Written Treasures

Fig. 4 (left) Eerste verdieping van het bibliotheekgebouw, Rapenburg. Plattegrond i.v.m. de verbouwing van 1915. Rechtsboven de kerk; linksmidden: werkzaal en depot voor de westerse handschriften.

Bibliotheekarchief, BA1 S 367.

Fig. 2 (left) Grieks handschrift met redevoeringen van Demosthenes, geschonken door Bonaventura Vulcanius in 1587 (ofschoon niet zijn eigendom maar vermoedelijk die van Johannes Arcerius (1538-1604)).

Vijftiende eeuw, tweede helft. Band (uit 1582 met initialen van de Leidse hoogleraar Petrus Tiara (1514-1586)) en schutblad met opdracht. BPG 33.

Fig. 5 (right) Instructie voor de bibliothecaris en de custos, in 1741 opgesteld door het college van curatoren. Archief van Curatoren, UBL, AC1 157.

Fig. 3 (right) Geschilderd portret van hoogleraar Bonaventura Vulcanius (1538-1614).

1609. UBL, Icones 24.

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39

Fig. 4 (left) Eerste verdieping van het bibliotheekgebouw, Rapenburg. Plattegrond i.v.m. de verbouwing van 1915. Rechtsboven de kerk; linksmidden: werkzaal en depot voor de westerse handschriften.

Bibliotheekarchief, BA1 S 367.

Fig. 2 (left) Grieks handschrift met redevoeringen van Demosthenes, geschonken door Bonaventura Vulcanius in 1587 (ofschoon niet zijn eigendom maar vermoedelijk die van Johannes Arcerius (1538-1604)).

Vijftiende eeuw, tweede helft. Band (uit 1582 met initialen van de Leidse hoogleraar Petrus Tiara (1514-1586)) en schutblad met opdracht. BPG 33.

Fig. 5 (right) Instructie voor de bibliothecaris en de custos, in 1741 opgesteld door het college van curatoren. Archief van Curatoren, UBL, AC1 157.

Fig. 3 (right) Geschilderd portret van hoogleraar Bonaventura Vulcanius (1538-1614).

1609. UBL, Icones 24.

38

39

Fig. 14 Fotoportret van hoogleraar rechtsgeschiedenis Willem Matthias d’Ablaing (1851-1889).

UBL, PK-PT-319.

Fig. 16 Sinte Franciscus leven.

BPL 83. Katern ·ii· (hier fol. 1-8) beschreven als BPL 103 in de catalogus van 1716 bleek afgedwaald uit deze codex, die begon met katern ·iii·, en is in 1902 terug ingevoegd. Katern ·i· ontbreekt nog.

Fig. 15 Fragment van de Limburgse Aiol.

Dertiende eeuw, eerste kwart. De verzen van een ridderroman zijn doorlopend genoteerd als proza, gescheiden door een punt: Hellewijn dů hi versach · dat Gwineot dar nieder / lach · stant up ai lecker seit hi drade · dat di got / ungeval berade · … (‘Toen Hellewijn zag dat Gwineot daar op de grond lag, zei hij snel: “Sta op, smeerlap. Dat God je ongeluk mag bezorgen! …’). BPL 1049.

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Fig. 14 Fotoportret van hoogleraar rechtsgeschiedenis Willem Matthias d’Ablaing (1851-1889).

UBL, PK-PT-319.

Fig. 16 Sinte Franciscus leven.

BPL 83. Katern ·ii· (hier fol. 1-8) beschreven als BPL 103 in de catalogus van 1716 bleek afgedwaald uit deze codex, die begon met katern ·iii·, en is in 1902 terug ingevoegd. Katern ·i· ontbreekt nog.

Fig. 15 Fragment van de Limburgse Aiol.

Dertiende eeuw, eerste kwart. De verzen van een ridderroman zijn doorlopend genoteerd als proza, gescheiden door een punt: Hellewijn dů hi versach · dat Gwineot dar nieder / lach · stant up ai lecker seit hi drade · dat di got / ungeval berade · … (‘Toen Hellewijn zag dat Gwineot daar op de grond lag, zei hij snel: “Sta op, smeerlap. Dat God je ongeluk mag bezorgen! …’). BPL 1049.

