British Library Manuscripts Catalogue back online

Via Bluesky (is this a first?) I learn that the British Library Manuscript catalogue is now back online, two years after the cyber-attack destroyed it.  The post is from Calum Cockburn who is the curator of medieval manuscripts

An interim version of the Explore Archives and Manuscripts Catalogue is now available through the BL website: searcharchives.bl.uk It contains all the catalogue data from the eve of the 2023 cyberattack, and features embedded links to all currently available digitised content within the records.

The site traffic on Bluesky is so low that nobody seems to have read the post, so it’s well worth reposting here.

A search for “Tertulliani” correctly lists the three manuscripts of Tertullian that they hold, plus someone’s notes in a Lansdowne manuscript.

Where the manuscript is online, they include a link to it and a thumbnail image to the right.  The Tertullian manuscripts were never photographed, so have none.  (Possibly I should go down there and photograph them myself!)

Clicking on the link for the oldest, Royal MS 5 F XVIII:

Something I really do like is that link which I have circled in red: a list of all the manuscripts in that collection, the Royal manuscripts, the original deposit at the founding of the British Library.  (Others are “Additional”, etc).  That is very handy indeed.

Good to see progress!

From my diary

I’ve had no luck in getting away for a break.  The prices for hotels are simply ridiculous, and somehow other things creep in.

But I’m making good progress with Botolph.  After my last post, a very kind gentleman, who was visiting the Bodleian Library in Oxford on his own account, kindly offered to photograph the two manuscripts that they hold.  And so he did. (Update: I now have permission to say that this was Peter Kidd of manuscripts.org.uk, to whom I am very grateful indeed!)

These two are manuscripts of the epitome of the “Life of Botolph”, BHL 1429.  The shelfmarks are Bodleian MS Bodl. 240, and Bodleian MS Tanner 15, both manuscripts of the “Sanctilogium” of John of Tynemouth.  The same text appears in the printed “Nova Legenda Angliae” of 1516, and was reprinted with amendments by Horstmann in 1901.

Since these appeared, I have been collating the text.  Starting with Horstmann as a base – because I could OCR this – I compared it to the 1516 edition, to the two Bodleian manuscripts, and to British Library MS Cotton Tiberius E. 1, which I photographed myself.  This latter was damaged by fire, but it doesn’t seem to have much in the way of original readings.  All three manuscripts are 15th century, and much of a muchness.  Horstmann’s edition – based on the 1516 and the BL manuscript – is perfectly sound.  All I will contribute is a larger apparatus, I think.

All the same you really do learn a lot about a text and about the manuscripts by comparing them, word by word.  You get a definite feeling that one of the scribes was in a hurry, copying a not-very-important text, happy to stick a word a bit later if his eye skipped it, and occasionally putting down the wrong word of identical meaning during the process of reading a sentence into his head and writing it out again.  You get a feel for the scribe, and a feel for the language of the author.

Lots of fun!

The full “Life”, BHL 1428, was done, except that I have located the missing Cologne manuscript in Berlin, and need to collate that and establish its relationship to the other manuscripts, especially to the Rooklooster manuscript which is probably its twin. It may mean a change to the family tree (stemma) of the manuscripts.  It will mean changes to the apparatus.  I doubt that it will affect the text or translation.

As of today, I have a text of the epitome, BHL 1429, and a draft translation of it which I will now revise.

The very brief Life in the Breviarium Slesvicense (BHL 1430) was done a while back.

The “Translatio” of the relics of St Botolph (BHL 1431) has been transcribed and a translation made, but I need to do more on this.

So it’s coming along very nicely.  But I still need some summer holiday!

Update: Dr Kidd also advised me about the rather confusing shelfmark for MS 240:

The ‘Bodleian’ is a library but ‘MS. Bodley’ is a shelfmark, which should be abbreviated as ‘MS. Bodl.’. So the shelfmark of one of the MSS I sent is Bodleian, MS. Bodl. 240, not Bodleian, MS 240.

