Medieval manuscripts blog

908 posts categorized "Illuminated manuscripts"

14 March 2018

Augustine’s De Trinitate in London and Paris

Two manuscripts of Augustine’s treatise on the Trinity, both dating between 1120 and 1150, have recently been digitised as part of The Polonsky Foundation England and France Project. One is from St Albans Abbey (now British Library Egerton MS 3721); the other, containing the full text of De Trinitate, was made at an unknown location in England (now Bibliothèque nationale de France ms latin 12204).

The opening page of a 12th-century manuscript of St Augustine's De Trinitate.

The opening page of Augustine's De Trinitate, England (St Albans), between 1119 and 1146: British Library Egerton MS 3721, f. 9r

The opening page of a 12th-century manuscript of St Augustine's De Trinitate, showing an enlarged decorated initial.

The opening page of De Trinitate, England, 1120–1130: Bibliothèque nationale de France ms lat. 12204, f. 2r

One of the most influential theologians of the early Church, St Augustine (354–430) became bishop of Hippo in present-day Algeria in 395. An extensive collection of his writings survive, in which he tackled the key theological questions of his time and interpreted them in a personal and practical way. His works were widely copied in medieval monastic scriptoria: after the Bible, they are the most common works listed in their library catalogues. For example, the library of Lorsch in Germany contained 98 volumes of Augustine out of a total of 590, and of 204 books in the inventory of Reading Abbey around 1192, 18 were the works of Augustine, more than double that of any other author.

A cutting from a 15th-century Italian manuscript, showing an illustration of St Augustine enthroned.

Augustine enthroned, in a cutting from a Gradual or Antiphoner, Italy (?Cremona), 3rd quarter of the 15th century: British Library Additional MS 38897C

Augustine devoted nearly thirty years of his life to his 15-book treatise on the Trinity, in which he emphasised the resemblance between God and man and the ultimate role played by faith. In monastic communities such as Norwich and Fécamp in Normandy, there are records of it being read at mealtimes throughout the week following Trinity Sunday. At Reading, several copies were kept in the dormitory for use in the refectory, according to a late-14th-century list of books.

In Egerton 3721, the text of De Trinitate is incomplete, ending at book 15, chapter 8. It is preceded by a calendar and a short excerpt from Augustine’s De doctrina christiana.

A calendar page for December, preceding a copy of St Augustine's De Trinitate.

A page from the calendar: Egerton MS 3721, f. 7v

This is a small work-a-day book, thicker but not much bigger than a smartphone, and written in Protogothic script. It is datable between 1119 and 1146, based on entries in the calendar. In the main text there is one rather smudged gold initial at the beginning (f. 9r) and a few decorated initials in red and green. Paragraph numbers and marginal notes have been added in some books, in others only the book and chapter numbers are supplied.

A page from a medieval manuscript, showing the text of St Augustine's De Trinitate, with page and chapter numbers.

De Trinitate's book and chapter numbers: Egerton MS 3721, f. 72r

Halfway down the final page, De trinitate ends abruptly, and is followed by a short hymn, Cives celesti patriae, based on a meditation on the twelve stones that form the foundations of the heavenly Jerusalem. Each stone is assigned a different colour, to which a moral or physical meaning is attached. The final three verses are missing.

A page from a medieval manuscript, showing the end of St Augustine's De Trinitate and the opening lines of his Cives celesti patriae.

The end of De Trinitate and the opening lines of Cives celesti patriae: Egerton MS 3721, f. 86r

The copy of De Trinitate in BnF ms lat. 12204, also made in England, was recorded in the 15th century in the library of the abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, an important religious and cultural institution then located just outside Paris.

A page from a medieval manuscript of St Augustine's writings, showing a decorated initial inhabited with birds and a dragon.

Initial ‘D’ with birds and a dragon-like creature at the beginning of St Augustine’s letter no 174 to Aureius: BnF lat. 12204, f. 1v

It is a larger manuscript than Egerton 3721, written in two columns and with more elaborate decoration. The book divisions are marked by ornate initials, some containing fantastic creatures.

A page from a copy of St Augustine's De Trinitate, with a large decorated initial marking the beginning of the text's fifth book.

