Have you visited the British Library’s current family exhibition Story Explorers: A Journey through Imaginary Worlds (19 May 2025- 18 January 2026) and wondered why is there an ancient Egyptian funerary slab from 2000 BC in the Library?  

Almost twenty years ago, in 2006, the British Library received the Talbot Collection as a major gift from Mrs. Petronella and Janet Burnett-Brown. Petronella’s late husband Anthony was the great-great grandson of William Henry Fox Talbot (1800-77), who was the British inventory of photography. Janet was Anthony's sister and together they managed the Talbot photographic collection and archive at their home at Lacock Abbey until the early 2000s.

The Talbot Collection included an extensive archive of Talbot's correspondence, notebooks, negatives and photographs, alongside scientific instruments and other ephemera that illustrated the breadth of Talbot’s cultural and scientific interests and achievements. Talbot's interests were in fields as diverse as mathematics, botany, astronomy and the decipherment of Assyrian cuneiform. In additional to the manuscript and photographic component of this collection, there is a group of ancient Egyptian funerary objects—including shabti figurines and stelae – which are now viewed the oldest items in the British Library.  

A late 11th to early 12th Dynasty (c.2000 BC) Egyptian funerary stela for the highly-born woman Imaw (or Iamu). British Library, Talbot Stela 11. Rectangular limestone stela, some remaining red pigment, measuring 51.6cm (width) x 48.3cm (height) x 8.8cm (depth). Acceptance in Lieu of Inheritance Tax, 2006. Gift of Petronella Burnett-Brown and Janet Burnett-Brown.

Last spring, our doctoral placement student Grace Exley, had the opportunity to research the object histories and provenance of the twenty-six Egyptian funerary objects that were once collected by Talbot. Grace undertook extensive archival research at the Library, consulting Talbot’s archive, auction catalogues, and key academic sources. She prepared detailed catalogue records and provided a helpful summary: 

William Henry Fox Talbot had a long-standing interest in ancient cultures, publishing multiple books on classical and antiquarian subjects. He was especially interested in translating ancient languages, particularly Assyrian, which is perhaps the best known of his antiquarian interests. However, Talbot was initially interested in Egyptian hieroglyphics, even sending them to his mother and half-sister as translation challenges. He was well-connected to a number of Egyptologists, including Karl Lepsius (1810-1884), Samuel Birch (1813-1885), and William John Bankes (1786-1855). He even met the famed Italian strongman and explorer of the tomb of Seti I, Giovanni Battista Belzoni (1778-1823) in 1820.  

Where Talbot acquired his Egyptian collection is unclear. It seems he grew the collection by acquiring pieces over time from various sources. For example, it seems Talbot’s cousin Christopher Rice Mansel Talbot (1803-1890) tried to find Egyptian antiquities for Talbot on his trip to Egypt in 1827 (British Library, Add MS 88942/2/117). Talbot was also aware of various auctions of antiquarian material, such as the 1836 sale of James Burton Junior’s Egyptian collection in London (as illustrated by a letter sent to Talbot, Add MS 88942/8/76). It is therefore likely that Talbot acquired his Egyptian objects over an extended period, supported by the one reference Talbot made to purchasing Egyptian artefacts in his pocketbook for 1836-1837. Talbot wrote that he had purchased a hieroglyphic manuscript and a hieroglyphic tablet (p.18), followed by three more hieroglyphic tablets (p.19). These references are within Talbot’s accounts, and the brief details mean that it is impossible to tie these entries to specific stelae. The hieroglyphic manuscript was sold at auction in the 1980s, along with other items from Talbot’s Egyptian collection. 

Of the twenty-six Egyptian objects that are now at the British Library, we selected one of the stela to be featured in the Story Explorers exhibition. With the exhibition team Nicola Pomeroy, Mariam de Haan and Stephen Nicholls wishing to feature a range of Library objects to demonstrate the vast range of material types held in the collections (not just books!), we brought to their attention the Egyptian collection. In the gallery, the stela is featured alongside an early 20th century Javanese shadow puppet and an educational shellac record from the Talking Book Corporation that featured man made vocalisations of foxes! 

The selected stela is the largest in size held in The British Library. Rectangular in shape, it is cut out of limestone with some pigments still visible in the relief. It dates to the late 11th to early 12th Dynasty (c.2000 BC). It was prepared for the highly-born woman iAm-Hqt, Imaw (or Iamu), with two registers incised in sunken relief. The five lines of hieroglyphics in the upper register give the deceased's titles, 'the sole royal ornament, priestess of Hathor', and ask not only for commodities (bread, beer, oxen, geese, alabaster, and linen) in thousands, but also a good burial in her tomb in the necropolis of the Western desert.

Detail showing the visible residue of pigments in the relief. British Library, Talbot Stela 11.

The lower left part of the stela shows the deceased, Xkrt-nswt watt Hm(t)-nTr HtHr iAm-Hqt, in two mirror images. She wears a long, close-fitting dress with a wide collar and straps, as well as a wig decorated with curls, and both mirror images hold long, spear-headed sticks or staffs. On the right are two other figures, one male and one female. The female is likely Hm(t)-nTr HtHr iAmit and the male, whose arms are outstretched, is unnamed and wears a kilt in late Old Kingdom to early Heracleopolitan style. There is one column of hieroglyphics in the lower left corner of the slab, which seems to be a continuation of the five horizontal lines of text, reading: "for the revered one before the great god iAm-Hqt".

Detail of Xkrt-nswt watt Hm(t)-nTr HtHr iAm-Hqt, in two mirror images. British Library, Talbot Stela 11.

During Talbot's lifetime and in subsequent years, the Egyptian collection was on display throughout his home at Lacock Abbey, in Wiltshire. Talbot used objects found in his home for his photography experiments and even photographed this particular stela, as cited by Grace in her research. The photographic print, a salted paper print, can be viewed on the Talbot Catalogue Raisonne Project website. 

Until the 20th century, the Talbot family owned Lacock Abbey and the surrounding village of Lacock and it was his descendant Matilda Talbot (1871-1958) who presented the village and the home to the care of the National Trust in 1944. Anthony and his family would live at Lacock from 1971 through the 2000s.

Talbot's collection of photographs, archives and objects were formally presented to the British Library in 2006 by the family of Anthony Burnett-Brown. Until last year, a selection of the Egyptian items remained on display at the Fox Talbot Museum in Lacock and were brought to the Library for permanent storage. For researchers wishing to consult the collection, Talbot's manuscripts can be consulted in the Manuscripts Reading Room while the photographs and objects in the Print Room (located inside the Asia and Africa Reading Room). For researchers wishing to consult the collection, appointments can be made by sending an email to [email protected]. 

Grace Exley and the Visual Arts Team

Further reading and information:

 

Featured in Talbot photographic collections. Schaaf nos: 5031 and 3685.

 

Record of Talbot purchasing stelae and a manuscript:

Talbot pocketbook, 1836-7. British Library Fox Talbot Manuscript Collection, Add MS 88942/5/1/26, pp.18-19.

 

Correspondence with Christopher Rice Mansel Talbot regarding the purchase of Egyptian artefacts:

Talbot, C.R.M. 1827. Letter to W.H.F. Talbot. 12th June. British Library, Fox Talbot Manuscript Collection, Add MS 88942/2/117

 

Talbot, C.R.M. 1827. Letter to W.H.F. Talbot. 18th November. British Library, Fox Talbot Manuscript Collection, Add MS 88942/8/76 [This letter also contains a reference to the death of Henry Salt (1780-1827), whose Egyptian collection was sold in London in June, 1835.]