Thank you!

Kassel University online manuscripts -a fabulous interface!

Well here’s something special! (via this twitter post)  The image below (online here) is fairly familiar.  It shows the “serpent column” in Constantinople, as it was in the 16th century before the heads broke off.  The column is still there, in the Hippodrome.  It is, in fact, the ancient Greek monument commemorating the battle of Marathon, where the Greek cities defeated the Persians.  On it are inscribed the names of all the cities that sent soldiers.  But this is not what makes this site special.

Kassel 4° Ms. hist. 31 (Türkisches Manierenbuch / A Book of Turkish Customs), image 33 / f15r

The whole manuscript is there! It’s on folio 15r, which is the 33rd image in the manuscript.  The manuscript itself is a 16th century collection of illustrations of Turks in costume, with a few other things like this.  Such collections of pictures exist at other libraries too.

The interface is actually useful, at least on PC.  You get thumbnails, you get IIIF, you get proper references.  It’s really rather marvellous.  Universität Kassel have excelled!  The platform is something called “Orka”, and frankly this is very nice.

The breadcrumbs at the top make it easy to find the collection, select the Latin manuscripts, display a list of shelfmarks.  Whoever designed this actually talked to people who use these sites.

There are some 474 Latin manuscripts dated before 1500, which is very respectable.  And, blessedly, you can display 100 mss at a time, in various orders.

It’s tremendously useful.  It’s now time to note that the Kassel manuscripts are online, and may be accessible and usable.

From my diary: British Library manuscripts of the Life of St Botulf.

A couple of days ago I wrote to the British Library manuscripts department to enquire about the two manuscripts that contain versions of the medieval Latin “Life” of St Botulf.  Yesterday I received a really quite helpful reply.

Cotton MS Tiberius D III is a Special Access (Select) manuscript, so I’m afraid it’s not permitted to take photographs of that. However, there is a surrogate microfilm, Microfilm 2492, which you could take photos of for personal reference use.

Cotton MS Tiberius E I has been divided into two volumes, and it looks like the “Life” of St Botulf [Botulph] is now in Volume 2, at ff.14v-15v:

Cotton MS Tiberius E I/2    John Tynemouth, Sanctilogium Angliae, Walliae, Scotiae et Hiberniae
ff. 1r: Sts Petroc (Bibliotheca Hagiogrphica Latina 6640), continued from the previous volume; ff. 1r–3v: Boniface (BHL 1406); ff. 3v–4v: Gudwal (BHL 3690); ff. 4v–6v: Robert of Newminster (BHL 7269); ff. 6v–7v: William of York (BHL 8910); ff. 7v–10r: Columba (BHL 1891); ff. 10r–11v: Ivo (BHL 4624); ff. 11v–13v: Margaret of Scotland, with marginal genealogies (BHL 5326); ff. 13v–14v: Odulphus (BHL 6321); ff. 14v–15v: Botulph (BHL 1429); ff. 15v–19r: Alban; … …
Decoration: Each life opens with an initial, either red with blue pen-work or blue with red pen-work. Small initials in blue and red throughout.    A parchment codex.    2nd half of the 14th century    Latin

There are no access restrictions for this, so you can take photos from the original manuscript.

The “select” manuscripts at the British Library are those which require special permission to access.  In this case, I suspect that damage from the fire is the reason.  I’ve written to check.

The first manuscript is a copy of the full text, which is the one that I need, unfortunately.  The other is an abbreviated “Life”, which I will work on later.  But I may as well get what I need now.

Looking at the British Library website, this says that imaging services, i.e. “photography” are unavailable.  This is the legacy of the cyber-attack in October 2023.  The attack must have been very impressive indeed, if it not only destroyed all the IT, and took all the manuscripts offline forever, but also ensured that the library staff were unable to use cameras even a year and a half later, or even hire a reprographics bureau.   Very strong stuff.

But on the positive side it does mean that I can get some perfectly usable photographs with my smartphone with no fuss.  Let us hope the microfilm is readable.

