The Star of Salvation, an unknown Franciscan devotional dialogue in Italian with a lost sister copy in Croatia

Fifty-two discoveries from the BiblioPhilly project, No. 4/52


Stella di Salute, Philadelphia, Free Library of Philadelphia, Lewis E 205, fol. 1r (introductory rubric with the name of the author and date of composition)

John Frederick Lewis’ wonderful collection of two hundred Western Medieval codices, dozens of non-European manuscripts, and thousands of cuttings and single leaves is justly famous. This outstanding ensemble has been housed at the Free Library of Philadelphia since it was gifted to the institution by John Frederick’s widow, Anne Baker Lewis, in 1933. Four years later, the two hundred codices were the subject of a summary catalogue authored by Edwin Wolf.[1] And yet the Free Library is home to more than fifty additional manuscripts, which were somewhat confusingly given “Lewis E” shelfmarks of 201 and above, that made their way to the Rare Book Department on the third floor of Parkway Central Library by other means. Because they were not published in the 1937 catalogue, these manuscripts are generally less well-known. Some, including the subject of today’s post, were in fact acquired earlier; in this case, through the William Pepper Fund seven years prior to the Lewis donation, in 1926.

This book, Lewis E 205, consists of an unpublished Italian devotional treatise, composed in question-and-answer form, entitled the Stella di Salute (Star of Salvation). The author, as stated in the introductory rubric (fol. 1r), is a Franciscan friar from the province of the Marche by the name of Santi de Bon Cor (unless this was a convenient pen name!). The text was composed, according to the rubric, on the twenty-fifth day of February, 1450. It is unclear whether the present copy is contemporary or slightly later in date; its script and style of decoration appear to be from the mid-fifteenth century. The book is written in an elegant, Southern Textualis or Rotunda script. The colophon on fol. 205v states that the scribe’s name was Faustino, unfortunately a rather common first name in fifteenth-century Italy.


Stella di Salute, Philadelphia, Free Library of Philadelphia, Lewis E 205, fol. 250v (colophon with the name of the scribe, Faustino)

5507_0004_web

The text begins with an illuminated first page containing a historiated initial S depicting a haloed bishop, though it is unclear who this might be intended to represent. A manuscript with the same text and with a similar number of folios, but apparently with more lavish decoration, is listed in Hans Folnesics’ survey of illuminated manuscripts in Dalmatia.[2] In Folsesics’ corpus, which was published in 1917, the sister manuscript is described as being housed in the library of the State Italian College of Zadar (Gimnasio superiore di Zara), at a time when Zadar was still part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Today, of course, Zadar is in the Republic of Croatia, but throughout the Middle Ages and early modern period it was closely linked to the Eastern coast of Italy and the Marche region via the Adriatic. Interestingly, the Zadar manuscript’s opening miniature is described as being quite a bit more complex, showing the Franciscan author embracing the bow of a ship named “gentil navicella,” upon which the figure of a woman stands, holding a rosary and pointing upwards to the Redeemer. If any readers are aware of the present-day location of this related manuscript, please do let us know!


[1] Edwin Wolf, A. S. W. Rosenbach, and Richard W. Ellis, A descriptive catalogue of the John Frederick Lewis collection of European manuscripts in the Free library of Philadelphia (Philadelphia: Free Library of Philadelphia, 1937).
[2] Hans Folsenics, Die illuminierten Handschriften in Dalmatien (Leipzig: Hiersemann, 1917), p. 50

The identification of a Spanish patron for a neglected Book of Hours

Fifty-two discoveries from the BiblioPhilly project, No. 3/52

http://openn.library.upenn.edu/Data/0007/lehigh_codex_019/data/web/6689_0012_web.jpg
Book of Hours, Use of Rome, Bethlehem, PA, Lehigh University, Linderman Library, Codex 19, fol. 3r

Lehigh University’s small but excellent collection of Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts deserves to be better known–and soon will be thanks to the Bibliotheca Philadelphiensis digitization project! Only the first sixteen of the university’s manuscripts to be acquired were described (and briefly at that) in Seymour de Ricci’s Census of medieval and renaissance manuscripts in the United States and Canada (1935–1940); later acquisitions were not listed in the supplement to the census published in 1962. In 1970, the young John C. Hirsh (now a professor of English at Georgetown University), who received his doctorate from Lehigh that very year, organized an exhibition of the manuscripts and published a short guidebook to them, which was the first attempt at a complete checklist: Western Manuscripts of the Twelfth through the Sixteenth Centuries in Lehigh University Libraries: A Guide to the Exhibition.

