Medieval Glasses and Viking Reading Crystals

As a leatherworker, I get extremely interested when I hear the phase "leather framed glasses".  I never knew such a thing existed until a few days ago, when I saw a link to an article discussing a rare book containing an even rarer imprint of glasses.  Yes, someone, several hundred years ago, shut their glasses in the back of a book they'd been reading:

 Impression of glasses left in the endpapers of a copy of the Opera of Fr. Luigi di Granata (1568-69).  This copy uses a page from an older manuscript.  It was pretty common for printed books of this time period to reuse old manuscripts for endpapers or as spine liners.  Photo by Pete Smith.  Original article:  http://www.utexas.edu/opa/blogs/culturalcompass/2012/04/17/medieval-spectacles/

The speculation is that these were leather framed glasses, an invention that was certainly in use in the 15th and 16th centuries.  It certainly makes you wonder how long those glasses remained in there before someone removed them though.  I also wonder how unobservant someone would have to be to lose their glasses in such a way...

Still, glasses are definitely up there in the most important inventions of the last 2000 years.  They were likely invented in Italy between 1268-1289, based on contemporary sources such as paintings and even sermons.  Although none of these early spectacles have survived (the earliest pair we have being from around 1400), we know that The Guild of Crystal Workers in Venice adopted the term "roida da ogli" in 1300 to refer specifically to lenses for glasses.

Before glasses were developed, however, monks had been using reading stones.  These were basically medieval magnifying glasses:

Between 1000 and 1250, presbyopic monks used reading stones, often made of beryllium or quartz, to read and work on manuscripts.  It would take another two centuries before someone thought to stick smaller versions of them into frames that sat in front of the eyes.

It was thought that these reading stones were mostly the property of monks, however, a set of crystal lenses made from quartz showed up in Viking graves in Visby, Gotland (Sweden).  Now, in fairness, Vikings were known for their love of pillaging monasteries.  They also had trade links though, which we often forget about.  Archaeologists believe that the lenses came from Byzantium or the Middle East, although unfinished lenses and rock crystal beads were found in 1999 in Frojel, meaning that someone could have been making them on Gotland.  The nifty thing about these lenses is that these people didn't have the mathematical knowledge to create them, still believing that light emanated from the eyes, rather than entering them.  They must have created these things through trial and error alone -- and it's believed that the know-how to do so was restricted to only a handful of craftsmen, if not only one at this time.

A range of the lenses found at Visby, although sadly, the largest and most impressive one has been lost since the 1950s.  Some of these were mounted and hung from pendants.  The others may have been waiting for mounting or were left deliberately unmounted.  Likely used for magnification, however, they could also have been used for starting fires or just as decoration.

Work undertaken at Aalen University of Applied Sciences concluded that although the mounted lenses were most likely used only as jewelry, the larger, unmounted lenses are shaped just like a modern projector lens.  The shaping was also deliberate, not accidental, so it's very difficult for the scholars to believe that these items weren't intended  to work as visual aids.  Certainly not during a time when such items did not commonly exist.

Refractive bling:  An aspheric lens mounted in silver, found in the graves in Visby, Gotland.  The lenses are suspected to be older than their mountings.  On the decorative pendants, like this one, the back of the mount is not open, but polished silver.  This smaller lens is purely decorative.

Either way, there's no disputing that if I were a Viking with a sight problem living on Gotland, I'd want one of these bad boys to help me see to do my crafts.  Also, it must be said that the smaller mounted lenses are really very pretty.  I'm a sucker for Viking bling, what can I say?

A Medieval Christmas in England

Over the past few days I've read quite a few articles about how people in medieval times spent their Christmas.  My big bugbear about this is that many articles have spoken about the past as if it's all one big place -- and even as if all of Europe is one big place.  Having lived in a few countries myself, I know that the way one country celebrates Christmas is totally different from another; from that, it's fair to guess that one century also celebrated it in a different way to the others before or after it.  The main problem is that very few accounts still exist from various times that tell how people spent their Christmas -- therefore we amalgamate and extrapolate.  It's fair, though I've tried to keep this post to a limited time period (1340s - 1480s), which has actually been difficult to do.  It's sad that much of the evidence has gone.  Thing is, not all of it has.  Some of it is there, you just have to look for it.

