10 April 2014
My Kingdom for a Horse
Recently we had an enquiry about an unusual image that appears in the Rochester Bestiary. This famous English book of beasts, which dates to the mid-13th century, has featured quite prominently in our ongoing series about medieval animals; have a look at our posts about lions, beavers, dogs, wolves, elephants, and hedgehogs, for example.
The particular miniature in question can be seen below. ‘Why,’ asks our slightly tongue-in-cheek correspondent, ‘are those horses having a cuddle?’.
Detail of a miniature of two horses and two men, from the Rochester Bestiary, England (Rochester?), c. 1230, Royal MS 12 F XIII, f. 42v
At first glance, it certainly does appear that this is what’s going on here. We are sad to report, however, that the truth is not quite so full of squee – rather than cuddling, these horses are in fact fighting one another. An inscription in French intended to guide the illuminator can be found beside the miniature, telling us that it is meant to represent two knights and two horses engaged in combat (see below for a detail of this inscription).
Detail of an inscription beside the miniature of the two horses and two men, altered to increase legibility, Royal MS 12 F XIII, f. 42v
This is a fascinating scene, and as far as we can tell, a unique one among bestiary images. The Rochester Bestiary is notable in that the miniatures illustrating each animal appear at the end of the relevant section, rather than at the beginning (for an example of the latter, see the Royal Bestiary: Royal MS 12 C XIX). The Royal Bestiary gives us a much more typical example of the kind of horse to be found in the book of beasts:
Detail of a miniature of a horse at the beginning of the text about that animal, from a bestiary with theological texts, England, c. 1200 – c. 1210, Royal MS 12 C XIX, f. 34r
A horse (of course) was an animal that every medieval reader would have been familiar with, and so most bestiaries depict the animal just as they are, with little in the way of drama or exposition in the scene. The Rochester miniature is different, although we're not sure why. However, there are a few clues – albeit indirect ones – in the text preceding this fascinating scene.
Horses in the early medieval period were largely the possessions of the aristocracy and warrior classes, and the bestiary text reflects their crucial role in battle. Horses, we are told, rejoice in winning and are disheartened by defeat, and some can become so carried away that they will bite their enemies whilst fighting. But most importantly, a noble horse is loyal to his noble master, will ‘suffer no one except their master to ride them’, and will weep at the death of its owner. Amongst many examples of loyal horses, the bestiary text provides us with the story of the horse belonging to the king of the Scythians. This king was killed in single combat, and when his opponent tried to divest him of his armour, the king’s horse attacked, biting and kicking until he was killed himself.
This is not exactly what is going on in the Rochester scene, but it’s as close as we can come. We have here a depiction of a story that is not reflected in any of the canonical bestiary texts – nor any others that we have yet uncovered. We see two horses so faithful to their masters that when the warriors are fighting, the horses mirror their aggression and attack one another. Whether this scene is reflective of a parallel narrative tradition lost to us today or simply an artist’s unique interpretation of the instructions left for him remains to be determined.
- Sarah J Biggs
08 April 2014
Fore! The British Library's Golf Book
The 2014 Masters starts at Augusta this week (that's golf for the uninitiated). And what better way to kick things off -- to mangle a sporting analogy -- than with this famous image from the Golf Book. The modern game of golf has its origins in 15th-century Scotland, when King James II had it banned, in order that his subjects should devote more of their time to practising archery. There were, however, other ancient and medieval games which resembled the game of golf, from China, Persia and Rome, among other places. Some say that golf developed from cambuca (chambot in French), a game played with a stick and a wooden ball that was taken up in the Low Countries and Germany.
A game resembling golf in the Golf Book (London, British Library, MS Additional 24098, f. 27r).
We very much doubt that the modern golf professionals playing at Augusta will care for these niceties. But they might be interested to see this page from the British Library's Golf Book (Add MS 24098, available in full on our Digitised Manuscripts site). We have featured this manuscript before, most notably as our calendar for 2013 (see the month of September) and in the post A Good Walk Spoiled. The splendid book in question was made at Bruges around the year 1540, and the illumination is attributable to the famous Simon Bening (d. 1561) and his workshop.