A large initial with zoomorphic decoration at the beginning of book 5 of De Trinitate: BnF lat. 12204, f. 52v

Although the two manuscripts were made around the same time, the script in the Paris manuscript is more compact, as these images of the same passage from the first chapter show.

A medieval manuscript of St Augustine's De Trinitate.     A medieval manuscript of St Augustine's De Trinitate.

A comparison of the script of Egerton MS 3721, f. 10r, and BnF lat. 12204, f. 2v

The Paris volume is approximately three times larger than its counterpart, roughly the dimensions of an A4 page, and it shows marks of regular usage. There are notes, glosses and symbols throughout its margins, some in formal script in red or black, others mere jottings and aides-memoire.

A page from a medieval copy of St Augustine's De Trinitate with added marginal notes and symbols.

A page from De Trinitate, showing marginal notes and symbols: BnF lat. 12204, f. 69v 

The format and marginal notes provide keys to the way the two manuscripts may have been used at their respective institutions, both well-established and important abbeys close to the cities of London and Paris. The first was probably for personal study, whereas the second may have been read in the refectory.

 

Chantry Westwell

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

The Polonsky Foundation logo

05 March 2018

Polonsky Pre-1200 Project: we're halfway there

From illuminated Gospel-books to heavenly depictions of the constellations, from texts in Old English to works on the natural world, the first fruits of our exciting collaboration with the Bibliothèque nationale de France are ripe for the picking. The Polonsky Foundation England and France Project: Manuscripts from the British Library and the Bibliothèque nationale de France, 700-1200 has reached its halfway milestone with 400 manuscripts made before 1200 now digitised, newly catalogued and available to view online. A complete list of the manuscripts with links to the current image viewers can be found here: PolonskyPre1200 PDF (also available as PolonskyPre1200 Excel).

A detail from a 10th-century manuscript of the Psychomachia, showing an illustration of a dancer and musicians playing instruments.

A lively scene with musicians and a dancer from illustrated Psychomachia by Prudentius, in a late 10th-century manuscript from England: British Library, Cotton MS Cleopatra C VIII, f. 19v

By the end of the Project a total of 800 manuscripts will be available through this resource, so the halfway point is a good moment to reflect on what the Project has achieved so far, as well what we hope to achieve over the coming months. As we focus on 500 years of collaboration and the coexistence of medieval English and French book culture and illumination, we are also currently exchanging texts and ideas. We are working together in close partnership with the Bibliothèque nationale de France on two exciting platforms for the display and interpretation of the manuscripts that have been digitised. All of the photography is now complete, and we are working on the design of a new IIIF compatible viewer that will be hosted on the BnF’s Gallica website. We are also writing articles and descriptions of many of the Project manuscripts for a new website hosted at the British Library, to explore the cultural and historical context of the manuscripts together with their artistic importance.

A page from an illustrated Old English herbal, showing an illustration of a mandrake.

Illustrated herbal in Old English picturing a mandrake, from 11th-century England: British Library Cotton MS Vitellius C III, f. 57v

A page from a 12th-century copy of the Rule of St Benedict, showing an illustration of St Benedict handing the Rule to St Maurus.

Image of St Benedict handing a book to his disciple, St Maurus from the beginning of the Rule of St Benedict made in Nîmes in 1129: British Library Add MS 16979, f. 21v

To follow the progress of our French partner, do consult their new blog Manuscripta. For inspiring glimpses of individual manuscripts check out the Project on Twitter (using the hashtag #PolonskyPre1200). And, of course, follow our own Blog for regular updates.

 

The Polonsky Pre-1200 Project Team

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

The Polonsky Foundation logo

 

01 March 2018

A calendar page for March 2018

There’s something fishy about the blog today: it’s Pisces, the zodiac sign for March, from the 11th-century calendar we are exploring month by month this year (Cotton MS Julius A VI).

A page from an Anglo-Saxon manuscript, showing the calendar page for March, with an illustration of labourers digging and sowing the land.
A calendar page for March, Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 4r

The zodiac symbol Pisces, represented by two fish, appears at the top of the page. Other zodiac symbols went through many different interpretations and presentations in different medieval calendars, even in closely related manuscripts. For example, Capricorn is depicted differently in this manuscript from the way Capricorn appears in its close relative, another 11th-century calendar also attributed to Canterbury (Cotton MS Tiberius B V/1). The representation of Pisces is remarkably consistent in much of medieval art, as two fish facing opposite directions, connected by a line.