 

Correspondence mentioning the sale of James Burton’s collection of antiquities:

Lambert, A.B. 1836. Letter to W.H.F. Talbot. 14th July. British Library, Fox Talbot Manuscript Collection, Add MS 88942/8/76.

 

Talbot’s meeting with Belzoni was mentioned in a letter to his step-father:

Talbot, W.H.F. 1820. Letter to Charles Feilding. August 20th. British Library, Fox Talbot Manuscript Collection, Add MS 88942/2/38 

This guest blog is by Muhammed Khaleel, who in 2024 surveyed early Arabi-Malayalam lithographed books in the British Library.

While I was going through the uncatalogued collections of early Arabi-Malayalam printed books in the Asian and African Collections in the British Library, I came across dozens of lithographed books all sharing a consistent structure, style and format, and which were copied by no more than three scribes all with very similar handwriting, suggesting a common origin. However, essential data such as author details, copyright information and seals of registration were missing from the title pages compared to later Arabi-Malayalam texts printed in the twentieth century in Kerala, while the colophons generally only gave information on the publisher. I thus began checking these works in detail against the entries in the official quarterly lists of books published from Madras, the Fort St. George Gazette Supplement, which is also held in the British Library.

After a detailed examination, I found that these books were all published in the 1870s and 1880s by early lithographic presses owned by Mappila Muslims based in Thalassery, a major port city in northern Malabar, in the South Indian state of Kerala. During this period, the important figures who established the early presses were Thalassery Mēlēkkandi KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī, Veḷippicc Kandi Kuññi Moosa, Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad, and Nīrāṭṭu Pīṭikayil Kuññi Aḥmad. The location of these presses at Thalassery, a city historically renowned for its trade and cultural interactions since the early modern times, soon made the city the major center of Arabi-Malayalam printing, until Aniyārappuṟattu Ammu established his famous Muḥkī al-Gharā’ib press in the end of the nineteenth century in Ponnāni. Thereafter, the center of Arabi-Malayalam printing shifted from Thalassery to Tirūrangādi and Ponnāni, two cities in the district of Malappuram, which were also renowned as religious centers of Malabar.

Fig. 1. Title page (left) and colophon (right) of kappappāṭṭ, a literary text printed in 1882 at KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī’s press by his son Nāyam vītil ʿAbduh: Nāyam vīṭil purayil vecc accadiccirikkunnu, ‘printed at Nāyam vītil house’. British Library (shelfmark pending)

As is evident from the colophons, these early lithographic presses didn’t have official names or offices but were established by the aforementioned figures in their private homes in Thalassery, except for Kuññi Moosa, who established his printing press in Thalassery Bazar, the then city center.

Fig.2. Title page (left) and colophon (right) of Kelavante pāṭṭ published by Veḷippicc Kandi Kuññi Moosa’s press in 1875. British Library (shelfmark pending)

Athough lithographic presses had been present in Malabar since 1821, it is not clearly recorded when the first Arabi-Malayalam lithograph was published. However, the press established by KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī in his residence, Nāyam vītil, was the first lithographic press under the Muslim ownership to print Arabi-Malayalam texts. KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī, a passionate person in spreading knowledge, sent one of his sons, Kuññaḥmed, to the Basel Mission printing press in Thalassery to work as a printer (Aabu 1970: 126). After learning the technique of lithographic printing, Kuññaḥmed came back to help his father KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī establish the press in 1867. Registered as ‘Koyali hajee, nayan veetil in pazhassi tellicherry’ the press began its operation by printing a Qurʾān.

Around this time, probably in the mid-1870s, Velippicc Kandi Kuññi Moosa also established his press in Thalassery Bazar which was recorded as ‘Valmiki rawdi coonji nissa’ in the quarterly list. During the same decade, another publisher named Nīrātti Pīṭikayil Kuññi Aḥmed, recorded in the quarterly list as Nuratti padikail kunḥammed, began appearing in the scene, as did Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad who printed books at his home in Thayyil Kandi in Tiruvangād. Interestingly, all these presses published several of the same titles during the 1870s and 1880s as is evident from the British Library collection. Despite printing the same titles, there apparently held a competition between presses on various matters.


Fig. 3. Paratextual sections in a much later text titled Karāmāt al-a’aẓam, printed in 1950, with full publication details. British Library (shelfmark pending)

In terms of the very simple structure, format and style, these books are evidently forerunners in Arabi-Malayalam printing. There is almost no decoration except for the title page, where the title is written in a small font size on the top of the page with extremely minimal floral decorations (see fig.1 and 2). O. Aabu, a historian of Arabi-Malayalam, argues that press owners did not pay attention to designs and decorations in the title page (1970: 127), and yet several floral designs and decorations can be seen in the early Qurʾān printed by KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī in 1867. I suggest that this could be for two reasons: firstly, as lithographs are basically copied from manuscripts, the scribes copied what they saw in manuscripts of the Qurʾān, which were more likely to be decorated than other manuscripts. The second possibility is that the scribes wanted to make Qurʾān unique in its design from other texts, and hence made it distinct with decorations. The former is more likely as we do see a difference compared with literary texts: in other words, the Qurʾān and other religious texts were decorated to signify their sacrality.

Fig. 4a. Title page of Muḥyudhīn malā published by Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad’s press in 1875. British Library (shelfmark pending)

Fig. 4b. Colophon of Muḥyudhīn malā published by Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad’s press in 1875. British Library (shelfmark pending)

Although all these texts had colophons, they only provided the information about the printing press, its owner, the scribe of the lithograph and the date of copying. Other important information such as the identity of the author and copyright information were not found. The highlighting of publisher details suggests that the presses deemed this information as more relevant than others.

Fig. 5a. Title page of Niskārattinte duāʿyum mattum published by Nīrāṭṭu Pīṭikayil Kuññi Aḥmad in 1875. British Library (shelfmark pending)

Fig. 5b. Colophon page of Niskārattinte duāʿyum mattum (1875) published by Nīrāṭṭu Pīṭikayil Kuññi Aḥmad in 1875. British Library (shelfmark pending)

Further, it can be noticed that the early concept of copyright in Arabi-Malayalam imprints was both fluid and contested. For instance, Muḥyudhīn malā, one of the most well-renowned liturgies in Malabar written by Qāḍī Muḥammed (d. 1616), on the life of a Baghdadi ṣūfī, ʿAbdul Qādir al-Jīlanī (d. 1116), was published by almost all these publishers without any copyright statements. The British Library holds at least three early copies of the text, one aprinted by Nīrāṭṭu Pīṭikayil Kuññi Aḥmad in 1873, a second by Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad in 1875 and another by KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī in 1876. Concomitantly, there were assertions of the right to publish the text as well, in terms which are slightly different from contemporary copyright laws. The copy of Muḥyudhīn malā published by KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī mentions that their lithograph is a direct copy of the original manuscript of the text that was preserved by the family of Qāḍī Muḥammed, which is a clear statement claiming that KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī had more authority to publish the text than his counterparts.

