A manuscript from the “Abbey of the Red Valley” – Rookloster, Rooklooster, Rouge-Cloître, Rougeval, or Rubea Vallis?

In the electronic version of the Bollandist preface to the “Life” of St Botulf or Botolph, we find the following words about manuscripts used:

Eamdem Vitam olim Ioannes Capgravius, omisso Prologo redactam in compendium, Legendæ suæ inseruerat: & ejus partem potiorem jam pridem habebamus ex duplici Ms. altero Canonicorum Regularium Rubeæ-vallis prope Bruxellas, cujus ecgraphum curaverat Rosweidus: altero Coloniensi, unde aliud Bollando transmiserat Grothusius etiam noster.

The same Life was inserted into his Legenda by John Capgrave, omitting the prologue, and reduced to a compendium: and we had long had the more important part of it from two manuscripts, one of the Canons Regular of Rubeæ-vallis near Brussels, of which made a copy: the other from Cologne, from which another was transmitted by our own Grothusius to Bolland.

Here is the printed version:

In fact I was quite unable to find out where this might be, until a kind commenter came to my assistance.  I thought that a quick post with the varying names of this place might help others, googling hopelessly.

The Latin name of the place is “Rubea Vallis”.  So this refers to the canons regular of “Rubra Vallis”, the “Red Valley.”   But I have also seen “Rubra Vallis.”  There is another place of this name in Picardy in France, so it is correctly qualified as “proper Bruxellas”, “the one near Brussels”.

In literature in French the place seems to be  known usually as “Rouge-Cloître.”  But “Rougeval” is also used sometimes – i.e. “red valley” -, again qualified with “Brussels” to distinguish from Rougeval in France.

In Dutch the place seems to be known usually as “Rooklooster,” although the Wikipedia article also  gives “Roodklooster” or even “Rood klooster”.

In German the place seems to be referred to as “Rookloster” –  no doubt under the influence of German “Klöster”.   Thus we see “Rookloster bei Brüssel” here. This spelling also makes its way into articles in other languages.

This was an Augustinian Priory near Brussels, which was closed in 1782 by the reforming Austrian Emperor Joseph II.  The manuscripts ended up in the Austrian National Library, but with a few bumps along the way.

In fact there is a fascinating website about Rooklooster and its manuscripts: The Rooklooster Register unveiled.  From this I learn the following:

Rooklooster boasted an important library and an active scriptorium as a result of the many authors, copiists, miniaturists and binders that worked in the priory.

And:

When emperor Joseph II, ruler of the Austrian Netherlands, decreed the suppression of the monasteries of most contemplative monastic orders in 1783-1874, the Rooklooster Register and many other manuscripts ended up in the Chambre Héraldique (“Heraldic Chamber”) of Brussels.

When French revolutionaries occupied the Netherlands in 1792/94, the chairman of the Chambre Héraldique, Ch. J. Beydaels de Zittaert (†1811), took the codices of his society with him as he roamed around the Northern Netherlands and Germany. After his peregrination, he eventually offered them to emperor Franz I of Austria in 1803. Parts of the manuscripts ended up in the so-called Familien-Fideikommiss-Bibliothek, the personal library of the emperor.

Being a bibliophile himself, the emperor believed he had a right to the book collection. After Franz’ death in 1835, the manuscripts remained in the possession of the imperial family.

The Rooklooster Register was kept in the library as reference number 9373. A year after the Imperial and Royal Court Library of Vienna was transformed into the National Library in 1920, the manuscripts formed a Series nova, in which the Rooklooster Register was given the book number 12694.

So the first place to look for a Rooklooster manuscript is in Austria.  But …. this last bit of the article holds a trap for the unwary.  The shelfmark for these manuscripts is NOT “12345”, or “Ser. n. 12345” but “SN12345”.  If you don’t know this, you will search manuscripta.at in vain.

So where is our manuscript, after all that?  It is SN12814, online here, where it has the shelfmark Wien, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek (ÖNB), Cod. Ser. n. 12814, and the page states:Vorbesitzer: Rooklooster (Rougecloître) bei Brüssel!

Apparently there is a digitised microfilm available.  As ever, you have to know the trick in order to download it.

Once downloaded, it is worrying to find that it has only 239 pages.  For the Legendiers Latins entry says that Botulf is on “ff.960r-961r”.  Luckily there  is a table of contents at the front, with the saints in alphabetical order:

So what do these numbers refer to?  Well, it looks as if there are two sets of folio numbers.  At the top of PDF page 25, folio 21r, is the numbering “928”.  Clearly this manuscript has been rebound.  And in due course, on folio 63r (page 67 in the PDF) we find the Vita Sancti Botulfi.

Sadly the microfilm is not going to do my eyes any good.  But… we got there!

Phew, that was hard work!

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Editing the Latin text of the “Life” of St Botolph? Do I want to?

A couple of days ago, I completed a draft translation into English of the “Life” of St Botolph by Folcard of St Bertin.  So far, so good.  I made the translation from the 1701 text in the Acta Sanctorum (=AASS) for June 17th (in “June”, vol. 3), which is “annotated by Daniel Papebroch” – some careful phrasing there, which implies that he did not edit the text.

Since then I have started to look at the Latin text, and compare it with the 1672 text in the Acta Sanctorum Ordinis S. Benedicti,(=AASSOSB) by D’Achery and  Mabillon.  This is supposed to be a copy of the MS. Paris BNF lat. 13092, originally from S. Evroul in Normandy (S. Ebrulfi Uticensis).  I have a PDF of a rotten b/w microfilm of this.

Also at my disposal is another manuscript, acquired when I was looking at St Nicholas: MS British Library Harley 3097.  This is a modern colour reproduction, also in PDF, and a pleasure to use.

In fact, as I was writing this, I went to look at the list of manuscripts and saw that MS Cambridge Corpus Christi College, Parker Library, MS. 161, was listed – and I happen to know that the Parker Library are all online.  It took little time to locate that either, so I have just acquired another witness to the text.

Ms. Cambridge CCC Parker 161, ff. 61v-62r (excerpt)

Four more manuscripts are listed in my notes, all in England:

  • another MS in Cambridge, this time MS St John’s College 209;
  • MS Lincoln Cathedral Library 7, which won’t be online, but might be possible to visit and photograph, and where I might conceivably have a connection through a relative;
  • MS London, Gray’s Inn Library 3, owned by the legal profession.
  • MS British Library Cotton Tiberius E. 1, which was a copy of John of Tynemouth’s collection of saints’ lives, but partly destroyed by fire.

Finally there is a manuscript in Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, fonds principale, ser. no. 12814, a very late 15th century.