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing an illustration of two fishes joined together, the symbol of the astrological sign Pisces.
Detail of Pisces, Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 4r

Reading down the page, you’ll notice several gold crosses. These were added by an early user of the calendar (or possibly by its original scribe) to mark out important feasts. In contrast to the pages for January and February, each of which had one or two crosses, four feasts were highlighted with gold crosses on the page for March: the death of Pope Gregory the Great (12 March), the feast of St Cuthbert (20 March), one of the feasts of St Benedict of Nursia (21 March), and the feast of the Annunciation (25 March).

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing the page for March, with gold crosses marking several feast days.
Detail of the feasts of St Cuthbert, St Benedict and the Annunciation  marked out with gold crosses, Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 4r

This proliferation of important feasts may reflect the number of significant saints with feast days in March. The calendar and its models were probably made at a reformed monastery or cathedral, as discussed in the post for January. As a community that followed the Rule of St Benedict, his feast days would inevitably have been important to the calendars' creators and owners, and reformed monks were particularly devoted to the Virgin Mary and her feast days. Meanwhile, Gregory the Great was celebrated in England for sending missionaries and establishing the see of Canterbury, while Cuthbert, the 7th-century Northumbrian saint, was popular throughout Europe in the early Middle Ages.  

A page from the Benedictional  of St Æthelwold, showing an illustration of St Gregory, St Benedict and St Cuthbert in the front row of a choir of confessors.
Saints Gregory, Benedict and Cuthbert are depicted in the front row of the choir of confessors. They can be identified by the names on their stoles. From the Benedictional  of St Æthelwold, England (Winchester or Thorney), c. 963-984, Add MS 49598, f.1r

There may also be another explanation for the number of feasts singled out in March. The month of March often coincided with Lent, the period of fasting before Easter. Sundays and major feast days were exempt from the fast. Perhaps it was in the annotator’s interest to highlight many important feast days when fasting could be suspended.

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing an illustration of labourers digging and sowing the land.
Detail of diggers and sowers, from Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 4r

The page ends with the labour of the month. Here, labourers are portrayed digging and sowing. Sowing, along with ploughing, was also portrayed in the calendar page for January. However, sowing may not have taken place in January, and the January image may have been more symbolic. For many crops, March was closer to the time for sowing than January.  

For more on this manuscript (and for details about when you will be able to see it in person), see our previous blogpost 'A calendar page for January' and check out this blogpost to find previous years’ calendar pages, and explanations of medieval calendars.

Alison Hudson

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

The Polonsky Foundation logo.

28 February 2018

Rising from the ashes: bringing a medieval manuscript to life

The British Library’s major exhibition, Harry Potter: A History of Magic, has featured a host of fascinating manuscripts, alongside a fire-damaged cauldron, crystal balls and a ‘real’ mermaid. It took several months to choose all the exhibits, but when it came to selecting an image of a medieval phoenix, the choice was relatively simple. We have some gorgeous illustrations of phoenixes in our collections, but the one that really caught the curators’ eye was found in Harley MS 4751, a decorated English bestiary. But choosing the manuscript was only the start. We were planning to digitise this bestiary as part of our digitisation project sponsored by The Polonsky Foundation. This blogpost explores the complexities of that process.

A page from a 13th-century bestiary, showing an illustration of a phoenix rising from the ashes.

A phoenix collecting twigs (top image) and the phoenix consumed by flames in the funeral pyre (below image), from Harley MS 4751, f. 45r

Some of our readers will already be familiar with our digitisation programme. The Polonsky Foundation England and France Project, 700-1200: Manuscripts from the British Library and Bibliothèque nationale de France is a collaborative project between the two national libraries of Britain and France, to digitise 800 illuminated manuscripts. Currently the British Library has made over 100 manuscripts available to view online on our Digitised Manuscripts site. But how does the digitisation process work? Here is a look behind the scenes at the work of the project team, from conservation to the final online publishing of the manuscripts. We are particularly grateful to the generosity of The Polonsky Foundation, which is enabling some of our collections to be made available to view online.