Fig.6. Title page (left) and colophon (right) of an early copy of Cārdarveś published by Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad’s press in 1875, although a few accounts state that Cārdarveś was first published in 1883 (See Moulavi and Kareem, 1978). British Library (shelfmark pending)

The early lithographic presses also competed with each other on printing popular literary titles. The earliest literary text in the collection is from 1871, printed by the press of Kuññi Moosa, and was followed by a significant number of texts in the next year. During the same year, the press of Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad also marked its entry by printing the novel Cārdarveś, resulting in an apparent competition between the press of Kuññi Moosa and that of Arayālappuṟatt Kuññaḥammad. The British Library collection reveals that 1875 saw the peak of competition between the two presses in publishing literary texts containing panegyrics, hagiographies and different types of songs related to Islamic history. Surprisingly, KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī’s press only joined the trend of publishing literary texts in the early 1880s, after focusing earlier on core religious subjects such as jurisprudence and theology, with titles such as Manāsik al-ḥajj (1875), Īmān: Islām tarjama (1875), Wājibāt al-mukallafīn (1881) and so on. Muḥuyudhīn māla, printed in 1875, was the only exception to this.

By 1881, KoyāʿAlī Ḥājī’s press began printing literary texts containing panegyrics, song traditions such as Qiṣṣappāttu and Malappāttu, and other cultural forms of Persian tales, reaching a peak in 1883. Some of the common titles printed by all these publishers are Jinn pada paatt, Kavi pattukalum padangalum, Kappappatt, Yusuf qiṣṣa ppāttu, Valiya kaccodappātt, Tashrif oppana, and so on. However, both the British Library collection and the quarterly lists indicate an absence of publications from these presses in the 1890s, suggesting that by this date these presses might have closed, or changed their names.

Muhammed Khaleel

Muhammed Khaleel is a graduate (2025) of the  dual degree in MA Islamic studies and Muslim Cultures at Columbia university, New York and Aga Khan University, London. His research interests include history of occult sciences, manuscript cultures, history of science, book history and history of Arabi-Malayalam. E-mail: [email protected]

Further Reading
Aabu, O. (1970) Arabi Malayala sahitya caritram. Kottayam: sahitya pravrthaka co-operative society. 
Moulavi, C.A. and Kareem, K.A. (1978) Mahattāya mappila pārambaryam. Calicut: Paraspara sahayi co-operative press.

Editorial note, 3 July 2025: for further information on the British Library collection of Arabi-Malayalam printed books, see:
Arafath, P. Y. (2020). Polyglossic Malabar: Arabi-Malayalam and the Muhiyuddinmala in the age of transition (1600s–1750s). Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 30(3), 517-539.
Gamliel, O., & Kalluvalappil, S. A. (2024). Arabi-Malayalam disaster ballads: performative poetry and community resilience. Nidān, 8(2), 93-110.
Kooria, M. (2023). Arabic-Malayalam Texts at the British Library: Themes, Genres, and Production. International Journal of Islam in Asia, 3(1-2), 89-127.

The previous blog post in this series on the provenance of the Colebrooke Collection examined the story behind the Sanskrit legal manuscripts which form part of the Colebrooke Collection. The role of Indian ‘pandits’ in gathering these manuscripts is a vital part of this story, and this blog will delve deeper into the identities and stories of some of these figures. 

The title ‘pandit’ has its origins in the Sanskrit term ‘paṇḍita’, meaning a learned person. Specifically, this learning was rooted in the knowledge of Sanskrit, the ancient language of India, and the vast literature, going back millennia, composed in that language. Hindu religious texts were at the heart of this, but it also encompassed a wide range of disciplines across the sciences and humanities. The job of a pandit was to preserve and expound on this learning. He did this through memorising and reciting scriptures, producing copies of texts, writing commentaries, and by passing on his knowledge to his students. 

A number of East India Company employees, curious to learn more about Indian culture, had spent time studying Sanskrit with pandits. A few years following his arrival in India, Colebrooke began to do the same.

Citrapati and family
From 1789-94, Colebrooke was posted to Purnia, in north-eastern Bihar. Here, he encountered a pandit named Citrapati, who became one of his first teachers. Citrapati is named as the copyist of a manuscript in the Colebrooke Collection, produced in 1790, which is a copy of a twelfth-century text on algebra:  

The final page from the Bījagaṇita, the chapter on algebra in Bhāskara’s Siddhāntaśiromaṇi, which contains a colophon stating that the text was copied, ‘by order of Colebrooke Sahib, by Mahopādhyāya Citrapati’. ‘Mahopādhyāya’ is a title meaning ‘learned teacher’. British Library, IO San 871b

Colebrooke’s initial interest in learning Sanskrit, therefore, stemmed from a desire to learn about Indian mathematics. It’s an interest he later returned to, and in 1817 he would publish a translation of the above text, as a part of a larger work: Algebra, with Arithmetic and Mensuration, from the Sanscrit of Brahmegupta and Bhàscara.

In a letter to his father, in 1797, Colebrooke recalled that ‘the means of acquiring the Sanskrit language were by translating a grammar and several dictionaries of it, with the help of a Brahmin [the priestly caste, of which pandits were members]’ (T. E. Colebrooke 1873, p. 89). Indeed, many of the manuscripts in the Colebrooke Collection dating from these years are grammatical works, including this one: 

A page from a copy of the Dhātupradīpa. British Library, IO San 434a 

This is the final page of a copy of the Dhātupradīpa, a twelfth-century work on Sanskrit grammar by Maitreya Rakṣita. The text ends with a colophon, identifying the copyist as ‘Vrajanandana Śarman, sister's son (bhāgineyaḥ) of Citrapati Śarman of Dhamdaha’. Vrajanandana, is named as the copyist for several manuscripts in the Colebrooke Collection, and this reflects how the profession of a pandit was something associated with entire families, often through many generations. Another text, produced about the same time, provides a window into Colebrooke’s study of Sanskrit under Citrapati and Vrajanandana: 

A page from the Amarakoṣa. British Library, IO San 3162

The text contained in the box in the centre of the page is from the Amarakoṣa, an early Sanskrit dictionary, copied in Bengali script by Vrajanandana. In the margins, in Colebrooke’s hand, are extracts from commentaries, written in Devanagari script, as well as English translations of certain phrases.

Bābūrāma
In 1795, Colebrooke received a new posting in Mirzapur, and here he met other pandits who would go on to produce manuscripts for him. The following image is from a copy of the Mahābhārata in the Colebrooke Collection. A colophon (in red ink) states the copyist to be ‘Bābūrāma, a Brahman of Mirzapur.’

A colophon in a copy of the Mahābhārata. British Library, IO San 1771

Like Citrapati, Bābūrāma first worked for Colebrooke as a copyist. But they would both accompany Colebrooke as he moved to different postings over the course of his career, and would continue to be employed either directly by him, or in roles connected to Colebrooke’s official duties with the East India Company.

In 1795, Colebrooke was appointed judge and magistrate for Mirzapur, and he appointed Citrapati to his official staff, in the role of pandit to the district court of Mirzapur. In this capacity, Citrapati provided advice to ensure that decisions taken in the court were consistent with Hindu law. 

Citrapati also produced manuscripts to assist with Colebrooke’s judicial duties. In 1797, Colebrooke had submitted a proposal to compile and translate a supplementary digest of Hindu law for use in the courts under EIC jurisdiction. For this work he was granted funds ‘to entertain the establishment of Pundits required by him’ (IOR/F/4/39/974). Citrapati was one of those employed, and for this he produced the Vyavahārasiddhāntapīyūṣā, a compilation of Hindu law codes with an accompanying commentary.

