It struck me increasingly hard as I reached the end of my last post that I didn’t really know the history of astronomical volvelles in manuscripts. That is, pretty much all the astronomical volvelles I’d actually seen images of were either in incunabula or were from the 16th century (printed books or otherwise). For example, while revisiting Regiomontanus recently, I noted that his 1476 printed Kalendario contained volvelles. But what about volvelles in 14th and 15th century manuscripts?

Looking for useful sources, I found Jessica Helfand’s (2006) “Reinventing the Wheel“: though probably unlikely to be of precise relevance to what I’m looking for, it does look like a fun read. But then I found Gianfranco Crupi…

Gianfranco Crupi

My search for the history of manuscript astronomical volvelles only began properly when I stumbled upon Gianfranco Crupi’s (2019) “Volvelles of knowledge. Origin and development of an instrument of scientific imagination (13th-17th centuries)” in the Italian Journal of Library, Archives, and Information Science (JLIS.it). I’d describe this as a well-illustrated whistlestop tour through the history of volvelles. (And would recommend it as a nice accessible read too. 🙂 )

Crupi cracks crisply onwards from Lull to Matthew Paris’ Chronica Majora to Wheels of Fortune to Alberti’s cipherdisk to Fontana to Trithemius to Della Porta; and then from Regiomontanus’ Kalendario with its remarkably beautiful front page…

…to Petrus Apianus and to the extraordinary Dess Menschen Circkel

…and to Ottavio Pisani’s volvelles. As I mentioned, this is a nice little read. 🙂

As far as astronomical volvelles in manuscripts go, Crupi lists three articles:

Even though Bennett’s article is available online, it only discusses volvelles briefly, and not really in manuscripts at all. And much as I love everything by Owen Gingerich (am I the only person who read his “The Book Nobody Read”?), his 1993 article’s abstract indicates that the primary focus there was on volvelles in printed books, so it is probably not relevant here.

However, because Kremer’s footnotes are online, I was extremely excited to find out from them that he talks extensively about Gotha Chart. A 472 (yes, the same manuscript I mentioned a few days ago). And so it should be no surprise that article is definitely what I want to read next.

Can I therefore ask if any of my lovely Cipher Mysteries readers with institutional access would please be so kind as to send me a copy of Kremer’s JHA article (Sage Journals, accessible via Shibboleth or Open Athens) so that I can continue following this volvelle research strand onwards? Thanks! 🙂

Back in 2006, I argued (in ‘Curse’, pp.58-61) that a series of seven consecutive circular diagrams in the Voynich Manuscript’s Q9 (‘Quire 9’) and Q10 probably represented the seven ‘planets’ of traditional astrology / astronomy.

(Note that the wide Q9 bifolio had been incorrectly rebound at some point in the manuscript’s history, making this sequence far from visually obvious). My argument relied on these observations:

  • The page immediately preceding the set contains a rotated / inverted T-O map (representing the Earth) surrounded by a wolkenband (representing the heavens). Note: we now also know that this strongly parallels a drawing in a high-quality presentation manuscript by Nicolas Oresme.
  • The pages immediately following the set contain a series of zodiac roundels (that we now know seem to have been copied from a 1420s Alsace calendar).
  • The zodiac roundels also seem to be related to Vat Gr 1291, a copy of Ptolemy’s Handy Tables, which I blogged about here.
  • One of the pages in the set contains a sun roundel (f68v1)
  • Another of the pages contains a large moon roundel (f67r1)
  • One of the pages has a 46-way radial symmetry, which eerily coincides with Mercury’s Babylonian 46-year goal year period. (Saturn has a 59-year period, Jupiter a 71-year period, Mars a 79-year period, while the octaeteris was where 8 Earth years correspond to 13 Venus years). It’s not proof that the roundel on f69r is linked to Mercury, but it’s a good start.

But now it’s 2020, and I’m wondering if I can now take this argument up to the next level. This is because some medieval / early modern astronomical manuscripts also contain a series of large circular diagrams corresponding to the seven classical planets. These are known as Theorica Planetarum manuscripts, and their circular diagrams are paper machines – that is, they are rotating volvelles duplicating the Ptolemaic epicycles long used by astronomers and astrologers to approximate the movements of the planets.

Hence the Theorica Planetarum Voynich Manuscript hypothesis is simply the suggestions that the set of seven consecutive circular diagrams in the Voynich Manuscript’s Q9 and Q10 might actually be (in some way) standing in for the circular paper machines in Theorica Planetarum manuscripts.

But to follow this research thread through to its logical end, we will need to know a lot more not only about Theorica Planetarum manuscripts (and their diffusion through Europe), but also about Ptolemaic epicycles, which is what the Theorica Planetarum models were trying to emulate.

Epicycles

In the pre-Copernican time period we’re interested in, the dominant belief (because all the rest was heresy) was that the celestial spheres rotated around the Earth in a perfectly circular manner. Bede’s De Natura Rerum depicted it thus:

Unfortunately, if you were an astronomer and tried to use this model to predict the movements of the wandering ‘planets’ (which back then included the sun and the moon), you’d be quickly disappointed. Because it doesn’t work. Not even close.

The most obvious thing that goes wrong is that planets often appear to be travelling backwards relative to how you would expect to see them move if they were rotating around simply (this is known as ‘retrograde motion’).

To fix this, the Greeks (specifically Hipparchus and Ptolemy) came up with a mathematical trick that instead modelled a planet’s movement as a smaller circle (an “epicycle”) attached to (i.e. offsetting from) a larger circle (a “deferent”). While not perfect, this was a step in the right direction.

Mathematically, you can think of epicycles as a kind of two-term Fourier approximation of a more complex function. And this trick was what astronomers and astrologers were still using more than a millennium later.

Oh, and there was a further trick: even if your epicycles are able to account for retrograde motion, the velocities of the planetary motion were still variable. And so Ptolemy added the idea of the equant, based on observations made by Theon (probably Theon of Smyrna), which offset the (virtual) place of observation to account for variable velocities.

Mathematically, this was a secondary kludge with no basis in anything anyone could point to as an actual reason. In fact, the whole idea of the equant annoyed Copernicus so much that it has been argued he came up with his whole heliocentric system simply to throw equants away.

All the same, the combination of Ptolemy’s equant and a deferent/epicycle per-planet pair proved to be a practical enough solution to the problem of predicting planetary motion, regardless of what Copernicus thought. 😉

Note that some (old-fashioned) astronomy historians asserted that more and more epicycles were added over the centuries to try to make the models better approximate the reality, but this is a myth. It’s true that Copernicus added an extra epicycle per planet, but this was because he was trying to get rid of that pesky equant. The two were essentially the same.

Clockwork Cosmoses

Putting the equant to one side, the epicycle/deferent values reduce to a discussion of ratios:

  • What is the ratio between the deferent period and the solar year?
  • What is the ratio between the deferent period and the epicycle period?
  • What is the ratio between the deferent radius and the epicycle radius?

If you know these values, not only can you calculate tables of planetary positions, but you can also build physical models – both volvelles and clockwork mechanisms.

Famously, the (pre-Ptolemy) Antikythera Mechanism used tricky gearing to model the moon’s anomalous movements. Incidentally, Freeth and Jones (2012) proposed an interesting reconstruction of the rest of the planetary movements in the AK by ‘scaling up’ its tricky lunar gearing.

However, because all other Greco-Roman models are lost to history (despite mentions in Cicero, no extant artefacts are known), we now have to fast-forward to the 14th century, and the Ptolemaic clockwork cosmos of Giovanni Dondi. His astrarium was much seen, described and admired, and in 1381 he gave it to Gian Galeazzo Visconti: it stayed in Pavia till at least 1485. (It seems likely that Leonardo da Vinci saw it). There are a number of modern reconstructions, such as this one which I once saw in Milan:

Helpfully, Giovanni Dondi described his astrarium’s inner workings in his Tractatus astrarii (Padova, Biblioteca Capitolare, Ms. D.39 and one other were by Dondi, but at least ten other manuscript copies exist). There’s a critical edition: Giovanni Dondi dall’ Orologio, Emmanuel Poulle (ed., trans.) (1987–1988) Johannis de Dondis Padovani Civis Astrarium. 2 vols. Opera omnia Jacobi et Johannis de Dondis. [Padova]: Ed. 1+1; Paris: Les Belles Lettres.

Giovanni Dondi’s dial of Venus (fol. 12v)

From this, we know that Dondi designed his astrarium to function according to the 13th century Theorica planetarum of Campanus of Novara (more on him later) and the Alfonsine tables (circa 1272).

