FREDA BEDI CONT'D (#4)

[admin]

Part 1 of __

Defining Authorship, Debating Authenticity: Problems of Authority from Classical Antiquity to the Renaissance
Edited by Roberta Berardi, Martina Filosa, and Davide Massimo
© 2021 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.

Contents:

• Roberta Berardi: Acknowledgements
• Roberta Berardi, Martina Filosa, Davide Massimo: Introduction
• 1 Auctor est aequivocum
• 2 Outline of the Volume
o 2.1 part 1: Attribution
o 2.2 Part 2: Authorship
o 2.3 Part 3: Authenticity
• Part 1: Attribution
• Elisa Nuria Merisio: Semonides or Simonides? A Century-Long Controversy over the Authorship of a Greek Elegiac Fragment
o 1 Introduction
o 2 A Century-Long Authorship Controversy
o 3 Style and Content as Attribution Criteria
o 4 P. Oxy. 59.3956: A Turning Point in the Authorship Controversy
o 5 Conclusions
• Linda Rocchi: Greek Readers' Digests (Again)? Some Lysianic [x] on P. Oxy. 31.2537
o 1 Introduction
o 2 The Papyrus
o 3 The Contents
o 4 Some Instructive Examples
o 5 Further Evidence: The Speeches For Euthynus against Nicias (II. 18-24 verso)
o 6 Conclusions
o 7 Appendix: Texts
• Davide Massimo: Defining a 'Pseudo-Plato' Epigrammatist
o 1 Introduction
o 2 The Authenticity of the Epigrams
o 3 The Anecdotes about Plato the poet
o 4 Diogenes Laertius and Pseudo-Aristippus
o 5 Apuleius
o 6 The Greek Anthology
o 7 Conclusions
• Pietro Zaccaria: Distinguishing Homonymous [Having the Same Name] Writers, Detecting Spurious Works: Demetrius of Magnesia's On Poets and Authors with the Same Name
o 1 Introduction
o 2 Demetrius' On Poets and Writers with the Same Name
o 3 Xenophon's Constitution of the Athenians and the Spartans (fr. 14 Mejer)
o 4 Epimenides' Letter to Solon (fr. 10 Mejer)
o 5 Dinarchus' Against Demosthenes (fr. 1 Mejer)
o 6 Conclusions
• Anna Dorotea Teofilo: 'On Sail-Flying Ships Did I Roam the Great Sea ..."
• Rosa Lorita: When the Author Is Not Identifiable
• Part 2: Authorship
• Sara De Martin: Theognis the Author, Traditional Wisdom, and Some Side Effects of Authority
o 1 Theognis Between 5th and 4th Century BC
o 2 Two Cases of Later Reception
o 3 Conclusions
o Federica Nicolardi: Beyond the Scribal Error
o Elena Bonollo: The 'Co-Authorial' Role of Ancient Pupils, Excerptores, and Copyists in the Genuinely Menandrean [x]
 1 An Authorial Perspective on the Corpora: Their Ascription to the Authority of Menander and the Contribution of 'Co Authors'
 2 From Menander's Comedies to the Collections of Monostichs: variae lectiones as Consequences of Re-Adaptation
 3 Conclusions
o Nicola Reggiani: [x]! Book Format, Authority, and Authorship in Ancient Greek Medical Papyri
 1 Introduction
 2 Book Authority in Ancient Medicine
 3 Authority in the 'Therapeutic Literature'
 4 Conclusions
o Gianmario Cattaneo: Defensio Bessarionis: Giorgio Benigno Salviati and the Concept of Authorship in Cardinal Bessarion's Circle
 1 Giorgio Benigno Salviati and the Plato-Aristotle Controversy in the Quattrocento
 2 Giorgio Benigno Salviati, Domizio Calderini, Niccolo Perotti and Their Treatises in Defence of Cardinal Bessarion
 3 Traces of the Defensio Bessarionis in Perotti's Refutatio
o Part 3: Authenticity
o Pietro Bertocchini: Can Virtue Be Taught?
 1 Introduction
 2 The Motif in the Socratics
 3 The Motif in the Spurious and Dubious Dialogues
 4 Conclusions
o Marco Donata: Reshaping Socrates' Authority in the Pseudoplatonica
 1 Socrates in the Academy
 2 Socratic Dialogues in the Academy
 3 Setting Socrates in Motion: A Survey
 4 Conclusions: Socratic Authority and Platonic Authorship
o Roberta Berardi: Letter 1 of Demosthenes and the Prayer to the Gods
 1 The Chronology of the Letters
 2 The 'Prayer to the Gods'
o Anna Mambelli: The Second Epistle of Peter: A Different Approach to Lexical Analysis
 1 Classification of the Uncommon Terms of 2 Peter: Problems of Terminology and Methodology
 2 Analysis of Rare Words Used in 2 Peter
 3 The Style of 2 Peter
 4 Conclusions
o Chiara Calvano: Forged Inscriptions in Early Epigraphic Corpora
 1 The Intellectual Context: Expectations of an Epigraphic Corpus in the 16th Century
 2 The Genesis of the Gruterian Corpus
 3 The spuriae ac supposititiae
 4 The Sources of the spuriae
 5 The Gruter-CIL Concordances: Proposals for Integration
 6 Conclusions
o Bibliography
o Abbreviations
o Online Databases and Resources
o References
o List of contributors
o Index
o Defining Authorship, Debating Authenticity
o Beitrage zur Altertumskunde
o Herausgegeben von
o Susanne Daub, Michael Erler, Dorothee Gall, Ludwig Koenen und Clemens Zintzen
o Band 385

Acknowledgements

Conceiving, assembling, and editing this volume has constituted a long and challenging journey, one which started in October 2017, on the occasion of the 2nd International Prolepsis Conference Auctor est Aequivocum, and carried on until Spring 2020. This was a spring that most of us will remember as one of the peaks of a pandemic that forced most of the world to go into lockdawn. Despite the hard times and the difficulty in accessing resources (especially libraries), we did our best to commit to the goal of finishing our work on this book, for which we deeply thank our authors, who have always been receptive to our requests. Furthermore, we would like to thank our peer-reviewers, Luciano Bossina, Laura Carnevale, Guglielmo Cavallo, Daniela Colomo, Antonio Felle, Tristano Gargiulo, Valentina Garulli, Margherita Losacco, Massimo Magnani, Roberta Marchionni, Maria Chiara Martinelli, Rosa Otranto, Massimo Pinto, Claudio Schiano, for their invaluable help. Composing this volume in English has not been an easy choice, but was done with the aim of making it more accessible to the international scholarly community, while remaining faithful to the international nature of the original conference, which benefitted from the attendance and papers of many international graduate students and early career researchers. We are deeply grateful to the proof-readers who helped to significantly improve parts of the manuscript with great professionalism and availability, namely Marcus Chin, Thomas Coward, and the others who have been acknowledged in single chapters. We would also like to thank the staff at De Gruyter for their continuous assistance at such a difficult time, and, especially in this regard, Martin Hallmannsecker and Simone Hausmann. We are grateful also to Gregory Hutchinson and Claudia Sode for their support and encouragement. On a more personal note, we would also like to thank the loved ones who continuously supported us in our work: Alessio, Heidi, Jenicek, Lidia, Mesi, as well as all of our respective families. Finally, a special thanks goes to the other members of the Cultural Association Prolepsis for organizing the conference from which this volume originates, and to all the speakers who contributed to making it a precious moment for sharing knowledge and research on the themes of authorship and authenticity. In particular, we owe an immense debt of gratitude to Luisa Fizzarotti, who has provided constant impetus to the intellectual project underpinning this book, and participated keenly in the early stages of its assemblage.

Introduction
by Roberta Berardi, Martina Filosa, Davide Massimo

En attendant, etudions les choses qui ne sont plus. Il est necessaire de les connaitre, ne fut-ce que pour les eviter. Les contrefacons du passe prennent de faux noms et s'appellent volontiers l'avenir. [GT: In the meantime, let us study the things that are no more. It is necessary to know, if only to avoid them. Forgeries of the past take false names and willingly call themselves the future.] -- (Victor Hugo, Les Miserables)

1 Auctor est aequivocum [GT: The author is equivocal]

The present volume further examines the themes studied in BzA 375, On the Track of the Books,1 as part of a project of coordinated conferences organized by the Cultural Association Prolepsis. Book circulation, one of the main topics of On the Track of the Books and the colloquium from which it originated, has often been the only way in which certain books have survived, where these were lost in their original place of production, and later re-discovered elsewhere -- far away, even -- wherever book trade took them. The second Prolepsis' International Conference, Auctor est Aequivocum: Authenticity, Authority, and Authorship from the Classical Antiquity to the Middle Ages (Bari, October 26-27, 2017), has delved further into the subject and, among other topics, focussed on texts which have survived to our day only because of their erroneous, but in the end fortunate, misattribution to a 'more important' author. Authorship and authenticity have indeed played crucial roles in the survival and persistence of literary and historical works that would otherwise have been regarded only as works of 'minor' significance. The survival and circulation of books, and the dynamics governing these processes, hence form a fil rouge [GT: Red string] uniting the present collection with BzA 375, On the Track of the Books.

The title of the conference from which this volume derives is a quotation by Honorius of Autun, a 12th-century Christian theologian, who declares in his Expositio in Cantica Canticorum (prol., PL 172, 348) that 'Auctor est aequivocum', thereby underlining the ambiguity of the term 'auctor'. This quotation presents a useful starting point for discussion of the vast number of issues arising from the concepts of authority, authorship, and authenticity. and of the problems that relate to their -- often controversial -- definitions. The contributions in the present volume address a number of these themes through studies focussed on particular aspects: the problem of homonymous (or near-homonymous) authors, the role of authorial voices, the presence of spuria in the literary corpora of ancient authors (Plato, above all), the difficulties posed by anonymity, and, finally, the challenges posed by deliberate forgery, ancient and modern. Forgery happened in literature, but not exclusively so; when one considers epigraphical forgeries and the problems of authenticity and authorship associated with these, for example, it is necessary to take into account not only the text, but the physical monument bearing the text as well. These problems are not new, and neither is reflection on them. Since antiquity, scholars have thought about authenticity and authorship: establishing the authenticity of texts was, indeed, one of the principle tasks of the industrious philologists at Alexandria. Moreover, doubts about the attribution of certain works remained a crucial topic in ancient, Late-antique and Mediaeval scholarship, as shown for instance by the many occurrences of the expression [x], 'if genuine', in the works of the major lexicographical works of these periods, and indeed later on, too. Debates surrounding authenticity have not found their conclusion, but rather only further points of departure, in the modern 'obsession' for unveiling forgeries (epistolary [letter] forgeries, above all), of which Richard Bentley's life and scholarly activity represents but the tip of the iceberg. On the whole, the inherent ambiguity of literary authorship will never cease to be a part of reflection on literature of all time and genres -- one thinks of the never-ending debate of authorship in Shakespeare, to give just one illustrious example -- but it is a fact that this reflection is true in the present time more than ever. Moreover, misattribution may itself originate in a learned and literary act, and is worth studying for that reason. A clumsy reader might recall the beautiful-sounding famous line of Augustine on love, 'Amo, volo ut sis.' [I love you: I want you to be.] But Augustine actually never wrote anything of the sort: it was in fact Martin Heiddeger, writing a letter to his beloved pupil Hannah Arendt,2 who attributed these words to the Christian philosopher, and made them memorable, by conferring on them the remarkable authority of Augustine. Was this a fraud, a forgery, or a trick of the memory or ego?

'Qu'est-ce qu'un auteur?' was Michel Foucault's question in an article of 1969.3 where he questioned the very necessity of identifying an author in modern literature, in a pronouncement not too different in tone from that of Roland Barthes, who a year before provocatively had claimed the death of the author.4

We are aware that what we offer in this volume is just a small specimen of the many topics encompassed by a study of authenticity and authorship in antiquity; among others not coming under its purvey one might name, for instance, the complications arising from the difference between oral and written traditions, ancient forms of intellectual property, the role of scribes,5 or the problem of textual and editorial variants: these are all issues which have been, however, already treated at length in the past by authorities on these specific issues. This is why this book is conscious to place itself within a long, but continuously lively, tradition of studies on the subject.

A few crucial titles have been key within this tradition. Landmark studies are constituted by the works of W. Speyer and N. Brox on pseudepigraphical literature.6 The field was then explored by several Italian scholars, and in this context it is worth mentioning the volume edited by F. Roscalla, L'autore e l'opera,7 in which the contribution by D. Lanza (11-19), in particular, bearing the same title, provides a theoretical framework (taking into account anonymity, pseudepigraphy, transmission, and attribution) for the other case studies in that volume. This need for a theoretical framework also emerged strongly from F. Condello's review of Roscalla's volume.8 Beginning with Foucault's provocative question, Condello, on the basis of the premises underpinning Lanza's introductory essay to Roscalla's volume, discusses the identity and role of 'the author'.9 More recently, two volumes edited by J. Martfnez10 have dealt with the theme of fakes and forgeries, acknowledging the changed attitude towards this type of literature: scholarly focus has shifted from concern with problems of textual authenticity, and hence with isolating fakes and condemning forgers, to an interest in the cultural historical contexts and dynamics of textual production from which they emerged.

The study of authenticity, authorship, and literary authority has become a broad and diverse field encompassing subjects of wide-ranging time periods and themes; the lively scholarly attention it continues to attract is reflected in the ongoing and burgeoning activity of conferences and publications. In the so-called era of 'fake news' -- perhaps a misleading label -- and therefore the era of 'fake literature', when an erroneous attribution and the click of a mouse are enough to misdirect thousands of readers as to the authorship of a statement or even of an entire poem, a reflection on the blurring borders between non-authenticity and mistaken authorship needs necessarily to start from the Classical and Mediaeval worlds -- worlds which often had no more effective technology for defending the authority of a writer than a mere seal, a [x].11 It is in light of this contemporary concern around literary authenticity, and the long tradition of studying it, that this volume hopes to make further contributions to the wide-ranging debates on ancient authenticity and authorship.

2 Outline of the Volume

The book is divided into three sections: 'Attribution', 'Authorship', and 'Authenticity'. The chapters within each section broadly follow the chronological order of their subject-matter, although the complexity of pseudepigraphical literature, of course, prevents clear-cut chronological specificity, and many chapters necessarily deal with material stretching over several centuries. Anonymous texts, moreover, often elude sound dating. For these same reasons, the three sections have been structured primarily on thematic lines, even if this has inevitably resulted in overlapping content.

2.1 Part 1: Attribution

The first section, 'Attribution', deals with the process of ascribing a particular work to a particular author, and the reasons for doing so, from ancient to modern times: debates about ascription can be detected already in antiquity, sometimes begin to emerge only later, and in some cases continues to puzzle scholars to this day.

'Semonides or Simonides? The century-long controversy over the attribution of a Greek elegiac fragment' is Elisa Nurla Merisio's (La Sapienza-University of Rome) starting point for deeper reflection on authorship and the attribution of authorship in Archaic Greek fragmentary lyric poetry.

The paper by Linda Rocchi (University of Edinburgh) deals with the intriguing case of P. Oxy. 31.2537 (2nd/3rd century AD), a papyrus codex containing 22 lysianic [x]. In her paper, she argues that this papyrus might have been a sort of annotated catalogue of all available Lysianic speeches -- regardless of their authenticity -- and may therefore be regarded as a snapshot of the Lysianic corpus as it was known to X orat. 836a and Phot. Bibl. 262, 488b; namely, at the beginning of its formation.

Davide Massimo's (University of Oxford) paper investigates the viability of applying the label 'pseudo-Plato' to a series of epigrams variously ascribed to the philosopher Plato in ancient times, and which are now generally believed to be spurious. Focusing on the sub-group of erotic epigrams, the paper analyzes the various factors which influenced how the corpus has been slowly shaped over the centuries, and the misunderstandings, erroneous readings, and possible forgeries that have led to the ascription of these epigrams to Plato.

The aim of Pietro Zaccaria's (KU Leuven) paper is to determine the criteria used by ancient textual critics, as outlined in the lost work of Demetrius of Magnesia -- a 1st-century BC scholar, who authored a pinacographical and biographical work entitled On Poets and Writers with the Same Name -- for distinguishing homonymous writers and detecting spurious works, as well as his method of detecting pseudepigraphical works.

Latin metrical inscriptions, their authors as well as the literary works quoted in them form the core of Anna Dorotea Teofilo's (Independent Researcher) paper. She closely analyses the epitaph of an anonymous merchant found in Brundisium, Apulia [CIL IX 60 = CLE 1533] and outlines a profile of its remarkably skilled and competent -- albeit anonymous -- author.

Rosa Lorita (Independent Researcher) shows in her paper the importance of identifying composers of epigraphic texts -- especially when these relate to the government of the Roman Empire. She does so by thoroughly examining the so-called Volcei land-register [CIL X 407], a fragmentary list of properties on stone.

2.2 Part 2: Authorship

The second section. 'Authorship', explores the conceptual boundaries of the notion of authorship and the role that figures such as pupils, collaborators and scribes play in many different texts -- a role that is very often more difficult to trace than that of the original 'author' itself.

The riddle of the Theognidea is the focus of Sara De Martin's (King's College London) paper. By analyzing Theognis' place in the literary culture of the 4th century BC, as well as the reception of the Sylloge Theognidea in the imperial and Byzantine periods, the author underscores the benefits of the diachronic reception-based approach to Theognis and the Theognidean corpus, and looks at the Theognidean text as a repository for traditional wisdom.

Federica Nicolardi (University of Naples 'Federico II') explores the problem of authorship within the library of the Villa dei Papiri at Herculaneum. A detailed analysis of P. Herc. 1427, which contains the inner portion (the so-called midollo) of Philodemus' On Rhetoric Book 1, leads her to a reconstruction of the history of this text. The formal aspects of this papyrus would suggest that it be included among the definitive copies preserved in the Villa; however, the much-discussed term [x] can be read in its subscriptio, as in the subscriptiones to other rolls, which would suggest it was a provisional copy.

The collection of Menandrian maxims, the Menandri Sententiae, are at the core of Elena Bonollo's (University of Udine) paper. The author aims to shed light on the interpretation of the variae lectiones characterizing the maxims that have been differentiated from their original texts, which had traditionally been all gathered under the name of the much-appreciated comic poet Menander.

Book format, authority and authorship in so-called therapeutic (medical) literature are the focus of Nicola Reggiani's (University of Parma) research. Through the investigation of medical papyri, ostraca, and parchment 'notebooks', the author analyses the concepts of authority and authorship in relation to different text-bearing objects.

Gianmario Cattaneo's (University of Turin) contribution identifies some of the authors of the Refutatio deliramentorum Georgii Trapezuntii Cretensis, a treatise attributed to Niccolo Perotti, a member of the literary circle of Cardinal Bessarion, whose famous treatise In calumniatorem Platonis was the product of a collection of authors. With the aid of other texts and epistles, Cattaneo shows clearly that the Refutatio belongs to Bessarion's 'familia', and also demonstrates the extent to which the concepts of author and authorship were blurred within the Academia Bessarionis.

2.3 Part 3: Authenticity

The third section, 'Authenticity', deals with the thorny issue of the authenticity of texts or portions of texts, and problems associated with spurious texts and forgeries.

Pietro Bertocchini (University of Padua) studies the so-called pseudo-Platonic dialogues, trying to find -- despite their heterogeneity -- potential common threads running through them. He identifies one of these commonalities in the motif-like interest in the possibility of acquiring virtue (by birth, by learning, by training or by other means) and explores the different ways in which pseudo-Platonic or spuriously Platonic dialogues deal with this highly debated Socratic theme.

Socratic authority and Platonic authorship are also the subject of Marco Donato's (Aix-Marseille University) work. The 'return to Socratism', as well as the imitatio Socratis promoted by the Academy from the last quarter of the 4th century BC, are to be sensed both in the school's work of exegesis, and in the collection of the corpus of Plato's Socratic dialogues. In order to investigate these topics, the author closely examines three pseudo-Platonic dialogues: Eryxias (or Erasistratus), Theages, and Clitophon.

Roberta Berardi (University of Oxford) investigates the much-discussed authenticity of the six epistles attributed to Demosthenes, with particular attention to the proemium to Letter 1. In order to do so, she examines the order in which the letters 1-4 (the ones explicitly composed during the exile of the orator) are preserved in the manuscript tradition, and investigates some similarities between the first introductory paragraph of Letter 1 and other proemia of Demosthenes, and also to the peculiar introductory letter to the collection of epistles attributed to Brutus.

The research of Anna Mambelli (FSCIRE Bologna/University of Strasbourg) explores pseudonymity, forgery, and pseudepigraphy within the New Testament. In her paper she analyzes the Second Epistle of Peter with a new methodological approach -- a text which was accepted into the canon of the New Testament late in the 4th century with greater hesitation than any other book, because many felt that Peter was not the original author of the work (e.g. EUs. Hist. Eccl. 3.25.3; 6.25.8).

Finally, Chiara Calvano's IIndependent Researcher) paper deals with epigraphic forgeries and the first attempts at their categorization, following increasingly rigorous epigraphic criticism in mid-16th century. The authors stresses, moreover, the importance of a new methodological approach in Jan Gruter's Corpus -- the first comprehensive publication to acknowledge the existence of epigraphic forgeries.

_______________

Notes:

1 Berardi et al. (2019).
2 The letter is dated to March 1925, and the attribution is explicit in Arendt (1963 3).
3 Foucault (1969).
4 Barthes (1967).
5 Very famous is the expression invented by Canfora: 'il copista come autore' ('the scribe as the author'), in Canfora (2002).
6 Speyer (1971) and Brox (1975).
7 Roscalla (2006).
8 Condello (2011). Excellent tools to study the topic of authenticity and authorship in antiquity from a theoretical point of view are also Ronconi (1955), Cerri (2000), D'Ippolito (2000), which discuss the terminology necessary for talking about these subjects, but also other crucial problems, such as the intentions of the author/forger in creating a pseudepigraphical work, and, further, the interesting problem of ancient and modern approaches to pseudepigraphical literature.
9 An interesting volume on the role of the 'author' is Marmodoro/Hill (2013).
10 Martinez (2012) and Martinez (2014).
11 It is difficult here not to mention the example of Galen, always very careful to claim the authorship of his own works, even to the point of composing a treatise entitled 'On my own books'.

[admin]

Part 2 of __

Part 1: Attribution

Semonides or Simonides? A Century-Long Controversy over the Authorship of a Greek Elegiac Fragment
(Simonides, fr. 8 W. = frr. 19-20 W.2)
by Elisa Nuria Merisio
From Defining Authorship, Debating Authenticity: Problems of Authority from Classical Antiquity to the Renaissance
Edited by Roberta Berardi, Martina Filosa, and Davide Massimo
© 2021 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston

1 Introduction

The attribution of Archaic Greek lyric fragments proves to be complicated because of the very nature of these poems and of the way they have come down to us. The fragmentary condition of most poems -- which is often quite apparent but sometimes cannot be safely assumed because the fragment seems to be complete -- is the main difficulty in determining their authorship, both in the case of verses preserved in Late-antique anthologies or in other authors' works and in the case of the ones included in papyri discovered many centuries later, which are often incomplete and full of lacunae [gap]. An additional difficulty lies in the peculiar character of Archaic Greek poetry, which often makes modern style and content-oriented criteria unsuitable.

An elegiac fragment quoted in a Late-antique anthology and included in a papyrus found at the end of the 20th century is a case in point. The attribution process of this fragment has turned out to be complicated and highly controversial and perhaps it has not yet come to an end.

Joannes Stobaeus, a 5th-century learned compiler, quotes a poem consisting of elegiac couplets and having the lemma [x] (4.34.28) in Book 4 of his Anthologium under the rubric [x] (How life is short, miserable and full of concerns). The text, included by M.L. West in the section dubia of the first edition of Iambi et elegi Graeci ante Alexandrum cantati (West [1972]) as fr. 8 of Simonides, is quoted below:

[x]

The man from Chios said one thing best: "As is the generation of leaves, so is the generation of men". Few men hearing this take it to heart, for in each man there is a hope which grows in his heart when he is young. As long as a mortal has the lovely bloom of youth, with a light spirit he plans many deeds that will go unfulfilled. For he does not expect to grow old or die; nor when healthy does he think about illness. Fools are they whose thoughts are thus! Nor do they know that the time of youth and life is short for mortals. But you, learning this at the end of your life, endure, delighting in good things in your soul.1

At first glance, the poem seems to be complete, but the unusual presence of a pentameter at the beginning has led scholars from the Renaissance onwards to assume that at least one initial hexameter was lost. Camerarius attempted to reconstruct exempli gratia the allegedly lost line as follows: [x]2. Moreover, the particle [x] at the beginning of the first line seems to fulfil a connective function, either continuative or adversative, and not an inceptive one.3 The suggestion that one or more initial lines were discarded by Stobaeus when quoting the passage is well-grounded, since his quotations are grouped by themes and such poems often featured some 'private' information at the beginning that was not relevant considering the general character of the Anthologium.4

2 A Century-Long Authorship Controversy

However, until the publication of P. Oxy. 59.3965 in 1992 (see section 4 below), the main problem associated with this poem did not lie in its fragmentary nature but rather in its authorship. As noted above, the poem was included by West as fr. 8 of Simonides in the section dubia,5 but since the 16th century this fragment has been assigned to many different poets, leading to a century-long authorship controversy. The main reason behind this controversy lies in the name attributed by Stobaeus to the author of the couplets, i.e. [x]. The phonetic similarity of the names of two Archaic Greek poets called [x] and [x] -- the former, Semonides of Amorgos [7th century BC], being a iambic poet6 thought to have lived earlier than the latter, Simonides of Ceos [556-468 BC],7 the author of poems covering a variety of genres, including monodic poetry and epigrams -- has caused the two poets to be confused since Antiquity. While their names are still clearly distinguishable in a 1st-century BC papyrus that features works by Philodemus of Gadara,8 they overlapped at least from the 2nd century onwards, probably also owing to the phonetic phenomenon known as itacism, which began in the Hellenistic period and spread widely during the Roman Empire.9 In his Anthologium, Stobaeus himself associates the lemma [x] with both fragments for which Semonidean authorship has been firmly established (e.g. Stob. 4.34.15 = fr. 1 W. and Stob. 4.22.193 = fr. 7 W., the well-known satirical account of different types of women) and fragments which are unquestionably from works by Simonides (e.g. PMG 521 = Stob. 4.41.9 and PMG 522 = Stob. 4.51.5). Even though in the 9th century AD George Choiroboskos, a Byzantine grammarian, had pointed out the different spelling of the names of the two poets,10 the two continued to overlap over the subsequent centuries. Nor did the editors of the earliest printed collections of ancient Greek lyric poets make any distinction between the two. Stephanus ascribed all the poems having the lemma [x], including iambs, to Simonides of Ceos11, whereas Crispinus, followed by Winterton, explicitly placed the iambic poems along with the elegiac fragment among the works of the iambographer of Amorgos.12

It is worth mentioning that in 1823-1824 Giacomo Leopardi translated fr. 1 W. by Semonides and the elegiac fragment handed down by Stobaeus. The two poems, respectively Dal greco di Simonide (no. 40) and Delio stesso (no. 41),13 are included at the end of Leopardi's Canti, the collection of his poems. Following Stephanus' edition, the Italian poet always identifies 'Simonides' with the poet of Ceos, as E. Pellizer has convincingly demonstrated (see Pellizer [1976]).

In the 18th century the two poets were still confused and only in the 19th century, following the development of Classical philology in Germany, was the distinction between them more clearly established. T. Bergk once again made a conscious attempt to ascribe the disputed fragment to the iambic poet Semonides of Amorgos14 (fr. Sim. 85 in his collection Poetae lyrici Graeci). This attribution was supported by U. von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, who strongly argued for a Semonidean authorship in Homerische Untersuchungen (1884)15 and in Sappho und Simonides (1913),16 where he further elaborated on the topic. H. Diehl included the poem as fr. Sem. 29 in his Anthologio lyrica Graeca and W. Jaeger spoke of Bergk's attribution as 'one of the unquestionable achievements of Classical philology' in a footnote to Paideia.17 The two criteria followed by those arguing in favour of a Semonidean authorship are clearly summarized by Wilamowitz in a footnote to his 1913 work:18 (a) the thematic similarity between the disputed fragment and fr. 1 W. by Semonides - a iamb dealing with the contrast between human illusions and the griefs of life in the same protreptic tone -- that is preserved in the chapter of Stobaeus' Anthologium (4.34.15) devoted to the brevity of life, just like the elegiac fragment; (b) a style deemed 'unworthy' of Simonides.

Conversely, in the early 1930s, W.J. Oates argued strongly in favour of Simonidean authorship in his study on the influence of Simonides on Horace's poetry.19 He questions Wilamowitz's and Bergk's opinions by convincingly arguing, inter alia, that the style of elegiac poems must be investigated from different perspectives20 (this topic will be further expanded in section 3 below).

Since the 1950s, several scholars have reached widely different conclusions about the attribution of this fragment. Some have continued to argue in favour of a Semonidean authorship, including D. Babut who resorts once again to the criterion of thematic similarity, even though he admits that there are differences in style between the iambic fragment by Semonides and the disputed elegiac fragment.21 Other scholars have tried to find a solution alternative to the Semonides-Simonides pair. V. Steffen assigns the fragment to Mimnermus on the basis of the style and content similarity between this poem and the elegiac fragments by the poet of Colophon;22 J.A. Davison leaves the question unsettled and, what is more, reverses the perspective by maintaining that the thematic similarity between the two fragments might be the reason behind their attribution to the same author;23 H. Frankel (followed by H. Lloyd-Jones)24 believes that the fragment's linguistic facies is too modern to be ascribed to Semonides and assumes that it is an epigraphic funerary epigram which was assigned to Simonides, along with many others, back in Antiquity.25 As noted above, West includes the poem as fr. 8 of Simonides in the dubia section and ascribes it to a poet contemporary to Simonides of Ceos. West expands on this topic in Studies in Greek Elegy and Iambus: 26 despite the Suda's testimony,27 only iambic poems have been transmitted under Semonides' name, whereas we know for sure that Simonides wrote poems in a variety of genres, including elegy. Then, West offers an objective review of all the arguments put forward in favour of a Semonidean authorship up until the early 1970s, and his analysis of the style and of the expressions used in the fragment leads him to conclude that it cannot be dated earlier than the 5th century BC.28

3 Style and Content as Attribution Criteria

The publication of P. Oxy. 59.3965 by P. Parsons in 1992 opened up new perspectives in the assessment of the elegiac fragment29 even though in some scholars' opinion the authorship question is still far from being settled. Before dealing with this new chapter in the authorship controversy related to fr. 8 W., it is worth making a few remarks about the attribution criteria followed by scholars before the publication of P. Oxy. 59.3965.

Special attention must be paid to the stylistic and formal criteria that were often used to rule out a Simonidean authorship in the late 19th century and in the early 20th century. Such criteria are based on a modern concept developed by Romanticism whereby each poet has his own individual style. In Archaic Greek poetry, however, individual style was clearly subordinated to poetic genres and, consequently, to performance occasions. In particular, as Oates pointed out,30 archaic elegy was deeply influenced by epic language31 on the one hand and by sympotic performance settings on the other32. As a result before considering the individual style of a poet, the poem in question has to be analyzed within the framework of the relevant genre. In this case, Simonides' versatility in composing in a variety of genres, forms and styles speaks for an attribution to the poet of Ceos despite the difference in style of this elegiac fragment compared to other poems whose Simonidean authorship has been firmly established. Conversely, the identification of expressions and concepts that are not attested before a given period33 is a useful criterion allowing to establish at least an approximate dating, even though it may prove misleading: for instance, the noun [x] in fr. 1 W. by Semonides is subsequently attested as late as the Imperial period.

Content was another criterion of paramount importance in trying to establish the authorship of the disputed fragment. As noted above, the thematic similarity between fr. 1 W. by Semonides and the elegiac fragment handed down by Stobaeus has been considered to be conclusive evidence in favour of a Semonidean authorship by many scholars. However, if this perspective is reversed, as Davison has done, it is worth pointing out that Archaic Greek poetry featured topoi that were reused and readapted to different performance occasions. Original topics were not an essential feature, and the authority of poetry lay in drawing upon tradition.34 Even poets like Simonides, who conveyed new messages, resorted to well-established forms and registers between the 6th and 5th century BC. Archaic poetry had a parenetic and gnomic function: the misery and 'ephemeral' nature of human existence are frequent topics, as well as human weakness vis-a-vis destiny and the gods. A pitiless picture is painted of human hopes and illusions that are bound to be soon dispelled35 to urge men to have a disillusioned view of reality and to bear the griefs of life, but this 'pessimistic' view of the human experience is combined with the celebration of bravery, art and poetry and with an invitation to enjoy the present while being aware of the precariousness of life. Although both the elegiac fragment considered and Semonides' iambic poem surely share the former perspective -- we do not know for sure whether Semonides' composition included the latter --,36 this thematic similarity must lead us to conclude not that they were written by the same author or that the two poems refer to each other, but rather that they share a common cultural background.

The poetic reuse of the well-known simile of the leaves must be read against this backdrop. The famous words uttered by Glaucus in book 6 of the Iliad37 are the first know attestation of the image. The same comparison was used by Mimnermus in fr. 2 W. and the disputed elegiac fragment features the first line of the Iliadic simile. Subsequently, this image was repeatedly reused by Greek and Latin poets.38 Interestingly enough, out of the many examples of the reuse of the Homeric simile, the elegiac fragment is the only text to quote its opening line word by word. Such feature has been sometimes regarded as evidence of a Simonidean authorship, since Simonides is known to have quoted verses by earlier poets, often for polemic purposes.39 Even though this argument sounds convincing, it does not appear conclusive.