The 1970 exhibition provided some new information about Lehigh’s manuscripts, but nothing like a comprehensive catalog, and there remains much research to be done on this collection. A case in point is Lehigh Codex 19, a Book of Hours of the Use of Rome described by Hirsh as a “15th-century manuscript on vellum, written in France.” A closer examination of the manuscript in fact reveals that it was produced in Flanders for export to Spain, a phenomenon that was quite widespread in the fifteenth and early-sixteenth centuries (and another example of which may be the famous Collins Hours at the Philadelphia Museum of Art).[1]

To begin with, the coat-of-arms visible on fol. 3r, nestled amidst a charming “Ghent-Bruges”-style border more typical of Flanders in the early sixteenth century, is identifiable as that of the Ayala family of Toledo, Spain: Argent, two wolves passant sable in pale, a bordure gules charged with eight saltires or (in Spanish, “En campo de plata, dos lobos de sable, uno sobre otro; bordura de gules, con ocho aspas de oro”). The Ayala de Toldeo family was prominent in royal affairs in Spain around the turn of the sixteenth century, having been awarded the Duchy of Fuensalida by Henry IV of Castile in 1470.[2] While the book contains no further information as to the exact original owner of the book, an examination of the Ayala dynasty allows us to posit a number of potential candidates, either among the sons and daughters of Pedro López de Ayala II, whose death in 1486 probably occurred before the book was made, or among the children of Alfonso de Silva y Ayala, perhaps Pedro López de Ayala IV, who died in 1537.

 


Family tree drawn from Juan Ramon Palencia Herrejón, “Elementos Simbólicos de Poder de la Nobleza urbana en Castilla: los Ayala de Toledo al final del Medievo,” En la España medieval 18 (1995): 177 (article pp. 163–180)

The imposing Ayala residence in Toledo, the Palacio de Fuensalida, survives today as the headquarters of the presidency of Castilla-La Mancha. The building’s interior and facade are emblazoned with the coat-of-arms found in our Book of Hours.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9e/Palacio_de_Fuensalida._Toledo.jpg   Palacio de Fuensalida 000.jpg
Exterior facade and interior courtyard of the Palacio de Fuensalida, Toledo, Spain

Other evidence of our manuscript’s intended use and eventual presence in Spain abounds. The manuscript contains Castilian rubrics for a series of fifteen unusual prayers that appear to be associated with Giles of Rome (lived ca. 1243–1316; fols. 109r-181v), and an inquisition verification inscription on fol. 181v, dated to 1573.

http://openn.library.upenn.edu/Data/0007/lehigh_codex_019/data/web/6689_0224_web.jpg   http://openn.library.upenn.edu/Data/0007/lehigh_codex_019/data/web/6689_0369_web.jpg
Lehigh University, Linderman Library, Codex 19, fols. 190r and 181v

By coincidence, another manuscripts preserved in the region, at The Rosenbach Library and Museum, also contains a (previously identified) coat-of-arms of this same family. Rosenbach MS 482/2, a Spanish translation of De regimine principum produced around the year 1500, includes the Ayala de Toldeo arms in the bottom right hand corner of folio 18r. Interestingly, this treatise on the conduct of princes was originally written by Giles of Rome, the author to whom some of the prayers in the Lehigh Book of Hours seem to be connected. Might there be an Ayala family preference at play here?

http://openn.library.upenn.edu/Data/0028/ms_482_002/data/web/6279_0040_web.jpg
De regimine principum, The Rosenbach Library and Museum, MS 482/2, fol. 18r, with detail of Ayala coat-of-arms below compared to that in Lehigh Codex 19