Here we show step-by-step how this beautiful bestiary was digitised. Before any manuscript can be digitised, it may require an additional level of care from staff in the British Library Conservation Centre, in order to safeguard the manuscript during the digitisation process. First, our project conservator, Jessica Pollard, stabilised Harley MS 4751, in order that the manuscript could be photographed securely.

The project conservator Jessica Pollard working on a 13th-century bestiary.

Project conservator Jessica Pollard with Harley MS 4751 in the British Library Conservation Centre

Next, the bestiary was taken to the Library’s Imaging Studios for digitisation. Project photographer Carl Norman is an expert in safely handling rare and historical material like medieval manuscripts, and the studios are equipped with state-of-the-art photographic imaging systems, producing high quality images for use on Digitised Manuscripts. Carl shot images of the bestiary in carefully controlled conditions, with the light and temperature levels being monitored closely to protect the manuscript.

Project photographer Carl Norman digitally capturing the pages of a 13th-century bestiary.

Project photographer Carl Norman digitally captures the phoenix of Harley MS 4751 in the British Library Imaging Studios

After being photographed, the book was examined by our project cataloguers, experts in the study of medieval books. Manuscripts are catalogued through careful study of their texts, decoration and the materials used to make them. Our cataloguers also take to care to describe the history of the book and any known past owners. In this instance, they were able to determine that the bestiary was probably produced in Salisbury in the late 12th or early 13th century.

Finally, when both the photography and cataloguing were completed, our project digitisation officer published the fully digitised manuscript online. The complete process was achieved through the great teamwork of every member of the project, and we’re delighted with the results. You can view them now on the British Library’s Digitised Manuscripts site.

Harley MS 4751 contains over 100 fascinating illuminations, ranging from domestic animals such as the goat and donkey to exotic animals such as the tiger and elephant, and mythical beasts such as the basilisk. Here is a small selection, we hope you can find many more to enthral you online.

A page from a medieval bestiary, showing an illustration of goats.

Miniature of goats in a medieval bestiary (Salisbury?, late 12th or early 13th century): Harley MS 4751, f. 14r

A page from a medieval bestiary, showing an illustration of a donkey being encouraged to a waterwheel.

Miniature of a donkey being prompted towards a waterwheel by a man with a stick and a whistle: Harley MS 4751, f. 25r

A page from a medieval bestiary, showing an illustration of a mounted knight and a tigress looking at its own reflection in a mirror.

Miniature of a knight on horseback and a tiger with a mirror, illustrating the text that a tiger can outrun a man on a horse, so in order to steal a cub and escape, the thief should throw down a mirror, and the tigress will stop to look at its own reflection, thinking it is her cub: Harley MS 4751, f. 3v

A page from a medieval bestiary, showing an illustration of an elephant with a wooden tower on its back, filled with soldiers.

Miniature of an elephant with a wooden tower on its back, with soldiers with crossbows and other weapons: Harley MS 4751, f. 8r

A page from a medieval bestiary, showing an illustration of a basilisk.

 Miniature of a basilisk: Harley MS 4751, f. 59r

 

The phoenix, of course, had a legendary ability to rise from the ashes. In its old age, it would create its own funeral pyre, fanning the flames with its own wings, before being reborn after nine days. It takes much, much longer to digitise a medieval manuscript, but we like the idea that, by our digitising our collections, we are giving new life to books made centuries ago.

An animation of a phoenix rising from the ashes, based on an illustration from a medieval bestiary.

 

The Polonsky Project Team

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

The Polonsky Foundation logo

24 February 2018

Harry Potter meets the Middle Ages

An illustration of Fawkes the Phoenix, advertising the British Library's Harry Potter exhibition.

Harry Potter: A History of Magic has been a rip-roaring success. Not only has every session of every day of our exhibition sold out (a first for the British Library), and not only did we sell more advance tickets than Tate's Hockney blockbuster, but the accompanying books have been bestsellers both in the United Kingdom and overseas. If you managed to get to London to see the show, you will have noticed that we had a wealth of extraordinary objects on display, from J.K. Rowling's autograph manuscripts and drawings to genuine witches' broomsticks and exploded cauldrons. The exhibition also provided the opportunity for the Library to showcase its own collections relating to the history of magic, across the world and across the ages; and that forms the subject of this blogpost. 