4 P. Oxy. 59.3956: A Turning Point in the Authorship Controversy

As noted above, the publication in 1992 of P. Oxy. 59.3956, which dates back to the 2nd century AD, marked a significant turning point in the century-long controversy. Fr. 5 of the papyrus overlaps with an elegiac couplet by Simonides quoted by Plutarch.40 This detail, along with the similar content of the poems and the fact that two more passages featured in P. Oxy. 59.3965 overlap with other passages contained in P. Oxy. 22.2327, has allowed for an almost certain identification of Simonides as the author of the verses included in the two groups of papyrus fragments.41 What is more, fr. 26 of the papyrus contains eight of the 13 lines of the elegiac fragment quoted by Stobaeus. The text of fr. 20 W. 2, which contains the papyrus passages, included in the second edition of Iambi et Elegi Graeci ante Alexandrum cantati by West, is quoted below:

[x]

The first five lines of the fragment handed down by Stobaeus, which are included as fr. 19 assigned to Simonides, just like fr. 20 above, in the second edition by West, are quoted below:

[x]5

The discovery of P. Oxy. 59.3965 seems to have settled the authorship controversy in favour of Simonides, although some scholars still disagree (see below). However, it has raised two additional questions. First, what is the relationship between the first five lines quoted by Stobaeus (fr. 19 W. 2) and the remaining eight lines making up the previous fr. 8 W.? In the papyrus, the latter lines are preceded by traces of verses that do not match those quoted in the Anthologium and, what is more, they are followed by at least eight more lines that are full of blanks (see the transcription above). Secondly, what is the relationship between this fragment and the remaining verses contained in the papyrus?

As far as the first issue is concerned, scholars agree that frr. 19 and 20 W. 2 belong to the same poem. The few readable words in the lines following the last eight lines of the fragment handed down by Stobaeus (West tried to reconstruct them by way of example)42 seem to refer to Homer again. The poet is celebrated as someone who succeeded, by means of his poetry, in defeating 'Time who tames everything' (l. 15 as reconstructed by West) and in countering the ephemeral nature of human existence, as this is described in the preceding lines by the very use of a Homeric reminiscence. Sider believes that the lines have been handed down in the right order and assumes that there has been an omission of the lemma that introduced the second group of lines in Stobaeus' manuscript tradition, an omission that led to the combination of the two passages that originally did not follow each other.43 West instead thinks that the two passages were originally inverted, with fr. 20 preceding fr. 19. 44

Several assumptions have been made concerning the relationship between these verses and the remaining verses contained in P. Oxy. 59.3965. The main contribution made by the papyrus discovery is related to the verses assigned to the Plataea elegy composed by Simonides (frr. 10-18 W. 2) and to other verses belonging to the same genre of historical elegy,45 whereas frr. 19-22 W. 2 seem to be intended for sympotic performance. As a consequence, the papyrus may contain either an anthology that includes poems belonging to various genres or passages of an edition of Simonidean works made by Alexandrian grammarians, but the whole matter is highly controversial and open to conjecture.46 Conversely, Sider suggests that frr. 19-20 W. 2 too may belong to the historical Plataea elegy, where Simonides would be acting as a new Homer who celebrates the military deeds of the Greek army by means of lasting verses, in stark contrast to other poets like Mimnermus who fail to understand the importance of this poetic genre.47

The above issues rest on the assumption of a Simonidean authorship. However, T.K. Hubbard,48 who argued in favour of a Semonidean authorship before the discovery of the papyrus -- in his opinion, the poet of Amorgos lived later than is generally believed49 -- does not think that P. Oxy. 59.3965 is conclusive evidence to assign the fragment to Simonides. The fragments contained in the papyrus cover different genres, which points to a possible post-Alexandrian anthology, considering the taxonomical precision of Alexandrian philologists. If this is the case, in all likelihood the compiler of the anthology confused the names of the two poets; alternatively, the Alexandrian compilers themselves might have confused them. Finally, the Suda's testimony that Semonides wrote elegies as well, the similarity between Semonides' fr. 1 W. and the elegiac fragment, and the close relationship between the two passages (Simonides would never 'copy' a poem by Semonides, whereas the iambographer is more likely to have turned the trimeters into elegiac meter) are all arguments in favour of Semonides' authorship put forward by Hubbard.

5 Conclusions

What, then, is the real contribution made by the papyrus? Hubbard resorts to the same criteria followed by philologists before the publication of the papyrus, criteria which have been already discussed. In this regard he wrote:

[ ... ] with the discovery of an important new literary papyrus, there is often in the rush of scholarly excitement a tendency to conclude that old controversies have been settled or that the new discovery may be of greater importance for some questions than it actually is.50

Papyri in turn raise interpretation-related issues: even when the author is mentioned, or the papyrus contains a passage preserved in the indirect tradition and whose authorship has been firmly established, or the papyrus partially overlaps with another one that features passages whose author is known,51 the papyrus sheets are highly fragmented, and it is hard to establish whether they come from the same roll. Furthermore, the transcription and reconstruction of the text are somewhat subjective and, as a result, a given interpretation of the passages cannot be based on completely certain scientific evidence.52 At any rate, common sense and a moderate degree of confidence in the available evidence, however weak, are very much needed. The reasonable words written by Parson in relation to this authorship controversy read:

It had for long been argued by some that the ascription in Stobaeus, [x], might refer to Semonides of Amorgos, known otherwise for his iambs; it was thought that the style and subject -- recalling Mimnermus -- pointed to a date earlier than the sophisticated Simonides of Ceos. Now it seems that the question is settled -- or is it? You can wriggle: perhaps these papyri represent an anthology of elegy, not the elegies of Simonides; failing that, perhaps the Alexandrian editors mixed up the two Simonides. Well, yes, perhaps and perhaps. But why struggle? The evidence of fact, however weak, should carry more weight than the evidence of style, however strong. Here, it seems to me, two factors come into play. One is the dead hand of the past. The nineteenth century created the science of antiquity; what survived of Greek literature was built into that towering positivist structure. Genres were defined, allusions recognized, literary movements constructed -- all on the basis of a few flyspecks. Now, in that general crumbling of certainties which began in 1914, we have questioned many of those categories. And yet there remains a certain attachment to the fable convenue, the painful squeezing of maximum certainty from minimum evidence. A second factor forms part of that inheritance: the romantic belief that a poet is an individual, and an individual is a style. Once again, we think in general that we know better: not style, but manner; and manner relates to genre, genre to performance, performance to occasion. But it seems to me that there continues to be an underlying assumption of unity. Now Simonides should stand as the counter-example: not one manner, but several, according to circumstance. Why should one of those manners not be a nice old-fashioned bow to Mimnermus?53

The elegiac fragment considered is a significant example of the issues associated with the attribution of Archaic Greek poems in general. Uncertainties surrounding ancient poets and their timeframes, the supremacy of poetic genres over individual styles, the recurrence of traditional topics and the highly fragmented nature of most poems must be taken into account when attempting to establish the authorship of a poem. As far as Archaic elegy is concerned, the reuse of poems in sympotic [historical] settings makes the concept of authorship even more blurred.

Keeping the above observations in mind, it is nevertheless useful to try to ascribe a poem to an author while accepting the real possibility of error. At the same time, more attention should be paid to the contribution made by each fragment to our knowledge of Archaic Greek literature at large.

_______________

Notes:

1 Transl. D. Sider.
2 Camerarius (1551). The line, freely reconstructed by the editor, was permanently included in the fragment and reprinted by most editors before Diehl: cf. Pellizer/Tedeschi (1990) 62 (in app.).
3 Denniston (1970 2) 162-3.
4 Sider (2001) 275, n. 4.
5 'Ego si non manum, at aetatem Cei sentio' [GT: 'I, if not the hand, but I feel the age of Cei'](in app.).
6 According to Suda (0446), the poet of Amorgos also wrote two books of poems in elegiac meter, but only iambic poems have been transmitted under Semonides' name.
7 Semonides is thought to have lived between the mid-8th century and the late 6th century BC; most scholars agree that he lived some time between the late 7th century and the early 6th century but, based on the scanty evidence available, Pellizer/Tedeschi (1990) ix-xvii argue that the iambographer lived in the first half of the 7th century.
8 Cf. Phld. De poematis tractatus tertius, P. Herc. 1074, fr. f, col. 31. 5 (Sbordone [1976] II 212-3): in this passage the iambographer is referred to as [x]; cf. Sider (2001) 276, n. 7.
9 Authors such as Plutarch, Strabo and Pollux do not seem to draw any distinction between the two: cf. Babut (1971) 23, n. 36.
10 Cf. Etym. Magn. 713. 16-19:[x].
11 Stephanus (1560).
12 Crispin us (1569); Wintertonus (1635). The Greek scholar and theologian Leo Allatius stands out in this attribution controversy: in the mid-17th century he carried out research about Semonides and was one of the first scholars to argue in favour of his correct identity and to distinguish him from the poet of Ceos: cf. Allatius (1664) 205-17.
13 The first line of Leopardi's translation 'Umana cosa picciol tempo dura' [GT: A human thing for a little while tough ] translates the line added by Camerarius (see section 1 above) and included by Stephanus in his own edition.
14 Whereas in the first edition (1843) the fragment is ascribed to Simonides of Ceos without any further comment (it is worth pointing out that Bergk himself never spells the names of the two poets differently, even though he draws a clear distinction between them), in the fourth edition (PLG III 425) the scholar wrote in the apparatus: 'Elegiacum hoc carmen, quod plenum atque integrum esse videtur, non dubitaverunt homines docti Ceo poetae vindicare, mihi a melici consummata arte et ingenio prorsus abhorrere videtur, itaque nescio an potius sit Amorgini, quem praeter iambos etiam elegias scripsisse constat'. [GT: This elegiac poem, which seems to be complete and complete. The learned men did not hesitate to claim the poet Ceos, me from the navel. He seems utterly abhorrent to finished art and talent, so I don't know or rather Amorginus, who besides iambics also wrote elegies it is agreed.] The same opinion is expressed in the introduction to the iambic poet's fragments (PLG II 441).
15 Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1884) 352, n. 34: 'fgm. 85 des Simonides, aber von Bergk mit Recht dem Semonides zugewiesen'. [GT: 'fgm. 85 of Simonides, but rightly assigned by Bergk to Semonides'.]
16 Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1913) 273-4, n. 3: 'An der Identitat des Verfassers lasst schon die innere Obereinstimmung keinen Zweifel; dass die Elegie bei Stobaeus 98,29 steht, spricht auch dafur. Und die Form ist des Keers unwurdig. Gefuhlt hat die Verwandtschaft Leopardi, der beide Stucke nebeneinander ubersetz hat'. [GT: 'On the identity of the inner agreement alone leaves no doubt about the author; the fact that the elegy is in Stobaeus 98.29 also speaks for it. And the form is unworthy of the keer. The relatives felt Leopardi, who translated both pieces side by side'.] The 'innere Ubereinstimmung' mentioned in this text refers to fr. 1 W. by Semonides. Interestingly enough, Wilamowitz considers Leopardi's translation to be evidence of a Semonidean authorship, whereas Leopardi assigned both fragments to Simonides.
17 Jaeger (1936 2) 176, n. 4: '[ ... ] die Zuruckfuhrung des Gedichts durch Bergk auf den Amorginer Semonides - es ist bei Stobaios unter dem Namen des beruhmteren Simonides von Keos uberliefert - gehort zu den gesicherten Ergebnissen philologischer Kritik'. [GT: '[ ... ] the return of the poem by Bergk on the Amorginer Semonides -- it is at Stobaios under the names of the more famous Simonides of Keos handed down -- belongs to the assured results of philological criticism'.] For an extensive bibliography on the fragment attributions until 1970 see Babut (1971) 23, n. 36.
18 Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1913) 273-4, n. 3 for which see above.
19 Oates (1932) 78-79, 84-90.
20 'Wilamowitz also sees in the epic forms [x] and [x] evidence for assigning the poem to the writer of iambics. This point does not seem to be very conclusive, in that any author who was casting his composition in the elegiac form was bound to use epic word-formation, because of the close connection between the two genres of epic and elegy' (Oates [1932] 85); other less convincing arguments in favour of a Simonidean authorship advanced by Oates and previously put forward by Crusius include the information contained in two Homeric biographies that according to [x], the epic poet was born in Chios -- which does not constitute corroborative proof for several reasons -- and the fact that Homer could not have been referred to as 'the man of Chios' before Simonides' time. Oates adds one more argument, i.e. an allusion made to the elegiac fragment in Theoc. Id. 16.24, an idyll where the poet of Ceos is explicitly mentioned in the subsequent lines.
21 Babut (1971) 23-30.
22 Steffen (1955) I 35-41. He states: 'Cum Mimnermus in elegiis suis, quae amatoriae dicuntur, easdem res saepius tangere et repetere similibusque coloribus iterum atque iterum describere videatur, facile oriri potest suspicio etiam elegiam de brevitate iuventutis vitaeque agentem et vitam voluptuariam commendantem non a Semonide, sed a Mimnermo scriptam esse. Sermo pro antiquitate carminis venustus gratiosaque narratio longe abhorrent a Semonidis stilo sicco pressoque et Mimnermum potius quam Semonidem prodere videtur' (38). [GT: When Mimnermus in his elegies, which are called amorous, touching and repeating the same things often and in similar colors he seems to describe again and again, suspicion can easily arise even an elegy about the brevity of youth life agent and life recommending tourism not a Semonides, but that it was written by Mimnermus. A word for antiquity the charm of the poem and the charming narrative are far removed from Semonides with a dry and pressed style, and Mimnermus rather than Semonides seems to betray] Conversely, a Simonidean authorship is ruled out for the same reasons advanced by Wilamowitz, namely an alleged emulation of the iambographer by the poet of Ceos and a style deemed 'unworthy' of Simonides, 'cum multo ingeniosior fuerit poeta, quam ut cogitationes apud alios poetas expositas fere ad verbum repeteret' (40). [GT: when he was much more ingenious a poet, as the thoughts of other poets are expounded almost ad repeat the word]
23 Davison (1955), especially 128-40; furthermore, he doubts whether there is any direct relationship between the quotation in the elegiac fragment and the Homeric simile included in book 6 of the Iliad (see section 3 below).
24 Lloyd-Jones (1975) 97.
25 Frankel (1962 2) 237, n.14: '[ ... ] Dies elegische "Simonides" -- Fragment hat eine Sprachform die fur Semonides zu modern ist. Vielleicht ist das Gedicht ein Grabepigramm (vgl. Vs. 12), ebenso wie viele andere Elegleen die, vom Stein kopiert, nachtraglich dem Simonides (von Keos) zugeschrieben wurden'. [This elegiac "Simonides" -- fragment has a language form too modern for Semonides. Maybe it is the poem a funerary epigram (cf. vs. 12), as well as many others Elegleen which, copied from the stone, was added later to Simonides (of Keos) were attributed'.]
26 West (1974) 179-80.
27 See above.
28 West took Into account the following linguistic and stylistic elements: the habit of quoting and commenting upon a famous passage, the reference to Homer as [x], the expression [x] at I. 13 and the use of [x] at I. 14.
29 It is fair to mention that the contribution made by P. Oxy. 59.3965 had already been highlighted by Lobel, who nevertheless did not manage to publish the fragment: cf. Parsons/Rea (1981) 23 and Pellizer/Tedeschi (1990) 62 (in the app. related to the fragment). The two editors include the fragment in the spuria section by Semonides and in the introduction they clearly state that: 'Il noto frammento elegiaco che Stobeo ci ha tramandato sotto il nome di Simonide senza ulteriori spiegazioni [ ... ], nonostante le argomentazioni addotte da illustri filologi (ma la piccola "quaestio semonidea" non pote mai essere risolta in un senso o nell'altro in modo convincente) non puo essere assegnato all'Amorgino' (xxiii-xxiv). [GT: 'The well-known fragment elegiac that Stobeo handed down to us under the name of Simonides without further explanation [...], despite the arguments adduced by illustrious philologists (but the small "quaestio semonidea" does not could never be resolved one way or the other in a convincing way) cannot be assigned to the Amorgino'] For the contribution made by papyri to our knowledge of Simonidean works see Parsons (2001) 58-59.
30 See section 2 above.
31 As far as the elegiac fragment is concerned, the influence exerted by epic language is clearly shown by the apparatus of loci paralleli included in Pellizer/Tedeschi (1990) 62-64; see also the list of similar expressions and of lexical and content-related parallels in Rawles (2018) 116-7. The dependence on the Homeric poems and on Hesiod had already been highlighted in Babut (1971) 24-30.
32 Among the sympotic features of frr. 19-20 W. 2, Rawles (2018) 117-20 mentions the beginning of fr. 19 W. 2 as the answer to a traditional sympotic question ('What is best?'), the presence of a single addressee (cf. fr. 20.11-12 W. 2; [x]) and in general its nature of reflective elegy dealing with age and death.
33 See West's analysis mentioned in section 2 above.
34 Cf. Ford (1985) 83-84.
35 In addition to fr. 1 W. by Semonides and the disputed elegiac fragment, several passages of Archaic Greek poetry may be mentioned, including Mimn. fr. 2 W., Simon. PMG 520 and 521. Pind. Pyth. 8.88-97.
36 Many scholars believe that fr. 1 W. by Semonides is not complete; In particular, Frankel (1962 2) 231 thinks that the missing lines at the end of the poem might have contained an exhortation to enjoy the pleasures being offered by the symposium.
37 Hom. Il. 6.146-9: [x].
38 For an overview of all the passages featuring the simile and an analysis of its various versions see Sider (2001).
39 Cf. Sider (2001) 282; he quotes, inter alia, PMG 542 where Pittacus is mentioned and PMG 581 where Simonides criticizes the famous epigram by Cleobulus for Midas' grave. Both Sider (2001) 281-3 and Hubbard (2001) 230 (who in n. 16 refers back to his 1994 study), while assigning the fragment to Simonides and to Semonides respectively (as for Hubbard's position see below), identify the fragment as a polemic response to Mimnermus. This would be suggested by the reuse of the Homeric simile and of other Homeric expressions and terms. This interpretation is followed and expanded by Rawles (2018) 120-9, who locates Simonides' disagreement with Mimnermus within the former's broader criticism of the traditional aristocratic educational system (paideia) that implied the transmission of wisdom from the elders to the younger generations.
40 Frr. 15-16 W. 2 = Plut. De Her. mal. 42.872d.
41 Cf. Parsons (2001) 59.
42 Ll. 13-19: .......(.)] [x]; cf. West (1993) 10.
43 Cf. Sider (2001) 275-80; as rightly pointed out by Sider (276), one out of the three manuscripts containing the disputed elegiac fragment, i.e. ms. S, which belongs to the best family of manuscripts, features the first five lines that make up fr. 19 W. 2 whereas the others only contain lines 6-13 of the previous fr. 8 W.
44 Cf. West (1993) 11-14.
45 West believes that frr. 1-4 W. 2 belong to the elegy composed for the battle fought at Artemisium and frr. 8-9 W. 2 to the elegy devoted to the battle of Salamis: cf. Rutherford (2001) 33-38.
46 Cf. Rutherford (2001) 33-34.
47 Cf. Sider (2001) 285-6. Rawles (2018) 111-3 has recently taken up again the issue of whether frr. 19 and 20 W. 2 belong to the Plataea elegy. He argues against their coming from the same poem as the Plataea fragments; conversely, he thinks that they are part of a sympotic composition unrelated to historical elegy [a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead].
48 Cf. Hubbard (2001).
49 In Hubbard's opinion the right dating is 'late sixth-century'; for Semonides' chronology see 2 above.
50 Cf. Hubbard (2001) 231.
51 For these 'objective' criteria see Gargiulo (2011) 70-71.
52 Cf. Parsons (2001) 60-61.
53 Cf. Parsons (2001) 62.

[admin]

Part 1 of 2

Greek Readers' Digests (Again)? Some Lysianic [x] on P. Oxy. 31.2537
Linda Rocchi
From Defining Authorship, Debating Authenticity: Problems of Authority from Classical Antiquity to the Renaissance
Edited by Roberta Berardi, Martina Filosa, and Davide Massimo
© 2021 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.

1 Introduction

Over the last two centuries, Egypt has been the scene of a great number of excavations which have enormously increased our knowledge of Greek literature and culture, and Attic oratory makes no exception. What immediately leaps out, however, is that this remarkable season was quite grudging of findings of works of the logographer Lysias, especially considering the number of papyri devoted to the work of the other two 'giants' of Classical Athenian oratory, Isocrates and Demosthenes.1

The copious number of speeches written by the most prolific among the ancient orators seems to have amounted to the astonishing figure of at least 233 orations.2 Nevertheless, during the history of its transmission, this collection suffered severe reductions, to the effect that only 35 of these speeches have survived to the present day.3

The extant Lysianic papyri, despite being only 10, have proven to be a unique source of information on what the corpus of Lysias might have been before it was cut down to what it is today:4 as Obbink (2005) 104 pinpointed, while the Demosthenic and Isocratic papyri preserve, for the vast majority, known speeches of these authors, among the papyri containing the work of Lysias known orations 'are significantly outnumbered by papyri of Lysian speeches that did not survive antiquity'.

The place of honour among papyri dealing with unknown speeches, at least in terms of numbers, is certainly held by P. Oxy. 31.2537:5 this leaf of papyrus codex, dated palaeographically to the end of the 2nd or the beginning of the 3rd century AD, contains the [x] of at least 18 Lysianic speeches which were previously unknown to us -- or known just from the title and small quotations in lexicographers -- plus the summaries of four other speeches6 preserved in Pal. gr. 88 as well, for a remarkable total of 22 items.

The aim of the present article, which is part of the work done on the original papyrus over a six-month period at the University of Reading, will be that of analyzing some relevant passages in order to make some inferences on the original purpose and readership of this document. We will seek, firstly, to understand how these summaries were composed, with the purpose of narrowing down the kind of information in which the compiler -- and thus his public -- appeared to be more interested. Secondly, through a comparison of the differences and similarities between this set of summary and other ancient works labelled as such, this study will attempt to put P. Oxy. 31.2537 in its right position within the broader category of the [x] as a (sub)literary genre.7

In the hope of having achieved a satisfactory result, it might be worth highlighting the only certain and fundamental point in this discussion: whatever the exact original purpose of this peculiar list of summaries was, neither the permanent loss of the rest of the codex, nor the dramatically damaged state of the only surviving leaf of this manuscript had been able to obliterate the fact that, from 5th-century Athens to the Graeco-Roman Egypt, the interest in the text of Lysias, the brilliant metic logographer [In anc. Gr. lit., a prose-writer; especially, a historian; a chronicler; one who writes history in a condensed manner with short simple sentences.] that more than any other orator had been capable of portraying the everyday life of his adoptive country, was alive and well. And, judging from the substantial amount of speeches summarized in this papyrus which did not make it to the Mediaeval tradition, even more prosperous and flourishing than it was ever going to be in the centuries to come.

2 The Papyrus

Before briefly exploring the contents of this papyrus, it appears necessary to say a few words on the material state of this document. The codex from which P. Oxy. 31.2537 derives was compiled by a clearly experienced hand in what Turner/Parsons ([1987] 22) define 'formal mixed'.8 This means that whoever commissioned the manuscript was able to pay a professional scribe to produce it. The papyrus is written both on the recto [the side of a leaf (as of a manuscript) that is to be read first; a right-hand page] and on the verso [the side of a leaf (as of a manuscript) that is to be read second; a left-hand page], as is normally expected for a codex, and is 24.5 cm in height and 9.5 cm in breadth, 'with margins of c. 0.5 cm at the top and c. 2 cm at the bottom' (Rea [1966] 23).

The recto is comparatively in better conditions than the verso, but the original number of lines -- 48 on the recto and 45 on the verso -- is preserved on both sides. The break which runs down the margin appears too clear to suggest that there was more than one column per page (cf. Rea (1966] 23), and although the possibility cannot be completely discarded, it should be noted that a format with two columns on each page 'is used somewhat rarely in papyrus codices' (Turner [1977] 35), and is on the contrary more commonly employed in parchment ones. Moreover, if the smudged spot of ink on the top margin of the verso is to be interpreted as a trace of a page number (cf. Rea [1966] 23), it is worth bearing in mind that the top centre of the page was a preferred position for this kind of information (cf. Turner/Parsons (1987] 16): if there had been another column, the page number would have probably been between the two columns, and it would have been now completely devoured by the wide lacuna on the top margin of the page.

3 The Contents

These 22 Lysianic summaries are divided into seven sections according to the legal procedure,9 and are grouped together regardless of the supposed authenticity of the speech: the first section, which realistically started in the now lost previous page and was probably concerned with trials [x], 'for violence', contained at least two speeches, while the second section deals with four speeches of the [x] type, 'for slander', none of which is indisputably attributed to Lysias. The third subdivision, devoted to five speeches [x]. 'for ejection', occupies the bottom section of the recto and the top one of the verso, and is followed by two speeches whose typology is unknown, but which possibly represent cases of [x], 'exchange of properties'. The two following sections encompass, respectively, five speeches [x], 'for deposit', and three ~[x], 'for usurpation of civic rights', while the last one contained seven speeches of unknown type, of which only one is partially readable at the end of the verso.

Despite its fragmentary state, then, it is clear that P. Oxy. 31.2537 presents many features of interest. As was briefly mentioned above, this papyrus contains the summaries of many speeches that, although evidently still circulating in 2nd century Egypt, were previously unknown to us, or only partially known by the title or brief quotations in ancient lexica. What is particularly interesting, however, is that among the material presented in this papyrus -- both known and unknown speeches -- there are several orations whose authorship is uncertain.

4 Some Instructive Examples

One subdivision in particular can help to illustrate the compiler's modus operandi in arranging the material, and to gather information on his summarizing style: the section containing speeches on slander (II. 6-29 recto). This section encompasses four speeches: two speeches [x], summarized together (II. 6-15), the speech [x] (II. 16-22), and the speech [x] (II. 23-29). These four speeches appear together also in Pal. gr. 88, but in the reverse order.10

Let us first consider the summary of the two speeches [x] (Lys. 10-11), As was only briefly touched upon earlier, this [x] is, strictly speaking, a Doppel-[x], dealing both with Lys. 10 and Lys. 11 as two distinct Lysianic speeches.11 Scholars generally agree in considering Lys. 11 the epitome of Lys. 10: 12 Harpocration himself seems to be aware of the existence of the longer version of the speech only,13 and he does not even regard it without suspicion as an authentic Lysianic work.14 It might also be noted, in passing, that the fact that both the speeches are included in this set of summaries indicates the end of the 2nd or the beginning of the 3rd century AD as the terminus ante quem [GT: term before he] for the undue inclusion of Lys. 11 in the corpus.15

The speech [x] (Lys. 9) is quoted once by Harpocration with the indication [x]16 and, although it is the second item in a series of orations under a heading that specifically reads as [x], it shines through the whole speech that this trial does not deal with a [x] at all.17

Similarly, the inclusion of the speech [x] 18 (Lys. 8) among the [x] is, as with Lys. 9, primarily a matter of vague thematic affinity.19 The oration is defined by Todd (2007) 541 'the oddest of the speeches in the corpus of Lysias, and possibly of any Attic Orator', not least because it does not appear to be a forensic speech at all, it is not likely to have been written by Lysias, and there are even solid reasons to doubt that it was written during Lysias' lifetime. Accordingly, then, the oration is never mentioned by Harpocration.

Valerius Harpocration, was a Greek grammarian of Alexandria, probably working in the 2nd century AD. He is possibly the Harpocration mentioned by Julius Capitolinus (Life of Verus, 2) as the Greek tutor of Lucius Verus (2nd century AD); some authorities place him much later, on the ground that he borrowed from Athenaeus.

Harpocration's Lexicon of the Ten Orators, which has come down to us in an incomplete form, contains, in more or less alphabetical order, notes on well-known events and persons mentioned by the orators, and explanations of legal and commercial expressions. As nearly all the lexicons [dictionaries] to the Greek orators have been lost, Harpocration's work is especially valuable. Amongst his authorities were the writers of Atthides (histories of Attica), the grammarian Didymus Chalcenterus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, and the lexicographer Dionysius, son of Tryphon. The book also contains contributions to the history of Attic oratory and Greek literature generally.

The Collection of Florid Expressions, a sort of anthology or chrestomathy [a collection of selected literary passages (usually from a single author); a selection of literary passages from a foreign language assembled for studying the language; or a text in various languages, used especially as an aid in learning a subject.] attributed to him by the Suda, is lost, but elements of it survive in later lexica. A series of articles in the margin of a Cambridge manuscript of the Lexicon forms the basis of the Lexicon rhetoricum Cantabrigiense by Peter Paul Dobree.

-- Harpocration, by Wikipedia

Another speech, [x] (II. 8-11 verso), the fifth and last speech in the section devoted to [x], is also regarded as dubious by Harpocration.20 Moreover, if the supplement [x], tentatively put forward by Rea (1966) 37 and highly consistent with the traces on the papyrus, is accepted in I. 43 verso, there would be here yet another oration of unknown legal typology on whose paternity Harpocration ([x] 25 K.) was unsure.

As for the other speeches, either they are so fragmentary that it is not possible to link them to any (partially) known speech, or, when the title is readable, the speech does not seem to be mentioned by Harpocration at all. At this point it should be sufficiently clear that the papyrus features many speeches on which Harpocration was, at best, suspicious. The presence of these speeches, and of several new ones, raises questions not only on the substance of this manuscript when it was still intact, but also -- and perhaps more interestingly -- on the real nature of this papyrus and the purpose for which it was originally compiled.

The first impression is that the compiler is clearly not making a selection: the presence of new and dubious speeches suggests that he was not aware of -- or simply not interested in -- matters of authenticity. It seems, on the contrary, that he was compiling a list, some sort of annotated catalogue of all the speeches by Lysias which were available at his time.

The impression is reinforced by the presence, on II. 24-28 verso, of a [x]. The existence of a Lysianic speech homonymous [having the same name.] to Isocr. 17 is assured by Photius (a 2030 Th.), who quotes, in this respect, the verb [x], which does not appear anywhere in the Isocratic text.21 Whether there existed two different speeches -- one by Lysias and one by Isocrates22 -- written for the two parties in the same lawsuit, or not, is perhaps open to question, although enough evidence that this had actually been the case has been put forward quite conclusively by Trevett (1990). What matters most for the present purpose is that, since -- as will be further explored -- there does not seem to be any kind of critical approach from the part of the epitomizer [One who abridges or summarizes; a writer of an epitome.], it appears safe to assume that he had a [x], clearly labelled as the work of Lysias, available, and included it, as it seems, without questions. Furthermore, the impression that the compiler was indeed making a list appears to be encouraged also by the format of the document: the papyrus is organized in seven different sections, and each one is labelled under a heading, clearly stating the legal charge and the number of speeches summarized in each group.23 Evidently, therefore, this feature adds up to the others and inevitably makes this catalogue look even more like a list.

There is, however, another criterion that should be taken into account in analyzing the original purpose of this manuscript: the style. As a matter of fact, the way in which this papyrus is written and organized, and the decisions the compiler made on the kind of information that should have been included and the one that should have been left out, sharply distinguish this papyrus from any other work containing summaries of speeches. There are, indeed, quite a few other ancient documents, characterized as [x], related to rhetorical works, which ought to be analyzed to evaluate differences and similarities between them, and to consider whether P. Oxy. 31.2537 fully fits in this category or not. In her 1998 book, Van Rossum-Steenbeek analyzed a selection of ancient summaries, comparable under many aspects to the ones in P. Oxy. 31.2537, and came to the conclusion that the [x] she surveyed were meant to be read along with, and not instead of, the original texts. However, the possibility that the list of summaries contained in P. Oxy. 31.2537 was actually meant to function as a Greek Readers' Digest, thus sparing the ancient reader the struggle of reading the torrential work Lysias in its full-length version, cannot be completely discarded.

Strictly speaking, the first known [x] to a Lysianic speech is to be found in Dionysius of Halicarnassus' critical work on the orator,24 where the argument to the speech is given prior to the actual text of the oration 'to make it clear whether [Lysias] employed a proper and pertinent opening'.25 Perhaps even more significant for the present study -- due to the fact that they are, as P. Oxy. 31.2537, original ancient documents -- are the [x] to Dem. 21 in P. Lond. lit. 179 (1st-2nd century AD), which Gibson (2002) 201 aptly defines as 'a rhetorical prologue and commentary' which shows 'predominantly rhetorical interests",26 and the two[x] to Isocr. 1 and 2 placed before their respective speeches in P. Kell. 3 gr. 95 (4th century AD), probably the work of a schoolteacher,27 which "offer simplistic summaries of the speeches that would serve nicely as brief introductions to the speeches for early readers' (McNamee [2001] 907-8). Other later [x] are the ones put together by Libanius in the 4th century AD, whose 'scholarly and pedagogical agenda' (Gibson [1999]172) is clear, given the fact that the rhetorician himself describes his work as a preparatory reading, i.e. an introduction to Demosthenes' speeches; the [x] to Isocrates found in the extant Mediaeval manuscripts and ascribed to Zosimus (5th-6th century AD), whose context is plainly scholastic and introductory; and the ones in the Mediaeval tradition of Demosthenes28 and Isaeus, clear products of rhetorical schools, as the insistence on Hermagoras' stasis theory goes to show.29

Stasis-theory seeks to classify rhetorical problems (declamation forensic and deliberative situations) according to the underlying dispute that each involves.1 Such a classification is of interest to the practising rhetor, since it may help him identify an appropriate argumentative strategy; for example, patterns of argument appropriate to a question of fact (did the defendant do what is alleged?) may be irrelevant in an evaluative dispute (was the defendant justified in doing that?).

Ancient rhetoricians did not always agree on how to classify a given problem. Consider the case of the adulterous eunuch. A husband may kill an adulterer in the act; a man finds a eunuch in bed with his wife and kills him; he is charged with homicide. According to Hermogenes, the stasis is definition: the facts are agreed, and the dispute is about how to categorise those facts.2 Whatever the eunuch was up to, it was clearly not a fully-fledged instance of adultery; it (and indeed he) lacked something arguably essential to that crime. Is this 'incomplete' adultery nevertheless to be classed as adultery? If so, then the killing is covered by the law on adultery; if not, the killing is unlawful. But the case could also be interpreted as counterplea (antilepsis).3 Counterplea is a form of the stasis of quality, in which the defence maintains that the act for which it is charged is lawful in itself. For example: a rhetor's encomium on death is followed by a rash of suicides; he is charged with crimes against the public interest (demosia adikemata), and defends himself by arguing that he broke no law in practising his profession.4 On this analysis of the adulterous eunuch, the husband's appeal to the law of adultery is seen as determining the stasis as counterplea without further ado.