From the Vyavahārasiddhāntapīyūṣā.  The colophon, highlighted in red, identifies Citrapati Śarman as the compiler of the text and author of the accompanying commentary. It also states that the manuscript was composed for tāmasa-henṛks-kolabruka-sāhebājñayā, i.e. Henry Thomas Colebrooke.  British Library, IO San 3143

In 1802, Colebrooke was appointed a judge of the superior court in Calcutta [Kolkata]. Citrapati accompanied him to Calcutta, and then in 1806 was himself appointed to the superior court, as one of the two pandits employed to give decisions on Hindu law as it related to cases being tried in this court. 

Bābūrāma also accompanied Colebrooke to Calcutta, but his career went in a different direction. In a letter in June 1806, Colebrooke informed his father that ‘a printing press has been recently established by natives to print Sanskrit books on their own account. The types have been considerably improved for the purpose, under my directions; for, as you may easily suppose, the press has been established on encouragement from me’ (quoted in T. E. Colebrooke 1873, p. 227). It was Bābūrāma who took charge of this enterprise, and from 1807 to 1815 his Sanskrit Press produced editions of sixteen separate works of Sanskrit literature.

The Government of Bengal were subscribers to most of Bābūrāma’s publications, usually at the recommendation of Fort William College, which had been founded in Calcutta in 1800 to provide training for new EIC recruits. In this way, Bābūrāma’s proposal to print an edition of the epic poem Kiratarjuniya with the commentary called Ghaṇṭāpatha was supported by the Sanskrit professor at the College, who commented that, ‘They are both classical works, and will be useful in the College as class books’ (IOR/P/8/36). The Government agreed to subscribe for a hundred copies, to be distributed among the EIC colleges in Calcutta, Madras [Chennai], and Hertfordshire.

Similarly, the Government of Bengal ordered multiple copies of four legal texts produced by Bābūrāma’s Sanskrit Press, which they distributed not only to the different EIC colleges, but also to all of their law courts. Two of these texts, the Mitākṣarā and Dāyabhāga, had been translated by Colebrooke for his Two Treatises on the Hindu Law of Inheritance, and it was largely due to Colebrooke’s opinion of the significance of these works that Bābūrāma’s editions received this support.

The careers of Citrapati and Bābūrāma were therefore closely entwined with that of Colebrooke. At a time when the EIC was seeking to establish a judicial framework for governing its subjects in South Asia, Colebrooke made himself indispensable with his in-depth knowledge of Hindu law. Citrapati and Bābūrāma, having guided Colebrooke in his Sanskrit studies, now also benefited from their patron’s rise. However, as the next blog post will show, although there were opportunities for pandits in the new India, their position was always a precarious one.

This is the third in a series of blog posts on the provenance of the Colebrooke collection of Sanskrit manuscripts in the British Library. The first post introduced the Colebrooke family and the East India Company, and the second post focused on Colebrooke's manuscripts on Hindu law.

Works consulted
Bābūrāma (ed.), Mitākṣarā (Calcutta: Sanskrit Press, 1812).
Bābūrāma (ed.), Dāyabhāga, with the commentary of Śrīkṛṣṇatarkālaṃkāra (Calcutta: Sanskrit Press, 1813).
Bābūrāma (ed.), Kiratarjuniya, with the commentary of Mallinātha called Ghaṇṭāpatha (Calcutta: Sanskrit Press, 1814).
Colebrooke, Henry Thomas, (trans.), Two Treatises on the Hindu Law of Inheritance (Calcutta: Hindoostanee Press, 1810).
Colebrooke, Henry Thomas, Algebra, with Arithmetic and Mensuration, from the Sanscrit of Brahmegupta and Bhàscara (London: John Murray, 1817).
Colebrooke, Thomas Edward, The Life of H. T. Colebrooke (London: Trübner, 1873).
Rocher, Rosanne and Rocher, Ludo, The Making of Western Indology: Henry Thomas Colebrooke and the East India Company (London: Routledge, 2012).

Letter from the Government of Bengal to the Court of Directors of the East India Company, 31 Jan 1798. British Library, IOR/F/4/39/974.
Letter from William Carey to Fort William College Council, 4 May 1814 (Government of Bengal Proceedings 19 Jul 1814, No. 34). British Library, IOR/P/8/36.
Amarakoṣa. British Library, IO San 3162.
Bījagaṇita (chapter on algebra from Bhāskara’s Siddhāntaśiromaṇi). British Library, IOL San 871b.
Dhātupradīpa. British Library, IO San 434a. 
Mahābhārata. British Library, IO San 1771.
Vyavahārasiddhāntapīyūṣā. British Library, IO San 3143.

David Woodbridge, Provenance Researcher Sanskrit Collections (REAP pilot project 2023-2025)

Across Southeast Asia, textiles were used to adorn, protect and to add merit and value to written works. These textiles are works of art in themselves, featuring intricate patterns and in some cases inscriptions that provide contextual information about manuscripts. Often, they were custom-made from valuable hand-woven silk brocades, dyed or painted cotton, as well as fabrics with complex designs made in the ikat technique. The use of imported materials like chintz, silk damask, felt, or printed fabrics reflects the trade and exchange relations within Southeast Asia and beyond.

A new display highlights the British Library’s collaboration with external experts and graduate students. Chevening Fellow Noon Methaporn Singhanan researched and catalogued manuscript textiles during a 12-month project in 2022-23 and Khin Kyi Phyu Thant described and translated Burmese Sazigyo (manuscript binding ribbons) during a five-week internship organised through the Southeast Asian Art Academic Programme of the School of Oriental and African Studies, London, in 2022.

Tube-skirt wrapper for palm leaf manuscripts. Northern Laos, mid-20th century, purchased in 2012. British Library, Or 16886

This protective wrapper was made from a re-purposed luxury tube-skirt to wrap around several bundles of palm leaf manuscripts. It originates from a Tai Moei ethnic community in northern Laos. The main section of this woman’s tube-skirt has an ikat pattern, where the yarn has been dyed before weaving. It is also intertwined with metal foil threads imported from Europe. The lower section, or 'foot', is a colourful woven textile made from silk and cotton yarns. Valuable textiles or clothes like this example were often re-purposed as wrappers for Buddhist scriptures in Laos and neighbouring regions. Donating clothes of deceased loved ones to re-use as manuscript wrappers was regarded as an act of merit in the Lao Buddhist tradition, and they reflected the faith and wealth of the deceased and the donors.

Burmese wrapping mat for a kammavaca manuscript. Myanmar (Burma), 18th century, purchased in 1838 from J. Polson Esq. British Library, Egerton MS 735

This vibrant mat was used to wrap a beautifully decorated, lacquered kammavaca manuscript which contains a ritual text in Pali language, used in monastic ordination ceremonies. The colourful zig-zag patterns were made locally by intertwining cotton yarn and bamboo slats. This type of manuscript cover was widely used in Myanmar, but also in Northern Thailand and Laos. The combination of bamboo slats and yarn made it very strong and therefore it protected the manuscript well against insects and the elements.