The Bollandists used two more manuscripts, one from the “red valley” near Brussels, wherever that might be; and the other from Cologne.  These started at chapter 4, omitting the opening material which was mainly about St Adulph, Botolph’s cousin.  Where they might be now I do not know.  The Bollandist “Legendiers Latins” site, which replaces the BHLms, does not list them.

The English bias of the manuscripts is obvious, and unsurprising since the author, Folcard, was the abbot of Thorney Abbey in Cambridgeshire.

I have begun to collate the witnesses available to me.  This went reasonably well for the first three chapters, where the Bollandist editors only had Mabillon’s edition.

So in chapter 1, we had a single word attested differently, but only in the Harley MS.  In chapter 2 we had half a sentence missing from the Bollandist text, but found in all the others.  That looks bad: it can only be a copying mistake by the unknown Bollandist editor, who lost most of a line from the edition of d’Achery that he was copying.  Chapter 3 has one word different in the Bollandist text from all the other witnesses: presumably an emendation.

But chapter four, where the Bollandists have these MSS from the “red valley” and from Cologne… oh my!  There are slight word-order differences in various places, all of which make the text harder to understand.  Extra words are found, or not found.  The text is clearly somewhat different, although not enough to affect the meaning.  Exactly the same happens in chapter five.

The impression that I am getting is that these are not copyist variants on a common text.  This is a somewhat different recension of the text.

There are different recensions around.  There are two separate epitomes listed in the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina.  The two Bollandist manuscripts certainly differ, in that they omit chapters 1-3.  It is, I think, defensible that they represent an edition, made on the continent, and somewhat altered by the editor.  If so, the English text will be more authentic.  Unfortunately, without access to either of the Bollandist manuscripts, it is hard to tell whether some of this is just the carelessness of the Bollandist editor, or whether this hypothesis is correct.

It is hard work, making a collation.  Do I want to do this?  Do I want to simply leave these textual issues alone, and issue a translation of the AASS text?  After all, I set out to make a translation, not grapple with the textual history.

Decisions, decisions.

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Mabillon, the “Acta Sanctorum OSB”, and St Botolph

Dom Jean Mabillon OSB (d. 1707) is remembered today mainly as the inventor of paleography.  But he had a wider career, which is described very nicely at this link here.  An excerpt relating to the Acta Sanctorum Ordinis S. Benedicti:

In Saint-Germain, he was at last among congenial company, and results followed quickly. D’Achéry was the custodian of the Abbey’s well-stocked library. Every week, on Sundays after Vespers, there met in his room a group of men who were already scholars of reputation – Charles du Fresne, Sieur du Cange, Etienne Baluze, d’Herbelot, Cotelier, Renaudot, Fleury, Lamy, Pagi, and Louis-Sébastien Le Nain de Tillemont. Mabillon soon took a prominent place among them.

D’Achéry had asked for him to help him in his projected “Lives of the Benedictine Saints,” but the first task he undertook was editing the works of St. Bernard. This was published within three years, in 1667, and was recognized as a masterly accomplishment.

Meanwhile Mabillon had been arranging the materials already brought together by D’Achéry. The first volume of the “Acta Sanctorum OSB” was published in 1668, a second volume in 1669, and the third in 1672.

The Acta being thus completed, Mabillon made a “literary journey” to Flanders, in search of documents and materials for his work, and in 1675 he published the first of four volumes of “Vetera Analecta” in which he collected the fruit of his travels and some shorter works of historical importance. Mabillon had now joined the ranks of Renaissance philology, and was soldiering in its front lines; its lines of discovery.

He had however not left the Acta behind him. Faith and reason do not comfortably mix at any time, and the unquestionably devout Mabillon had been using Reason as a broom to tidy in the House of Faith. The very scholarly conscientiousness of his work on the Benedictine Saints had scandalized some of the other monks, and in 1677 a petition violently attacking it was presented to the general chapter of the congregation, demanding its suppression and an apology from its author. Mabillon defended himself with such humility, and such learning, that the opposition was silenced, and he was encouraged to continue.

There is room for confusion here.  The Bollandist Acta Sanctorum (abbreviated AASS) must be distinguished from this earlier work, the Acta Sanctorum OSB (abbreviated ASS OSB), the Acts of the Saints of the Order of St Benedict.

The volumes of the AS OSB can be found on Archive.org here.  The work is divided into “saecula” (“centuries”) but in fact each “saeculum” may cover a number of centuries.

“Saeculum III” covers 700-800 AD.[1]  This is the volume of interest to us, for St Botolph, and is online here.

The section on Botolph is on p.3, after the interminable preface, p117 of the PDF.  The Life is followed on p.7 (PDF p.121) by the very short “Translatio”, or account of the transfer of the saint’s bones elsewhere after his death.

The prefatory remarks begin with:

Scripta ab auctore subpari, ut videtur ex num 10. Ex MS Cod. Monasterii Uticensis.

Written by an inferior author, as appears from number 10. From the MS Cod. of the Monastery of Utica.

We are quickly told that this manuscript:

ex membranis Coenobii Uticensis seu S. Ebrulfi in Neustria hodierna: quibus in membranis haec Vita in novem lectiones, Responsoriis totidem adhibitus, pro more officii Ecclestiastici distributa legitur.

from a parchment manuscript of the Utica Monastery or Monastery of St. Ebrulsus in modern Neustria: in which ms this Life is read in nine lessons, with the same number of responses, distributed according to the custom of the ecclesiastical office.

I found incredible difficulty in working out which monastery this was, as I read “Ebrulsi” with the long-S, rather than Ebrulfi.  But it seems to be St. Evroul in Normandy, since a certain “Ebrulsi abbas Robertus le Tellier,” i.e. Robert le Tellier, is attested as abbot in this link, who was abbot of St Evroul.  The Wikipedia link gives the Latin name as “Ebrulphus Uticensis,” rather than the “Ebrulsus Uticensis” that I had presumed – drat the long-s!  Likewise it took some effort to find that references to “St. Ebrulf at Utica in Normandy”, such as this link.

Likewise I could find no reference to an “Utica” in Normandy, until I find this link,[2], which on p.72 has this entry:

Uticum, Utica: Ouche, abbaye en Normandie, dans le pays d’Hyesmois, voyez le titre S. Evroul, 1 partie.

The “pays d’Ouche” is a region of Normandy, with S. Evroult in one corner.

It is a reasonable first guess that a manuscript in a French abbey would likely end up in the French National Library, especially if it was being used in 1700 by the Maurist monk Jean Mabillon, based at their headquarters at St Germain-des-Prés in Paris. Indeed, according to Wikipedia, the abbey of S. Evroul attached itself to the congregation of St Maur.