Disagreement over the classification of a rhetorical problem raises the question of how stasis is in general to be ascertained. According to Hermogenes, one must inspect the krinomenon: if that is unclear, the stasis is conjecture (36.8-9); if it is clear but incomplete, the stasis is definition (37.1-2); if it is complete, the stasis is quality (37.14-15), which in turn has manifold subdivisions. However, Hermogenes does not tell us what the krinomenon is or how one identifies it. The krinomenon also figures in the alternative analysis of the adulterous eunuch, where it is linked to two other concepts, aition and sunekhon, which make no appearance in Hermogenes. We know that the triad aition-sunekhon-krinomenon goes back to Hermagoras (fr. 18 Matthes); but the significance of the terms in his system is uncertain,5 and (as we shall see) in subsequent sources they are used in strikingly inconsistent ways. This paper attempts to trace the history of these and related terms, and conceptions of the fundamentals of stasis-theory from Hermagoras on.

_______________

Notes:

1 For an overview of stasis-theory see D. Russell, Greek Declamation (Cambridge, 1983), 40-73; G. Kennedy, Greek Rhetoric under Christian Emperors (Princeton, 1983), 73-86; L. Calboli Montefusco, La dottrina degli status nella retorica greca e romana (Hildesheim, 1986); and my commentary on Hermogenes [x] (Oxford, forthcoming).

2 See Hermogenes 60.19-61.3 Rabe. This case is found also in Sen. Contr. 1.2.23. A simpler variant in which the eunuch is prosecuted for adultery (RG 5.158.12-15, 7.217.21-4; Syrianus II 114.1 Rabe) is evidently definition.

3 See RG 5.158.8-159.6 Walz.

4 See RG 8.407.14-16; the same case with a philosopher is found in Fortunatianus, RLM 92.26-9 Halm.

5 See D. Matthes, 'Hermagoras von Temnos', Lustrum 3 (1958), 58-214, esp. 166-78 (with references to earlier literature). More recently: K. Barwick, 'Augustinus Schrift De Rhetorica und Hermagoras von Temnos', Philologus 105 (1961), 97-110; id., 'Zur Erklarung und Geschichte der Staseislehre des Hermagoras von Temnos', Philologus 108 (1964), 80-101; id. 'Probleme in den Rhet. LL Ciceros und der Rhetorik des sogenannten Auctor ad Herennium', Philologus 109 (1965), 57-74; J. Adamietz, M. F. Quintiliani Institutionis Oratoriae Liber III (Studia et Testimonia Antiqua 2, Munich, 1966), 206-21; L. Calboli Montefusco, 'La dottrina del KPINOMENON', Athenaeum 50 (1972), 276-93.
 
-- The Substructure of Stasis-Theory from Hermagoras to Hermogenes, by Malcolm Heath, The Classical Quarterly, Vol. 44, No. 1 (1994), pp. 114-129, 1994

What all these texts -- slightly different in length,30 predominant interest, and target readership -- have in common is, without exception, their subsidiary nature in relation to the original text and a didactic tone which are, in more than one occasion, undoubtedly patent [patents: archaic: accessible, exposed]: two shared features that, despite the homogeneity shining through these sources, do not seem to be constitutive parts of P. Oxy. 31.2537 as well. In this document, in fact, there is nothing to suggest that a subsequent reading of the actual speeches was encouraged by this set of [x]: it does not seem to serve as an introduction which aims at a better understanding of the Lysianic text, and no pedagogical or explanatory purpose can be envisaged. As a matter of fact, they appear to be a product concluded in itself, created to give a thorough, clear, and succinct overview of Lysias' (presumed) production, with no other aim but completeness.

Once again, the section devoted to speeches on slander (II. 6-29 recto) can help to illustrate this point.

The summary of Lys. 8 (II. 23-29) is the least useful to the purpose of the present study, and this is mainly due to the poor conditions of the papyrus in this section. This is particularly unfortunate, since the compiler's approach to such difficult a text would have given us further hints on his working principles. Nevertheless, a few useful clues still manage to emerge. First, the scribe or his source evidently recognized the [x] as a key aspect of this controversy: Rea's (1966) 27 suggestion [x] at I. 24 seems, indeed, the only possible reading of the traces. Second, as was already noted by the editor princeps Rea (1966) 30, 'it is clear that the hypothesis states the situation in the most general terms and makes no attempt to explain the very tangled transactions which made the speaker resign from his club': no personal names -- which, contrariwise, abound in the second part of the speech -- seem to be stated, and there is no mention of the pledging of the horse, which was a quite decisive aspect in the speaker's gradual epiphany of his associates' dishonesty. As is seems, then, the compiler is trying to keep it simple and straight to the main issue: the speaker was slandered by his companions [x who apparently said that he was associating with them against their will ([x] at I. 26).31

The [x] of Lys. 9 (II. 16-22), the speech on behalf of the soldier, which is, to some extent, vague and necessarily poor in details, deserves nevertheless our attention by virtue of some intriguing and yet overlooked aspects. First of all, together with the [x] of the speeches [x] (II. 6-15), these seven lines form part of the best-preserved portion of the papyrus. Secondarily -- and more importantly -- this [x] is entirely concerned with the narration of the events, that indeed seems to have been, in light of what is possible to infer from the extant text, the chief concern throughout the whole papyrus. This favourable concurrence of events adds to the fact that the [x] at issue deals with an extant speech, making it possible to outline, on the one hand, the relationship between the summary and its respective speech, and on the other hand, the compiler's synthesizing techniques. Gathering this kind of information on a fragmentary text is extremely useful precisely because, although the results are thoroughly verifiable only in uncommon occasions such as the present one, the general recognizable guidelines can reasonably be extended to the rest of the text as well.32

What clearly emerges from the analysis of this summary is that, although precise verbal coincidences33 suggest that the compiler was working with a text of the speech which was, if not identical, at least closely related to the one that represented the origin of the existing Mediaeval tradition, there was at least one attempt to provide the reader with a slightly reworked version, whose main purpose was probably to make explicit aspects of the plot which were implicit in the narrative of the original speech.34 Evidence of this way of proceeding can be easily tracked down in the very first line of the [x], where the compiler makes clear that the speaker had just got back from a previous military expedition: this detail, central to the understanding of the soldier's rash reaction towards the magistrates, is never specifically stated in the speech, but it is, without much effort, deducible from the narrative. This seems to suggest that the compiler, albeit not interested in matters of authorship and authenticity, at least wanted to get the story straight.

It could be argued, at this point, that the scribe might have tried to make patent some details of the narrative as a way of helping the reader during the examination of the actual speech. But the details he underlines, as was said, are easily evincible [to display clearly: reveal]: he never adds new information. Although, admittedly, the compiler's remarks could help the reader reach a better understanding of the text of the orations, this appears to be more of a side effect than the chief purpose: the scribe's primary concern is not much to clarify the text, but rather to relate plainly the contents of the speeches in what appears to be a literary product conceived as a means of knowing what is in the speech without actually reading it.

Another possible clue which might corroborate this impression -- that of a compiler who sometimes deduces details from the speeches and inserts them in his own narrative to make it flow more smoothly and concisely -- could be glimpsed through a confusion on personal names in I. 17, the first of this summary, where the speaker, Polyaenus, is identified as Callicrates. This confusion, for once, could be not entirely the compiler's fault, but rather arise from an abstruse remark in Lys. 9.5, where the speaker informs the jury that the magistrates apparently threatened to imprison him, [x], 'saying that "Polyaenus has been in town for no less time then Callicrates"'.35 As it is, the sentence admittedly makes little sense and is undeniably easy to misunderstand: what the speaker is clumsily trying to say is that the magistrates found his complaints meaningless, because Callicrates, presumably a fellow-conscript, had been residing in the city after his last campaign for the same -- or even a shorter -- period of time as the speaker, Polyaenus.36 Evidently the compiler, while trying to extrapolate from the text the defendant's name in order to set it out in front of the wondering reader, jumped to the wrong conclusion.37

The summary of Lys. 10-11 (II. 6-15) -- which is the longest in the preserved section of this codex38 -- represents one of the most interesting sections of P. Oxy. 31.2537. The compiler, after a brief statement on the only relevant event,39 devoted the longer section of this [x] to highlighting the only notable discrepancy between the two speeches at issue. Half of this summary (II. 10-15) is indeed solely committed to the mention of the difference between father's and son's ages in the two speeches: in the first one, at the moment of his father's death the speaker was 13 years old and the father 67,40 whereas in the second one, the speaker was 12 and the father 70.41 None of Lysias' client's refutation of Theomnestus' argument and none of his rather detailed remarks on legal terminology (cf. §§16-19) -- which probably played a central role in his rebuttal -- has made it to the [x] of this speech. Nonetheless, this dearth of information does not feel particularly striking if the nature of the text provided by this papyrus is taken into account: even a brisk reading goes to show that this document is not primarily concerned with any kind of 'rhetorical analysis' (Rea [1966] 25), but rather it aims to underline the main elements of the plot, in order to help the reader understand the gist of the trial.

In light of what has been said, it might appear surprising that, in this instance, there appears to be an attempt to depart from the nitty-gritty of the situation and give some sort of comment on a detail in the text of the speeches. It should be noted, however, that this remark is connected to a discrepancy relevant not much in itself, as a textual feature separate from the recounted facts, but rather in its implications for the content of the speeches, namely the chronological frame enclosing the events. Moreover, the fact that the ages do not match in the two speeches (II. 12- 13 [x]) represents indeed the only difference between them, at least when considering the plot: this detail, then, could have been used as a sort of identifying mark to tell the speeches apart -- or even as a kind of 'trivia' information.

5 Further Evidence: The Speeches For Euthynus against Nicias (II. 18-24 verso)

The idea of a compiler chiefly interested in the narrative plot of the speeches, strongly suggested by the style of the summaries thus far examined, seems to be supported also by a very interesting parallel: that between the double [x] of the speeches [x] (II. 18-24 verso) and the summary of Isocr. 21, the speech [x], found in Stephanus Skylitzes' 12th-century commentary on Aristotle's Rhetoric.42

As was probably the case with the [x],43 Lysias and Isocrates had acted as logographers44 for the two opposing parties in the same lawsuit -- Lysias for the defence and Isocrates for the prosecution. It is quite obvious, then, that the background story is the same for both speeches, as is confirmed also by the fact that Rea (1966) 36 was able to supplement the first three lines of the Lysianic [x] on the basis of Isocr. 21. This summary, as usual, does not strive to collect details useful for a rhetorical analysis of the text, but rather to relate plainly and straightforwardly the salient elements of this litigation. Interestingly, it seems possible that the last part of the [x] was devoted, as in the double [x] in II. 6-15 recto, to the mention of the most notable -- at least to the compiler's mind -- differences between the two speeches summarized here. Indeed, in I. 22 there seems to be a reference to the fact that in one of the speeches the orator, possibly Euthynus,45 spoke ill of Isocrates46 ([x]):47 once again, a nice 'fun fact' about the speech at issue. Leaving aside the implications of this remark on Isocrates, which would deserve a specific discussion of its own,48 it is important to notice, here, that the summarizing techniques employed by the compiler of P. Oxy. 31.2537 seem to share some revealing similarities with the summary of Isocr. 21 put together by Stephanus.

While commenting on a passage in Arist. Rh. 1392 b 14-15, a section embedded within a discussion on possible and impossible used in arguments from probability,49 Stephanus offers a brief summary of Isocrates' Against Euthynus50 to explain Aristotle's use of a quotation from this speech.51 Stephanus' summary, like the ones featured in our papyrus, is quite clearly mainly focused on the actual events from which the trial arose. Now, since Stephanus is commenting on Aristotle, and not on Isocrates, his summary of the speech probably did not aim to encourage or make easier a further reading of the Isocratic speech: its purpose was just that of giving to the reader an idea of the contents of the speech, without actually having to read it, to understand what Aristotle was talking about.

The fact that the information, the wording, and the structure of Stephanus' summary are quite similar to the ones presented by the summary of the Lysianic speech encompassed in these lines could represent further evidence for the fact that the list of [x] compiled here might be a sort of annotated catalogue, whose purpose was the same as Stephanus' summary: make the reader aware of the contents while saving him the struggle of reading the original work, just like the modern Readers' Digest.

6 Conclusions

When it was still intact, P. Oxy. 31.2537 must have been a truly remarkable document. As a matter of fact, when one considers that only one leaf of that codex, retrieved by chance from a rubbish heap in Egypt, has handed down to posterity the plot of 22 speeches by Lysias,18 of which were previously unknown, it seems quite likely that almost all the other pages had been equally rich in new information on the work of the logographer.52

But 'quantity' does not necessarily mean 'quality', and the fact that the compiler of P. Oxy. 31.2537 does not seem concerned with '[x]-related' problems has been repeatedly pinpointed during the examination of this material: at least four [x], and potentially even more, were not furnished with Harpocration's seal of approval, and were nonetheless featured in this collection.

Rea (1966) 24-25 rightly pointed out that there is a possibility for Harpocration to have been in Oxyrhynchus during the rule of Marcus Aurelius. It is also likely that, along with his host, Valerius Pollio, and his host's son, Valerius Diodorus, the lexicographer had been part of a coterie of intellectuals with a strong interest in Attic oratory53 which revolved around the middle-Egyptian region. The presence of this 'centre for oratorical studies' right in 2nd-century Oxyrhynchus could lead the reader into thinking that there could have been a link between that group of scholars and the set of [x] collected in P. Oxy. 31.2537. This, however, does not seem to be the case. As Turner (1952) 92 clarifies, in fact, 'for their work such persons would not be content with less than the best available texts of Classical authors', and the summaries presented in this papyrus not only do not seem to fit in this description themselves, but also appear to be derived from a collection of Lysianic speeches which had nothing to do with the erudite discussions on authenticity that were realistically going on in Valerius Pollio's house.

Valeri Pollio (in Latin Valerius Pollio) was a Greek philosopher of the School of Alexandria.

He lived in the time of the emperor Hadrian and was the father of the philosopher Diodorus of Alexandria. It appears mentioned in the Suides as Πωλίων.

-- Valeri Pollio, by Wikipedia

Moreover, along with the fact that the compiler of these [x] seems completely oblivious of questions of authorship, he also appears to neglect any kind of rhetorical analysis of the speech at issue. This lack of interest is particularly intriguing precisely because, on the contrary, a rhetorical examination of the key aspects of the speeches manifests itself as a prominent feature of other known summaries of rhetorical material: for instance, Libanius' [x] to the speeches of Demosthenes, put together for 'the elderly and ill-fated proconsul of Constantinople, Lucius Caelius Montius' (Gibson (1999] 173) around 352 AD, and the summaries found in the Mediaeval manuscripts of the works of Isocrates, Isaeus, and Demosthenes all appear to be introductory works, clear products of the rhetorical school, and influenced deeply by the rhetorical stasis theory outlined by Hermagoras (mid-2nd century BC). It could be argued that perhaps the [x] as a genre developed over time, and that the summaries contained in P. Oxy. 31.2537, being older than the ones just mentioned, were also, in a way, more rudimentary. Nevertheless, to undermine this assumption it is sufficient to examine P. Lond. lit. 179, a papyrus dated to the end of the 1st or the beginning of the 2nd century AD which contains the summary of the Dem. 21 and shows interests similar to the one presented by the later [x] mentioned above. P. Kell. 3 gr. 95 (4th century AD) is, under many aspects, similar to P. Oxy. 31.2537, and seems to have been produced in a school context, a fact that could suggest a similar context for our papyrus as well. Nevertheless, despite its similarities with P. Oxy. 31.2537 -- namely, the codex-format and the brevity of the summaries -- P. Kell. 3 gr. 95 is remarkably different precisely in those characteristics which make it more likely to be a school text aimed at encouraging a subsequent reading of the speeches it summarizes: the [x] are followed by the original speeches, and the speeches themselves are accompanied by some simple marginal comments.54 Moreover, P. Kell. 3 gr. 95 seems to share with the other documents containing [x] a subsidiary nature in relation to the original text and a patent pedagogical intention: two features that, as was highlighted above, do not seem to be sought for by the compiler of P. Oxy. 31.2537. 55

The only elements that appear to interest him, in fact, are the ones connected to the plot, the relation of the events relevant to the trial: once again, the section on [x] has been particularly helpful in understanding this point, mainly because the conclusions drawn on the summarizing method of the compiler had been positively verified on the original version of the text -- or at least a version that was really close to the text as it was transmitted thanks to Pal. gr. 88 56 -- and consequently applied more in general to the remaining [x].

The impression that the compiler was particularly keen on relating, plainly and simply, only the facts relevant to the trial seems supported by the fact that even in the (very few) instances in which some sort of departure from the heart of the matter can be detected, the information provided could be explained as a sort of curiosity, a 'fun fact' that manifests itself as the most notable aspect of the situation. Interestingly, these remarks appear precisely in the two couples of 'double-[x]' featured in this collection: on the one hand, the discrepancy in the ages of father and son in the two speeches [x] (II. 11-16 recto), which represents, in practice, the only real difference between the two (at least with regard to the plot); on the other hand, in the speech [x] (II. 18- 23 verso), the curious remark that someone apparently spoke ill of Isocrates the speechwriter (II. 22-23 verso). These details, then, could easily be explained as a service to the reader to distinguish between two speeches which dealt with the exact same situation.

However, once the structure of these summaries has been examined and a subsidiary or introductory nature in relation to the full-length versions of the speeches is ruled out, a central question, that of the original purpose and destination of this collection of summaries, is still left unanswered. If the aim that Van Rossum-Steenbeek (1998) 161 identified for the selection of [x] she analyzed was, consistently, that of accompanying, clarifying, and commenting on the texts they were related to, but P. Oxy. 31.2537 does not fit in this category, in which category does it fit instead?

The short and honest answer to this question is, of course, that it is impossible to know for sure. What is possible, however, is to try nonetheless and sift through some tentative suggestions. One of the most striking aspects that comes to mind, while considering P. Oxy. 31.2537, is undoubtedly its relative similarity with the inventories of books on papyri analyzed by Puglia (2013) which, in fact, 'sono quasi sempre modesti e semplici' [GT: 'I am almost always modest and simple'], and reveal 'scopi per lo piu pratici e non filologici' [GT: 'scope for the most practical and non-philological'] (p. 4), just like the [x] collected on P. Oxy. 31.2537. Moreover, although many of them appear to have been produced for private use, thus presenting a slapdash format which has nothing to do with the neat arranging of the material on P. Oxy. 31.2537, there are nevertheless some notable exceptions such as, for instance, P. Ross. Georg. 1.22, which is written more roughly but, as our document, appears to be featured on a piece of papyrus that was not re-used, but was meant exactly for the purpose of compiling these inventories.57 The idea of an inventorial destination for P. Oxy. 31.2537 could indeed be fitting, also because the compiler, as was said, does not appear to be making a selection, but rather a list of all the putative works of Lysias at his disposal, since he includes a great deal of items regardless of their authenticity (cf. above). As Canfora (1995) 166 emphasizes, for the speeches of the Attic Orators 'non c'era stata [ ... ] la determinazione [ ... ] di un testo "ufficiale"' [GT: 'Not there had been [...] the determination [...] of an "official" text '], and the fact that in 2nd-century Egypt there could have been corpora of Lysianic speeches resembling what Dover (1968) 2 denominates 'Corpus G', i.e. the collection of works on which Pol. gr. 88 was drawn -- or indeed the elusive 'Corpus A', the (alleged) opera omnia of the metic logographer58 -- is indeed quite likely, and it does not seem improbable that, at some point, there might have arisen a need or a desire to catalogue that astonishing amount of material. This was probably being circulated in single collections of speeches arranged thematically around the same legal issues, a mode of circulation that would be mirrored in the subdivisions in which this papyrus is organized.59 Nevertheless, if this is really the case, it would seem improbable that such a huge number of speeches of Lysias could be contained in one single private library. Judging from this, and from the relative elegance of the format of P. Oxy. 31.2537, this leaf of papyrus codex could perhaps be seen as part of the catalogue of a public library, such as P. Oxy. 27.2456, 27.2462, 33.2659, and 35.2739. 60 We should note, however, that these catalogues were generally written on rolls, and were mostly arranged in alphabetical order.61 Moreover, none of them presents [x] attached to the titles mentioned.

Other interpretations are equally possible. If P. Oxy. 31.2537 were indeed some sort of annotated catalogue, as the same structure of the headings could suggest, there might not be the need to think of the inventory of a library, public or private, but rather of the catalogue of a bookseller, whose business interests highly advised against a clear-cut distinction between [x] and not-so-[x] works of a given author. In this case, the short summary of the speech, with -- when convenient -- an indication of the 'fun facts' about it, would have served as a sort of 'teaser trailer' of the oration, compiled in order to intrigue the potential reader -- and lead him to buy a copy of the work at issue. The very neat handwriting and arrangement of the material, however, which are in sharp contrast with other documents that have been identified as catalogues of booksellers,62 seems to discourage this hypothesis.

Lastly, another possibility has to be taken into account. As it has been tried to pinpoint, the main purpose of these brief summaries seems to have been that of providing the reader with 'condensed versions of texts', and no ancillary relationship with the original speech can be detected. If the most accurate definition of a Readers' Digest is that of 'a digested collection of information consisting of [ ... ] material derived from or based on earlier writings, which is meant to be read for its own sake' (Van Rossum-Steenbeek [1998]161), it might not be desperately unconceivable that these [x], unlike the ones analyzed by Van Rossum-Steenbeek, could, all things considered, fall quite nicely under that definition. The very format of this document -- the codex, much more manoeuvrable and 'user-friendly' than the roll -- seems to characterize the ideal reader for P. Oxy. 31.2537 as someone who does not wish to read this work continuously, but rather to browse quickly through its contents and locate easily the item they are looking for. If this latter hypothesis is true, then the readership P. Oxy. 31.2537 was directed to (or commissioned by) was perhaps represented by that fancy (but perhaps not always erudite) upper class of the Oxyrhynchus region, which sometimes could have been, as often happens today, too busy -- or perhaps too lazy -- to read the entire monstrous bulk of the works of Lysias, but still had the desire to make a good impression and strike their equally rich, and possibly much more learned, friends as profound connoisseurs of the speeches of the famous logographer. Provided, ca va sans dire [GT: it goes without saying], that no-one decided to ask too much.

7 Appendix: Texts

col. 1 recto, II. 6-29

[x]

col. 2 verso II. 18-28

[x]

col. 2 verso II. 42-45

[x]

[admin]

Part 2 of 2

_______________

Notes

1 A preliminary search on the LDAB and on MP 3 showed that there are around 130 papyri transmitting the work of Isocrates, and around 200 documents containing speeches of the Demosthenic corpus (last checked on 24/04/2020).

2 Cf. Medda (2007) 40. In Roman antiquity, there existed 425 speeches attributed to Lysias, but Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Caecilius of Calacte deemed authentic only 233 of them (cf. X orat. 836a). The exact number can be extrapolated from Photo Bibl. 262, 488b, while Dian. Hal. Lys. 17 mentions generically 'no fewer than two hundred orations' ([x]). To the present day, there are one 172 titles of speeches by Lysias, easily traceable thanks to the painstaking reconstruction put together by Blass (1887) 357-75. which have to be integrated with the ones in P. Oxy.31.2537.

3 Codex unicus for orr. 3-31 (the so- called corpusculum, cf. Dover (1968] 2) is Pal. gr. 88, generally labelled as X, a manuscript dated to the 11th century (cf. Cavallo [1986]127), today in Heidelberg. This codex is entirely made up of speeches representing different genres and authors: along with these 32 Lysianic orations, one of which, the Against Nicides, was completely obliterated due to a physical damage of the manuscript, there are two speeches by Alcidamas, two by Anthistenes, one by Demades, and the Gorgian Encomium of Helen. Nevertheless, orr. 1-2 in Pal. gr. 88 have been represented in other Mediaeval manuscripts as well: it is worth noting, as Indelli (2001) 198 does, how 'la piu ampia tradizione delle prime due orazioni del Corpus Lysiacum rispetto alle altre trovi un riscontro nei pur scarsi ritrovamenti papiracei' [GT: 'the broader tradition of the first two prayers of Corpus Lysiacum compared to the others finds a confirmation in the scarce ones papyrus findings']: notably, P. Londo inv. 2852 + P. Ryl. 3.489 offers fragment of the [x], and so does P. Lauro inv. 3/284 B, while PSI 11.1206 gives some bits of the [x]. This coincidence seems to show that 'forse, non soltanto in eta medievale e umanistica, ma gia nell'Egitto del II-III secolo d.C. esisteva un piu spiccato interesse per questi due discorsi' [GT: 'perhaps, not only in the medieval and humanistic ages, but already in Egypt of the 2nd-3rd century AD there was a more pronounced interest in these two speeches'] (Indelli (2001] 198). Orr. 32-34 of the corpus were preserved thanks to extensive quotations by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, while the [x], reported by Plato's Phaedrus and 'probably a pastiche by Plato himself' (Todd [2007]5), is ordinarily labelled as or. 35 in modern editions of Lysias' work.

4 Cocurullo (2001) lists and analyzes six of them (P. Hibeh 14, P. Oxy. 13.1606, P. Lond. inv. 2852 + P. Ryl. 3.489, P. Rain. 13, PSI 11.1206, and our P. Oxy. 31.2537), to which we must also add the already mentioned P. Lauro inv. 3/284 B, P. Oxy. 69.4715, P. Oxy. 69.4716, and PSI inv. 966.

5 Rea (1966) 23-37.

6 These are Lys. 8-11, grouped under the heading [x] but in the reverse order (cf. below).

7 Van Rossum-Steenbeek (1998) xiii aptly describes subliterary papyri 'as a subcategory of literary papyri because, on the one hand and in contrast to documentary papyri, the texts are usually written in literary hands and their contents have certain links with literary texts. On the other hand, the texts are not considered literary themselves because they do not belong to one of the traditional literary genres in view of their contents and/or style and because they give no evidence of literary pretentions'.

8 Described also as Strenger Stil by Schubart (1925) 124-8. and as unciale bacchilidea by Norsa (1939) 21-22, who defines it as a 'scrittura snella e slanciata, che sa armonizzare elegantemente il contrasto tra lettere larghe e lettere strettissime' [GT: 'slender and slender writing, which knows how to elegantly harmonize the contrast between large letters and very narrow letters']. The most refined example is represented by P. Lond. inv. 733, edited for the first time by Kenyon (1897).

9 The organization based on the legal procedure is not a specific trait of this papyrus only: the same principle can be envisaged also in P. Oxy. 13.1606 and in P. Rain. 13 (cf. Medda [2003] 27- 28), and vestiges of it are still visible in Pal. gr. 88: d. Dover (1968) 7-11.

10 As firstly pointed out by Rea (1966) 23-24. It might also be noted that the fact that short speeches by the same author did often circulate together on the same roll explains why some of these 'conservano un ordinamento stabile in tutta la tradizione' [GT: 'retain a stable order throughout the tradition'] (Cavallo [1986] 121). The order of the speeches [x] (Lys. 8-11) is quite clearly not completely fixed, but it seems safe to assume that they started to circulate as a unitary group at a rather early stage.

11 Cf. II. 12-13 [x] and, most notably, I. 15 [x].

12 No major commentary on the work of Lysias appears to argue otherwise, and Lys. 11 'is verbally so close to Lys. 10 as to enable textual emendation in the latter' (Todd [2007] 702), so that the fact that it was an epitome of the full version of the speech seems unquestionable.

13 Or it could be that the fact that Lys. 11 was simply an epitome of Lys. 10 was so blatantly obvious to him that he did not really deem it worthy of his time. Furthermore, Harpocration appears to be concerned mainly with the antiquated words found in the ample discussion on legal terminology in Lys. 10.16-19, which are notably missing in Lys. 11.

14 Harpocration quotes the speech in six separate occasions, adding the words [x], 'if [the speech] is genuine', four times: Harp. [x] 179, 201, [x] 64, 76 (with the [x]-clause), [x] 106, [x] 5 K. (without any specifications).

15 The fact that Harpocration never mentioned Lys. 11 encouraged scholars to think that it was produced after his time. According to Rea ([1966] 29), 'this papyrus does not disprove that theory, but it is strange if the [x] turned up after Harpocration's work on the orators and was accepted here without comment'. While it is true that the papyrus is not decisive in determining whether Lys. 11 was put together after Harpocration's time or not, the fact that, even if it was, there are no comments on the matter seems actually hardly surprising, given that the papyrus offers barely any comment at all.

16 Harp. [x] 66 K.

17 Although it is clear that the speaker, Polyaenus, did slander the magistrates, it is also clear that he was never brought to court by means of a 5[x] -- he was simply summarily fined.

18 It is interesting to highlight that, although the titles of the speeches in this papyrus and on Pal. gr. 88 generally coincide, 'the overlap [ ... ] is not in this instance complete' (Todd [2007] 546): while the Mediaeval manuscript reads [x], P. Oxy. 31.2537 only gives the bit [x]. Evidently, therefore, Theodorus -- the 'principal scribe' (Sosower [1987] 7) of Pal. gr. 88 -- or his sources justified the outlandish presence of Lys. 8 in the corpus by clearly labelling it in the title as an 'accusation of calumny', but the compiler of P. Oxy. 31.2537 did not find this clarification in his sources, nor he felt the need to explain the presence of this peculiar speech among the ones concerned with slander.

19 As Dover ([1968] 9) puts it, 'the speaker of VIII is obsessed with what his associates have said about him' (author's italics), and the concepts of [x] (§§3, 5-6, 14, 16-17, 19-20), [x] (§§3, 15) and [x] (§§3, 7, 13) function as a Leitmotiv throughout the whole speech. While considering the Mediaeval manuscripts, Blass ([1887] 378) was the first to notice that [x] is, in this section, not much the specific legal charge joining together these four speeches, but rather some sort of fil rouge [GT: red string] binding them in more generic terms, as a thematic connection that can be loosely envisaged, 'provided that [the speeches] are read hastily and superficially' (Dover (1968) 9).

20 Harp. [x] 209 K.

21 And which, lamentably, cannot be reconstructed in any of its forms anywhere in II. 24-28 verso. Being able to supplement this verb in the text of P. Oxy. 31.2537 would have constituted almost incontestable evidence of the fact that the speech mentioned by Photius and the one summarized in these lines are one and the same.

22 As was first suggested by Dover (1968) 21-22.

23 E.g. in I. 6 recto: [x].

24 Dion. Hal. Lys. 20-21. The word [x] is also used to refer to a rapid outline of the speech's occasion placed before the text in §29, and in Isoc. 9 to define a long paraphrase of the contents of the speech.

25 Cf. Dion. Hal. Lys. 22.

26 On the rhetorical (and grammatical) interests of this text, see most recently Otranto (2012), especially 162-5.

27 Cf. Worp/Rijksbaron (1997) 28.

28 As Canfora's ([1968] 96) inventory of Demosthenes' Greek manuscripts plainly shows, several Demosthenic manuscripts contained 'altro materia le biografico-esegetico' [GT: 'other material biographical-esegetic'], among which there were 'hypotheseis anonime dei grandi discorsi giudiziari di argomento politico (che, quando non sono premesse alle relative orazioni, precedono i relativi "Commentari di Ulpiano")' [GT: 'anonymous hypotheseis of the great judicial speeches of political argument (which, when there are no premises to the related orations, precede the relative "Commentaries of Ulpian")'] (p. 19). These manuscripts clearly represent editions put together for the use of highly educated people.

29 Cf. Meccariello (2014) 22- 23.

30 Although generally longer than the ones in P. Oxy. 31.2537, with the exception of P. Kell. 3 gr. 95.

31 Rea ([1966) 30) quotes Lys. 8.5 ([x]). If Carey's ([2007] 481) conjecture [x] is correct, the compiler seemingly conflated two verbs into one that implies them both.

32 This idea has been expressed as an essential precondition of her work on Euripidean [x] by Meccariello (2014) xiii.

33 E.g. [x] (I. 18) [x] (§4), [x] (I. 18) [x] (§6), [x] (I. 19) [x] (§6) and the reference to the [x] (I. 20), a term which, such as [x], appears to be used in the generic meaning of 'clerks' instead of the more appropriate [x] (cf. MacDowell [1994] 161).

34 For example, in this papyrus the plural [x] (I. 19) is employed, while in the Mediaeval text these public figures are designated with the rather cryptic [x] (§6). On the basis of Lys. 14.21 and 16.16, where the plural indicates 'not the Nine Arkhons but more broadly "officials", (Todd [2007] 583), it is now preferred to regard Ctesicles not as the Chief Archon but as one of the generals, reading the term [x], more broadly, as 'person who holds and [x] (cf. MacDowell [1994] 157). Whether the compiler of P. Oxy. 31.2537 read [x] in the narrow or in the broad sense is completely irrelevant, but it is interesting to notice that he simplified a potentially tricky sentence by suppressing the personal name and combining into one single definition Ctesicles and his 'fellow-generals' or 'attendants'.

35 According to Rea ([1966] 30), 'it looks as if the epitomizer had a different text or drew the wrong conclusion'. Both solutions are in theory possible, but the sentence in itself is so convoluted that it is perhaps enough to explain the compiler's mistake, without postulating the existence of a concurrent text.

36 It could even be argued that this pythoness-like sentence was the reason why, although the name of the speaker can, after some reasoning, be rather confidently worked out, the speech was known with such a generic title as [x], since normally, in the Lysianic corpus, when names do not appear in the heading it is because they are nowhere to be found in the text: perhaps no-one felt sure enough about the name of the defendant as to immortalize it in the speech title.