Burmese sazigyo with inscription. Myanmar (Burma), dated 1894, donated by Jill Morley Smith in 2011. British Library Or 16817

Sazigyo (binding ribbons) were made by women weavers in Myanmar to wrap around Buddhist palm leaf manuscripts. This multicoloured example of exceptional quality is nearly five metres long and contains text in round Burmese script, auspicious symbols and figures. It was made in the tablet weaving technique on a portable loom worn strapped around the back of the weaver. This method uses small tablets (or cards) with holes through which the threads of the warp are strung. Inscriptions and patterns are created by turning the tablets. Generally, the texts on sazigyo record merits or prayers, names of donors, and sometimes location and date of the donation.

Malay cloth envelope. Sumatra, Indonesia, 1824, Raffles Family Collection. British Library MSS EUR D.742/1/61

Malay letters to and from rulers were often sent in yellow silk or cotton envelopes. The name and address of the recipient was written on a piece of paper which was wrapped around the fabric pouch and fastened on the reverse by entwining the two intricately cut-out paper ends. Shown here are envelopes from two Royal Malay letters sent to Thomas Stamford Raffles, then Governor of Bengkulu on the island of Sumatra, in 1824. The yellow envelope (above) is made of imported patterned damask silk and was from the Adipati or senior minister of the city of Palembang, Sumatra. The plain cotton envelope (below) was from the Temenggung, the ruler of Johor on the Malay peninsula.

Malay cloth envelope. Johor, Malaysia, 1824, Raffles Family Collection, British Library MSS EUR D.742/1/149 & 180.

Curators of the Southeast Asia Section, with contributions by Noon Methaporn Singhanan and Khin Kyi Phyu Thant

Further reading
Burmese manuscript conservation success. Royal Asiatic Society (accessed 20 November 2024) 
Chan, Vanessa, Sarsikyo. Woven Buddhist ribbons of Myanmar. Nalanda-Sriwijaya Centre Working Paper No. 29 (Dec 2018) 
Igunma, Jana and Noon Methaporn Singhanan, Drawn from across the globe: manuscript textiles in the Southeast Asian collections. British Library Asian African Studies blog (2 October 2023) 

This is the second in a series of five blog posts on the provenance of the Colebrooke Collection of Sanskrit manuscripts now in the British Library, following the first post, which introduced the Colebrooke Family and the East India Company.

 

According to the historian Christopher Fleming, while in India, Colebrooke ‘assembled the world’s most extensive collection of Sanskrit legal manuscripts’ (Fleming 2021, p. 192). Why did he do this, and what is the story behind this?

 

Pages from Colebrooke’s copy of the Vyavahāratattva, a legal digest composed by the sixteenth-century scholar Raghunandana. These pages include Colebrooke’s own notes and translation. British Library, IO San 191c

 

Henry Thomas Colebrooke (1765-1837) arrived in India in 1783, while Warren Hastings was Governor General. In the preceding years, Hastings had been responsible for a range of reforms to the East India Company’s governance in India. One of the areas he focused on was the administration of justice. A new system of courts was set up, operating at local and regional levels and overseen by superior courts in Calcutta [Kolkata]. Though the judges were British, they were to try cases according to local law. Furthermore, in cases ‘regarding inheritance, marriage, and caste, and all religious usages and institutions’ this was to be tailored according to whether those appearing in the courts were of the Muslim or Hindu faith (IOR/V/8/15). To ensure this was done correctly, local law officers were appointed, and in the case of Hindu law, these officers were referred to as ‘pandits’.

 

For centuries it had been a practice in India for pandits who were experts in law to be consulted during legal disputes. The Company’s employment of them as law officers can therefore be seen as a continuation of this policy. At the same time, however, Hastings also sought to set down a standardised body of Hindu law ‘in order to render more complete the judicial regulations, to preclude arbitrary and partial judgements, and to guide the decisions of the several courts’ (IOR/E/4/31, f 447). A team of eleven pandits were commissioned to compile a suitable reference work, and a copy of their completed digest, titled Vivādārṇavasetu, can be found in the Colebrooke Collection (IO San 3145a). It was later translated, via Persian, into English as A Code of Gentoo Laws, or, Ordinations of the Pundits.

 

Front page of A Code of Gentoo Laws, or, Ordinations of the Pundits (London, 1776).  British Library, 26.i.6

 

Perceived deficiencies in Hasting’s code led to a new digest being commissioned, under the direction of the scholar and judge Sir William Jones. Again, pandits were employed to compile the material under the oversight of Jones, who was also to make a direct translation into English. However, Jones died before he could embark on this translation, and the task was taken up by Colebrooke. A copy of the original Sanskrit version of the digest, titled Vivādabhaṅgārṇava, can be found in the Colebrooke Collection (IO San 1767-1770), and the translation was published in 1798 as A Digest of Hindu Law on Contracts and Successions.

 

Front page to the first volume of A Digest of Hindu Law on Contracts and Successions (Calcutta, 1798). British Library, 5319.f.12.

 

However, Colebrooke was dissatisfied with this digest. In particular, he felt it was too long (the English translation consisted of four volumes), and he blamed this on the ‘copious commentary’ produced by Jagannātha Tarkapañcānana, the pandit in charge of the compilation (Colebrooke 1798, p. ix). Shortly after this, Colebrooke proposed a supplementary work and offered to oversee the work of the pandits, adding, "I should restrain the compilers from inserting a long train of argument in support, or in refutation, of the opinions cited by them, which has so greatly swelled the digest of Law on Contracts and Succession" (IOR/F/4/39/974)

 

The pandits, first and foremost, were scholars who were concerned with understanding the complexities of legal tradition and debate. The interpretation of Hindu law varied greatly across India, so for the pandits it was important to pay attention to these differences. Colebrooke, however, was concerned with establishing principles which could be applied in a uniform way across the different regions ruled by the British. He therefore became impatient with the pandits he employed for his new work. This is documented in a marginal note he added to a manuscript one of the pandits, called Bāla Śarman Pāyaguṇḍe, had produced for him: "After the experience I have had, that no Pandit is capable (or adapted by his habits of thinking) to compile a digest in the form I require, I must now seriously set about compiling it myself" (IO San 37).

 

A page from the Dharmaśāstrasaṃgraha with Colebrooke’s notes. British Library, IO San 37.

 

Colebrooke would continue to employ pandits to supply material for him, but he now took on responsibility for compiling the final text himself. His work on the supplementary digest continued for a number of years, but was ultimately abandoned. Instead, in 1810, Colebrooke published Two Treatises on the Hindu Law of Inheritance, an annotated English translation of the Dāyabhāga and the Mitākṣarā, two twelfth-century legal texts. In the preface, he explained why he had decided to publish this translation rather than his planned supplementary digest:

"In a general compilation, where the authorities are greatly multiplied, and the doctrines of many different schools, and of numerous authors are contrasted and compared, the reader is at a loss to collect the doctrines of a particular school and to follow the train of reasoning by which they are maintained. He is confounded by the perpetual conflict of discordant opinions and jarring deductions; and by the frequent transition from the positions of one sect to the principles of another. It may be useful then, that such a compilation should be preceded by the separate publication of the most approved works of each school. By exhibiting in an exact translation the text of the author with notes selected from the glosses of his commentators or from the works of other writers of the same school, a correct knowledge of that part of the Hindu law, which is expressly treated by him, will be made more easily attainable, than by trusting solely to a general compilation" (Colebrooke 1810, p. iii).