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01 | G OSPEL BOOK FROM SA IN T-A M A N D

01 | G OSPEL BOOK FROM SA IN T-A M A N D

The Bible as a growing manuscript 04 | Southern Netherlands History Bible Fifteenth century, second half – ltk 232 The collection on loan from the Maatschappij der Nederlandse Letterkunde (Dutch Literary Society) includes, under shelfmark LTK 232, a ‘Southern Netherlands History Bible’. That description might make you think it is a complete bible, written as a single document. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

Bibles such as these often contain only parts of the biblical text and may moreover consist of several sections bound together.

Fig. 1 > The contents of the manuscript, following by the list of kings of Israel and Judah, on a leaf of parchment inserted at the front. ltk 232, fol. 1r

T

This bible translation from the southern Netherlands consists primarily of the historical and narrative books from the Old Testament; the New Testament is entirely absent. The majority of the manuscripts with this translation that have survived contain only certain books of the Bible, with the selection most probably depending on the wishes of the purchasers or owners. That applies for LTK 232 as well. In it, we have Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy (collectively known as the Pentateuch), Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1–4 Kings, the Prayer of Manasses, Ezekiel (part), Habakkuk (part), Ezra (part), Job (possibly an independent version), Tobit, Daniel (part; possibly an independent version), Lamentations (part), Judith and Esther. In addition, LTK 232 contains a commentary on the Pentateuch after Deuteronomy that is derived from the Historia scholastica – a retelling of the historical books of the Bible by Petrus Comestor (c. 1100–1179) – and the book of Jonah after Daniel, of which the original translation has not yet been identified. This selective character, with only some of the books of the Bible included, and some of those only in part and/or translated by third parties, is typical of Middle Dutch biblical manuscripts, which were often produced to order.

he nomenclature ‘Southern Netherlands History Bible’ refers to a specific Middle Dutch translation of the Bible that was made between 1359 and 1383, commissioned by the Brussels patrician Jan Taye.

This translation is also known among researchers as the ‘Herne Bible’ and the ‘Bible of 1360’, the latter because the lion’s share of the translation was done in around 1360. The translator is therefore also regularly referred to as the ‘Bible translator of 1360’. It is now known that the translation was probably done by a monk in Herne (near Brussels), tentatively identified as Petrus Naghel, the prior of the Carthusians at Herne.

Fig. 2 Beginning of the first Bible book Genesis: In den beghinne sciep god / hemel ende aerde (‘In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth’).

LTK 232, fol. 2v, detail.

LTK 232 was actually copied in the Northern Netherlands somewhere in the second half of the fifteenth century, as are most of the surviving manuscripts with parts of the Southern Netherlands History Bible. The text has been written on paper quires with two parchment leaves inserted, bound together in a later binding. The first insert is right at the front,

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The Bible as a growing manuscript 04 | Southern Netherlands History Bible Fifteenth century, second half – ltk 232 The collection on loan from the Maatschappij der Nederlandse Letterkunde (Dutch Literary Society) includes, under shelfmark LTK 232, a ‘Southern Netherlands History Bible’. That description might make you think it is a complete bible, written as a single document. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

Bibles such as these often contain only parts of the biblical text and may moreover consist of several sections bound together.

Fig. 1 > The contents of the manuscript, following by the list of kings of Israel and Judah, on a leaf of parchment inserted at the front. ltk 232, fol. 1r

T

This bible translation from the southern Netherlands consists primarily of the historical and narrative books from the Old Testament; the New Testament is entirely absent. The majority of the manuscripts with this translation that have survived contain only certain books of the Bible, with the selection most probably depending on the wishes of the purchasers or owners. That applies for LTK 232 as well. In it, we have Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy (collectively known as the Pentateuch), Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1–4 Kings, the Prayer of Manasses, Ezekiel (part), Habakkuk (part), Ezra (part), Job (possibly an independent version), Tobit, Daniel (part; possibly an independent version), Lamentations (part), Judith and Esther. In addition, LTK 232 contains a commentary on the Pentateuch after Deuteronomy that is derived from the Historia scholastica – a retelling of the historical books of the Bible by Petrus Comestor (c. 1100–1179) – and the book of Jonah after Daniel, of which the original translation has not yet been identified. This selective character, with only some of the books of the Bible included, and some of those only in part and/or translated by third parties, is typical of Middle Dutch biblical manuscripts, which were often produced to order.

he nomenclature ‘Southern Netherlands History Bible’ refers to a specific Middle Dutch translation of the Bible that was made between 1359 and 1383, commissioned by the Brussels patrician Jan Taye.

