The Bodleian Conveyor

“The first bench on the side towards the sea”: the medieval provenance of MS. Lyell 70

Matthew Holford, Tolkien Curator of Medieval Manuscripts

Updating our online catalogue of medieval manuscripts is a key curatorial priority. The catalogue has entries for all of our medieval collections, but many of these records are only summaries which do not provide full information on a manuscript’s contents, codicology or history. One main task is to make all the information in the Bodleian’s printed catalogues fully available online; a second task, when time and resources permit, is to carry out additional research to ensure the record reflects the current state of knowledge and scholarship. When converting records from the Bodleian’s older printed catalogues, many of which were written in the 19th century, quite extensive intervention may be necessary. This is rarely the case with more recent texts, such as Albinia (‘Tilly’) de la Mare’s catalogue of the Lyell collection, published in 1971, but occasional opportunities do arise.

One such case is MS. Lyell 70, a 13th-century copy of Peter Comestor’s Historia Scholastica (a popular handbook of Biblical history) which has attracted attention for its glosses in Hungarian and its exuberant pen drawings.

Drawing of griffon breathing fire, on parchment page of a medieval manuscript — MS. Lyell 70 fol. 35r (detail)

De la Mare quoted two pressmarks at the end of the manuscript which she was unable to associate with an institution: “ex parte sinistra(?) de sexta banca – G-littere” (14th century) and “Iste liber debet esse in prima bancha ex parte maris” (15th century).

Manuscript note on a parchment page: Iste liber debet esse in prima bancha ex parte maris — MS. Lyell 70 fol 152v (detail)

The second of these in particular is sufficiently distinctive to hold out the possibility of being identifiable. An internet search for “banc(h)a ex parte maris” does indeed reveal that this pressmark was used by the Dominican convent of SS Giovanni e Paulo in Venice, on the northern edge of the city with the Mediterranean to its north. A similar pressmark is found, for example, in New York, Morgan Library and Museum, MS. M. 1156 (https://www.themorgan.org/manuscript/282464). A manuscript sold at Les Enluminures has the contrasting pressmark, referring to the side of the library facing the church rather than the sea: “hic liber debet esse in septima bancha ex parte ecclesie” (https://www.textmanuscripts.com/medieval/hugh-fouilloy-127696).

Our manuscript’s presence at SS. Giovanni e Paolo is confirmed by the catalogue published in the late 18th century by its librarian Domenico Maria Berardelli. The entry for our manuscript is not detailed but matches in date, size and, conclusively, number of leaves.

Printed catalogue entry: Cod. Membr. In Fol. Saec. / XIII. foll. 152. — [Google books: https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=GXRlAAAAcAAJ&pg=RA4-PA7#v=onepage&q&f=false]

Berardelli’s catalogue records the library at probably its greatest extent, and (in common with other Venetian religious houses) it was to be dispersed during a period of crisis and instability in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. In 1789 the prior of the friary complained to the civic authorities of Venice that books and manuscripts had been stolen due to the negligence of its librarian. Subsequent inquiries led to several hundred items being transferred to the Bibliotheca Marciana, in effect the state library of Venice. In 1797 Venice came under French rule, and some manuscripts were transferred to Paris. After a period (1798-1805) under Austrian control, Venice was part of the Napoleonic empire from 1806 to 1814. The libraries and archives of Venetian religious houses were in part transferred to local institutions such as the Marciana, but for the most part sold at public auction. Manuscripts from the library of SS. Giovanni e Paolo are now spread across libraries in Italy, Germany, England, the United States and elsewhere. A large number have been identified, notably by Riccardo Quinto, but MS. Lyell 70 is a new addition.

Up close and 3D: photogrammetric models at the Bodleian

John Barrett (Bodleian Imaging Studio and ARCHiOx Project) introduces the Bodleian’s growing collection of photogrammetric models

Explore on: https://sketchfab.com/ARCHiOx/models

Holy Bible; Psalms, 1660-1661, London. Embroidered binding. English, mid-17th century. Blue silk binding, embroidered with silver wire; portrait of Charles II on front board, Catherine of Braganza on back. Broxb. 45.2. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-452-8fbcd617f9bd4e3799bbad8ce7d54add

Since 2022, the aim of ARCHiOx (Analysis and Recording of Cultural Heritage in Oxford) has been to record the three-dimensional surface of items in Bodleian collections. The recordings have demonstrated that the micro-topography of books, manuscripts, printing plates and artworks can tell us a huge amount about who made them, how they were made and about people’s interactions with them since they were made. An imaging system called the Selene, developed by project partner the Factum Foundation, has been used to acquire this 3D data. Using a principle called photometric stereo, the Selene is able to record relief on the surface of an original with a maximum variation in height of around 15-20 millimetres. This makes the Selene well suited for the recording of library and gallery material, where high resolution data is of great benefit and the originals are mostly flat.

Recording a book binding as an object so that every face is captured requires a different approach. While the Selene acquires 3D data through capturing images illuminated from different angles and with the camera in a static position, photogrammetry is a technique which works in the opposite way. A photogrammetric recording is made by photographing an object from multiple angles under even illumination and combining the images into a three-dimensional model. In the case of the books and manuscripts which have so far been captured for the project, each binding has been photographed between 150 to 300 times and the images aligned in software. The resulting recording can be navigated and relit by the end user onscreen, as if turning the original in their hands.

An early 17th century embroidered dos-à-dos binding combining The Whole Booke of Psalms and The New Testament. N.T. Eng. 1630 g. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/nt-eng-1630-g1-8aa0484213814a238fac3480e0e87f6f

A wireframe view of the same volume revealing the polygonal structure which forms the surface of the model.