 

Colebrooke therefore sought to avoid the uncertainty and confusion created, as he saw it, by the many voices of Hindu legal scholarship, and instead to bring into focus what he identified as the two original and distinct ‘schools’ of law which existed in the regions of India under British rule. His translation included ‘annotations necessary to the illustration of the text’, but these, he explained, could be disregarded by those unfamiliar with Sanskrit. The English reader, he insisted, could rely on his scholarship:

"Having verified with great care the quotations of authors, as far as means are afforded to me by my own collection of Sanscrit law books (which includes, I believe, nearly all that are extant) I have added at the foot of the page notes of references to the places in which the texts are found. They will be satisfactory to the reader as demonstrating the general correctness of the original citations" (Colebrooke 1810, p. v).

 

Interestingly, then, the reason the Colebrooke Collection contains such a large number of Sanskrit legal manuscripts is Colebrooke’s dislike of the scholarly practices of the pandits who produced these manuscripts for him. Frustrated by their attention to the interpretative nuances of Hindu law, and desiring to produce a legal framework which could be easily applied by the British, Colebrooke took it upon himself to study and interpret Hindu law. To do this, he gathered his famous collection of Sanskrit legal manuscripts. However, despite his aversion to the methods of the pandits, he was nevertheless dependent on them to acquire, or produce, copies of the texts he required. The next blog post will look at the stories of two of these pandits.

 

In the third blog post on the provenance of the Colebrooke Collection, we will look at the stories of two of the pandits who worked with Colebrooke.

 

Works Consulted

Colebrooke, Henry Thomas (trans.), A Digest of Hindu Law on Contracts and Successions (Calcutta: Honourable Company's Press, 1798).

Colebrooke, Henry Thomas, (trans.), Two Treatises on the Hindu Law of Inheritance (Calcutta: Hindoostanee Press, 1810).

Fleming, Christopher T., Ownership and Inheritance in Sanskrit Jurisprudence (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021).

Letter from the Government of Bengal to the Court of Directors, 25 March 1773. British Library, IOR/E/4/31, f 447.

Letter from H. T. Colebrooke to the Government of Bengal, 20 August 1797. British Library, IOR/F/4/39/974.

Regulation No. 27, from Regulations for the Administration of Justice, recorded on the Revenue Proceedings of Government, on the 28th March 1780; and passed by the Governor General and Council on the 11th April 1780. British Library, IOR/V/8/15.

Dharmaśāstrasaṃgraha. British Library, IO San 37.

Vivādārṇavasetu. British Library, IO San 3145a.

Vivādabhaṅgārṇava. British Library, IO San 1767-1770.

 

David Woodbridge, Provenance Researcher Sanskrit Collections (REAP pilot project 2023-2025)

This is the first in a series of five blog posts on the provenance of the Colebrooke Collection of Sanskrit manuscripts in the British Library.

Bust of Henry Thomas Colebrooke (1765-1837), by Henry Weekes, commissioned by the Royal Asiatic Society in 1837. RAS 02.008 

‘I am commanded to offer you in the name of the Court their best thanks and acknowledgements for the present which you therein purport making to the Company of your collection of Oriental manuscripts, and to assure you of the high sense which they entertain of your obliging attention. The Court propose to set apart a portion of their library for the acception of these valuable manuscripts and to distinguish it by the name of the Colebrooke Collection.’ (Letter from the Court of Directors of the East India Company to Colebrooke, 24 April 1819. British Library, IOR/E/255, f 240).

The above is an extract from a letter that was sent to Henry Thomas Colebrooke (1765-1837) by the East India Company’s Court of Directors in London, on 24 April 1819. Four years previously, Colebrooke had returned to Britain after thirty-two years in India. His career had been an impressive one, beginning on the lower rungs of the Company’s civil service and rising up eventually to become a member of the supreme council of the Government of Bengal.

However, what Colebrooke is most remembered for today is his scholarship. While in India, he held the position of professor of Sanskrit at the College of Fort William,  founded by the EIC in Calcutta in 1800. And for the nine years prior to his departure in 1815 he was the president of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, the pre-eminent forum for Europeans pursuing research into any branch of enquiry relating to India. Later, in 1823, he would found the Royal Asiatic Society in London, in an attempt to replicate something of that interest in Britain.

Colebrooke’s most tangible legacy is his collection of over two thousand Sanskrit manuscripts, which he brought back with him from India and donated to the EIC’s Library (later renamed the India Office Library, and now part of the British Library). The ‘Colebrooke Collection’ covers a wide range of subjects, including religion, philosophy, law, grammar, poetry, mathematics, astronomy, and botany, and has been a vital resource for students in Britain and beyond.

A page from the Mahabharata, one of the manuscripts in the Colebrooke Collection. British Library, IO San 1771.

But what is the story behind the formation of this important collection? In particular, how did Colebrooke come to be in India? What influenced his interests and choices as he formed his collection? And how did he find and acquire the manuscripts themselves? These questions will be examined in a series of blog posts, of which this first post, on the Colebrooke Family and the East India Company, will provide some background to Colebrooke’s arrival in India.

Even before Henry Thomas set off for Asia, the Colebrooke family had become closely associated with the East India Company. His father, Sir George Colebrooke (1729-1809), was a wealthy and prominent banker, and made investments in EIC shares. In 1764, he became one of the Company’s proprietors, the elite group of shareholders who owned enough stock to qualify for a vote to elect the members of the Court of Directors. These members, who met in the Company’s headquarters in London, were responsible for overseeing all of its operations. Sir George himself became a member in 1767, and served three terms as chairman in 1769, 1770, and 1772.

As chairman, Sir George defended the EIC against criticism from within Britain and attempts to introduce greater government control over its activities. This criticism stemmed from the growing power of the Company in India, where it had been fighting wars, making deals with local rulers, and taking control of areas of territory. Many in Britain believed the EIC had gone beyond the bounds of acceptable activity for a trading organisation, and were concerned by reports of corruption and abuse of power. Sir George successfully resisted calls for greater government control. However, during his third term as president, the Company experienced a major financial crisis and had to appeal to the government for relief, which was damaging for Sir George’s reputation. But worse was to come, as his own financial affairs rapidly deteriorated, leading ultimately to bankruptcy.

Henry's father Sir George Colebrooke was a prominent figure in British public life, and as the EIC foundered under his leadership he was the subject of attacks in the press. This cartoon is from an edition of the Oxford Magazine published in 1773. Sir George is depicted in the centre, kneeling before Lord North, the Prime Minister, while handing him a bag of money and pleading ‘Save us my Lord or we perish.’  British Museum, 1868,0808.10039. © The Trustees of the British Museum

It was in this context that Henry Thomas, along with his elder brother, Edward (1761-1838), set out for Asia to work for the East India Company. For someone who had occupied positions of considerable status, Sir George would have envisaged a more elevated future for his sons than a career in India. But in the family’s reduced situation, the EIC offered a potential path to restoring their fortunes. Opportunities were highly sought after, but their father’s previous service doubtless counted in the sons’ favour, and both obtained positions as writers, that is, administrators, in India.

Henry Thomas Colebrooke arrived in India in 1783. In the wake of its crisis ten years previously, the EIC had undergone a number of reforms, with an emphasis on improving the standards of its administration. Colebrooke had therefore arrived at a time of great change for the Company. Though his father’s reputation and the family’s situation had been greatly damaged, he had nevertheless been granted an opening in EIC employment. There was a need for competent administrators who were willing to familiarise themselves with local conditions and devise ways for the EIC to transform itself into a responsible government. This is the context in which Colebrooke embarked upon his career in the Company’s service.