Might the Voynich Manuscript’s seven planet pages be not astronomical but simply a copy of the relevant pages of Dondi’s Tractatus astrarii? It’s very possible, but let’s not sink into the murky world of theories just yet. 😉

Theorica Planetarum Gerardi

Olaf Pedersen’s 1981 paper “The Origins of the ‘Theorica Planetarum” notes that the Theorica Planetarum specifically described the motions of the planets: and was much copied because other texts like the Sphaera of Sacrobosco were quite lacking in that respect.

The incipit was “Circulus eccentricus vel egresse cuspidis vel egredientis centri dicitur qui non habet centum suum cum centro mundi“: and Pedersen reports (in 1981) having more than 210 entries on his checklist of copies, which makes it almost as widely circulated as Sacrobosco’s Sphaera.

As to its author, it was widely believed to have been written by Gerard of Cremona (hence you’ll often see it referred to as Theorica Planetarum Gerardi). Regiomontanus called it by this name, though he was aware there was no proof that Gerard had written it – and by Regiomontanus’ time, it had become known as Theorica Planetarum Antiqua.

Pedersen himself came to no conclusion about who actually wrote this, but considered that he knew of nothing that “[invalidated] the assumption that it originated from the hand of a thirteenth-century author”. (p.122)

Campanus of Novara’s Theorica Planetarum

The next Theorica Planetarum to take the medieval stage was by Campanus of Novara (c.1220-1296), and was composed (1261-1264) at broadly the same time as the Theorica Planetarum Gerardi.

This was a very much more solid affair (without a number of the erroneous simplications the other Theorica had included), and included a description of how to make an equatorium. This is essentially a single mater (an astrolabe-like back disk), into which other disk-sets are inserted, one disk-set per planet. This would be cumbersome and impractical, though the equatorium article linked here says: “[I]t is however likely that Campanus envisaged an instrument of gigantic dimensions.”

There’s a critical edition of Campanus’ Theorica Planetarum by Benjamin and Toomer, which I’ve ordered a copy of from America (though I don’t expect it to come anytime soon).

There was also a tidied-up version of Campanus’ work from circa 1320, called “Abbreviatio instrumenti Campani, sive aequatorium” by Johannes de Lineriis (Jean de Linières or Lignières). I’m guessing that Benjamin and Toomer’s book covers this (but I’ll find out when it arrives).

Georg von Peurbach’s Theoricae Novae Planetarum

In many ways, Georg von Peurbach’s much-updated Theoricae Novae Planetarum (1454) was the last hurrah of the Theorica Planetarum genre. Regiomontanus (von Peurbach’s student) even went to immense expense to print his late teacher/mentor’s work in 1472.

Michela Malpangotto’s (2012) article “The Early Manuscripts of Georg von Peuerbach’s Theoricae Novae Planetarum” lists five very interesting early copies of the manuscript, dating from 1454 to the early 1460s:

  • “A” = Vienne, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 5203
  • “B” = Vienne, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 5245
  • “C” = Heiligenkreuz, Stiftbibliothek, Codex Sancrucensis 302
  • “D” = Cracovie, Bibliothèque Jagellonne, B. J. 599
  • “R” = Rimini, Biblioteca Civica Gambalunga, Sc-MS. 27

Here, there are particularly strong relationships between the A/B/C copies, that make it look as though all three were created in 1454 in Vienna.

What About Gotha Chart. A 472?

I discussed this manuscript in my previous post, and I’m sorry to say that I don’t as yet know how this – and by implication the whole Profatius Judaeus thing – fits into the Theorica Planetarum landscape.

Volvelles or Equatorium Inserts?

So here’s one of the many problems to clear up. Campanus’ Theorica Planetarum describes an equatorium, i.e. a series of multi-layer circular inserts that slot into an astrolabe-like mater… not volvelles.

Moreover, even though Georg von Peurbach’s Theoricae Novae Planetarum was printed as volvelles in the 16th century (e.g. the LJS 64 copy I showed the video of before), I’m entirely unsure whether the transition to volvelles there was by Regiomontanus (Regiomontanus certainly had volvelles in his 1474 Calendar) or a later thing.

So, without reading a ton more stuff, I’m entirely unsure whether volvelles (as volvelles, not as equatorium inserts) were found in the Theorica Planetarum genre at all pre-1500.

But these are early days. I’ll blog more as things become clearer. 🙂

While idly flicking through the splendid ex-library copy of Hellmut Lehmann-Haupt’s (1929) “Schwäbische Federzeichnungen” that landed on my doorstep this morning, my eye was drawn to Abb. 52, a drawing from Gotha Chart A 158 (and more on that another time). What is Gotha (and might it be home to Batma?), and how come it has so many wonderful 15th century German books?

Forschungsbibliothek Gotha

According to this page (containing descriptions of many Gotha mss):

The old German manuscripts of the FB Gotha [i.e. Forschungsbibliothek Gotha, now at Uni Erfurt] form one of the last large collections of medieval German-language manuscripts for which no modern scientific index has yet been made available. Its inventory shows the typical profile of a princely collection: it contains numerous literary and illustrated texts, including testimonies of classic Middle High German literature as well as unique pieces such as the verse novel “Reinfried von Braunschweig”. In addition, the entire spectrum of late medieval German literature is represented in Gotha.

The Gotha collection contains plenty of the German manuscripts we’ve been discussing: Der welsche Gast, Andreas Capellanus’ “De amore“, Macer floridus, Feuerwerkbuch von 1420, Ars moriendi, Astrologisch-medizinische Sammelhandschrift, Biblia pauperum, Sachsenspiegel, Minnereden, Parzival, Johannes Hartlieb’s Namenmantik, etc. As far as I can tell, few of these have yet been digitized: not many more have been properly studied.

Basically, Gotha is like the Mars of 15th century manuscripts – distant, little known, but with plenty to study. Time to send a probe down to its surface!

Gotha Chart. A 472

Cutting to the chase, one particular Gotha manuscript really caught my eye: Gotha Chart. A 472 [Handschriftencensus page] [Erfurt catalogue page].

This contains a series of circular volvelles described in Ernst Zinner (1956) “Astronomische Instrumente des 11.-18. Jh.s” (p.153). The catalogue description has the following to say (largely quoting Zinner):

17 disk-shaped diagrams of the instruments are described. These are the theoricae planetarum, first introduced by the astronomer Jakob ben Machir (Profatius Judaeus) around 1300: these are “discs of paper or parchment that rotate over the basic drawing. Threads run from the center point, adjusting the various movements of the planetary volvelles, so that the location marked on the epicyclic disc indicates the correct planet location. One volvelle was constructed for each planet ” [Zinner 1956, p.32]. Fol. 3r-8r have the titles: 3r Circulus orbis signorum, 4r Circulus anni, 5r Circulus Saturni, 5v Circulus Jouis, 6r Circulus Martis, 7r Circulus Veneris, 8r Circulus augum planetarum. 15r and 17v are diagrams without movable attachments. Pages 12r, 22r, 30r, 34r, 39r, 42r, 47r and 52r contain volvelles with multi-part, rotatable attachments, some of which have come loose (now included) though some have been lost. On 39v a thread is inserted into the center of the disc for line drawing; circular holes are in the center of the diagram.

To my eyes, the interesting thing about this is that the Voynich Manuscript’s Quire #9 (‘Q9’) has a super-wide hexfolio, which – if you virtually rebind it along the correct crease, as I discussed in Curse (2006) – contains seven full-page circular diagrams, starting with the Sun and Moon. And even though I have seen many 15th century manuscripts listing the seven ‘wanderers’ on consecutive pages, I had never yet found a 15th century manuscript with a set of full-size circular diagrams for those seven astrological planets.

Until now. So let’s just say I’m suddenly very interested.

The Voynich’s Seven Planets

For reference, here’s what the Voynich Manuscript’s seven planets look like:

In Curse (p.60), I labelled these:

Planet A, Sun, Moon, Planet B
Planet C, Planet D, Planet E

I also noted that the diagram for Planet B comprised 46 radiating lines, which I noted (p.61) matched Mercury’s goal year period of 46 years. But that was as far as I was able to pursue this back in 2006.

Might there be more to find here, possibly even a block paradigm match to be had?

Georg von Peurbach

Now, I also happen to know that Georg von Peurbach created similar epicycle-based volvelles in his Novae Theoricae Planetarum. There’s a really cool online page from the Lawrence J. Schoenberg Collection showing these in action (albeit in a later printed book):

Introduction to University of Pennsylvania Library’s LJS 64

Though LJS 64 was printed in Padua between 1525 and 1575, Georg von Peurbach (1423-1461) wrote his original work back in the 15th century: he was Regiomontanus’ teacher and mentor.