You may wonder if the players in the bas-de-page scene are engaged in golf or in a game similar to cambuca. But we do suspect that the name "the Cambuca Book" would never have taken on, don't you agree? Watch out for those flying golf balls ...
Julian Harrison
03 April 2014
Stuck in Limbo: Dante's Purgatorio
As was the case for the souls condemned to Hell in Dante’s Inferno (described in our previous post No Rest for the Wicked), the punishment for those in Purgatory matches the crime. But, unlike Hell, the punishments in Purgatory were intended to improve and purify the souls in question, those who could be saved but still needed a little improvement before making their way to Heaven. In one of the first scenes in Purgatory, the proud bear great stones upon their backs (see below).
Could the artist of this manuscript know that Dante included among the proud one Oderisi of Gubbio, a famed illustrator of illuminated manuscripts who took a little too much pride in his work! Is this a warning to all of us who work in the field of manuscripts studies?
The proud in Purgatory, Italy (Emilia or Padua), late 14th century, Egerton MS 943, f. 82r
In Purgatory, the avaricious and greedy are shown lying face down on the ground. Dante meets Pope Adrian V here. Dante certainly wasn’t afraid to take the powerful to task for their misdeed – he even sent another Pope, Boniface VIII, straight to Hell!
The avaricious, Egerton MS 943, f. 97v
After passing through much of Purgatory, Dante, Virgil and another poet, Statius, must pass through a wall of fire to be worthy of reaching the Earthly Paradise, or the Garden of Eden, at the summit of Mount Purgatory (see below).
The wall of fire, Egerton MS 943, f. 112r
Below can be seen the Garden of Eden; Dante (and the capable artist of this manuscript) drew on some unusual biblical imagery to depict the Four Evangelists here as four-headed creatures. As the three observers in the Garden of Eden look on, a parade of Christian symbols pass them, re-enacting the drama of salvation – much like the parades that would have proceeded through Florence on every holy day. This parade seems to be building up to something… we sense someone important is on the way, but who could it be?
The four winged beasts in the Garden of Eden, Egerton MS 943, f. 116v
A griffin pulling a chariot, Egerton MS 943, f. 117r
It is Beatrice Portinari, in a chariot drawn by griffins! Beatrice was Dante’s muse and true love, despite the fact that they only met twice in real life (and those encounters were more or less in passing). It is here that many begin to feel a certain distance from the poem. Dante of course wrote in the tradition of courtly love, where the beloved was meant to be entirely unattainable, but it is difficult for the modern reader to be terribly sympathetic about Dante’s deep longing for Beatrice, considering she probably had no idea who he was. One also can’t help but feel some sympathy for Dante’s poor wife Gemma di Manetto Donati; she never got a single mention in any of his poetry (so it’s no wonder she didn’t accompany him when he was forced out of Florence!).
Note that Dante seems a little apprehensive in the miniature below. It almost appears as though he’s being dragged along; could it be that he senses that Beatrice isn’t very pleased to see him?
Dante is led to Beatrice, Egerton MS 943, f. 121r
Poor Dante. He has travelled all this way to get to his lady-love and she greets him with anger. Many consider this to be the funniest bit of the Purgatory – Dante cowering like a hen-pecked husband while Beatrice brutally scolds him for his conduct. She tells him that was sent by God so that her physical perfection would inspire him to contemplate the beauty of the divine, but instead he got distracted and chased after other girls. Though she’s presented elsewhere as an idealised and static muse for Dante, our manuscript’s artist perfectly captures something of Beatrice’s fire in this scene.
This moment really is the dramatic climax of the poem as a whole. The meeting with Beatrice represents a chance for everything Dante longed for most, forgiveness for his sins, and a final reconciliation with his love.
