Disputations and lectures were the twin pillars of academic teaching in the early modern period.1 In sixteenth-century Europe students and professors of all subjects defended their theses in public disputations. These academic events were usually chaired by a praeses who sat at a lectern slightly higher than the others.2 In the German university system, the dean of the candidate’s faculty as well as two professors joined the praeses, and together the scholars challenged the candidate by asking him questions.3 In addition, professors and students in the audience were permitted to contradict the candidate.
In Basel, medical disputations had to follow a tight protocol which defined the respondent’s behaviour in great detail.4 At the start of the disputation the candidate had to welcome the audience and briefly present his theses. He then had to listen to the contra arguments and refute them respectfully. At the end of the disputation, usually no later than eleven o’clock in the morning, the respondent had to thank the audience. If the candidate failed to obey any of these rules, it was the duty of the dean to intervene.5
In his journal, Felix Platter, the renowned sixteenth-century physician, offers us a more personal recollection of a mid-sixteenth-century disputation in Basel.6 During the debate the candidate faced several professors who contradicted his statements. Among them were the dean of the medical
To invite scholars like Huber, Keller and Huggelin to such events, documents – also called disputations – were produced prior to the event. These documents were given to potential visitors as well as pasted on doors and walls to announce the event. Towards the end of the century, such printed disputations were increasingly used as advertisement to praise the medical education in Basel. Produced in dozens of copies, the documents could easily be sent to friends, family members but also to scholars outside the university town. This additional function of printed medical disputation becomes obvious in their design. It changes significantly over the course of the sixteenth century. The survival of over five hundred medical disputations from the sixteenth century indicates just how important a role they played in the corporate life of the university.8
Despite their abundance, however, these numerous medical disputations have received almost no attention from scholars, in particular from historians. Previous studies, carried out by doctoral students of medicine, primarily focussed on the topics of disputations.9 These studies were also essentially limited to those disputations in which a student defended his theses to obtain a degree. This was not, however, the only motivation for scholars to dispute in public. Debates were often undertaken as practice – students could improve their rhetorical skills before they moved on to obtaining their degree. Professors who had obtained their doctoral degree at a foreign institution and wanted to work or teach in Basel also had to defend theses in public.
The seemingly dry documents reveal much more information than just the topics discussed in the sixteenth century. A close study of these disputations reveals details about the methods of teaching, the organisation, and the reasons why professors attended medical disputations. Some visitors even used the broadsheets for their own academic purposes – either to take notes or to prepare their arguments.
Disputing at the Medical Faculty in Basel
In 1500, students who intended to study medicine could only pursue a degree at a handful of universities such as in Basel.10 Located on the river Rhine, Basel was one of the most important trading centres south of the Alps. It was here that one of the earliest paper mills in Europe was built, which greatly facilitated the production of books. In the early sixteenth century Basel withdrew from her allegiance to the Holy Roman Empire and became a member of the Swiss Confederation. Sheltered by ten other cantons, Basel would establish itself as a leading centre for scholarly publishing.11 Eminent scholars such as Erasmus and Andreas Vesalius would make long journeys to publish their works in the city on the Rhine.