37 It should be noted that the compiler, at least in two occasions, drew a sign on the left-hand margin of the page to indicate the presence of textual discrepancies: first between II. 13-14 recto ([x]), and second between II. 30-31 recto ([x] ?), where there are good reasons to suspect that the name [x] was, in other versions of the text, substituted by the name [x]. The fact that, in this instance, no such device is employed could suggest either that the vulgate of this speech, at that time, was indeed different and that the compiler did not double-check it against the secondary version which, for some reason, was passed on to the Mediaeval tradition -- or originated at a later point in the tradition -- or, more likely, that there was ultimately no concurring text: he simply misinterpreted a rough-hewn sentence which is admittedly easy to misinterpret, and surely not likely to be read twice by someone whose main concern seems to be not much accuracy in details but rather clarity in the general picture.

38 With nine lines of text (not counting the speeches' title), it is even longer than the [x] in II. 18-23 verso (consisting of six lines of text), [x],' which equally examines two speeches at a time.

39 The fact that Theomnestus has accused Lysias' client of having killed his own father is the cause and sole object of the trial: nothing else happens. The compiler could have described the previous sequence of trials, but this information was not strictly relevant to the present litigation, and he probably found more appropriate to make his reader aware of the two potential chronological frames within which it was possible to set the events.

40 Cf. Lys. 10.4 and 27.

41 Cf. Lys. 11.1-2 and9.

42 For date and author of this commentary, see Wolska-Conus (1976).

43 Cf. above.

44 There are reasons to suspect that at least part of the ancient sources believed Isocrates to have also delivered the speech in his own persona. For instance, in I. 22 verso of P. Oxy. 31.2537 Lysias' client seems to be said to have uttered abuse towards Isocrates (cf. below), not towards Isocrates' client. The compiler of this papyrus proves elsewhere that he (or his source) is aware of the fact that speechwriter and litigant -- at least in our extant court speeches -- do not often coincide: this is patent from the observation, added to the title of the speech[x] (II. 12-14 verso), that Lysias delivered the speech himself (I. 12 [x]). The fact that the compiler considered this note significant appears to stem directly from his consciousness that this was a deviation from the norm, so his remark on Isocrates being reviled in court is in itself very interesting -- there could have been something, in Lysias' speech, that led the compiler to believe that Isocrates was speaking on behalf of Nicias. Moreover, both Stephanus' summary of Isocr. 21 and the wording of the Aristotelian passage seem to imply that Isocrates himself delivered the speech. On this, see Rocchi (forthcoming).

45 He is said to be a better orator than Nicias in Isocr. 21.5.

46 As Trevett ([1990] 25 n. 15) clarifies, 'although it is possible that the epitomist was saying that Isocrates abused Euthynos (or Lysias)' it is far more probable 'that in such a brief summary he would have confined himself to the contents of the speech, and that he is describing abuse of Isocrates contained in the speech'.

47 Martinelli Tempesta (CPF 1/2** 974) points out that the traces on the papyrus are not entirely compatible with [x], so there is a palaeographic reason to be suspicious of the most logical supplement, [x], suggested by Cocurullo ([2001] 160) and Carey ([2007] 480). The trace as it is now -- though of course one can never turn aside the possibility that part of the ink was scraped away over time -- appears to be more compatible with [x], in which case the copyist might have got confused and written [x] instead of [x] (cf. Gignac [1976] 275-6).

48 This can be found in Rocchi (forthcoming).

49 That is, 'a rhetorical device used in ancient Athenian litigations as a means of persuading the jury' (Fairchild [1978] 49).

50 This text can be read in CAG XXI/2, 299: [x].

51 [x].

52 Either an unprecedented stroke of luck presented philologists with the only two pages in the codex which were abnormally rich in new titles or the presence of the summaries of a considerable number of new speeches was consistent throughout the whole codex -- or the whole section of the codex dedicated to Lysias' work.

53 Valerius Pollio wrote a [x], while Valerius Diodorus was author of an [x]: cf. Turner ([1952] 92), who refers to Suda [x] 1150 (s.v. [x]) and [x] 2166 (s.v. [x]), and to Phot. Bibl. 149 and 150 (nn. 1-2). A relationship between Harpocration and Valerius Pollio seems to be confirmed also by P. Oxy. 18.2192, a private letter with a book request in which both a Harpocration and a Pollio are mentioned. On this papyrus, see Otranto ([2000] xxiv-xxv and especially 55-61) and, most recently, Coles et al. ([2007] 282-6).

54 Cf. Worp/Rijksbaran (1997, especially 28-30).

55 Of course, it is not possible entirely to rule out the possibility that P. Oxy. 31.2537 was indeed produced in a scholastic environment. However, along with the reasons mentioned above, it should perhaps be noted that Lysias does not seem to have been as popular as Isocrates and Demosthenes as a school reading.

56 That the text the summary was primed on was close to the one preserved by the Mediaeval tradition of Lysias is guaranteed by the fact that the discrepancy between the ages of the father and the son in Lys. 10-11 is mentioned in this [x] as well (II. 11-15 recto).

57 Cf. Otranto ([2000] 87) and Puglia ([2013] 89-90).

58 As was mentioned above, Lysias was said to have composed 425 speeches. Assuming an average of 22 speeches per leaf (the number we have in P. Oxy. 31.2537), this codex should then have been made up of c. 18-20 leaves (i.e. 9-10 sheets, cf. Turner [1977]. esp. 43-54) in order to contain them all. This slim number of leaves could suggest that the codex, when it was still complete, might have contained not only summaries of speeches of Lysias, but of other authors (orators?) as well. However, as Cavallo ([1986] 123) has shown, 'non s'incontrano fino allo scorcio del III secolo codici che si mostrino materialmente adeguati ad un contenuto ampio' [GT: 'Not up to the end of the third century one meets codes that are shown materially suitable for a broad content'] (author's italics).

S9 Cf. above.

60 Analyzed by Otranto ([2000] 51-54; 44-49; 29-38; 41-43). Two of them (P. Oxy. 33.2659 and 35.2739) are dated to the 2nd century, one (27.2462) to mid 2nd century, and one (27.2456) to the late 2nd century.

61 Cf. Otranto ([2000] xii). It is worth noting, however, that P. Oxy. 35.2739 is not in alphabetical order. Moreover, these catalogues contained lists of plays (comedies and, in the case of P. Oxy. 27.2456, tragedies). Alphabetical order would not make much sense for speeches whose titles were usually more unstable than those of theatrical plays, and which were very often arranged according to legal procedure or thematic affinity (cf. above).

62 Cf. for instance P. Vars. 5 v, analyzed by Otranto (2000) 97-105.

[admin]

Dionysius of Halicarnassus
by Wikipedia
Accessed: 10/25/22


An image of Dionysius of Halicarnassus from the Codices Ambrosiani.
Born: c. 60 BC, Halicarnassus, Asia, Roman Republic (now Bodrum, Muğla, Turkey)
Died: c. 7 BC (aged around 53), Rome, Roman Empire (now Rome, Italy)
Citizenship: Roman
Occupation: Historian; Rhetoric; Writer

Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ancient Greek: Διονύσιος Ἀλεξάνδρου Ἁλικαρνασσεύς, Dionúsios Alexándrou Halikarnasseús, ''Dionysios (son of Alexandros) of Halikarnassos''; c.  60 BC – after 7 BC) was a Greek historian and teacher of rhetoric, who flourished during the reign of Emperor Augustus.[1] His literary style was atticistic – imitating Classical Attic Greek in its prime.

Dionysius' opinion of the necessity of a promotion of paideia within education, from true knowledge of classical sources, endured for centuries in a form integral to the identity of the Greek elite.[2]

Life

He was a Halicarnassian.[2] At some time after the end of the civil wars he moved to Rome, and spent twenty-two years studying Latin and literature and preparing materials for his history.[3] During this period, he gave lessons in rhetoric, and enjoyed the society of many distinguished men. The date of his death is unknown.[4] In the 19th century, it was commonly supposed that he was the ancestor of Aelius Dionysius of Halicarnassus.[5]

Works

His major work, entitled Rhōmaïkḕ Arkhaiología (Ῥωμαϊκὴ Ἀρχαιολογία, ''Roman Antiquities''), narrates the history of Rome from the mythical period to the beginning of the First Punic War in twenty books, of which the first nine remain extant while the remaining books only exist as fragments,[3] in the excerpts of the Roman emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus [6 June 913 – 9 November 959; (1,000 YEARS LATER!)] and an epitome [An abridgment; a brief summary or abstract of a subject, or of a more extended exposition of it; a compendium containing the substance or principal matters of a book or other writing.] discovered by Angelo Mai in a Milan manuscript.

'Ambr': A collection of miscellaneous excerpts, in chronological order, in a 15th century Milan MS; also in a second MS which is a copy of it. The collection was carelessly edited by Cardinal Angelo Mai in 1816. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

Q / Milan, Ambrosian Library / Ambrosianus Q 13 sup. / 15th

A / Milan, Ambrosian Library / Ambrosianus A 80 sup. (Copy of Q) / ???

The order and location of the fragments can usually be determined, since Stephanus of Byzantium gives the books in which he found various people and places mentioned. However his references in books 17 and 18 are confused, so these are more uncertain.

-- Dionysius of Halicarnassus: the Manuscripts of "The Roman Antiquities", by Roger Pearse, tertullian.org, June 14, 2002

Angelo Mai (Latin Angelus Maius; 7 March 1782 – 8 September 1854) was an Italian Cardinal and philologist. He won a European reputation for publishing for the first time a series of previously unknown ancient texts. These he was able to discover and publish, first while in charge of the Ambrosian Library in Milan and then in the same role at the Vatican Library. The texts were often in parchment manuscripts that had been washed off and reused; he was able to read the lower text using chemicals. [NO CITATIONS!]

In particular he was able to locate a substantial portion of the much sought-after De republica of Cicero and the complete works of Virgilius Maro Grammaticus.

-- by Angelo Mai, by Wikipedia

Dionysius is the first major historian of early Roman history whose work is now extant. Several other ancient historians who wrote of this period, almost certainly used Dionysius as a source for their material. The works of Appian, Plutarch and Livy all describe similar people and events of Early Rome as Dionysius.[citation needed]

Summary outline of “Roman Antiquities”

In the preamble to Book I, Dionysius states that the Greek people lack basic information on Roman history, a deficiency he hopes to fix with the present work.

Book I (1300?)–753 BC

Mythic early history of Italy and its people. Book I also narrates the history of Aeneas and his progeny as well as Dionysius' telling of the Romulus and Remus myth, ending with the death of Remus.

Book II 753–673 BC

The Roman monarchy's first two Kings, Romulus and Numa Pompilius. Romulus formulates customs and laws for Rome. Sabine war -- as in subsequent parts of the history, this early conflict is described as involving numerous categories of officer, thousands of infantry, and cavalry combatants. This is highly unlikely, but is a common anachronism [An error in respect to dates; any error which implies the misplacing of persons or events in time; hence, anything foreign to or out of keeping with a specified time.] found in ancient historians.

Book III 673–575 BC

Kings Tullus Hostilius through Lucius Tarquinius Priscus.

Book IV 575–509 BC

Last of the Roman kings and end of the monarchy with overthrow of Lucius Tarquinius Superbus.

Book V 509-497 BC

Start of Roman Republic and Consular years.

Book VI 496–493 BC

Includes the first instance of Plebeian secession.

Book VII 492–490 BC

This book describes at length the background leading to the Roman Coriolanus’ trial, ending in his exile. Much of the book is a debate between supporters of the oligarchy and the plebeians.

Book VIII 489–482 BC

Coriolanus, now exiled, allies with Rome’s current primary enemy, the Volscians. Coriolanus leads the Volscian army on a successful campaign against Roman allies and finally is near to capturing Rome itself. Coriolanus’ mother intercedes for the Roman state and manages to end the military campaign. Coriolanus then is treacherously murdered by the Volscians. The remaining part of the book covers the military campaigns to recover land from the Volscians.

Book IX 481–462 BC

Various military campaigns of mixed fortune in foreign matters. Domestically the plebeians and patricians argue and the conflict of the orders continues. The number of Tribunes is raised from 5 to 10. Book IX ends with the first two years of the decemvirate and the creation of the first Roman Law Tables.

Note

Manuscripts - books 1-10.

These were used by Jacoby for books 1-10:

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date-Century

A / ??? / Chisanus 58 / 10th century

B / Rome, Vatican / Urbinas 105 / 10th-11th century

C / ??? / Coislinianus 150 (also contains book 11 - see below) / 16th

D / Paris, BNF / Regius Parisinus 1654 & 1655 / 16th

E / Rome, Vatican / Vaticanus 133 (also contains book 11 = 'V' below) / 15th

F / Rome, Vatican / Urbinas 106 (contains books 1-5 only) / 15th

A and B are the best MSS - the others are all late and some, particularly C and D, contain numerous interpolations [the insertion of new words or expressions in a book or manuscript; especially, the falsification of a text by spurious or unauthorized insertions]. The editio princeps [The first printed edition of a book] was based on D. Jacoby felt a sound text should be based on A and B, and he used the late MSS hardly at all.

Manuscripts - books 1-10.

Those used for Kiessling and Jacoby for book 11:

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

L / Florence, Laurentian / Laurentianus Plut. LXX 5 / 15th

V / Rome, Vatican / Vaticanus 133 (= 'E' above) / 15th

M / Milan, Ambrosian / Ambrosianus A 159 sup. / 15th

C / ??? / Coislinianus 150 (= 'C' above) / 16th

The best of these four MSS is L, which appears to be a faithful copy of a badly damaged original; the scribe usually left gaps of appropriate length where he found the text illegible. Second best is 'V', which only occasionally shows interpolations; but this is the same MS labelled 'E' for the first ten books and treated as a negligible witness for them. Much inferior, however, even to 'V' are M and C, which show many unskilful attempts to correct the text, especially by filling lacunae [gaps], especially in chapters 42 and 48-49.

All these MSS derive from a poor archetype [manuscript] which, in addition to numerous shorter lacunae [gaps], had lost entire leaves at the end of book 11, as well as earlier, and had some of the remainder out of order.

-- Dionysius of Halicarnassus: the Manuscripts of "The Roman Antiquities", by Roger Pearse

The last ten books are fragmentary, based on excerpts from medieval Byzantine history compilations. Book XI is mostly extant at around 50 pages (Aeterna Press, 2015 edition), while the remaining books, have only 12–14 pages per book.

Book X 461–449 BC

The decemvirate continued.

Book XI 449–443 BC

fragments

Book XII 442–396 BC

fragments

Book XIII 394–390 BC

fragments

Book XIV 390 BC

Gauls sack of Rome.

Book XV

First and Second Samnite War.

Book XVI–XVII

Third Samnite War.

Book XIX

The beginnings of conflicts between Rome and the warlord Pyrrhus. The southern Italian city of Tarentum has problems with Rome, who have recently expanded into southern Italy. Tarentum invites Pyrrhus as muscle to protect them.

Book XX

Roman-Pyrrhic war, with Pyrrhus’s second invasion of Italy.

Because his prime objective was to reconcile the Greeks to Roman rule, Dionysius focused on the good qualities of their conquerors, and also argued that -– based on sources ancient in his own time -– the Romans were genuine descendants of the older Greeks.[6][7] According to him, history is philosophy teaching by examples, and this idea he has carried out from the point of view of a Greek rhetorician. But he carefully consulted the best authorities, and his work and that of Livy are the only connected and detailed extant accounts of early Roman history.[8]: 240–241 

Dionysius was also the author of several rhetorical treatises, in which he shows that he had thoroughly studied the best Attic models:

Τέχνη ῥητορική, (Tékhnē rhētorikḗ)
The Art of Rhetoric

which is rather a collection of essays on the theory of rhetoric, incomplete, and certainly not all his work;

Περὶ συνθέσεως ὀνομάτων, (Perì sunthéseōs onomátōn) Latin: De compositione verborum
The Arrangement of Words

treating of the combination of words according to the different styles of oratory;

Περὶ μιμήσεως, (Perì mimḗseōs)
On Imitation

on the best models in the different kinds of literature and the way in which they are to be imitated—a fragmentary work;

Περὶ τῶν Ἀττικῶν ῥητόρων, (Perì tôn Attikôn rhētórōn)
Commentaries on the Attic Orators

which, however, only covers Lysias, Isaeus, Isocrates, and by way of supplement, Dinarchus;

Περὶ λεκτικῆς Δημοσθένους δεινότητος, (Perì lektikês Dēmosthénous deinótētos)
On the Admirable Style of Demosthenes

Περὶ Θουκιδίδου χαρακτῆρος, (Perì Thoukidídou kharaktêros)
On the Character of Thucydides

The last two treatises are supplemented by letters to Gn. Pompeius and Ammaeus (two, one of which is about Thucydides).[4]

Dionysian imitatio

Main article: Dionysian imitatio

Dionysian imitatio is the literary method of imitation as formulated by Dionysius, who conceived it as the rhetorical practice of emulating, adapting, reworking, and enriching a source text by an earlier author.[9][10] It shows marked similarities with Quintilian’s view of imitation, and both may derive from a common source.[11]

Dionysius' concept marked a significant departure from the concept of mimesis formulated by Aristotle in the 4th century BC, which was only concerned with "imitation of nature" and not "imitation of other authors."[9] Latin orators and rhetoricians adopted Dionysius' method of imitatio and discarded Aristotle's mimesis.[9]

History in the Roman Antiquities, and the Foundation Myth

Dionysius carried out extensive research for his Roman history, selecting among authorities, and preserving (for example) details of the Servian Census.[8]: 239 

His first two books present a unified account of the supposed Greek origin for Rome, merging a variety of sources into a firm narrative: his success, however, was at the expense of concealing the primitive Roman actuality (as revealed by archaeology).[8]: 241  Along with Livy,[12] Dionysius is thus one of the primary sources for the accounts of the Roman foundation myth, and that of Romulus and Remus, and was relied on in the later publications of Plutarch, for example. He writes extensively on the myth, sometimes attributing direct quotations to its figures. The myth spans the first 2 volumes of his Roman Antiquities, beginning with Book I chapter 73 and concluding in Book II chapter 56.[citation needed]

Romulus and Remus

Origins and survival in the wild

Dionysius claims that the twins, Romulus and Remus, were born to a vestal [In ancient Rome, the Vestal Virgins or Vestals were priestesses of Vesta, goddess of the hearth. The college of the Vestals was regarded as fundamental to the continuance and security of Rome. These individuals cultivated the sacred fire that was not allowed to go out. Vestals were freed of the usual social obligations to marry and bear children and took a 30-year vow of chastity in order to devote themselves to the study and correct observance of state rituals that were forbidden to the colleges of male priests.] named Ilia Silvia (sometimes called Rea), descended from Aeneas of Troy

In Greco-Roman mythology, Aeneas was a Trojan hero, the son of the Trojan prince Anchises [Anchises was a member of the royal family of Troy in Greek and Roman legend. He was a mortal lover of the goddess Aphrodite.] and the Greek goddess Aphrodite [Aphrodite is an ancient Greek goddess associated with love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion, and procreation. She was syncretized with the Roman goddess Venus. Aphrodite's major symbols include myrtles, roses, doves, sparrows, and swans. The cult of Aphrodite was largely derived from that of the Phoenician goddess Astarte, a cognate of the East Semitic goddess Ishtar, whose cult was based on the Sumerian cult of Inanna.] (equivalent to the Roman Venus). His father was a first cousin of King Priam of Troy (both being grandsons of Ilus, founder of Troy), making Aeneas a second cousin to Priam's children (such as Hector and Paris). He is a character in Greek mythology and is mentioned in Homer's Iliad. Aeneas receives full treatment in Roman mythology, most extensively in Virgil's Aeneid, where he is cast as an ancestor of Romulus and Remus. He became the first true hero of Rome. Snorri Sturluson identifies him with the Norse god Vidarr of the Æsir.[2]

-- Aeneas, by Wikipedia

and the daughter of King Latinus [Latinus was a figure in both Greek and Roman mythology. He is often associated with the heroes of the Trojan War, namely Odysseus and Aeneas.] of the Original Latin tribes, thus linking Rome to Trojans and Latins both. Dionysius lays out the different accounts of her pregnancy and the twins' conception, but declines to choose one over the others.

Citing Fabius [In Roman mythology, Fabius was the son of Hercules and an unnamed mother.], Cincius [Lucius Cincius Alimentus (fl. about 200 BC) was a celebrated Roman annalist, jurist, and provincial official. He is principally remembered as one of the founders of Roman historiography, although his Annals has been lost and is only known from fragments in other works.], Porcius Cato [Marcus Porcius Cato (234–149 BC), also known as Cato the Censor, the Elder and the Wise, was a Roman soldier, senator, and historian known for his conservatism and opposition to Hellenization. He was the first to write history in Latin with his Origines, a now fragmentary work on the history of Rome. His work De agri cultura, a rambling work on agriculture, farming, rituals, and recipes, is the oldest extant prose written in the Latin language.], and Piso [???], Dionysius recounts the most common tale, whereby the twins are to be tossed into the Tiber; are left at the site of the ficus Ruminalis [The Ficus Ruminalis was a wild fig tree that had religious and mythological significance in ancient Rome. It stood near the small cave known as the Lupercal at the foot of the Palatine Hill and was the spot where according to tradition the floating makeshift cradle of Romulus and Remus landed on the banks of the Tiber. There they were nurtured by the she-wolf and discovered by Faustulus.]; and rescued by a she-wolf who nurses them in front of her lair (the Lupercal) before being adopted by Faustulus [In Roman mythology, Faustulus was the shepherd who found the infant Romulus (the future founder of the city of Rome) and his twin brother Remus along the banks of the Tiber River as they were being suckled by the she-wolf, Lupa. According to legend, Faustulus carried the babies back to his sheepfold for his wife Acca Larentia to nurse them. Faustulus and Acca Larentia then raised the boys as their own.].[13] Dionysius relates an alternate, "non-fantastical" version of Romulus and Remus' birth, survival and youth. In this version, Numitor [In Roman mythology, King Numitor of Alba Longa, was the maternal grandfather of Rome's founder and first king, Romulus, and his twin brother Remus. He was the son of Procas, descendant of Aeneas the Trojan, and father of the twins' mother, Rhea Silvia, and Lausus.] managed to switch the twins at birth with two other infants.[14] The twins were delivered by their grandfather to Faustulus to be fostered by him and his wife, Laurentia, a former prostitute. According to Plutarch, lupa (Latin for "wolf") was a common term for members of her profession and this gave rise to the she-wolf legend.

Falling out and Foundation of Rome

The twins receive a proper education in the city of Gabii, before eventually winning control of the area around where Rome would be founded. Dispute over the particular hill upon which Rome should be built, the Palatine Hill or the Aventine Hill for its strategic advantages saw the brothers fall out and Remus killed.

When the time came to actually construct the city of Rome, the two brothers disputed over the particular hill upon which Rome should be built, Romulus favoring the Palatine Hill and Remus favoring what later came to be known as Remoria (possibly the Aventine Hill). Eventually, the two deferred their decision to the gods at the advice of their grandfather. Using the birds as omens, the two brothers decided "he to whom the more favourable birds first appeared should rule the colony and be its leader."[15] Since Remus saw nine vultures first, he claimed that the gods chose him and Romulus claimed that since he saw a greater (the "more favorable") number of vultures, the gods chose him. Unable to reach a conclusion, the two brothers and their followers fought, ultimately resulting in the death of Remus. After his brother's death, a saddened Romulus buried Remus at the site of Remoria, giving the location its namesake.[16]

Before the actual construction of the city began, Romulus made sacrifices and received good omens, and he then ordered the populace to ritually atone for their guilt. The city's fortifications were first and then housing for the populace. He assembled the people and gave them the choice as to what type of government they wanted - monarchy, democracy, or oligarchy - for its constitution.[17] After his address, which extolled bravery in war abroad and moderation at home, and in which Romulus denied any need to remain in power, the people decided to remain a kingdom and asked him to remain its king. Before accepting he looked for a sign of the approval of the gods. He prayed and witnessed an auspicious lightning bolt, after which he declared that no king shall take the throne without receiving approval from the gods.

Institutions

Dionysus then provided a detailed account of the ‘Romulus’ constitution, most probably based on the work of Terentius Varro [???].[18] Romulus supposedly divides Rome into 3 tribes, each with a Tribune in charge. Each tribe was divided into 10 Curia, and each of those into smaller units. He divided the kingdom's land holdings between them, and Dionysus alone among our authorities insists that this was done in equal lots.[19] The Patrician class was separated from the Plebeian class; while each curiae was responsible for providing soldiers in the event of war.


Bernard van Orley, Romulus Gives Laws to the Roman People – WGA16696

A system of patronage (clientela), a senate (attributed by Dionysius to Greek influence) and a personal bodyguard of 300 of the strongest and fittest among the nobles were also established: the latter, the celeres, were so-named either for their quickness, or, according to Valerius Antias, for their commander.[20]

A Separation of power and measures to increase manpower were also instituted, as were Rome's religious customs and practices, and a variety of legal measures praised by Dionysus.

Again, Dionysius thoroughly describes the laws of other nations before contrasting the approach of Romulus and lauding his work. The Roman law governing marriage is, according to his Antiquities, an elegant yet simple improvement over that of other nations, most of which he harshly derides. By declaring that wives would share equally in the possessions and conduct of their husband, Romulus promoted virtue in the former and deterred mistreatment by the latter. Wives could inherit upon their husband's death. A wife's adultery was a serious crime, however, drunkenness could be a mitigating factor in determining the appropriate punishment. Because of Romulus' laws, Dionysius claims that not a single Roman couple divorced over the following five centuries.

Romulus' laws governing parental rights, in particular, those that allow fathers to maintain power over their adult children were also considered an improvement over those of others; while Dionysius further approved of how, under the laws of Romulus, native-born free Romans were limited to two forms of employment: farming and the army. All other occupations were filled by slaves or non-Roman labor.

Romulus used the trappings of his office to encourage compliance with the law. His court was imposing and filled with loyal soldiers and he was always accompanied by the 12 lictors appointed to be his attendants.

The Rape of the Sabine Women and death of Romulus


The Intervention of the Sabine Women, by Jacques-Louis David, 1799

Following his institutional account, Dionysus described the famous abducting of the Sabine women and suggesting thereby that the abduction was a pretext for alliance with the Sabines.[21] Romulus wished to cement relations with neighboring cities through intermarriage, but none of them found the fledgling city of Rome worthy of their daughters. To overcome this, Romulus arranged a festival in honor of Neptune (the Consualia) and invited the surrounding cities to attend. At the end of the festival, Romulus and the young men seized all the virgins at the festival and planned to marry them according to their customs.[22][23] In his narrative, however, the cities of Caecina, Crustumerium, and Antemnae petition for Tatius, king of the Sabines to lead them to war; and it is only after the famous intervention of the Sabine women that the nations agreed to become a single kingdom under the joint rule of Romulus and Tatius, both declared Quirites.[24]

The Rape of the Sabine Women... was an incident in Roman mythology in which the men of Rome committed a mass abduction of young women from the other cities in the region. It has been a frequent subject of painters and sculptors, particularly during the Renaissance and post-Renaissance eras.

The word "rape" (cognate with "rapto" in Portuguese and other Romance languages, meaning "kidnap") is the conventional translation of the Latin word raptio used in the ancient accounts of the incident. Modern scholars tend to interpret the word as "abduction" or "kidnapping" as opposed to a sexual assault....

According to Roman historian Livy, the abduction of Sabine women occurred in the early history of Rome shortly after its founding in the mid-8th century BC and was perpetrated by Romulus and his predominantly male followers; it is said that after the foundation of the city, the population consisted solely of Latins and other Italic people, in particular male bandits. With Rome growing at such a steady rate in comparison to its neighbors, Romulus became concerned with maintaining the city's strength. His main concern was that with few women inhabitants there would be no chance of sustaining the city's population, without which Rome might not last longer than a generation. On the advice of the Senate, the Romans then set out into the surrounding regions in search of wives to establish families with. The Romans negotiated unsuccessfully with all the peoples that they appealed to, including the Sabines, who populated the neighboring areas. The Sabines feared the emergence of a rival society and refused to allow their women to marry the Romans. Consequently, the Romans devised a plan to abduct the Sabine women during the festival of Neptune Equester....At the festival, Romulus gave a signal by "rising and folding his cloak and then throwing it round him again," at which the Romans grabbed the Sabine women and fought off the Sabine men. In total, thirty Sabine women were abducted by the Romans at the festival. All of the women abducted at the festival were said to have been virgins except for one married woman, Hersilia, who became Romulus' wife and would later be the one to intervene and stop the ensuing war between the Romans and the Sabines. The indignant abductees were soon implored by Romulus to accept the Roman men as their new husbands....

The Sabines themselves finally declared war, led into battle by their king, Titus Tatius. Tatius almost succeeded in capturing Rome, thanks to the treason of Tarpeia, daughter of Spurius Tarpeius, Roman governor of the citadel on the Capitoline Hill. She opened the city gates for the Sabines in return for "what they bore on their arms", thinking she would receive their golden bracelets. Instead, the Sabines crushed her to death with their shields, and her body was buried on or thrown from a rock known ever since by her name, the Tarpeian Rock.

The Romans attacked the Sabines who now held the citadel, in what would become known as the Battle of the Lacus Curtius....

At this point in the story, the Sabine women intervened:

[They], from the outrage on whom the war originated, with hair dishevelled and garments rent, the timidity of their sex being overcome by such dreadful scenes, had the courage to throw themselves amid the flying weapons, and making a rush across, to part the incensed armies, and assuage their fury; imploring their fathers on the one side, their husbands on the other, "that as fathers-in-law and sons-in-law they would not contaminate each other with impious blood, nor stain their offspring with parricide, the one their grandchildren, the other their children. If you are dissatisfied with the affinity between you, if with our marriages, turn your resentment against us; we are the cause of war, we of wounds and of bloodshed to our husbands and parents. It were better that we perish than live widowed or fatherless without one or other of you."

The battle came to an end, and the Sabines agreed to unite in one nation with the Romans. Titus Tatius jointly ruled with Romulus until Tatius's death five years later.

The new Sabine residents of Rome settled on the Capitoline Hill, which they had captured in the battle.

-- The Rape of the Sabine Women, by Wikipedia

After the death of Tatius, however, Romulus became more dictatorial, until he met his end, either through actions divine or earthly. One tale tells of a "darkness" that took Romulus from his war camp to his father in heaven.[25] Another source claims that Romulus was killed by his Roman countrymen after releasing hostages, showing favoritism, and excessive cruelty in his punishments.[25]

Editions

• Collected Works edited by Friedrich Sylburg (1536–1596) (parallel Greek and Latin) (Frankfurt 1586) (available at Google Books)
• Complete edition by Johann Jakob Reiske (1774–1777)[26]
• Archaeologia by A. Kiessling (1860-1870) (vol. 1, vol. 2, vol. 3, vol. 4) and V. Prou (1886) and C. Jacoby (1885–1925) (vol. 1, vol. 2, vol. 3, vol. 4, supplementum) [26]
• Opuscula by Hermann Usener and Ludwig Radermacher (1899-1929)[26] in the Teubner series (vol. 1 contains Commentaries on the Attic Orators, Letter to Ammaeus, On the Admirable Style of Demosthenes, On the Character of Thucydides, Letter to Ammaeus about Thucydides, vol. 2 contains The Arrangement of Words, On Imitation, Letter to Gn. Pompeius, The Art of Rhetoric, Fragments)
• Roman Antiquities by V. Fromentin and J. H. Sautel (1998–), and Opuscula rhetorica by Aujac (1978–), in the Collection Budé
• English translation by Edward Spelman (1758) (available at Google Books)
• Trans. Earnest Cary, Harvard University Press, Loeb Classical Library:
o Roman Antiquities, I, 1937.
o Roman Antiquities, II, 1939.
o Roman Antiquities, III, 1940.
o Roman Antiquities, IV, 1943.
o Roman Antiquities, V, 1945.
o Roman Antiquities, VI, 1947.
o Roman Antiquities, VII, 1950.
• Trans. Stephen Usher, Critical Essays, I, Harvard University Press, 1974, ISBN 978-0-674-99512-3
• Trans. Stephen Usher, Critical Essays, II, Harvard University Press, 1985, ISBN 978-0-674-99513-0

See also

• Diodorus Siculus

References

1. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book I, Chapter 6
2. Hidber, T. (31 Oct 2013). Wilson, N. (ed.). Encyclopedia of Ancient Greece. Routledge. p. 229. ISBN 978-1136787997. Retrieved 2015-09-07.
3. Sandys, J.E. (1894). A Dictionary of Classical Antiquities. London, GB. p. 190.
4. One or more of the preceding sentences incorporates text from a publication now in the public domain: Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). "Dionysius Halicarnassensis". Encyclopædia Britannica. Vol. 8 (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press. pp. 285–286.
5. Schmitz, Leonhard (1867). "Dionysius, Aelius". In Smith, William (ed.). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology. Vol. 1. Boston. p. 1037.
6. The Roman Antiquities of Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Loeb Classical Library. Vol. I. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago. March 29, 2018 [1937] – via Penelope, U. Chicago.
7. Gabba, E. (1991). Dionysius and the History of Archaic Rome. Berkeley, CA.
8. Usher, S. (1969). The Historians of Greece and Rome. London, GB. pp. 239–241.
9. Ruthven (1979) pp. 103–104
10. Jansen (2008)
11. S F Bonner, The Literary Treatises of Dionysius of Halicarnassus (2013) p. 39
12. J Burrow, A History of Histories (Penguin 2009) p. 101 and 116
13. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book I, Chapter 79
14. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book I, Chapter 84
15. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book I, Chapter 85
16. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book I, Chapter 87
17. T P Wiseman, Remembering the Roman Republic (2011) p. xviii-ix
18. T P Wiseman, Remembering the Roman Republic (2011) p. xviii
19. T P Wiseman, Remembering the Roman Republic (2011) p. xviii
20. T P Wiseman, Remembering the Roman Republic (2011) p. ii
21. R Hexter ed., Innovations of Antiquity (2013) p. 164
22. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book II, Chapter 12
23. G Miles, Livy (2018) p. 197
24. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book II, Chapter 46
25. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Roman Antiquities Book II, Chapter 56
26. Chisholm 1911.