I find that the French national library does indeed contain a manuscript, Paris BNF lat. 13092, 2, ff.110r-113v, 12th century.  This manuscript is online here, in a not-very-good microfilm scan.  Interestingly two letters in French, one dated 1712, are bound into the manuscript, just before the text of St Botolph.  Sadly I cannot quite read these.

And the first page of the text has written over the top, “ex mon(aste)rio S. Ebrulsi in Normannia” (not quite sure of every letter).

So this indeed our manuscript, the MS. Ebrulphus Uticensis, from which Mabillon printed the text.  Rather a pity that the online image is so low-resolution, tho.

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  1. [1]d’Achery, Luc, and Jean Mabillon, Acta sanctorum Ordinis S. Benedicti, vol. 3: Saeculum III: quod est ab anno Christi DCC ad DCCC, Paris: Lutetiae Parisiorum, apud Carolum Savreux, 1672.
  2. [2]Adrien Baillet, Les vies des saints … avec l’histoire de leur culte, vol. 10 (1739)

Back to St Botolph – problems and sources for his Life (BHL 1428)

Back in April 2021, I got interested in the “Life” of the anglosaxon saint, St. Botolph, which is BHL 1428 in the standard list/repertory of Latin hagiographical texts, the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina.  I even gathered the materials to translate his “Life” here.  But I didn’t do anything more about it, because I learned that someone was preparing a critical edition of the text, and had already made a draft translation.

However this week I got bored, and decided that I don’t feel like waiting.  So I have started to prepare a translation of that Life, from the Bollandist text.  It’s only 11 chapters, so not very long, and the Latin is fairly simple.  I’ll post it here when it’s done.

The Bollandist editor, Daniel Papebroch, adds a few notes, some of which are text critical.  He states that his text is that of Mabillon, who published the Acta Sanctorum OSB in 1672,[1] plus two manuscripts.  He also refers to a “Codex Uticensis,” whatever that may be – I hardly think Cato of Utica was involved here!  So there is room for research.

Something that interests me is the story of the transfer (“translatio”) of Botolph’s remains from his ruined monastery at “Ikanho” – probably Iken in Suffolk – to Burgh (or possibly Grundisburgh) in Suffolk, where they remained for fifty years, until they were transferred to various places, including the great abbey at Bury St Edmunds.  I looked at the “Translatio” text (BHL 1431) but it doesn’t include this information.  So where does it come from?  Another point to research.  [Update: Oops – I did that last time.]

Something that is always worthwhile, in these circumstances, is an intensive Google search using the BHL number.  This I did yesterday, and it brought up something that I had always wondered about.

For patristics, we have the CPL and CPG volumes, listing authors and works.  For hagiography we have the BHL and BHG volumes.  But I never knew that a similar set of volumes existed for medieval texts.  And it does, in 11 volumes: the Repertorium Fontium Historiae Medii Aevi, published in Italy from 1952 down to our own time.  I was able to find online a copy of volume 4, which covers Folcard, the author of the Life.

I don’t know if there is a standard abbreviation for this – RFHMA? – but it gives some bibliography on p.479.  Some more stuff in there to look into.

The Google search gave me 5 manuscripts.  I imagine the BHLms site would give some as well, but this seems to have gone, according to the Bollandist website, replaced by something at the IRHT called Légendiers Latins.  I’ll have to look into this as well.

So… a few nice things to chase up there!  Expect some more posts soon!

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  1. [1]“Saeculum” (i.e.  volume) III, the saints from 700-800 AD, p.4-7. Online here.

Identifying “an ancient homily for Holy Saturday”, on the Harrowing of Hell

Today is Easter Saturday.  I happened to see an interesting tweet from none other than Eduard Hapsburg, the Hungarian ambassador to the Vatican, here.

The link to the English translation is here.

This text is apparently the second reading for Easter Saturday in the Roman Catholic Church – not sure how I would verify that – but there is often no reference to the source.

Fortunately on this site I found a text: “PG 43, 439, 451, 462-463”.  This is the edition of the Greek text used for the homily.  The material in the reading is not the complete homily, but rather extracts.

Looking up this reference to the Patrologia Graeca, I find that these extracts are all taken from a homily attributed by the editor to Epiphanius of Salamis.

A look in the Clavis Patrum Graecorum shows that the text is listed there.  It’s CPG 3768, “Homilia in divini corporis sepulturam”; or, at more length in the Patrologia Graeca (=PG), “Epiphanii episcopi Cypri oratio in divini corporis sepulturam Domini et Servatoris nostri Jesu Christi, et in Josephum qui fuit ab Arimathaea, et in Domini in infernum descensum, post salutarem passionem admirabiliter factum. Sancto et magno Sabbato.”

The Greek text of the complete homily is printed in PG volume 43, columns 439-464, with a Latin translation.  As usual with the PG, this is a reprint of an older text, in this case the text of Petau (Paris, 1622).  A more modern edition of the Greek exists, by Dindorf, Epiphanii episcopi Constantiae opera, Leipzig (1859-62), vol. 4, part 2 (here); Pseudo-Epiphanii homiliae, p.9-29, and Annotationes p.90-101.  But this is not a critical edition: merely the Petau text, with improvements from a comparison with the 9th century Escorial manuscript.

But other ancient versions of the text also exist.  The text exists in Syriac, Coptic, Armenian, Georgian and Arabic; and in two different Old Slavonic versions.  The latter was edited, with parallel Greek, and a French translation of the Old Slavonic, by A. Vaillant, “L’homélie d’Épiphane sur l’ensevellissement du Christ, Texte vieux-slave,Texte grec et traduction française,” Radovi Staroslavenskog instituta 3 (Zagreb, 1958), pp.7-101, and is online at the journal website here and at Alin Suciu’s blog here.

The text is not by the very solid Epiphanius of Salamis, of course.  Vaillant identifies a later Archbishop of Cyprus, also named Epiphanius, who attended the 6th council of Trullo in 691, who is the most likely author.  The style of the work is witty, full of word-play, and characteristically Byzantine.  The content derives from the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, composed in 424-5, in which Jesus, after his death and before his resurrection descends into hell, liberates the righteous, and rescues Adam and Eve.

Update: A kind correspondent has pointed me to the website of the Holy Cross Monastery where a complete English translation of the homily may be found here.  This states that it has been translated from the Greek text printed by Vaillant.

Vaillant’s Greek text is provided on facing pages only as a help to the Old Slavonic text.  The notes are concerned with additions and omissions in the Slavonic text, or with biblical passages.  No Greek apparatus is provided.  Vaillant himself does not indicate the source of his Greek text.

