Discovered and re-discovered: using newly digitised items to find hidden stories in Greek papyri
from Peter Toth, Curator of Greek Collections, Bodleian Libraries
The Bodleian’s two-year project We Are Our History has created a unique opportunity for curators to explore the richness of our collections and to rediscover items that preserve the stories of underrepresented communities, groups, and individuals. The Library’s collection of Greek papyri, spanning almost a thousand years of Egypt’s history, has proved particularly fertile ground for this work. Our previous blog post introduced documents that illustrate the lives of grave-diggers in the Western Oasis of the Libyan desert. Today, we turn to a single object: a striking example of how an everyday document, once discarded as waste, was recycled—and ultimately preserved a unique historical source.

The item, now preserved as MS Gr. Class. a. 9 (P), is a long strip of papyrus inscribed on its recto, along the fibres of the sheet, with exceptionally long lines of Greek text. The document is precisely dated to the 11th year of Emperor Hadrian, 19 April 127 CE. Written in a professional scribal hand, it records a marriage contract between the father of a young woman named Thais and her future husband Sarapion, setting out the conditions of their union.

The contract itself is fairly typical of its kind. In a style that may strike modern readers as rather formal—even dry—for such a joyful occasion, it notes that the agreement was concluded “in one of the streets of the city of Oxyrhynchus”, in Middle Egypt, and written by the scribe Diogenes. It carefully lists the possessions brought into the marriage, offering a glimpse into Thais’ dowry and personal belongings: “a brooch, a gold necklace set with three green stones, two dresses, and two girdles, one red and the other rose-coloured”. The contract also anticipates less happy possibilities, including provisions for divorce—ensuring that each party retrieves their property—and arrangements governing inheritance in the event of death, with the stated aim of securing a blameless and harmonious marriage.

This copy of the contract was probably submitted to the local archives for registration shortly after its execution. At some later point, however, it was deemed no longer necessary and reused as writing material. On its reverse, a second set of texts was added. We do not know exactly why the document was discarded, but it appears that a clerk named Apollonios repurposed it to write a memorandum addressed to his colleague, Horion. In doing so, he preserved a rare record of administrative practice.

Apollonios’ note contains copies of two official proclamations issued by the prefect of Egypt concerning the registration and storage of legal documents in Alexandria. Around March 127 CE—close in date to the marriage contract—the authorities became aware of irregularities or tampering in archival practices and introduced stricter controls. In addition to the existing central archive, known as the Nanaion in Alexandria, a second repository, the Library of Hadrian, was established. The decree required that all contracts drawn up in Egypt be registered locally, processed in a central administrative office (the so-called Catalogue, katalogeion). There the documents were to be organised into composite and indexed rolls, their contents were carefully abstracted in two copies to be submitted not only to the Central Archives of the Nanaion but also to the newly established Library of Hadrian to ensure accuracy and prevent alteration.

The regulations also imposed strict limits on access. The custodians of the Central Archives were strictly forbidden to lend or even display documents without explicit authorisation by the director of the Library of Alexandria. In order to secure immediate and careful implementation of the new rules, a second proclamation was issued only a few months later threating all librarians and archivists “who may dare to violate the new rules, whether from disobedience or any illicit reason,” with severe punishment.

It may well have been fear of this severe punishment that prompted Apollonios to copy the decrees for his colleague Horion. By writing them on the back of an obsolete marriage contract, he reused available material in a practical and economical way. At the same time, his act of recycling has preserved a unique witness to the administrative reforms governing the central archives of second-century Alexandria—an unintended but invaluable survival.





