Dante and Beatrice meeting, Egerton MS 943, f. 124v
Dante is so contrite (and a little pathetic) that Beatrice eventually forgives him, and takes over from Virgil as his guide into the highest reaches of Purgatory and on to heaven. Dante’s adoration of Beatrice as they travel in the poem is so touching that we can almost forget the strangeness of their real-life acquaintance. Their second and final meeting, we are told, took place on a bridge in Florence, when Beatrice passed Dante by chance and smiled at him. That single moment was enough for Dante to make Beatrice’s smile the very image of divine beauty. Heaven is simply full of smiles and laughter, in the Paradiso, the third and final act of the poem.
Stay tuned for another post about Dante’s Paradiso!
- Arthur Westwell
27 March 2014
Say Your Prayers
A new addition to Digitised Manuscripts comes in the form of Add MS 50005, a Book of Hours in Dutch, which the British Library acquired from the Dyson Perrins collection in the 1950s. The core of the book was written by one hand, c. 1410-c. 1420, perhaps in Utrecht or Delft. It contains devotional texts such as the Hours of the Virgin and the Little Hours of the Cross, as well as prayers to the Virgin Mary and Christ, the Crucifix and God. Whereas Books of Hours made in England or France would have been written in Latin, this example is written entirely in Middle Dutch. Nor is it unusual; most Books of Hours from the Netherlands are written in the vernacular.
Historiated initial incorporating the Nursing Madonna (‘Maria Lactans’) at the opening of the Hours of the Virgin, from a Book of Hours in Middle Dutch, Netherlands (?Utrecht or ?Delft), c. 1410-c. 1420, Add MS 50005, f. 8r
The use of Dutch in this way was the outcome of a religious movement known as the Devotio Moderna, which sought to encourage a personal, emotional style of devotion that was accessible to all literate people. This Book of Hours is decorated with a series of 66 miniatures illustrating scenes from the lives of Joachim and Anna, their daughter the Virgin Mary, and her son Jesus Christ. The miniatures are lively and expressive: the characters are shown moving, gesturing or performing ceremonial duties. Being unframed, this sense of activity spills out into the margins, drawing the scenes and the text closer together.
Miniature of the Disputation in the Temple, Add MS 50005, f. 60v
The miniatures can also be visceral and unsettling. On f. 59v, under the orders of Herod, and unmoved by the pleas of its mother, a soldier is stamping on an infant and impaling it with his sword; the child’s blood is shown spilling over his boot and onto the grass. On f. 106v, Christ is tied to a pillar; his torturers are captured mid-swing, one lifting his whip above his head, the other poised to strike a sideways blow on Christ’s already lacerated body, while Pilate is standing in the background, looking on impassively. The captions directly address the reader and employ the dramatic present tense to pull them into the action: ‘Here does Herod kill the innocent children’; ‘Here they scourge Jesus’.
Miniature of the Massacre of the Innocents, Add MS 50005, f. 59v
Miniature of Christ’s scourging, Add MS 50005, f. 106v
The artist responsible for these miniatures has been identified by James Marrow as ‘The Master of the Morgan Infancy Cycle’. He is named after his work in M. 866 at the Pierpont Morgan Library, and he is known only through other decorated Books of Hours: Liège, Bibliothèque de l’Université, MS Wittert 35; Utrecht, Universiteitsbibliothek, MS 5.J.26; Berlin, Staatsbibliothek Preussischer Kulturbesitz, MS Germ. oct. 680; and Berlin, Kupferstichkabinet, no. 2302 (a single detached miniature).
Miniature of soldiers casting lots for Christ’s garments, Add MS 50005, f. 119v
The insertion of other texts by other hands in this book presents not only a challenge to the boldest manuscript cataloguer, but also insights into how medieval Books of Hours could be customised and augmented. The book was added to in two stages during the fifteenth century. The first additions were made around the mid-fifteenth century, almost entirely on the blank recto sides of leaves containing miniatures on the verso. The interspersing of new texts among the old seems confusing to modern eyes, but it reflects the emendator’s thoughtful approach to what would be appropriate in the book.