As an aside, I’d previously read the English translation of Zinner’s chunky book on Regiomontanus (which I mentioned here in 2018, in my discussion of nocturnals and f57v): but before now I’d never really considered von Peurbach’s Novae Theoricae Planetarum.

Note that von Peurbach was giving lectures in Italy in 1448 to 1451, so would be a plausible candidate for someone who somehow bridged between German scientific culture and Northern Italian culture at just about the right time and place. So there’s a lot of lines criss-crossing here.

Might all these things be tied together by Gotha Chart. A 472?

Gotha Chart. A 472 Bibliography

The Handschriftencensus page lists three references, the main one of which (Zinner 1956) I have just ordered from America (but don’t expect to see for a fair while, to be honest):

  • Ernst Zinner, Verzeichnis der astronomischen Handschriften des deutschen Kulturgebietes, München 1925, Nr. 9839.
  • Ernst Zinner, Deutsche und niederländische astronomische Instrumente des 11.-18. Jahrhunderts, München 1956, S. 153.
  • Oliver Schwarz, Cornelia Hopf und Hans Stein, Quellen zur Astronomie in der Forschungs- und Landesbibliothek Gotha unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Gothaer Sternwarten (Veröffentlichungen der Forschungs- und Landesbibliothek Gotha 36), Gotha 1998, S. 54. This is also online here.

Meanwhile, I’m also going to contact the curators at FB Gotha to see if they can tell me any more about Chart. A 472. As always, asking is free!

If, like me, you’ve been looking for a nice guide to illustrated manuscripts in the Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg’s Cod. Pal. Germ. collection for a while, you’re in for a bit of a treat here. 🙂

German librarian / book historian Hans Wegener’s (1927) “Beschreibendes Verzeichnis der deutschen Bilder-Handschriften des späten Mittelalters in der Heidelberger Universitäts-Bibliothek” (which you can download from UB Heidelberg here) runs through a (mostly) chronological series of illustrated manuscripts from the library, discussing each one’s writer(s) and (usually unnamed) illustrator(s).

(For reference, the para at the top of its p.10 was where Hans Wegener asserted that the illustrator of Cod. Pal. Germ. 530 also drew the pictures for Staatsbibliothek Eichstätt MS 212, as I mentioned in my last post.)

The easiest way to view all the illustrations is to use UB Heidelberg’s HeidICON tool (there’s a link on the left of each CPG page). There, you can jump straight to a grid of illustrations in that manuscript, i.e. clicking on a thumbnail brings up the full-size picture on the right-hand side.

I went through all the drawings from 1400 to about 1470, and have pasted in some of the most interesting drawings. Enjoy!

1300 to 1400 (for completists only)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 164 – Sächsisches Lehnrecht, Obersächsische Hs., Um 1320

Cod. Pal. Germ. 167 – Landrecht des Sachsenspiegels und des Schwabenspiegels. Niederdeutsche Hs. Hälfte XIV. Jahrh.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 341 – Sammlung kleinerer Gedichte. Oberdeutsche Hs. Mitte XIV. Jahrh.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 53 – Schwabenspiegel. Oberdeutsche Hs. Ende XIV. Jahrh.

1400 (Various)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 329 – Hugo von Montfort: Gedichte und Lieder. [Bayrische Hs. Um 1400.] (just initials)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 14 – H. von Mügeln: „Der meide kränz”. [Bayrische Hs, 1407.] (just initials)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 336 – Enenkels Weltchronik. [Bayrische Hs, Um 1410.]

Quite why this World Chronicle has Alexander talking to a chicken in a bubble underwater I don’t honestly know.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 5 – Wahrsagebuch. [Mitteldeutsche, wohl rheinfränkische Hs, 1400-1420. (Just one drawing)

Where to apply the leeches.
Which is nice.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 330 – Thomasin von Zirklaere: Wälscher Gast. [Bayrische Hs, 1410-1420.]

I discussed cpg330 in this recent post, but it has other interesting images (note that HeidICON has no entries for this!):

Cod. Pal. Germ. 794 – Boner: Edelstein. [Bayrische Hs. 1410-1420]

Lots of frogs here.
Which is nice if you like frogs.

Die elsässische Werkstatt von 1418.

Before Diebold Lauber’s famous workshop, there was another (unnamed) workshop in Alsace, usually referred to as the Werkstatt von 1418.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 27 – Otto von Passau: Vierundzwanzig Alte. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418. 1418.]

One of the few drawings with lots of red-cheeked women.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 144 – Heiligenleben. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418.] (Lots of saints being killed, if you like that kind of thing.)

Not sure what’s up with these demon ducks.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 403 – Heinrich von Veldeke: Eneide. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418.]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 371 – Lanzelot. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418. 1420.] (only two images at the front)

Presumably the scribe himself?

Cod. Pal. Germ. 365 – Ortnit. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418. 1420.] (Only two drawings)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 323 – Rudolph von Ems: Wilhelm von Orlenz. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418. 1420]

An image we’ve discussed before!

Cod. Pal. Germ. 359 – Rosengarten und Lucidarius. [Elsässische Werkstatt von 1418. Um 1420.] (Not particularly interesting drawings)

Another authorial self-portrait

Other Stuff

Cod. Pal. Germ. 432 – Speculum humanae salvationis. [Mittelrheinische Hs. 1420-1430.]

Jonah being swallowed by the whale
Another rare image with lots of womeon

Cod. Pal. Germ. 471 – Hugo von Trimberg: Renner. [Bayrische Hs, 1431.]

Nice baggy sleeves, but ugly hat. 🙂

Cod. Pal. Germ. 148 – Biblia pauperum [ Bayrische Hs, 1430-1440] und Brevier [Bayrische, wohl Eichstätter Hs, Um 1450]

It’s that man Jonah again.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 7 – Wahrsagebuch [Bayrische Hs, 1430-1440]

Ox not in socks, and not in a box.

Die Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau.

I have, of course, discussed Diebold Lauber’s workshop a good number of times before. And UB Heidelberg has plenty of Lauber mss!

Cod. Pal. Germ. 362 – Flore und Blancheflor [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, 1430-1440]

It’s not quite Stockfish vs LC0, but it’ll do nicely.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 324 – Dietrich und seine Gesellen. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440]

It’s that couple again!
Here they are again!
Apparently Diebold Lauber’s Werkstatt invented the High Five

(The next five items form “Deutsche Bibel in 5 Bänden”.)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 19 – Die Bücher Mose, Josua und Richter [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440] (not very interesting drawings)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 20 – Bücher der Könige und Paralipomenon I und IL [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440] (also not very interesting drawings)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 21 – Die Bücher Esra, Nehemia, Tobias, Judith, Esther, Hiob, Psalter, Parabole Ecclesiastes, Cantica, Sapientia und Ecclesiasticus. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440] (again, pretty dull)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 22 – Die Bücher jesaia, Jercmia, Baiiieli, Hesekiel, Daniel und die zwölf kleinen Propheten. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440] (didn’t work for me at all)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 23 – Das Neue Testament [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1440] (nope, the whole set failed to press my buttons)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 300 – Megenberg: Buch der Natur. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, 1440-1450]

Cpg300 contains an old pair of friends, but some other stuff too:

Another image we’ve discussed before!
A crossbowman.
A mermaid, in the page of sea creatures.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 149 – Sieben weise Meister und die Chronik des Martin von Polen. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1450]

Wait… did they just put crowns and a bit of trim on the couple?
Yes, they added a beard to try to mess with your mind.
Wait, no, what?
Now this is getting just plain silly.
Apparently Diebold Lauber invented rock and roll too.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 339 – Parzival. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1450]

Wait, what? Did Diebold Lauber invent bromance too?

Cod. Pal. Germ. 137 – Martin von Polen: Chronik. [Werkstatt des Diebolt Lauber in Hagenau, Um 1460] (dull as ditchwater, unless you really like grinding your way through endless unconvincing drawings of popes)

More Other Stuff

Cod. Pal. Germ. 311 – Megenberg: Buch der Natur [Mittelrhemische Hs, 1450-1460] (Has a nice catoblepas)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 438 – Gedieht von den zehn Geboten, der Bulie, der Beichte und den sieben Todsünden. [Mitteldeutsche Hs., 1450-1460]

No, sorry, *this* guy invented rock and roll 🙂

Cod. Pal. Germ. 314 – Boner: Edelstein. [Augsburger Hs, Um 1445]

Another crossbowman, not much to see here, sorry.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 322 – Otto von Passau: Vierundzwanzig Alte. [Oberrheinische Hs, 1457]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 644 – Medizinische Traktate [Oberdeutsche Hs, 1450-1460] (Thirty pictures of physicians looking at flasks of urine. Nice.)