Rather than moving the camera to capture the book from each position, by mounting the camera on a support and slowly rotating the book on a turntable, a series of captures can be photographed relatively efficiently. Around 30 exposures are made per rotation at intervals of approximately 12-degrees. The camera is then moved up or down and another round of images made until a set of captures are acquired from at least five different heights. An additional two or three rounds of images are made after turning the book over to reveal the edge on which it was previously standing. Depending on the proportions and condition of the volume, the book may be recorded horizontally, vertically, or both. The surface of the resulting model is formed of millions of polygons on to which a texture is projected providing the colour and tone of the original.

In order to maximise accuracy and efficiency, a programmable turntable named the TablePi2 has been used extensively for the photogrammetry of the Bodleian’s books, manuscripts and artworks. This highly efficient programmable turntable synchronises rotation and capture. Using this solution, the bindings of small books can be captured in their entirety in just a few minutes. The processing of the captured images into a 3D model is considerably slower and more complicated.

Thirsis Minnewit – De vrolykee zang-godin, 1690, Amsterdam. Dutch, late 17th century. Four volumes have been bound together back-to-back, in a style known as double ‘dos-à-dos’, in this copy at Bodleian shelfmark Broxb. 1.27. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-127-240b716a1e2a4c28b3746edea02c0956

Preliminary recording of the same volume showing how a small change in the position of the upper board during capture has resulted in an unsuccessful 3D model with missing areas.

While high-resolution surface data from an A5 size original can be recorded using the Selene in less than a minute, the capture, processing and editing involved in creating a photogrammetric model can take several hours. Successful photogrammetry relies on the original not changing in shape during capture. A change in volume of just a couple of millimetres can result in problems similar to the example shown above, where the upper board has moved between exposures. Although a closed book may appear not to change considerably when it is turned either horizontally or vertically, the extent to which the opening of the fore-edge changes can often result in the images not being properly aligned. For this reason, and in cases where the original has been recorded to reveal an opening, the lower edge may have been omitted from recording.

Oeuvres, Jacques le Royer, 1678, Avranches (shelfmark: Broxb. 46.10). This very rare volume of scientific tracts has a functional binding: one cover houses a stylus or gnomon that acts as a sundial. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-4610-dbd79fe9abe44eab9f688f3766903438

Where beneficial, volumes have been recorded so that both the outside and inside of the boards are shown in the model. A note written by bookseller E. P. Goldschmidt, accompanying the volume shown above, states that this is an example of ‘A rare and extraordinary book printed at a small town in Normandy, preserved in its original binding which in fact comprises astronomical instruments without which no copy can be said to be complete.’ Before being presented to the Bodleian in 1978, this booked belonged to the Broxbourne library, compiled by book collector Albert Ehrman (1890-1969). Ehrman had a particular interest in bookbinding and named his library after his hometown in Hertfordshire. Many of the 3D models created and published by ARCHiOx have been recorded from volumes in the Bodleian’s Broxbourne collection, including the 17^th century embroidered book of Psalms shown at the beginning of this post. This volume features portraits of Charles II and Catherine of Braganza. One of the first photogrammetric recordings to be made at the Bodleian, this model was made under the guidance of Ana Carrasco Huertas, PhD candidate, conservator and archaeologist from the University of Granada.

Dozens of 3D models have since been created and published. Finding solutions for making successful models in an efficient way has involved a great deal of experimentation. A recurring complication which myself and colleague Dylan Schirmacher encounter is in the processing of models captured from bindings bearing matching designs on both boards. Often these have been so perfectly made that even the sophisticated photogrammetry software is unable to detect that the upper and lower boards constitute two separate faces rather than one. The resultant model compiles all of the images to form a single face with four surrounding sides. This is testament to the bookbinders’ skill in duplicating their design.

Auct. T. inf. 1. 10, New Testament, lacking Revelation (‘Codex Ebnerianus’). 12th century, beginning, Byzantine, Constantinople https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/ms-auct-t-inf-1-10-ce1a9803e7d2470484e4451fa2e13252

Reproducing the reflective nature of metallic surfaces is particularly challenging in both conventional photography and in photogrammetry. The incredible silver and ivory binding from the Byzantine, Codex Ebnerianus was photographed from over 300 different angles to produce the model shown above. By selectively masking only the silver parts of the model and applying a metalness mask, the author’s colleague, Dylan Schirmacher has produced a very convincing 3D recreation of the original. Not only is it hoped that this recording will be beneficial to researchers, it will also safeguard this unique and fragile manuscript binding.

[pr.] Shelley g.1, Sophocles, 1809, Oxford. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/pr-shelley-g1-61a9301b60904911967f0ff6fe8df219

The majority of the volumes selected for photogrammetry have been chosen primarily due to their aesthetic quality. The small volume shown above is an exception, and was recorded because of the intriguing story surrounding its provenance. It was presented to the Library in in 1893 and catalogued by Librarian, E.W.B. Nicholson, as being ‘Found in Shelley’s hand at his death’. The volume was displayed with the caption ‘Shelley’s Sophocles which he had with him when drowned. Presented to the Bodleian Library, Oxford, by Jane, Lady Shelley [The end edge is supposed to show the mark of Shelley’s thumb]’. Whether or not the story is true, there is good evidence to support the claim that volume belonged to Percy Shelley. The Bodleian holds a matching, pocket-sized edition of Aeschylus containing annotations in Shelley’s hand. Had the Sophocles volume not been discovered with Shelley’s body, perhaps it could have been among the volumes salvaged from his boat, the Ariel. What is undeniable is the presence of a thumb-sized indentation on the upper edge of this small, badly water-damaged book.

The reader is invited to explore the Bodleian’s growing collection of photogrammetric models using the following link.

https://sketchfab.com/ARCHiOx/models

This exciting project has been made possible through the generous funding support of the Helen Hamlyn Trust.