For example, manuscripts sometimes show in their marginalia drawings of mummers and guisers ("performers in disguise") performing plays.  We know that in England's royal courts, for example, plays were written annually for the mummers.  We even have some picture evidence:

Mummers wearing full facial masks as part of a mumming (play).  Mummings took place at Christmas though apart from knowing that they used rhyming couplets, we know little else about the early mummings.  This is from a manuscript created in 1344 for the court of Edward III.  Source:  Bodleian Library.

Sadly, no play scripts or performance details exist from this time period.  In fact, it's only documented in that way from the mid-18th century, but we do know that tradition goes back quite away due to references in manuscripts and pictures like the one above.  We also know that these plays usually cast St. George as the hero and a Turkish knight as the villain.  They also often featured a theme of resurrection, usually where a doctor administers a cure for the fallen.

We also know from reports that Edward VI had a massive Christmas feast in 1482.  He reportedly fed 2,000 people per day, for the entire 12 days of Christmas.  He also took the chance to glam up (just as well as it was his last Christmas), with one guest noting that he was "clad in a great variety of most costly garments, of quite a different cut to those which had usually be seen hitherto in our kingdom."  He was a believer in style and in bling, even when it came to food.  They served up a variety of different meats, including the obvious boar and the not so obvious peacock:

 The feast of the peacock, 15th century.  Yes, when they served peacock, they served it with the feathers.  Well, they took the skin and the feathers off to cook it, and then wrapped them back around the bird when it was done so it was presented at the table looking more like it did when it was alive.  Sometimes, if they were feeling really extravagant, they gilded the combs.  True fact.  For more traditions, check out this blog.

Boar, however, was what Richard III preferred, which is no surprise given that the white boar was his personal emblem.  And it was popular because it's tasty.  Really tasty.  Peacock was, by contrast, pretty tough and not all that tasty, but it was really, really expensive.  In fact, it was the most expensive bird money could buy for around 350 years, according to records kept by London's poultry guild.  So, looks like it was the medieval version of caviar then.  Yes, I have opinions.

Exchanging presents is a fairly obvious custom, still practiced today as it was back then.  Gifts were often bestowed on the members of the court, but the gift giving didn't stop there.  Relics were sometimes gifted to churches.  Titles and honours were also presented to people.... and sometimes, they even threw in the promise of a wife.  In 1470, George Neville was granted a dukedom and a betrothal to Elizabeth of York as a way of trying to pacify the Yorkist supporters.

 Elizabeth of York, not just for Christmas:  Didn't marry Neville in the end.  She did much better for herself by marrying Henry VII and being the mother to Prince Henry (later Henry VIII).  She died when he was 11.

Course, Neville switched sides not long after, which kind of broke the marriage deal.  Still, Elizabeth got a better deal in 1484 when she and Anne Neville (yes, same family, only this one was married to Richard III) exchanged presents of clothing.  According to at least one source, there was a lot of dancing and singing that particular year, so apparently drinking and hangovers was probably also a part of these festivities.  A strong Church Ale was also sold at Christmas, often leading to a lot of dancing, singing and general merriment in the churches and churchyards, which some people frowned upon.  Then again, some folks will frown on anything.  Ah well, sucked to be them!  Happy hangovers!

If you want to read even more about this, head on over to this awesome site:  http://www.britainexpress.com/History/medieval/christmas.htm

The Jesse Tree

It's been a little while since my last posting... You know how it is -- December is a month for family and friends visiting and for panicking and shopping and, well, failing to get stuff done.  I even got a little bit of writer's block, if I'm honest, so I decided to turn to my leatherworking muse to try and shift it.  In doing research for tree designs, I came across the idea of a Jesse Tree -- an unfamiliar idea that actually should be very familiar, as it turns out.

A Jesse Tree from the Winchester Psalter, a 12th century book of psalms from England, made for the brother of King Stephen.  It depicts the line of Christ.  Yep, it's a family tree.

