear the Lord, and give him honour, because the hour of his judgement is come,’ etc. Let him who is able understand.”

), with the final sentence that would become Ferrer’s trademark, “Timete Deum, et date illi honorem, quia venit hora iudicii eius,” and a warning to anyone with sense.

The overall scene provides an extraordinary summary of the paranormal event, offering a series of representations and links that cannot be expressed in text alone. The healing of the friar and the textual allusion to him as the first of the three preachers of the apocalypse and an angel sent to announce the Last Judgement are expressed in one image. This was to be expected, given the constant convergences of these elements in the sermons and in the letter. However, they are rendered even more indivisible in the painting, where both elements share the same space, in a coming together of the earthly and the heavenly. What witnesses to Ferrer’s sermon heard from his own mouth and what readers learnt via the scribes who copied the friar’s letter was now being expressed by other protagonists: the angels (who were not mentioned in the sermons nor in the letter to Benedict) and, seemingly, Jesus Christ himself. This becomes all the more relevant with a glance at the adjacent image; in the preaching scene, Ferrer is depicted as the disseminator of another part of his own epistle.

Ferrer, the orator and writer who always tells the story of the vision in the third person, turns into the protagonist of the episode in the painting, while his own words (written, but expressed in a similar way) are delivered by third parties, all in a celestial scene. This is a complex transformation that made the intangible visible and introduced new particularities, as well as telling a story that would surely be staggering, if not disconcerting, for someone who had heard Ferrer’s sermon in Montpellier.

Located adjacently on the western side of the same wall is the scene with the Valencian friar preaching, in the presence of the highest echelons of the Church, educated men, and the masses (Figure 7).

The image has been defined as La prédication de Vincent Ferrier devant Benoît XIII (Kovalevsky 2002, p. 204), despite the absence of the usual representation of a monarch post-canonization, mentioned in another clause of the contract with Ramón Gonsalbo (Madurell i Marimon 1945, p. 280).36 Among those listening is a Franciscan reportator. This is unsurprising, given what has been noted regarding Friedrich von Amberg. Ferrer, referred to as Clarus Vincentius on the sign on the pulpit from which he is preaching, receives divine grace from a dove. The symbol only appears sporadically in subsequent images of Saint Vincent Ferrer.37 In this case, it seems to signify the Holy Spirit inspiring his words, approving the Son’s divine touch in the adjacent image and confirming Lando’s description of Ferrer as alunbrado de graçia djuina.

The vision alone consists of an accumulation of supernatural circumstances, but the preaching scene includes another miracle: among those gathered, an individual held by his back is presented to the Dominican friar, who frees the possessed man with his words. There is no explicit reference to this power in Lando’s representation, though some sort of loose allusion to it was made by one of Ferrer’s contemporaries around 1408–1409 (D’Arenys 1975, p. 43). This type of exorcism or healing ritual, frequently depicted in the saint’s iconography later on, was the friar’s only recognized miracle—besides his divine inspiration—in both Martín Alpartil’s references to Ferrer between 1430 and 1440 and the biographical outline of his life written by Nider around 1437, neither of whom mention the vision (De Alpartil 1994, p. 151; Chène 2006). Without being able to assess John V’s vanished compilation of miracles or the incalculable weight of popular devotion, perhaps the key to interpreting this image ultimately lies in the opuscule Ferrer sent to Benedict XIII. As usual, Ferrer used the third person in his narration, this time referring to a fellow Dominican friar:

In many parts of the world, I have seen many persons possessed by the devil, who were brought to one of the priests of our company for exorcism. When the priest began to exorcise them they spoke openly of the time of Antichrist, in accordance with what has already been said, crying out loudly and terribly so that all the bystanders could hear them, and declaring that they were forced by Christ and against their own will and malice, to reveal to men the truth as given above, so that they might save themselves by true penance.

(San Vicente Ferrer 2006, p. 561)

The process is identical. From an original account in which Ferrer is not the protagonist, the subject is modified to place him at the centre, in a transformation not highlighted in other studies (Calvé Mascarell 2016, pp. 331–32). It is not the text cited above that is displayed on the enormous scroll signaled by the friar to those listening to his sermon, in a gesture that tells anyone viewing the fresco that those words come from his mouth (though they actually came from his quill), and that partly evokes a scene experienced twice by the area’s inhabitants. This other selected section of the letter is less than 160 words long, and is reproduced in the frescoes in the same order as in the epistle (

Table 5. Textual comparison, scroll in the scene depicting beatus Vincentius preaching.