This translation is also known among researchers as the ‘Herne Bible’ and the ‘Bible of 1360’, the latter because the lion’s share of the translation was done in around 1360. The translator is therefore also regularly referred to as the ‘Bible translator of 1360’. It is now known that the translation was probably done by a monk in Herne (near Brussels), tentatively identified as Petrus Naghel, the prior of the Carthusians at Herne.

Fig. 2 Beginning of the first Bible book Genesis: In den beghinne sciep god / hemel ende aerde (‘In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth’).

LTK 232, fol. 2v, detail.

LTK 232 was actually copied in the Northern Netherlands somewhere in the second half of the fifteenth century, as are most of the surviving manuscripts with parts of the Southern Netherlands History Bible. The text has been written on paper quires with two parchment leaves inserted, bound together in a later binding. The first insert is right at the front,

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20 | PRU DEN TIUS , PS YCHOM ACHI A A N D OTHER WOR K S

20 | PRU DEN TIUS , PS YCHOM ACHI A A N D OTHER WOR K S

WORDS AND LANGUAGES

I

Through such manuscripts, we glimpse how words could entertain and intrigue. Unusual etymologies inspired wordplay and riddles (see no. 26, VLQ 106, in its striking modern red binding). The skills of encoding, decoding, obscuring and interpreting were hallmarks of the intellectual elite of the ninth-century Carolingian schools. An almost-forgotten shorthand system of Roman antiquity, Tironian notes, was even revived (see no. 27, VLO 94, a tiny dictionary of this shorthand). Meanwhile, unusual alphabets were also a source of fascination, as an instance where Latin phrases were copied out in Greek characters suggests (see no. 24, BPL 67 F).

n essence, texts are collections of words. In the medieval period, when books were scarce and reading was a skill few possessed, words – the fundamental building blocks of a text – attracted keen attention from scholars. The primary reason for this interest is perhaps obvious: to read, particularly in a foreign tongue, one had to understand the vocabulary of the language. Special compilations were produced to introduce and teach such vocabularies. A good example is a ninth-century copy, almost square in format, of the Hermeneumata Pseudodositheana (no. 25, VGQ 7), a bilingual Latin-Greek textbook.

But textbooks like the Hermeneumata and other glossary manuscripts were more than simply points of access to vocabulary lists. Rather, they captured the infinite possibilities of language – both mundane and exotic. Medieval compilers made collections of vocabulary lists – often arranged by letter, but sometimes by theme or author – which could be browsed for various purposes. Multiple glossaries could even be copied into a single manuscript (see no. 24, BPL 67 F), creating a collection of linguistic curiosities. In such lists, definitions of common words were found alongside more exceptional ones – preserved, even treasured, on account of their rarity.

This interest in words was not, of course, confined to Latin and Greek, but also extended to vernacular languages, including German (nos 25 and 28; VGQ 7 and BPL 130, respectively) and Old English (no. 26, VLQ 106). Through close examination of manuscripts and their annotations, scholars can reconstruct aspects of medieval dialects and spelling conventions and can use such evidence to localise the producers of a text or its readers. It is no wonder that glossary manuscripts and other early texts in vernacular tongues have remained a subject of fascination for scholars, inspiring research from the early modern period to the present day (see nos 26 and 28; VLQ 106 and BPL 130, respectively).

Words and languages | manuscripts (back to front, left to right) BPL 67 F (no. 24), VLO 94 (no. 27, top), BPL 130 (28, bottom) — VLQ 106 (no. 26, top), VGQ 7 (no. 25, bottom)

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WORDS AND LANGUAGES

I

Through such manuscripts, we glimpse how words could entertain and intrigue. Unusual etymologies inspired wordplay and riddles (see no. 26, VLQ 106, in its striking modern red binding). The skills of encoding, decoding, obscuring and interpreting were hallmarks of the intellectual elite of the ninth-century Carolingian schools. An almost-forgotten shorthand system of Roman antiquity, Tironian notes, was even revived (see no. 27, VLO 94, a tiny dictionary of this shorthand). Meanwhile, unusual alphabets were also a source of fascination, as an instance where Latin phrases were copied out in Greek characters suggests (see no. 24, BPL 67 F).

n essence, texts are collections of words. In the medieval period, when books were scarce and reading was a skill few possessed, words – the fundamental building blocks of a text – attracted keen attention from scholars. The primary reason for this interest is perhaps obvious: to read, particularly in a foreign tongue, one had to understand the vocabulary of the language. Special compilations were produced to introduce and teach such vocabularies. A good example is a ninth-century copy, almost square in format, of the Hermeneumata Pseudodositheana (no. 25, VGQ 7), a bilingual Latin-Greek textbook.