Further reading

• Bonner, S. F. 1939. The literary treatises of Dionysius of Halicarnassus: A study in the development of critical method. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Press.
• Damon, C. 1991. Aesthetic response and technical analysis in the rhetorical writings of Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Museum Helveticum 48: 33–58.
• Dionysius of Halicarnassus. 1975. On Thucydides. Translated, with commentary, by W. Kendrick Pritchett. Berkeley and London: Univ. of California Press.
• Gabba, Emilio. 1991. Dionysius and the history of archaic Rome. Berkeley: Univ. of California Press.
• Gallia, Andrew B. 2007. Reassessing the 'Cumaean Chronicle': Greek chronology and Roman history in Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Journal of Roman Studies 97: 50–67.
• Jonge, Casper Constantijn de. 2008. Between Grammar and Rhetoric: Dionysius of Halicarnassus On Language, Linguistics and Literature. Leiden: Brill.
• Jonge, Casper C. de, and Richard L. Hunter (ed.). 2018. Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Augustan Rome. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
• Sacks, Kenneth. 1986. Rhetoric and speeches in Hellenistic historiography. Athenaeum 74: 383–95.
• Usher, S. 1974–1985. Dionysius of Halicarnassus: The critical essays. 2 vols. Cambridge, MA, and London: Harvard Univ. Press.
• Wiater, N. 2011. The ideology of classicism: Language, history and identity in Dionysius of Halicarnassus. Berlin and New York: De Gruyter.
• Wooten, C. W. 1994. The Peripatetic tradition in the literary essays of Dionysius of Halicarnassus. In: Peripatetic rhetoric after Aristotle. Edited by W. W. Fortenbaugh and D. C. Mirhady, 121–30. Rutgers University Studies in Classical Humanities 6. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction.

External links

Wikisource has original works by or about:
Dionysius of Halicarnassus
Library resources about
Dionysius of Halicarnassus
________________________________________
• Online books
• Resources in your library
• Resources in other libraries

By Dionysius of Halicarnassus
• Online books
• Resources in your library
• Resources in other libraries

• English translation of the Antiquities (at LacusCurtius)
• 1586 Edition with the original Greek from the Internet Archive
• Greek text and French translation

****************************

Dionysius of Halicarnassus: the Manuscripts of "The Roman Antiquities"
by Roger Pearse
tertullian.org
June 14, 2002 Updated with book 11-20 details, 29th June 2002.

This work was written in 20 books, of which books 1-10 are preserved, with the greater part of book 11, and fragments of the remainder amounting altogether to about 1 book in size. Most of the fragments come from the great collection of historical extracts made at the direction of the emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the tenth century. Photius (cod. 83) refers to it, and also (cod. 84) to a summary of it in 5 books; Stephanus of Byzantium cites numerous Italian place-names from it, the last book named being book 19. The author was born between 69-53BC and died probably sometime after 7BC. The preface gives the date of publication as 7 BC (consulate of Nero and Piso), and he tells us in ch. 7 he spent 22 years researching and writing his work. The work treats in Greek of the History of Rome from earliest times down to the start of the First Punic War, the point at which the history of Polybius begins. The author also wrote other, shorter works, the scripta rhetorica of which only fragments remain.

Manuscripts - books 1-10.

These were used by Jacoby for books 1-10:

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date-Century

A / ??? / Chisanus 58 / 10th century

B / Rome, Vatican / Urbinas 105 / 10th-11th century

C / ??? / Coislinianus 150 (also contains book 11 - see below) / 16th

D / Paris, BNF / Regius Parisinus 1654 & 1655 / 16th

E / Rome, Vatican / Vaticanus 133 (also contains book 11 = 'V' below) / 15th

F / Rome, Vatican / Urbinas 106 (contains books 1-5 only) / 15th

A and B are the best MSS - the others are all late and some, particularly C and D, contain numerous interpolations [the insertion of new words or expressions in a book or manuscript; especially, the falsification of a text by spurious or unauthorized insertions]. The editio princeps [The first printed edition of a book] was based on D. Jacoby felt a sound text should be based on A and B, and he used the late MSS hardly at all.

Manuscripts - books 1-10.

Those used for Kiessling and Jacoby for book 11:

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

L / Florence, Laurentian / Laurentianus Plut. LXX 5 / 15th

V / Rome, Vatican / Vaticanus 133 (= 'E' above) / 15th

M / Milan, Ambrosian / Ambrosianus A 159 sup. / 15th

C / ??? / Coislinianus 150 (= 'C' above) / 16th

The best of these four MSS is L, which appears to be a faithful copy of a badly damaged original; the scribe usually left gaps of appropriate length where he found the text illegible. Second best is 'V', which only occasionally shows interpolations; but this is the same MS labelled 'E' for the first ten books and treated as a negligible witness for them. Much inferior, however, even to 'V' are M and C, which show many unskilful attempts to correct the text, especially by filling lacunae [gaps], especially in chapters 42 and 48-49.

All these MSS derive from a poor archetype [manuscript] which, in addition to numerous shorter lacunae [gaps], had lost entire leaves at the end of book 11, as well as earlier, and had some of the remainder out of order.

Manuscripts - fragments from books 12-20

About half of these come from the collection made by order of the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the 10th century from then extant classical and later historians. The excerpts were classified under various heads, and a few of these sections have been preserved, some in only a single MS. These are the sections:

'Ursinus': De legationibus. There are several MSS. First published by Fulvio Orsini in 1582; critical edition by C. de Boor, Berlin 1903. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

E / Madrid, Escurial / Scorialenses R III 14, and R III 21 / ???

V / Rome, Vatican / Vaticanus Graecus 1418 / ???

R / Paris, BNF / Parisinus Graecus 2463 / ???

B / Brussels Bruxellensis 11301-16 / ???

M / ??? / Monacensis 267 / ???

P / Rome / Palatinus Vaticanus Graecus 113 / ???

'Vales': De virtutibus et vitiis. Preserved in the Codex Peirescianus (now Turonensis 980). Published by Valesius, 1634; critical edition by A.G. Roos, Berlin 1910. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

P / ??? / Peirescianus (now Turonensis 980) / ???

'Esc': De insidiis. Preserved in a single MS in the Escurial. Edited by Feder, 1848 and 1849, and by C. Müller in his Frag. Hist. Graec., vol. ii, 1848. critical edition by C. de Boor, Berlin 1903. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

S / ??? / Scorialensis W I 11 / ???

'Ath': A few chapters from book 20, contained in an early MS found on Mt. Athos but now in Paris. Edited by C. Müller at the end of vol 2 of his Josephus in 1847 and later by C. Wescher in his Poliorcétique des Grecs, Paris 1868. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

A / ??? / Athos MS, now in Paris / ???

'Ambr': A collection of miscellaneous excerpts, in chronological order, in a 15th century Milan MS; also in a second MS which is a copy of it. The collection was carelessly edited by Cardinal Angelo Mai in 1816. MSS:-

Siglum / Location / Shelfmark & Notes / Date - Century

Q / Milan, Ambrosian Library / Ambrosianus Q 13 sup. / 15th

A / Milan, Ambrosian Library / Ambrosianus A 80 sup. (Copy of Q) / ???

The order and location of the fragments can usually be determined, since Stephanus of Byzantium gives the books in which he found various people and places mentioned. However his references in books 17 and 18 are confused, so these are more uncertain.

Editions with new MS witnesses

The editio princeps of the Greek text was Robert Estienne (Stephanus), Paris, 1546. This contained books 1-11, and was based on D. Sylburg's edition of 1586 (Frankfurt) was books 1-11 plus the excerpta de Legationibus, with a revised version of Gelenius' Latin translation and notes. Sylburg made use of two MSS, a 'Romanus' (which has not been identified) and Venetus 272. John Hudson, Oxford 1704 had books 1-11, excerpta de Legationibus, and excerpta de Virtutibus et Vitiis. He was the first to use the Urbinas, which he called Vaticanus, but only in his notes.

Cardinal Angelo Mai published at Milan in 1816 some fragments from an epitome contained in a Milan MS, Cod. Ambrosianus Q 13 sup., and its copy, Cod. Ambrosianus A 80 sup. These are now included as the excerpta Ambrosiana among the fragments of books 12-20.

Translations with MS value

The first translation was into Latin of books 1-11 by Lapus (or Lappus) Biragus, Treviso 1480, three-quarters of a century before the first edition of the Greek text. It has great interest, since it was based on two MSS which cannot now be identified with any extant, supplied to the translator by Pope Paul II. Ritschl argued that one of these must have belonged to the better class of MSS, now known through A and B, as the translation contains most of the additions to the text of the editio princeps that are found in one or both of the older MSS. (Opuscula i, pp.489, 493). In addition he avoids most of B's errors, and includes down to III, 24 a good number of readings that appear in no other MS. Some of the interpolations in C and D are included, but he avoids most of C's interpolations. In a few cases he supplies words missing from both B and C, so his good MS must have been better than any now extant MS at these points. Since he refers to the confused order of the text at the end of book 11, his older MS cannot have been B; and the interpolated one can hardly have been C, if C is correctly assigned to the 16th century.

Gelenius did a fresh translation in 1549 of books 1-10; for 11 he merely reprinted Lapus's translation.

The only English translation before the Loeb was Edward Spelman, published London 1758 with notes and a dissertation. It is a good version of Hudson's text, and covers books 1-11, and served as the basis for the Loeb version.

Bibliography

Earnest CARY, The Roman antiquities of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Loeb edition in 7 vols. Harvard University Press (1937). Vol 1 has details of the MSS of books 1-X; Vol 7 (1950) about the MSS for book 11 and fragments of 12-20.

Carl JACOBY, Leipzig (Tuebner), 1885-1905, index 1925. (Details from the Loeb).

***************************

Biblioteca Ambrosiana
by Wikipedia
Accessed: 10/25/22


Entrance to the Ambrosian Library
Established: 1609
Location: Piazza Pio XI 2, 20123, Milan, Italy
Coordinates 45.4631°N 9.1854°ECoordinates: 45.4631°N 9.1854°E
Director: Alberto Rocca
Website: http://www.ambrosiana.it

The Biblioteca Ambrosiana is a historic library in Milan, Italy, also housing the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, the Ambrosian art gallery. Named after Ambrose, the patron saint of Milan, it was founded in 1609 by Cardinal Federico Borromeo, whose agents scoured Western Europe and even Greece and Syria for books and manuscripts. Some major acquisitions of complete libraries were the manuscripts of the Benedictine monastery of Bobbio (1606)

Bobbio Abbey (Italian: Abbazia di San Colombano) is a monastery founded by Irish Saint Columbanus in 614, around which later grew up the town of Bobbio, in the province of Piacenza, Emilia-Romagna, Italy. It is dedicated to Saint Columbanus. It was famous as a centre of resistance to Arianism and as one of the greatest libraries in the Middle Ages. The abbey was dissolved under the French administration in 1803, although many of the buildings remain in other uses.

-- Bobbio Abbey, by Wikipedia

and the library of the Paduan Vincenzo Pinelli, whose more than 800 manuscripts filled 70 cases when they were sent to Milan and included the famous Iliad, the Ilias Picta.

Gian Vincenzo Pinelli (1535 – 31 August 1601) was an Italian humanist, born in Naples and known as a savant and a mentor of Galileo. His literary correspondence put him at the center of a European network of virtuosi. He was also a noted botanist, bibliophile and collector of scientific instruments....

His enormous library was probably the greatest in 16th-century Italy, consisting of around 8,500 printed works at the moment of his death, plus hundreds of manuscripts. When he died, in 1601, Nicolas Fabri de Peiresc was in his house and spent some of the following months studying his library and taking notes from its catalogues. Pinelli's secretary, Paolo Gualdo, wrote and published (1607) a biography of Pinelli which is also the portrait of the perfect scholar and book-collector.

His collection of manuscripts, when it was purchased from his estate in 1608 for the Biblioteca Ambrosiana, filled 70 cases. Pinelli stood out among the early bibliophile collectors who established scientific bases for the methodically assembled private library, aided by the comparatively new figure—in the European world— of the bookseller.

His love of books and manuscripts, and his interest in optics, labored under a disability: a childhood mishap had destroyed the vision of one eye, forcing him to protect his weak vision with green-tinted lenses. Cautious and withdrawn by nature, detesting travel whether by road or canal boat, wracked by the gallstones that eventually killed him, he found solace in the library he amassed over a period of fifty years (Nuovo 2003).

Leonardo's treatise on painting, Trattato della Pittura, was transcribed in the Codex Pinellianus ca. 1585, perhaps expressly for Pinelli who made annotations in it. Pinelli's codex was the source for the Barberini codex from which it was eventually printed, ostensibly edited by Raphael du Fresne, in 1651. Pinelli's interest in the new science of optics was formative for Galileo Galilei, for whom Pinelli opened his library in the 1590s, where Galileo read the unpublished manuscripts, consisting of lecture notes and drafts of essays on optics, of Ettore Ausonio, a Venetian mathematician and physician, and of Giuseppe Moleto, professor of mathematics at Padua (Dupre).

Beside his Greek and Latin libraries of manuscripts his collection included the original Arabic manuscript from which was translated and printed the Descrizione dell'Africa of Leo Africanus.

-- Gian Vincenzo Pinellim by Wikipedia

History


[Leonardo da Vinci Crossbow sketch, Codex Atlanticus

During Cardinal Borromeo's sojourns in Rome, 1585–95 and 1597–1601, he envisioned developing this library in Milan as one open to scholars and that would serve as a bulwark of Catholic scholarship in the service of the Counter-Reformation against the treatises issuing from Protestant presses. To house the cardinal's 15,000 manuscripts and twice that many printed books, construction began in 1603 under designs and direction of Lelio Buzzi and Francesco Maria Richini. When its first reading room, the Sala Fredericiana, opened to the public on 8 December 1609 it was one of the earliest public libraries. One innovation was that its books were housed in cases ranged along the walls, rather than chained to reading tables, the latter a medieval practice seen still today in the Laurentian Library of Florence. A printing press was attached to the library, and a school for instruction in the classical languages.

Constant acquisitions, soon augmented by bequests, required enlargement of the space. Borromeo intended an academy (which opened in 1625) and a collection of pictures, for which a new building was initiated in 1611–18 to house the Cardinal's paintings and drawings, the nucleus of the Pinacoteca.

Cardinal Borromeo gave his collection of paintings and drawings to the library, too. Shortly after the cardinal's death, his library acquired twelve manuscripts of Leonardo da Vinci, including the Codex Atlanticus. The library now contains some 12,000 drawings by European artists, from the 14th through the 19th centuries, which have come from the collections of a wide range of patrons and artists, academicians, collectors, art dealers, and architects. Prized manuscripts, including the Leonardo codices, were requisitioned by the French during the Napoleonic occupation, and only partly returned after 1815.


Portrait of a Musician by Leonardo da Vinci

On 15 October 1816 the Romantic poet Lord Byron visited the library. He was delighted by the letters between Lucrezia Borgia and Pietro Bembo ("The prettiest love letters in the world"[1][2]) and claimed to have managed to steal a lock of her hair ("the prettiest and fairest imaginable."[2]) held on display.[3][4][5]

The novelist Mary Shelley visited the library on 14 September 1840 but was disappointed by the tight security occasioned by the recent attempted theft of "some of the relics of Petrarch" housed there.[6]

Among the 30,000 manuscripts, which range from Greek and Latin to Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic,[7] Ethiopian, Turkish and Persian, is the Muratorian fragment, of ca 170 A.D., the earliest example of a Biblical canon and an original copy of De divina proportione by Luca Pacioli. Among Christian and Islamic Arabic manuscripts are treatises on medicine, a unique 11th-century diwan of poets, and the oldest copy of the Kitab Sibawahaihi.

When looking at the secrets held within Vatican City, perhaps the most logical place to start is the Vatican Secret Archives. The name itself is evocative of mystery, and many theories have naturally arisen about what might be held among the 53 miles of shelves and 12 centuries' worth of documents only available to a select few....

[T]he Archives are not fully public: they're only open to scholars who have passed a rigorous vetting process, and journalists were not allowed to see the contents of the Archives until 2010.

-- Dark Secrets of the Vatican Revealed, by Benito Cereno, July 6, 2022

The library has a college of Doctors, similar to the scriptors of the Vatican Library. Among prominent figures have been Giuseppe Ripamonti, Ludovico Antonio Muratori, Giuseppe Antonio Sassi, Cardinal Angelo Mai and, at the beginning of the 20th century, Antonio Maria Ceriani, Achille Ratti (on 8 November 1888,[8][9] the future Pope Pius XI, and Giovanni Mercati. Ratti wrote a new edition of the Acta Ecclesiae Mediolanensis ("Acts of the Church of Milan"), Latin work firstly published by the cardinal Federico Borromeo in 1582.[9][8]

The building was damaged in World War II, with the loss of the archives of opera libretti of La Scala, but was restored in 1952 and underwent major restorations in 1990–97. The stained glass windows were made by the painter Carlo Bazzi and were partly saved from the Second World War.

Artwork at the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana includes Leonardo da Vinci's "Portrait of a Musician", Caravaggio's "Basket of Fruit", Bramantino's Adoration of the Christ Child and Raphael's cartoon of "The School of Athens".

Some manuscripts

• Uncial 0135 — fragments of the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke
• Codex Ambrosianus 435, Ambrosianus 837 — treatise On the Soul of Aristotle
• Minuscule manuscripts of New Testament: 343, 344, 345, 346, 347, 348, 349, 350, 351, 352, 353, 614, 615
• Lectionaries ℓ 102, ℓ 103, ℓ 104, ℓ 105, ℓ 106, ℓ 284, ℓ 285, ℓ 286, ℓ 287, ℓ 288, ℓ 289, ℓ 290.
• Codices Ambrosiani, containing the Gothic language

References

1. Ian Thompson, review, The Spectator, 25 June 2005, of Viragos on the march by Gaia Servadio. I. B. Tauris, ISBN 1-85043-421-2.
2. Pietro Bembo: A Renaissance Courtier Who Had His Cake and Ate It Too, Ed Quattrocchi, Caxtonian: Journal of the Caxton Club of Chicago, Volume XIII, Nº. 10, October 2005.
3. The Byron Chronology: 1816–1819 – Separation and Exile on the Continent.
4. Byron by John Nichol.
5. Letter to Augusta Leigh, Milan, 15 October 1816. Lord Byron's Letters and Journals, Chapter 5: Separation and Exile Archived 9 May 2008 at the Wayback Machine.
6. Shelley, Mary (1996). Travel Writing. London: Pickering. p. 132. ISBN 1-85196-084-8.
7. Oscar Löfgren and Renato Traini, Catalogue of the Arabic Manuscripts in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana, vol. I (1975), ii (1981) onwards.
8. don Vincenzo Maraschi (Ambrosiane Doctor) (1938). Le Particolarità Del Rito Ambrosiano (in Italian). Milan. p. 1, 7, 174. Retrieved 10 April 2022., with imprimatur of Milan Curia (in person of friar Castiglioni) on 9 August 1938, and of cardinal Schuster
9. Carlo Marcora (1996). Achille Ratti and the Biblioteca Ambrosiana. persee.fr (in Italian and French). p. 56. Archived from the original on 12 December 2018. Retrieved 27 December 2018.

Further reading

• Catalogus codicum graecorum Bibliothecae Ambrosianae (Mediolani 1906) Tomus I
• Catalogus codicum graecorum Bibliothecae Ambrosianae (Mediolani 1906) Tomus II
• Herbermann, Charles, ed. (1913). "The Ambrosian Library" . Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company.
• Biblioteca Ambrosiana website, select English
• Ambrosiana Foundation, U.S. support organization
• Inventory Catalog of Drawings at the Biblioteca Ambrosiana
• http://www.1st-art-gallery.com/Edward-C ... tings.html
• "Ambrosian Library" . New International Encyclopedia. 1905.

External links

• Virtual tour of the Biblioteca Ambrosiana provided by Google Arts & Culture
• Media related to Biblioteca Ambrosiana at Wikimedia Commons

[admin]

Seeing the Invisible — Multispectral Imaging of Ancient and Medieval Manuscripts
by Dr. Melissa Moreton
Assistant Director for Strategic Initiatives at HMML [2018 to 2020]
July 1, 2019

This year marks twenty years since the first significant efforts were made to use multispectral imaging (MSI) to reveal hidden writing within a parchment manuscript (the book in question contained the lost works of ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes). This noninvasive technology is especially suited for work with parchment, a unique sheet material made from animal skin whose surface can be written upon and then miraculously ‘erased’ by scraping for reuse by a later scribe. In the ancient and medieval Mediterranean world this recycling was common. Texts came and went, but parchment was expensive and always valuable to scribes. Books no longer deemed necessary or desirable were sometimes unbound, and the parchment scraped down and reused to create what is called a palimpsest. Even when the earlier writing was not visible to the naked eye, traces of the ink remained embedded in the parchment sheet, bonded to the collagen and proteins in the skin. Multispectral imaging can reveal traces of this hidden writing.


HMML Palimpsest

The MSI process involves photographing the palimpsested manuscript folios with a variety of wavelengths of light ranging from ultraviolet to infrared. Each wavelength interacts differently with the manuscript surface, revealing details that can enhance the visibility of parchment, inks, pigments, surface treatments, or stains. Once the images are captured, they are digitally processed, selected, and united to form a single image that reveals details not visible to the naked eye. This technology has been developed over the last two decades by Mike Toth, in partnership with scientists and camera manufacturers. Toth was a member of the team that imaged the manuscript with the lost works of Archimedes in 1999 for the Archimedes Palimpsest Project at the Walters Art Gallery.

Since then, Toth has been using MSI to image manuscripts, maps, paintings, pottery, and even mummy masks made of recycled papyri containing ancient texts. The technology was devised for medical use, and then adapted to the imaging of manuscripts. Toth describes the work as highly collaborative, involving photographers, manuscript scholars, conservators, data specialists, computer engineers, and scientists.

Toth recently imaged a manuscript fragment from HMML’s collections (SJU Ms Frag 32), working with imaging scientist Bill Christens-Barry and R.B. Toth Associates-sponsored PhD student Cery Jones. The parchment bifolium (folded sheet) had been in HMML’s rare book vault for several decades, but was not brought to light until preparation for an exhibit on manuscript fragments was underway in 2016-17. It comes from a Georgian liturgical manuscript and has a faint trace of older underwriting visible to the naked eye. HMML’s Curator of Western Collections, Matthew Heintzelman, noticed the underwriting and brought it to the attention of Executive Director, Father Columba Stewart, who identified it as early Syriac and sent the fragment off to Toth and team for imaging. The resulting images revealed that Syriac text (seen here in two and a half red columns of writing) underneath the Georgian writing (wider columns in blue). As is common with palimpsested parchments, the original Syriac manuscript was larger than the later Georgian manuscript, and was scraped, cut down and reused (the center fold of the original Syriac manuscript is visible down the middle of the wide column of Georgian text on the left).

According to HMML’s Curator of Eastern Christian and Islamic Manuscripts, David Calabro, based on the peculiarities of the Syriac Estrangela script, the Syriac underwriting dates from the sixth to the eighth century. By any standard this makes it an early and rare fragment. Calabro’s preliminary work on the text with Adrian Pirtea, a HMML Swenson Family Fellow in Eastern Christian Manuscript Studies, revealed several words and strings of words in Syriac (such as ṭúbānā / “the blessed one”), which may place the book in the genre of hagiographical writing on the lives of saints. More will be revealed as Toth and Calabro collaborate to post-process different parts of the sheet to enhance visualization of particular areas of the Syriac text. Equally remarkable is the 1,000-year-old Georgian overwriting, from a 10th-century collection of chants including texts from the Prophets Habakkuk, Isaiah and Amos. This dating makes the Georgian text early as well. It is clear that this manuscript had a complicated life, likely produced in Mesopotamia (an area that today includes parts of Syria, Iraq, and southeastern Turkey) before being scraped down and reused by a Georgian scribe. This may have been done in northern Syria, where there were Georgian monastic communities in the medieval period such as at the Black Mountain near Antioch, or possibly at Saint Catherine’s Monastery, Sinai, Egypt. This fragment demonstrates how palimpsest witnesses both preserve valuable early texts and attest to the wide dissemination of Syriac literature throughout the eastern Mediterranean, offering a rich comparative perspective on the contacts between Syriac and other eastern Christian traditions.

Each imaging project presents its own set of challenges, but solving those data and processing hurdles adds knowledge useful for the future study of similar texts. For example, twenty years ago Toth and his collaborators knew little about the material characteristics of parchment and its fluorescence—its ability to absorb short wavelength and reflect long wavelength light. The understanding of parchment as a material has allowed Toth and researchers to refine the imaging process to enhance the visualization of embedded texts. Also, every project adds to the knowledge base and understanding of particular manuscript traditions, whether they are Syriac, Latin, Arabic, or Ethiopian. For example, parchment in Syriac manuscripts (such as SJU Ms Frag 32) is often high in calcium, which can interfere with a clear imaging of the underwriting (this may be due to the chalk required to degrease certain types of parchment skins for writing). Toth and his team now account for this codicological feature when imaging Syriac fragments such as HMML’s fragment or the famed Syriac Galen Palimpsest, a ninth-century Graeco-Syriac manuscript containing part of a pharmacological treatise by that ancient Greek physician. As the technology and knowledge base evolve, the growing data library of palimpsests from different traditions will allow technicians and researchers to get even more out of these texts. It will also lead to advancements in artificial intelligence and, in particular, machine learning, that will allow computers to teach themselves how to recognize and correct for differences in parchment, inks, and surface preparations from a variety of traditions.

The basic principles of MSI technology have stayed the same over the last two decades, and processing images has remained the terrain of a few technicians with the software and skills to create readable images from raw data. The next level of functionality for MSI will involve creating a suite of computer analysis tools that would allow anyone to enhance, refine, and interpret hidden texts more effectively on their own (women have the advantage, Toth says, as one in ten men is color blind). Toth and business partner, Bill Christens-Barry of Equipoise Imaging, are developing a “Paleo Toolbox” that will do just that. This would allow multispectral imaging technology to reach wider audiences who could analyze a larger number of palimpsest texts, some of which may have been hidden in plain sight for decades. Work with these palimpsests is certain to include the discovery of important lost works and the reinterpretation of little known texts that will reshape scholarship in many fields.

[admin]

How Art Forgery Actually Works
How Crime Works
Insider News
by Max Brandrett
Producer: Nazar Risafi
Oct 23, 2021



Former art forger Max Brandrett speaks to Insider about his experience and how art forgery works.

Max began his journey as a child in a poor Brighton neighborhood and eventually ran away to end up homeless in London. Max says that after he failed to find work, he decided to forge paintings and sell them with the help of an older accomplice he met in Portobello Road. Max tells us he forged over 500 paintings of artists such as Samuel Palmer and Louis Wain which sold in bespoke auctions and galleries making him over $600,000. After being arrested and jailed a few times Max decided to become a Copy Artist rather than a Forger. He has now made a legitimate business out of copying paintings.

Transcript

I am Max Brandrett, master forger, and I made over 500,000 pounds forging art. This is how crime works.

In those days, you didn't have the technology to send them up to the lab to be tested. Today, you would never get away with it. They can tell you the day you painted it; the color; how old it is; he canvas has got to be right -- you know, you can't forge.

In my day, you didn't have all this technology. From '60s, '68 to the '70s is when you could still hit it. But not today. No way.

Chapter 1: Making a Forged Painting

We used to buy what we called potboilers. Potboilers are old rubbish pictures that were painted by somebody who'd be an amateur -- but as long as the canvas at the back was right. You couldn't do an old picture from the 1700 or 1800s on a canvas that's mitered. You had to do it sort of when it's looking the part. If you did it on a mitered canvas, the auctioneer would suss it out.

If they've got a bowl of flowers on it, or a landscape, you rub it down -- you sand it down to a flat level -- prime it, gesso -- gesso primer -- undercoat on top of that -- white undercoat -- do the sides, and then do your painting.

As for starting, do the sky. Get the drawing system done, with your Brolac undercoat. Hair-dryer. Then you'd just sketch it out.

So that was the preparation. I think that's where the experts couldn't work out, "Hey, well, if this is a fake, he's got" -- I can match the color. It's just there. It's just, I see it. And I think I would know the color straightaway, what to use, you know?

If you use oil paints, normally with oil paints, it takes probably about three months to dry, right? But my little way of doing it was I found a quick drying process. Brolac, or any house undercoat, you know, white undercoat, and then you put that with your paint, you put your hair-dryer over it, and it'll dry probably in about two hours. That's why we could do so many. And that was it.

So the aging is a whole new world. What do you think happens when you've got a picture in a frame for years and years and years? So, when it's inside the slip frame, it will be clean, won't it? And all the dirt will show. So we used to age it, fake it up with a walnut scramble, like dirty sort of tea stain color, and then get your turps and run your finger down with a cloth all the way around, so you've got a neat line. So then they said, "Oh, it's been in the frame for years and years."

Put it back in the frame. That was it.

I wanted to crack the pictures; hence, a very magic thing which somebody showed me years ago from an old guy that used to restore. He said, "Bee glue is perfect." Bee glue is a Scotch glue, it's called. It's used for woodwork. Well, you're too young to remember. But it was always a smelly sort of gooey look. So I bought 2 pounds of this. I put it in a sauce bin, he told me, overnight. Next morning it's a jelly. Then you think, right, put it on the stove, bring it up to a varnish. If you overdo it, it goes too thick, so you just got to get it right. Get your picture, right. You get your picture. You give it a coat of this varnish -- this bee glue varnish -- you take it to a heater. It has to be an electric heater. It can't be dry heat. And you circulate the painting, like that. And you think, "God, it's cracking. It's working." And you do a bit on the top of the sky, and you look at it. You can actually hear it cracking. Wash off the bee glue with warm water on your tap, and then, all right, you've got water cracks.

Empty a Hoover on it. Rub all the Hoover in. All the dirt, all the cracks fill with dirt.

And then after that, all the nails that you've had in the garden for six months in a tin, because you put water in there and they rusted, make sure that the nails go back in the place where it was, 'cause they'll suss you out. Tap it all back, under glass, white polish, back in the frame, talcum powder -- because it smells after a while. It takes off the bee glue stink, and it rots, to be honest. And then hence, you've got it.

So, there again. On there, looking good. Auction room, Saturday, three or four of those, boom.

In the next chapters Max refers to an accomplice who assisted in selling fake paintings. The person's name is censored as Insider could not verify their involvement in the crimes.

Chapter 2: Becoming a Forger

[Censored] had the finance in the beginning. He would buy the canvases. He would buy the frames. He gave me light money in the beginning till we got started. I was in Portobello Road. [Censored] would come along, and he said, "I'll have your paintings, sir." He said, "I'll give you 200 quid for the lot. Come to have a drink with me afterwards." So we went to the pub -- just on Portobello Road -- and he started talking about, "We want to do this big time."

Yeah -- I could have done it on my own, but not as well.

Chapter 3: Selling a Fake

We would go in as father and son. Like, you know, he was 45, and I was 19 years old. So the first auction we hit was Lots Road. We got into the auction room, and, you know, you sort of make them look like they're very important. We would say, "Morning, governor." They'd go, "Yeah. Morning." "So, got some smudges in the car. So would you have a look for me?" And he goes, "Yeah, bring them in." He said, "Just there, fine." Said, "Dad, bring them in, will you?" So we bring them in a bloody bin liner. And he goes, "What's that down there? That looks interesting."

This is the very posh guy in the desk. This is how silly it was. The auctioneer would go, "Hm, Albert Darby." But what he didn't know was that Albert Darby used to sweep floors in Brighton in a pub. And I thought, when I was painting these fakes, [censored] said, "Nice, what are we going to do?" I said, "I know. A friend, a old fellow I met was in his '80s, called Albert Darby." He went, "Yeah. Do that." So I put "Albert Darby" on this fake picture, went into the auction, and he told me he's a listed painter. I went, "Yeah, right. That's how much they know." I thought that was it.

And then he said to me, "What's the other thing there?" "Oh, it's some cat picture, sir." Said, "Did you not know what this was? It's a Louis Wain." "Who's Louis Wain, sir? I thought it was Batman." Sorry, sorry. And my, [censored] would go, "You see, son? This guy knows all about it. When you've got respect like that, and the knowledge he has is incredible. So you look and learn."

But, again, to make that auctioneer feel like he's got the knowledge, and you know nothing.

Then, the big thing was the auction rooms. When you go into the auction room, you've got to be careful. The guy on the desk doesn't go into the auction on the night, because he spots two of you bidding for the bugger, then he'd think, "Hold on, why are they bidding against their own picture?" Sometimes we nearly bought the buggers back. And what we used to do, you'd have a preview. So on the day, you would have people coming in to look at the pictures, to see what they wanted to buy. We used to stand next to my pictures, or two of them, and we'd pretend not to listen. We'd go, "Oh." And the other guy'd go, "Hm, Albert Darby. It's interesting." Said, "It looks pretty good to me. You gonna have a pop at this?" And you'd mark it down, thinking, "Right, I've got him."

[Censored], he was in one side, I was in the other, and we used to ring it. So my sign was for when we were bidding up. We used to get to 2-1/2 grand, and I'd either do that, that I'm out, and he would carry on. And I used to do that twice. If you're going to overdo it, you buy the bloody thing back yourself. Yeah. So we hit the [censored] and said, "Oh, don't say it, don't say it." But we hit Bond Street Gallery for 45 grand. And we got 25 in readies, then the rest in a check, which we cashed immediately.

There you go. That's the other way.

Chapter 4: The Market

Mostly dealers would buy. They would buy for reselling. Oh, you get privates, you know. We fooled a lot of people with ours. But we had never had any comebacks. Never once did they suspect that they were -- Well, how do you feel about this? You got a picture, you listen to all these people talk about it, it's four weeks old, and it's dated 1797. So, you know, who knows? It just goes on.