John Barrett is Studio Manager and Senior Photographer for Bodleian Imaging Services and ARCHiOx Technical Lead at the Bodleian Libraries

A conversation with Robert Bolick, collector and curator of ‘Books on Books’

Hands holding a print of Trajan's column — Opening a copy of Rutherford Witthus, TRAIANVS: A Folly for Bibliophiles (2023)

by Emilia Osztafi, intern, Bodleian Rare Books section

Robert Bolick has been collecting artists’ books since 2012. His collection ‘Books on Books’ contains over 1200 items: artists’ books, livres d’artistes, altered books, book objects, prints and ephemera. He writes about individual pieces on his blog, books-on-books.com. A selection of over 150 works featured in the recent Bodleian exhibition curated by Robert, Alphabets Alive! (July 2023 to January 2024), and he is donating a large collection to the Bodleian, making artists’ books physically accessible to future readers. These are now being catalogued by the Bodleian Rare Books section.

I am an undergraduate studying English at Wadham College, Oxford, with a growing interest in book history, and currently the summer intern in the Bodleian Rare Books section. Here, I’m getting an insight into what librarians do – the behind-the-scenes of the Bodleian’s Department of Special Collections. It was fascinating to speak to Robert about the themes and implications of his collection.

The phrase ‘Books on Books’ speaks to a fundamental aspect of artists’ books: they interrogate the book. Some pieces play with the material form of books – binding, printing, typography – and the idea of the book. Others respond to text in experimental ways.

Artists’ books present interesting dilemmas for librarians. How do we catalogue a book whose pages have been glued shut? Should a box of cigarettes printed with text be considered a book?

Where a library would organize a collection by author of the text, Robert’s list prioritises the visual artist. Chaucer’s ABC is listed under F for Joyce Francis, the artist of the wood engraving on the title page and paper cover. Many artists’ books, as Robert says, are fundamentally about the relation of text to image, which is not just ‘text versus image’ but perhaps ‘text and image’ or even ‘text drives image’ or, conversely, ‘image drives text’.

What seems to be a simple learning tool for children – the alphabet book – alerts us that letters are not just text, but visual shapes which we must learn to read as text, and speak as sound. Experimenting with alphabets appeals to book artists like Kurt Schwitters, whose Die Scheuche Märchen [The Scare-Crow Fairy Tale] (1925) has letters jump out of their expected places to act out the sounds they might make.

This artist’s book, like many others in Robert’s collection, resembles illustrated children’s books. When I ask whether children should be able to use and enjoy the Books on Books, Robert is surprisingly generous. Although he would be careful giving ‘vigorous’ young readers books that are theoretically unique, he is less concerned when it comes to books in multiples, even limited editions. ‘I’m not too bothered if some of these works are damaged, or altered, in usage.’ This goes for all books, Robert says, even ‘rare books’. We shouldn’t forget that valuable items have indeed been touched, kissed, and doodled in by readers across time.

Protection and conservation are crucial concerns for libraries, as I learnt from my first week in the Bodleian Libraries Rare Books office, where I was tasked with calling up valuable and fragile first edition books to be taken off the open shelves in the University of Oxford’s libraries. Artists’ books often poke fun at the stereotypical collector’s fantasy of a ‘clean copy’, and the attempts of library conservators to keep a book in its original state. Tim Mosely’s The Book of Tears (2014) – a pun on tearing and crying – invites the reader to ‘make a tear in the pages of the book (or if you are a conservator a repair)’ and according to Mosely’s website, the ‘final state of the book is determined by the book’s owner’. A book that will be altered by its readers poses a practical problem for libraries. It also throws a fascinating light on the relationship between the book and the library in our culture.

You can hear more about this theme of libraries and altered books in the recordings of a 2023 symposium on Agrippa: A book of the dead (a ‘self-destructing book’)

In the Bodleian’s hands, items in the Books on Books collection will be available for scholars, teachers, and interested people to experience and enjoy. Reading rooms are, of course, quiet and controlled environments, but Robert finds that the Bodleian reading rooms still maintain some freedom to ‘let a book articulate itself’ by handling it, taking photos, and moving its parts.

Some books are just too large, or contain too many moveable parts, to be read seated in the library. TRAIANVS (2023), by the librarian and book artist Rutherford Witthus, enacts the Column of Trajan in a tall accordion book in a box, which slides open to reveal two secret books bound together and printed with an ABC.

Rutherford Witthus’s TRAIANVS, unfolded on a library seminar table

In response to my probing question as to whether ‘to read’ is the right verb to convey the experience of larger installation pieces, Robert replies, yes. We can even ‘read’ architectural book art like Jeffrey Morin and Steven Ferlauto’s Sacred Space (2003) – a twelve-inch chapel, its glass walls printed with letters of the alphabet. Sacred Space encourages a kind of sacred reading practice, echoing centuries of meditative ritual in churches furnished with stained glass windows and stone carvings, telling scriptural stories. An essential part of ‘reading’ this piece is building the chapel, literally, from its glass panels.

Jeffrey Morin and Steven Ferlauto’s Sacred Space (2003)

A key theme of Books on Books is alterations, which can take different forms. Carving away physical chunks of Tristram Shandy, as Brian Dettmer (2014) does, is not the same as the erasure of words and phrases from pages, as in Jérémie Bennequin’s Erased Proust Writing (2016). Robert believes these artists are ‘saying different things, about the book, about the process of making and unmaking, and the process by which unmaking becomes making.’

Robert writes his blog posts for book artists, interested people, and people who ask him, ‘What do you mean, book art? What do you mean, book artist? What is that?!’ He hopes there will be further exhibitions and displays of his collection in the future, giving us the chance to hover and walk around the pieces, and circulating them beyond the reading room. Meanwhile the works are available for Bodleian Libraries readers (link to Admissions) and for visiting classes (link to CSB).