I compared the first page of Vaillant’s Greek with Dindorf’s text and with the PG text.  Vaillant follows the capitalisation, punctuation and sentence division, and the opening title of the PG fairly exactly.  I saw only one definite difference between Vaillant and both others, and this semed to me likely to be a typo or emendation.  From this limited comparison, I would infer that Vaillant mainly reprinted the standard PG text.

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How do hagiographical texts get composed? Folcard tells us

I seem to be doing a lot of work on hagiographical texts at the moment, most recently with Ethiopian saints.  This is because these texts are neglected.  They are insanely neglected, for the most part.  So even someone like me, can contribute something.

Hagiographical texts are not history, and tend to accumulate anecdotes over time.  They are more like folk story, although they may often contain genuine information; or be complete invention.  They are story, inspiring story, not documentation.

The medieval “Life” of St Botolph (BHL 1428), about an Anglo-Saxon saint from East Anglia, whom I have mentioned before, is prefixed in two of the manuscripts by a dedicatory letter composed by its author, a certain Folcard of St Bertin.  He came over with the Norman conquest, and was abbot of Thorney Abbey in Cambridgeshire, which possessed some of the relics of St Botolph.  This letter is interesting.  I’ll give the Latin first, then a translation.

Desiderantissimo Patri et Domino suo, et aeque reverentissimo Praesuli, Uualcelino, monachorum minimus, frater Fulcardus, obsequia totius devotionis.

Nullo praecedente vitae merito, sed e contra, proh dolor! peccatis meis agentibus, sub specie pastoralis curae in coenobium Thornense incidi, ibique venustate illustrissimae habitationis captus, ipsa eadem loci delectatione inhaesi. Res diversae occurrebant quae nolentem iniquitatis animum ad affectum sui inclinabant; in primis, quia titulus ejusdem loci Beatae Dei Genitrici Mariae potissimum ascribitur, cui quia Mater misericordiae dinoscitur lapsis resurgere volentibus, sub optentu veniae prior et principalis respectus habetur. Deinde solitudo illa, sanctae religionis amica, nulli incuriae pervia, silvisque amoenissimis et continuis paludibus atque interfluentibus aquis irrigua; praeterea desiderio et affectu devotissimi Deo Praesulis Adeluuoldi illustrata, et tot Sanctorum pignoribus pio ipsius studio ditata; in qua, ut aiunt, et satis credi potest, cursum praesentis vitae finire delegerit in conversatione theorica. His enim infirmarum rerum causis alligatus sum, ut asinus vel bos ad praesepe Domini; apud quem, ut jumentum factus, semper adhaerere, donec transeat iniquitas ex ejus gratia, proposui.

Videns autem Sanctos in eadem basilica pausantes, nulla scriptorum memoria commendatos, indignatus antiquitati, quae de eis addiscere potui, tuis auribus primum offerre volui, ne rusticior sermo, nullo suffultus defensore, derisioni expositus, aemulorum cachinnum potius optineret quam auditum. Reperta sunt tamen quaedam in veteribus libris vitiose descripta, quaedam ab ipso praecipuo praesule in privilegiis ejusdem coenobii sunt breviter annotata, caetera ex relatione veterum, ut ab antiquioribus sunt, eis exhibita. Omnia tamen ex devotione cordis tibi, eximie pater, tuoque examini discutienda, exhibeo, ut si quis aemulus caninas erexerit cristas labori nostro, humilitatis nostrae opusculum tuae auctoritatis paterna contegat defensio.

To his most beloved Father and Lord, and likewise most reverend Bishop, Walkelin,[1] the least of monks, Brother Folcard,[2] offers the service of all devotion.

Without any previous merit in life, but on the contrary, alas! while living in my sins, I found myself, under the appearance of pastoral care, placed in the monastery of Thorney. There, captivated by the loveliness of its most distinguished building, I held fast to the very delight of that place.  Various things happened which inclined my unwilling and sinful mind to love it; first of all, because the title of the same place is most especially ascribed to the Blessed Mary, the Mother of God, to whom, because she is known as the Mother of Mercy, the first and foremost application is made by those who have fallen and wish to be restored during a request for pardon.  Next, that solitude, the beloved of holy religion, impervious to careless, and watered by the most pleasant woodlands, continuous marshes, and flowing streams.  Moreover, it was ennobled by the desire and devotion of the most devout Bishop of God, Aethelwold,[3] and enriched by his pious effort with so many relics of the Saints; among whom, as they say, and it is quite believable, he chose to end the course of his present life in godly society.  For I was tied there by these rather earthly reasons, like an ass or an ox to the Lord’s manger, to whom, having been made his donkey, I have resolved to stick, always, until my sins pass away through His grace.

But seeing the Saints resting in the same basilica, commended by no written record, and jealous for antiquity, I wanted to offer those things that I was able to learn about them to your ears first, lest an unlearned discourse, unsupported by any defender, exposed to mockery, should be subject of laughter of rivals rather than get a hearing.  Yet certain things have been found in old books, albeit badly written, and some were briefly recorded by the principal bishop himself among the privileges of the same monastery. The rest were gathered from the narration of the older monks, as set forth by those older still.  All these things, however, I present to you, distinguished Father, out of the devotion of my heart and for your judgment, so that, if any rival should raise his dog-like hackles against our effort, then the paternal shield of your authority may cover the little work of my humility.

Folcard was inspired to write the Lives of the saints venerated at Thorney Abbey because he saw that they were there, and could find no account of them.  The materials that he used were:

  1. Whatever he could find in “old books”.
  2. Notes among the “privileges” of the abbey – i.e. its charters and other documents.
  3. Stories told to him by the older monks, as being handed down from their predecessors.

Out of this, he composed his Life of St Botolph.

The entrance to the remains of Thorney Abbey. Part of the nave of the abbey church was converted into a parish church, the rest was demolished.
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  1. [1]Lit. Walcelinus.  Norman bishop of Winchester after the conquest.  See R. Browett, “The Fate of Anglo-Saxon Saints after the Norman Conquest of England: St Æthelwold of Winchester as a Case Study”, in: History 101, no. 2 (345) (2016), pp.183-200. JSTOR: “Importantly, Folcard’s text was dedicated to Walkelin. In manuscripts, the Translatio is prefaced by his dedicatory letter, and Folcard’s Life of St Botulph. The letter survives in two manuscripts: the century London, BL, Harley 3097, fos 61b-64b, and the thirteenth century London, BL, Cotton Tiberius D III, fos 223b-225b.”
  2. [2]Abbot of Thorney Abbey.
  3. [3]Founder of Thorney Abbey.