But textbooks like the Hermeneumata and other glossary manuscripts were more than simply points of access to vocabulary lists. Rather, they captured the infinite possibilities of language – both mundane and exotic. Medieval compilers made collections of vocabulary lists – often arranged by letter, but sometimes by theme or author – which could be browsed for various purposes. Multiple glossaries could even be copied into a single manuscript (see no. 24, BPL 67 F), creating a collection of linguistic curiosities. In such lists, definitions of common words were found alongside more exceptional ones – preserved, even treasured, on account of their rarity.

This interest in words was not, of course, confined to Latin and Greek, but also extended to vernacular languages, including German (nos 25 and 28; VGQ 7 and BPL 130, respectively) and Old English (no. 26, VLQ 106). Through close examination of manuscripts and their annotations, scholars can reconstruct aspects of medieval dialects and spelling conventions and can use such evidence to localise the producers of a text or its readers. It is no wonder that glossary manuscripts and other early texts in vernacular tongues have remained a subject of fascination for scholars, inspiring research from the early modern period to the present day (see nos 26 and 28; VLQ 106 and BPL 130, respectively).

Words and languages | manuscripts (back to front, left to right) BPL 67 F (no. 24), VLO 94 (no. 27, top), BPL 130 (28, bottom) — VLQ 106 (no. 26, top), VGQ 7 (no. 25, bottom)

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34 | JACOB VA N M A ER L A N T, DER NATUR EN BLOEM E

34 | JACOB VA N M A ER L A N T, DER NATUR EN BLOEM E

Travelling scholars, travelling texts 35 | Adelard of Bath, Regulae abaci Fifteenth century, early – sca 1 The Regulae abaci is an elaborate fifteenth-century copy of a twelfth-century introductory text on the abacus, a calculation device. The manuscript was originally bound with another set of texts concerning mathematics and other topics, now located at the J. Paul Getty Museum in California. Their history shows how medieval manuscripts can become dispersed in different collections worldwide. Detective work allows us to reunite these two manuscripts, now preserved almost half a world apart.

M

The text opens with a decorated A for Adelardus (‘Adelard’ in Latin). About halfway down the first column, we find a smaller decorated initial in gold on a blue background. This marks the section where Adelard described the origins of the abacus, an invention he attributed to students of the Greek mathematician Pythagoras (c. 570–495 BC):

edieval scholars often travelled for their studies. Driven by a thirst for new ideas and the promise of access to new or rare texts, they sought out teachers who were specialists in their fields. Adelard of Bath (active early 1100s) is an example of an English scholar who went abroad for his education, first to schools in France, then further afield to Salerno in southern Italy and finally to Antioch in present-day Turkey. During his travels, Adelard studied with Arabic teachers and developed a particular interest in mathematics, notably translating an Arabic version of Euclid’s Elements (see no. 33) into Latin upon his return to England. This fifteenth-century French manuscript, SCA 1, contains a copy of Adelard’s Regulae abaci, an introductory text on the use of the abacus.

Fig. 1 > Copied in the early fifteenth century, this manuscript was decorated by the so-called ‘Virgil Master’, who was responsible for the opening miniature and the ornate border. The illuminated initial A represents the first word of the author’s name, Adelardus. SCA 1, fol. 1r (image 69%).

Pythagorici vero hoc opus compo / suerunt. ut ea, que magistro suo / pitagora docente audierunt. ocul(is) sub / iecta retinerent, et firmius custodirent. / Q(uo)d ip(s)i quidem mensam pithagoream ob / magistri sui reverentiam. sed post(er)i tame(n) / abacum dixerunt.

‘The Pythagoreans indeed composed this work [i.e., the abacus], so that what they had heard their teacher Pythagoras teaching they might retain, subject to the eyes and guarded more closely. They themselves [called] it the “Pythagorean table” out of reverence for their teacher, but later [scholars] called [it] the abacus.’

Despite its introductory content, SCA 1 is a high-quality production. Measuring nearly 40 cm in height, it is copied in a refined gothic cursive script with a rightward slant on sheets of creamy, evenly coloured parchment.