Cod. Pal. Germ. 4 – Rudolf von Ems: Wilhelm von Orlens [Augsburger Hs, 1458]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 147 – Lanzelot [Mitteldeutsche Hs., Mitte XV. Jahrhundert]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 344 – Gedichte (“Von dem Eilenden Buoben”, Spruchgedicht von der Minne und dem Pfennig und Spruchgedicht vom Streite
zweier Frauen über Liebe und Leid der Minne) [Oberrheinische Hs, Um 1459]

They’re doing that hand thing!
Looks to have been adapted from the same source image as the previous drawing.

Cod. Pal. Germ. 60 – Deutsche Bibel, Brief des Juden Samuel, Ars moriendi. Legende des hl. Patricius und die Legende des hl. Brandon. [Oberdeutsche Hs, Um 1460]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 86 – Boner: Edelstein. [Bayrische Hs, 1461]

Crossbowman sketch (incomplete).

Sal. VII. 114. Belial [Oberdeutsche Hs, Um 1460]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 346 – Tristan [Seeschwäbische Hs., Um 1460]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 463 – Jakob von Cessolis: Schachzabel [Oberschwäbische Hs., 1463]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 795 – Belial [Oberdeutsche, wohl Augsburger Hs, Um 1470]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 320 – Thomasin von Zirklaere: Walscher Gast [Schwäbische Hs, Um 1470]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 646 – Passion. [Oberdeutsche, wohl Augsburger Hs. 1470]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 76 – Ackermann von Böhmen [Schwäbische Hs. Um 1470]

Cod. Pal. Germ. 111 – Legende vom hl. Mauritius und Legende vom hl. Meinrat. [Schwäbische Hs., Um 1470]

Hans Wegener continues his book with CPG manuscripts from Ludwig Hennfflin’s Werkstatt, but this is now well out of our window of interest, so I’ll stop here. 🙂

While searching for the early 15th century German source images from which some images in the Voynich Manuscript were copied, we have so far found two manuscripts of the Welcher Gast (one from Eichstätt (1420), and one from Heilsbronn) that contain some eerily Voynichian motifs – a bird, a fish, and a child. But are there other manuscripts from Eichstätt and Heilsbronn dating to this period? I’ll start with Eichstätt…

Eichstätt manuscripts

If you don’t happen to know much about the town of Eichstätt, its two claims to fame are (1) that it holds the relics of St Walpurga (an 8th Century abbess of Heidenheim in Bavaria), whose feast is still celebrated today as Walpurgisnacht (1st May), and (2) that it held three phases of witch trials between 1532 and 1723. Oddly, St Walpurga’s name was invoked in the Middle Ages as protection against “plague, rabies and whooping cough, as well as against witchcraft”, which were often the subject of charms and amulets. According to Wikipedia, St Walpurga’s tomb miraculously oozes oil, which Benedictine nuns place in vials and sell to pilgrims. Nice.

As far as 15th century Eichstätt manuscripts go, undoubtedly the most famous one is Konrad Kyeser’s Bellifortis (1405). This contains a long series of drawings of instruments of war (some real, some planned, some historical, many just plain imagined), that Kyeser (who was from Eichstätt) produced for Ruprecht III (Emperor Palatine and King of the Germans).

After a long career all over Europe, Kyeser had not long before then been unceremoniously ejected from the Imperial court in Prague: the scribes who illustrated his high-class manuscript had themselves also been ejected from the Imperial court’s scriptorium, but had temporarily moved to Eichstätt (the details are unclear). According to Lynn White Jr, the link between Prague and the Bellifortis was made by art historian Augustus von Eye in 1871.

However, I have to say I’m really struggling to find many other illustrated manuscripts from Eichstätt from the first half of the 15th century. In fact, so far I’ve found only one…

UB Eichstätt Cod. st 212

The entry for Heidelberg cod pal germ 330 (Heidelberg UB holds three other copies of the Welscher Gast, don’t mix them up!) notes that Wegener (p.10) stylistically dates the ms to between 1410 and 1420, and that he thought its illustrations were by the same artist who drew the illustrations for Eichstätt UB Cod. st 212, the Eichstätter Evangelienpostille (a copy of a short 14th century religious work on the apostles composed by Ulrich von Lilienfeld).

The Eichstatt UB catalogue entry for Cod st 212 similarly dates that to between 1410 and 1420 (again citing Wegener), and notes that it was owned by Heinrich Gottsperger in 1425, who in 1427/8 became the Prior of the Dominikanerkloster Eichstätt (156v: “Iste liber fuit reuerendi patris et fratris Henrici de Monte Dei“).

Also: Cod st 212 seems (according to “Reform und früher Humanismus in Eichstätt: Bischof von Eych (1445-1464)”, ed. Jurgen Dendorfer) to have later been in the library of Bischof Johann von Eych. There’s also a useful 1913 monograph on this specific manuscript.

For Heinrich Gottsperger / Heinrich Gotzberger, there are (according to Spicilegii Friburgensis Subsidia, p.393) two manuscripts copied by him in Cologne in 1404 (Madrid I. G. 443 s.16 (“sic Catal.”), and Vat. lat 964), and one written in Esslingen in 1429 (Munchen Clm 26885 f.140-f.163). There’s a paragraph summarizing his life in David Sheffler’s “Schools and Schooling in Late Medieval Germany: Regensburg, 1250-1500”, p.241, plus more in Chapter 2 (not available online).

Note that UB Eichstätt holds various other books owned by Frater Georg Schwarz of Dominikanerkloster Eichstätt (Cod st 683-687 and 689), but these (according to Maarten J. F. M. Hoenen’s (1994) “Die Handschriftensammlung des Dominikaners Georg Schwarz (+ nach 1484)” are nearly all from 1450 or later (apart from a part of Cod st 683, which dates to 1417). This is nice because also on fol.156v of Cod st 212 is the following (dating to 1489):

“Felix Rosa Ave Tripudans Ethereo Regno
Gloria Extas Omnium Rerum. Inclita Virgo Salve”

OK, so it’s not quite as funky as the acrostic dedication in Hypnerotomachia Poliphilii, but it was a nice surprise nonetheless. 🙂

There’s a nice discussion of this in the introductory chapter of the 1913 monograph I mentioned above. This book also (p.6) quotes the second of the two articles (from 1801?) by ex-Dominican librarian W. (Apollinar) Nittermayr / Nittermaier / Nidermaier “Necrologium Eystettense Fratrum Praedicatorum, Pars I”, Eichstatt Diozesanarchiv B 151 and “Necrologii Eichstadiani fratrum Praedicatorum Pars Altera”, Eichstatt Diozesanarchiv B 152 (neither of which I could find online, but see 1186). Ultimately this seems to be the source which lists “fr. Henricus Gatsberger” (alias Gotsberger) becoming prior in 1427.

So… Where Next, Then?

Well, that’s indeed the question. If you accept Wegener’s dating, Cod. st 212 was made before Fr. Gotsberger even got to Eichstätt: hence I would perhaps like to look at Nittermaier’s book to find the prior priors, to then see if I can find other manuscripts linked with them.

But… this is a loose and fine historical thread to be reaching out to find blindfold, and I’d like to do much better. The underlying problem is that even though the BSB holds so many illustrated manuscripts, it has (unless you know better?) no obvious finding aid oriented towards geographic origin (perhaps because this is known only for a minority of manuscripts?).

Specifically, what I’d actually like to be referring to here is some kind of study of Bavarian illustrated manuscripts from the first half of the 15th century, along the same lines as the many studies of scribal houses in Alsace. I’m fairly certain that such a synthetic study must have been done several times over, but I’ve had basically zero luck finding anything close.

And so I share the question with you (slightly reframed). What historical research trickery can I use to try to find illustrated manuscripts from the first half of the 15th century from around Eichstätt in a systematic way?

A recent comment by Marco Ponzi on Voynich Ninja helpfully highlighted a 2019 comment there by Linda which pretty much everyone else had overlooked. She had previously suggested visual parallels between the Voynich Manuscript’s drawings and the ones in Erlangen-Nürnberg, Universitätsbibliothek MS B7, but when Marco (and then Koen Gheuens too) looked a little further, they found some unusually strong matches.

In my opinion, the first excellent match is Marco’s bird:

The second is Marco’s fish:

And the third is Koen’s child (from Heidelberg Cod. pal. germ. 330)

So what do we know about this manuscript?