  


[1] For this phenomenon see Javier Docampo Capilla, “Horas Scriptas / Horas de Enprenta: Producción y Comercio de Libros de Horas En La Península Ibérica,” in Del Autor Al Lector: El Comercio y Distribución Del Libro Medieval y Moderno, ed. Manuel José Pedraza Gracia, Carlos Yolanda San Román, and Nicolás Bas Martín (Zaragoza: Prensas de la Universidad de Zaragoza, 2017), 15–36; and idem, “La importación de manuscritos iluminados y su influencia en la miniatura de la Península Ibérica: 1470-1570,” in La miniatura medieval en la Península Ibérica, ed. Joaquin Yarza Luaces (Murcia: Nausicaa, 2007), 255–311.
[2] For this family, see Juan Ramon Palencia Herrejón, “Elementos Simbólicos de Poder de la Nobleza urbana en Castilla: los Ayala de Toledo al final del Medievo,” En la España medieval 18 (1995): 163–180; and idem, Los Ayala de Toledo: desarrollo e instrumentos de poder de un linaje nobiliario en el siglo XV (Toledo: Concejalía de Cultura, 1996).

The prior provenance of one of the first medieval manuscripts to arrive in Philadelphia

Fifty-two discoveries from the BiblioPhilly project, No. 2/52


Traictie des VII fruis de tribulacion, Philadelphia, The Library Company of Philadelphia, Ms. 18 875.Q, fol. 1r

The Library Company of Philadelphia is justly famous for being the first successful lending library in the western hemisphere, and one of North America’s oldest cultural institutions. And while the Library’s headquarters on Locust Street houses an unparalleled collection of books and manuscripts relating to early American history, few are aware that it is also home to about thirty Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts. Several of these are exceptional not, primarily, for their content, but for the early date at which they arrived on American shores. Manuscripts known to have been present in American collections before the turn of the nineteenth century are vanishingly rare, and the paths by which they crossed the Atlantic remain relatively understudied.

A good example of this phenomenon is a late-fifteenth-century manuscript that contains an unpublished devotional text in French, the Traictie des VII fruis de tribulacion or Treatise on the Seven Fruits of Tribulation, written by a member of the Celestine order, an offshoot of the Benedictines founded by Pope Celestine V. The manuscript itself contains a single, heavily damaged opening miniature representing a kneeling layman in prayer before Saint Michael, Saint James (or possibly Saint Roch), and a bishop saint. The unidentified coat-of-arms below it has been erased and crudely re-drawn, frustrating our ability to identify the figure represented in the scene above. The preceding flyleaf contains a later ownership inscription, perhaps dating to circa 1600, also in French, that has unfortunately been partially effaced and rendered illegible, though the somewhat earlier, elaborate, late-Gothic penwork below it is clearly readable as “L’an mil cinq cens et trente huit,” or, the year fifteen-thirty-eight.


Traictie des VII fruis de tribulacion, Philadelphia, The Library Company of Philadelphia, Ms. 18 875.Q, unnumbered flyleaf recto

The manuscript is of special interest to Philadelphians because it once belonged to the pioneering bibliophile William Mackenzie (July 1758–1828), who bequeathed the little book to the Loganian Library, later the Library Company of Philadelphia, in 1828. As Edwin Wolf stated, at the time of his death, Mackenzie possessed “by far the most valuable collection of antiquarian and modern books up to then gathered by an American.”[1] The diminutive Traicitie des VII fruis can be found in the first Catalogue of the books belonging to the Loganian library, published in 1837. But the manuscript’s rather unusual title has facilitated the identification of this very volume in a Parisian auction catalog of 1785 (De Bure, Catalogue des livres rare et précieux de M. …. [d’Hess], Paris, 7 March 1785, lot 35).

https://books.google.com/books/content?id=6zARAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA14&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&sig=ACfU3U1MJfmeh2A3zrpy9xYqp3VWdvf4Qw&ci=127%2C563%2C786%2C264&edge=0