Text from the Frescoes in Macello	Text from the Epistle to Benedict XIII *
(Unde co)lligitur	Unde ex omnibus supradictis colligere
(in m)ente mea opi	in mente mea oppi-
(nio) et credencia (veri)	nio et credentia veri
(si)milis (licet) non sce(n)c (ia certa et)	similis, licet non scientia certa, et
(pre)dicabilis de na(tivitate antichristi)	praedicabilis de nativitate Antichristi iam transacta per 9 annos.
Attamen (dictam?) conclu(sionem quae dicit quod cito)	Attamen, predictam conclusionem que dicit quod cito et bene cito,
ac valde breviter e(runt tempus antichristi et finis Mundi)	ac valde breviter, erunt tempus Antichristi et finis Mundi certitudinaliter
vidi secure ac s(ecure praedico u)bique	ac secure predico ubique.
domino chuoperante et (sermonem confirmante se)quentibus signis.	Domino cooperante et sermonem confirmante sequentibus signis:
Verum dominus noster yhs x(st)us presciens hanc doctrinam	Verum, Dominus noster Iesus Christus, presciens hanc doctrinam
sive concluxionem ab amatoribus huius mundi sive carnalibus	seu conclusionem ab amatoribus huius mundi et carnalibus
(per)sonis minime recipendiam, dicebat luce XVII edebant	personis minime recipiendam, dicebat, Lc capitulo 17, [26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32]: “Sicut factum est in diebus Noe, ita erit in diebus Filii hominis. Edebant
(et b)ibebant uxores duceb(an)t et dabantur ad nupcias unque in diem qua	et bibebant: uxores ducebant et dabantur ad nuptias, usque in diem, qua
Noe (in)travit in archam (s)imi(li)ter sicut factum fuit in diebus Lot, (ita) erit in diebus	intravit Noe in archam: et venit diluvium, et perdidit omnes. Similiter sicut factum est in diebus Loth: Edebant et bibebant, emebant et vendebant, plantabant, et edificabant:
filii hominis	qua die autem exivit Loth a Sodomis, pluit ignem, et sulfur de celo, et omnes perdidit: secundum hec erit qua die Filius hominis revelabitur.

* Text from the epistle to Benedict XIII: “From all that has been said above, I hold the opinion, which I think to be well founded, though not sufficiently proven for me to preach it, that nine years have already elapsed since the birth of Antichrist. But this I do preach with certitude and security, the Lord confirming my word by many signs, that in an exceedingly short time will come the reign of Antichrist and the end of the world. Our Lord Jesus Christ, foreknowing that this doctrine will be unacceptable to carnal persons and the lovers of this world, said in the Gospel of Saint Luke (17:26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32): ‘And it came to pass in the days of Noah, so shall it also be in the days of the Son of Man. They did eat and drink and they married wives and were given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all’. The same thing happened in the days of Lot; they ate and drank, they bought and sold, they planted and built. On the day that Lot left Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven and all were destroyed. This will happen on the day when the Son of Man shall be revealed.”

). It is the declaration of Ferrer’s conviction, non scientia certa, that the Antichrist was coming, and therefore the end of the world was imminent. This is an excerpt located in the conclusion to the opuscule, and therefore does not continue on directly from the text quoted from the original letter in the adjacent image of the vision.

The aforementioned discontinuity in the texts taken from the epistle for the images in Macello, as well as the unique visual adaptation which was carried out, represent a vindication of the power of images. In the vision scene, the words spoken by Christ take centre stage (“Vade et predica per mondum a quemadmodum isti duo fecerunt ut convertes eum ante adventum antichristi”), while the preaching scene depicts the fulfilment of the divine command. Ferrer preaches his belief that the time of the Antichrist is imminent, obeying Christ’s instructions. It is worth emphasizing that, in the letter, there is a considerable amount of text between the two selected fragments (including up to three conclusions with their corresponding explanations), which, to some extent, makes it more difficult to distinguish the friar as the messenger of the apocalypse, ordered by Christ to warn of the arrival of His nemesis. One of the conclusions omitted is precisely the reference to exorcisms, as there was no room for the text, but it was painted instead. Duce’s frescoes offer an intuitive, incontrovertible result. Ferrer is the only protagonist of all the events, even in the thaumaturgical phenomena, which are harmoniously incorporated into the frescoes in an original manner. There is a world between what is expressed in the Montpellier sermon and what is reflected in Santa Maria Assunta. This world was built first from sermons that, unbeknownst to Ferrer when he gave them, would be shaped into an epistle in 1412. That letter would, in part, be manipulated and transformed into a visual representation by the intellectual promoters of the Macello cycle. Unequivocally and for posterity, Duce’s frescoes attested that Christ had chosen Vincent Ferrer.

6. Conclusions

In the Late Middle Ages, the vision, as a cultural construct, is the result of a set of overlapping elements that can rarely be studied together. The case of Vincent Ferrer’s vision in Avignon is an extraordinary example of this. With all due precautions taken, I have analyzed and linked together sources from each medium of medieval expression. From 1408 at the latest, Ferrer preached about a friar on his death bed miraculously cured by Christ, who would command him to warn of the arrival of the Antichrist in order to change the ways of Christians. The evolution of his sermons suggests that those who were present to hear them were left with different perceptions regarding the real protagonist of the theophany, which seemed not to be addressed as thoroughly in the initial campaigns.38 For the congregation at his sermon in Montpellier, the visionary was a Franciscan friar: the account of the miraculous recovery of a “frater minor” (of an unspecified age) prayed for by Saint Francis, on the very eve of his feast day, ruled Ferrer out as the protagonist. In subsequent campaigns, the friar at the centre of the vision may have been of the Franciscan or the Dominican order; nonetheless, many who heard Ferrer’s sermons between 1411 and 1414 deduced that the preacher was referring to himself, partly thanks to the nuances he provided on some occasions. This coincides with the report sent to Ferdinand of Antequera. The fantastical nature of the friar’s preaching also generated resistance.