A Welscher Gast mini-bibliography

The text of the Welscher Gast was written around 1215/1216 by Thomasin von Zerklaere (a cleric from Friuli), and is the first known code of conduct written in German. The ‘Italian Guest’ of the title is the Italian-speaking Thomasin himself, who apologizes for shortcomings in his German.

Given that numerous copies of the WG still survive today, it seems to have been a much-copied text. There is also, it has to be said, an ample secondary literature on the subject.

The great-granddaddy of this particular bibliographic tree was Heinrich Rückert, ed., Der walsche Gast des Thomasin von Zirclaria, Deutsche Neudrucke ; Reihe : Texte des Mittelalters (1852 ; rpt. Berlin : De Gruyter, 1965), which discussed twelve versions of the text.

This was then heartily supplanted by F. W. von Kries’ “Textkritische Studien zum Welschen Gast Thomasins von Zerclaere” in Quellen und Forschungen zur Sprach- und Kulturgeschichte der germanischen Volker, Neue Folge, 23 (147) (Berlin : De Gruyter, 1967), which expanded the study to twenty one mss, and included a partial stemma.

Books and articles since have discussed other WG mss and fragments unknown to Rückert and von Kries, such as those given the titles Si, F, and N. For more, you might check ARLIMA’s nice long list, though anyone thinking this is even 10% of the total set of WG articles is likely to be in for a bit of a shock.

Welscher Gast Manuscripts

For clickable links, the basic starting point here is the HandSchriftencensus Welscher Gast page, which lists twenty five manuscript copies.

Helpfully, Judith-A. Davidson’s “The Contamination of MS D of Der Welsche Gast” (Dresden, Sächs. Landesbibl. M 67), A Comparative Study of Text and Illustration Cycle, nicely lists these alongside their modern Sigles:

Parchment manuscripts

  • A : Heidelberg, Universitätsbibl., Cod. pal. germ. 389.
  • G : Gotha, Forschungsbibl., Membrana I 120.
  • S : Stuttgart, Wùrttemberg. Landesbibl., Cod. poet. et philol. f. 1.
  • E : New York, Pierpont Morgan Library, Glazier Ms. 54.
  • H : East Berlin, Deutsche Staatsbibl., Hamilton Ms. 675.

Parchment fragments

  • Gr : Formerly in Berlin, Preussische Staatsbibl., Ms. germ. 4° 978. (The MS, lost in 1945, was presumably destroyed by fire).
  • Bü : Fürstliches Ysenburg-Büdingsch. Rentkammerarchiv.
  • Pe : Budapest, National Szechenyi Library, Ms. Clmae 210 (formerly Cod. Misc. Hist. Hung, et Germ. Nr. 1559 f. lat). (The fragment was stolen, but had been published by R. M. Werner prior to the theft).
  • Wo : Wolfenbüttel, Herzog-August-Bibl., 404 9 (6) Novi.
  • Wa : Watzendorf bei Coburg, Evangelisches-Lutherisches Pfarramt.
  • Erl : Erlangen, Universitätsbibl., Ms. B7.
  • Ma : Berlin, Staatsbibl. Preussisch. Kulturbesitz, Ms. germ. f. 757.
  • Si : Sibiu (Hermannstadt), Rumanian State Archive, GG 3/X Tomus A.

Paper manuscripts

  • U : Munich, Bayerisch. Staatsbibl., Cgm 571.
  • W : Wolfenbuttel, Herzog-August-Bibl., Ms. 37.19 Aug. 2°.
  • a : Heidelberg, Universitätsbibl., Cod. pal. germ. 320.
  • c : Heidelberg, Universitätsbibl., Cod. pal. germ. 338.
  • K : Karlsruhe, Badisch. Landesbibl., St. Peter pap. 35.
  • M : Munich, Bayerisch. Staatsbibl., Cgm 340.
  • b : Heidelberg, Universitätsbibl., Cod. pal. germ. 330.
  • D : Dresden, Sachs. Landesbibl., M. 67.
  • N : Nürnberg, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Hs. 86035.
  • F : Stift Schlierbach, Hs. 28. (Grubmüller, who identified the MS., used the sigle « C »).

Paper fragment

  • Tü : Berlin, Staatsbibl. Preussisch. Kulturbesitz, Ms. germ. 2° 718.

Note that, according to Davidson (who I heavily rely on in the following), “The thirteen illustrated MSS are A, G, S, E, H, Gr, Bu, Erl, U, W, a, b and D.”

Messy Stemmas

Given that we’re specifically interested in the illustrations in the 15th century ‘Erl’ copy, what we’d really like to see now is a nice neat Lachmannian stemma, to point us at related manuscripts (and to help bracket out all the 12th and 13th century copies that are unlikely to be of interest). And here’s the stemma that Davidson gives, adapted from von Kries’ stemma (she had access to all his photographs and collations):

Yet I should caution that the whole reason for Davidson’s article is that there are problems taking too literal a view of the WG stemma. Her argument is that the D copy was “contaminated”, in that it suffers from “horizontal transmission” (von Kries also highlights that book 10 of H is similarly contaminated) between that original (left) half of the tree and the S** (right) half that branched off in the mid-13th century. Her modified sub-stemma looks like this, with an extra (lost) D* manuscript feeding in to D as well as the (lost) AD* copy:

Davidson also argues that the earliest description of the WG illustration tradition by Adolf von Oechelhäuser, “Der Bilderkreis zum Walschen Gaste des Thomasin von Zerclaere” [Heidelberg : Gustav Koester, 1890] got quite a lot of important stuff wrong. Which is important because she thinks that the illustration contamination of D there parallels the textual contamination of D.

All the same, the two obviously later manuscripts on the right hand side half of the tree to consider are b and N:

  • b : Heidelberg, Universitätsbibl., Cod. pal. germ. 330.
  • N : Nürnberg, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Hs. 86035. (which, annoyingly, has blank areas left for drawings that were never copied in)

Cod Pal germ 330 was made in Nordbayern (Eichstätt?) in 1420, according to the Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg description. Here are its birds:

Incidentally, the Erlangen bird page in context looks like this:

Initial Thoughts

Anyone who thinks using stemmae for tracing illustrations are innately easy should have a look at the Welscher Gast. The Welscher Gast digital project has patiently catalogued all the illustrations across all the known manuscripts (though I must admit I found the ways they cross-linked things more than a little confusing at times). However, the illustrations vary so enormously that it’s often hard to see (if you discount all the easy pages, like Euclid etc) how X’s illustrations relate to Y’s illustrations.

My thoughts are therefore that the German scribal copy shops putting together all these copies had so many drawings to make that they, exactly like the Alsace scribes we have discussed before, simply copied whatever material they had at hand to get the job done. (And what a sadly banal phrase that has now become, *sigh*.)

So, whereas I went into the Welscher Gast world wondering if there might be some kind of scribal transmission of the images to pick up on, I now think that – for the very most part – the WG simply wasn’t that kind of a beast. That is, its diagrams weren’t implicitly interesting: rather, they were window-dressing the text, because this was a text-centric gig, not an illustration-centric one.

Hence I confidently predict that the bird, the fish and the child were all taken from other 1420s German manuscripts done in these and similar copy shops, and which were happily reused when these kinds of copying commissions came in. But the Welscher Gast was probably a recipient of these images, not a source.

Here’s a nice article on Trove from September 1951 that I think sets a fair level of expectation about how car thieves and car theft worked at that time in Adelaide. Enjoy! 🙂

C.I.B. WINNING BATTLE WITH JOYRIDERS

Motorists can cut car thefts

Detectives are slowly, but surely winning the battle of wits with Adelaide’s joyriders. Since January 1 this year, 232 motor cars have disappeared from Adelaide streets. CIB investigators have recovered all but six. In the same period, 550 motor cyclists reported the loss of their machines. Only 19 have not been recovered. Bicycles are not so easy to find. Of the 1,180 stolen or used illegally, 620 are still on the missing list.

Police case histories here reveal that drivers are to blame in nine stolen car cases out of 10.They rarely disappear when the owners have taken normal precautions against theft or interference. A potential joyrider or thief has to make it a rush job. It has to be quick and easy, or he won’t attempt it. Any impediment — a locked door— may deter him.

Keys in car

Make a survey of any 20 cars parked in the street. You’ll probably find the ignition key has been left in two or three of them, one or more windows will be open on others, and, in most cases, the doors will be unlocked. These cars are sitting shots for the joyrider. Open tourers are easier. An ignition system that can’t be ‘wired round’ in a few minutes is yet to be invented. Thief proof devices have been invented. Some are cumbersome, none entirely effective.They have ranged from chains and clamps on the gear lever, clutch, and brake pedal, down to the secret switch. Secret switches mean nothing to the experienced thief. He doesn’t bother to look for them, simply uses a lead and wires round the switch.