So it seems that I shall have to make a visit to London town.  The journey from here is long and expensive – it’s probably easier and cheaper to get a budget flight from Milan than to travel in by train – but what must be will be.  I’ve not been down for many years.  I prefer the countryside!

It’s now more than forty years since I went down to London one Sunday afternoon, in order to start my working career on the Monday.  I booked into a cheap hotel in Bloomsbury, where the doorman looked down his nose at this nervous lad with his rucksack.  It rained that evening, and I walked down to Denmark Street, and I looked into the window of Forbidden Planet, the Sci-Fi bookshop that used to be there.  London on a Sunday night can be very dark.  But there was a recession on, and I knew that I was lucky to have got a job at all.  It’s funny how some memories remain with you.

Anyway, I shall have to discover how the trains work these days, and the underground.  It will probably be in a couple of weeks.  Meanwhile there is plenty of material to work with.

From my diary: Gray’s Inn MS 3

Gray’s Inn is located in central London near the law courts.  It is one of the four “inns of court” to which all barristers and judges must belong.  The inns of court are medieval, but I know nothing much about them.

Gray’s Inn Library contains a collection of 24 medieval manuscripts.  Horwood, the author of the catalogue from 1869, does not know where they came from, and I have been unable to locate any recent scholarship on the manuscripts. But the suggestion is that they were donated by members over the centuries.  Some of these did come from monastic institutions.

Gray’s Inn MS 3 is a collection of saints’s lives.  From the Legendiers Latins website, I learned that it contains a copy of Folcard’s “Life” of St Botulf (BHL 1428), on folios 136r-137r.  This is a copy of the full text, but without either the rather nervous dedicatory letter to Wakelin, bishop of Winchester, nor the “translatio” of Botulf’s relics from Iken to wherever.  The Horwood catalogue from 1869 gives only a very brief entry, which tells us nothing about the origins of the manuscript.  It suggests that the manuscript is 11th century, which seems a bit early to me.

Yesterday I sent an email of enquiry.  Later the same day, I was astonished and delighted to receive a reply, containing a PDF with colour photographs of the relevant pages.  Very efficient indeed!  I am very grateful to the Honourable Society of Gray’s Inn.

Here’s a bit of folio 136r.  It shows the “explicit” from the previous text – the passiones of SS. Cyriacus and Jullita – and  then in red the “incipit vita sancti botulfi abbatis quae celebratur xv kalend. Julii.” – “the start of the life of St. Botulf the abbot, which is celebrated on 15th day before the kalends of July.”  That’s the 17th June in our calendar.

The images are perfectly clear and readable.  I have started to process the manuscript into my collation of all the manuscripts, which is in a Word document.  You can see in the image above that, as I am the proud owner of a copy of Adobe Acrobat Pro – albeit in the elderly version 9 – I have added “sticky notes” to the PDFs, in order to indicate where the start of each chapter is.  This habit assists you markedly in finding passages in the text when you are trying to compare manuscripts.  You learn by doing.

My initial impression is that the variants in this copy feel a bit unsound.  These are later tweaks to the text.  But we will see.

One very interesting feature appears in the names of kings.  The scribe has written them, not as “Adelmundus”, which is what every other manuscript has, but as “Aethelmundus”, complete with ligature “æ” and “thorn” – æþelmundus:

I have never seen this in a Latin manuscript.  Is this an antiquarian at work, perhaps?  I really ought to dig out some paleography materials and try to work out the date of the bookhand.  Maybe later.

From my diary: Cotton manuscripts at the British Library

The Bollandist fathers in Belgium have maintained a wonderful database of the medieval manuscripts containing copies of material about the saints, especially their “Lives” and this has been fed into the new Legendiers Latins website.  But the information is not comprehensive.  For instance, for St Botulf, it does not contain any mention of British Library manuscript Cotton Tiberius D. iii.