Artists’ books can be complicated, infused with philosophy and critical theory, and demanding us to decode them. But they are also a way of getting at these ideas, making them visible and real. Towards the end of our conversation, Robert says, ‘I find it really fascinating to grasp an otherwise impenetrable expression in the philosophy of aesthetics by simply looking at some aesthetic object made in response to that expression. “Oh, that’s what you’re trying to say. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”‘

A Remarkable Find: The Discovery of an Unknown Manuscript in the Bodleian

by Rahel Micklich, postdoctoral research fellow, Julius Maximilian University of Würzburg

The Bodleian Library, famous for its treasures and rich history, never fails to surprise. This holds true even for Colin Harris, the former Superintendent of the Bodleian’s Special Collections Reading Rooms, who devoted five decades of his life to this role. Now retired, he can still be found sitting at the very end of the Mackerras Reading Room on level one of the Weston Library, every Monday to Friday!

It was here , while poring over prints, rare books, and photographs, that he ‘stumbled’ upon an uncatalogued manuscript, nestled in the middle of a 16^th-century collective volume, primarily composed of anti-Lutheran polemics and tracts defending the Catholic Mass. This year now marks the quincentenary of its printed source text.

The volume, located under the shelfmark 4° N 14(5) Th BS, is bound in a 19th-century Bodleian binding and aptly titled Eckius Aliique Contra Lutheranos (“Eckius and Others Against the Lutherans”). It comprises two parts: the first contains two texts authored by one of Martin Luther’s staunchest opponents, the Catholic theologian Johann Eck (1486–1543). The Bodleian acquired it in the 17th century. The second and larger part consists of ten texts acquired by the Bodleian in 1835 from the renowned auction house Sotheby’s, which was selling portions of the library of the German book collector Georg Kloss (1787–1854). This section includes writings by Johann Eck, Hieronymus Emser (1477–1527), and Johann Cochlaeus (1479–1552).

Among these, Colin spotted the manuscript. Hidden in the volume, it hadn’t attracted any particular attention. The copy contains the text of Hieronymus Emser’s Canonis Missae contra Huldricum Zvinglium Defensio (Dresden, 1524), published in defence of the Mass against the Swiss Reformer Huldrych Zwingli.

Emser had already challenged Luther’s critique of the Mass, and rebutted Zwingli just six weeks later, longing that Zwingli might return to the holy bosom of the Church (reditum eius in sanctum ecclesiae gremium vehementer sitiens).

Surprisingly, the manuscript copy though neatly written shows a series of mistakes, with the transcription exhibiting almost five hundred deviations from the original. The biggest blunder, however, is found right at the beginning, as the scribe copies the wrong dedication, mixing it up with the dedication of the preceding text, Emser’s tract against Luther!

Emser’s tract against Zwingli is available in three imprints, one published in 1524 in Dresden, another in the same year in Strasbourg, and a third in 1532 in Cologne. Of these, the Strasbourg edition is the most flawed. A comparison suggests that the copyist followed the Dresden edition, the most accurate of the three.

A notable example of how the manuscript could be affected by the scribe is his substitution or muddling up of incircumcisus (in the imprint) with incircumtonsus (in the manuscript). While the Dresden printing reads (referencing 1 Sam. 17: 26) incircumcisus tam corpore quam corde et labiis (“uncircumcised in body, heart and words”), the manuscript reads incircumtonsus (“giving up one’s tonsure in body, heart and words”). This might be a reading mistake, but it could also be an intentional choice to point at Luther, a monk who had turned away from his vow.

There is a strong argument that the manuscript was produced not before August 1526, two years after the Dresden and Strasbourg editions. In it, Emser’s text is preceded by an introduction, written by the same hand, which refers to Jodocus Clithopheus’ Propugnaculum Ecclesiae adversus Lutheranos, published in Paris in August 1526. The introduction quotes almost verbatim a passage from chapter 6 of book 1, summarising Emser’s writings against Luther and Zwingli.

Canonis Missae contra Huldricum Zvinglium Defensio, fol. 1r

But who copied or commissioned the text, and why? And what about its provenance? Whose library did it belong to?

Sotheby’s Catalogue of the Library of Dr. Kloss, which lists all the books acquired from the German book collector, seems to provide an answer: the German Reformer Philipp Melanchthon! It describes the compilation of Reformation polemics as ‘a very rare and curious collection of tracts relating to the Lutheran controversy,’ and suggests that ‘it is very probable that the manuscript copy of the tract by Zvinglius [one of the many mistakes of the catalogue: the text is Emser’s against Zwingli] is copied by Melancthon.’

However, one shouldn’t get too excited, since it is, as we say today, fake news. Sotheby’s appears to have employed a clever marketing strategy, claiming a large portion of the Kloss collection as Melanchthon’s––much to Kloss’s annoyance.

Over the years, Kloss wrote several letters expressing his indignation about it, and in 1841, he finally released a public statement distancing himself from Sotheby & Son’s ‘fabricating a Bibliotheca Melanchthonia.’ Poor Melanchthon, thought Kloss, would have suffered from aching hands had he indeed written all the marginalia as stated in the Catalogue. Kloss seemed concerned that Sotheby’s shenanigans might tarnish his own reputation. Moreover, it was a matter of honour for him not to be silent on the swindle and to distance himself from their ‘Melanchthomania’.

It’s hardly surprising that the manuscript did not come from Melanchthon’s library, given its pro-Catholic content and the anti-Lutheran attitude of the entire collection, not to mention that the handwriting doesn’t match Melanchthon’s. It is more likely that the volume originated from the library of a well-educated Roman Catholic with a keen interest in the topic. Unfortunately, little more can be said about it at present, but further research might provide clarification.

While the manuscript does not share the 500^th birthday with Emser’s Defensio, as suggested, its unearthing can stand as a celebration of Emser’s tract from 1524. Moreover, it may invite further scholarship not only on the topic but also on itself. And, last but not least, it serves as a reminder that there may still be undiscovered treasures within the vast universe of libraries, even within renowned institutions like the Bodleian. In any case, Colin Harris’ finding is a remarkable one.

Thanks to Colin for advice and encouragement!

For the whole story, read the post on The History of the Book blog.