The Encyclopaedia Aethiopica and the “Nine Saints”

A kind colleague sent me the article on Abba Garima from the Encyclopaedia Aethiopica.  This article, by Denis Nosnitsin, was really very good, very detailed, and well referenced.  Perfect for the newcomer interested in the subject.

This led me to search out copies of the Encyclopaedia Aethiopica.  It’s in five volumes, published in Hamburg between 2003 and 2010, although I was only able to locate four of the volumes.  The Wikipedia article for the Encyclopedia describes it as a “basic encyclopedia”, which it is not.  The same article suggests that the transcription system used is different to that generally in use, which, if so, is a curse.

Garima was one of the “Nine Saints”, I knew.  So I thought that I would look up the article on these gentlemen, and see what it said.  Had their hagiographical “Lives” even been printed, I wondered?

The article was duly located, in volume 3, and I began to read.  Again I found a detailed, well-referenced piece of work, which answered my question, and many more.

Everybody knows that Axum was evangelised in the 4th century after a group of Greek sailors were shipwrecked on the coast of Ethiopia.  But the Nine Saints belong to the 5-6th century, and formed a second wave of evangelisation of the country.  They are identified as “Roman”, and they also came from the Byzantine empire, according to Ethiopian hagiography.  They are, with the date of publication of the text:

  • Alef – 19-20th c., unpublished at the time.
  • Aftse – a early now lost text, edited by Rossini, “La leggenda di Abba Afse in Etiopia”, Melanges syriens offerts à M. R. Dussaud, (1939), p.151-6; and a different modern one, ed. Schneider, “Les Actes d’Abba Afse de Yeha”, AE 13 (1985), 105-18; Sergew Hable Sellasse, “New Historical Elements in the ‘Gadla Afse'”, JSS 9.1 (1964), pp. 200-03.
  • Aragawi  – 16th c., edited Guidi, “Il Gadla Aragawi”, RRALm ser. 5a, 2 (1896), 54-96; van den Oudenrijn (ed., tr.), La vie de saint Mikael Aragawi (1939)
  • Garima (aka Isaac or Yeshaq) – 15th c., edited Rossini 1897, which we have been looking at in previous posts.
  • Guba – 19-20th c., unpublished at the time.
  • Liqanos (i.e. Lucianos) – 19-20th c., unpublished at the time.
  • Pantalewon (a Greek name) – 14th c., edited Rossini, Acta Yared et Pantalewon (1904), reprinted CSCO 26, 27 (SAe 9, 10), 1961.  Includes Latin translation.
  • Tsahma – 19-20th c., unpublished at the time.
  • Yemata – 19-20th c., unpublished at the time.

I noted in the bibliography a publication by Bruno Ducati (tr.), La grande impresa di Amda Sion re d’Etiopia…. I miracoli di Abba Garima omelia del XV secolo, Milano (1939), 97-154.  This sounds like it might contain a translation of Rossini’s Homily on Garima.

So their Vitae or gadlat are not ancient, and date to the 14th century onwards.  At the time of printing of the Encyclopedia Aethiopica, the unpublished texts were in preparation, ed. Antonella Brita, who wrote this article in the EA.  I have not looked to see if these have appeared anywhere, but a cursory search suggests not.

That’s a fine haul of information for those of us looking for texts and translations.

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Experiments with Amharic and technology (part 5)

Eighteen months ago, purely for fun, I made my first attempt at seeing whether AI could produce an English translation of a text in Ethiopic, the  otherwise untranslated Homily of Yohannan, bishop of Axum, on Abba Garima, printed by Rossini.  It could not.  A week or so back, I tried again and got a load of rather decent looking results, and I’ve been working on this since.  The output from DeepSeek aligned quite well with Rossini’s summary

Last week I accidentally learned that there was a French translation by Gerard Colin.[1]  I got hold of that on Friday, and I have compared the first two paragraphs with the AI-generated output from the Ge`ez text.

The results are not positive.  The DeepSeek output is really not good enough.  Here’s Rossini’s text, followed by Colin’s French.  I’ve put the full-stops in red.  Ge`ez uses word separators, which I have kept.

ወይቤ ስምፁ ወልብዉ ኦአኀውየ፡ ፍቁራንየ ዘእነግረክሙ ርኢኩ ብእሲተ እንዘ ይዘብጥዋ ዕራቃ ፡ወእንዘ ይፀርፉ ላዕሌሃ ወላዕለ እግዝእትነ ማርያም እንዘ ይብሉ፡ በእንተ ወልዳ ክርስቶስ እምብእሲት፡ ኪያሁ ኢተወልደ ይብሉ እላ ኢየአምኑ በክርስቶስ ወኮንኩ እንዘ እረውጽ ወአኀዝኩ ፡እስዐም ታሕተ እገሪሃ ለይእቲ ብእሲት እንዘ ትብል እወ በዝ አንቀጽ ወፅአ ንጉሠ ሰማያት ወምድር ወሶበ ትብል ከመዝ ወረደ ላዕሌየ አስራበ መንፈስ ቅዱስ

Ecoutez et méditez, mes frères bien-aimés, ce que je vais vous raconter. J’ai vu une femme, stérile, que l’on fustigeait et injuriait ainsi que Notre Dame Marie, en parlant à propos du Fils de celle-ci, le Christ. « Il n’est pas né d’une femme », disaient ceux qui ne croyaient pas au Christ. Je me mis à courir et entrepris d’embrasser les pieds de cette femme en disant : « Oui, par cette porte est sorti le roi des deux et de la terre ! » Quand j’eus parlé ainsi, les trombes de l’Esprit Saint descen­dirent sur moi.

A quick run of Google Translate on Colin gives this:

Listen and meditate, my beloved brothers, on what I am about to tell you. I saw a barren woman being flogged and insulted, along with Our Lady Mary, speaking of her Son, Christ. “He was not born of woman,” said those who did not believe in Christ. I ran and began to embrace the woman’s feet, saying, “Yes, through this gate has come out the king of heaven and of the earth!” When I had spoken these words, the cloudbursts of the Holy Spirit descended upon me.

Now here’s the Deepseek output.  I’ve highlighted important differences:

Hear and understand, O my beloved brethren, what I declare to you. I saw a woman while they were stoning her and mocking her, and also mocking our Lady Mary, saying concerning her Son Christ, ‘He was not born of a woman.’ These said, ‘We do not believe in Christ.’ And I stood trembling and took refuge beneath the feet of that woman as she said, ‘Yes, by this decree, the King of Heaven and Earth shall come forth.’ And when she spoke thus, the Holy Spirit descended upon me fourteenfold.