You may be aware that Harry Potter: A History of Magic is organised according to certain of the subjects studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Readers of J.K. Rowling's novels will obviously be familiar with Potions, Herbology and Divination, but many of these themes are also rooted in real-life magic, tradition and folklore. This gave the exhibition curators the chance to call upon some of the British Library's world-class holdings of ancient, medieval and early modern manuscripts. There were so many to choose from. Today we are delighted to feature some of them here, many of which can also be viewed on our Digitised Manuscripts site. We'd love you to tell us your favourites using the comments field or via our Twitter feed (@BLMedieval).

Potions

First up in the exhibition is a room devoted to Potions, followed by another relating to Alchemy. Among the items on display there are these four extraordinary manuscripts, ranging in date from the 10th century to circa 1600, and providing Anglo-Saxon recipes to instructions for making your own Philosopher's Stone.

A page from Bald's Leechbook, showing Old English potions against poisoning and snake bites.

Potions against poisoning and snake bites, in Bald's Leechbook (England, 10th century): Royal MS 12 D XVII, f. 41v

A page from a medieval surgical handbook, showing an illustration of an apothecary shop.

An apothecary’s shop, in a surgeon’s manuscript (France, 14th century): Sloane MS 1977, f. 49v

A page from a 15th-century manuscript of the Splendor Solis, showing an illustration of an alchemical scholar holding a flask filled with a golden liquid.

Splendor Solis (Germany, 1582): Harley MS 3469, f. 4r

A section of the unfurled Ripley Scroll, showing illustrations of dragons and fantastical beasts.

How to make the Philosopher's Stone, in the Ripley Scroll (England, 16th century): Sloane MS 2523B

Herbology

Herbology is one of our favourite rooms, and here are some of the British Library manuscripts to be seen there, alongside, of course, our gnome alone. Previously on this blog, we've provided our readers with guidance on how to harvest a mandrake.

A page from a 16th-century Italian herbal, showing an illustration of a countryside, with a labourer digging for herbs.

Digging for herbs, in Extracts from an edition of Dioscorides, De re medica, assembled and illustrated by Gherardo Cibo (Italy, 16th century): Add MS 22332, f. 3r

A page from a 16th-century herbal, showing an illustration of a mandrake being pulled out of the ground by a dog.

A mandrake being pulled out by a dog, in Giovanni Cadamosto, Herbal (Italy or Germany, 16th century): Harley MS 3736, f. 59r

A page from a 12th-century English herbal, showing a drawing of a centaur with centaury.

A centaur with centaury (centaurea minor), in a herbal (England, 12th century): Harley MS 5294, f. 22r

A page from an Italian herbal, showing an illustration of a dragon, a serpent, and a plant.

A dragon and a serpent, in a herbal (Italy, 15th century): Sloane MS 4016, f. 38r

Charms

Visitors to our exhibition will have been charmed to see this papyrus (described in our blogpost 'It's a kind of magic'), as well as an early example of the Abracadabra charm, originally devised as a protection against malaria.

A 4th-century papyrus, showing a magical text written in Ancient Greek and a drawing of a magic ring.

A ring captioned ‘May something never happen as long as this remains buried’, in a Greek handbook for magic (Thebes, 4th century): Papyrus 46(5)

A page from a medieval medical miscellany, showing a text and a diagram containing the word abracadabra written out repeatedly.

The first recorded mention of the phrase ‘Abracadabra’, as a cure for malaria, in Quintus Serenus, Liber medicinalis (Canterbury, 13th century): Royal MS 12 E XXIII, f. 20r

Astronomy

You cannot be Sirius. The sky's the limit with these manuscripts, which we selected to illustrate the historical study of the night sky. Among them is Leonardo da Vinci's notebook, showing the Sun and Moon rotating round Earth.

A page from an Anglo-Saxon miscellany, showing a painted illustration of a centaur, representing the astrological sign Sagittarius.

Sagittarius, in Cicero’s Aratea (England, 11th century): Cotton MS Tiberius B V/1, f. 37r

A page from a medieval miscellany, showing an illustration of a dog, representing the constellation Sirius.

Sirius, in a medieval miscellany (Peterborough, 12th century): Cotton MS Tiberius C I, f. 28r

A page from a 15th-century manuscript of the Travels of John Mandeville, showing an illustration of astronomers on Mount Athos, studying the stars with astrolabes and quadrants.