The chap lying down at the bottom is Jesse, father to David, who is the chap on the first fork of the tree.  It ascends up to Mary and then Jesus at the top.  The chaps at either side are actually prophets, holding the scriptures that point to the prophesy of Christ as the Messiah.  It's a fairly common theme in these scriptural family trees -- but they're not just kept to books.  Trees of Jesse are also depicted in stained glass windows in churches and as time went on, good grief, they got grand:

 

Stained glass Jesse Tree at Saint-Étienne's church in Beauvais, France, created between 1522-1524.  Jesse is the chap in the four-poster bed at the bottom.  To his left is Francis I of France and to his right is the Holy Roman Emporer Charlies V.  The rest are misc kings of Judea plus St. Louis.

It took two years for this to be put together -- it's no wonder really to look at it.  It's amazingly beautiful and detailed.  If you'd like to see better and more in detail pictures, check out this article by Professor Moriarty. 

It wasn't just stereotypical churchy things that got the whole Jesse Tree treatment either.  I came across a liturgical comb fragment that features this design:

Ivory comb fragment from Bavaria, Germany.  It's from between 1180-1220 and measures 3 5/8"x4" in size and has an insane amount of detail.  Each of the scriptures have writing in Latin, in incredibly small lettering...  How much skill?

Isiah is stood on the left, holding a scroll that translates to "And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse...".  I don't think they could have thought of a more unattractive way of putting it.  Yeesh.  That was probably the point though.

I've always wondered where the idea of a family tree actually came from.  Incidentally, the Jesse Tree bears no relation to the Christmas tree, even though I really looked for that connection -- well, you know.  It's December.  Everything has to be Christmas related, right?

The Smithfield Decretals

In my random googlings today, I came across a manuscript with the weirdest marginalia.  It's the Decretals of Gregory IX with glossa ordinaria, specifically The Smithfield Decretals.  This work was a collection of medieval canon law, designed to replace all the previous collections.  Originally compiled in 1230, this specific manuscript was actually finished around 1300 in Southern France.  Well, the written part was. 

 Top:  The last page of the Smithfield Decretals, including illustrations.  Oh, the folio is half a metre tall, by the way.

Bottom:  Close up of the last line of the manuscript.  Translated, it reads "The whole thing is finished; give the guy who wrote it a drink."  Good man!

Nearly all the illuminations, however, were added 40 years later.  Whoever owned it at that point lived in England and commissioned a group of artists to illuminate every page of the folio.  Some of the pages have pretty illustrations of birds or people hunting boar and are fairly "normal".  Other pages show battles and sieges, with some interesting details:

In this case, the interesting detail is that the castle is being defended by a sword-wielding woman.  Judging by the hairstyles, everyone in the castle is female, barring the face at the window, which could be that of a child.  Still, looks like the guy on the ladder is having a really bad hair day...

There are also some illustrations of Reyard the Fox, who was a trickster character in European folklore.  He is shown preaching to geese, chickens and even a heron.  But of course, geese are tasty...

Nom, nom, nom, geese.  I wonder what this picture could *possibly* be an allegory of... that's almost brave for the time!

Of course, once Reynard is caught, he must face  justice for his crime.  Hanging is a fitting medieval punishment for theft and murder:

The geese and ducks require retribution!  Though how on Earth that goose intends to fire that bow is beyond me...

Given that Reynard was a wily type, he probably managed to talk them out of it at the last, mind.  The manuscript has many story pictures of this type, including the revenge of the bunny rabbits, a knight jousting against a snail, and a dragon attacking a windmill.  If any of these descriptions take your fancy, a catalogue of images is available here:  http://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/record.asp?MSID=6549&CollID=16&NStart=100504

I swear, there is even one captioned "Man attacking a butterfly."  I'd love to know the context for that one...