A note on three things necessary for salvation, the first page of additions made by ‘Hand 2’ in the mid-fifteenth century, Add MS 50005, f. 83r.
Placing some of the inserted prayers on blank leaves at the front of the volume would have avoided the chopping and changing between texts from f. 95r to 138r, but it would have upset the textual hierarchy by moving the Hours of the Virgin to second place in the volume. The emendator began his or her additions immediately after this most important text in the volume, slotting them among the Little Hours of the Cross so that the new prayers were grouped with those originally placed in the volume.
A prayer to St Erasmus (‘O heilighe martelaer Christi sinte erasme’), the first page of additions made by ‘Hand 3’ in the second half of the fifteenth century, Add MS 50005, f. 159v.
The second additions were made later in the fifteenth century, more straightforwardly to blank leaves and possibly inserted quires at the end of the volume. Whereas prayers found earlier in the volume are directed to God, Christ, or the Virgin Mary, these address a variety of saints – St Erasmus, St Katherine, St Agatha, St Stephen, St Agnes and St Francis – that might reflect the particular devotional interests of the book’s owner.
Miniature of a laywoman kneeling in prayer before the Virgin and Child, Add MS 50005, f. 155v.
There is no firm evidence of provenance in the manuscript. The final miniature depicts a laywoman – perhaps the original owner of the book – kneeling in prayer before the Virgin and Child. A similarly dressed figure is shown attending upon Anna at the birth of Mary (f. 5v), and upon Mary at the birth of Jesus (f. 22v), sitting with the shepherds at the Annunciation (f. 36v), greeting the Magi at the Adoration (f. 45v), and holding a bell-rope at the Purification (f. 46v).
Miniature of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, Add MS 50005, f. 5v.
Miniature of the Adoration of the Magi, Add MS 50005, f. 45v.
The book seems to have remained in female possession, perhaps belonging a Sister of the Common Life, one of the pious lay groups associated with the Devotio Moderna. An exhortation on the Passion is addressed specifically to a sister – ‘O mijn gheminde suster’ (‘O my beloved sister’, f. 162r) – and includes the phrase ‘soe moecht ghi een ghewarich dienster Christi worden’ (‘may you become a true servant of Christ’, ff. 164r-164v). It was with this goal in mind that the many owners of this and other Books of Hours pored over their precious manuscripts, reciting the prayers and meditating upon the suffering of their Saviour.
- James Freeman
22 March 2014
Blogtastic!
You may recall that we asked for your help earlier this year, when we asked for your votes in the inaugural National UK Blog Awards (Vote for Us Please). We're delighted to tell you that, thanks to your overwhelming support, we have made the list of finalists in the Arts and Culture category. We understand that more than 16,000 votes were cast in total (not all for us obviously), but we are hugely grateful for your support: every little vote really did count! You can read more about the National UK Blog Awards here.
The Benedictional of St Æthelwold, from our blogpost More Unique Than Most (4 February 2014)
The awards ceremony itself takes place on 25 April. We are dusting off our snappiest suits and poshest frocks, to make a good impression on the night itself. Most of our time we spend hovering over our computers, beavering away to make our collections available online or dreaming up ever more outlandish blogposts (and a thousand other things besides). It's great to know that somebody out there is impressed by what we have been doing.
Imaging the manuscript of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, from our blogpost Gawain Revealed (23 February 2014)
Since the time we asked for your votes, here are some of the stories we have posted on the Medieval Manuscripts Blog. We hope that there will be many more like these to come. Let us know your favourite by tweeting @BLMedieval.
A Papyrus Puzzle and Some Purple Parchment
An Illustrated Guide to Medieval Love
Medieval Drama Acquired by the British Library
More Unique Than Most: The Benedictional of St Æthelwold
She Cares Not a Turd: Notes on a 16th Century Squabble
Two Magnificent Manuscripts Saved for the Nation
The Mystère de la Vengeance, from our blogpost Medieval Drama Acquired by the British Library (6 March 2014)
Julian Harrison and Sarah J Biggs
20 March 2014
Update to the Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts
Here in the British Library’s department of Medieval and Earlier Manuscripts, we work tirelessly to make our collections accessible and better known among scholars and the public. While much attention focuses on our Digitised Manuscripts resource, let’s not forget about the Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts.