In 1459, Basel embraced academic teaching and founded the first Swiss university. The central institution was housed in the former residence of a noble widow.12 The house was located close to the Rhine just a short walk away from Basel’s cathedral, the heart of the city. It provided enough space for seven lecture theatres, as well as lodging for a number of professors and students. During the Reformation the city council took over the Augustinian monastery and gave it to the university in 1532. In addition to these two university houses, academic training also took place in the houses of professors. Therefore it was not unusual that Platter’s medical knowledge was thoroughly tested in the dean’s house before the candidate was allowed to dispute in public.13
From its very beginning the institution included a medical faculty.14 At first, however, this medical faculty was not able to compete with the distinguished centres of medicine in Montepellier and Padua.15 Although the university had a promising start, it soon fell foul of the religious tension associated with the Reformation. Many Protestant professors and students fled the conservative
Despite these difficulties, the University of Basel was ultimately able to establish itself as a leading centre for medical training. By 1600, Basel was one of the most important medical centres in Europe. As the personnel at the university had become more liberal and was strongly influenced by humanism, the institution attracted both professors and students of different faith. As Basel was also one of the most significant printing centres in Europe, academic staff could easily obtain books urgently needed for their training. The scholars in Basel were able to purchase not only books in Latin but also in Greek and even Hebrew.16 What further fostered the reputation of the medical faculty was the fact that many printers specialised in publishing scientific and medical books.17 This encouraged numerous scholars to go to Basel and have their work printed by one of the foremost printers in Europe. Among them was Andreas Vesalius who came to Basel in 1543 to publish his epoch-making De humani corporis fabrica.18
Basel owed its excellent reputation also to the relentless efforts of two professors, Theodor Zwinger and Felix Platter. Together the two professors restructured the study of medicine: their new regime included a regulation to integrate anatomy into the medical curriculum. Although for many of Platter’s and Zwinger’s contemporaries anatomy formed the basis for medical studies, it was taught at only a very few universities, such as Paris.19 With their restructuring of the medical curriculum, Platter and Zwinger improved the quality of medical teaching considerably. Thanks to their ambition, Basel soon attracted a large number of students not only from the Swiss Confederation and Germany but also from France, Poland, Italy and England.20
To study medicine in Basel, students had to have a master’s degree from the arts faculty. This meant that they had to study at least five years before they were able to obtain their doctoral degree.21 Graduating, however, was a costly matter. Students had to cover the fees for their exams as well as make payments to various university administration offices. On top of that the candidate had
By the time a medical student in Basel took his degree, he was no stranger to disputations. During his previous studies at the arts faculty, the doctoral candidate had to attend disputations and probably even take part in them. Visiting such disputations was of vital importance for academic training in the early modern period. Therefore these events were compulsory for all students. Without attending any disputations a student could not take his final exams.25 During the restructuring of the medical faculty in Basel, Platter and Zwinger also integrated practice disputations into the curriculum of medical students. Introduced in 1576, the ‘lex de disputationibus’ prescribed one practice disputation every month.26 This way, the professors could ensure that students expanded their medical knowledge, as well as honed their debating skills before they embarked on their doctoral disputation.
For their disputation, medical students could choose from a variety of topics. The many foreign scholars who came to Basel introduced new subjects for discussion. Until these foreign visitors appeared in Basel, most of the theses presented in disputations were based on works of ancient authors like Galen and Hippocrates, in particular Hippocrates’ aphorisms. This reveals the fairly conservative and theoretical character of the study of medicine in Basel at that time. By the mid-sixteenth century, however, some disputations already dealt with modern influences such as Paracelsianism.27 In one disputation the candidate referred to sulphur, mercury and salt, which according to Paracelsus were the elements that constituted the human body (in contrast to Galen’s four
From the mid-sixteenth century, medical studies in Basel were also increasingly influenced by other modern concepts. Some theses were clearly influenced by humanism, not least in their references to transmission errors in the Latin translations of the Greek originals. In 1558, Johann Jacob Huggelin, who had obtained his doctorate in Montepellier, discussed translation mistakes concerning blood-letting.29 This reflects the controversy on blood-letting initiated in the 1520s by Pierre Brissot.30 In Brissot’s opinion Galen and Hippocrates both stated in their Greek works that blood should be let from the side of the body afflicted by the disease. When translating them into Latin, Avicenna had not captured the precise meaning of the Greek texts and wrongly stated that blood-letting should be carried out from the opposite side. Other candidates discussed inconsistencies in the works of ancient authorities. The Italian Protestant Guglielmo Gratarolo pointed to such a mistake with his disputation printed in autumn 1558.31 He stated that in Hippocrates’ aphorisms the author believed that the old have fewer complaints than the young. However in his work on diet Hippocrates affirmed that the older are weaker.
Another thesis that reveals modern influences is that of Heinrich Pantaleon, a doctor of medicine from the University of Valence in France. In his disputation he criticised the inspection of urine, one of the main tools of diagnosis. In 1558, Pantaleon stated that uroscopy might impress the common people but at the same time reveals the doctor’s ignorance to those with a basic medical understanding. Over the centuries, physicians had relied on this procedure and did not question its importance for medical treatment.32 Pantaleon was one of the few learned men who turned their backs on ancient and mediaeval traditions and embraced a new, modern approach to medicine.