Boccaccio's Famous Women

I was doing more research into Chaucer's works when I stumbled upon Boccaccio.  Boccaccio wrote the Decameron, published around 1353, which is the work that inspired Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.  Boccaccio also wrote a work in 1374 called De Claris Mulieribus (Of Famous Women).  This book was unusual for it's time in that it was the first collection of solely female biographies ever written.  It includes 106 different biographies about famous historical or mythological women.  Of course, as this is a medieval work, there are several different copies of this manuscript.  On top of that, Boccaccio also decided that he'd like to revise his book a few times in the last 20 years of his life and send many of them to influential women.  As this was a very popular book, there were also versions printed after his death.  My favourite illustrations are from De Claris Mulieribus, 599, which is held by the National Library of France, which is dated as being 1401-1500, with no further information.  Sadly, their online copy is only available in black and white, which is rubbish because the illustrations in this particular manuscript are beautiful.  Hooray for Wikimedia Commons though, which has plenty of the illustrations in colour!

What I find surprising about this particular manuscript is how many women are pictured wearing armour.  Take Tamyris for example:

Queen Tamyris of the Massagetae, lead her army to victory against the Persians in 529BC.  "I warned you that I would quench your thirst for blood, and so I shall".  Wikimedia Commons.

Queen Tamyris became queen of her people in her own right after her husband died.  The Persian emporer of the time, Cyrus the Great, decided he wanted her land and asked her to marry him.  She refused and so there was war.  There were a few more complications than that, in all honesty; after all, her son was captured and committed suicide in shame.  That's going to make any mother angry, so when she and her army caught up to Cyrus, she had him killed, then beheaded and crucified, before putting his head into a wineskin filled with blood.  After that, she had his brain scooped out and turned into a bowl for wine, just in case that wasn't enough retribution for the loss of her son and the deaths of those in her armies. To clarify, Tamyris is a historical person, just in case any of that seemed too fantastic.

Another warrior woman shown in armour in the manuscript is Penthesilea.  Penthesilea was an Amazon queen who accidentally killed another Amazon queen whilst out hunting, so in order to be purified of the crime, she was sent to fight on the side of Troy in the Trojan War.

"Furious Penthesilea leads a battleline of Amazons with crescent shields, and she glows in the middle of thousands fastening golden belts around the exposed breast, female warrior, and the maiden dares to run with men."  From The Aenid.  The picture does not show exposed breast, but it certainly hints at it.  I also cannot help but wonder if it is inferred that there is armour plating under that skirt, but that's my personal speculation.

Penthesilea caught the attention of Achilles due to her prowess in battle and so he arranged matters to where he would face her on the battlefield.  She fought him, but sadly, she was fighting Achilles.  The story goes that as she died, Achilles saw her beauty, fell in love and actually mourned her.

The other two women to be shown in armour in this manuscript are Orithyia and Antiope, who were both Amazon queens who co-ruled:

Nice armour, ladies.  Although I'd love to know how Antiope intends to sit down without stabbing herself somewhere entirely unpleasant.

Antiope was the wife of Theseus and there are several variations on her tale, all ending in her death in a battle or fight.  Orithyia, likewise, died of her wounds after beseigeing Athens in order to get her sister back.  In a way, showing these four women in armour is not strange, as Tamrys and Penthesilea are two of the nine female worthies named by Eustache Deschamps -- individuals who personified the ideals of chivalry of the later part of the 15th century.  From there it's easily argued that if you show one Amazon in armour, you have to show the rest in armour too.

The manuscript has so much to offer in terms of showing female attire of the 15th century though.  For example you've a depiction of Clytemnestra, Agamemnon's wife looking quite well dressed:

 I bet that headdress makes her at least a foot and a half taller.  However, you have to appreciate that neckline...

...and Epicharis, a freedwoman from Nero's Rome, who refused to betray her fellow conspirators to assassination, despite being heavily tortured.  She's shown in the manuscript with some very nice side lacing:

In case you're wondering, she's said to have strangled herself on her girdle in order to prevent her confession under a second bout of torture...

There are so many examples of good medieval female fashion in De Claris Mulieribus 599 that it's worth checking out the gallery on Wikimedia Commons.  I do believe this manuscript is also worthy of a few posts!

Freydís Eiríksdóttir, Viking Warrior

A recent study of Viking burials in Britain showed that there were a lot more female Vikings in invasion forces than scholars have given credit for over the years.  In fact, it's now estimated that the invading forces to Britain may have been between 33-50% female.  The reason for this change of heart is that archeologists have started analysing the skeletons found in burials, as well as the grave goods, rather than judging gender on the grave goods only.  In the past, a burial with a brooch was thought to be female; with a sword, it was thought to be male; with both, it was a male burial with a female offering.  The new study shows that no, those were women with swords and brooches -- after all, what Viking warrior woman would go to settle somewhere without her sword and her jewelry?