The second blog post in this series on the provenance of the Colebrooke Collection will be on Colebrooke’s manuscripts on Hindu law.

Works Consulted
Buchan, P. Bruce, ‘The East India Company 1749-1800: The Evolution of a Territorial Strategy and the Changing Role of the Directors’, Business and Economic History, 23:1 (1994).
Rocher, Rosanne and Rocher, Ludo, The Making of Western Indology: Henry Thomas Colebrooke and the East India Company (London: Routledge, 2012).
Letter from the Court of Directors of the East India Company to H. T. Colebrooke, 24 April 1819. British Library, IOR/E/255, f 240.

David Woodbridge, Provenance Researcher Sanskrit Collections (REAP pilot project 2023-2025)

 

Historical postcards in most cases are a simple reminder of commercial interests from a certain time or place, however when a collection is historically coherent, what can be identified is underlying propaganda, and mass commercial influence of a controversial period. A collection of over 500 mass-produced Japanese postcards (British Library, Photo 1418), grapples with these themes, presenting an eerie reminder of what a unified Korea under imperial Japan looked like. This collection was purchased by The British Library in 2018.

In 1910, after decades of political intervention, imperial Japan took control of the Korean Peninsula, a rule that would last until 1945. The annexation of Korea meant that for 35 years, the country would exist under Japanese administration by the name “Chosen” the Japanese version of the Korean term “Joseon”. The collapse of the Japanese Empire following WW2 led to the imminent Korean War dividing the landmass into what we now know as North Korea and South Korea. 

A postcard envelope advertising ‘Romantic Chosen’, British Library, Photo 1418(296)   

Produced by the Government Railways of Chosen, these commercial postcards would have been produced to encourage tourism; heritage sites Korea were advertised as top tourist destinations for Japanese travellers and settlers. The captions were written on the face of the images in both Japanese as well as in English, which is suggestive of production for a wider market. Today, they do much to reveal the history, landscape and architectural beauty of the peninsula before the Korean war and post-war modernization. However, commercially its layers of propaganda hint at the colonial policy and imperialist views of ethnic hierarchy of the Japanese Empire. 

'The view of the Emperor Ki Tsze's [Kija] Mausoleum, which tells us three thousand year’s history, Heijo [Pyongyang]'. British Library, Photo 1418(51)  

Take for example, the postcard above, that shows a mausoleum in Pyongyang commemorating the Chinese legend of Jizi, known as Kija in Korea. The caption reads ‘The view of the Emperor Ki Tsze's [Kija] Mausoleum, which tells us three thousand year’s history, Heijo [Pyongyang]’. The legend tells the story of how Shang Sage Jizi who belonged to the Shang dynastic family, fled to the Korean Peninsula, where he founded modern day Pyongyang. Essentially, the postcard was designed to promote a significant Korean site to the Japanese public including those who settled in Korea. The underlying message, however, enforces a notion that even Pyongyang was not founded by an “ethnic Korean” but by an outsider, much like the imperial Japanese. Making these connections is a deliberate display of controlling historical narrative through the tourist marketplace of Japan, to influence Japanese people and their understanding of Korean heritage. 

What is even more fascinating, is the role these postcards play when understanding the representation of Korean heritage and history over time. This particular monument fed a Japanese narrative of Korean citizens lacking claim to their heritage - today however, the story of Kija threatens the ideological beliefs of the current North Korean Administration. The importance of Kija to ethnic Koreans dates to the 14th century, and in 1570 King Seonjo of Korea instructed it to be mandatory that all those passing the mausoleum of Kija should dismount their horses to pay respect. Now however, Kija’s existence is disputed in North Korea, the story is deemed a glorified fabrication developed by the Japanese Empire and so the mausoleum is purposely excluded from the list of North Korean National Treasures. The site was allegedly excavated in the 1960’s, but records of its condition since then are unclear, and it is highly likely that the mausoleum has been demolished. 

Golden Buddha statue in Daeungjeong Pavillion in Bulguksa Temple, Gyeongju, South Korea, British Library, Photo 1418(233)   

On the brighter side of these picturesque postcards, they collectively provide us with the opportunity to study the sceneries of landscapes, Buddhist temples, legendary shrines and royal tombs in South Korea. There are also a series of street scenes under Japanese occupation in some of South Korea’s now major metropolitan cities such as Daegu (Taikyu) and Busan (Fusan).  

‘Motomachi Street with a row of shops, Taikyu [Daegu]’, British Library, Photo 1418(114)

For those interested in the historic sites of North Korea, these postcards present the rare angles of landmarks such as Chilsong Gate and Moran Hill which have drastically changed in the present DPRK. 

‘The full view of Daido Gate (Taedongmun Gate), the model building built 500 hundred years ago at Heijo (Pyongyang)’, British Library, Photo 1418(20)

Holistically, the collection exists as a coherent resource that can be consulted when studying the cultural propaganda that operated under Japanese colonial rule as well as researching the monuments and architecture of a unified Korea. Housed in the British Library Visual Arts Collection, these postcards are currently undergoing cataloging and once completed will be available for readers to request in the Print Room. 

Prints, drawings and photographs held in the Visual Arts collection can be consulted in the Print Room, located inside the Asia and Africa Reading Room. The Print Room is open by appointment on weekday mornings from 10-12.30. For appointment requests and for any questions regarding this collection, please email [email protected]. 

 

Simran Bance, Print Room Coordinator and Cataloguer

 

Further Reading:  

Uchida, Jun, Brokers of Empire: Japanese Settler Colonialism in Korea, 1876-1945, (2011) 

Todd, A. Henry, Assimilating Seoul: Japanese rule and the politics of public space in colonial Korea, 1910 –1945 (2014) 

Hong Yung Lee, Clark W. Sorensen, Yong-Chool Ha, Colonial Rule and Social Change in Korea 1910-1945 (2013) 

Catalogue of Photographs from The British Library, The National Archives 

The start of Genesis in the Armenian Bible donated by Baroness Zouche. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 3r)

In the run-up to Easter, we had a little surprise. By “we” I mean my family, not the Library. Late in March, two pigeons showed up to scope out our flower box. Then they brought twigs. Then they built a nest. Finally, one Monday, coming back from a weekend away, we noticed two unattended white eggs. One of the adults soon returned and stayed put. Pigeons take turns incubating their eggs, which means that one of the two parents was always there eyeing us suspiciously. Eventually, the eggs hatched and now two beautiful little pigeons (or squabs, to use the technical term) have their breakfast and dinner along with us – separated, naturally, by several layers of glass.

Eggs are, of course, associated with Easter. In this blog, however, I’m going to look at what comes after the egg: the bird. In the last week and a half of Lent, as our little soon-to-be-feather friends grew, I saw birds everywhere I looked. Some were even in the manuscripts.