Despite these few disputations that were influenced by modern ideas, medical disputations in the mid-sixteenth century remained rather theoretical and
The Changing Faces of Medical Disputations
In the course of the sixteenth century, printed disputations provided the reader with an increasingly detailed overview of the topics discussed at the university. Whereas the broadsheets from the 1550s usually contained short theses such as “natura morbus curat”, later disputations were much more elaborate.35 On the broadsheet of Jean de Superville’s disputation from 1587, a single thesis contains a total of sixty words.36 The length of the theses can, however, vary quite significantly even in a single disputation. In the same disputation there is also a thesis that contains only fourteen words. On average, theses in the later decades of the sixteenth century cover more than three lines and contain about twenty-five to thirty words. They are much more detailed than their mid-sixteenth-century predecessors. Similarly, the number of theses multiplies on the later broadsheets. There are no longer disputations that employ the space-consuming question and answer form commonly used in the 1550s (Fig. 16.1). On average the later disputations list fifteen theses, in contrast to the average of ten theses on the broadsheets from the mid-sixteenth century.
A copy of Felix Platter’s disputation, Positiones, printed in 1557. It contains only a handful of theses that are relatively short. ustc 751723.
Basel University Library, Diss 148:1.Furthermore the type of theses changed as well, which allowed the reader to get a good impression of what exactly was taught in Basel. In the first twenty
This increasingly detailed structure, with more complex theses and references, led to a change in the design of medical disputations. In the mid-sixteenth century, essential information like the date, the time, the place and the name of the candidate was usually displayed in an introductory paragraph. As the disputations contained progressively more text, some of these details are featured more prominently at the top or the bottom of the broadsheets. So for example, the date is usually written in a separate line. Just like the date, the name of the candidate is printed in a prominent place, sometimes even separate from the text. Since the essential information was now displayed elsewhere, the opening paragraph became obsolete.40 As the later broadsheets consisted of much more text, it could have been quite difficult to determine quickly what the broadsheets were about. To stress the fact that these broadsheets were announcing medical disputations, distinctive titles were introduced, commonly at the very top of the broadsheet. While some disputations have a uniform title like ‘disputatio medicae’ or ‘theses medicae miscellaneae’,41 the majority of the later broadsheets have a specific title such as ‘de purgatione’ or ‘de epilepsia’.42 By contrast, none of the early broadsheets have titles.43
De partibus similaribus corporis humani. The title and all other relevant information are clearly displayed at the top and the bottom of the broadsheet.
Basel University Library, La i 11:61.Other essential parts of the theses were also prominently displayed. Apart from the date, the time and place of the event and the name of the candidate
Nearly all of the later broadsheets mention who will preside over the disputation (the praeses).48 The names of renowned professors should further help to catch the eyes of interested students. We know that Johannes Nicolaus Stupanus chaired Peter Jacob Montinus’ disputation in January 1591 as stated on the document: ‘Praeside D[omino] D[octori] Nicolao Stupano, Theorices Doctore celeberr[imo]’.49 Theodor Zwinger chaired disputations like the one held by Antoine Boucart in 1587. None of the broadsheets printed in the mid-sixteenth century lists the praeses at all.
The increase in the number of disputations towards the end of the sixteenth century led to a change in the organisation of such events, which also affected the design of the broadsheets. The small number of disputations in the mid sixteenth century did not require much organisation beforehand – in fact the disputation could be arranged within only two weeks. This happened for example in 1557 when Platter applied for a doctor’s degree on 14 August.50 One week after his application, Platter received two topics for his disputation. He prepared these two topics and printed his disputation on 29 August , announcing
In contrast, broadsheets printed between 1586 and 1599 reveal the date of the event in an altogether different manner. These documents commonly give the exact date such as ‘A.D.25.Mensis Ianuarij’ and ‘decimoquinto Iunij’.52 This indicates that the many disputations in the second half of the century took place on different days of the week; the high number of these events made it impossible to confine them to Thursdays. In addition, later broadsheets always included the year of the disputation to clarify matters.