Ulysses meets Casanova

James Joyce, Ulysses (1922) open to title page — James Joyce, Ulysses (London: Egoist Press, 1922). Bodleian Library, Ryder 2

Evi Heinz, Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin

One of the treasures of the Bodleian’s John Ryder collection is a copy of the first British edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses, published in a private limited edition by John Rodker for the Egoist Press in October 1922. An intriguing detail in this volume throws new light on the relationship between the Irish writer’s infamous modernist novel and the contemporary trade in polite erotica.

The Egoist Press’s British edition of Ulysses was printed from the same plates as Sylvia Beach’s earlier Paris edition – a text famously riddled with misprints – and was issued with an eight-page errata sheet. In Ryder 2, this sheet has been bound into the volume and in one place shows a watermark spelling the name ‘Casanova’.

Light through sheet of paper showing watermark: Casanova — Casanova watermark on errata sheet bound in with Ryder 2

This curious watermark has been identified by bibliographical scholar Gerald W. Cloud as belonging to a London-based private press called the ‘Casanova Society’. This publishing venture, also managed by Rodker, issued luxurious limited editions of erotic classics, from the Memoirs of Casanova to the Arabian Nights.

The use of the ‘Casanova’ paper for the Ulysses errata sheets is likely incidental – Rodker, who was engaged in both publishing projects at the same time, may have simply needed some spare paper at short notice and used what he had to hand. Nevertheless, this unexpected material encounter between two very different cultural signifiers is worth exploring further: What can the publications of the Casanova Society tell us about how Joyce’s book fits into the early twentieth-century limited editions market? And how does Ulysses feature in the literary imagination of contemporary readers of polite erotica?

The Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova di Seingalt, trans. by Arthur Machen (London: Casanova Society, 1922-23), 12 vols. Bodleian, Arch. D d.73

Among the Casanova Society titles deposited in the Bodleian collections is a copy of the luxuriously produced 12-volume Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova di Seingalt, printed privately for subscribers between 1922 and 1923. With its gilt edges, quarter-calf binding and fine printing on hand-made paper, this publication tells us something about the level of material excellence that was expected by early twentieth-century collectors.

It also allows us to put into perspective the claims that are sometimes made for the early limited editions of Ulysses as ‘deluxe’ publications. In fact, their less than perfect printing and fragile softcover binding are a far cry from contemporary bibliophile’s editions, such as those issued by the Casanova Society. Ryder 2 is an interesting example of this fragility: the copy appears to have been rebound in leather by a previous owner but is now missing its cover and is held together by a make-shift book sleeve.

Ryder 2, binding and make-shift book sleeve

On a literary level, too, the Casanova Society offers an interesting perspective on Joyce’s novel: Francis MacNamara’s preface to Balzac’s The Physiology of Marriage, printed privately by the Casanova Society in 1925, makes direct mention of Ulysses as a modern successor to the French love literature of the early nineteenth century. Noting that ‘in Joyce’s Ulysses we have the very love that is demanded of a husband, the love of things in all their distasteful reality’ (p. vii), MacNamara presents the Irish writer’s book as a work in the tradition of Stendhal and Balzac, offering an intriguing way of approaching its much discussed ‘obscenity’.

Indeed, it is in this context that the linkage between Ulysses and the Casanova Society offers the most food for thought: both are phenomena of the 1920s that can tell us something about how the book culture of the period negotiated the borders between good taste and bad, literature and obscenity. And the watermark on the Ryder 2 errata sheets – where Ulysses meets Casanova – is a potent symbol of this intriguing cultural conjunction.

Evi Heinz was Sassoon Visiting Fellow at the Bodleian Libraries during October and November 2023

Book-bindings and the global middle ages

Matthew Holford, Tolkien Curator of Medieval Manuscripts at the Bodleian Libraries, writes:

Last week I organized a show-and-tell for students from the Department of Continuing Education studying the undergraduate certificate in the History of Art. One of the difficulties in selecting material was responding to the course’s emphasis on what has been called the ‘global turn’ in art history with its shift away from an exclusive focus on artefacts from Christian Europe and an increased focus on cross-cultural connections.

This is a potential challenge for a library where curatorial expertise and responsibility is very much structured according to linguistic and geographical boundaries. Nevertheless, excellent examples of interactions between European and Islamic art can be found in fifteenth-century Italian book-bindings, of which the Bodleian has an important collection. Connections between Italy and the Islamic world were extensive, as a result both of trade and diplomacy, and manuscripts were among the items crossing the Mediterranean. Books in Arabic are recorded in a number of contemporary Italian inventories, and Islamic books from the Mamluk sultanate (centred on modern Egypt and Syria) provided the most important models for the development of decorated leather bindings in fifteenth-century Italy.

Bodleian MS. E. D. Clarke 28, right (lower) cover

Historians of bookbinding have identified two main phases of development. The first was centred in Florence from around the second quarter of the century and came to be recognized by contemporaries as ‘modo fiorentino’, ‘Florentine style’. It was characterized by borders of geometrically arranged ‘twisted rope’ patterns, in blind, with roundels punched in gilt, often with a centrepiece and four cornerpieces. Our example above (MS. E. D. Clarke 28) is on a manuscript of Terence copied in 1466 (the four clasps, on the other hand, are a typically Italian feature).

A second line of development is associated with humanists active around Padua in the 1460s. Again their decoration is characterized by ropework borders and a circular or vesical-shaped centrepiece: the crucial innovation is tooling in gilt. Although there are earlier Italian examples of gilt tooling the Paduan bindings, borrowing from Islamic influences, were the first to fully realize its artistic possibilities. An example in the Bodleian (MS. Auct. F. 4. 33) is on a copy of Martial’s Epigrams written by the famous scribe Bartolomeo Sanvito probably in Padua in the 1460s.