Sure, that sounds like jest, but I find it hardly surprising in a lot of ways.  I know I can fight with a sword and shield; I also know that there's no way I'd want my other half to go off to colonise another country without me.  And dammit, I'd want my brooches and my sword, especially if the brooches were being used to hold my clothes on.  Which they were:

10th Century Woman's Oval Brooches found in Suffolk, England.  British Museum.  Viking Bling!

Revival clothing -- brooches in place!  (Link:  http://www.revivalclothing.com/10th-11thcearlymedievalvikingaprondress.aspx )

So, back to Freydís Eiríksdóttir, one of a potentially more prevalent breed.  She was the daughter of Eric the Red and one of those colonists to go to Vinland -- that part of Canada that her brother, Lief Eiríksson, discovered.

She went out there in the early 11th Century with her husband.  The natives, called Skraelings in the Sagas, seemed to be interested in trade at first.  The Skraelings tolerated the Viking squatters and traded animal furs for strips of red fabric as the natives had no method of creating red fabric dyes at that time.  As the Viking settlers ran out of cloth, the natives still wanted to trade, but the Vikings had nothing left -- except cow's milk.

Cue the cultural misunderstanding that is lactose intolerance.  The Skraelings believed they'd been poisoned and this soured relations between the people for several years.  This became compounded by a bull escaping and roaring around the locality before the Vikings could get it back into it's pen.  The Skraelings ran, terrified by the monster and weren't seen for three weeks, when they returned in force.

 Although I'm fairly certain they didn't know about lactose intolerance during this time period, the saga of Erik the Red was written down between 1387 - 1394.  This is what it looks like -- The Flateyjarbók (The Flatley Book).

They rowed up the river, outnumbering the Vikings, brandishing their staves and howling.  The Vikings stood their ground.  They bared shields on the shoreline and prepared for battle.  However, the Skraelings had slings and pole weapons that flung projectiles that caused terrible damage and made terrifying noises when they struck the shore.  The Vikings had no reach; they were outnumbered and were fighting a battle on all sides.  They did the only sensible thing -- they tried to use geography.  They retreated, pulling the battle into "certain crags", creating a bottleneck and forcing fighting from only one or two positions and reducing enemy contact, despite being outnumbered.

Sadly, Freydís Eiríksdóttir was in the camp and heavily pregnant.  She couldn't keep up with the retreat.  As she saw the way the battle was retreating, she called out:

"Why run you away from such worthless creatures, stout men that ye are, when, as seems to me likely, you might slaughter them like so many cattle? Let me but have a weapon, I think I could fight better than any of you."  (Saga of Erik the Red)

She was left behind, so she tried to catch up to them through the woods.  All she found was the body of a fellow Viking, Thorbrand, with a stone lodged in his skull... but he'd been carrying a sword.  She grabbed the sword, stopped running and prepared to defend herself.  As the Skraelings came upon her, she let out a battle cry, bared her breast and struck it with the flat of the sword.  The Skraelings fled, likely terrified of the fierce, definitely female and definitely pregnant being in front of them.  I can't say I blame them as an armed, angry, topless pregnant Viking woman fighting for survival would be a truly terrifying opponent.

Freydís Eiríksdóttir:  Officially a better fighter than any of the chaps in the above picture from The Flatley Book.  Even though they weren't even in the same saga.

The Viking men came back after the Skraelings fled, praising her for her battle zeal, though I'm fairly sure she was thinking "what choice did I have?".  Two Vikings and four Skraelings died in the battle, which were certainly not the last deaths on either side.

After this point, Freydís was known for a level of bravery -- until more expeditions went out.  The second expedition had two boats, with one of them sinking in bad weather.  There was no loss of life; however, that meant there were two crews on one ship and half the provisions.  In a fit of cold logic, she ordered everyone on the first ship to kill everyone who'd been on the second.  They complied, but the men refused to kill unarmed women.  Of course, Freydís had no problem with that and cut the heads off the five women on the second boat.  Grim.  They reached land.  They fought the natives.  They left again.  The sagas do not state whether or not anyone starved to death; for that kind of sacrifice, you have to hope not.