Text page fragments in uncial script, from Cyprian’s Epistles, North Africa (Carthage?), 4th – 5th centuries, Add MS 40165A, f. 1r
Recently updated, CIM (as we like to call it) now boasts a total of 4,277 manuscripts and some 36,163 images. These range from a 4th/5th-century copy of Cyprian’s Epistles, perhaps brought to England by Theodore of Tarsus and Hadrian of Canterbury (Add MS 40165A), to a collection of facsimile manuscript pages produced in 1873 by John Obadiah Westwood, a palaeographer and entomologist (Egerton MS 2263) – with a lot in between.
Since the last update in August 2013, we have been cataloguing Anglo-Norman manuscripts from the Additional collection. Although some of them only contain only decorated initials, the contents are wide-ranging and filled with surprises.
Here are a few favourites (with more to come, so stay tuned!):
The earliest English cookbooks? (Add MS 32085 and Royal MS 12 C XII)
Puzzle initial, from the legal text 'Sentencia Super Easdem Cartas', England, late 13th or early 14th century, Add MS 32085, f. 11r.
Both manuscripts contain a varied collection of miscellaneous texts – from prophecies to arithmetical puzzles, from charters to a lapidary – bound together after they were copied. They have one ingredient in common: collections of recipes in Anglo-Norman French, believed to be the earliest surviving examples of English cuisine. If you fancy trying your hand at medieval cookery, check out Constance B. Hieatt and Robin F. Jones’s edition and translation.
Some of the recipes are mouth-watering (but no roasted unicorn, sadly), and the names are especially appetising:
Teste de Tourk (Turk’s Head): a type of quiche filled with rabbits and poultry; add eels to ‘enhance’ the flavour!
Nag’s tail: the ingredients include pigs’ trotters and ears, grease and wine.
Sang Dragoun: dragon’s blood is a colourful name for what appears to be rice pudding.
Tardpolene: alas, no tadpoles, but just soft cheese, dates and almonds.
Scientific and chiromantic texts (Add MS 18210)
This scientific compilation contains Latin texts by Galen, the ‘Dragmaticon’ of William of Conches (tutor to Henry II), as well as some texts on telling the future. Two are unique to this manuscript: one on spatulomancy/scapulamancy (divination through the use of a shoulder-bone), and another on haematoscopy (prognostication through the examination of blood). A less visceral means of forecasting is recorded in a treatise on geomancy, where one must interpret the patterns formed by tossing handfuls of rocks on the ground. A handy table is provided as a guide:
Table of patterns, from a treatise on geomancy, England or N. France, c. 1275- c. 1325, Add MS 18210, f. 93r.
Who wouldn’t want the stones to predict ‘proesces ioie et leesce et richesces et si signifie grant profit’ (nobility, joy, gladness, riches and great profit)?
We have also continued to update and augment entries with further details on the contents, provenance and bibliographies relating to illuminated manuscripts. Tune in for some further highlights later on.
Don’t forget that it’s possible to find manuscripts in the Catalogue by means other than their shelfmarks. One can conduct advanced searches by keyword, date range, language, provenance, scribe, artist – and so on! You can bring together manuscripts of the same period in order to compare decorative styles, or see examples of a specific artist’s work at a glance. One of the best features is that you can search for keywords within the images (try searching for ‘snail’ and see what comes up!).
The Catalogue also includes virtual exhibitions of British Library manuscripts, and an illustrated glossary (most useful for getting to grips with tricky terminology). Enjoy!
- James Freeman and Chantry Westwell
17 March 2014
The Legacy of St Patrick
The story of Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, is well known: how, as a young man, he was kidnapped from Britain and spent years enslaved as a shepherd in Ireland; and how, after escaping home, he returned to convert the Irish to Christianity. On this St Patrick’s Day, we thought we’d tell you a bit about some of the British Library’s holdings that relate to the life and legend of the saint himself.