Miniature of astronomers on Mount Athos, studying the stars with astrolabes and quadrants, and inscribing strange characters in the dust with sticks, in a set of illustrations for Mandeville’s Travels (Bohemia, 15th century): Add MS 24189, f. 15r

An opening from Leonardo da Vinci's notebook, showing notes on the subject of astronomy, written in Leonardo's mirrored handwriting, accompanied by sketched diagrams.

Astronomical notes and sketches, in Leonardo da Vinci’s Notebook (Italy, 16th century): Arundel MS 263, f. 104r + f. 107v

Divination

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were never convinced by the methods they were taught to divine the future. If only they had been shown this 14th-century manuscript, they may have realised that Divination is a long-practised art.

A page from a medieval miscellany, showing a chiromantic ink diagram of a palm, used for divination.

Reading the hands, in a fortune-telling manuscript (England, 14th century): Royal MS 12 C XII, f. 107r

Defence Against the Dark Arts

Beware the basilisk, my friends. A medieval snake charmer, in contrast, could always come in useful. 

A page from the Historia animalium, showing a pen-and-ink drawing of a basilisk.

A basilisk, in Historia animalium (Italy, 1595): Add MS 82955, f. 129r

A page from a 13th-century bestiary, showing an illustration of a serpent and a snake-charmer.

Image of a snake charmer, in a bestiary (England, 13th century): Royal MS 12 C XIX, f. 67r

Care of Magical Creatures

And finally, we would like to share with you some of our beautiful unicorns and phoenixes, in the section of the exhibition devoted to Care of Magical Creatures. This unicorn is a very handsome chap, though some of his counterparts, strangely, have two horns.

A page from a 16th-century manuscript written in Greek, showing an illustration of a unicorn.

A unicorn, in Manuel Philes, On the properties of animals (Paris, 16th century): Burney MS 97, f. 18r

A page from a 13th-century bestiary, showing an illustration of a phoenix rising from the ashes.

A phoenix rising from the ashes, in a bestiary (England, 13th century): Harley MS 4751, f. 45r

A page from a 13th-century aviary and bestiary, showing an illustration of a siren and a centaur.

A siren and a centaur, in a bestiary (France?, 13th century): Sloane MS 278, f. 47r

Harry Potter: A History of Magic is completely sold out, sadly (it closes on 28 February); but we hope you've enjoyed this sneak preview into some of the manuscripts that have been on display. And you can read more about them in our exhibition books.

Julian Harrison (Lead Curator, Harry Potter: A History of Magic)

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

07 February 2018

The Lindisfarne Gospels carpet pages

The copying and decoration of the Lindisfarne Gospels represent a remarkable artistic achievement. The book’s importance lies in the evidence of its production, the beauty of its illustration and the late 10th-century added gloss of its text that is the earliest rendering of the Gospels in the English language. The Gospels were made on Lindisfarne island, in Northumbria, around 700. The manuscript has been fully digitised and can be viewed here in great detail, with the zoom function, on our Digitised Manuscripts site (Cotton MS Nero D IV).

A highly decorated incipit page from The Lindisfarne Gospels.

The Lindisfarne Gospels: Cotton MS Nero D IV, f. 3r

The book includes five highly elaborate full-page carpet pages, so-called because of their resemblance to Oriental carpets (indeed, some scholars have argued for the direct influence of carpets on their design). Four of the carpet pages appear before the beginning of a Gospel; the fifth precedes the book’s prefatory material. This material includes the associated texts that typically form part of Gospel-books, such as letters of St Jerome (d. 420), chapter lists and the ten canon tables (for more on the canon tables, see our previous blogpost). The first carpet page is now on display in the British Library’s Treasures Gallery for three months, as part of the manuscript's regular conservation rotation schedule.

A carpet page from The Lindisfarne Gospels.

The Lindisfarne Gospels: Cotton MS Nero D IV, f. 2v

Each carpet page has a cross pattern embedded in its design. It seems likely that these pages were designed to serve as a sort of interior treasure binding to ornament each Gospel as a mirror of the ornate exterior one that once was ‘bedecked with gold and gems’, according to the colophon. Certainly the affinities with surviving contemporary precious metalwork such as the Sutton Hoo treasure are readily apparent in the carpet page panels, with their interlace patterns, intertwined sinuous and elongated twisted bodies and stylized birds’ and beasts’ heads. 