The information on the time and place of the disputations was modified as well. Generally in the 1550s disputations took place in the morning. Thus the documents usually include expressions like ‘ante meridiem’ or ‘matutina’.53 Thus when in 1568 Johannes Nicolaus Stupanus defended his theses, he did this at eight in the morning, just as Johannes Bauhin did in 1571.54 Others defended their theses at seven o’clock.55 At that point the candidate, the professors as well as the audience came together in the ‘aula medicorum’, sometimes described as the ‘medicorum autitorio’. These two expressions refer to the assembly hall of the medical faculty. It was situated in the ‘Obere Collegium’, which formed a part of the former Augustine cloister.56
By the end of the sixteenth century this practice had become a routine. Scholars in Basel knew very well that disputations were commonly taking place in the assembly hall of the medical faculty at 7 o’clock. In addition for those scholars or potential students who read the disputation in a far-off place, such as Tübingen or other university towns, information on time and place was irrelevant. They did not intend to appear at the event; instead they just read the disputation to get an impression of the Basel syllabus. Therefore in contrast to the earlier documents, the later disputations include neither time nor place of the disputation. This information was simply redundant. Instead some later
Disputations from the mid-sixteenth century were generally not decorated. The only adornment on disputations in this period was a large woodcut initial at the beginning of the text. Only four of the thirteen disputations from the mid-sixteenth century show elaborated woodcuts.59 In contrast, the disputations from the later sixteenth century are much more lavishly decorated (Fig. 16.3). Lois Allard’s disputation from 1599 even has an embellished decorative frame with detailed flowers and angels.60 This embellishment may have responded to the wishes of the disputant that their achievements be properly celebrated. Alternatively, it may suggest that publishers were looking increasingly towards a more commercial market.
Assertiones de arthritide. A disputation from 1575 with elaborate woodcuts.ustc 751721.
Basel University Library, Diss 148:28.Disputations were published in two different formats: as a broadsheet and as a pamphlet. The two earliest examples of printed disputations were from the faculty of law (1518) and the faculty of medicine (1553).61 Both of them were published as broadsheets. It was not until the second half of the sixteenth century that printers in Basel published the first disputation pamphlets. These pamphlets appeared as quartos comprising on average four pages. The first pamphlet of this kind was published by the medical student Jacob Seidel.62 The small publication comprised 8 pages and invited its readers to the event on 22 September 1575. In the following decades this format proved to be successful. By the end of the sixteenth century no fewer than 395 disputation pamphlets were printed.63 Most publications were just as short as Jacob Seidel’s, but some pamphlets contained several dozen pages. In one exceptional case a disputation from 1593 comprised over 50 pages.64
The appearance of pamphlets did not render broadsheet disputations redundant; rather, these two forms coexisted. Particularly in the last decades of the sixteenth century, the use of both forms was very common. The student presumably had the choice between producing his thesis as a broadsheet or as
Medical Disputations and Their Collectors
The earliest broadsheet medical disputation in the university library was printed in 1553, nearly one century after the foundation of the university.66 The lack of printed disputations, however, does not indicate that the events did not take place; quite the contrary. Disputations were mandatory from the very beginning of the university; in fact they were mentioned explicitly in the university statutes of 1460.67 It may be that medical disputations were produced as manuscripts before 1553. Despite the invention of moveable type, universities still relied on manuscript production for many decades.68 Since disputations primarily addressed a small audience comprising mainly university members from one specific faculty it would have been quite practical for them to be handwritten rather than printed. In his catalogue, Mommsen refers to a manuscript disputation from 1475 – eight years after the first printer had started his business in Basel.69 So it may be possible that before the first printed disputation appeared in 1553, medical disputations were only circulated in manuscript form.
Yet this seems rather unlikely. Other faculties endorsed print from an early date. The first judicial disputation in Basel was already printed as early as 1518: it announces the disputation of Stephanus Fredolet from Besançon on 26 November. The first theological disputation was printed about twenty years later, in 1535.70 Thus we can assume that despite the costs of printing, from the early sixteenth century onwards disputations tended to be printed rather
Although broadsheets are highly ephemeral, it nevertheless seems unlikely that many medical disputations were produced before 1553. There were simply not many events to announce in the first half of the sixteenth century.74 After the university had re-opened in 1532, the medical faculty grew only very slowly. In the following thirty years there were only ten students matriculated at the medical faculty.
Fortunately, from 1553 onwards printed broadsheets were carefully collected. Thanks to this collecting practice the university library now possesses over one hundred medical broadsheets printed before 1601. Eighty broadsheets are bound together in a miscellaneous volume in the Basel University Library with the shelf mark La i 11. Another forty broadsheets were collected loosely in a folder with the shelf mark Diss 148. Some of these loose disputations are duplicates of those in La i 11; yet most of the broadsheets in Diss 148 are the only surviving copies of these particular medical disputations.