Chapter 5: Getting Caught

Somebody legged it. Somebody crossed us up. And they raided us one night when I was in Fulham. They found all this bee glue, old paintings, stretchers -- everything. Then they charged me with forgery and deception. [Censored] got off. I didn't. I got nicked.

And I had a single cell, 'cause I asked the governor. I asked the governor for oil paints, he agreed. And then pencils and paper and things like that. And so [censored] came to me, and we'd be visiting in those days. So, what he used to do is he used to bring the paper in, and he'd have it up his sleeve. And he used to slide out some paper that he used to nick from the library, and flip clean pages. The pages were really old -- 1830s. So I could do Samuel Palmer drawings in my cell, put it in a Bible, next time he came up I was to roll them up, and roll them up his sleeve. He used to take them back home, frame them up, shove them in the auction. So when I came out, I had about 4 grand.

So I was forging in prison.

Chapter 6: The Aftermath

If I walked into Christie's or Sotheby's, a bloody bell would ring. 'Cause I'm on camera, aren't I? Well, I'm banned from auctions. I'm banned from every auction. In the old days, if there's a bang on the door, I was halfway out the bloody window. But I don't have to do that now. I just feel content with my lot.

Chapter 7: The Backstory

I was born in Buckingham Road, in Brighton, in a basement flat. Five of us. And it was poverty. It got so bad that they decided to take us away. So that was the first place, was Barkingside, we went to, the children's home. I did all that; came back to my mother; I ran away to London; and then I thought, "the only job you could get was in the circus." So I went up to the circus in Chipping Norton. When I left the circus, I hit Portobello Road. I saw lots of paintings, I thought, "I can do those myself." And so I did about five or six pictures. Then off you go. Portobello Road, here I come.

Do I feel remorse? To be honest, I just felt it was survival, you know? I didn't sink. Perhaps if I was that age -- I was only 19 or 20.

My book is called, "Max Brandrett, Britain's Number One Forger." And it's not about how to fake a picture. It's my real, my life story.

[admin]

Vatican Library
by Wikipedia
Accessed: 10/25/22


Vatican Apostolic Library
Pope Sixtus IV Appoints Bartolomeo Platina Prefect of the Vatican Library, fresco by Melozzo da Forlì, 1477, now in the Vatican Museums
Country: Vatican City
Type: Research library
Established: 1475 (547 years ago)
Coordinates 41°54′17″N 12°27′16″ECoordinates: 41°54′17″N 12°27′16″E
Collection
Size: 75,000 codices; 1.1 million printed books
Other information
Director: Angelo Vincenzo Zani
Website: http://www.vaticanlibrary.va

The Vatican Apostolic Library (Latin: Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, Italian: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana), more commonly known as the Vatican Library or informally as the Vat,[1] is the library of the Holy See, located in Vatican City. Formally established in 1475, although it is much older—it is one of the oldest libraries in the world and contains one of the most significant collections of historical texts. It has 75,000 codices from throughout history, as well as 1.1 million printed books, which include some 8,500 incunabula.[2]

The Vatican Library is a research library for history, law, philosophy, science, and theology. The Vatican Library is open to anyone who can document their qualifications and research needs. Photocopies for private study of pages from books published between 1801 and 1990 can be requested in person or by mail.

Pope Nicholas V (1447–1455) envisioned a new Rome with extensive public works to lure pilgrims and scholars to the city to begin its transformation. Nicolas wanted to create a "public library" for Rome that was meant to be seen as an institution for humanist scholarship. His death prevented him from carrying out his plan, but his successor Pope Sixtus IV (1471–1484) established what is now known as the Vatican Library.

In March 2014, the Vatican Library began an initial four-year project of digitising its collection of manuscripts, to be made available online.

The Vatican Apostolic Archive was separated from the library at the beginning of the 17th century; it contains another 150,000 items.

Historical periods

Scholars have traditionally divided the history of the library into five periods, Pre-Lateran, Lateran, Avignon, Pre-Vatican and Vatican.[3]

Pre-Lateran

The Pre-Lateran period, comprising the initial days of the library, dating from the earliest days of the Church. Only a handful of volumes survive from this period, though some are very significant.

110: Ignatius of Antioch uses the term Catholic Church in a letter to the church at Smyrna, in one of the letters of undisputed authenticity attributed to him. In this and other genuine letters he insists on the importance of the bishops in the church and speaks harshly about heretics and Judaizers.

-- Timeline of the Catholic Church, by Wikipedia

Lateran

The Lateran era began when the library moved to the Lateran Palace and lasted until the end of the 13th century and the reign of Pope Boniface VIII, who died in 1303, by which time he possessed one of the most notable collections of illuminated manuscripts in Europe. However, in that year, the Lateran Palace was burnt and the collection plundered by Philip IV of France.[4]

Avignon

The Avignon period was during the Avignon Papacy, when seven successive popes resided in Avignon, France. This period saw great growth in book collection and record-keeping by the popes in Avignon, between the death of Boniface and the 1370s when the Papacy returned to Rome.

Pre-Vatican

The Pre-Vatican period ranged from about 1370 to 1447. The library was scattered during this time, with parts in Rome, Avignon, and elsewhere. Pope Eugenius IV possessed 340 books by the time of his death.[5]

Vatican

In 1451, bibliophile Pope Nicholas V sought to establish a public library at the Vatican, in part to re-establish Rome as a destination for scholarship.[6][7] Nicholas combined some 350 Greek, Latin and Hebrew codices inherited from his predecessors with his own collection and extensive acquisitions, among them manuscripts from the imperial Library of Constantinople. Pope Nicholas also expanded his collection by employing Italian and Byzantine scholars to translate the Greek classics into Latin for his library.[7] The knowledgeable Pope already encouraged the inclusion of pagan classics.[1] Nicolas was important in saving many of the Greek works and writings during this time period that he had collected while traveling and acquired from others.

In 1455, the collection had grown to 1200 books, of which 400 were in Greek.[8]

Nicholas died in 1455. In 1475 his successor Pope Sixtus IV founded the Palatine Library.[7] During his papacy, acquisitions were made in "theology, philosophy and artistic literature".[4] The number of manuscripts is variously counted as 3,500 in 1475[4] or 2,527 in 1481, when librarian Bartolomeo Platina produced a signed listing.[9] At the time it was the largest collection of books in the Western world.[8]

Pope Julius II commissioned the expansion of the building.[7] Around 1587, Pope Sixtus V commissioned the architect Domenico Fontana to construct a new building for the library, which is still used today. After this, it became known as the Vatican Library.[7]

During the Counter-Reformation, access to the library's collections was limited following the introduction of the Index of banned books. Scholars' access to the library was restricted, particularly Protestant scholars. Restrictions were lifted during the course of the 17th century, and Pope Leo XIII formally reopened the library to scholars in 1883.[6][7]

When looking at the secrets held within Vatican City, perhaps the most logical place to start is the Vatican Secret Archives. The name itself is evocative of mystery, and many theories have naturally arisen about what might be held among the 53 miles of shelves and 12 centuries' worth of documents only available to a select few....

[T]he Archives are not fully public: they're only open to scholars who have passed a rigorous vetting process, and journalists were not allowed to see the contents of the Archives until 2010.

-- Dark Secrets of the Vatican Revealed, by Benito Cereno, July 6, 2022

In 1756, Abbot Piaggio conserver of ancient manuscripts in the Vatican Library used a machine he also invented,[10] to unroll the first Herculaneum papyri, which took him months.[11]

In 1809, Napoleon Bonaparte arrested Pope Pius VII and removed the contents of the library to Paris. The contents were returned in 1817, three years after the defeat of Napoleon.[7]

In 1992 the library had almost 2 million catalogued items.[6]

In 1995 art history teacher Anthony Melnikas from Ohio State University stole three leaves from a medieval manuscript once owned by Francesco Petrarch.[12][13] One of the stolen leaves contains an exquisite miniature of a farmer threshing grain. A fourth leaf from an unknown source was also discovered in his possession by U.S. Customs agents. Melnikas was trying to sell the pages to an art dealer, who then alerted the librarian director.[13]

The Island of Lost Maps tells the story of a curious crime spree: the theft of scores of valuable centuries-old maps from some of the most prominent research libraries in the United States and Canada. The perpetrator was Gilbert Joseph Bland, Jr., an enigmatic antiques dealer from South Florida, whose cross-country slash-and-dash operation had gone virtually undetected until he was caught in 1995–and was unmasked as the most prolific American map thief in history. As Miles Harvey unravels the mystery of Bland’s life, he maps out the world of cartography and cartographic crime, weaving together a fascinating story of exploration, craftsmanship, villainy, and the lure of the unknown.

Location and building


Ancient Roman sculpture, maybe of Saint Hippolytus of Rome, found in 1551 at Via Tiburtina, Rome, and now at the Vatican Library

The Library is located inside the Vatican Palace, and the entrance is through the Belvedere Courtyard.[14] When Pope Sixtus V (1585-1590) commissioned the expansion and the new building of the Vatican Library, he had a three-story wing built right across Bramante's Cortile del Belvedere, thus bisecting it and changing Bramante's work significantly.[1] At the bottom of a grand staircase a large statue of Hippolytus decorates the La Galea entrance hall.[15]

In the first semi-basement there is a papyrus room and a storage area for manuscripts.[15] The first floor houses the restoration laboratory, and the photographic archives are on the second floor.[15]

The Library has 42 kilometres (26 mi) of shelving.[16]

The Library closed for renovations on 17 July 2007[17] and reopened on 20 September 2010.[18] The three year, 9 million euro renovation involved the complete shut down of the library to install climate controlled rooms.[19]

Architecture and art

In the Sala di Consultazione or main reference room of the Vatican Library looms a statue of St Thomas Aquinas (c. 1910), sculpted by Cesare Aureli (1844 in Rome – 1923). A second version of this statue (c. 1930) stands under the entrance portico of the Pontifical University of St Thomas Aquinas, Angelicum.[a][21]


The Sistine Hall of the Vatican Library.


Golden Rose stored in the Vatican Library.


Ceiling fresco of the Sistine Hall, photograph by Jean-Pol Grandmont

Library organization

Catalogue

The collection was originally organized through notebooks used to index the manuscripts. As the collection grew to more than a few thousand, shelf lists were used.[7] The first modern catalogue system was put in place under Father Franz Ehrle between 1927 and 1939, using the Library of Congress card catalogue system. Ehrle also set up the first program to take photographs of important works or rare works.[7] The library catalogue was further updated by Rev. Leonard E. Boyle when it was computerized in the early 1990s.[7]

Reading and lending


Bookcase in the Vatican Library

Historically, during the Renaissance era, most books were not shelved but stored in wooden benches, which had tables attached to them. Each bench was dedicated to a specific topic. The books were chained to these benches, and if a reader took out a book, the chain remained attached to it. Until the early 17th century, academics were also allowed to borrow books. For important books, the pope himself would issue a reminder slip.[7] Privileges to use the library could be withdrawn for breaking the house rules, for instance by climbing over the tables. Most famously Pico Della Mirandola lost the right to use the library when he published a book on theology that the Papal curia did not approve of.[22] In the 1760s, a bill issued by Clement XIII heavily restricted access to the library's holdings.

The Vatican Library can be accessed by 200 scholars at a time,[23] and it sees 4,000 to 5,000 scholars a year, mostly academics doing post-graduate research.[19]

Collections


A miniature from the Syriac Gospel Lectionary (Vat. Syr. 559), created ca. 1220 near Mosul and exhibiting a strong Islamic influence.

While the Vatican Library has always included Bibles, canon law texts, and theological works, it specialized from the beginning in secular books. Its collection of Greek and Latin classics was at the center of the revival of classical culture during the Renaissance age.[8] The oldest documents in the library date back to the first century.[16]

The library was founded primarily as a manuscript library, a fact reflected in the comparatively high ratio of manuscripts to printed works in its collection. Such printed books as have made their way into the collection are intended solely to facilitate the study of the much larger collection of manuscripts.[24]

The collection also includes 330,000 Greek, Roman, and papal coins and medals.[6]

Every year about 6,000 new books are acquired.[6]

The library was enriched by several bequests and acquisitions over the centuries.

In 1623, in thanks for the adroit political maneuvers of Pope Gregory XV that had sustained him in his contests with Protestant candidates for the post of Electort, the hereditary Palatine Library of Heidelberg, containing about 3,500 manuscripts was given to the Holy See by Maximilian I, Duke of Bavaria. He had just acquired it as loot in the Thirty Years' War. A token 39 of the Heidelberg manuscripts were sent to Paris in 1797 and were returned to Heidelberg at the Peace of Paris in 1815. A gift of 852 others was made in 1816 by Pope Pius VII to the University of Heidelberg, including the Codex Manesse. Aside from these cases, the Palatine Library remains in the Vatican Library to this day.

In 1657, the manuscripts of the Dukes of Urbino were acquired. In 1661, the Greek scholar Leo Allatius was made librarian.

Queen Christina of Sweden's important library (mostly amassed by her generals as loot from Habsburg Prague and German cities during the Thirty Years War) was purchased on her death in 1689 by Pope Alexander VIII. It represented, for all practical purposes, the entire royal library of Sweden at the time. Had it remained where it was in Stockholm, it would all have been lost in the destruction of the royal palace by fire in 1697.

Among the most famous holdings of the library is the Codex Vaticanus Graecus 1209, the oldest known nearly complete manuscript of the Bible. The Secret History of Procopius was discovered in the library and published in 1623.

Pope Clement XI sent scholars into the Orient to bring back manuscripts, and is generally regarded as the founder of the Library's Oriental section.[7]

A School of library science is associated with the Vatican Library.

In 1959, a Film Library was established.[25] This is not to be confused with the Vatican Film Library, which was established in 1953 at Saint Louis University in St. Louis, Missouri.

The Library has a large collection of texts related to Hinduism, with the oldest editions dating to 1819.[26]

During the library's restoration between 2007 and 2010, all of the 70,000 volumes in the library were tagged with electronic chips to prevent theft.[19]

Manuscripts


The Abyss of Hell, coloured drawing on parchment by Sandro Botticelli (1480s)


Wandalbert von Prüm, July, Martyrologium (c860)

Main page:

Category: Manuscripts of the Vatican Library

Notable manuscripts in the Library include: Illuminated manuscripts:

Manuscripts relating to Christianity

• Barberini Gospels
• Gelasian Sacramentary, one of the oldest books on Christian liturgy
• Joshua Roll
• Lorsch Gospels, an illuminated gospel book written and illustrated from 778 to 820, which is spread up between various museums. The carved ivory rear cover and the Gospels of Luke and John are kept in the Vatican Library.
• Menologion of Basil II[27]
• Vatican Croatian Prayer Book
• Vergilius Vaticanus

Classic Greek and Latin texts

• Vergilius Romanus, Virgil's Aeneid
• Codex Vaticanus Ottobonianus Latinus 1829, an important 14th-century manuscript of Catullus' poems
• Codex Vaticanus Latinus 3868, a 9th-century facsimile of Terence's comedies[28]
• Parts of Euclid's Elements, most notable Book I, Proposition 47, one of the oldest Greek texts on the Pythagorean Theorem[1]

Alternative

• Codex Borgia, an extensive Mesoamerican manuscript that depicts mythology and foundational rituals in the hieroglyphic texts and iconography made of animal skins.
• Codex Vat. Arabo 368, the sole manuscript of the Hadith Bayad wa Riyad, an Arabic love story[29]
• Codex Vaticanus 3738, the Codex Ríos,[30] an accordion folded Italian translation of a Spanish colonial-era manuscript, with copies of the Aztec paintings from the original Codex Telleriano-Remensis, believed to be written by the Dominican friar Ríos in 1566.
• De arte venandi cum avibus, a Latin treatise on falconry in the format of a two-column parchment codex of 111 folios written in the 1240s.

Texts:

• Codex Vaticanus Latinus 3256, four leaves of the Vergilius Augusteus[31]
• Codex Vaticano Rossi 215, fragments of the Rossi Codex[32]
• Codex Vaticanus Graecus 1209, one of the oldest extant Bibles in Greek language
• Libri Carolini
• Vaticanus Graecus 1001, the original manuscript of the Secret History[33]
• One fragment of Heliand and three fragments of the Old Saxon Genesis comprise the Palatinus Latinus 1447.[34]

Qurans

The Library contains over 100 Quran manuscripts from various collections, cataloged by the Italian Jewish linguist, Giorgio Levi Della Vida: Vaticani arabi 73; Borgiani arabi 25; Barberiniani orientali 11; Rossiani 2. The largest manuscript in the library, Vat. Ar. 1484, measures 540x420mm. The smallest, Vat. Ar. 924, is a circle of 45mm diameter preserved in an octagonal case.[35]

Digitization projects

In 2012, plans were announced to digitize, in collaboration with the Bodleian Library, a million pages of material from the Vatican Library.

On 20 March 2014, the Holy See announced that NTT Data Corporation and the Library had concluded an agreement to digitize approximately 3,000 of the Library's manuscripts within four years.[36] NTT is donating the equipment and technicians, estimated to be worth 18 million Euros.[37] It noted that there is the possibility of subsequently digitizing another 79,000 of the Library's holdings. These will be high-definition images available on the Library's Internet site. Storage for the holdings will be on a three petabyte server provided by EMC.[38] It is expected that the initial phase will take four years.[39]

DigiVatLib is the name of the Vatican Library's digital library service. It provides free access to the Vatican Library's digitized collections of manuscripts and incunabula.[40]

The scanning of documents is impacted by the material used to produce the texts. Books using gold and silver in the illuminations require special scanning equipment.[23] Digital copies are being served using the CIFS protocol, from network-attached storage hardware by Dell EMC.[16]

Gallery of holdings


Gospel of Matthew in Persian, the first Persian manuscript to enter the Vatican Library


Manuscript page with the five-voice "Kyrie" of the Missa Virgo Parens Christi by Jacques Barbireau


Mappamondo Borgiano, also known as "Tavola di Velletri", consisting of two copper tablets (1430)


Month of May from in the Chronography of 354 by the 4th century kalligrapher Filocalus


Anton Raphael Mengs, The Triumph of History over Time (Allegory of the Museum Clementinum), ceiling fresco in the Camera dei Papiri, Vatican Library


Illumination from the legend of Sain Emerich of Hungary's, c. 1335


Battle between David and Goliath, Book of Psalms, c. 1059


The ivory panels from the back cover of Codex Aureus of Lorsch

Related libraries

Vatican Apostolic Archive

Main article: Vatican Apostolic Archive

The Vatican Apostolic Archive, located in Vatican City, is the central archive for all of the acts promulgated by the Holy See, as well as the state papers, correspondence, papal account books,[41] and many other documents which the church has accumulated over the centuries. In the 17th century, under the orders of Pope Paul V, the Archives were separated from the Vatican Library, where scholars had some very limited access to them, and remained absolutely closed to outsiders until 1881, when Pope Leo XIII opened them to researchers, more than a thousand of whom now examine its documents each year.[42]

Vatican Film Library

Main article: Vatican Film Library

The Vatican Film Library in St. Louis, Missouri is the only collection, outside the Vatican itself, of microfilms of more than 37,000 works from the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, the Vatican Library in Europe. It is located in the Pius XII Library on the campus of Saint Louis University.[43] The Library was created by Lowrie J. Daly (1914–2000), with funding from the Knights of Columbus.[44] The goal was to make Vatican and other documents more available to researchers in North America.[45]

Microfilming of Vatican manuscripts began in 1951, and according to the Library's website, was the largest microfilming project that had been undertaken up to that date.[46] The Library opened in 1953, and moved to the St. Louis University campus, in the Pius XII Memorial Library, in 1959. The first librarian was Charles J. Ermatinger, who served until 2000. As of 2007, the Library has microfilmed versions of over 37,000 manuscripts, with material in Greek, Latin, Arabic, Hebrew and Ethiopic, as well as several more common Western European languages. There are reproductions of many works from the Biblioteca Palatina and Biblioteca Cicognara at the Vatican, as well as Papal letter registers from the Archivio Segreto Vaticano (Vatican Secret Archives) from the 9th to 16th centuries, in the series Registra Vaticana and Registra Supplicationium.[47]

Staff

The nominal head of the library has often over the centuries been made a cardinal and hence given the title Cardinal Librarian.[7] The effective directors, often distinguished scholars, were in an earlier period called "Custodians.[7] After the reopening of the library in 1883, Pope Leo XIII changed the title to Prefect.[7][48][49]

The library currently has some 80 staff who work in five departments: manuscripts and archival collections, printed books/drawings, acquisitions/cataloguing, coin collections/museums and restoration/photography.[6]

List of librarians

(P) Indicates time spent as Pro-Librarian. This is the role of acting Librarian, often a Librarian who is not a Cardinal.[50]

Name / Lifetime / Title / Duration as Librarian[51][52]

Marcello Cervini 1501–1555 Bibliothecarius I 24 May 1550–9 April 1555
Roberto de' Nobili 1541–1559 Bibliothecarius II 1555–18 January 1559
Alfonso Carafa 1540–1565 Bibliothecarius III 1559–29 August 1565
Marcantonio da Mula 1506–1572 Bibliothecarius IV 1565–17 March 1572[53]
Guglielmo Sirleto 1514–1585 Bibliothecarius V 18 March 1572–16 October 1585
Antonio Carafa 1538–1591 Bibliothecarius VI 16 October 1585–13 January 1591
Marco Antonio Colonna 1523 ca.–1597 Bibliothecarius VII 1591–13 March 1597
Cesare Baronio 1538–1607 Bibliothecarius VIII May 1597–30 June 1607[54]
Ludovico de Torres 1552–1609 Bibliothecarius IX 4 July 1607–8 July 1609
Scipione Borghese Caffarelli 1576–1633 Bibliothecarius X 11 June 1609–17 February 1618[55]
Scipione Cobelluzzi 1564–1626 Bibliothecarius XI 17 February 1618–29 June 1626
Francesco Barberini 1597–1679 Bibliothecarius XII 1 July 1626–13 December 1633
Antonio Barberini 1569–1646 Bibliothecarius XIII 13 December 1633–11 September 1646
Orazio Giustiniani 1580–1649 Bibliothecarius XIV 25 September 1646–25 July 1649
Luigi Capponi 1583–1659 Bibliothecarius XV 4 August 1649–6 April 1659
Flavio Chigi 1631–1693 Bibliothecarius XVI 21 June 1659–19 September 1681[56]
Lorenzo Brancati 1612–1693 Bibliothecarius XVII 19 September 1681–30 November 1693
Girolamo Casanate 1620–1700 Bibliothecarius XVIII 2 December 1693–3 March 1700
Enrico Noris 1631–1704 Bibliothecarius XIX 26 March 1700–23 February 1704
Benedetto Pamphili 1653–1730 Bibliothecarius XX 26 February 1704–22 March 1730
Angelo Maria Querini 1680–1755 Bibliothecarius XXI 4 September 1730–6 January 1755
Domenico Passionei 1682–1761 Bibliothecarius XXII 10 July 1741–12 January 1755(P)
12 January 1755–5 July 1761
Alessandro Albani 1692–1779 Bibliothecarius XXIII 12 August 1761–11 December 1779
Francesco Saverio de Zelada 1717–1801 Bibliothecarius XXIV 15 December 1779–29 December 1801
Luigi Valenti Gonzaga 1725–1808 Bibliothecarius XXV 12 January 1802–29 December 1808
Giulio Maria della Somaglia 1744–1830 Bibliothecarius XXVI 26 January 1827–2 April 1830
Giuseppe Albani 1750–1834 Bibliothecarius XXVII 23 April 1830–3 December 1834
Luigi Lambruschini 1776–1854 Bibliothecarius XXVIII 11 December 1834–27 June 1853
Angelo Mai 1782–1854 Bibliothecarius XXIX 27 June 1853–9 September 1854
Antonio Tosti 1776–1866 Bibliothecarius XXX 13 January 1860–20 March 1866
Jean Baptiste François Pitra 1812–1889 Bibliothecarius XXXI 19 January 1869–9 February 1889[57]
Placido Maria Schiaffino 1829–1889 Bibliothecarius XXXII 20 February 1889–23 September 1889
Alfonso Capecelatro 1824–1912 Bibliothecarius XXXIII 29 August 1890–14 November 1912[58]
Mariano Rampolla del Tindaro 1843–1913 Bibliothecarius XXXIV 26 November 1912–16 December 1913
Francesco di Paola Cassetta 1841–1919 Bibliothecarius XXXV 3 January 1914–23 March 1919
Aidan [Francis Neil] Gasquet 1845–1929 Bibliothecarius XXXVI 9 May 1919–5 April 1929
Franz Ehrle 1845–1934 Bibliothecarius XXXVII 17 April 1929–31 March 1934
Giovanni Mercati 1866–1957 Bibliothecarius XXXVIII 18 June 1936–23 August 1957
Eugène Tisserant 1884–1972 Bibliothecarius XXXIX 14 September 1957–27 March 1971
Antonio Samoré 1905–1983 Bibliothecarius XL 25 January 1974–3 February 1983
Alfons Maria Stickler 1910–2007 Bibliothecarius XLI 7 September 1983–27 May 1985(P)
27 May 1985–1 July 1988
Antonio María Javierre Ortas 1921–2007 Bibliothecarius XLII 1 July 1988–24 January 1992
Luigi Poggi 1917–2010[59] Bibliothecarius XLIII 9 April 1992–29 November 1994(P)
29 November 1994–25 November 1997
Jorge María Mejía 1923–2014 Bibliothecarius XLIV 7 March 1998–24 November 2003
Jean-Louis Tauran 1943–2018 Bibliothecarius XLV 24 November 2003–25 June 2007
Raffaele Farina 1933– Bibliothecarius XLVI 25 June 2007–9 June 2012
Jean-Louis Bruguès 1943– Bibliothecarius XLVII 26 June 2012–1 September 2018
José Tolentino de Mendonça 1965– Bibliothecarius XLVIII 1 September 2018–26 September 2022
Angelo Vincenzo Zani 1950– Bibliothecarius XLIX 26 September 2022–

See also

• Vatican City portal
• Catholicism portal
• Archive of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
• Index of Vatican City-related articles
• The Vatican Splendors

Notes

1. This sculpture is described in the following words: "S. Tommaso seduto, nella sinistra tiene il libro della Summa theologica, mentre stende la destra in atto di proteggere la scienza cristiana. Quindi non siede sulla cattedra di dottore, ma sul trono di sovrano protettore; stende il braccio a rassicurare, non a dimostrare. Ha in testa il dottorale berretto, e conservando il suo tipo tradizionale, rivela nel volto e nell'atteggiamento l'uomo profondamente dotto. L'autore non ha avuto da ispirarsi in altr'opera che esistesse sul soggetto, quindi ha dovuto, può dirsi, creare questo tipo, ed è riuscito originale e felice nella sua creazione."[20]

References

1. Mendelsohn, Daniel (3 January 2011). "God's Librarians". The New Yorker. Vol. 86, no. 42. p. 24. ISSN 0028-792X. Retrieved 3 August 2014.
2. "The Vatican Library Goes Online and Digitizes Tens of Thousands of Manuscripts, Books, Coins, and More". Open Culture. 6 January 2020. Retrieved 5 April 2022.
3. Strayer, Joseph, ed. (1989). Dictionary of the Middle Ages. Scribner. ISBN 0684190737.
4. Wiegand, Wayne A.; Davis, Donald G., eds. (1994). Encyclopedia of Library History. New York: Garland. p. 653. ISBN 0824057872.
5. Mycue, David (1981). "Founder of the Vatican Library: Nicholas V or Sixtus IV?". The Journal of Library History. University of Texas Press. 16 (1): 121–133. JSTOR 25541179. Retrieved 7 October 2020.
6. Bloom, Ocker. "The Vatican Library and its History". Ibiblio. Retrieved 1 August 2014.
7. Meert, Deborah. "A History of the Vatican Library". capping.slis.ualberta.ca. University of Alberta. Archived from the original on 8 December 2013. Retrieved 31 July 2014.
8. "The Library of Congress: Rome Reborn: The Vatican Library & Renaissance Culture - The Vatican Library - The City Reborn: How the City Came Back to Life". Retrieved 2 August 2014.
9. Clark, John Willis (1899). On the Vatican Library of Sixtus IV.
10. Giacomo Castrucci (1856). "Tesoro letterario di Ercolano, ossia, La reale officina dei papiri ercolanesi".
11. "Herculaneum Papyri in the National Library in Naples". The Phraser. 2015.
12. HONAN, WILLIAM H. (30 May 1995). "Teacher Tied to Stolen Manuscript Pages Faced Prior Ethics Questions, Colleagues Say". The New York Times. Retrieved 1 August 2014.
13. MONTALBANO, WILLIAM D. (25 May 1995). "U.S. Scholar Suspected in Theft of Manuscript Pages". Los Angeles Times. Retrieved 1 August 2014.
14. "Vatican Apostolic Library". Vaticanstate.va. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
15. "The Pope's Visit to the Vatican Library". L'Osservatore Romano. 19 December 2010. Archived from the original on 8 August 2014. Retrieved 5 April 2022.
16. Del Nibletto, Paolo. "The Vatican Library CIO's sacred mission: To digitize everything". itworldcanada.com. IT World Canada. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
17. Willey, David (17 July 2007). "Vatican Library closure irks scholars". BBC News. Retrieved 17 July 2007.
18. "Vatican Library Homepage". Retrieved 13 September 2010.
19. Winfield, Nicole (15 November 2010). "Vatican library reopens after 3-year restoration". NBC News. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
20. Hendrix, John (2003). History and culture in Italy. University Press of America. ISBN 9780761826286. Retrieved 9 September 2012.
21. Vaticana, Biblioteca Apostolica (1893). Nel giubileo episcopale di Leone XIII. omaggio della Biblioteca vaticana XIX febbraio anno MDCCCXCIII. Retrieved 9 September 2012.
22. "The Library of Congress: Rome Reborn: The Vatican Library & Renaissance Culture - The Vatican Library - A Library Takes Shape: Books, Benches, and Borrowers". Retrieved 2 August 2014.
23. Taylor, Lesley Ciarula (2 May 2013). "Digitizing history: 82,000-manuscript collection Vatican Library goes online". Toronto Star. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
24. "The Vatican Palace, as a Scientific Institute". Catholic Encyclopedia. New Advent. Retrieved 2 August 2014.
25. "Statute of the Vatican Film Library". vatican.va. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
26. "Vatican Library carries extensive collection of ancient Hindu scriptures". eurasia review. 29 June 2014. Archived from the original on 28 July 2014. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
27. John W. Wohlfarth (1 September 2001). Elysium. AuthorHouse. p. 128. ISBN 978-0-7596-5406-8.
28. C. R. Dodwell (2000). Anglo-Saxon Gestures and the Roman Stage. Cambridge University Press. p. 3. ISBN 978-0-521-66188-1.
29. D’Ottone, Arianna (2010). "Il manoscritto Vaticano arabo 368: Hadith Bayad wa Riyad. Il codice, il testo, le immagini". Rivista di Storia della Miniatura (in Italian). Centro Di. 14: 55. Retrieved 25 July 2014.
30. "FAMSI - Akademische Druck - u. Verlagsanstalt - Graz - Codex Vaticanus 3738". Akademische Druck - u. Verlagsanstalt - Graz CODICES. FAMSI. Retrieved 29 July 2014.
31. Vergilius Augusteus : vollst. Faks.-Ausg. im Originalformat : Codex Vaticanus Latinus 3256 d. Biblioteca apostolica vaticana u. Codex Latinus fol. 416 d. Staatsbibliothek Preussischer Kulturbesitz. Catalog - UW-Madison Libraries. University of Wisconsin Madison Libraries. 1976. Retrieved 29 July 2014.
32. Christopher Kleinhenz (8 January 2004). Medieval Italy: An Encyclopedia. Routledge. p. 136. ISBN 978-1-135-94880-1.
33. Charney, Noah (16 November 2011). "Vatican Mysteries: What's So Secret about Procopius' "Secret History?"". Blouinartinfo. Louise Blouin Media. Archived from the original on 22 February 2014. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
34. John M. Jeep (2001). Medieval Germany: An Encyclopedia. Psychology Press. p. 57. ISBN 978-0-8240-7644-3.
35. Gozeler, Ezra (2017). "A Study on Qurʾān Manuscripts in the Vatican Library in terms of Physical and Content Features". Cumhuriyet flahiyat Dergisi-Cumhuriyet Theology Journal. 21 (3). Retrieved 5 April 2022.
36. McKenna, Josephine (20 March 2014). "Vatican library plans to digitise 82,000 of its most valuable manuscripts". The Daily Telegraph. Archived from the original on 24 March 2014. Retrieved 23 March 2014.
37. Denti, Antonio (20 March 2014). "Vatican library will digitize its archives and put them online". Reuters. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
38. Greiner, Lynn (23 July 2014). "Storage giant EMC looks to ease concerns about Flash technology". Financial Post.com. Retrieved 28 July 2014.
39. Denti, Antonio (20 March 2014). "Vatican library will digitize its archives and put them online". Reuters. Retrieved 1 August 2014.
40. "DigiVatLib". digi.vatlib.it. Retrieved 17 January 2017.
41. von Pastor, Ludwig Freiherr (1906). The History of the Popes: From the Close of the Middle Ages. Drawn from the Secret Archives of the Vatican and Other Original Sources, Volume 3. Trübner & Company Ltd. p. 31. Retrieved 28 July 2014. papal account books.
42. "Table of Admittances to the Vatican Secret Archives in the Last Years". Archived from the original on 6 May 2011.
43. "Knights of Columbus Vatican Film Library - Home Page". slu.edu. Retrieved 13 November 2007.
44. "LOWRIE J. DALY, S.J., MEMORIAL LECTURE ON MANUSCRIPT STUDIES". Libraries at Saint Louis University. Saint Louis University. Archived from the original on 30 July 2014. Retrieved 29 July 2014.
45. C. Krohn, Ernst (June 1957). "Notes Second Series, Vol. 14, No. 3". Notes. Music Library Association. 14 (3): 317–324. doi:10.2307/891821. JSTOR 891821.
46. "Kentucky New Era - Aug 14, 1954". Kentucky New Era. 14 August 1954. Retrieved 30 July 2014.
47. "Vatican Archives Papal Library Registers". Saint Louis University. Retrieved 5 April 2022.
48. "Government | Sito ufficiale dell'Archivio Segreto Vaticano – Città del Vaticano". Archiviosegretovaticano.va. Archived from the original on 8 January 2014. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
49. "BAV - Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana". Vaticanlibrary.va. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
50. Guruge, Anura. "Replacement For Cardinal Farina As The Archivist; Cardinal Antonelli's Replacement, Vincenzo Paglia, Immediately A Cardinalabili". Popes and Papacy. Retrieved 2 August 2014.
51. "Vatican Library History". Vaticanlibrary.va. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
52. "Vatican Apostolic Library - Institute Connected with the Holy See". GCatholic.org. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
53. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of February 26, 1561 (II)". 5 August 2006. Retrieved 10 July 2013.
54. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of September June 5, 1596 (II)". 15 April 2007. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
55. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of July 18, 1605 (I)". Archived from the original on 23 May 2017. Retrieved 7 October 2013.
56. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of April 9, 1657 (I)". Retrieved 7 October 2013.
57. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of March 16, 1863 (XIII)". Retrieved 7 October 2013.
58. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Consistory of July 27, 1885 (VIII)". Retrieved 7 October 2013.
59. "Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Luigi Poggi". Retrieved 7 October 2013.

