In the course of my research for my novel The Echoes of Love I researched Venetian history in detail. I was especially interested in the people of Venice – and given the city’s respected artistic and academic tradition, there are so many impressive figures to learn about. One that really captured my interest was Elena Lucrezia Cornaro Piscopia, the world’s first woman to attain a doctorate degree.

Elena was of noble birth; she counted among her ancestors popes, cardinals, Venetian doges and a Cypriote queen, and her family home, the castle Piscopia, had been given to the family by royalty. She was the original child prodigy, beginning her studies at the age of seven. By womanhood she was proficient in seven languages, an accomplished musician (she played the violin,  harp and harpsichord), and she was so far advanced in her studies of theology and maths that clerics and scientists of the time were travelling to Venice to meet her and engage with her in academic debates.

In today’s world progressing to university would have been the logical path for a girl such as Elena. But in fact Elena herself was not keen – she wanted to enter the Benedictine Order. Her father, however, broke the mould in deciding that his daughter must further her studies, and he applied for her to attend the University of Padua. At that time some women had studied science and maths at university, but Elena was the first to read theology.

After six years of studies, Elena made history when she received her doctorate of philosophy. So inspirational was this achievement that many influential people came to the cathedral of Padua to see her matriculate: professors of all the faculties, students, Venetian senators, and guests from the universities of Bologna, Perugia, Rome, and Naples.

Following her degree, Elena worked for the University of Padua as a lecturer in maths; sadly, she only had seven years to enjoy her position before she died of tuberculosis. She is remembered, though, in academic intuitions worldwide – Vassar College, for example, has a stained glass window depicting her matriculation in the Thompson Memorial Library:

It’s an inspirational story, I’m sure you agree, and no doubt you can tell that this is not a story of recent history. How long ago, then, would you guess Elena lived?

You’d be forgiven for thinking this is a story set in the early twentieth century… Compare, for a moment, Elena’s university, Padua, with the English University of Cambridge. Both are very old and respected educational establishments. They are, in fact, in the list of the tenth oldest universities in the world: Cambridge was formed in 1209; Padua in 1222. And yet it was not until 1921 that women students of Cambridge could receive the titles of full degrees. Yet Padua had made Elena a doctor in…  1678!

And yet the truth of the matter was not that Padua was groundbreakingly ahead of its time: it did not award another doctorate to a woman for 300 years. Clearly, it was how exceptional Elena was that made her this pioneering figure in women’s education.

Eagle-eyed readers may have spotted the inconsistency in Elena’s story. She read theology at Padua, but became a doctor of philosophy. Therein lies the truth of Elena’s doctorate award. She did, in fact, earn enough credits for a doctorate in theology, but the Roman Catholic Church refused to allow her to take the title (they felt it was on a par with ordaining her as a priest). But influential figures at the university were unhappy by the Church’s decision, and hence they agreed to offer Elena an alternative PhD in philosophy.

I wonder what Elena felt when she was handed her doctorate. Did she know how important that moment was in women’s history? Was she delighted to be recognised in this way? Or was she dissatisfied that her true degree, in theology, was off limits to her?