A final binding (MS. Canon. Ital. 78), on a manuscript of Petrarch written in Florence in the third quarter of the fifteenth century, shows even stronger Islamic influence. The previous two bindings have wooden boards; this has very thin pasteboards, flush with the text block, in common with most contemporary Islamic bindings. The insides of the covers have decorated leather pastedowns (known as doublures), again very typical of Islamic bindings.

MS. Canon. Ital. 78, right (lower) inside cover, showing doublure, and stained endleaf; traces of flap visible at the edge of the cover

A final Islamic feature is a right-to-left envelope flap [https://www.ligatus.org.uk/lob/concept/1343 ], now lost, but small traces remain. In fact Islamic characteristics are so marked that an Islamic origin for the binding has been suggested. The decoration is Ottoman in character, and although the manuscript has endleaves of Western paper, stained purple in an Italian style, Anthony Hobson’s intriguing suggestion was that ‘a Florentine merchant took the works of his favourite poet with him to Istanbul and had them bound there’. That suggestion needs to be reconsidered in the light of the substantial body of research on Islamic bindings that has appeared since Hobson wrote: but regardless of its exact origin, this binding is a powerful illustration of the influence of the Islamic world on Italian decorative arts.

— with thanks to Andrew Honey, Bodleian Conservation

Unearthing a Hidden Melody

The secrets of engraved printing plates brought to light by innovative imaging

Chiara Betti, Collaborative Doctoral Partnership PhD student at the School of Advanced Study, University of London, and Bodleian Libraries

William Child. Choise Musick to the Psalmes of David for Three Voices with a Continuall Base either for the Organ Or Theorbo / Composed by William Child. London: 1656. Psalm 9.

How do we see the past? Are there new ways to look at library objects? The display ‘Prints, Plates & Pixels’ which I had the pleasure to curate, open at the Weston Library from the 18^th of May until the 18^th of August 2024, shows the advancements made possible by the use of innovative imaging techniques and the collaboration of humanities and sciences to look at heritage objects. I began work in 2020 to examine the history and future of several hundred printing plates bequeathed by Richard Rawlinson in 1755 and held at the Bodleian Library. These objects were used to print images, often for book illustrations. While the printed image shows us the end result, the printing plates are the only living proof of the engraver’s work, showing us how deeply they engraved the lines and even when they changed their mind and made corrections!

Printing plates have shallow engraved or etched lines that only show their true detail when impressed in ink on paper. Inevitably, those shallow lines were flattened by repeated use and corrosion. My initial approach to studying the plates’ manufacture adopted traditional methods of viewing artworks in closeup, like digital photography, raking light and a magnifying glass. But the plates’ deterioration hampered my efforts.

However, I did not let that defeat me, and when in 2022, the ARCHiOx Project at the Bodleian Library was launched, I grabbed with both hands the chance to get involved. The project aimed to digitise Bodleian artefacts using prototype photographic and 3D scanning systems. The collaboration between Bodleian academics and Factum Foundation experts facilitated the exploration of the physical properties of Bodleian materials like Sanskrit manuscripts and the Gough Map of Britain, revealing previously unnoticed details and techniques. The opportunity to image some of the Rawlinson copper plates was transformative for my research on this collection of copper plates and led to new discoveries.

The most astounding was the identification of the engraved music on the reverse of a small portrait plate depicting Cardinal Julio Mazarin, included in the ‘Prints, Plates & Pixels’ display. I had noticed the notation during my initial survey, but only my collaboration with John Barret, Senior Photographer at the Bodleian, and Peter Ward Jones, former Curator at the Library, brought the music back to light.

Frontispiece of Galeazzo Gualdo Priorato, The History of the Managements of Cardinal Julio Mazarine (London: 1671). The British Library.

Thanks to the ARCHiOx rendering, it emerged that the reverse of the copper plate is a fragment of Psalm 9 from the Cantus Primus part of William Child’s The First Set of Psalmes of III Voyces published in London by James Reave in 1639 and reissued by John Playford (1623–86) from the original plates in 1650 and 1656 as Choise Musick.

Two views of the reverse of Rawl. Copperplates g.184. ARCHiOx albedo (colour) and annotated version.

I was not expecting the formal portrait of the Cardinal to hide such treasure on its reverse. The discovery was truly momentous, but we must briefly consider the history of music printing in England to appreciate that. As I realised, the use of copper plates for music engraving was comparatively short-lived. Music engraved on copper first appeared in the country around 1612–13, but by the early 18^th century, copper plates were replaced with softer pewter plates, which allowed faster production and had the considerable advantage of being cheaper than copper. This re-purposed item is now possibly the earliest surviving copper music plate in the world. In fact, many engraved plates were indeed sold for scrap metal once their commercial value was exhausted. Furthermore, during the World Wars of the 20^th century, the need for scrap metal led to numerous publishers donating their stock of plates to support the war effort. Therefore, the preservation of pre-1900 music plates is absolutely remarkable.

This blog and my display, ‘Prints, Plates & Pixels’, offer a small glimpse into the exploration of historical printing plates through the lens of innovative imaging techniques and interdisciplinary collaboration. Through projects like ARCHiOx, the fusion of humanities and sciences enables profound discoveries, showing us even more from the rare survivals carefully kept in libraries and museums. Cutting-edge imaging technology can open new pathways for studying cultural heritage objects. Above all, innovative digitisation methods enhance accessibility and facilitate deeper exploration of artefacts.

About Richard Rawlinson:

The antiquary Richard Rawlinson (1690–1755) had a passion for preserving Britain’s heritage and the wealth to collect books, manuscripts, charters, prints, paintings, coins, and many other artworks that filled his London house to the brim. He left most of his collections to the University of Oxford, where they are preserved and studied today, constantly revealing more about their origins, use and significance. Among his collections were several manuscripts of Chaucer’s works, a medieval Anglo-Jewish bowl (now at the Ashmolean Museum) and one of the earliest manuscript copies of Magna Carta [MS. Rawlinson C 641, fols. 21v-29 https://magnacarta.cmp.uea.ac.uk/read/magna_carta_copies/Magna_Carta_1215]. Rawlinson didn’t limit his collections to precious and unique artefacts. He also gathered scrap paper from cheesemongers and chandlers and used objects that were not prized by art connoisseurs. The 752 printing plates, dating from the early 17th to mid-18th centuries, are typical of this impulse since two-thirds of them are second-hand. They perfectly match Rawlinson’s interests: pictures of places, objects, and people that told the story of British history as he saw it. Rawlinson also created a sort of picture archive, commissioning engravers to depict unique objects in his own vast antiquarian collections either for book illustrations or to circulate privately among other antiquaries and collectors.