I don’t know much about the Cotton manuscripts.  As so often with major manuscript libraries, the “Cotton” collection is so called because it was assembled by an individual, whose manuscripts came into the British Library in a bunch.  In this case the donor was Sir Robert Cotton, or rather his grandson, and the circumstances may be read at Wikipedia here.

Cotton divided his manuscripts into groups, which he named after Roman emperors.  Apparently each group was in a particular book case, with the bust of the emperor on the top.  So the shelfmark tells us that this manusccript could be found in the “Tiberius” bookcase shelf D, number 3.

Unfortunately the Cotton manuscripts were all damaged in a fire in the 18th century.  Some were preserved intact; others burned to a crisp; and everything in between.  Scholars still needed to be able to consult the remains, so ingenious solutions were found such as this:

Cotton MS Tiberius E VI

The British Library has a webpage which has links to digitised copies of the manuscript catalogues.  There are two catalogues for the Cotton manuscripts, one from 1696, one from 1802.  Oddly the newer catalogue is less comprehensive.  Here is the entry for our MS:

The Smith catalogue entry is:

Entry 53 is our text, and tells us that  it contains the letter “ad Walchelmum episcopum”, i.e. the dedicatory letter to Wakelin, bishop of Winchester.  There’s no folio numbers, but Hardy’s “Descriptive catalogue of materials” tells us that it’s folios 223v-225v, and 13th century.

The truth is that looking at the Smith catalogue is an overwhelming experience for anyone interested in the history of our people.  This is a vast collection of material, all of it of the highest importance for English history.  Cotton even owned a Magna Carta!  He collected all this stuff from the ruined monasteries.  It’s one thing to read words about how important the collection was for historical purposes.  It’s quite another to read through the list of saints – all English or British – and realise that this is the raw stuff of medieval England.

This leads us to the next question – what survives of BL Cotton Tiberius D. iii?

I don’t know the answer.  I do know that back in 1901 when Horstmann issued a new edition of the Nova Legenda Anglie of Capgrave, originally printed in the 15th century by Wynkyn de Worde, he collated the “Life” of St Botulf with the Cotton manuscript.  There are variants in the footnotes!  So it must be readable to at least some extent?

I do have a readers’ card for the British Library manuscripts department.  Sadly it is no longer valid since the cyber-attack a few years ago.  The BL website informs me that I would have to get a new letter of introduction from an academic in order to get another.  Curiously I must get a fresh one every time I renewed the readers’ card (!).  Getting a new letter of introduction is awkward for an independent researcher like myself.  Indeed I don’t quite know whom I would ask.  I don’t really want the journey anyway.

I will pop an email over and see if there is another way!

From my diary: Cambridge, St Johns College Library MS H.6

I started with a list of manuscripts of the “Life of St Botulf” by Folcard.  Some I had already in PDF form, others I could find online.  For others in English libraries, I have ventured to write to the institution and ask for help.  This has been very generously forthcoming.

One of the manuscripts is at Cambridge, St John’s College, MS 209, or H.6, as I  gather it is now known.  The college has a very nice catalogue for it online here.  I wrote a few days ago asking for help.  Yesterday, so very quickly, I received a very kind reply from Adam Crothers, the PhD helping out with the special collections.  He enclosed a PDF of the relevant pages!  The images are in a very clear high-resolution greyscale scan!

By permission of the Master and Fellows of St John’s College, Cambridge.

This scan was plainly professionally photographed.  It is ideal to work with.  It calls to you to do so, to start editing, transcribing, collating!  The beautifully clear writing is almost an education in paleography itself, as you work through the text and note the abbreviations.  Note the “eius” = “ei9”, four lines from the bottom.  Underneath it, “ad gloriam”, abbreviated.  Or “cecum” (blind), at the start of the last but one.

The manuscript is 12th century, written only a few decades after the composition of the text.  It was donated to the college in modern times, but the catalogue tells me that at the top of folio 1 are the (erased) words:

liber ecclesie diui Benedicti de Ramsey

book of the church of St Benedict of Ramsey

So this book came from Ramsey Abbey, only a dozen miles from Thorney Abbey, where Folcard composed the text.