This was the sale of Joseph-Louis, Baron d’Heiss, the ambassador of the Palatine Elector in Paris. According to a recent Christie’s sale catalogue the Baron “ruined himself through extravagant book acquisitions and was forced to sell his library in 1781 for 100,000 livres to Antoine-Rene d’Argenson, marquis de Paulmy (1722-1787), founder of the Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal…. Able to pay off his debts, but bereft of his library, d’Heiss began to collect again, and in the next few years formed a second library, which was dispersed in his anonymous sale by de Bure.” Throughout the multiple sales of his collection, detailed here in an excellent blog post by Jean-Paul Fontaine, he preferred to remain anonymous, noted only as “M. le Baron d’***,” though his identity may have been an open secret to those in the know.

We do not know how rapidly Mackenzie purchased the manuscript following the sale, nor if he knew anything of its prior provenance. Little is known about William Mackenzie’s life, aside from his book collecting, though he apparently did not travel much beyond Philadelphia. The publication that accompanied a 1995 exhibition held at the Library Company, entitled William Mackenzie: America’s First Book Collector, provides some further information,[2] as does the entry in the American National Biography, which recalls that:

The dispersal of hundreds of monastic and aristocratic libraries during the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars created an unprecedented opportunity for collectors such as Mackenzie, who were able to acquire a far greater amount of much older and rarer material on the open market than had previous generations. While few sources for Mackenzie’s purchases have been identified, it is known that he bought at local bookstores…. Trade between Europe and the United States had resumed in 1784, so by the following year the acquisition of such a book would have been feasible, though presumably an intermediary was used…. It is likely that he had a European agent looking out for his interests.[3]

Whether Mackenzie acquired the book directly from this sale via an agent in Europe, or through the intermediary of an American bookseller such as Thomas Dobson (1751–1823), is difficult to ascertain. Nevertheless, the Library Company manuscript represents an extremely early example of an (admittedly modest) object from a major European aristocratic collection being purchased by a New World collector, preceding the large-scale American interest in medieval manuscripts by a century or more.


[1] Edwin Wolf II, “Great American Book Collectors to 1800,” Gazette of the Grolier Club 16 (June 1971), 23.
[2] William Mackenzie, America’s first rare book collector (Philadelphia: Library Company of Philadelphia, 1994). See also Bourke, Monica, “Exhibit Review: ‘William Mackenzie: America’s First Book Collector,’ The Library Company of Philadelphia” Pennsylvania History 62.3 (1995), 402–406.
[3] Nipps, Karen, 2000, “Mackenzie, William (1758-1828), bibliophile and book collector” in American National Biography. Accessed 3 Mar. 2019.

An unpublished, autograph booklet by Jean Lemaire de Belges, presented to the Queen of France on New Year’s day 1512

Fifty-two discoveries from the BiblioPhilly project, No. 1/52

  
Lemaire de Belges, Jean, 1473-1524 – Pronosticque historial de la félicité future de l’an mil cincq cens et douze, Philadelphia, The Rosenbach Museum and Library, MS 232/11, fols. 1v-2r

Our series begins auspiciously with a long-lost royal prognostication on the good fortune of the year to come, the Pronosticque historial de la félicité future de l’an mil cincq cens et douze, or, translated roughly into English, the Exemplified foretelling of the future joy of the year fifteen-hundred-and-twelve. This sixteen-folio manuscript, written and signed by the important Walloon poet and historiographer Jean Lemaire de Belges (c. 1473–c. 1525), is an autograph copy produced for the Queen of France, Anne of Brittany (1477–1514). The text is otherwise unknown, and its rediscovery in the collections of The Rosenbach Museum and Library makes for an important addition to the author’s corpus while providing new information about the literary leanings of its famed recipient. Anne, to whom the work is dedicated, was an extraordinary political leader and a great patroness of the arts. She has the distinction of being the only French sovereign to have been twice crowned, first as the wife of King Charles VIII and then, after his sudden death in 1498, as the consort of Charles’ successor and second cousin once removed, Louis XII.