A RAA spokesman told of the driver who chained a wheel of his car to a post when he parked for any length of time. It worked well — until the day a daring thief jacked up the wheel, removed it, put on the spare, and drove away. There was a device on the market some years ago which was wired into the electrical circuit so that a siren sounded when a door was opened or the ignition system operated. This embarrassed owners who had forgotten to turn off the secret switch before using the car.

Steering lock

The most effective device of all, according to the RAA, is the combination steering and ignition lock. These are good until the key is lost or mislaid. Then it is necessary to lift-tow the car or force the lock.

The experienced car thief is a resourceful type who makes it his business to learn the peculiarities of each car. One caught recently had a pocket full of different types of distributor rotor brushes. In some countries motorists who leave cars unlocked are liable to heavy penalties. The result is that few vehicles are stolen.

Six ‘dont’s’

Here are six ways to make the task of the car thief easier: —

  • Leave body and boot doors unlocked.
  • Leave the ignition key in the lock.
  • Leave valuables on the seat.
  • Leave the number on your ignition lock uncovered — a piece of adhesive tape will do the trick. An uncovered number can be read through the window and a duplicate key made. In many cases the key will also fit the door lock.
  • Forget to have your mechanic show you how to remove and replace the distributor rotor brush.
  • Leave the car out of gear with the brake off. Cars have been pushed to a secluded spot for ‘further attention.’
PCC MODRA holding a length of wire with spring clips at each end, used by thieves to start cars without a key. This device was found in a car parked outside a Marryatville theatre on Saturday night.

…and one on Backyard Deals (1950).

This second article was from the 14 Jan 1950 Adelaide Mail.

Interstate car thieves ‘often sell in S.A.’

C.I.B. WARNS ON BACKYARD DEALS

Many cars stolen in other States were disposed of in South Australia through unlicensed ‘backyard’ dealers, Chief of the CIS (Superintendent Sheridan) said today.

Mr. Sheridan warned buyers of secondhand cars to beware of unlicensed dealers, and to trade only with reputable licensed firms whose businesses were under police supervision.

‘Interstate car thieves seek out back-yard dealers, because they know their businesses are not regularly inspected by police,’ he said.

‘Some Adelaide people, who have unwittingly bought stolen vehicles from illegal dealers, have later had the cars confiscated and thus lost their money.

No car gangs here

‘The number of stolen interstate cars recovered in SA outnumbers cars taken from SA and disposed of in other States,’ said Mr. Sheridan.

‘There are no organised gangs of car thieves here, but there are isolated cases of SA cars being stolen and driven to other States.’

Mr. Sheridan warned prospective buyers of secondhand cars to be suspicious of cars that had come from another State, unless they were completely satisfied about the car dealer’s bona fides.

Car thieves often went to great lengths to convince a prospective buyer a car was ‘genuine.’

‘Easily registered’

‘The fact that a seller can produce car registration papers doesn’t always mean the vehicle he is selling hasn’t been stolen,’ he said.

‘Thieves often register cars, after erasing the correct engine and chassis numbers, and substituting fake numbers.’

Mr. Sheridan said one interstate car thief, who reputedly made enough money through his illegal transactions to finance three trips to England, travelled all over Australia stealing cars and selling them.

‘He would steal a vehicle in one part of Western Australia, sell it in another, then fly to Queensland. There he would steal a car, drive it down to Sydney, sell it, and immediately fly to some other State and repeat the procedure,’ Mr. Sheridan said.

Many motorists made the car thief’s job easy by leaving their vehicles parked unattended in streets with the doors unlocked, and the ignition key in the dashboard, Mr. Sheridan said.

To foil prospective car thieves motorists should—

  • Always lock the vehicle and remove the ignition key when parking it in a street. Because stolen cars are often used in crimes, some US States have strict laws against leaving cars unlocked and unattended
  • Have some private, secret mark on their vehicle, which would aid in identification if the car were stolen.
  • Note any stains, dents, or parts damaged in accidents. Such features were invaluable aids to identification.

Finally, The Case Of the Baby Austin (1953)…

If that’s not enough for you, here’s a final link to a police officer’s notes on a particular interstate car crime that was detected on the streets of Glenelg (of all places), as reported in the Port Lincoln Times, 05 Mar 1953.

It just struck me that I haven’t seen anyone suggest that the most useful part of the Somerton Man’s Juicy Fruit chewing gum packaging might simply have been the aluminium (AKA “aluminum”, before any American readers choke on their Coke) foil wrapper around each thin stick of isoamyl-acetate-flavoured gum.

As thedude747 posted in a comment here back in Feb 2015:

I was chatting with an older relative who was in the Adelaide car trade in the 60s and 70s … […]
I shared my theory with him about SM being a car thief and without knowledge of the full tool kit SM had in the suitcase he volunteered that cars of that era could be easily started with a small sheet of alfoil. You would simply slide it behind the ignition button which was how many cars of the time were operated. It was a simple but effective and handy trick known by people in the trade. He described using the alfoil wrapper from a lifesaver packet to start his FJ when he lost the keys once.
I then told him about the sheet of soft Zinc SM had in his suitcase and he said that it would have been idea to start a car without keys provided you were able to gain entry and that a short screwdriver would have done that job no problem.
I cant think of a better reason why he would be carrying a worn out small piece of pliable alfoil or zinc than this.

Maybe this is all that anyone properly savvy needed to know his profession?

My recent “Pax Nax Vax revisited” post led me to a new Voynich hypothesis that I don’t recall reading anywhere. Given that (as Jan Hurych helpfully pointed out) our Voynich-owning chum Jakub Hořčický (Sinapius) became capitaneus / administrator of the properties of St George’s Convent in Prague Castle in 1606, might Sinapius have simply swiped the Voynich Manuscript from the convent’s library?

It’s a decent enough question, but is it one that can be answered?

St George’s Convent

As you’d probably expect, the Czech Wikipedia page on Prague’s St George’s Convent is the place to start. And, thanks to the magic that is Google Translate, we can see the broad sweep of the convent’s history clearly enough.

Culturally, the convent’s Golden Age was at the beginning of the 14th century. Under Abbess Kunhuta (who her brother Wenceslas II had previously kind-of-forced into an unsuccessful political marriage to the Duke of Mazovia), its scriptorium (founded in about 1294) produced many beautiful illuminated manuscripts (e.g. this one).

[This was also the period when a second convent (Ducha a Milosrdenství Božího, the Spirit and Mercy of God) was founded in Prague: administration of this was passed over to St. George’s Convent in the mid-16th century.]

However, the Hussite Wars marked an abrupt change in St George’s Convent’s fortunes. When the Abbess refused to sign an agreement handing it over, “the convent was plundered, the nuns were forced to flee, and the convent’s property was sold off”.

The convent was restored to use during the 16th century: a carving above a doorway dating to 1515 depicts St George defeating his dragon. A fire in 1541 then wrecked the convent, which was followed by more rebuilding, at which point the buildings were used as an armoury. It has a nice frontage:

Nuns only returned to the convent (in the western part of the nave) in 1608-1612 under Abbess Žofie Albínka z Helfenburku. According to (Czech) Wikipedia, “During her office the monastery library was restored and most of the older texts were provided with a new Baroque binding, during which the text and paintings were often disturbed. The binding from that period gave today’s appearance to the vast majority of manuscripts.

Can This Theory Be Tested?

Right now, I’m not sure. Even though we have indirect evidence (specifically, a hole in the vellum made by a woodworm) that the Voynich Manuscript had a wood cover at around this period in its history, I haven’t yet read of anyone going looking for tiny fragments of wood embedded in its outermost bifolios. And then they’d have to take samples from the Baroque wood covers of the Kunhuta-period manuscripts for comparison. And then they’d have to work out how to compare them in a useful way.