This manuscript does not just include the text of the “Life”.  It also includes a copy of the dedicatory letter (“prologus”) by the author to Wakelin, the Norman bishop of Winchester after the conquest.  This is not common in the manuscripts of the “Life.”

The presence of this letter is very welcome: it was undoubtedly part of the author’s manuscript, and so this suggests that the text has been less tampered with than in most manuscripts.  I have already collated it, and I think that there were only two unique variants, both obviously scribal mistakes.  In general it gives exactly the text which I suspect Folcard wrote.

MS H.6 then follows the “Life” with another Botulf item: a “translatio”, an account of the transfer of the bones of St. Botulf from Iken to … well, wherever they ended up.  It begins with “Coenobium Thornense…”, another reference to Thorney Abbey.  This “translatio” includes a reference to the “Life”, and the author uses very very similar vocabulary.  I’ve spent a bit of time today transcribing this into a Word document, but I’ve only done about 20% of it.

I am very grateful to Adam and St John’s College for the chance to work with this very fine manuscript.

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!

A fake media story about “discovery” of lost works by Apollonius of Perge

Six days ago, the “TürkiyeToday” website published a story revealing that lost works by the ancient mathematician, Apollonius of Perge, had been found in an Arabic manuscript in Leiden by Prof. Jan Pieter Hogendijk.  The story has since reached other outlets, including the Jerusalem Post.

This story would be very exciting, if it was true.  But after some investigation, I find that it’s complete nonsense.  The “lost works” have been known for centuries.

Let’s start with the story as it appears online now:

Lost works of ancient mathematician Apollonius of Anatolia found in rare Arabic manuscript

By Koray Erdogan Feb 5, 2025

Scientists have uncovered two lost books by Apollonius, the renowned mathematician from Anatolia, in an Arabic manuscript housed at the Leiden University Libraries in the Netherlands. This extraordinary find sheds new light on the preservation and transmission of ancient Anatolian knowledge during the Islamic Golden Age.

Apollonius (262 B.C.–190 B.C.) (Apollonius of Perge) is celebrated for his groundbreaking work in geometry, particularly in his book The Conics of Apollonius. This work, which introduces the concepts of hyperbolas, ellipses, and parabolas, was one of the most influential in ancient Anatolian mathematics. However, only four of the original eight books of “The Conics” were available to European scholars during the Renaissance.

The missing books—five and seven—are now found preserved in an 11th-century Arabic manuscript, a translation that had been lost to history.

The manuscripts, which were acquired by Dutch orientalist and mathematician Jacob Golius during his travels to the Middle East in the 17th century, form part of a vast collection of nearly 200 manuscripts that he brought back to Leiden University.

Golius’s acquisition of these texts not only enriched Western scientific scholarship but also played a crucial role in the rediscovery of lost ancient works.

The newly revealed Arabic translation of Apollonius’s lost books is accompanied by detailed illustrations and exquisite Arabic calligraphy. The Dutch mathematician and historian of science, Jan Pieter Hogendijk, emphasized the importance of these manuscripts as symbols of the intellectual achievements of Islamic scientists, noting their precision and artistic quality. “These manuscripts are a testament to the mental discipline and focus of their creators,” Hogendijk stated.

The story the rest of the story is padding, although it refers to a recent volume published in Leiden, “Prophets, Poets and Scholars” as if it was the source.

In fact the news story does not make sense.  Apollonius of Perge did indeed write a textbook on geometry called the “Conics”, in 8 books.  Only the first four books are preserved in Greek.  Books 5 to 7 are indeed preserved only in an Arabic translation.

But this Arabic translation has been known for centuries.  None other than Edmund Halley, of Halley’s Comet, published an edition of the Arabic text of these books with Latin translation.  A modern edition and English translation appeared in 1990 by Gerald Toomer:

Apollonius of Perga; Toomer, Gerald J. (1990). Conics, books V to VII: the Arabic translation of the lost Greek original in the version of the Banū Mūsā. Series: Sources in the History of Mathematics and Physical Sciences. Vol. 9. New York: Springer (1990). DOI:10.1007/978-1-4613-8985-9. ISBN 978-1-4613-8987-3.