St Patrick asleep, with a figure holding a book. France, 2nd quarter of the 13th century (London, British Library, MS Royal 20 D VI, f 213v)
Two surviving Latin works are now generally believed to be by Patrick, namely the Confessio and his letter to Coroticus. These works are preserved in 8 manuscripts, and one of them is held here at the British Library: Cotton MS Nero E I, part I, ff 169v-174v, contains the Confessio followed by Patrick's letter to Coroticus among a collection of other saints' Lives, copied at Worcester Cathedral Priory in the 2nd half of the 11th century. You can view the Patrick sections of this manuscript, together with all the other manuscripts of Patrick’s works and much more, on the marvellous Saint Patrick’s Confessio website hosted by the Royal Irish Academy.
Patrick was an extremely popular saint throughout the Middle Ages, and was frequently depicted in medieval art. Above is an example taken from a lavishly-illuminated volume of the Lives of the Saints, showing Patrick asleep on a knoll. Next to him is a figure holding a book, who has not so far been identified.
Here is a second example, also from our Royal Manuscripts collection:
St Patrick standing on a snake in Purgatory: England, 1451 (London, British Library, MS Royal 17 B XLIII, f 132v)
This image comes at the beginning of an account of a vision of St Patrick in Purgatory, as seen by William Staunton of county Durham on Friday, 20 September 1409 (ff 133r-148v). It is one of a number of medieval accounts of St Patrick’s visit to Purgatory, the entrance to which was located, according to legend, on Station Island in Lough Derg. Unusually in this image, the depiction of Patrick in Purgatory is combined with an image of Patrick trampling on a snake, a reference to the traditional belief that Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland.
Patrick’s popularity is also reflected in the numerous later stories, poems and hymns about him written in Irish. There is not space here to detail all of them (you can find a full list in the Index to the Catalogue of Irish Manuscripts in the British Museum), but it’s worth noting the numerous instances of the Ossianic poems Agallamh Oisín is Pádraig (The conversation of Oisín and Patrick) found in later manuscripts, and also the important Egerton MS 93, a 15th-16th century manuscript containing the Tripartite Life of Saint Patrick.
A fitting place to end our survey is this translation of the Latin couplet on the saints buried at Downpatrick, from Egerton MS 146, f 117v (18th-19th century):
hi tres in Duno tumulo tumulantur in uno
Brigida, Patricius atque Columba pius
Rendered into Irish as
Triur naomh sa dún ann aon uaidh taid na luighe,
Naomh Pádruicc clumhail, Naom Colum Cilli is Bríghitt.
(Three saints are lying in one grave in this stronghold, the famous St Patrick, St Colum Cille and Brigid.)
Happy St Patrick's Day, wherever you may be!
Cillian O'Hogan
10 March 2014
Magical Mystery Play
As you may have heard, the British Library has recently acquired a unique and richly decorated copy of a medieval mystery play. We're delighted to tell you that the whole is now available, in two volumes, on our Digitised Manuscripts site, as Add MS 89066/1 and Add MS 89066/2. To whet your appetite, here are some more images from the manuscript, and the fascinating story of how it was made.
Vespasian’s miraculous recovery from leprosy upon being shown Christ’s face on the Holy Veil by Saint Veronica, from the Mystère de la Vengeance by Eustache Marcadé, Bruges, c. 1465 (London, British Library, MS Additional 89066/1, f. 111r).
The manuscript was illustrated by Loyset Liédet (b. c. 1420, d. 1479) from Hesdin, in northern France, who may have been a student of Simon Marmion there. In 1469 Liédet joined the book producer’s confraternity in Bruges. He was a favourite artist of the Dukes of Burgundy, and is known to have decorated at least 15 and possibly as many as 20 extant manuscripts, and probably many others besides that are either lost or as yet unidentified. He was a master of colour and narrative, particularly of secular scenes. Liédet’s painting in this book is important for its groundbreaking, inventive and imaginative interpretation of a play, rather than devotional text. Because he was illustrating a new contemporary text, Liédet had to create new scenes corresponding to the text. His creative and novel compositions narrate the text in original ways.