From April 2018, the Lindisfarne Gospels will be off display in compliance with the conservation rotation schedule, which requires that the manuscript be rested for six months once it has been on show for eighteen months. From 19 October, the Gospels will again be on display as part of the British Library's Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms exhibition.

 

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

01 February 2018

A calendar page for February 2018

It’s February: time to light candles and clear away some vines, according to the ‘Julius Work Calendar', an 11th-century calendar made in southern England. 

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing an illustration of labourers clearing away vines.
Labourers clearing away vines, from a calendar, England (Canterbury?), mid-11th century: Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 3v

The main illustration associated with February in both this and a related 11th-century calendar (Cotton MS Tiberius B V/1) involves workers clearing away vines. Above, their tools are depicted in detail and may reflect actual 11th-century agricultural practices. The men wield curved knives. Below, the man on the furthest left holds a bigger, curved blade attached to a longer handle.

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing an illustration of labourers clearing away vines.
February, from a geographical collection, England (Canterbury? Glastonbury?), mid-11th century: Cotton MS Tiberius B V/1, f. 3v

The curling vines are reminiscent of the artistic flourishes that late 10th- and 11th-century English artists used to adorn their initials and borders.

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon copy of the Rule of St Benedict, showing a decorated initial with foliate decoration.

Detail of an initial with foliate decoration, from a copy of the Rule of St Benedict, England (St Augustine’s, Canterbury?), late 10th century: Harley MS 5431, f. 39v

It is not clear why the two calendars are so similar. Some people have suggested that they were made at the same scriptorium, and that one might be a copy of the other. However, the poem that accompanies the calendar is slightly different in the two manuscripts, so the text does not seem to have been copied directly from one manuscript into the other. For example, the Julius calendar does not mention the death of Alfred the Great (d. 26 October 899) and his wife Ealhswith (d. 5 December 902), unlike the Tiberius calendar. Alternatively, both calendars could have been based on related exemplars which are now lost.

The zodiac sign associated with this month is Aquarius, based on the constellation that is said to look like a water carrier. Below, Aquarius is depicted standing on one foot, supported by a staff. He pours out a jug of water. The artist has cleverly posed him so his arm curves around a flaw in the parchment. However, these details are a little difficult to discern, because this manuscript was damaged in the Cotton fire of 1731. In particular, the heat warped the image as the edges of the parchment shrunk.

A detail from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing an illustration of Ganymede the water-carrier, the symbol of the astrological sign Aquarius.
Detail of Aquarius: Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 3v

One early user of this calendar has put gold crosses next to two feast days in February. The first cross appears next to the feast for Candlemas on 2 February. This feast commemorated the Virgin Mary’s ritual purification after giving birth and Christ’s presentation in the temple. This manuscript was probably produced and owned at a reformed monastery or cathedral, where Candlemas was the subject of an elaborate liturgy. The ceremony involved a procession with candles that were blessed. This was followed by a service where monks continued to hold their candles, at least for the opening section (according to the Regularis Concordia: see Cotton MS Tiberius A III, f. 14r).

A detail from the page for February from an Anglo-Saxon calendar, showing a verse in Latin marked with a gold cross.

The second verse marked out with a gold cross is actually in incorrect Latin. The scribe has replaced the name of St Matthias (Mathiano) with the word for middle (mediano), or possibly ‘Methano’. He may have misread his exemplar. The red text next to the gold cross reads ‘sol in Pisces’. It is one of a series of notes about the sun’s position and other astronomical and astrological patterns that were noted in red in the margin of this calendar.

A detail from the calendar for February from an Anglo-Saxon manuscript, showing the Feast of St Valentine.
Feast of St Valentine: Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 3v

St Matthias’s feast day is not the only place where this scribe made a mistake. Another is above, in a verse about St Valentine, whose martyrdom is commemorated on 14 February. Instead of writing ‘Rite…’ (‘Solemnly/customarily…’), the scribe has written ‘Ride…’ (‘Laugh!’ ). It is tempting to wonder whether the scribe misheard or misremembered the verse, since ‘t’ and ‘d’ can sound similar, but ‘-te’ and ‘-de’ do not look similar in this script.

