When you investigate universities’ histories you quickly realise that who gets to call a place a university, and who gets to grant the power to confer degrees, are contested matters.
Remember that universities – at least in the European model – are medieval in origin, and the name does not mean universal but a single unit – a universitas, in Latin.
A medieval university was a type of corporate body which sat outside civil society, and its governors had specific powers which could rival those – within their domain – of dukes, barons, and sheriffs. And as universities were self-perpetuating (because to confer a degree was to grant a rank of membership of the university) then it was an obviously political issue.
In most European countries universities were established by Papal Bull. This isn’t, disappointingly, a particularly holy bovine, just the name given to decrees issued by the pope. (Bull comes from bulla, a round object, and refers, apparently, to the heavy seal attached to papal decrees.)
So, for example, Glasgow, St Andrews and Aberdeen universities were established by papal bull. Oxford and Cambridge were unusual in not having a papal bull. I would suggest this is explained by the English crown’s frequent historical arguments with the French crown, and therefore, often, with the pope.
But by and large popes didn’t just go around founding universities randomly. It was done by petition, mostly, of the relevant monarch. So far, so good.
We now have to have a word about Italy.
Or more precisely, about the place that was Italy before it became Italy in the nineteenth century, if you know what I mean. Important note: what follows is a huge simplification of an awful lot of stuff. After the Roman empire collapsed the popes became both spiritual and temporal rulers of a lot of the lands in the Italian peninsula. And so they could do pretty much as they pleased.
And now back to the postcard. In 1551 Ignatius Loyala, founder of the Society of Jesus, also known as the Jesuits, established a school in Rome, called the Roman College. This was supported financially by Francis Borgia, a Spanish grandee and a member of the infamous Borgia family, being a grandson of both Pope Alexander VI and King Ferdinand II of Aragon. He was also later a priest and saint.
It was very successful, enrolling many students, and in 1556 Pope Paul VI granted it the power to confer degrees. These powers were reconfirmed by subsequent popes (the turnover of popes at this time was quite high) and, in 1584, Pope Gregory XIII funded new buildings for the college, which renamed itself the Gregorian University in his honour.
Gregory XIII was also commemorated in the Gregorian calendar. This was a more accurate calendar than the Julian calendar (named for Julius Caesar) used at that time. It was developed by astronomer Luigi Giglio, and when presented to Gregory XIII in 1572 was passed to Christopher Clavius, professor at the then Roman School, and senior mathematician on the pope’s calendrical reform commission.
The new calendar was adopted by the pope in 1582 but wasn’t adopted in Britain until 1752.
In 1773, the Society of Jesus was suppressed, and control of the Gregorian University was handed over to the diocese of Rome. Until 1824, when the Society had been re-established and Pope Leo XII placed the Gregorian University back under their control.
The university was now a thriving, multi-faculty institution, but all of this came to a screeching halt in 1870. The Papal States were incorporated into the new Kingdom of Italy the government confiscated the university’s buildings, turning them into a secondary school – a liceo classical in Italian terminology – the Ennio Quirino Visconti Liceo Ginnasio.
The university moved to smaller buildings and dropped all of its faculties apart from theology and philosophy. Enrolment fell, with only about 250 students in 1875. But even if the Italian state did not love the university, the popes still did.
Pope Pius IX granted it the title of Pontifical Gregorian University and in 1876 the faculty of canon law of La Sapienza University was transferred to the Gregorian University, and over time it regained its faculties, so to speak.
A new campus was built in the 1920s, into which the university moved in 1930 – this is the building which is shown on the postcard.
After the Second Vatican Council in 1965, the university admitted women, and around 1970 the university stopped using Latin as the primary language for teaching. The university’s alumni include seventeen popes and seventy-two saints and beatified people. It probably helps in this regard to have friends in high places.
Here’s a jigsaw of the postcard, which was sent to an address in Cremona, Italy. The handwritten message is dated 18 Gennaio 1961 (which in Italian is 18 January 1961), the card is postmarked “18.1.1962,” with a purple 15 lire stamp. Did the sender forget what year it had recently become?