https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b550093038/f11.highresGrandes Heures d’Anne de Bretagne (Great Hours of Anne of Brittany), Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms lat. 9474, portrait of Anne in prayer, fol. 3r

Philadelphia in fact preserves numerous manuscript artifacts related to Anne and her husbands: the Free Library of Philadelphia houses the beautiful February, June, August, and September calendar pages from a grand Book of Hours made by the court painter Jean Bourdichon for Louis XII in 1498, while a single leaf fragment with a miniature of the Lamentation by Jean Poyer includes, on its reverse side, an inscription identified by Roger Wieck as possibly being in Anne’s own hand.[1] The FLP also houses a manuscript with an unusual binding decorated with the ermine tail, one of Anne’s emblems, and a (previously unnoticed) fragment from the once-impressive choirbooks commissioned by Anne and Louis,[2] bearing their initials and emblems. Anne’s library has been the subject of some excellent recent scholarship,[3] and this new find helps to enrich our knowledge even further.

As mentioned above, the present manuscript is the sole surviving exemplar of an unpublished text apparently unknown to specialists. Its most detailed prior mention occurs in the Report of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts of 1876, when it was in the collection of Evelyn Philip Shirley (1812-1882) of Ettington Hall, Warwickshire (where, incidentally, scenes from the 1963 film The Haunting were filmed). It was presumably Shirley who brought the manuscript to the British Museum to have it inspected by Keeper of Manuscripts John Holmes (1800-1854), whose handwritten notes are found in the front flyleaves of the manuscript. Previously, it had been in the collection of Walter Henry Bracebridge (d. 1832). It is not immediately clear how the manuscript ended up with A.S.W. Rosenbach in Philadelphia. Despite being present in prominent collections, the book has escaped mention in the voluminous literature dedicated to Lemaire de Belges, being noted briefly only in Paul Oskar Kristeller’s Iter Italicum. As such, I am currently at work on a critical edition of the short text, to be published in the not-too-distant future.

But what does this unusual text actually say? As a prominent court poet, Lemaire de Belges was renowned for creating “poésies de circonstance” or short works intended to address a particular situation. In this case, he addressed the auspicious numerological circumstances of the year 1512. The first page opening includes the queen’s Castilian motto “NON MUDERA” inherited from her Spanish mother (and also seen below, on the right, in the most splendid book she owned, the Grandes Heures d’Anne de Bretagne), as well as the year in Roman numerals. These insriptions are contained in two red banderoles, which frame a star-like emblem with a cypher containing the letters of ANNA BONA (good Anne/good year).

  
MS 232/11, fol. 1v and Grandes Heures d’Anne de Bretagne (Great Hours of Anne of Brittany), Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, ms lat. 9474, emblem of Anne of Brittany on final flyleaf, fol. 238r

The book’s prologue consists of a pompous justification as to why a historian like Lemaire de Belges ought to engage in prognostication, traditionally the realm of soothsayers and astrologists. The first main section of the text (fols. 5v-8r) consists of examples from ancient and modern history demonstrating the universality and preeminence of the number twelve (“universalité et preeminence du nombre de douze”). The second section (fols. 8v-10v) draws parallel examples of duodecimal supremacy from the sacred scriptures. A conclusion (fols. 11r-15v) draws together both strands while explaining the palindrome-like pun, visualized in the opening emblem, of ANNA BONA (“good Anne”) being a pseudo-anagram of BON AN (“good year,” in French). A helpful colophon (fol. 15v, see image below) tells us that the short text was written in Paris at the beginning of January, 1512. It is subscribed by a large rendition of Lemaire de Belges’ personal motto, “De peu assez,” (In little, enough), in sputtering red ink. Finally, the text is accompanied by a rhyming “double virelay” (fols. 16r-16v), also unpublished, consisting of two twelve-line stanzas, signed by the author at its conclusion (fol. 16v):

6541_0043_web   6541_0045_web
MS 232/11, collophon (fol. 15v) and signature of Lemaire (fol. 16v)