These are not small differences.  They obscure what the text is actually saying.  And as ever with AI, the output is not stable.  That was the output a week ago.  Today the same text produced this:

And he said: Listen and understand, O my beloved brothers, what I will tell you.  I saw a woman being accused of adultery, and while they were judging her, they also judged our Lady Mary, saying concerning her Son, Christ: “He was not born of a woman’s womb.” Those who say this do not believe in Christ. And as I stood there, I became angry and struck the ground beneath that woman’s feet while she was saying, “Yes, by this argument, let the King of Heaven and Earth come forth!” And when she spoke thus, the Holy Spirit descended upon me.

These are not small differences either.  I did venture to ask DeepSeek for details, and the grammar and meaning of individual words.  This output also varied uncomfortably.  Which basically means that it is not useful.

In conclusion, AI is still not good enough to translate Ge`ez.

Perhaps I shall come back to this in a year, and see how things look then.

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  1. [1]Gérard Colin, Saints Fondateurs du Christianisme Éthiopien: Frumentius, Garimā, Takla-Hāymānot, Ēwostātēwos, Paris: Les Belles Lettres (2017), pp.6-37

Looking for Ethiopian Studies bibliography, with particular reference to hagiographical literature

I have an AI output with an English translation of the Ge`ez – Classical Ethiopian – text of the 15th century “Life” of Abba Garima by Yohannan.  It ‘feels’ more or less right.  But I don’t know any Ethiopian, and I cannot even read the language, so it’s impossible to say.

Today I scanned the Italian introduction, summary, and notes by Carlo Conti Rossini, the editor of the “Life”.  I’ve run that through Google Translate, and so I have enough to write some words about the text. The summary of the “Life” (a “gadl” in Ethiopic) seems to agree with the AI output, which is encouraging.

But of course Rossini was writing in the 1890s, which is a very long time ago.  It came to me that there must have been work on this text since then.  But where might I find this?  A google search gives little.  Knowing nothing about Ethiopian studies, I have spent some time today looking for bibliography.  This is what I found, rightly or wrongly.

  • Jon Abbink, “Ethiopian Society and History: A Bibliography of Ethiopian Studies, 1957-1990”, Leiden: African Studies Centre (1990).  Online here.
  • Jon Abbink, “Eritreo-Ethiopian studies in society and history:1960-1995”.  Leiden: African Studies Centre (2022).  Online here.

Thank heavens for the Leiden African Studies Centre!  Abbink writes:

The period before 1957 is relatively well covered in general bibliographies like the ones by R. Jones (see below item 39), H.W. Lockot (German language publications; item 48), and now, Paulos Milkias, item.58.

I.e.

39.  Jones, R.
1958    Ethiopia. In: Africa Bibliography Series, North East Africa, General/Ethnography/Sociology/Linguistics, pp. 19-39.
London: International African Institute.

48.  Lockot, H. W.
1982    Bibliographia Aethiopica. Die äthiopienkundliche Literatur des deutschsprachigen Raums.
Wiesbaden: Steiner, 441 p.

58. Paulos Milkias
1989    Ethiopia: a Comprehensive Bibliography.
Boston: O.K. Hall, 710 p

These I have not consulted.  Of course our interest is hagiographical literature.

Section 23 of Abbink is “Christian and Hagiographical Literature”, on p.281.  From this I learned of the existence of this:

  • G.W.B. Huntingford, “Saints of Mediaeval Ethiopia”, in: Abba Salama 10 (1979) p.257-341.  “Abba Salama” turns out to be “Abba Salama: A Review of the Association of Ethio-Hellenic Studies”.  It seems to be inaccessible, however.  But there are many references to it in relevant sources, such as:
  • Steven Kaplan, “Hagiographies and the History of Medieval Ethiopia”, in: History in Africa 8 (1981), pp. 107-123.  (JSTOR)  Summary, references here.  This looks useful.
  • G. Lusini, “A companion to Medieval Ethiopia and Eritrea”, in: S. Kelly, A Companion to Medieval Ethiopia and Eritrea, Brill (2020), pp.194-216.  This seems tremendously useful, and a PDF copy has strayed online here.

From the last I learned of the existence of a French translation of the “Life” of Abba Garima!

  • Gérard Colin, Saints Fondateurs du Christianisme Éthiopien: Frumentius, Garimā, Takla-Hāymānot, Ēwostātēwos, Paris: Les Belles Lettres (2017), pp.6-37.  This is modestly priced – 22 euros – unusually.

This, of course, I must consult if possible.  A library near me has a copy, so I have spent some time jumping through hoops in order to regain access to the premises.  The book is off-site, apparently, so I may have to wait a couple of days to set eyes on it.

Update April 16, 2025.

Another extremely useful item is the Encyclopedia Aethiopica.  This is edited in 5 volumes by Siegbert Uhlig, and is up-to-date.  The scope of the work means that it is fairly basic, but that is still far more than we get from anywhere else.

In Hamburg there is a project to create a Clavis – a numbered list – of Ethiopian literature.  This is being led by Alessandro Bausi, and the TraCES project page is here.  The beta version of the Clavis is actually offline at the moment however.  A collection of digital versions of Ethiopic texts is also being created.

Also in Hamburg Dr Aaron Butts has got funding for some serious work on the Nine Saints.  The “BeInf – Beyond Influence” project page is here.

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The Modern Origins of the “Easter Bunny”

The Easter bunny is not an ancient thing.  Like most of our traditions, it is rather modern in origin.  Our own Easter bunny is a chocolate item, mass-produced as part of the commercial Easter.  The concept of the “Easter bunny” who brings the chocolate Easter eggs is probably not much older.  It arises in the late 19th century and derives from a German folk story, the “Easter hare” or Osterhäse, who does much the same thing.  This Osterhäse is first recorded in 1682.[1]

If you read social media, you will quickly come across claims that the Easter bunny, and Easter itself, is in fact derived from incredibly ancient pagan ideas.  Jacob Grimm in the early 19th century put forward the idea of a supposed goddess Ostara, and the contemporary custom of the Osterhäse soon became attached to this theory.  But no evidence that the Osterhäse is so old is known.  Indeed there is no evidence of it before 1682.