She then led a third expedition herself, partnering up with two brothers and her husband.  She was pretty manipulative and made sure she and her husband got the bigger boat, as well as hiding five more men on her boat than she'd agreed with the brothers.  The brothers fell out with her to the point that two camps were formed once they'd reached Vinland.  She then swore that the brothers assaulted her, so the men of her camp attacked and killed everyone in the other camp, except, again, the men refused to kill unarmed women.  She and her axe saw to it that the women were killed.  She then bade that no one tell of what happened on their return home.

She allegedly lived to an old age, dying of natural causes; a rich outcast, but an outcast, nevertheless.  Now, I'm aware that this saga wasn't written with all the facts of each situation.  I'm aware that winners write the histories and the outcasts are never the winners.  I still can't help but hope that bad press is the major source for the last two paragraphs, but I doubt it is.  Why couldn't she stay the badass Viking warrior that took on the Skraelings whilst she was pregnant?   Then again, badass Viking warriors are rarely known for their mercy...

References:
More Female Viking Invaders Than Previously Thought Sources here.
And here.

Canterbury Tales

I had one of the pages from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales appear in my feed, so it's compelled me to go off and do more research as the artwork is truly stunning.  It's odd; I remember being in class reading through it all in 11th Grade AP English, being actually quite bored by it, but I think that part of the problem was that we were focusing solely on the stories, not the art or the social importance of the piece.  I'm a bit sad that I decided that "Mr. Cliff and his notes" would be an awesome shortcut, but then again, what do you know when you're 16, you're in High School, and your love of your life has just broken up with you after three months?  How times change...

Anyhow, here are some awesome pictures I've dug up from various places online.  The first page of the tales is quite gorgeous and actually, very readable given it's in archaic English:

"Ere begynneth the book of tales of Canterburye compiled by Geffraie Chaucer of Brytayne chef poete"

Although Chaucer wrote his tales between 1387 and 1400, this is a copy of his tales made around 1450.  Sadly, according to the British Library, no copies exist today that Chaucer wrote himself.  However, the fact that at least 80 copies from the 15th century do still exist points to his works being incredibly popular.

They were popular for many reasons.  Firstly, he wrote about a cross-section of society from dyers to nuns and it was a work of social commentary, which always grabs attention.  He also chose to write the stories in English, which was pretty rare in England at that time.  The ruling classes spoke French seeing as the Normans had invaded a few centuries before, with the normal, everyday classes speaking English.  This is probably another reason it was popular -- it was actually the language many people spoke.

A picture of Chaucer as a pilgrim from the Ellesmere Manuscript.  "Heere Bigynneth Chaucers Tale of Melibee" 

That's not to say that people were particularly literate, but that is to say that English was a popular spoken language in England (who'd've thought it?).  As this was one of the first times that the English language had been written down for this purpose post-invasion, Chaucer also got a chance to sculpt it and capture it, showing that different classes spoke in different manners.  What I really like though is the portraits of some of the people telling the tales.  The Prioress, for example is really quite a beautiful illumination:

I also like the Ellesmere version of the Man of Law, however it's smudged now, sadly:

I still find it beautiful.  I think I'm going to end up doing a few posts about this one...

De Arte Venandi Cum Avibus

Sometimes you see something interesting that leads you down a path of research that you didn't intend.  This totally happened today and I ended up googling De Arte Venandi Cum Avibus (On The Art of Hunting with Birds), a medieval treatise on ornithology and falconry.  Written in the 1240s by Frederick II of Sicily, it now exists in two forms as the original was lost in 1248 during the siege of Parma.  One form is a six-book version, the other is a two book version, which is an illuminated manuscript.

And it is gorgeous:

Sure, that's not necessarily one of the more spectacular illuminations in terms of medieval bling, but what I'm taken by is the sheer simplicity as well as the really nice layout.  That is a work of talent.  It also shows some of the hawking pouches that I make, which is nice too.