Any minor flaws in the parchment, such as small tears or slight discolourations, were strategically hidden in unobtrusive locations on the page (such as the inner margin, folio edge or centre of the quire gathering) to minimise their visual impact. On fol. 1r, the text block is framed by painted floral decoration touched with gold highlights, while alternating gold and blue majuscules on red and blue penwork backgrounds spell out the title of the text, REGULE ABACI.

In his account of the abacus’ origin, Adelard paid particular attention to its role as a memory device. By moving its various counters around columns representing hundreds, tens and ones, the user eased the mental strain required to carry out complex calculations.

The image on fol. 1r depicts a classroom scene, reinforcing Adelard’s description of the abacus’s use in

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Travelling scholars, travelling texts 35 | Adelard of Bath, Regulae abaci Fifteenth century, early – sca 1 The Regulae abaci is an elaborate fifteenth-century copy of a twelfth-century introductory text on the abacus, a calculation device. The manuscript was originally bound with another set of texts concerning mathematics and other topics, now located at the J. Paul Getty Museum in California. Their history shows how medieval manuscripts can become dispersed in different collections worldwide. Detective work allows us to reunite these two manuscripts, now preserved almost half a world apart.

M

The text opens with a decorated A for Adelardus (‘Adelard’ in Latin). About halfway down the first column, we find a smaller decorated initial in gold on a blue background. This marks the section where Adelard described the origins of the abacus, an invention he attributed to students of the Greek mathematician Pythagoras (c. 570–495 BC):

edieval scholars often travelled for their studies. Driven by a thirst for new ideas and the promise of access to new or rare texts, they sought out teachers who were specialists in their fields. Adelard of Bath (active early 1100s) is an example of an English scholar who went abroad for his education, first to schools in France, then further afield to Salerno in southern Italy and finally to Antioch in present-day Turkey. During his travels, Adelard studied with Arabic teachers and developed a particular interest in mathematics, notably translating an Arabic version of Euclid’s Elements (see no. 33) into Latin upon his return to England. This fifteenth-century French manuscript, SCA 1, contains a copy of Adelard’s Regulae abaci, an introductory text on the use of the abacus.

Fig. 1 > Copied in the early fifteenth century, this manuscript was decorated by the so-called ‘Virgil Master’, who was responsible for the opening miniature and the ornate border. The illuminated initial A represents the first word of the author’s name, Adelardus. SCA 1, fol. 1r (image 69%).

Pythagorici vero hoc opus compo / suerunt. ut ea, que magistro suo / pitagora docente audierunt. ocul(is) sub / iecta retinerent, et firmius custodirent. / Q(uo)d ip(s)i quidem mensam pithagoream ob / magistri sui reverentiam. sed post(er)i tame(n) / abacum dixerunt.

‘The Pythagoreans indeed composed this work [i.e., the abacus], so that what they had heard their teacher Pythagoras teaching they might retain, subject to the eyes and guarded more closely. They themselves [called] it the “Pythagorean table” out of reverence for their teacher, but later [scholars] called [it] the abacus.’

Despite its introductory content, SCA 1 is a high-quality production. Measuring nearly 40 cm in height, it is copied in a refined gothic cursive script with a rightward slant on sheets of creamy, evenly coloured parchment.

Any minor flaws in the parchment, such as small tears or slight discolourations, were strategically hidden in unobtrusive locations on the page (such as the inner margin, folio edge or centre of the quire gathering) to minimise their visual impact. On fol. 1r, the text block is framed by painted floral decoration touched with gold highlights, while alternating gold and blue majuscules on red and blue penwork backgrounds spell out the title of the text, REGULE ABACI.

In his account of the abacus’ origin, Adelard paid particular attention to its role as a memory device. By moving its various counters around columns representing hundreds, tens and ones, the user eased the mental strain required to carry out complex calculations.

The image on fol. 1r depicts a classroom scene, reinforcing Adelard’s description of the abacus’s use in

218

OLD TEXTS, NEW READERS

T

Prior to the Renaissance, it was relatively unusual in medieval Western Europe to know classical Greek.

Many of the works of Aristotle were translated into Latin in only the thirteenth century, and knowledge of Greek philosophy was often accessed indirectly, mediated through other sources. The fall of Constantinople in 1453 led to an influx of Greek manuscripts and Greek-speaking scholars to Western Europe, leading to the spread of texts which were commonplace in the Byzantine schoolroom (like the Greek Tragedies contained in no. 46, VGQ 6). Epictetus’ Enchiridion (no. 49, VGQ 54), an important handbook of Stoic philosophy, was translated from Greek into Latin in 1479.

hroughout the medieval period, the classical past remained a source of inspiration and authority. Through their avid reception of classical texts, medieval scholars were ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’, as the twelfth-century writer John of Salisbury (c. 1120–1180) would memorably record.