Similarly, the next research step would be to read the earliest history of St George’s Convent, which (Wikipedia assures us) was written in 1715 by Jan Florian Hammerschmidt at the request of Abbess František Helena Pieroniána of Galiana. I believe this is his Historia  in qua primaeva fundatio Et Institutio Regiorum Ac Antiquissimorum  Monasteriorum S. Georgii In Castro Pragensi, S. Spiritus Vulgo ad  Misericordias Dei In antiqua Urbe Pragensi Ordinis SP Benedicti  Sancti-Monialium: Cum omnibus there Pontificijs, Quam Caesareus ,  Immunitatibus, Concessionibus, per distinctos Paragraphos recensentur.  Honori  celsissimae Franciscae Helenae Pyeronianae de Galliano, Dei Gratia  Principissae & Abbatissae supra fatorum Monasteriorum dicata / and  Joanne Floriano Hammerschmidt, SS.  Theologiae  Doctore, Proto-Notario Apostolico, Comite Palatino, Auratae Militiae  Equite, Regiae, Exemptae & Nullius Dioecesis Ecclesiae SS.  Petri & Pauli in Wissehrad, & SS.  Cosmae & Damiani Canonico, pt Regiae Urbis Vetero-Pragensis BVM in Coelos Assumptae in Teyn Curato. Catchy title. 🙂

It’s online here (as a PDF), though given that it’s made up of a long series of fragments diligently copied from old documents, anyone expecting to find a single timeline will quickly be disappointed. All the same, this does cover the right period, e.g. p.88 says (my corrections to the OCR):

Annô Domini 1606. Principissae ad S. Georgium Sophia Al-
bince de Hellfenburg rebellârunt cives Trzebenicenses, ei in nullo
voluerunt obedire, vineas pro oblata solutione excolere, Pa-
rocho decimas dare noluerunt, claves illi ab Ecclesia accepe-
runt, illum ab ingressu Ecclesiae excluserunt. De qua rebel-
lione vide §. sequentem in serie Abbatissarum.

There’s more of the same on pp.107-112, but I was completely unable to find any trace of Hořčický / Sinapius there. All the same, perhaps other people’s eyes will prove to be sharper than mine. 🙂

Incidentally, the prize for Best Name In This Book surely goes to Abundantia Bukowskin dе Hustirzan.

Back in 2010, I speculated that one of the oddly-unreadable lines of text on the Voynich Manuscript’s last page (f116v) might have originally read “pax + nax + vax”. Here’s a little bit more background on that mysterious phrase…

A Prague Nun’s Amulet

In “The Book of Grimoires: The Secret Grammar of Magic” (and in several other of his oddly-similar books), Claude Lecouteux mentions that:

During the restoration of the Saint George Basilica in Prague, a parchment strip requesting the cure of a case of trench fever for a certain Dobrozlava was found under the plaster of an alcove. The prayer ended with: “May Pax + nax vax be the remedy for this servant of God. Amen.”

Confirming this account is “STÄRKER ALS DER GLAUBE: MAGIE, ABERGLAUBE UND ZAUBER IN DER EPOCHE DES HUSSITISMUS” by František Šmahel (p.322, Bohemia Band 32 (1991)):

Einen nicht weniger seltenen Beleg stellt das Original eines Pergamentamuletts aus der ersten Hälfte des 14.Jahrhunderts dar, das die Schwester Dobroslawa aus dem Prager Benediktinerinnenkonvent des hl Georg vor dem Schüttelfrost bewahren sollte. Wurden die magischen Wirkungen des Textes in diesem Falle durch die Beschwörungsformel „pax-nax-vax” erhöht, so erfüllten im Milieu des einfachen Volkes einzelne Buchstaben oder auch deren bizarre Ansammlungen diese Funktion, wie wir sie z.B. auf keramischen Gefäßen finden.

…which Google Translate (slightly tweaked) turns into:

An original parchment amulet from the first half of the 14th century, which the sister Dobroslawa from the Benedictine convent of St. George in Prague was to protect against the chills, is no less rare a document. If the magic effects of the text were increased in this case by the incantation “pax-nax-vax”, in the milieu of the common people individual letters or their bizarre collections fulfilled this function, because we find them on ceramic vessels, for example.

Šmahel’s footnote 19 gives as his sources:

Eine Photographie aus dem St.-Georg-Kloster nebst Transkription und Übersetzung enthält Nováček, V. J.: Amulet ze XIV. století, nalezený v chrámu sv. Jiří na Hradě Pražském [Ein Amulett aus dem XIV. Jahrhundert aus der Basilika des hl.Georg auf der Prager Burg]. ČL 10 (1901) 353 f. Es bleibt zu erwähnen, daß ein Mönch aus dem Kloster Ostrov den Nonnen des St. Georg Klosters zu Beginn des 15. Jahrhunderts das gegenseitige Beschenken mit sog. Amuletten oder Talismanen an bestimmten Tagen im Jahr vorhielt, siehe Truhlář, Josef: Paběrky z rukopisů klementinských VIII. [Nachgelesenes in den Clementinischen Handschriften VIII.]. VČA 7 (1898) 210f. Aufschriften und Buchstaben auf mittelalterlicher Keramik belegt Švehla, Josef: Nádoby a nápisy na středověké keramice z Ústí Sezimova a Kozího hrádku [Aufschriften auf mittelalterlichen keramischen Gefäßen aus Ústí Sezimovo und Kozí hrádek]. ČSPSČ 19 (1911) 10-18. Interpretationen der beschützendmagischen Funktion der Aufschriften auf mittelalterlichen Glocken (lateinisch geschriebene hebräische Ausdrücke, Buchstaben des griechischen Alphabets u.a.) finden sich bei Fiodr, Miroslav: Nápisy na středověkých zvonech [Aufschriften auf Mittelalterlichen Glocken]. SPFFBU C 20 (1973 148f.

…which Google Translate also turned into pretty good English (has GT recently been upgraded, it seems better than usual?)…

Nováček, V. J.: Amulet ze XIV. Století, nalezený v chrámu sv. Jiří na Hradě Pražském [An amulet from the 14th century from the Basilica of St. George in Prague Castle]. ČL 10 (1901) p.353 contains a photograph from the St. Georg monastery along with transcription and translation.

It should be mentioned that at the beginning of the 15th century, a monk from Ostrov Monastery reproached [the nuns for] the mutual gifts of so-called amulets or talismans on certain days of the year, see Truhlář, Josef: Paběrky z rukopisů klementinských VIII. [Manuscript fragments from the Clementinum VIII.]. VČA 7 (1898) p.210.

Inscriptions and letters on medieval ceramics are documented by Švehla, Josef: Nádoby a nápisy na středověké keramice z Ústí Sezimova a Kozího hrádku [Inscriptions on medieval ceramic vessels from Ústí Sezimovo and Kozí hrádek]. ČSPSČ 19 (1911) 10-18.

Interpretations of the protective, magical function of the inscriptions on medieval bells (Latin Hebrew expressions, letters of the Greek alphabet, etc.) can be found in Fiodr, Miroslav: Nápisy na středověkých zvonech [Inscriptions on Medieval Bells]. SPFFBU C 20 (1973 p.148

This in turn leads Google to a footnote on p.65 of Benedek Lang’s (2008) “Unlocked Books” which I mentioned in my 2010 post. Lang gives the following transcription of the charm’s text, which refers to the famous legend/story of Seven Sleepers:

+ In nomine + patris + et filii + et spiritus + sancti + In monte + Celion + requiescunt septem dormientes + Maximianus + Martinianus + Malcus + Constantinus + et Dionisius + Seraphion + et Johannes. Domine Jesu Christe liberare digneris hanc famulam Dobrozlauam a febribus quintanis. pax + nax vax sit huic famule dei remedium Amen.”

Actually, it turns out that we can do even better than this, because Nováček’s 1901 article has been placed online. Nováček describes the strip of parchment as being 10cm x 4cm, folded three times and then pierced twice, through which holes a narrow strip of the same parchment was threaded. He describes the lettering as somewhat poor, but definitely dating to the first half of the 14th century.

To my pleasant surprise, the scan included a low resolution image of the parchment charm itself:

It’s not the best scan you’ll ever see, sure, but it’s a lot better than nothing. 🙂 To my eye, a reasonable transcription would be:

+ In nomine + patris + et filii + et spirit[us] + sa[n]cti + In mo[n]te + Celion + requiescu[n]t septe[m] dormie[n]tes + Maximia[n]us + Martinianus + Malcus + Co[n]sta[n]tin[us] + et Dionisius + Seraphion + et Joha[n]nes. Dom[ine] J[esu] Ch[rist]e liberare digneris hanc famula[m] + dobrozlauam a febrib[us] quintan[us]. pax + nax vax sit huic famule dei remediu[m] a[m]en.

Dr. Čeněk Zíbrt

Finally, Nováček directs readers who would like to know more to an article by Dr. Čeněk Zíbrt entitled »Kouzla a čáry starých Čechů« in Archaeolo-gických Památkách XIV (1887), which details inscriptions found on a number of similar amulets.

