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 EIC’s college, founded 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, IOR 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).