In twelfth-century Bologna, for example, scholars revived the study of Roman law with a passion. They compiled commentaries, which were then copied into manuscripts alongside the Roman legal texts, using an innovative page design (see no. 45, BPL 6 C).

Humanist scholars of the early Italian Renaissance prided themselves on rediscovering texts which had not been studied during the medieval period, trawling monastic libraries for Carolingian or even older copies of these works. To own a manuscript of one of these newly discovered works – such as Cicero’s Epistulae ad familiares (no. 47, VLF 49) – was to be in the vanguard of a scholarly revolution. Manuscripts copied by humanist scholars used a distinctive script and layout to signal their ‘modernity’, a style that attracted the interest of scholars far and wide. This is evident, for example, in a copy of the Letters of Pliny the Younger made by Rudolph Agricola, a pioneer of the Northern Renaissance (no. 48, VLQ 80).

The spread of Greek texts throughout Europe would also be aided by a new invention, the printing press.

However, the most recent item in this collection, part of a French translation of Homer’s Iliad made c. 1540, was still copied by hand. It is a deluxe manuscript with a binding stamped all over with the letter F, indicating its intended reader, King François I of France. This high-quality manuscript shows that the art of copying books continued to be valued nearly a century after the invention of the printing press.

Old texts, new readers | manuscripts (back to front, left to right) VGQ 6 (no. 46), MAR 57 (no. 50) — VGQ 54 (no. 49), BPL 6 C (no. 45, bottom), VLQ 80 (no. 48, top) — VLF 49 (no. 47)

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OLD TEXTS, NEW READERS

T

Prior to the Renaissance, it was relatively unusual in medieval Western Europe to know classical Greek.

Many of the works of Aristotle were translated into Latin in only the thirteenth century, and knowledge of Greek philosophy was often accessed indirectly, mediated through other sources. The fall of Constantinople in 1453 led to an influx of Greek manuscripts and Greek-speaking scholars to Western Europe, leading to the spread of texts which were commonplace in the Byzantine schoolroom (like the Greek Tragedies contained in no. 46, VGQ 6). Epictetus’ Enchiridion (no. 49, VGQ 54), an important handbook of Stoic philosophy, was translated from Greek into Latin in 1479.

hroughout the medieval period, the classical past remained a source of inspiration and authority. Through their avid reception of classical texts, medieval scholars were ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’, as the twelfth-century writer John of Salisbury (c. 1120–1180) would memorably record.

In twelfth-century Bologna, for example, scholars revived the study of Roman law with a passion. They compiled commentaries, which were then copied into manuscripts alongside the Roman legal texts, using an innovative page design (see no. 45, BPL 6 C).

Humanist scholars of the early Italian Renaissance prided themselves on rediscovering texts which had not been studied during the medieval period, trawling monastic libraries for Carolingian or even older copies of these works. To own a manuscript of one of these newly discovered works – such as Cicero’s Epistulae ad familiares (no. 47, VLF 49) – was to be in the vanguard of a scholarly revolution. Manuscripts copied by humanist scholars used a distinctive script and layout to signal their ‘modernity’, a style that attracted the interest of scholars far and wide. This is evident, for example, in a copy of the Letters of Pliny the Younger made by Rudolph Agricola, a pioneer of the Northern Renaissance (no. 48, VLQ 80).

The spread of Greek texts throughout Europe would also be aided by a new invention, the printing press.

However, the most recent item in this collection, part of a French translation of Homer’s Iliad made c. 1540, was still copied by hand. It is a deluxe manuscript with a binding stamped all over with the letter F, indicating its intended reader, King François I of France. This high-quality manuscript shows that the art of copying books continued to be valued nearly a century after the invention of the printing press.

Old texts, new readers | manuscripts (back to front, left to right) VGQ 6 (no. 46), MAR 57 (no. 50) — VGQ 54 (no. 49), BPL 6 C (no. 45, bottom), VLQ 80 (no. 48, top) — VLF 49 (no. 47)

263

48 | PLIN Y ’ S LET TER S , COPIED BY RU DOLPH AGR ICOL A

48 | PLIN Y ’ S LET TER S , COPIED BY RU DOLPH AGR ICOL A

324