Of course, I couldn’t let the minor impediment of not even remotely reading Czech stop me pursuing this a little further. 😉 So I tracked down a Czech academic website where all the volumes of “Památky archaeologické a místopisné” were digitized, and found the article in Volume XIV (1887-1889).

However, just to make life difficult, Zíbrt’s article was broken up into lots of smaller pieces: but I’ll summarize the relevant pieces below.

Zíbrt starts by confirming that he had seen written mention of such amulets in the Třeboň and Jindřichohradecký archives. For example, in 1474 the Kantor in Soběslav wrote to the Burgrave in Krumlov about a “Mrs. Makhny”. She had been instructed to wear a certain amulet around her neck for nine days, because the Burgrave of Chúsnický had said that when he wore the same thing around his neck, the disease had gone away. (Arch. Třeboň.)

Similarly, the Catholic missionary Matěj Václav Šteyr wrote in 1719 about people believing (falsely) that amulets guard against fevers. The words found on such amulets were:

  • Hax, pax, max etc
  • Arac, Amou etc.
  • Barata, Daries etc
  • Galhes Galdis etc
  • Gibel, Cor etc
  • Ira, Bira, Lira, Pira, etc (to protect against the bite of a rabid dog)

In 1564, the scholar Wierus (who wrote “De praestigiis daemonum”) wrote that he had seen “Hax pax max Deus adimax” written on an amulet to protect against rabies. Rukop. univ. knih. Pr. (17 D 4), str. 81 contains the following: “DEX PEX NOVA MXZATX VAhX PRAX ZVAX ZISX PYX IVONXAX ANIX”. [Might some of these Xs actually be crosses? NP]

The last amulet Zíbrt discusses is a Czech variant on the SATOR / AREPO / TENET / OPERA / ROTAS magic square:

Along the way, Dr. Zíbrt confesses that the article was triggered by seeing a similar series of amulet-related articles from 1880 onwards in Verhandl d. Berlin. Gesellschaft f. Anthropologie, Ethnologie u. Urgeschichte, and feeling affronted that nothing similar had been written from the point of view of the Czech archives. But I’ll leave those articles for another day, this post is already more than large enough. 🙂

Meanwhile in Vltava…

One Czech web page reports the specific wording of a formula found being used on an amulet in the Vltava region to protect against fever, as reported by Matěj Václav Šteyr:

Ve jménu Otce i Syna i Ducha svatého Ve vrchu Kelion odpočívá sedm spících….Pane Ježiši Kriste osvoboditi ráčiž tuto služebnici od zimních pětidenních. Pax nax vax budiž této služebnici Božím lékem amen. ” [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Lord Jesus Christ, free this servant from the quintan fever. Pax nax vax let this servant gain God’s cure. Amen].

According to the dissertation by Mgr. Jitka Rejhonová, Matěj Václav Šteyr was the most published Bohemian missionary of the Baroque period. Anyone wishing to read more Czech is welcome to download this and find out more.

Regardless, it already seems more than clear to me that this specific charm text (combining the Seven Sleepers with pax nax vax to protect the wearer against fever) was a long-held belief in the region, from the 14th or 15th century right through to the 18th century.

Finally, f116v…

So, the question is: what does this tell us about the three-line block of marginalia on the Voynich Manuscript’s final page (f116v)?

I can certainly easily see how the middle line might (before one or more heavy-handed emenders got in on the act) have originally been “six + pax + nax + vax + ahia + ma+ria +”, so my previous suggestion that this block of text might have been the text of a charm still basically stands.

Moreover, given that it seems to have been traditional to write amulet charms on a piece of vellum (presumably because vellum is so durable), I wonder whether the reason someone wrote the charm on this sheet was because they intended to then cut it out and use it as magical protection. Perhaps, having written it, that person then realized that there was writing on the other side, and so decided (or was told) to leave it instead?

Finally, given the long-standing link between the story of the Seven Sleepers and pax nax vax, I now wonder whether the first word originally was not “michiton” but in fact “m[onte] celion“. Something to think about, anyway. 🙂

Other Pax nax vax examples…

In his (2011) “Norse Magical and Herbal Healing“, Ben Waggoner takes a close look at AM 434a 12mo in the Arnamagnæan Institute at the University of Copenhagen, an Old Norse-Icelandic medical text from circa 1500.

In his footnote 158 to the phrase “res [shape], fres †, pres †, tres †, gres †”, Waggoner notes:

The magic words are gibberish. MS Royal Irish Academy 23 D 43 uses similar words in blood-stopping charms: fres † prares † res † pax † vax † nax † (Larsen, Medical Miscellany, p. 138) and fres pres res rereres reprehex (Larsen, Medical Miscellany, p. 139). A blood-stopping charm in AM 461 has pax, vax, vax, hero, boro, iuva tartar gegimata, and another in the same manuscript has sumax pax (Kålund, Alfræði Íslenzk, vol. 3, pp. 109, 111).

MS Royal Irish Academy 23 D 43, which was written a little before 1486, is described in Henning Larsen’s 1926 article in Modern Philology (it’s in JSTOR): Larsen believes that it was assembled at Munkelif in Bergen from primarily Norwegian sources. However, the full discussion seems to be in Larsen’s ultra-rare 1931 book “An Old Icelandic Medical Miscellany” (which I haven’t seen).

Handritið AM 461 12mo is discussed here (admittedly in Icelandic): “Consummatum est, inclinato capite emisit spiritum. Pax, vax, vax, hero, boro, iuva tartar gegimata + In nomine patri et spiritus sancti”. (p.124) This same (encyclopaedic) manuscript includes an Icelandic Cisiojanus, which is nice.

My point is that the fifteenth century craze for using “pax nax vax” seems to have happened all across Europe. Anyone hoping to fix this just to Bohemia will therefore probably be fairly disappointed. Just thought I’d say!

PS: also mentioned in AM 434a is the formula where “a man writes these words in Latin letters with dog’s blood on his own wrist:Max, píax, ríax”…” (p.48)

Pax Nax Vax’s Father, Rex Pax Nax

For the benefit of anyone trying to Google more stuff about Pax Nax Vax, I should add that it seems highly likely to me that it evolved out of a well-known earlier toothache charm, Rex Pax Nax. For example, there’s the one you can read in Edward Thomas Pettit’s critical edition of the Lacnunga (Remedies) in MS. Harley 585, f.183a, b (11th Century):

[Contra dolorum dentium]:
(Cristus) sup(er) mamoreum sedebat; Petrus tristis ante eum stabat, manum ad maxillum tenebat, et interrogebat eum D(om)in(u)s dicens:
“Quare tritis es, Petre?”
Respondit Petrus et dixit :
“D(omi)ne, dentes mei dolent.”
Et D(omi)n(u)s dixit :
“Adiuro te / migranea uel gutta maligna p(er) Patre(m) et Filium et Sp(iritu)m S(an)c(tu)m et p(er) celum et terram et p(er) XX ordines angelorum et p(er) LX p(ro)phetas et p(er) XII apostolos et p(er) IIIIor euangelistas et p(er) om(ne)s s(an)c(t)os q(u)i D(e)o placuerunt ab origine mundi, ut non possit diabolus nocere ei, nec in dentes, nec in aures, nec in pal[a]to, famulo D(e)i, ill(i) non ossa fra[n]gere, nec carnem manducare, ut non habeatis potestatem nocere ill(i), non dormiendo, nec uigilando, nec tangatis eum usq(ue) LX annos et unum diem. “
Rex pax nax in (Cristo) / Filio . Am(en) . Pater noster.

A later (and significantly cut-down) version of this from the Wolfsthurn handbook appears in the introduction to Kieckhefer’s “Magic in the Middle Ages” (p.4). There, it says that a person afflicted by toothache should have “Rex pax nax in Cristo filio suo” written on his/her jaw. (This came from the 14th century physician John of Gaddesdon, according to the Routledge History of Disease, p.56: BL Harley 2558 is online here).

Rex pax nax also appears in Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole MS 1451, and San Marino, Huntington Library HM 64, and no doubt close to a hundred other medieval manuscripts. Hence my best guess is that pax nax vax started its life as a garbled / misremembered version of Rex pax nax, a formula which was still reasonably current in the 15th century.

[Incidentally, if I had money to burn, I’d now buy access to Lea Olsan’s (2003) “Charms and Prayers in Medieval Medical Theory and Practice” in Social History of Medicine, Volume 16, Issue 3, December 2003, Pages 343–366, as well as a copy of Don C. Skemer’s (2010) “Binding words: Textual amulets in the Middle Ages“. But I’ve already managed to blow half of my 2020 book budget, so I hope to return to these at a later. *sigh* ]