Liédet's work is a valuable record of contemporary fashion and textiles, of secular life and of the emerging interest in scenes of internal space combined with external city and landscapes, as evidenced in the cure of Vespasian, above (Additional MS 89066/1, f. 111r), and the arrest of Pilate (Additional MS 89066/1, f. 128v) pictured below.
Detail of a miniature showing the violent arrest of Pontius Pilate by armed guards (Add MS 89066/1, f. 128v).
The complexity, innovation and use of colour in Liédet’s cycle of illustrations and his subtlety in the handling of the narrative have few parallels among contemporary manuscripts or panel paintings.
Liédet devised 20 large paintings to illustrate scenes in the play. These are incredibly detailed, and follow the text closely. For example, in the image of two doctors visiting Vespasian, the red spots of leprosy are visible on the patient’s body, and the artist has followed the stage direction Le [deuxième] medicin en regardant son visaige (the second doctor looks at his face) by depicting the doctor looking directly at Vespasian, and holding Vespasian’s hand, possibly to take his pulse (f. 61v, volume 1). These large and unique paintings therefore constitute an important witness of the artist’s skill at illustrating a new dramatic text.
Detail of a miniature showing Vespasian suffering from leprosy and being examined in bed by two doctors (Add MS 89066/1, f. 61v).
Thanks to surviving ducal accounts made after Philip’s death in July 1468, we know exactly how much the manuscript cost, and the name of the scribe and artist. The text was written by the scribe Yvonnet le Jeune, who was paid 16 shillings for each of the 38 quires (£30). The artist, Loyset Liédet (the enlumineur) was paid 18 shillings for each miniature (£18). Each of the 24 large illuminated initials (grandes lettres a champaigne dor et vingnettes dedens) cost 12 pence, for a total of 24 shillings. The binding cost 31 shillings, and the metal fittings for the binding 14 shillings (The original binding and fittings are now lost). The expense to produce the whole book was 51 pounds and 19 shillings. This price can be compared to the cost of a panel painting: in 1464, Dirk Bouts received 200 Rhenish guilders (£33 6s. 8d.) from the confraternity of the Holy Sacrament in Louvain for the painting of a triptych of the Last Supper. In comparison, a senior military officer at Philip the Good’s court, the Master of the Cannon, was paid a salary of 6 pounds a year (although this may have been in addition to room and board at the court).
This manuscript fills a gap in the British Library’s collections of the work of this artist. We already held at least four manuscripts usually ascribed to a ‘follower of Liédet’ (Royal MS 15 D I, Royal MS 17 F VI, Royal MS 17 F VII and Royal MS 18 E V). The acquisition of a manuscript securely attributed to Liédet, and dated to an early period in his career, is an extremely valuable research resource and we very much hope that it will allow these other attributions to be reassessed.
We are extremely grateful to everyone who supported the acquisition of this beautiful manuscript, and we hope that you like it too! The manuscript was accepted by HM Government in Lieu of Inheritance Tax before being allocated to the British Library in 2014. Its acquisition was also made possible thanks to generous donations from the Art Fund, the Friends of the British Library, International Partners in memory of Melvin R. Seiden, the Breslauer Bequest, and other anonymous donors. It can also now be seen in the Treasures Gallery at the British Library -- we hope that you like it as much as we do!
Medieval manuscripts blog recent posts
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- A Tudor autograph book
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- The Lindisfarne Gospels back at the British Library
- Panizzi Lectures – Drawing Conclusions: Diagrams in Medieval Art and Thought
- ‘Do you like gold? Use it!’: A golden binding by Pierre Legrain
- Gold galore in the Harley Golden Gospels
- The golden splendour of the Queen Mary Psalter
- A marvel in gold and ivory: Queen Melisende’s Psalter
- Highlights from our Gold exhibition
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