This rich collection owes its existence primarily to two professors, Bonifacius Amerbach and Heinrich Pantaleon. Amerbach frequently attended medical disputations; since he was the dean of the law faculty as well as rector of the university, he was probably obliged to visit these academic events.75 It is interesting to note that in the sixteenth century, the subjects of medicine and law overlapped significantly because of the theoretical character of medicine at that time.76 In fact, it was not uncommon to organise combined graduation ceremonies for students of medicine and law.77
Other annotated broadsheets reveal Amerbach’s interest in specific diseases. He was particularly interested in lithiasis, a common illness in Amerbach’s family. Amerbach’s brother Basilius suffered from it and even had to undergo surgery in 1509 to remove a bladder stone.80 When Philipp Bech discussed lithiasis in his disputation, Amerbach annotated the broadsheet extensively.81 The nature of his scribbled notes suggest that Amerbach wrote these annotations during the disputation. The professor was particularly interested in Bech’s first thesis discussing diuretics as treatment. Amerbach highlighted the word ‘diuretic’ and annotated the thesis in the margin, referring to the Italian doctor Johannes Manardus. Amerbach not only mentioned Manardus’ book Epistolarum medicinalium libri xx but also referred to its pages 489 and 496. At the bottom of the broadsheet he even quoted lines 7–12 from page 489.82 The content of these pages was presumably discussed during the disputation and Amerbach wrote them down for future reference.
Amerbach collected the loose broadsheet disputations in his own library. Several decades later, in the seventeenth century, the single sheets were bound together in a miscellaneous volume.83 Then, in 1661, the city of Basel bought the private library of Amerbach and the volume was integrated into the collection of the university library. In the 1670s the book surfaced for the first time in the catalogue of the university library and has remained in its holdings ever since.
But it was not only due to Pantaleon’s work as a librarian that medical broadsheets from the sixteenth century have survived until today. From 1558 onwards, Pantaleon was also a professor of medicine as well as dean of the faculty.86 As a teacher of many respondents, he received numerous broadsheets from his students to invite him to their disputation. In a similar manner to Amerbach’s protégées, Pantaleon’s students dedicated their copies to him; for example Guglielmo Gratarolo, who held his disputation in 1558.87 At the bottom of the broadsheet was written ‘Excell[entissimi] D[omini] He[n]ryco Pa[n]taleoni’. Another disputation from the year 1561 contains not only the name of Heinrich Pantaleon, but also his position: ‘Clariss[imo] philosopho et Medico d[omi]no doct[ori] Heinricho Panthaleoni praeceptori suo colendo’.88
Pantaleon not only collected broadsheets; he also added information to them. As a dutiful librarian, he wrote the name of the respondent and the year of the disputation on the back of the broadsheet. Thanks to these annotations we know today that Felix Platter defended his theses in 1557 and Guglielmo Gratarolo one year later – although the printed text itself does not reveal a specific year.89
Heinrich Panthaleon, Ad quaestiones, pro virili, respondebit. Panthaleon used a copy of his disputation as a notepad.ustc 751716.
Basel University Library, Diss 148:4.Producing Medical Disputations
We may presume that candidates of medical disputations in Basel were obliged to have their theses printed. Such a regulation existed at the law faculty from 1563 onwards obliging doctoral candidates to print their thesis in order to receive their degree.91 Rules like this were not uncommon. In Freiburg, the university closest to Basel, students had to print their theses from 1570 onwards.92 Medical students in Basel thus were probably also required to publish their disputation, although this was not specifically mentioned in the faculty statutes. However such a law may well have been introduced during the restoration of the medical faculty in 1575.93
Taking into consideration that Mofetus may have sent some copies home to London and kept a few copies for himself and his friends, we may safely assume that this disputation was printed in at least 150 copies. This number, however, is a rather conservative estimate. After all, the production of pamphlets was relatively cheap; once the type was set it was easy to produce several hundred copies. As Basel had excellent opportunities to sell books and pamphlets at book fairs, disputations might have found their way into the hands of many foreigners.96 This was common practice in Tübingen, where the rector of the university asked the printer Thomas Anshelm to distribute broadsheets advertising lectures in Tübingen.97 Anshelm produced no fewer than 1,000 copies of this advertisement in both Latin and German. The copies were then handed out at the Frankfurt book fair to recruit new students.