The display in the Weston Library opens 19 May 2024

Further reading about ARCHiOX and copper plates in The Conveyor:

John Barrett, ARCHiOx: research and development in imaging.

Chiara Betti, Chiara Betti brings to light the Rawlinson copper plates at the Bodleian Library

Chiara Betti and Alexandra Franklin, Copper plates in the Bodleian Libraries

Chiara Betti, Researching and Digitising Copper Printing Plates at the Bodleian Library

Chiara Betti is a Collaborative Doctoral Partnership PhD student at the School of Advanced Study, University of London, and the Bodleian Libraries. Readers with an interest in Chiara’s research are encouraged to contact her at chiara.betti[at]postgrad.sas.ac.uk. The research is funded by the AHRC through the Collaborative Doctoral Partnership. See: Early modern copper plates at the Bodleian Libraries

Watching wood type

Woodtype and linocut prints at the Bodleian Bibliographical Press

The Bodleian Bibliographical Press holds a collection of wood type in many sizes and styles. These include a few made by the famous firms of DeLittle of York and Stephenson, Blake of Sheffield.

The wood letters have been used at the Bodleian Bibliographical Press to make posters. Some of these prints can be seen at the Oxfordshire ArtWeeks open studio event on Saturday and Sunday 11 and 12 May 2024, 12-4 pm.

The donation was from Stephen Austin Printers in 2013. The catalogue was made and scanned by Paul Nash. The film begins slowly with explanatory slides, but viewers seeking purely visual thrills may skip to minute 4:27 on, with an especially exciting 26-line modified sans serif at 5:20.

More information on the work of DeLittle can be seen in Clare Bolton, DeLittle: an English Wood-Letter Manufacturer (Alembic Press, 1981)

Elements of the DeLittle wood type collection previously at the Type Archive have been moved to the York Centre for Print which hosts the Thin Ice Press.

Manuscripts: from skin to page

Rebecca Schleuss, MSt in Modern Languages at University of Oxford, on studying the materials of the book

When you mostly work with editions of texts, it is easy to detach them from their physical containers and forget about their materiality. During an afternoon with Andrew Honey, book conservator at Bodleian Libraries, and Matthew Holford, Tolkien Curator of Medieval Manuscripts at the Bodleian Libraries, we learned that size, material, texture and quality – irrespective of content – can reveal a lot about a manuscript book.

Parchment was used as a writing surface in Europe since the 2nd century, being replaced by paper from the 13^th century onwards. To make parchment, the animal skin of calves, sheep or goats first need to be cleaned of hair and skin. For that the skin is soaked in lime solution to loosen the hair and then scraped first with a blunt knife, then with a sharp knife to remove the rest of the skin.

What differentiates parchment from leather, however, is the following step: the skin gets tensioned onto a frame, called a herse, while still wet and is left to dry. A half-circular lunar knife is used on the stretched skin for further smoothness. Afterwards, sheets are cut out of the parchment to utilise as much of the skin as possible – consequently we encounter some pages with irregular edges, cut from the sides of the skin. A careful observer can at times even detect from which part of the animal’s body the piece is from, making out the contours of the spine or darker coloured arm-pits and leg-pits.

As this is a manual process, accidents happen and the knife can pierce the skin during the production process. The animal also might have had wounds which then create round holes on the parchment, expanding as the skin is stretched; these are known as fly-bites. Their shape and how they are treated by parchment-makers and scribes can reveal when these holes appeared. If it happened during the processing of the skin, then it was mostly sewn together again and the ends are closely aligned.

Scribes wrote around or playfully ornamented extant holes, revealing the care taken to accommodate the various qualities of parchment. As Andrew pointed out, both the parchment-makers and later the scriptorium decided whether and how to hide the faults in the sheet of parchment.

MS. Laud Misc. 439, fols. 35v-36r. The structure of the columns accommodates the hole.

The manuscripts brought along for the session wonderfully illustrated this, containing some insightful examples of irregularities and the methods employed to adapt to them. It made apparent that there was a spectrum to how ‘perfect’ a sheet of parchment needed to be: some flaws were carefully erased, others were acceptable to remain and were incorporated into the layout of the page. The manuscripts also bore testimony to the fact that parchment was valuable.

A parchment manuscript could well contain the hides of a whole herd of animals, making them expensive and precious possessions. Consequently, parchment was reused – as seen in MS Laud. Misc. 306, fols. 72v-73r, where the wide margins are used as ‘quarries’ for small pieces of parchment – and could end up in the most wondrous places (in bindings, as covers of books, in hem of dresses, and saint’s crowns).

Even though paper became the main writing surface – surviving to this day (if we don’t count our Word-documents, which we surely don’t) – parchment continued to be utilised. In the MS Huntington 300 a mixed quire can be found that uses both paper and parchment.

This is written on paper… MS. Huntington 300, fol. 144r

… and this on parchment! MS. Huntington 300, fol. 143v

Re-blogged from the History of the Book blog: read more here….

Codicology in the Weston: A whodunit through the Ages – History of the Book (ox.ac.uk)

‘I dare say will please you when you see them’ – more ‘new’ wood-blocks of an old grotesque alphabet.