In the preface to the Toomer volume, indeed, on p.viii, we read:

I wish to acknowledge a particular debt of gratitude to my former colleague, J.P. Hogendijk. He read the whole book in draft form, corrected a number of errors, made several suggestions for improvement, and offered some original contributions, which I have gladly incorporated. I need hardly say that all remaining imperfections are solely my responsibility.

Today I have communicated with Prof. Hogendijk.  I learn that he was unaware of the news reports, despite some of them claiming to have an email interview with him.  The Prophets, Poets and Scholars publication from Leiden does indeed exist, and he has a paper in it.  This he lists on his home page here as item 89.  Here’s the bibliographical detail.  But he kindly sent me a copy of the paper, and this makes no such claims.

Jan P. Hogendijk, Jacobus Golius and his Arabic manuscripts on the exact sciences, pp. 114-123 in Arnoud Vrolijk, Kasper van Ommen, Karin Scheper and Tijmen Baarda, eds., Prophets, Poets and Scholars: The Collections of the Middle Eastern Library of Leiden University , Leiden: Leiden University Press, 2024. ISBN 9789087284077 (print); 9789400604520 (ePDF), https://doi.org//10.24415/9789087284077

So… the news story is pure rubbish.  One feels for Prof. Hogendijk, to whom all this nonsense is being attributed.

    *    *    *    *

Ancient Greek mathematical texts are today a field of limited interest, perhaps.  In 17th century Europe, on the other hand, they were of real interest to contemporary mathematicians, trying to solve the same problems.

But reading the preface of the 1990 Toomer book reveals some quite fascinating details of the process whereby the text actually came to light.  Here are some abbreviated extracts from p. xxi onwards.

Since it was known from Apollonius’ introduction to Book I of the Conics that they were originally in eight books, there was considerable interest in 17th-century Europe in recovering the missing Books V-VIII. As we have seen (p. xviii) Books V-VII were extant in Arabic, both in the original translation made by Thabit for the Banu Musa, and in various reworkings. The study of Arabic was beginning to expand in Europe in the later 16th century, and underwent a real flowering in the 17th. Furthermore a manuscript of one of the Arabic versions of the Conics had reached Italy in 1578, and others came to northern Europe from 1629 on. Yet nothing of significance for the later books3 was published until 1661, and no translation of the version closest to Apollonius’ original, that of the Banu Musa, appeared until 1710…..

Among the oriental manuscripts which were given in 1578 by Ignatius Ni’matallah (“Neama”, “Nehama”), Patriarch of Antioch, to Cardinal Ferdinando dei Medici, later Grand-Duke of Tuscany, and founder of the Medicean printing-press in Rome, the first Arabic press, was a compendium of the Conics by Abu’l-Fath Mahmud al-Isfahani. Its importance was recognized by the man in charge of the press, Giambattista Raimondi, who intended to publish an edition, but had still not done so when he died in 1614. At that date there is some talk in the correspondence of Galileo about publishing the work, but then interest lapsed until 1645…

In the meantime two other Arabic manuscripts of the Conics had been brought to Europe. In 1629 Jacobus Golius returned to Leiden from a prolonged visit to the east, bringing back a large number of manuscripts in Arabic, Persian and other languages. Among them was the splendid codex of Apollonius’ Conics, in the version commissioned by the Banu Musa, which is now in the Bodleian Library ..[ms. “O”] .. This was given to him by his countryman David Leleu de Wilhem “for the public good.” Knowledge of the existence of this manuscript (or rather of the apograph which had been made from it of Books V-VII) was rapidly disseminated by the catalogue of the manuscripts deposited by Golius in the Leiden library which the enterprising Gassendi had printed at Paris in 1630. Golius promised to publish the recovered books, and seemed ideally qualified to do so, since he was both an accomplished Arabist and a competent mathematician (shortly after his return from the east he was appointed to the Professorships of Arabic and Mathematics at Leiden).