Thomas Mofetus, as well as his fellow students, most likely had to cover the costs for the production of the printed theses himself. This was the case at
When they had finished their theses, the candidates in Basel could choose to have them printed at a number of print shops. In other university towns, there was one single printer responsible for printing academic documents, the so-called typographus academicus.100 However, there was no designated university printer in sixteenth-century Basel. Instead in the mid-sixteenth century there were several printers who supplied academic ephemera. Most broadsheets published before the 1570s do not reveal a printer’s name, though we can identify the handiwork of some specific printers through typographical analysis. So, for instance, the two woodcuts used for the disputation in 1553, suggest that the broadsheet was printed by Johannes Herwagen. Another two broadsheets can be attributed to Heinrich Petri.101 So at this point there were at least two printers involved in the production of disputations. This changed towards the end of the century. By that time the brothers Leonhard and Daniel Ostein had distinguished themselves from their competitors and produced most medical disputations.102 The Ostein brothers also printed numerous disputations for other faculties. Beside Johannes Oporinus, the Ostein brothers were the most productive printers of judicial disputations to 1592.103 Even so the printing brothers did not have a monopoly: disputations were also produced by other printing houses like the ones owned by Brylinger and Episcopius.
It was not until the beginning of the seventeenth century that Basel had a typographus academicus. From 1608 Johann Jakob Genath was solely responsible for the university’s publications.104 Seven years later he was announced the official university printer and was given a monopoly from the university.
As we have seen sixteenth-century medical disputations were much more than just invitations that were discarded after they had fulfilled their purpose. Instead they were increasingly used to advertise the university, for notes written during the ceremony or as an autographed token of esteem from student to professor. They also give us considerable insight into the medical training in Basel, which changed significantly during the early modern period. As Basel progressively attracted foreign scholars, who then defended their theses in public, the study of medicine was influences by more practical approaches to the subject. As a result, towards the end of the century the study of medicine had become less theoretical than before but focussed increasingly on specific diseases. The increasingly elaborate and complex layout of the printed documents suggests both growing typographical ambition and an awareness of the commercial possibilities of this sort of print. Important information such as the content of the thesis was displayed much more prominently. To save valuable space on the broadsheets other details that were less important were shortened or omitted altogether. One of the most revealing findings of this study is the fact that professors used the printed single sheets as notepads and preparation sheets for their own disputation; a fact that proves once more that these documents were a lot more than just a necessary part of academic formalities.
Rainer A. Müller, ‘Studentenkultur und akademischer Alltag’, in Walter Rüegg (ed.), Geschichte der Universität in Europa: Von der Reformation zur Französischen Revolution. 1500–1800 (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1996), pp. 270–271.
Ewald Horn, Die Disputationen und Promotionen an den deutschen Universitäten, vornehmlich seit dem 16. Jahrhundert (Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1893), p. 3.
Werner Allweiss, ‘Von der Disputation zur Dissertation’, in Rudolf Jung and Paul Kaegbein (eds.), Dissertationen in Wissenschaft und Bibliotheken (London: Saur, 1979), p. 18.
Albrecht Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät zu Basel, 1460–1900 (Basel, Reinhardt, 1917), p. 367.
Edgar Bonjour, Die Universität Basel: von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart, 1460–1960 (Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1960), p. 85.
Felix Platter, Tagebuch, ed. Valentin Lötscher (Basel: Schwabe, 1976).
Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 438.
Fritz Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften von 1575–1829 (Basel, Universitätsbibliothek Sonderdruck, 1942), pp. 4–5.
Cäcilia Burri, ‘Zahnmedizinische Themen in den lateinischen Disputationen der medizinischen Fakultät zu Basel 1575–1829’ (PhD dissertation, University of Zurich, 1992); Dubravka Deanovic, ‘Basler anatomische Dissertationen 1578–1800’ (PhD dissertation, University of Basel, 1990).
Laurence Brockliss, ‘Lehrpläne’, in Walter Rüegg (ed.), Geschichte der Universität in Europa: Von der Reformation zur Französischen Revolution. 1500–1800 (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1996), p. 486.
Andrew Pettegree, The Book in the Renaissance (London: Yale University Press, 2010), pp. 67–69.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 55.
Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, The Beggar and the Professor. A Sixteenth-Century Family Saga (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), p. 319.
Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 5.