The older traditions in Germany were somewhat different to modern ideas.  In a museum in Munich in Germany there are physical remains of the Osterhäse legend.  The Osterhäse is primarily non-edible; early edible examples are of pastry.  Then there are moulds for chocolate from 1890 onwards, probably brought back home under American influence.  The museum website states:

In the 19th century, the holiday hares were often made of cardboard, wood or fabric. Some had removable heads, inside of which small sweet treats were hidden — forerunners of present-day chocolate rabbits. Toward the end of that century, papier-mâché became the preferred material among bunny-makers. The realistic animals were then dressed in human apparel and set in common situations. The Hasenschule (hare school), for example, contains miniature classrooms peopled with bunnies and tiny egg factories. Mechanical bunnies, rare clockwork rabbits and hares made from tin and wood highlight the museum’s turn-of-the-century offerings. …

The Easter icon also assumes more palatable forms. Though early edible bunnies often consisted of pastry dough with a hard-boiled egg placed in the “stomach,” this hearty hare died a natural death (though the practice has recently been revived by some of Munich’s bakeries,) with the advent of chocolate bunnies. One of the earliest rabbit tin forms on view at the ZAM dates from 1890. Unique porcelain bunny molds, many in the shape of egg cups, stem from the potters of Thuringia, craftsmen who left their mark on the turn-of-the-century chocolate Osterhase.

It is a pity that the site gives no sources.  But again there seems nothing unlikely about any of this.

Our own Easter bunny is a modern development of the Osterhäse.  It is a modern American invention of the late 19th century.  As with so many American innovations, the author packaged up a somewhat older, less definite folk custom into something suitable for mass production and mass promotion.  I thought that it might be interesting to track down whatever information there might be about this event.

The story of the Easter bunny starts in the late 19th century in the United States of America, among German-speaking settlers in Pennsylvania.  These settlers brought with them this tradition of the Osterhäse, who brought the edible Easter eggs. He was often represented in in the shape of children’s toys, made out of various materials, or even made of cake or pastry.  [2]  But this old-time Osterhäse did not survive the transition to America.  There were few hares in Pennsylvania, or so the Somerset Herald averred in 1900.  Retellings of German folk-stories therefore replaced him with an “Easter Rabbit”, carrying out much the same job in children’s stories.

Our first mention of such an “Easter rabbit” is in 1883.  There we learn that the Easter Rabbit is a novelty.  In the Lancaster Daily Intelligencer of March 24, 1883, p.2, a Pennsylvania newspaper, we find, in an article about Easter:

In all ages the festival has been marked by many singular ceremonies, customs and popular sports. Most of these have fallen into disuse in this country, except the religious observances in the churches, the feasting upon eggs at home, and the presentation to friends of prettily colored or elaborately engraved eggs. Children are provided with all the colored eggs they want, and amuse themselves by testing the strength of the shells by striking the smaller ends of the eggs together, it being a rule among the youngsters that the egg that is broken falls a prize to the one that breaks it. Besides the natural eggs that play such a prominent part in Easter feasting, the confectioners reap a rich harvest in the manufacture and sale of candy eggs of various kinds and colors. Of late years, the rabbit appears as an innovation in the Easter customs, and to “bunny” is attributed the laying of the many beautiful eggs which fill the nests that good little boys and girls are apt to find on Easter morning. Some of these little rabbits are real works of art and look very natural indeed.

It isn’t clear whether this is an edible rabbit, but the chocolate eggs are real enough.

There are other references to the “Easter rabbit” in the preceding decade, including a poem in 1886.  But all those found in Google Books are descriptions of German folk tales, rather than modern customs.  It seems likely that these are simply translations of German material about the Osterhäse.

In “Wide Awake” 34 (1892), p.431 we read an interesting story of a German custom that did NOT reach us.  This is “the Easter Tree.”  The article refers to edible rabbits or hares – or sometimes lambs – made out of cake:

The Easter-tree is a delightful feature of the Easter season in Germany. It is not so universal as the Christmas-tree; for in Germany there is no household so poor but the Christmas-tree finds a place in it, even though its branches may spread scarcely wider than the flowers of a good-sized bouquet. The Easter-tree is more common in Northeastern Germany than elsewhere, and the tree-frolic is something all young people ought to know about.

For an Easter party, at which the frolic is to take place, a large tree, set upon a good-sized table, stands in the center of the room. The larger the room the better. The tree is hung with Oster Eier (Easter eggs) of every color and size. During the year the children gather many varieties of birds’ eggs and save them for decorating the Easter-tree. Hens’, geese and turkeys’eggs are also colored by boiling them in solutions of dye-stuffs — a strong one to make the deep colors, a weak one for the more delicate shades.

Loops of bright-colored ribbons, always of contrasting shades, are pasted upon the eggs to hang them by, tip downwards. Tinsel ornaments and pendants; curious sugar people ; cake animals, especially lambs and rabbits; Easter hens, and chickens; and dainty chocolate and sugar confections of every conceivable variety are fastened to the boughs, while underneath, upon the table or pedestal, sitting in special state, the wonderful Easter rabbit, or sometimes the Easter lamb, presides over the gifts and favors concealed in the Oster Hase‘s nest.

Hunting the Oster Hase‘s (Easter rabbit’s) nest is usually the great event of Easter morning for German children. The nest is sometimes made of small twigs and greens braided together in proper shape; or, if designed for the house, a pretty nest-shaped basket is lined with some kind of bright-colored material, and prettily decorated upon the outside with nuts and confections, and also with tinsel ornaments. Inside, the Easter eggs, gifts and favors are placed, and above these, instead of the conventional mother-hen, sits the Easter rabbit, generally made of cake or sugar.

Great secrecy attends the making of the nest by the older members of the family. When completed it is hidden either in the garden or house, and in the early morning the children, have a grand frolic “ hunting the Easter Hase’s nest.”…

There was evidently a lot of variation in the customs in Germany at this time.  The American custom would be much more focused, and far more commercial.

The earliest use of the term “Easter bunny” that I could find is in 1893, in the Marble Hill Press, Missouri, April 6, p.1, where on Easter Sunday “the little ones were jubilant over the well filled rabbit nests that they found everywhere.  That Easter bunny was indeed kind.”  But there is no mention of an actual Easter bunny as an item.

In 1900, in the Somerset Herald, April 18, 1900, p.1, we find more details of a well-established custom.

The origin of the American Easter bunny, or rabbit, was the European hare, but the hare is so scarce with us and so little known that it was changed to our more familiar rabbit. Probably, this is due to the confectioners, who adopted them first, and used them most, as they are not usually experts in natural history.

Tradition has it that the connection of the hare and Easter springs from the moon. Inasmuch as the date of Easter waits on the moon, it may be termed a lunar season, and from the earliest time the hare has been a symbol of the moon for several reasons. A few of the many may be given. …The hare myth is one of the most prominent among English popular. Easter customs, being perpetuated in almost every part of the world by innumerable customs for the most part each one purely local. Yet while these different practices are much diversified their foundation is universally the hare.