The book itself contains around 500 illustrations of about 80 different species of bird, some in flight:

Some being attended by falconers:

Some in the middle of eating the ears off a rabbit:

(Thank you, Wikipedia!)

Frederick wrote this book with the intention of sharing some of his scientific knowledge in terms of breeding and handling.  He did experimentation with eggs and how they hatched.  He also wrote "Whoever wants to learn the art of hunting with birds to be able to feed them, keep them, tame them, take them, teach them to hunt other birds sent them to hunt and, if necessary, treat, must unite, the quality which will be indicated, science (the theoretical and practical knowledge) contained in this work."  He was a big believer in doing things right.

I've not been able to find any single place online that holds all the illustrations, nor anywhere that holds a translation, sadly.  However, there is a Latin copy of just the text here:  http://www.scribd.com/doc/20486846/De-Arte-Venandi-Cum-Avibus-1, although my basic High School Latin fails after a sentence and a half, sadly.  Still, if anyone would like to spend out on a translated copy, there's one available on Amazon with the original pictures too.  It's 768 pages long and quite some money:


I know it's expensive, but I'm still not convinced that it's not worth it.  I should probably go have a word with myself about that...  

Medieval Limp Bindings

I work as a lecturer in Graphic Design and as such I have an interest in different methods of publication and book binding.  During research, I came across some beautiful examples of medieval limp binding, a method of binding a manuscript to a limp cover of vellum  or similar material in order to provide a lightweight cover.

It's pretty hard to know how often this binding was used for definite as the style is generally seen as being cheaper and more ephemeral than other "proper" bindings.  We do know that limp binding was used in the 14th & 15th centuries and that it became a quite popular style in the 16th century, with some library collections having over 50% of their works bound in this fashion thanks to the efforts of scholar-publishers.  By the 17th century, however, the style was in decline.  I've yet to find a reason as to why, but one can speculate that changing print processes were likely having an effect on book production and binding methods.

Still, it's a nice little style of book to make and one of the easier binding techniques for documents, perfect for your average SCA/re-enactor/LARPer types.  I've made a couple in the past but have never been hugely pleased with the results due to the paper stock and the leather being a wee bit too limp, so looking at these older manuscripts is giving me a shove to make nicer feeling books with better stock and better leather.

One of the examples that stood out for me was a limp binding with a linen cloth cover, held by the National Library of Sweden.

It's a document from 1451-1452, which is simply referred to as the Vadstena Observance.  Vadstena was a monastery so it's fairly safe to say that this is a religious document.  It has three seals -- but unfortunately the information at source is pretty lacking (source is here).  The inside is pretty stunning though, given that it's a limp bound manuscript, bound only in linen:

It's a simple way of binding things.  I can't help but feel that these books are meant for use; a copy meant for wear, rather than a library reference, which would be the grander version of the manuscript that you'd want to keep nice.  Some of the records from 14th and 15th century convent libraries certainly agree as most of these books were in the hands of the nuns, with only 9% of the books in the library being limp bound.  That doesn't mean these books weren't of value though.  They still contained information and have even been documented as being taken as part of the spoils of war, such as this one:

It's not much to look at, until you look at the reinforced leather spine:

...and of course, the manuscript itself:

It's also in the National Library of Sweden, listed as being from 1398.  They believe it was part of the spoils of the sacking of Prague in 1648.  I just wish I knew what it said...

In doing the research for this entry, I also found a really cool little website by a lady who is putting the limp binding technique into practice based on actual historic pieces.  She's a few interesting comments on putting the theory into practice.  I also came across http://www.textmanuscripts.com, which is a site that sells manuscripts privately.  My favourite of their current stock is a processional with musical notation from Northern Italy, made between 1450-1500.  The exterior is just plain vellum with no design, saving for some gilt lettering down the spine that reads "Uffiziolo Francescano, sec. XV."  The interior, however, is gorgeous:

This processional contains multiple forms of burial services for friars, the laity and also for children.  Because everything is in the masculine form, it's believed it was created as a book for use by Franciscan friars.  It is a working book, not a reference book.

Either way, it took someone of talent to put something like this together.