Works cited

• Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church - Miranda, Salvador. "The Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church". Florida International University Libraries.

Further reading

• Hanson, James Christian Meinich. “Cataloguing Rules of the Vatican Library.” Library Quarterly 1 (January 3, 1931): 340–46.
• Rome Reborn: The Vatican Library & Renaissance Culture, an online exhibition from the Library of Congress.
• Vatican to digitize Apostolic Library of 1.6 million volumes for general perusal, PCWorld.com, 29 October 2002. A joint effort between the Vatican and Hewlett-Packard.

External links

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana.

• Official website
• Vatican Library old home page, with online catalog search
• History of the Vatican Library, from the Library's site
• Treasures of the Vatican Library Exposed via The European Library
• Toward On-line, worldwide access to Vatican Library materials (1996). A collaborative effort (pioneered by Fr. Leonard Boyle OP Prefect of the Vatican Library) between the Vatican Library and IBM, the primary goal of which is to "provide access via the Internet to some of the Library's most valuable manuscripts, printed books, and other sources to a scholarly community around the world."
• Knights of Columbus Vatican Film Library. Saint Louis University library that focuses on the collection of the Vatican Library.
• The Secret History of Art by Noah Charney on the Vatican Library and Procopius. An article by art historian Noah Charney about the Vatican Library and its famous manuscript, Historia Arcana by Procopius.
• The Vatican: spirit and art of Christian Rome, a book from The Metropolitan Museum of Art Libraries (fully available online as PDF), which contains material on the library (p. 280-290)

*******************************

Bibliotheca Palatina [Palatine Library of Heidelberg]
by Wikipedia
Accessed: 10/27/22


Codex Manesse: Konrad von Altstetten.


Illustration from the Buch der Heiligen Dreifaltigkeit, 1565-1585


Kaiser and three crowned men kneeling in front of him, 1565-1585


Frederick II as depicted in De arte venandi cum avibus

The Bibliotheca Palatina ("Palatinate library") of Heidelberg was the most important library of the German Renaissance, numbering approximately 5,000 printed books and 3,524 manuscripts. The Bibliotheca was a prominent prize captured during the Thirty Years' War, taken as booty by Maximilian of Bavaria, and given to the Pope in a symbolic and political gesture.[1][2] While some of the books and manuscripts are now held by the University of Heidelberg, the bulk of the original collection is now an integral part of the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana at the Vatican.

The important collection of German-language manuscripts have shelf-marks beginning cpg (older usage: Cod. Pal. ger., for "Codices Palatini germanici"), while the vast Latin manuscript collection has shelf-marks with cpl (or Cod. Pal. lat., for "Codices Palatini latini").

Foundation

In the 1430s, Elector Louis III founded the Stiftsbibliothek in the Heiliggeistkirche, which had good light for reading. This library formed the core of the Palatine Collection established by Elector Ottheinrich in the 1550s, together with the University Library Heidelberg. Essential manuscripts from the original Bibliotheca Palatina include the Carolingian "Lorsch Evangelary", the Falkenbuch (De arte venandi cum avibus, cpl 1071, commissioned by Frederick II), and the Codex Manesse (cpg 848)

Further important manuscripts were acquired from the collection of Ulrich Fugger (d. 1584), notably the illustrated Sachsenspiegel (cpg 164). Joseph Scaliger considered this Fugger Library superior to that owned by the Pope; the manuscripts alone were valued at 80,000 crowns, a very considerable sum in the 16th century.[3]

Thirty Years War

The Palatinate suffered heavily in the Thirty Years War, and in 1622 Heidelberg was sacked by the Catholic League, whose general Count von Tilly was in the employ of Maximilian of Bavaria. As book plundering was a source of both Catholic and Protestant cultural triumph during the Thirty Year's War, the occupiers jostled for control of the library.[2]

Maximilian originally wanted to add the Bibiliotheca Palatina to his own library in Munich. Ferdinand II also sought it, sending counter-instructions to Tilly to keep it for his own collection in Vienna.[2] Although many books were torn or "dispersed among private hands"[3] during the sack, Pope Gregory XV convinced Maximilian to present the remaining manuscripts to the Vatican as "a sign of his loyalty and esteem"[4] and to support his claim to the Palatinate's electoral title.[2] The preparations to secure transport the collection to Rome were supervised by the Greek scholar Leo Allatius, sent to Heidelberg by the Vatican.

The Bibliotecha was a prominent prize captured during the Thirty Years' War. The victors were concerned not just with carrying away the collection and thus stripping the Calvinist party of one of its most important intellectual symbols; they also had wanted to eliminate all documentation of the library's provenance. The capture of the Palatine library was a carefully orchestrated symbolic act of looting in the Thirty Years' War, and triggered further acts of similar confiscations throughout the course of the hostilities.[1]

Thus, as of 1623, the entire remaining library had been incorporated into the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, with each volume preserving, as a memorial, a leaf with the Wittelsbach arms.

By the Treaty of Tolentino (1797), the Pope ceded 37 manuscripts to the French Republic, which had them deposited in the Bibliothèque nationale in Paris. After the Congress of Vienna in 1814–1815 decreed "the general restoration [or return] of works of art, of which the French had robbed other countries,"[3] the contested manuscripts were conveyed from Paris to Heidelberg, rather than to Rome.[clarification needed] In 1816, Prince Hardenberg and Ignaz Heinrich von Wessenberg persuaded Pope Pius VII to make a gift of 852 manuscripts, mostly in German, to the University of Heidelberg.

For the University Jubilee, some other books were temporarily brought back from the Vatican and were displayed at the Heiliggeistkirche in 1986.

See also

• Index of Vatican City-related articles

References

1. Bepler, J. "Vicissitudo Temporum: Some Sidelights on Book Collecting in the Thirty Years War". Sixteenth Century Journal. 32 (4). doi:10.2307/3648986. JSTOR 3648986.
2. Thomas, Andrew L. (2010). A House Divided: Wittelsbach Confessional Court Cultures in the Holy Roman Empire, C. 1550-1650. Brill. p. 297. ISBN 9004183566.
3. The Classical Journal for March and June 1816, page 212.
4. Luther: Lectures on Romans, ed. by Wilhelm Pauck. Westminster John Knox Press, 1961. ISBN 0-664-24151-4. Page xxii.

Further reading

• Leonard Boyle (ed.): Bibliotheca Palatina, Druckschriften, Microfiche Ausgabe, München 1989-1995, ISBN 3-598-32880-X (Gesamtwerk), ISBN 3-598-32919-9 (Index)
• Elmar Mittler (ed.): Bibliotheca Palatina, Druckschriften, Katalog zur Mikrofiche-Ausgabe, Band 1-4, München 1999, ISBN 3-598-32886-9
• Ludwig Schuba, Die medizinischen Handschriften der Codices Palatini Latini in der Vatikanischen Bibliothek, Wiesbaden, 1981, Dr. Ludwig Reichert Verlag (Kataloge der Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg 1), ISBN 3-88226-060-2
• Ludwig Schuba, Die Quadriviums-Handschriften der Codices Palatini Latini in der Vatikanischen Bibliothek, Wiesbaden 1992, Dr. Ludwig Reichert Verlag (Kataloge der Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg 2), ISBN 3-88226-515-9
• Dorothea Walz, Die historischen und philosophischen Handschriften der Codices Palatini Latini in der Vatikanischen Bibliothek (Cod. Pal. Lat. 921 - 1078), Wiesbaden 1999, Dr. Ludwig Reichert Verlag (Kataloge der Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg 3), ISBN 3-89500-046-9

External links

• Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg
• Bibliotheca Palatina-digital
• Bibliotheca Palatina – The Story of a World-Famous Library

[admin]

Part 1 of 2

I. The World of the Counterfeiters, from "Stealing Lincoln's Body"
by Thomas J. Craughwell
2009

I. The World of the Counterfeiters

In 1647 the General Court of Rhode Island ordered the confiscation of all counterfeit wampum. The counterfeiters were Indians, members of the Algonquian nation, a large group of tribes that dominated what is now the northeastern United States. Their currency was wampum, strings of beads made from white whelk shells and purple-black quahog shells. In the Indian economy, the quahog shells were worth about twice as much as the whelk. It was an unfamiliar form of money to Europeans; but since the gold and silver coins of the Old Country were scarce in the New World, the English colonists of Rhode Island and the Dutch colonists of New Netherlands agreed among themselves to adopt wampum as legal tender. It wasn't long before the Indians realized that here was an opportunity to take advantage of the newcomers. They hoarded the valuable quahog shells for themselves, dyed the cheaper white shells a dark purplish black, then passed them off as the real thing to the undiscerning Europeans. (The record is sketchy, but it is probable that Europeans also manufactured counterfeit wampum.) It took some time, but eventually the white men discovered that they had been had. Soon thereafter, the colonists went off the "wampum standard" and returned to conducting their business with gold and silver coins.1

The Significance of Wampum

Soon after Henry Hudson claimed the land now know as the Hudson River valley for the Netherlands in 1609, the Dutch tried to exploit the area for a profit. Adventurous merchant traders came to the area as early as 1611-1612 and quickly discovered there was money to be made in the fur trade. From that point the trade in beaver pelts remained the basis of the New Netherland economy throughout the Dutch colonial period.

Furs were acquired from the Indians at a favorable rate and then shipped to Amsterdam where they commanded much higher prices. To be successful in this venture the traders needed to be able to deal with the Indians and therefore they needed to know what the Indians valued and what would be accepted in exchange for furs. From this rather pragmatic approach the Dutch learned the value of wampum. Therefore, even before the arrival of the first permanent New Netherland settlers in 1624, the Dutch had an keen understanding of wampum, which they called seawant and variously spelled as zeewant, zeawant, seawant, seewant, seewan, seawan or sewan.

Significantly, when the first colonists sent their initial shipment of beavers back to Amsterdam on the ship Wapen van Amsterdam (the Arms of Amsterdam), which departed New Amsterdam on September 23, 1626, the cargo included various symbolic gifts as evidence of the success of the colony. Among the items were strings of wampum, a tangible symbol of their command of the fur trade.

Indeed, it was Isaac de Rasiere, Secretary of New Netherland, who first brought wampum to Plymouth Plantation. As part of a diplomatic mission in October of 1627, de Rasiere presented Plymouth's Governor, William Bradford, with some colored cloth and a chest of white sugar; he also sold the governor 50 fathoms of wampum (a fathom was a six foot length containing about 360 beads, see Peña, p. 23). Later, in a letter to Samuel Blommaert, probably written in 1628, de Rasiere explained he had brought the wampum to Plymouth so the Pilgrims would not "seek after" wampum on their own. He felt a quest for wampum would lead to their discovering the fur trade and thus hurt Dutch interests (Narratives, p. 110). De Rasiere did not understand the Pilgrims were not trying to exploit the land for a quick profit but rather considered themselves to be permanent residents. In fact, the Pilgrims were already trading their surplus corn to the Indians for furs, but had no plans to emulate the Dutch and become full time fur traders.

The role of wampum in conducting trade with the Indians is mentioned in a letter of August 11, 1628 by one of the earliest Dutch settlers, the Reverend Jonas Michaelius. Michaelius, having recently arrived in Manhattan from Dutch West Africa, observed the Indians had products to sell, "but one who has no wares, such as knives, beads, and the like, or seewan [i.e. wampum], cannot come to any terms with them" (Narratives, p. 130). This is further elucidated in one of the earlier Dutch new world chronicles which discusses negotiations concerning the acquisition of pelts from the Indians for wampum and cloth. In the winter of 1634 three West India Company employees were sent from Fort Orange to negotiate a price for furs with the Iroquois Indians, located west of the fort. It seems some French traders from Lake Oneida had entered the area and were trying to gain control of the market. One of the three employees, a barber-surgeon named Harmen Meyndertsz van den Bogaert kept a journal of this adventure. On January 3, 1635 he was negotiating with the Iroquois, who offered to sell his company (the Dutch West India Company) all of their beaver pelts if they could agree to a price. Earlier, on December 30th, the Indians mentioned they had previously sold skins to French trappers. The Indians asked for four handfuls of wampum and four hand breaths of duffel cloth for each large beaver. Van den Bogaert replied he would need approval from the Director General in New Amsterdam before he could agree to the deal. Whether this agreement was approved was not related (Bogaert, pp. 15-17).

The importance of wampum to the Indian is best expressed in a letter from the Reverend Johannes Megapolensis, who was assigned to the fur trading center at Fort Orange, an outpost at present day Albany. On August 26, 1644, just over two years after Megapolensis had arrived at the fort, he wrote a short account of the Indians living in the region, the Mohawks. In this account he related the Indian attitude toward money as follows:

Their money consists of certain little bones, made of shells or cockles, which are found on the sea-beach; a hole is drilled through the middle of the little bones, and these they string upon thread, or they make of them belts as broad as a hand, or broader, and hang then on their necks, or around their bodies. They have also several holes in their ears, and there they likewise hang some. They value these little bones as highly as Christians do gold, silver and pearls; but they do not like our money, and esteem it no better than iron. I once showed one of their chiefs a rix-dollar; he asked how much it was worth among the Christians; and when I told him, he laughed exceedingly at us, saying we were fools to value a piece of iron so highly; and if he had such money, he would throw it into the river. (Narratives, p. 176)

Clearly the need to understand, use and accumulate wampum was essential if one was to participate in the fur trade. New Netherland Director General Pieter Stuyvesant clearly expressed the importance of wampum to the directors of the West India Company in a letter he sent to them on April 21, 1660, where he stated:

wampum is the source and the mother of the beaver trade, and for goods only, without wampum, we cannot obtain beavers from the savages. (Fernow, History, p. 470)

Typically the Dutch traded wampum and commodities, such as cloth, metal utensils and liquor to the Indians for beaver pelts. Also, although there were regulations against it, guns and gunpowder were traded for pelts. When finalizing major agreements or large purchases the commodities would typically be given as gifts, then during the negotiations the Indians would be plied with liquor and a final agreement would specify an amount of wampum to be paid per pelt.

Wampum Production on Long Island

In a fortunate coincidence for the Dutch, the east end of Long Island happened to be the center of wampum production for Indian tribes in the northeastern coastal region. Long Island wampum was well know and circulated widely. Because of the large quantity of wampum the Dutch called the island Seawanhackey, that is, place of seawan. British colonists also visited the area and considered it to be a rich source for beads; John Winthrop thought Long Island was the best location from which Massachusetts Bay would be able to acquire wampum.

The significance of the area was brought out during discussions of the realignment of the borders between New Netherland and the British colonies, which took place at the Hartford Convention in September of 1650. The secretary of New Netherland, Cornelis van Tienhoven, wrote several communications on the disputed lands. In a description of the boundaries of New Netherland written on February 22, 1650 van Tienhoven included a discussion of Long Island, in which he stated, "The greatest part of the Wampum, for which the furs are traded, is manufactured there by the Natives." (O'Callaghan, vol. 1, p. 360). In a supplemental letter written less that two weeks later, on March 4, 1650, he further explained the importance of the area:

I begin then at the most easterly point of Long Island ... This point is also well adapted to secure the trade of the Indians in Wampum, (the mine of New Netherland,) since in and about the abovementioned sea and the islands therein situated, lie the cockles whereof Wampum is made, from which great profit could be realized by those who would plant a colony or hamlet at the aforesaid Point, for the cultivation of the land, for raising all sorts of cattle, for fishing and the wampum trade. (O'Callaghan, vol. 1, p. 365)...

The Distribution of Wampum

Although we know where and in what manner wampum beads were produced, very little is understood about how wampum was put into circulation. A few incites [insights]on wampum distributed in New Amsterdam during the 1650's can be gleaned from the New Amsterdam court records. Among the seven volumes of summary records that survive, describing thousands of cases brought before the court from the years 1653-1674, a few cases briefly mention isolated information concerning wampum production and distribution insofar as they were pertinent to the case in question.

From these records we learn some Dutch were employed in stringing loose wampum beads. In a case of December 8, 1653 Madaleen Jansen demanded payment of 21 florin and 15 stuivers "for wages earned in stringing wampum for Andries Kristman deceased" (RNA, vol. 1, p. 137). From the minutes of the court at Fort Orange for February 18, 1659 Baefien Pietersen stated Evert Nolden was to employ her "for a year to string seawan" but let her go after six months (Minutes, Ft. Orange, vol. 2, pp. 117-118). In a New Amsterdam case of January 17, 1665 Adam Onckelbagh (plaintiff) sued Freryck Flipzen (defendant) because:

Pltf. says, that his wife strung seawant for the deft. and that the deft. will not pay here for the stringing as much wages, as she gets from others. Deft. says, he agreed with the pltfs. wife to pay four guilders per hundred for the white and two for the black, and that his wife did it again for him after that date. Pltf. denies it,. ...[the court ruled]... that deft. shall pay to the pltf. as wages for stringing according to the custom heretofore, five guilders per hundred guilders of the white, and two guilders ten stivers, of the black sewant. [RNA, vol 5, p. 176]

Clearly these were not isolated events but rather problematic cases in what seems to have been a longstanding business in which some Dutch merchants outsourced work to local women to string loose wampum. Elizabeth Peña lists additional examples in her 1990 dissertation (pp. 29-30), she also mentions a 1662 document that included the name Henry Zeewant ryger (Henry Seawant Stringer), possibly someone who operated (or worked for) one of these businesses.

The merchants who employed wampum stringers most likely obtained their beads from Indian manufacturers, for there is no evidence of large scale Dutch wampum production in early in New Amsterdam. However, we do know in the British colonies some settlers were involved in bead production during the early Seventeenth century. In 1648 John Winthrop, Jr. of Massachusetts acquired 1,000 wampum drills and 12,000 pins from Alexander Bryant and later supplied William Pynchon with wampum for his fur trade along the Connecticut River (see Peña, pp. 67-69). Rather than employing colonists to produce the beads it is more likely Winthrop made some arrangement with Indians whereby he supplied them with tools in exchange for wampum beads. The only suggestive evidence I have found possibly relating to bead production from early New York is a case from the British period. On July 7, 1668 a Mr. Young of Bermuda sold Mr. Isaac Bedloo 400 conch shells, which Bedloo then immediately sold to Fredrick Philips (RNA, vol. 6, p. 141). As conch shells were the preferred material for making wampum, it is possible these 400 shells were purchased with that end in mind.

Little is know about wampum manufacture by the european colonists during the Seventeenth century, but more information is available on the later periods. From archaeological excavations and various extant records we do know that from the 1690's through the mid Eighteenth century there were several British factories in the colony of New York producing wampum for the Indian trade, with some surviving into the Nineteenth century. (see Peña, pp. 29, 78-84 and 150-160)

Although there is no direct evidence of New Netherland colonists mass producing wampum it is probable some individuals produced what may be called "counterfeit" wampum. A New Netherland ordinance of May 30, 1650 mentioned there had been problems with loose wampum for a long time and that imitation beads of "Stone, Bone, Glass, Muscle-shells, Horn, yea even of Wood" were found in circulation (Laws, p. 115). The ordinance suggested these beads came from New England, and no doubt several did, however, it is also possible some were locally produced. Most probably these "counterfeit" beads were made by colonists hoping to turn a quick profit. Similar problems were recorded in the Plantation of New Haven for, in the New Haven General Court session of October 16, 1648 it was stated any stone wampum offered in payment of a debt should be destroyed. (New Haven Records, p. 405)

Thus, although some illegal or "counterfeit" loose wampum was probably produced by colonists, it seems during the Dutch period the wampum stringers used beads produced by the Indians. Unfortunately New Netherland court records do not mention specific lengths of strung wampum. One of the few references to wampum string lengths in New Netherland is from a letter of Director General Pieter Stuyvesant dated July 23, 1659, where it stated wampum was, "not now bartered by counting so many for a guilder or a stiver, but by the handful, length or fathom." (Fernow, History, pp. 438 439) This implied at some earlier point individual beads had been counted out but by 1659 bead counting was replaced by simply trading quantities of wampum; loose wampum was traded by the handful while strung wampum was traded by the length or fathom. Peña suggested the fathom, equal to a six foot string of about 360 beads, was the standard length in New Netherland (Peña, p. 23). Indeed that may have been the case, however it is likely bead strings of varying lengths were also traded. In an ordinance of January 3, 1657 it was stated there were several complaints of miscounting which the council intended to remidy by issuing stamped measures of wampum in strings of a quarter, a half and one guilder, that is: 5, 10 and 20 stuivers. This implies non standard lengths had been in use and often were represented as having more beads than were actually on the string. The desire was to replace both "short or long" wampum, that is lengths that were either shorter or longer than the standard. The ordinance stated:

in order to prevent in future the complaints of miscounting of the Wampum, with regard to which no few mistakes have been experienced, to the loss of the Honorable Company's Treasury; also, the taking out of short or long Wampum ... from this time forward, after the publication and posting hereof, Wampum shall not be paid out or received ... by the tale or stiver, but only by a stamped measure, authorized to be made and stamped for that purpose, by the Director General and Council, the smallest of which measures shall be five stivers; the whole ten, and the double 20 stivers. (Laws, pp. 290-291)

Based on the use of merchantable white beads this would calculate to lengths of 30, 60 and 120 beads. The ordinance also stated small change under 2.5 stuivers would be paid in loose wampum (that is, by the tale or piece). Thus clarifying the statement in the law that loose wampum would "not be paid out or received" as meaning it was not to be used in large quantities but only as small change. Other portions of this ordinance, discussed below in the section on regulating wampum, were vehemently opposed by local merchants so the entire law was suspended six days later on January 9, 1657 and never seems to have gone into effect.

In daily trade sums of wampum were usually expressed in guilders rather than by the number of strings of wampum or the string length, thus for the most part we only know that so many guilders worth of wampum were traded for an item. However, a few references exist that mention string length and the majority of those citations refer to the fathom. Many, but not all, of these references are in the context of dealings with Indians, as guilder amounts were meaningless to native americans. The one exception is the earliest surviving reference to fathoms of wampum, which does not involve Indians; it is in the ca. 1628 letter of Isaac de Rasiere, Secretary of New Netherland, discussed above, in which he mentioned he had sold Plymouth's Governor, William Bradford, 50 fathoms of wampum. However, even here de Rasiere anticipated the wampum would be traded to the Indians for other goods. Fathoms of wampum are also mentioned in the administrative minutes of the court of Fort Orange for July 15, 1654, where eleven prominent citizens offered amounts of between three to six fathoms of wampum each to be given to the Indians during treaty negotiations (Fort Orange Court Minutes, vol. 1, pp. 170-171). Also, in the New Amsterdam court minutes for March 20, 1656 we discover Pieter Monfoort purchased a canoe from an Indian for 10 fathoms of wampum (RNA, vol. 2, p. 67). Both the fathom and handfull (or a hand length) were mentioned in the ordinance of November 11, 1658. In the context of a discussion on increasing the number of beads needed to equal a stuiver, the ordinance stated, "the more Beads the Traders receive for a stiver, the greater length of hands or fathoms they will give for a Beaver" (Laws, p. 358). Clearly in this context the phrase refers to the beads given by the traders to the Indians. What may represent some non standard length strings are mentioned in the court minutes from Fort Orange on June 16, 1657. In these minutes we learn of a meeting between local officials and three Indian sachems. During this meeting the three sachems offered three strings of wampum amounting to gl. 16:12, 16:9 and 13:10. Based on the then current valuation of beads at 6 white or 3 black per stuiver, the three lengths would be at least 996, 987 and 810 beads long, if exclusively black, or just under three fathoms in length or up to a maximum of 1,922; 1,974 and 1,620 beads long, if exclusively white, or over five fathoms in length. This assumes the word "string" in the text refers to a long strand of single beads rather than a belt or band with multiple rows of beads. (Fort Orange Court Minutes, vol. 2, p. 45). In the wampum charts included in this site, the guilder value of a fathom length of wampum has been included in tables 1a and 1b.

In daily New Netherland commerce strung wampum was often presented in a bag or a box. In a New Amsterdam case of September 1, 1653 we learn, "one bag of wampum labeled fl. 51:18, was deposited at the Secretary's office," (RNA, vol. 1, p. 112, the amount mentioned is 51 florin and 18 stuivers). In a case of June 28, 1665 the court was asked to rule if some wampum was good merchantable wampum valid for payment. The summary stated, "The deposited Seawan being produced in Court, the Court pronounced it good and merchantable. Two parcels, black, of fl. 22.4 and fl. 19.1, and one parcel white, of fl. 65.4." (RNA, vol. 1, p. 326). In another court case concerned with wampum quality from January 17, 1656, "a certain box of white stringed Zeewan to the amount of fl. 84.3" was presented in court. The ruling was, "that the Zeewan, exhibited by the petitioner is good merchantable Zeewan, and has, therefore, sealed the same [that is, sealed the box] in Court." (RNA, vol. 2, p. 12). In a letter from the company directors in Amsterdam sent to New Amsterdam on December 22, 1659 the complaint was made that wampum was not profitable as it could not be quickly exchanged, rather merchants and storekeepers had to hold onto "their boxes full of wampum" (Fernow, History, p.450) until the annual trading auctions. Again, on July 3, 1663 we read Marshal Mattheus de Vos deposited with the city 88 guiders 12 and a half stuivers from the goods of Nicholaas Langevlthuyzen (probably his estate) consisting of three boxes of seawan (one containing 8 florin and 8 stuivers; another containing 30 florin and 2.8 stuivers; and a third containing 30 florin) as well as one paper containing 20 florin and 8 stuivers of wampum (RNA, vol. 4, 272).

An interesting case of April 24, 1656 sheds some further light on distribution. It seems individuals purchased boxes of wampum from the wampum stringers. In this case Adriaen Blommart charged, "he received from deft. a box of Zeewan for fl. 142:3. And that only fl. 100 were found therein;" The defendant, Jacob Hendrik Varvanger stated, "he received it so counted from the Zeewan-Stringers..." Varvanger suggested the defendant's wife removed some wampum but Blommart's wife took an oath that she had not taken any. When the court asked Varvanger to take an oath that the full amount had been in the box when he handed it over, he stated he could not swear to it. In the end the court required Varvanger to pay the additional fl. 42:3.

From these few gleaning is seems some dealers obtained wampum beads at a wholesale or bulk purchase rate from the Indian bead makers. Local woman were then hired to string these beads, probably in fathom lengths, then the dealers sold boxes or bags of stringed wampum to the public.

In addition to locally made wampum the sources often mention poorer quality wampum brought into New Amsterdam from the outside, especially from the New England colonies. Indeed, the influx of poor unpolished wampum was given as a reason for the need to regulate wampum value in the ordinance of April 18, 1641, discussed below. This poorer quality wampum was strung but it sometimes circulated as loose wampum beads. Frequently loose wampum contained several broken beads that could not be strung. These broken beads, like the unpolished, chipped or blemished beads, were unacceptable to the Indians and thus were deemed unmerchantable. Sometimes individuals had the court inspect wampum to resolve a dispute as to whether the beads were of good merchantable quality or not. A few instances have been mentioned above in the context of wampum bags and boxes. In those cases the wampum was declared to be good but in a case of May 11, 1654 Willem Albertson deposited two bundles of wampum with the court in payment of a 100 guilder debt. The court ruled the wampum was unacceptable and would be sold to make partial payment. Albertson would be required to pay the balance of his debt in either beaver or good current wampum (RNA, vol. 1, p. 197). The problems caused by poor wampum are discussed below in the section on wampum regulations.

-- Money Substitutes in New Netherland and Early New York: Wampum

The Indians giving a Talk to Colonel Bouquet in a Conference at a Council Fire, near his Camp on the Banks of Muskingum in North, America, in Oct. 1764.

When William Penn first settled in America, his primary task was to establish a peaceful rapport with the Lenape people native to the land. As part of their agreement of friendship, a precious belt of wampum was produced, with figures in purple clasping hands against a background of white; it was a physical reminder of their accordance. George Washington, as a young officer, found himself in possession of one of these shell bead belts -– a gift from the French to their Indian allies -– and the meaning of the belt was grim. Four houses were laid out in the beads, symbolizing the four posts the native tribe had agreed to defend. Washington would negotiate with the Indians and persuade them to return the belt to the French, in essence dissolving the treaty between them. Wampum or wampumpeag, though simple beads woven together with cord, carried enormous significance and played a pivotal role in the alliances and interactions between people throughout it’s history.

In the waters off Cape Cod stretching down through to New York, a variety of mollusk called the quahog is quite plentiful. What is remarkable about this particular clam is that after the meat is removed from the shells, brilliant purple or black striations ring the edges of the shell. To the native people whose lands covered the areas of the Northeastern shores, these shells were considered precious. Through an unfortunate series of events, wampum became recognized as a currency by European colonists and traders and to this day is still wrongfully described as “shell money”.

The Role of Wampum Prior to the Arrival of Europeans


Iroquois Wampum Belt in the collection of the British Museum -– 1600-1800.

The coastal Algonquin speaking tribes have been making wampum from as early as 2500 BC -– this prehistoric form was a flat, disc-like bead. Later, tube shaped wampum would dominate the historic era.

The technique for producing wampum was one that had to be acquired through patience and practice, as the shells were very delicate when they were cut into beads. Using a stone drill called a puckwhegonnautick, was used to bore a hole into each bead for stringing -– drilling halfway on one end before flipping the bead to drill the rest of the way. The layers of calcium carbonate that compose the clam’s shell are brittle and while seemingly hard they could shatter into pieces if not worked carefully. Once completed, the wampum was strung on animal sinews or vegetable fibers and made into “belts” of solid beads, often with symbolic designs to record historical events.


White beads, called wampi, were made from whelks called Meteauhock in Algonquin. Purple of Black beads, called mercenaria, were made from quahog clam shells. This is known by the Haudenosaunee Confederacy by several names: “the Remembrance belt”, “the Defeat of the French Record belt” or “the Peacemaker belt”.

While the idea of making beads suggests that wampum was for jewelry, for natives of the Atlantic shore these beads transcended mere ornamentation. Wampum was used as a means of communication, remembrance, or as a means to bestow honor. Tribes would call each other to meetings by sending a wampum belt. Treaties were made and recorded in wampum, as physical proof of the contract made between parties -– cutting up a belt of wampum meant that the treaty was violated or rejected. An exchange of wampum would constitute an engagement between a man and a woman. The dead would be buried with wampum. It was essential for conflict resolutions between individuals -– a gift of wampum would turn away the wrath of the wronged party. Wampum also denoted the status of the individuals wearing it within their sachem’s social strata. Belts of wampum recorded historical events. Foreigners describe the scenes at some of the great tournaments the Natives played -– games that were similar to soccer or rugby that lasted for days -– and they mention that enormous numbers of wampum strings were hung upon rafters or posts to be received by the winning team.

The Monetary Worth of Wampum Realized



It was only during an encounter with the Dutch that wampum would take on a sense of monetary value in the eyes of Europeans. In 1622, a trader from the Dutch West Indies Company took a high ranking member of the Pequot sachem hostage, threatening to kill him if a hefty ransom was not received. Over 280 yards of wampum was the ransom deemed appropriate for the status of the captive -– to the Dutch trader, it seemed that the most prized possession of the native Americans were shell beads. While the reciprocal exchange of the wampum was not capitalistic exchange, the Europeans soon began to use the beads like currency to purchase beaver pelts and other valuable furs.

“After two years of trader persistence, wampum became an item of mass consumption, and Plymouth had effectively eliminated most of its small-scale competitors.… [Once] a symbol of prestige, wampum had become a medium of exchange and communication available to all, leading Indians through-out New England toward greater dependence on their ties with Europeans.”

— NEAL SALISBURY – MANITOU AND PROVIDENCE

The Power Struggles Behind Mass Production Of Wampum

The Dutch encouraged tribes to devote themselves solely to the production of wampum (called Zeewant in Dutch, so the Pequot and the Narragansett tribes busied themselves with the manufacture of what would be known for centuries following as “Indian money”. Tribes that were left out of this monopoly on wampum production would pay tribute to the more influential tribes, to keep their alliances strong and ensure their protection. Later, the tensions and power struggles between English and Dutch colonies and these two influential tribes producing wampum would result in the Pequot War, where the main wampum production or wampum storage villages were targeted and the entire Pequot tribe would be destroyed. With the Pequots being removed from the trade, the Narragansetts gladly stepped into the void left in the market.

Wampum was considered legal tender from 1637 to 1661 (and even up through the 1670’s in some colonies) with a set exchange rate against the Dutch stuiver.

… It answers all occasions, as gold and silver doth with us.