There is no question of Ferrer’s insistence on highlighting the mission assigned to the friar in question by Christ. In every one of his homiletic interventions, the visionary’s miraculous recovery and his apocalyptic preaching go hand in hand. In this regard, any improvisation characteristic of oral communication is negligible. Crucially, in all cases examined here, except in Toledo, the unifying thread for the accounts of the medieval preacher’s vision is Rev 14:6–7: a biblical reference Ferrer used almost exclusively to discuss the ecstasy episode, thus binding the biblical quotes to what was assumed to be his experience (at least in the eyes of many believers between 1411 and 1414). This way, he prepared the breeding ground for his own image, though it was recovered and given new meaning decades later by others in light of newly emerged interests. One of the most intriguing issues surrounding Vincentian iconography is whether or not Ferrer would have approved of the official, post-canonization image of an apocalyptic preacher. The answer would likely be affirmative if the question were posed between 1411 and 1414.

Ferrer prepared and drafted the letter in the period during which he was viewed as the friar in the vision. Perhaps this is why Benedict XIII demanded an explanation from him. This justification, expanded upon with signs, biblical references and other religious texts, does not resolve the key issue: the use of the third person. In the epistle, he once again states that a sickly, religious man experienced the theophany and was commanded to prepare humanity for the end of days. He does not clarify whether or not it is him, though at the end of the letter, he concludes that, for all the reasons he has detailed, he has been preaching about the imminent apocalypse for years. In other words, he takes on the mission received by the friar in the vision.

A direct product of that letter written in Alcañiz (1412) and Ferrer’s preachings during Lent in 1413 in Valencia is L’entramès de mestre Vicent (1414), which certainly referenced the Dominican friar’s ecstasy in his cell in Avignon. All of this took place under the watchful eye of Benedict XIII, Ferdinand I of Aragon (who received reports on the subject from 1411 onwards), and his son Alfonso the Magnanimous, as well as other important figures within the Church and the monarchy. The Macello frescoes, meanwhile, must be associated with the letter exclusively, based on their literal reproduction of it and on the time that had passed since the preacher’s last campaign in the area. The dissemination of the epistle on the end of the world and the Antichrist written to Benedict XIII was exceptional, as implied by Ferrer himself in his sermons, resulting in an extraordinary scenario in which an astonishingly successful opuscule somehow reached the intellectual patrons of Santa Maria Assunta in Macello. As a conduit for the letter, I have speculatively proposed the trio of Johannes Placentis, Amadeus VIII, and Giovanni Caterino Solaro.

More decisive for the purposes of this article is the analysis of the Carthusian monk’s testimony during the canonization process. In his declaration, he alludes to exorcisms, healing miracles and an alleged mediation to prevent a ship from sinking, Astonishingly, he replaces the Avignon vision with something rather more simple and human: the friar’s anger towards Benedict XIII.39 According to Placentis, this was the real reason for Ferrer’s new life as an evangelical—rather than apocalyptic—preacher. Like Nider, the Carthusian monk either knew nothing about the vision or neglected to mention it. Given that Placentis was at Ferrer’s side during the time when his apocalyptic discourse—or at least popular reception of the message—was at its zenith, a possible explanation is a self-interested silence: the polar opposite of the representations in the Santa Maria Assunta frescoes.

Unlike the Valencian float, whose disappearance makes hypothesizing the only way forward, these surviving paintings are a demonstration of the power of the visual. The miraculous healing of an unknown Franciscan friar narrated in Montpellier is unambiguously transformed, like in the case of the 1414 entramès, into Vincent Ferrer’s vision. This was intended by the commissioner of the frescoes, a representative of civil authority who, perhaps, aimed to put across a legitimizing message through the paintings, featuring images of a familiar future saint alongside the patrons’ heraldry.

The concatenation of the scenes of the vision and of the preaching produced by Duce evokes an association similar to that seen in the sermons, which were more spontaneous than the epistle, as the latter featured supporting holy texts more heavily. Ultimately, this succession is the product of a clever choice of texts, as it required significant jumps in the letter. The result confirms the information received by Ferdinand of Antequera from his informant: Ferrer was the old man healed by Christ who went on to preach the imminence of the apocalypse.

The sermons and the letter are subject to interpretation by third parties. The Santa Maria Assunta paintings in Macello, meanwhile, offer irrefutable, unprecedented certainty for anyone who contemplates them: Ferrer’s actual name, both on the sick bed of the Dominican friar experiencing the vision and on the pulpit from which he gives a sermon on the arrival of the Antichrist, obeying the divine command received in the previous image. These frescoes profoundly transformed the original account told in Montpellier and its subsequent versions, narrated both in the other documented sermons and in the letter, into a new story that would go on to become a permanent part of the history and legend of the Dominican friar40: Vincent Ferrer’s vision.