Andrew Cunningham, ‘The Bartholins, the Platters and Laurentius Gryllus: The Peregrinatio Medica in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries’, in Ole Peter Grell, Andrew Cunningham and Jon Arrizabalaga (eds.), Centres of Medical Excellence? Medical Travel and Education in Europe, 1500–1789 (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), p. 4.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 121.
Urs Leu, ‘The Book and Reading Culture in Basel and Zurich during the Sixteenth Century’, in Malcolm Walsby and Graeme Kemp (eds.), The Book Triumphant: Print in Transition in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Leiden: Brill, 2011), p. 304.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 171.
Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 10.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 221.
Ibid., p. 137.
For a detailed overview on the costs a doctoral student had to pay in order to receive his degree: Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 403.
Le Roy Ladurie, The Beggar and the Professor, p. 321.
Karl Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen: 1558–1818 (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, 1978), p. 18.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 85.
Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, p. 9.
See below.
ustc 751652; Mary Lindemann, Medicine and Society in early modern Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), p. 100.
ustc 751701; Frank Hieronymus, Theophrast und Galen – Celsus und Paracelsus: Medizin, Naturphilosophie und Kirchenreform im Basler Buchdruck bis zum Dreißigjährigen Krieg (4 vols, Basel: Universitätsbibliothek Basel, 2005), p. 1235.
Andrew Wear, ‘Medicine in Early Modern Europe 1500–1700’, in Lawrence I. Conrad (ed.), The Western Medical Tradition: 800 b.c.–1800 a.d. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 252.
ustc 751684.
Nancy G. Siraisi, Medieval & Early Renaissance Medicine: An Introduction to Knowledge and Practice (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), p. 58.
Karcher, Theodor Zwinger und seine Zeitgenossen, p. 15; Hieronymus, Theophrast und Galen, p. 1247.
Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, no. 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8.
ustc 751652.
ustc 751742.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 51.
Basel University Library La i 11:61.
Basel University Library La i 11:71.
Basel University Library La i 11:60, La i 11:61, La i 11:63, La i 11:66, La i 11:69, ustc 751676.
ustc 751742, ustc 751653.
Basel University Library La i 11:61, La i 11:64, La i 11:66, La i 11:69, ustc 751741, ustc 751676, ustc 751662.
Schreckenfuchs’ disputation is the exception with its title De arthride, ustc 751729.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 72.
ustc 751729.
Basel University Library La i 11:3, La i 11:9, ustc 751684, ustc 751701, ustc 751716, ustc 751752, ustc 751652, ustc 751661.
Basel University Library La i 11:64.
Basel University Library La i 11:60, La i 11:61, La i 11:63, La i 11:66, La i 11:69, La i 11:71, ustc 751742, ustc 751741, ustc 751676, ustc 751736.
ustc 751736.
Platter, Tagebuch, pp. 304–307.
Basel University Library La i 11:9, ustc 751684, ustc 751701, ustc 751716, ustc 751752, ustc 751735, ustc 751661, ustc 751729.
Basel University Library La i 11:61, ustc 751662.
ustc 751723, ustc 751684.
ustc 751734, ustc 751661.
Basel University Library La i 11:9, ustc 751652.
Platter, Tagebuch, p. 307.
Basel University Library La i 11:61, La i 11:66, La i 11:71, ustc 751741, ustc 751676, ustc 751736.
Basel University Library La i 11:60, La i 11:63, La i 11:64, ustc 751662, ustc 751742.
Basel University Library La i 11:3, La i 11:9, ustc 751701, ustc 751716.
ustc 751653.
Basel University Library el i 4a:4, La i 11:3.
ustc 607275.
Husner lists 395 pamphlets that were printed before 1601, see Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, pp. 25–42.
Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, no. 232.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 42.
There are also some undated disputations, but they seem to have been printed around the same time, Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, p. 7.
Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 8.
Stephan Füssel, ‘Kontinuität und Umbruch: Die Literaturentwicklung von 1450 bis 1600’, in Stephan Füssel (ed.), Deutsche Dichter der frühen Neuzeit (1450–1600). Ihr Leben und Werk (Berlin: Erich Schmidt, 1993), p. 18.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 27.
Ibid., p. 27.
Burckhardt, Geschichte der Medizinischen Fakultät, p. 138.
Leu, ‘Book and Reading Culture’, p. 301.
Felix Heinimann, ‘Johannes Oporinus: 1507–1568’, in Andreas Staehelin (ed.), Professoren der Universität Basel aus 5 Jahrhunderten: Bildnisse und Würdigungen (Basel: Reinhardt, 1960), p. 42.