The beginning of readings for the Saturday of Light, starting a midnight on Good Friday. (Nitria, Egypt. 1274 CE) (Add MS 5997, f 260r)

The first fowl incident came while helping a researcher in Canada locate a passage relating to the Saturday of Light (سبت النور) or Holy Saturday in Add MS 5997, a Bohairic Copto-Arabic Lectionary completed in 1274 CE. A lectionary is a collection of readings from Scripture tied to specific dates and events throughout the year. The practice isn’t unique to Christianity; Jews also make use of Parashat ha-Shavua (פָּרָשַׁת הַשָּׁבוּעַ), or weekly readings from the Torah, although these are not compiled into a separate book. As I learned recently, Copts have a variety of different lectionaries. Some might be for the whole year, others for Lent. Add MS 5997 is one intended just for the Easter period (كتاب البصخة المقدسة), containing explanations at the start of each selection informing readers when the passages should be read and where they come from.

A detail of the triple arch beginning the text for the Saturday of Light and the fowl motif on the right. (Nitria, Egypt. 1274 CE) (Add MS 5997, f 260r)

Lo and behold, at the bottom of folio 260r is the start of the Reading for the beginning Holy Saturday and with it, a long-necked bird with a black head and red comb, looking shyly at the margin above. This feathered friend caught my eye – once I had confirmed that I had the passage I need – and so too did dozen of their mates and siblings scattered across the manuscript. As Maria Cramer explains, birds and indeed animals of various types - dogs and gazelles among them - have featured in Coptic manuscripts from the first millennium onwards. And this continues on a long tradition from Ancient Egyptian artwork, which is itself heavily imbued with imagery from the animal kingdom. 

While the presence of birds was a welcome surprise – especially given our recent guests – it also rang a bell. Fowl, of course, feature in manuscripts in many other cultures. Whether in margins and letters, or as images for literary or historical accounts, which illustrator or illuminator didn’t love birds? But birds also play a special role in manuscripts from a nation in communion with the Copts: Armenian ones. Here, the use of birds to form capital letters is so common as to have its own name, t’rch’nagir (թռչնագիր), or bird-letter.

Where better to see the tradition than in one of the most stunning examples of this art, the Armenian Old and New Testaments copied in 1646 CE and donated to the Library by Darea Curzon, the 16^th Baroness Zouche (Or 8833)? While the 13^th-century Copto-Arabic Easter Lectionary features feathery friends with personality, the Armenian masterpiece brings them to us in their finery. The most impressing example, by far, is the start of Genesis. Here, a glorious frontispiece features the Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus, the four Apostles (including John with his associated eagle), and four elegant gold-and-navy peacocks. But below this panoply of visual sensations is the first word of the Old Testament, featuring an angel killing a dragon as the letter ini (Ի), followed by the rest of the word skězpanē (Սկըզբանէ; in the beginning) with each letter spelled out by intricate, lavish birds.

The Classical Armenian word for "beginning" fashioned from birds. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 3r)

Father Vrej Nersessian, our former Lead Curator of the Christian Orient, provided a detailed explanation of the significance of various birds. In doing so, he relies on the analysis conducted by Catholicos Nersēs IV the Gracious: “The Bible has for Nersēs Šnorhali a paradigmatic value. It traces the parameters within which all history is to be understood.” As such, it should not be a surprise that the birds appearing in Biblical manuscript illustration and illumination are themselves steeped in meaning. And, when it comes to the decoration of the Canon Tables, which provide internal correspondences between the four Apostles’ accounts about Jesus’ life, as well as those that are unique: “Through the visual pleasures of the Canon Tables one is supposed to ascend to the spiritual enjoyment of the Gospels themselves.” So then, to what heights are these winged friends carrying us? 

Canon Tables from the Armenian Bible donated by Baroness Zouche. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, ff 462r and 466 r) 

The discussion here is quite complicated, but to summarize: the eagle represents Christ, although it can also be the sign of the Apostle John; the cock is the advent of Christ; doves are the gift of the Holy Spirit; partridges are the sex workers who feature in Jesus’ story; fishing birds are symbols of the Apostles; and peacocks are the “purity of angelic spirits.” Monkeys and lions, Father Vrej informs us, are later additions coming from Western European sources.

A detail of a page of the Gospels showing a marginal avian decoration. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 699r)

Given this rich collection of different symbols and allusions, it should be no surprise that we find peacocks, roosters and, yes, even monkeys and lions, in the Canon Table menagerie. And, of course, other birds embellishing the margins. These are harder to identify, but it might just be that I’m not much of a birder.

The frontispiece of the Gospel of John featuring the Apostle below two birds. (Monastery of Yaspisunkal, Arjish, now Erciş, Türkiye. 1281 CE) (Or 2679, f 222v). 

Or 8833 is a high point of illustration and illumination. But birds and their various stylizations can be found in other manuscripts as well, sometimes less elegant or intricate, but still eye-catching in their own way. The two Bible manuscripts Or 2679 and Or 2680, both acquired from Reverend S. Baronian in 1883, provide us with a few interesting examples. The former contains a delightful frontispiece to the Gospel of John where the Apostle, presumably seated with pen and paper in hand, is under two gormless long-tailed birds. Throughout the manuscript, these cartoonish, elongated fowl can be found in the margins of pages, their tail feathers and crowns so crenellated they look almost like ferns.

The start of the Gospel of Matthew with "harpies" and human-as-letter. (Copied by Astuadzatur, 1317 CE) (Or 2780, f 10r)

In many ways, however, the birds – whatever their species – quickly fade from memory as soon as you encounter another inhabitant of the pages of both Or 2679 and Or 2680. These are fantastical creatures that marry the body of a bird and the head of a man, which Conybeare identifies as harpies. I think this is likely an unfair assumption. In the latter manuscript, an early 13^th-century copy of the Bible, two sit in the frontispiece above the start of the Gospel of Matthew, their bobs immaculate, looking suspiciously at the gutter and margin. In Or 2679, by contrast, the bird’s crown is never unequivocally converted from feathers to metalwork, providing a delightful ambiguity between what is human and what belongs to our flying friends. As with the full birds, the half-man, half-bird creatures in Or 2679 have expressions that often dance between stupor and wonder, leaving this birdwatching newbie to ponder their meaning vis-à-vis the Biblical text.

A detail of marginal decoration featuring a half-man, half-bird creature. (Monastery of Yaspisunkal, Arjish, now Erciş, Türkiye. 1281 CE) (Or 2679, f 222v). 

This Easter season, whether you celebrate or not, I hope that this blog has brought a little bit of curiosity about our feathered neighbours as well as the rich art found of Armenian and Coptic manuscripts. While you bite into your creme egg, take a moment to ponder the wonders of avian world and how it inspired artists and creators for millennium.

Dr. Michael Erdman, Head, Middle East and Central Asia 🐦

I’d like to thank Émile Tadros for his patience in guiding me through Add MS 5997, and to the Coptic clergy from the Diocese of London for sharing their accumulated wisdom and experience.

Works consulted

Conybeare, Frederick Cornwallis, A catalogue of the Armenian manuscripts in the British Museum (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1913).

Cramer, Maria, Koptische Buchmalerei: Illuminationen in Manuskripten des christlich-koptischen Ägypten vom 4. bis 19. Jahrhundert (Recklinghausen: A. Bongers, 1964).

Cramer, Maria, 'Studien zu koptischen Pascha-Büchern: Der Ritus der Karwoche in der koptischen Kirche,' Oriens Christianus (September 1963), Vol. 47, pp. 118-128.

Crum, Walter Ewing, Catalogue of the Coptic Manuscripts in the British Museum (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1905).

Nersessian, Vrej, A catalogue of the Armenian manuscripts in the British Library acquired since the year 1913 and of collections in other libraries in the United Kingdom (London: The British Library, 2012).