Lemaire de Belges and his contemporaries were fond of word play, complex rhymes, and clever layouts. In fact, another manuscript in Philadelphia, quite damaged and certainly not an autograph copy by its author, contains a similarly virtuoso device in praise of Queen Anne. The University of Pennsylvania’s partial copy of Le vray-disant, advocate des dames (UPenn Ms. Codex 956), written in the same years by Lemaire de Belges’ contemporary Jean Marot, includes a “Ballade de la Paragonne des Dames” in which the letters at the start of each line spell the Queen’s name and title: ANNE DE BRETAIGNE, ROYNE DE FRANCE. This kind of acrostic device was especially popular with the French rhétoriqueurs of the early sixteenth century. Can you spot this example of word-play in the images below?

Medieval & Renaissance Manuscripts Collection: Ms. Codex 956 - Marot, Jean, 1463-1523 - [La vray-disant, advocate des dames]   Medieval & Renaissance Manuscripts Collection: Ms. Codex 956 - Marot, Jean, 1463-1523 - [La vray-disant, advocate des dames]
Marot, Jean, 1463-1523 – [La vray-disant, advocate des dames], Philadelphia, UPenn Ms. Codex 956, fols. 9r-9v


[1] See Roger S. Wieck, “The Artist Jean Poyet and His Oeuvre,” in The Hours of Henry VIII: A Renaissance Masterpiece by Jean Poyet, ed. Roger S. Wieck, William M. Voelkle, and K. Michelle Hearne (New York: George Braziller, 2000), 27–29.
[2] For an otherwise comprehensive list of known fragments, see Christopher De Hamel, Gilding the Lilly: A Hundred Medieval and Illuminated Manuscripts in the Lilly Library (Bloomington: Lilly Library, 2010), no.83, 183.
[3] Cynthia J. Brown, ed., The Cultural and Political Legacy of Anne de Bretagne: Negotiating Convention in Books and Documents (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2010); Cynthia J. Brown, The Queen’s Library: Image-Making at the Court of Anne of Brittany, 1477-1514 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010).

Fifty-two discoveries from the BiblioPhilly project: An Introduction

March 2019-March 2020 (with a weekly post every Friday morning at 6AM EST)

The Bibliotheca Philadelphiensis project has provided the opportunity to spend some two and a half years examining nearly five hundred wonderfully diverse manuscripts produced before the year 1600, and now preserved in the great codicological metropolis that is Philadelphia. This ambitious project has led to innumerable discoveries great and small by the team of scholars tasked with cataloguing this vast ensemble. Because the manuscripts in question hail from sixteen collections of differing size and scope (see a map of participating institutions here), the existing descriptions we had to work from varied considerably. In many cases, we were able to build on existing published and unpublished catalogues, but in other cases, scholarly descriptions of manuscripts were non-existent. Manuscripts ranged from the very famous, to those that were essentially identified and located as a result of this very project. However, we make use of the term “discovery” here cautiously, since we are well aware that others (beginning with the very scribes and illuminators responsible for making the manuscripts!) may indeed have previously deduced some of the facts presented in the following posts. Still, we’ve attempted to produce a selection of exciting or unexpected findings made during the course of our study and not otherwise recorded or published. Many of these findings have been enabled by new digital tools, searchable digitized full-text publications, new research on regional schools of book production and illumination undertaken over the past few decades, and good old-fashioned detective work.

Our hope is that by publicizing these discoveries on the internet, by publishing the most significant ones in print, and by including much of this information in our rich metadata, we will in turn facilitate the recognition of these hidden gems by interested researchers around the world. We also hope that some of the discoveries will form the basis for an exhibition in the near future, and, further out on the horizon, a comprehensive multi-institution print catalogue of Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts in Philadelphia-area collections.

This series will occur in no particular order, and is based on observations made between October 2016 and March 2019 by Nicholas Herman with guest contributions by co-catalogers Dot Porter, Amey Hutchins, Erin Connelly, Oliver Mitchell, and Judith Weston.

 

Nicholas Herman

Curator of Manuscripts

Schoenberg Institute for Manuscript Studies

University of Pennsylvania