Bonjour, Universität Basel, p. 90.
Beat Rudolf Jenny, ‘Einladung und Thesen zur Disputation des Arztes Philipp Bechi’, in Fritz Nagel (ed.), Bonifacius Amerbach 1495–1562 (Basel: Schwabe, 1995), p. 89.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 83.
Ibid., pp. 34–35.
Beat Rudolf Jenny, ‘Bonifacius Amerbach: Zu seinem Lebenslauf und zu seiner Persönlichkeit’, in Fritz Nagel (ed.), Bonifacius Amerbach 1495–1562 (Basel: Schwabe, 1995), p. 13.
All of these copies are in Basel University Library La i 11, Diss 148:6, ustc 751684, ustc 751752.
Jenny, ‘Bonifacius Amerbach’, p. 88.
Basel University Library La i 11.
Jenny, ‘Bonifacius Amerbach’, p. 88.
I would like to thank Lorenz Heiligensetzer from the Basel University Library for his insights on this question.
Hieronymus, Theophrast und Galen, p. 1230.
The following information on Pantaleon’s work as a librarian is taken from Beat Rudolf Jenny, ‘Der Bibliothekar Heinrich Pantaleon’, in Lorenz Heiligensetzer, etc. (eds.), ‘Treffenliche schöne Biecher’: Hans Ungnads Büchergeschenk und die Universitätsbibliothek Basel im 16. Jahrhundert (Basel: Schwabe, 2005), pp. 108–115.
Werner Kaegi, ‘Heinrich Pantaleon: 1522–1595’, in Andreas Staehelin (ed.), Professoren der Universität Basel aus 5 Jahrhunderten: Bildnisse und Würdigungen (Basel: Reinhardt, 1960), p. 46.
ustc 751684.
Basel University Library Diss 148.
Yet Panthaleon’s comments on the back must be treated with caution. On the disputation of Johannes Acronius the date printed at the bottom of the broadsheet says ‘M.D.L.X.IIII’. Pantaleon, however, wrote ‘1563’ on the back of the broadsheet, which would mean that the disputation took place one year earlier. It seems unlikely that this was a printing mistake since Acronius became a doctor of medicine on 5 May 1564 and this disputation was most likely the examination for his doctoral degree. So presumably, Pantaleon simply made a mistake.
ustc 751716.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 28.
Vivian Nutton, ‘Medicine in Medieval Western Europe, 1000–1500’, in Lawrence I. Conrad (ed.), The Western Medical Tradition: 800 b.c.–1800 a.d. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 154.
Husner, Verzeichnis der Basler Medizinischen Universitätsschriften, p. 8.
Petra Bauer, et al. (eds.), Historische Dissertationen vom Einblattdruck zum Pflichtexemplar: Ausstellung der Stiftung Zanders- Papiergeschichtliche Sammlung- aus der Privatbibliothek Dr. Frank Grätz im Kulturhaus der Zanders Feinpapiere ag (Bergisch Gladbach: Grätz, 1995), p. 41.
The following paragraph follows Rudolf Thommen, Geschichte der Universität Basel: 1532–1632 (Basel: Detloff, 1889), p. 60.
Leu, ‘Book and Reading Culture’, p. 297.
Theodor Schott, ‘Zur Geschichte des Buchhandels in Tübingen’, Archiv für Geschichte des deutschen Buchhandels, 2 (1879), pp. 241–242.
Allweiss, ‘Von der Disputation zur Dissertation’, p. 23.
Horn, Disputationen und Promotionen, p. 88.
Hilde de Ridder-Symoens, ‘Organisation und Ausstattung’, in Walter Rüegg (ed.), Geschichte der Universität in Europa: Von der Reformation zur Französischen Revolution. 1500–1800 (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1996), p. 174.
Hieronymus, Theophrast und Galen, p. 1232, p. 1235, p. 1238.
So, for instance, Basel University Library La i 11:60, La i 11:61, La i 11:63, La i 11:71.
Mommsen, Katalog der Basler juristischen Disputationen, p. 42.
Ibid., p. 42.
Ibid., p. 42.
Thommen, Geschichte der Universität Basel, p. 85.
Malcolm Walsby, The Printed Book in Brittany 1484–1600 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), p. 122.