However, not only did he fail to publish the lost Apollonius himself, but he manreuvred adrOitly and successfully to prevent anyone else doing it for the rest of his life lhe died in 1667), jealously guarding access to his manuscript and the partial copies of it which existed at Leiden, and actively deterring others who were inclined to try their hand, for instance by claiming that he alone could read the difficult script of the manuscript (which is in fact extremely legible). In the years 1644-1646 he was apprehensive that the English mathematician John Pell would anticipate him by publishing Books V-VII from the manuscript of Ravius (on which see below), but seems to have dissuaded him by pretending that he was about to produce his own version. Golius might be excused for not publishing the Apollonius himself on the grounds that he was not idle during these years, being engaged on, amongst other things, his great Lexicon Arabico-Latinum (Leiden, 1653). But his dog-in-the-manger attitude towards the efforts of others to get access to the work, or to publish alternative versions, caused increasing frustration and disgust throughout Europe and among his own countrymen, which can be traced through the decades of the 1630’s and 1640’s in the Mersenne correspondence. …

When Golius died in 1667 his valuable collection of manuscripts, including the Apollonius (see p. xxii) went not to the University of Leiden, but to his personal heirs. Negotiations between them and Cambridge University for the sale of the manuscripts as a lot fell through, and they remained, inaccessible, in the hands of the heirs for nearly 30 years. However, Golius was no longer in a position to restrict access to the partial copies of the Conics which he had handed over to the Leiden library, …

In 1696 Golius’ heirs finally decided to auction his manuscripts. Bernard persuaded Narcissus Marsh (then Archbishop of Dublin), a great patron of scholarship and interested in orientalia, to give him carte blanche to buy at the auction. Although ilt he traveled to Leiden for the sale in October 1696, and bought for Marsh a large number of interesting mss., including the famous Apollonius. But he never recovered from the effects of the winter voyage, dying at Oxford shortly after his return, on Jan. 12, 1697, aged 58, with most of his ambitious plans, including his edition of the Conics, uncompleted. However, the manuscript was now where it would be made available to the man who was to do the most for Apollonius in modern times, Edmond Halley.

Halley’s great edition of Apollonius’ Conics was published at Oxford in 1710. It was the editio princeps of the Greek text, and is until the present publication the only translation of Books V-VII based on the original Arabic version (that supervised by the Banu Musa): all later translations of these books derive from Halley’s Latin version. …

The manuscript of Golius is now in the Bodleian, where it is MS Marsh 667, and is online!  It was written in 1070AD in Azerbaijan, but was in Aleppo by 1627, where it was acquired by Leleu de Wilhelm, for Golius, as indicated by a note in the volume.

While the news story is nonsense, let us hope that it draws attention to the possibilities of real discoveries, waiting to be found in Arabic translation.  Maybe someone will be inspired to work more on these collections!  That would be a nice outcome.

Fragments of two lost plays by Euripides discovered in Egypt

In November 2022 a Colorado classical scholar, Yvona Trnka-Amrhein, was sent a digital photograph of a papyrus containing 98 lines of text, and measuring 10.5 inches square, by Basem Gehad, an Egyptian archaeologist with the ministry of tourism and antiquities.  The papyrus came from Philadelphia, and the two scholars had been working together also at Hermopolis Magna.

Investigation of the find using the TLG quickly revealed that the material was Greek tragedy: 22 of the lines proved to be a slightly different version of material from two plays by Euripides, the Polyidus and the Ino.  The rest was new, and probably from the same source.

There is a little more information here.  Unfortunately there is no photograph of the papyrus, or other details of the find.  Let us hope that this swiftly becomes available.

It’s out there, people.  There is more of the literature of antiquity just sitting there, awaiting discovery.  Rather good news, all the same.