Among the people of Germany the Easter hare is almost as important a part of their nursery lore as their kindly St. Nicholas. The white hare, that steals in at night to fill the nests of good children with eggs, is just as firmly believed in and eagerly expected by the “kinderleins” as Kris Kingle. They go to bed with the chicken in expectation of his visit, but to sleep, oh, no. Then up at dawn to search for what he has left.

In America the hare, or rabbit figures most conspicuously at the confectioner’s, where he may be found of all sizes and kinds, wheeling his barrow full of eggs, or drawing one large enough to be a triumphal chariot.

The earliest result from a search in Google books is in 1900, in two children’s books.  One of these is a poem that “The Easter Bunny is coming to town,” and the trivial use of the term implies that the “Easter bunny” was already in widespread use.

Grimm’s ideas were not unknown either.  An article in 1900 links the bunny to Grimm’s “Ostara.”

But let’s now fast forward almost a century.  The Somerset Herald article back in 1900 had already highlighted the very conspicuous role of the confectionery trade in promoting the Easter Bunny.  In fact it is claimed in various online articles that we know the name of the man who originated the chocolate Easter bunny, along with a photograph of one of his original promotional bunnies.

This story begins to appear very recently indeed.  In 1989 there is an article in the New York Times by Anne Driscol, published March 20, 1988, “Part-Timers Find a Sweet Workplace.”  This is a profile of a certain Ben Strohecker of Harbor Sweets near Boston.

He says the inspiration for his latest creation, an Easter bunny with an assorted nut and candy center, was equally serendipitous. He says his grandfather, Robert L. Strohecker, earned the title Father of the Easter Bunny Business because of his promotions of chocolate rabbits, including a 5-foot chocolate rabbit sculpture created in 1890. Although a photograph of the elder Strohecker and his sculpture had been hanging for years at Harbor Sweets, it was not until a colleague noticed the photograph elsewhere that the idea for what became the Robert L. Strohecker Assorted Rabbit was born.

No photograph of the 5-foot bunny is included.

The next article is in 2023, in the food section of Slate, by Emily Nussbaum, July 03, 2023, “The American Museum of Natural History’s “Chocolate” show is full of empty calories.”.  This reviews a “Chocolate” exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History, although again no photograph appears.

Better yet, you’ve got your photo of an immense Easter bunny, circa 1890. Five feet tall, the rabbit possesses the chalky dignity of an Egyptian sarcophagus, and it stands, golemlike, beside it is its creator, Robert L. Strohecker. The label reveals that Strohecker is “the ‘father’ of the chocolate Easter bunny”—pretty much the best epithet one could hope for in this life.

A 2010 article from the Smithsonian Magazine clearly draws upon an internet search.

The tradition of chocolate Easter bunnies dates back to 19th-century America, which borrowed it—and the Easter Bunny in general—from Germany. Sales started to take off around 1890, after a Pennsylvania man named Robert L. Strohecker featured a 5-foot-tall chocolate rabbit in his drugstore as an Easter promotion.

By the turn of the 20th century, newspapers noticed “the growing popularity in the States of the chocolate rabbit” among Easter confections, and by 1925, a catalog from the R.E. Rodda Candy Co. featured guitar-playing bunnies, suggesting that perhaps ordinary chocolate bunnies were old hat by then.

These articles have produced a certain number of descendants.

A detailed 2023 article by Kerry J. Byrne at Fox News (2023) tells us of a first generation German American named Robert L. Strohecker (b. 16 Jan 1864, d. 31 Mar. 1932).  He was a salesman for the W. H. Luden confectionery factory in Reading, Pennsylvania, which began in 1879 by selling cough drops.  Strohecker sold their products in the region, travelling in a horse-drawn wagon among the German settlers.  He is said to be the “Father of the Chocolate Easter Bunny.”

The source for all these claims appears to be a certain Ben Strohecker of Harbor Sweets.  Their website tells us:

Our chocolate rabbits are named for Robert L Strohecker, grandfather of Harbor Sweets’ founder Ben Strohecker. Grandpa Strohecker’s early promotions of chocolate rabbits earned him the title of “Father” of the Easter bunny business.

In the photo (circa 1890) Grandpa Strohecker stands next to his 5 foot chocolate rabbit. The chocolate rabbit was constructed at Luden’s factory in Reading, PA where Grandpa Strohecker was connected with William H Luden in the manufacture of candy. The chocolate rabbit was displayed in the window of the local department store. (The names of those who got a nibble are lost to history!)

A picture is displayed:

There seems no real reason to doubt this story, but all the same, one would prefer some corroboration of it.  We’re being offered a story about events of a century earlier from the mouth of one man with a commercial interest in telling it.  Is there anybody in the USA who could undertake some detective work here?

I did wonder whether a 19th century entrepreneur could have a grandson active in business in 1988.  Robert L. Strohecker was b. 1864, d. 1932; Ben Strohecker was aged 60 in 1988, so born 1928 (he died in 2016).  So that at least looks possible.

It is certainly correct that Robert Lincoln Strohecker worked for William H. Luden in Reading, Pennsylvania, because we have his obituary which tells us so.  Strohecker’s obituary appeared in the Reading Times April 1, 1932, telling of his death aged 68 the previous day, and that he worked for Luden for 43 years, thus from 1889.  There is sadly no mention of the chocolate bunny.

It is also the case that in 1902 W. H. Luden was one of three local companies manufacturing chocolate Easter eggs in the area.  A detailed description of the process is given in the Reading Eagle in March 23, 1902, p.10: “Home Firms Busy on Easter Goods,” which describes “the growing popularity in the States of the chocolate rabbit” and describes this as characteristic of the USA, and distinctive from other nations.

Our modern custom is decidedly commercial, and the marketing activities of a factory in Pennsylvania prior to 1902 would very much fit this profile.  It also correlates with the newspaper reports.  Whatever the role of this Robert L. Strohecker, there must have been men exactly like this active at the time in this way.  And they built a monster industry.

There seems no doubt that the modern Easter bunny, then, is the product of the confectionery industry around 1890.  It drew upon older, vaguer traditions of an “Easter Hare” – or other animals – among German immigrants.  These ideas were translated into English and given sharp marketing.  The pepped-up and commercialised Easter Bunny went out and conquered the world.

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  1. [1]See the excellent article on a whole range of myths at https://kiwihellenist.blogspot.com/2018/03/easter-and-paganism-2.html#:~:text=The%20Easter%20Rabbit%20is%20pagan,was%20a%20rabbit%20or%20hare.
  2. [2] http://www.munichfound.com/archives/id/45/article/759/