The calendar for February, from an 11th-century Anglo-Saxon manuscript, with an illustration of labourers clearing vines beneath the text.
February, from a calendar, England (Canterbury?), mid-11th century: Cotton MS Julius A VI, f. 3v

For more on this manuscript (and details about when you will be able to see it in person), please see our calendar post for January 2018. For previous years’ calendar pages, and an explanation of medieval calendars, read our blogpost 'A Calendar page for January'.

Alison Hudson

Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

  The logo of The Polonsky Foundation.

29 January 2018

Glossed Bibles, hypertexts and hyperlinks

In many ways, glossed Bibles were amongst the hardest manuscripts to create in the 12th century. A glossed book is one where the main text of a work is explained by adding texts ('glosses') either between the lines or in the margins of the page, not unlike our modern notes and annotations. Rather than random notes, however, biblical glosses were compiled by various authors from authoritative sources, and added systematically. In the case of the Bible, the glosses were taken from the writings of the Church Fathers and those of more recent theologians.

A good example is a manuscript from Rievaulx Abbey in Yorkshire (now Add MS 63077) containing the Old Testament book of Genesis with an interlinear and two marginal glosses. The main text of the first chapter of Genesis is written in the centre, with glosses added on both sides. (Read more about this manuscript, and its fur cover, in our previous blogpost.)

A manuscript of the Book of Genesis, showing the text with interlinear and marginal glosses.

Glossed Genesis, with the main text squeezed into a single narrow column (Rievaulx, 12th century): Rievaulx, 12th century, Add MS 63077, f. 1r

Reading a glossed Bible is a bit like reading Shakespeare and a commentary at the same time. The glossed page contains various texts keyed to the main text of the Bible in a system of carefully-arranged references. This is the medieval equivalent of the hypertext: texts linked up to other texts that the reader can access immediately without even lifting their eyes from the page. There can be up to four texts running simultaneously: the main text, two flanking columns of glosses in continuous prose as well as a ‘discontinuous’ gloss of single words or explanatory passages written between the lines of the main text. Glosses often take up the upper and side margins and begin with a paragraph sign (similar to our ¶) to make them easy to locate. The glosses are placed alongside the passage they seek to explain.

A page from a Psalter, showing the text with a Latin gloss and a decorated initial letter.

Glosses in the process of enclosing the main text: Add MS 18298, f. 30r

Making a glossed Bible posed a number of challenges for medieval scribes. One way to make the book more readable was to use different scripts for the main text and the glosses. In a manuscript from York Cathedral (now Harley MS 46), the scribe used three different scripts, not including the initial and the capitals for ‘Liber’ (book), the first word in the Gospel of Matthew.

A detail from a glossed 12th-century copy of the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, with a decorated initial in gold.

When texts are so close together, script size and style are essential: Harley MS 46, f. 7r

Another challenge was to make the texts fit and run together from one page to another. Designing the layout was not easy before the age of print, especially when it meant positioning three different closely related texts of unequal length. For this reason, the various books of the Old and New Testaments were always glossed separately.  

With time, biblical glosses became increasingly longer, to the point that they ran over the page. To control the ‘spillage’, scribes came up with the idea of using special signs to mark where the gloss stopped on one page and where it continued on the next. These ‘tie-marks’ work as hyperlinks that the reader can follow directly. In one English, late 12th-century manuscript, these two signs occur at the lower end of the page.

   A detail from a medieval manuscript, showing a tie-mark.  A detail from a medieval manuscript, showing a tie-mark.


A page from a 12th-century copy of the Gospel of Luke, with Latin glosses.

Turn over the leaf and follow the signs’: Burney MS 29, f. 5r

The same signs on the verso explain where each of the interrupted texts resumes.

A detail from a 12th-century copy of the Gospel of the Luke, with Latin glosses.

Burney MS 29, f. 5v

Glossed Bibles had many advantages. They led to new, faster and more efficient ways of reading, of locating information quickly, and of accessing related texts which would otherwise require a small library.

 

Cristian Ispir
Follow us on Twitter @BLMedieval

 

 

Part of the Polonsky Digitisation Project

Supported by

The Polonsky Foundation logo

Medieval manuscripts blog recent posts

Archives

Tags

Other British Library blogs