Andrew Honey (Bodleian and English Faculty, Oxford)

An earlier blogpost introduced a newly acquired wood-block, a 19^th-century copy made of the letter K from a woodcut alphabet – the original ‘K’ being one of 23 letters from a Netherlandish woodcut grotesque alphabet of 1464 that is now at the British Museum. The facsimile copy was used in 1839 to print Treatise on Wood-engraving. In the last post we saw that the popularity of the original grotesque alphabet resulted in 15^th and 16^th century printed and manuscript copies, and we also saw that the facsimile was printed in 1839 using brown ink to convey the materiality of its water-based printing ink. This relates the interest in this alphabet to the curiosity about the printing of blockbooks, a lasting subject of fascination for historians of printing.

Figure 5: Bodleian Library, MS. Hearne’s Diaries 50, pp. 18-19.

This desire to convey the materiality of early water-based printing inks was shared a century earlier by Thomas Hearne (1678-1735). In his 1714 essay on early printing ink the Oxford antiquarian and sub-librarian at the Bodleian Library discussed the colour and texture of the ink used for some blockbooks and early woodcuts, while discussing their place in the history of printing.

“any one that will give himself the trouble of considering the first Specimens of Printing that we have in the Bodlejan Library, being two thin folio Books containing odd Pictures (from wooden cuts) […] will afford to a curious observer many Speculations. But because those Books cannot be conveyed out of the Library […] to give him a better Idea of the nature of them I shall here subjoyn the Speciment of a Fragment of another Book […] that was communicated to me by Mr. Bagford.”

To illustrate his point he pasted a fragment of a German blockbook Biblia pauperum c.1462-8 (Bod-Inc BB-5) into his diary, a fragment given to him by John Bagford (1650-1716) the antiquary and bookseller.

The Treatise tells us more about the interest shown in the 15^th century grotesque alphabet when it was rediscovered. On the 27 May 1819 the antiquary Samuel Lysons (1763-1819) wrote to Sir George Beaumont (1753-1827), the then owner of the grotesque alphabet:

“I return herewith your curious volume of ancient cuts. I showed it yesterday to Mr. Douce, who agrees with me that it is a great curiosity. He thinks the blocks were executed at Harlem, and are some of the earliest productions of that place. He has in his possession most of the letters executed in copper, but very inferior to the original cuts.”

Francis Douce (1757-1834), an antiquarian and collector, had been a Keeper of the Department of Manuscripts at the British Museum between 1807-11. The ‘letters executed in copper’ are probably the early copy of the grotesque alphabet by the Master of the Banderoles. Douce would visit the Bodleian in July 1830 where he studied the three complete blockbooks then in the Bodleian’s collection. In 1834 he bequeathed his enormous collection to the Bodleian which included two blockbooks and three wood-blocks.

Woodcut of letters X and Y — Figure 6: Bodleian Library, Douce woodblocks f.1

Woodcut of letter Z — Figure 7: Bodleian Library, Douce woodblocks f.2

These two blocks shown above are facsimiles of the letters X, Y & Z from the same grotesque alphabet. Their existence in the Douce collection was first mentioned in 1897 by the incunabulist Robert Proctor who demonstrated that they had been made for John Bagford in the early eighteenth century for a projected history of printing. Recent work by Whitney Trettien and Edward Potten has linked our two blocks with a block for the letters K & L at the British Museum. These three alphabet blocks and our third Douce block join two others, one at the John Rylands Library and one at the British Library, to form a group of six surviving blocks for Bagford’s history of printing.

Impressions of woodcuts of letters X, Y, Z formed from grotesque figures — Figure 8: Impressions of wood-blocks for John Bagford’s projected History of Printing given to Thomas Hearne. Bodleian Library, MS. Rawl. D. 384, fol. 38r.

We also have prints of A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, X, Y & Z from the Bagford blocks in Hearne’s collection (now part of MS. Rawl. D. 384). A note on the back of X, Y & Z states “These are figures of odd letters wch I had from Mr Bagford. I have an Account of them from his own mouth in one of my Diary Books”.

In a letter to Hearne from Bagford dated 6 February 1708 we learn that:

“Mr Wanley hath lately hapined on some very ould Alphibets antiqe of yt Sorte of printing, cut on wood which I shall exhebite in my Booke, as sone as I have got them cut I shall send you a specement of them, and I dare say will please you when you se them.”

Later that year on 8 October Hearne gives a fuller account, presumably after he received the prints.

“Mr. Bagford has had a German printed Book of the Alphabet drawn exactly. It contains nothing more yn the Alphabet, only here and there a sentence in German inserted in ye Letters. They are all of a very large size for ye use of ye Illuminators, & are made up of several figures, as heads of Men, &c. The Z is made [backward z], […] He has another Alphabet, the letters of a stranger form. They are made up in Knotts with scroles of parchment.”

Just like our newly-acquired 19^th-century facsimile wood-block linked Douce, Lysons and Beaumont, these prints of Bagford’s earlier facsimile blocks link these 18th-century printing historians to a specific copy of the 15^th-century grotesque alphabet. This copy was owned by the antiquarian and librarian Humfrey Wanley (1672-1726), and is the second surviving copy, given to the British Museum in 1947.

Further reading

C.E. Doble, (ed.), ‘Remarks and Collections of Thomas Hearne: Vol. II (20 March 1707–22 March 1710)’, Oxford Historical Society 13 (Oxford, 1889).

Campbell Dodgson, ‘Two woodcut alphabets of the fifteenth century’, Burlington Magazine 17:90 (September 1910), pp. 362-5.

Edward Potten, ‘Dating the Rylands Apocalypse wood-block: John Bagford and the earliest facsimiles of blockbooks’, Journal of the Printing Historical Society TS 3 (2022), pp, 14-46.

Robert Proctor, ‘On two plates in Sotheby’s ‘Principia Typographica’’, Bibliographica 3 (1897) pp. 192-6.

Whitney Trettien, Cut/Copy/Paste: Fragments from the history of bookwork (Minneapolis, 2021).