— DANIEL GOOKIN, MASSACHUSETTS MISSIONARY TO THE WAMPONOAG

[As] This wampum’s value as currency [was] realized, the culture behind the production of the beads altered. The Dutch were already using Venetian glass beads for trading with other indigenous peoples they interacted with in Africa and India, and the natives living in North America were amiable to innovative products, to the idea of acquiring new spiritual power and to engaging socially and making alliances with newcomers, expecting that there would be balance and reciprocity as it existed within their own culture. In some wampum belts, glass beads are mixed with authentic shell beads as part of a repair -– or simply used as interchangeable in meaning and power with the shell beads.


An 18th c wampum belt in the collection of the Penn Museum, showing a single blue glass bead incorporated.

Wampum Looses Monetary Status

A change that took effect when wampum was used as currency is one that most everyone familiar with minted currencies: counterfeit.4 The rates for beads were based on their rarity -– the white beads begin [being] most prevalence [prevalent] and least costly, the purple being rarer and more costly and the black beads being the rarest and highest in rate of exchange. The temptation to dye inexpensive white beads with black dye to pass them off as more expensive black beads was too much for some enterprising souls, so the market was flooded with counterfeit currency. Laws were passed to try to curb the influx of counterfeit wampum, stating: “All wampum was to be strung in uniform units of one, three, and twelve pence in white and blacke at values of a pence 6 pence, 2 shillings 6, and 10 shillings…“5 Connecticut ordered that “no peaque, white or blacke, be paid or received but what is strung in some measure, suitably, and not small. great. uncomely. or disorderly mixt, as formerly it hath been.“6


A 18th c. portrait of Tee Yee Neen Ho Ga Row, one of the four Mohawk “kings”, holding a belt of wampum.

Around this same time, the lucrative business of the American fur trade died down as the West Indies imports of sugar, molasses, indigo, tobacco and cloth became highly profitable -– as was the timber exported from the colonies for shipbuilding. Minted silver coins were being used in exchange for goods in the islands, and in the 1650’s they ended up in the American colonies as well. The Massachusetts Bay Company set up a mint in Boston, and began producing their own coinage, the Boston or Bay Shilling. The sudden abundance of coin and the shifting market demands caused wampum to become obsolete as a legal tender. In 1661, the wampum valuation laws were repealed and wampum would no longer have a set exchange rate, only that agreed on by the parties involved in the transaction. Tribes like the Narragansetts, who had focused their communal efforts so completely on the production of wampum, would find they had no other enterprise to fall back on. While the once precious shell beads were still made in following years, their ancient spiritual and communicative powers remained somewhat undermined and their monetary value was completely diminished.


Inside Jahon. W. Campbell’s wampum factory set up in 1810 to supply the demand for wampum among plains tribes.

-- Wampumpeag, The Bead Of The Realm: America’s First Currency, by Niobe, hitorforum.com

From Pascack To The Plains: The Story Of Campbell Wampum
by Pascack Historical Society
February 14, 2016



The Pascack’s Campbell connection started when John W. Campbell (1747-1826) of Closter moved with his wife Letitia Van Valen to a farm they purchased on Kinderkamack Road North in Montvale, close to the New York State border. John W., like many farmers of his day, found a second job during the long winter months. He chose to create wampum, beads made out of clam shells, that the Indians used for a medium of exchange.

John W. is credited with inventing the shell “hairpipe” wampum made from Caribbean queen conch shells that came as ballast on trade ships heading for New York City. These tubular beads can be seen in early photographs on the breastplates of Indian warriors. These shell hair pipes put the Campbells on the map.

Pablino Diaz (Kiowa) wearing a hair pipe breastplate, 1899

In 1878, Joseph H. Sherburne became a trader to the Ponca people. The Ponca purchased great quantities of corn cob pipes from Sherburne, but only used the stem of the pipes as beads. White Eagle showed the trader a necklace made of the pipestems and asked if they could be ordered in bulk. Sherburne contacted S. A. Frost in New York about producing tubular bone beads and within a year, he had enough hair pipe beads to sell to the Ponca as well as other Indian traders.

-- Hair pipe, by Wikipedia

In 1808 John W.’s son Abraham (1782-1847) moved to Main Street (Pascack Road) Park Ridge, where he opened a blacksmith shop and wampum bead business. Abraham’s sons John A., James A., David A., and Abraham Jr. eventually became partners in the blacksmithing business and expanded the production of wampum.

The four weathered ledgers, never before seen by the public, were donated to the museum by Campbell descendants Linda Gifford VanOrden of Allendale and Susan Accardi of Simsbury, Connecticut. The sisters, who were raised in Hillsdale, inherited the ledgers from their uncle, the late Howard I. Durie (1919-1990), noted historian, genealogist and author of the Kakiat Patent.

To most people a wampum belt means any beaded belt made by Indians. Glass beads were introduced by white traders, and with these the Indian people did beautiful embroidery work. Before the introduction of glass beads, embroidery work was made with porcu­pine quills. The long hair from the bell or chin whiskers of moose was also used. With the introduction of the crude glass bead, the far more artistic porcupine quill and moose hair embroidery became a lost skill.

The true wampum bead was not made of glass. Along the Atlantic coastal waters from Cape Cod to Florida is found the quahog or round clam shell. Using this material the coastal Indian peoples made wampum beads. These were long, cylinder-shaped beads about one-fourth inch long and one-eighth of an inch in diameter in both white and purple. In ancient times wampum was strung on thread made of twisted elm bark. The word wampum is an Algonquin Indian term for these shell beads used by the Indians of the New England states. In the Seneca language it is called Ote-ko-a, a word that is the name of a small fresh water spiral shell. “Wampum” is the name that has sur­vived to the present day. The early Indians of the Atlantic seaboard used this white and purple wampum for personal decorations as well as for trading purposes. Belts, wrist bands, earrings, necklaces, and headbands of wampum were observed by early white colonists while visiting New England Indians. The Indian people originally drilled this wampum shell with stone or reed drills. Later, iron drills were substi­tuted.

Long Island Indians were especially skilled at manufacturing wampum. The process was simple, but it took long hours of practice before one was good at it. It took a great deal of patience and labor to make these beads. First the shell had to be broken into white or pur­ple cubes. These cubes were clamped into a fissure split of a nar­row stick. This was placed into a larger sapling splint in the same way. They were put on a firm support and a weight adjusted to cause the split to grip the shell firmly, holding it securely. A drill was braced against a solid object on the worker’s chest and adjusted to the center of the cubes. A pump or bow drill rotated the drill. From a container placed over the closely clamped shell cube drops of water fell on the drill to keep it cool. One had to be careful that the shell did not break because of overheating caused by friction. According to Iroquois tradition, peach pits were broken and boiled in water. The resulting liquid made the shell soft during the drilling process. When a hole was drilled half way through the shell, it was reversed and a hole was drilled from the other side. The next part of the process was to shape and smooth the outside of the wampum bead. The beads were strung on lengths of thread or string and worked back and forth in a grooved stone. Five- to ten-foot lengths of wampum could be made in one day.

Even European settlers became wampum makers, and the first money of the American colonists was wampum. Wampum has often been called the money of Indians, but this is not true. Indians did not use it as currency in any way. By 1627 the Dutch were busy making counterfeit wampum. As late as the year 1875, a German community in Bergen, New Jersey, was busy making wampum for trade with the Indians.

Fig. 73. Tools for making "Dutch" wampum.


Fig. 74. Wampum making: Roughly shaping a piece of shell before drilling.


Fig. 75. Wampum making: Squaring the ends of the shell by grinding.


Fig. 76. Wampum making: Perforating a roughly shaped bead.

From: Beads and Beadwork of the American Indians, by William C. Orchard, 1975, Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation (pp. 84-86.

At first only the coastal Indians had wampum. The east end of Long Island was the original seat of wampum trade. The Narragansett Indians who were related to these Long Island people soon controlled the wampum trade. They supplied the nations of the interior with their wampum, which was exchanged for furs from the western Indians.

-- Wampum Belts, by Indian Time

But hard money was still in short supply, so in 1652 the government of Massachusetts authorized the first mint in British North America. The Massachusetts mint issued a series of silver coins, some stamped simply "NE," for "New England," others engraved with images of oak, pine, or willow trees. Today, collectors covet these coins as the first examples of American-made money. But coins from Massachusetts bear another distinction -- among them were the first coins counterfeited in America, beginning around 1674, when John du Plessis was found guilty of turning out pewter imitations.2 Alas, the du Plessis case was not an isolated incident. Very quickly, counterfeiting became rife in the colonies.

In 1682 William Penn complained that he could not bring his "holy experiment" in Pennsylvania to fruition when half the coinage in his colony was phony. Counterfeit shillings were so common in Connecticut in 1721 that the colonial government despaired of ever getting them out of circulation. Delegates from the lower house of the Connecticut legislature suggested they accept the bogus coins as legitimate currency and assign them an actual value of two pence. In 1735 the governing council of South Carolina conceded that the colony's paper money was so debased by counterfeits that the colony had no choice but to recall all the fifteen-, ten-, four-, and three-pound notes. Making the matter worse was the English custom of transporting felons to America. In 1770 the convict ship Trotman docked in Maryland. Among the exiles were a number of counterfeiters, who within days of coming ashore were back in business.3

Poverty and illiteracy allowed counterfeiting to flourish. Since few colonists had ever seen a gold coin, they would accept any shiny, circular, gold-colored piece of metal as the genuine article. In the case of paper currency, so few colonists could read that sloppily printed counterfeit currency bearing such absurd spelling errors as "Instice" for "Justice," or "Two Crowes" for "Two Crowns," passed undetected through the hands of the unlettered. Consequently, colonists who were barely scraping by suffered the most from bad money, while the literate and well-to-do spotted these crude jobs at once and refused to accept them.4

Initially, the courts treated counterfeiting as a misdemeanor. A New York silversmith caught producing false coins in 1703 was punished with a small fine. But as counterfeit money took a greater toll on America's economy, the judges' sentences became harsher. In 1720 a Philadelphia counterfeiter was hanged, and in Newport, Rhode Island, a counterfeiter had his ears sliced off as a prelude to being sold into indentured servitude. To show that it meant business, New Jersey's colonial government adopted a motto for its three-shilling note: "To Counterfeit is Death."5

In spite of the shoddy coins and paper money in circulation, some ambitious counterfeiters understood that they would realize greater profits by turning out a superior product. In the early part of the eighteenth century two of the most successful counterfeiters in America were women. In 1712 Freelove Lippencott, the wife of a Rhode Island sailor, traveled to England, where she had plates engraved, patterned on the paper money of Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and Connecticut. Back home she recruited a gang of men known as shovers to put her false currency into circulation.6

The most ingenious of the eighteenth-century American counterfeiters was Mary Butterworth, the wife of a prosperous house builder in Rehoboth, Massachusetts. She was thirty years old and the mother of seven children in 1716, when she started making paper currency in her kitchen. Butterworth's method was breathtakingly original. First, she placed a piece of damp muslin over the bill she planned to counterfeit, then ran over it with a hot iron -- the one she used to press clothes. The heat, by causing some of the ink to adhere to the muslin, created a pattern. Next, Butterworth laid the pattern on a blank piece of paper and ran the iron over the muslin again, a process that transferred the ink to the paper. With a fine pen she filled in the rest of the details of the bill, then burned the muslin pattern, thereby eliminating the evidence. It was a brilliant method, one that worked so well that Mary Butterworth turned her counterfeiting into a cottage industry employing three of her brothers, Israel, Steven, and Nicholas Peck, as well as Nicholas's wife Hannah, to help her produce high-quality forgeries of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut currency. Mary Butterworth sold her product (she never used her bogus money herself) at half its face value to her shovers, among whom were a neighborhood innkeeper, some of the carpenters who worked for her husband, and the local deputy sheriff.

For seven years Mary churned out her bad money without attracting the attention of the law. Then, in 1723, she came under suspicion of counterfeiting. The authorities searched her house, but they found not a scrap of evidence against her. After all, there is nothing incriminating about a clothes iron and a fine pen. Nonetheless, the episode unnerved Mary; she gave up counterfeiting and lived quietly until her death in 1775 at eighty-nine years of age.7

The undisputed king of eighteenth-century American counterfeiters was a Morristown, New Jersey, engraver named Samuel Ford. In the I760s and 1770s he produced imitations of New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania currency so good that even the provincial treasurers of those colonies could not tell the difference between a forgery by Ford and the real thing. Small wonder that he was never caught.8

With the outbreak of the American Revolution, the Continental Congress authorized a national paper currency -- popularly known as continentals -- backed by the credit of the United States. This was a problematic claim, for no European power had recognized that the American rebellion marked the birth of a legitimate new nation, let alone that the rebels possessed the type of credit international bankers would respect. There was also the matter of the American treasury -- in essence, none existed. The thirteen states collected customs duties and taxes, and precious little of what they took in made its way to the congressional coffers in Philadelphia. Realizing that the new American currency had an unstable foundation, the British concluded that it would not take much to depreciate it. So around January 1776 a printing press was hauled out to the warship HMS Phoenix in New York harbor; the ship became a British-sanctioned counterfeiting workshop. The British counterfeits of continentals were excellent -- so good, in fact, that in April 1777 the king's counterfeiters ran an ad in a New York newspaper offering to sell their false currency to loyal subjects of the Crown at a rock-bottom price -- the cost of the paper it was printed on. The counterfeiters boasted about their bills: "[They] are so neatly and exactly executed that there is no Risque ... it being almost impossible to discover, that they are not genuine."9

The British found an indigenous distribution network for their phony money among the Tories, Americans who remained loyal to King George. One such loyalist, Colonel Stephen Holland, operated a network of shovers that extended from his home in New Hampshire down to the colonies in the South. Two other distributors, David Farnsworth and John Blair, were arrested by supporters of the American cause in Danbury, Connecticut, with ten thousand dollars' worth of false continentals on their persons. They tried to excuse themselves, saying that they were petty criminals compared with other members of their gang, who had passed forty thousand or fifty thousand dollars in bad currency elsewhere.10

The British lost the war, but they won the campaign to undermine America's finances. By 1779, less than three years after it was first issued, the continental currency was so debased that Congress declined to print any more. Fortunately for the new United States, its finances were rescued by the timely arrival of loans from France and the creative accounting of Robert Morris, the financial wizard of the Revolution.11

After the continental currency debacle, the general trend after the Revolution was toward establishing a monetary system based on gold and silver coins, a movement that gained momentum in 1792 when Congress authorized the establishment of the U.S. Mint. This did not stop the counterfeiters, however: they simply acquired new equipment to manufacture coins. A story has come down to us of an English counterfeiter named Peach who set up shop in the basement of a house on James Street on Manhattan's East Side, in what is now Chinatown. Peach manufactured "gold" Spanish doubloons, which had been esteemed good money in America since colonial times and were still in circulation in the 1820s. He was a man who took pride in his work; his false doubloons were of exactly the same weight and stamped with precisely the same design as authentic doubloons. Peach even took the trouble to "age" his coins. He churned his finished product in a barrel of sawdust, which rubbed the shine off the new coins and gave them a much-handled appearance. Next, he scattered the coins on a sheet of iron, then held the iron over a fire until the doubloons were slightly tarnished around the edges. This was a nice, authentic touch, because genuine doubloons really were tarnished, as a result of the coins' soaking in bilgewater in the hold of the Spanish treasure ships that distributed doubloons to Spain's colonies in the New World.12

Although the United States shied away from instituting a national paper currency, individual banks issued their own paper money known as banknotes. Unlike a national currency, the banknotes had no uniform design -- bankers adopted whatever style they found appealing. This absence of a single, universally accepted banknote proved a bonanza for counterfeiters. By 1859, the eve of the Civil War, nearly four thousand different types of counterfeit bills were in circulation. Some were authentic banknotes whose denomination had been tampered with -- a one-dollar bill became a ten; a five-dollar bill became a fifty. Others were outright counterfeits, ostensibly drawn against real or imaginary banks.13

Like all criminal professions, counterfeiting had its own vocabulary. Coney and queer were terms for counterfeit currency. The person who manufactured the false money was a coney man or a koniacker. Boodle meant bundles of counterfeit bills. A boodle carrier sold the counterfeit currency to distributors known as shovers. To shove meant to pass counterfeits in public as real money. As for real currency itself, that was rhino, nails, putty, or spondulics.14

In the years before the Civil War, counterfeiters began to congregate in carefully selected urban areas. Before 1820 counterfeiters had set up shop in any place that suited them; some were in small towns, others out in rural areas. Some even operated out of Canada. After 1820 almost all counterfeiters relocated to cities -- especially cities that had a substantial printing industry and were major transportation hubs. Since there were more printing and engraving businesses in the lower Manhattan neighborhood bounded by Broadway, the Bowery, Houston, and Chatham Streets than anywhere else in the country, this area became the unofficial capital of American counterfeiting. St. Louis did not have many printing businesses, but it enjoyed two other assets that counterfeiters prized. First, its location on the Mississippi River and its proximity to the Ohio and Missouri Rivers made it a natural distribution center for channeling the queer into the Midwest and the Far West. Second, Missourians hated banks. Time and again voters had rejected proposals to charter a state bank. As a result, the only paper currency in Missouri was banknotes from out-of-state banks, a situation that made the citizens of St. Louis and the rest of the state especially easy marks for counterfeiters.15

Yet in the years before the Civil War, as counterfeiting spread across the United States, it met with only haphazard resistance from local law enforcement. Certainly arrests were made: nineteen counterfeiters were arrested in New York City in 1830; thirty-one were picked up in 1840. Arrests dropped, inexplicably, to thirteen in 1850, then skyrocketed to ninety in 1860. In spite of these statistics, neither New York nor any other American metropolis ever launched an all-out campaign to eliminate counterfeiting from its jurisdiction. City police forces of the pre-Civil War era were not designed to fight counterfeiters. City cops were not trained as detectives. They were patrolmen who walked an assigned area of the city, the rationale being that the presence of a uniformed officer on the streets would make the criminals of the neighborhood think twice. A different type of lawman was required to track down counterfeiters, someone who had informants among the criminal underclass, who perhaps could work effectively undercover, and whose duties permitted him to spend months closing in on a suspect. No such crime-fighting organization existed in the United States of the 1860s. It took the crisis of civil war to bring such an agency into existence.16

[admin]

Part 2 of 2

From the moment the first artillery shell was fired at Fort Sumter in Charleston harbor, the finances of the United States slid into a crisis. The Union's largest immediate expenditure was for recruiting a vast new army, equipping it, and keeping it well supplied. In April 1861 the U.S. government had sixteen thousand regular troops, most of whom were deployed out West against hostile Indians. By December 1861, the number had exploded to six hundred thousand men in the Union army. The cost of weapons, ammunition, uniforms, equipment, food, and salaries for such a force was staggering, but government income was not keeping up with it.17

During April, May, and June of 1861 -- the first three months of the Civil War -- the federal government's revenue amounted to $5.8 million; its expenditures for the same period totaled $23.5 million.18 And it only got worse. On October 2, 1861, Salmon P. Chase of Ohio, the newly appointed secretary of the treasury, wrote to his friend Judge Simeon Nash, "The expenditures everywhere are frightful. ... The average daily drafts on the Treasury for two weeks past have been a million and three-quarters at least." Faced with such enormous outlays of cash, the U.S. government went into "slow pay" mode, holding back payments to merchants, manufacturers, and other suppliers. Of course, this caused cash-flow headaches for the suppliers, who responded by raising their prices.19

Chase attacked the problem on several fronts. He issued more than $414 million in bonds and treasury notes. In early July he went to Capitol Hill, where he assured Congress that since the war was certain to be over in a year, the $80 million that would derive from customs duties, sale of public lands, and such taxes as Congress might approve, plus $240 million in loans, would be sufficient to cover the government's expenses.20 A few weeks later, in August, Chase negotiated a loan from a consortium of New York, Philadelphia, and Boston banks -- $150 million in gold to be delivered to the treasury in three installments between August and mid-November 1861.21

The New York, Philadelphia, and Boston bankers assumed that they would be following the standard practice of opening a line of credit against which the government could draw funds as the need arose. Chase, however, insisted on receiving the three $50 million installments in gold coin, a demand that strained the resources of the banks, drained their gold reserves, and made the bankers very uneasy. If the public lost confidence in the North's ability to win the war, it would start hoarding gold coin and stop buying treasury notes. In other words, the gold the banks had lent to the federal government would not return through the usual method of payments, deposits, and investments, and the shortfall would place in jeopardy the ability of the banks to meet their obligations.22

The bankers' fears proved well founded. The autumn months brought the defeat of General Ulysses S. Grant at Belmont; Great Britain appeared poised to enter the war on the side of the South; and in his annual report, Chase conceded that, given the financial burdens placed upon the government, the treasury could expect a deficit of approximately $260 million. The public panicked, responding to the rash of bad news exactly as the bankers had said it would -- Northerners hoarded their gold coins as a hedge against political and economic disaster and stopped buying treasury notes.23

On December 28, 1861, representatives of the banks of New York met to discuss the looming financial crisis. Rather than deplete their gold reserves further, the New York bankers voted, twenty-five to fifteen, to suspend making payments to the treasury in gold coin. A few days later, the bankers in Philadelphia and Boston passed the same resolution. Once gold ceased flowing in from the banks, the treasury could no longer pay its bills with hard currency. With the gold supply drying up, the nation's powerbrokers in Washington began discussing what many perceived as their only option -- the authorization of a national paper currency.24

Such an alteration in the administration of the nation's finances would require an act of Congress. The legislators on Capitol Hill, recognizing that the country was on the verge of a serious economic crisis, acted with surprising speed. On February 24, 1862, the Legal Tender Act authorized the treasury to issue $150 million in paper currency, to be recognized throughout the country as legal tender. The next day President Abraham Lincoln signed the bill into law.25 It was a farsighted piece of legislation, but one element was missing -- Congress failed to charge any law enforcement agency with safeguarding the integrity of the new national currency.26 Any thought of counterfeiters appears to have been far from the minds of the congressmen. Like everyone else in Washington, they were anxious to see how the buying public would respond to paper money.

In April 1862 the New York Times announced that the paper currency had won "almost universal confidence" across the country. Three months later a jubilant and relieved Secretary Chase boasted, "Not a single requisition from any department upon the Treasury remained unanswered. Every audited and settled claim on the government and every quartermaster's check for supplies furnished which had reached the Treasury had been met."27

Like the rest of the American public, counterfeiters adjusted to the new national currency quickly. In fact, they preferred it to the old banknotes. A Philadelphia shopkeeper who would have studied a fifty-dollar banknote from the Planter's Bank of Tennessee would accept a U.S. fifty-dollar bill without a second thought. Even loyal sons and daughters of the Confederacy were eager to get hold of the new Yankee dollars, since their own government's paper currency was losing more of its value with each passing day. To meet the demand in Dixie, enterprising shovers carried bags of false currency down South, where no one was familiar enough with the new Yankee money to be able to distinguish between the real and the counterfeit.28

Nonetheless, it was in the North that counterfeit currency caused the most trouble. By 1864 approximately half the paper money in circulation in the North was counterfeit. And if the American lost faith in the value of the new paper money, the federal government would not be able to finance the war. With the economy teetering on the brink of disaster, Secretary of the Treasury Chase asked Secretary of War Edwin Stanton for a favor -- would he relieve William P. Wood of his duties as superintendent of the Old Capitol Prison, so that the Treasury Department could employ him in tracking down counterfeiters? 29

Wood was an interesting choice. A tall, square-jawed man, he was a hero of the Mexican-American War, in which he had distinguished himself through acts of daring that some celebrated as swashbuckling and others derided as half-mad. Once back in the United States, however, Wood had earned a reputation as a shady character. In 1854 Edwin Stanton was a member of a prestigious Washington legal team involved in an important patent-infringement case; Wood, who as a young man had been trained as a model-maker, was brought in as a consultant. Thanks to his expertise, Stanton's firm won the case. But it was whispered around town that Wood had doctored the evidence in Stanton's favor.

Wood's appointment as superintendent of the Old Capitol Prison at the start of the Civil War gave Washington gossips even more material. Some claimed he was spying for the South. Persistent rumors had it that Wood had exceeded his authority by negotiating prisoner-of-war exchanges with the Confederate government. And there were stories of Wood's sending counterfeit currency to Union prisoners of war, so that they could buy food, clothes, and other necessities from their clueless Confederate guards.30 That last rumor may have been true. What other reason could Chase have had to select Wood, a prison warden, as his point man for a new law enforcement agency, unless Wood already knew the world of counterfeiting intimately?

Technically, Chase and Stanton should have sought the approval of Congress, or endorsement from President Lincoln, before they created what was in essence a new government bureau. But counterfeiting had reached crisis proportions, and neither man had the patience at that moment to drag the new idea through the usual government channels. Instead, they just turned Wood loose. "I was permitted to use my own methods," Wood said later.31

Wood was not working alone. In 1864 he hired three men to assist him, all of them rough characters. He found his first recruit, Henry O. Wright, in a Chicago jail; the Chicago police suspected that Wright was involved in a counterfeiting ring. Virgil Barlow, another of Wood's early picks, had been making counterfeit money in New Jersey. Wood's third man, George Hyer, was under arrest for forgery and was suspected of murdering five men.32 Given the backgrounds of these recruits, it came as no surprise to anyone that they played fast and loose with accepted law enforcement procedures. One typical case was a February 1865 raid on a den of counterfeiters. While searching the premises, operative John Eagan, an ex-cop from St. Louis, found $14,500 in false currency and $600 in legal tender. The counterfeit $14,500 he turned over to his superiors, but the $600 in good money he kept for himself.33

Wood's men ran a variety of scams. They offered suspects immunity, even protection, in return for a fee. Sometimes they kept a portion of the counterfeit currency they confiscated, sold it to shovers, and pocketed the proceeds. A counterfeiter who had earned -- or bought -- the goodwill of Wood and his men could count on having at least one Secret Service operative show up in court to testify on the crook's behalf.34

Wood's unorthodox methods might have been scandalous but they were also effective. "In eight months," Wood bragged, "I rounded up counterfeiters in nearly every state east of the Alleghenies."35 And he was not exaggerating. Within a year of his appointment, Wood and his band of unlikely agents of the law had seized over two hundred counterfeiters and confiscated an enormous amount of counterfeit currency, as well as engravers' tools, plates, and other essential materials.36

Chase and Stanton's ad hoc agency became an official part of the United States government in July 1865. Hugh McCulloch, the man who replaced Salmon P. Chase as secretary of the treasury in Lincoln's second term, claimed to have discussed the counterfeiting problem with the president on April 14, 1865, just hours before the Lincolns left the White House for Ford's Theatre. McCulloch laid out the problems for the president -- the spate of fake money that was undermining the American public's confidence in the national currency and the ineffectual efforts of local and private law enforcement agencies to fight counterfeiters. McCulloch recommended the creation of a permanent, aggressive organization of government operatives trained to target counterfeiters. After hearing McCulloch out, Lincoln said, "Work it out your own way, Hugh. I believe you have the right idea." The assassination of the president and the arrest, trial, and execution of the conspirators occupied official Washington for the next three months, so it was not until July 5, 1865, that William P. Wood was sworn in as the first chief of the United States Secret Service. Almost immediately, Wood hired more men; by the end of 1865, he had thirty Secret Service operatives in the field.37

Wood and his men are often remembered today for their scams, but they were adept at persuading counterfeiters to turn on each other. On one occasion the operatives had captured a boodle carrier who went by the name of the Flying Dutchman. The Dutchman's territory included Indiana, Ohio, and parts of Pennsylvania. But he had a rival -- Lewis "Mysterious Bob" Roberts -- who made monthly road trips by mule through the Midwest, selling $50,000 in counterfeit currency each time to his distributors. As the Dutchman sat in jail, he resolved that if he was going to prison, he would take Mysterious Bob with him. Once Bob and the Dutchman were both in custody, however, the two rivals teamed up to cut a deal with the Secret Service: in exchange for a lesser charge, they agreed to reveal the identity of thirty fellow counterfeiters.38

Police and other law enforcement officers, not to mention the general public, regarded the methods employed by Wood and his crew as underhanded, even downright unethical. But there was no denying that by making up its own rules, the Secret Service had done serious damage to counterfeiting rings in the North. In 1869, when Wood was succeeded by Hiram C. Whitley, the new chief defended Wood's unorthodox methods. In an open letter to the American public Whitley wrote, "The system of using one counterfeiter against another has created greater distrust and caused more alarm among [counterfeiters], as a class, than the untiring labor of the most skilled detectives. It is impossible for them to guard against this kind of treachery." Adopting a mocking tone, Whitley wondered what the critics of the Secret Service would like his operatives to do. Should they treat counterfeiters as gentlemen, approaching them "in a differential [sic] manner, with hat in hand and with many apologies for the intrusion, announce themselves as detective officers and request the suspected criminal to furnish the evidence necessary to convict and send him to the State Prison"?39

Very quickly, Secret Service men became skilled undercover agents. Cincinnati in the late 1860s was a mecca for counterfeiters, and the hottest spot in town was the home of a shapely widow who went by the name of Mother Roberts. She had a reputation for selling counterfeit currency out of her house and taking her favorite clients to bed. An operative who passed himself off as a Missouri farmer and occasional shover insinuated himself into Mother Roberts's circle and eventually became one of her lovers. On a day when the widow and the "farmer" planned to combine business with pleasure, he showed up at Mother Roberts's house with some friends in tow. While the friends -- all of them Secret Service operatives in disguise -- made themselves comfortable, Mother Roberts invited the farmer up to her room, where she opened the front of her dress and began a seductive striptease. When she got to her bustle, she opened it, revealing an enormous stash of counterfeit money. Calling to his friends for help, the farmer seized Mother Roberts, while his fellow agents nabbed two other counterfeiters who happened to be in the house. Mother Roberts went to prison, and her counterfeiting ring was destroyed.40

Whitley may have defended the freewheeling methods of his predecessor, but when it came to recruiting new operatives, the new chief of the Secret Service was looking for a different caliber of person. Wood had had a penchant for jailbirds; Whitley preferred such solid, dependable men from the middle class as Thomas E. Lonergan. Intelligent and courageous, Lonergan had dropped out of Notre Dame, the little Catholic college he had been attending in South Bend, Indiana, to fight for the Union. Not long after he enlisted, Lonergan's superiors recognized his natural leadership abilities and sent him to West Point. Thomas Lonergan proved to be one of Whitley's finest recruits; in time he would serve as superintendent of a succession of the most important offices of the Secret Service, including Chicago and New York.41

One of the minor players among Midwest counterfeiters was James "Big Jim" Kennally. He had been born in Ireland in 1839; it is unknown when he emigrated to the United States. By the early 1860s he was in the counterfeiting business. His earliest arrest record dates to January 15, 1865, when he was picked up in St. Louis for dealing in and passing counterfeit currency.42 In April 1870 he was arrested in Peoria, Illinois, for having in his possession $102 in counterfeit bills. The court found him guilty and sentenced him to eighteen months at the Illinois State Penitentiary in Joliet.43

In the nineteenth century the Joliet prison authorities kept the Convict Register, in which they recorded a host of personal details about each convict, including physical traits, religion, profession, and place of birth. From the Convict Register we learn that Kennally stood nearly five feet, eleven inches tall. He had a fair complexion, light-colored hair, and gray eyes. He stated that his parents were dead and that he had no wife or children. He also said he had no religion. The admitting officer recorded that Kennally could read and write and that he drank. Under the column heading "Habits of Life" is the notation "Intemp.," an abbreviation that tells us Kennally was not abstemious with alcohol. He gave his profession as "Railroader."44 When the collector for the 1870 United States Census visited the Joliet penitentiary, he put Kennally down as a U.S. citizen.45

After serving his sentence in Joliet, Big Jim Kennally traveled to St. Louis, where he opened a livery stable that would become the front for his counterfeiting ring. By 1876 he was also a silent partner in a saloon and billiard hall called the Hub on Chicago's Near West Side.46 Although Kennally was a small-timer among counterfeiters, he had one extremely valuable asset -- Benjamin Boyd, one of the best engravers of counterfeit plates in the country, worked for him.

Benjamin Boyd had been born in Cincinnati, Ohio, in 1834. His father was a master engraver -- the honest kind -- and Boyd learned the rudiments of the art from him. Young Benjamin showed promise, so his father arranged for him to study for a year with James Edward Smith, one of Cincinnati's finest engravers. Although he was still a teenager, Boyd's skills were impressive -- so much so that he attracted the attention of yet another Cincinnati engraver, Nat Kinsey, who offered to teach Boyd his particular area of expertise. Kinsey had been born in Delaware in 1828, and his legitimate profession was engraving landscapes. William P. Wood, the first chief of the Secret Service, commented on Kinsey's "gentlemanly appearance." His one physical flaw was that he had lost all his upper teeth; he compensated by wearing a set of dentures.47 At what juncture Kinsey made the transition to counterfeiting is unknown, but he became one of the best. The high point of his career came in 1864, when he engraved the plate for a bogus hundred-dollar greenback that became a counterfeiting classic; it escaped detection for years.

Encouraged or at least inspired by Kinsey, Boyd cut his first counterfeit plate when he was only twenty-one years old.48 By then he had reached his full height -- five feet, nine and a half inches. He was a stout, round-shouldered young man with a dark complexion, dark gray eyes, and a head of hair that would turn prematurely gray. He did not drink, and he belonged to no church.49

At the same time that he apprenticed himself to Kinsey, Boyd met Pete McCartney, one of the best-connected counterfeiters in the Midwest. Nearly thirty years old at the time, McCartney was a strong, handsome man, just shy of six feet tall, with a charming personality. Even Secret Service operatives admired his "quiet, gentlemanly manners."50 McCartney, an itinerant scholar of the counterfeiting arts, traveled from one skilled engraver to the next, with an eye toward becoming a master engraver himself. He stayed for a time with Kinsey and Boyd in Cincinnati, then moved on to Indianapolis to continue his education under a German immigrant named Aikman, whose two daughters, Martha and Almiranda, were themselves promising novice counterfeiters. During McCartney's visit old Aikman died; but the widow Aikman did not mourn long. In less than a year she married John B. Trout, a much-admired Missouri counterfeiter. As for McCartney, he married the Aikmans' older girl, Martha.51

By now McCartney was engraving his own counterfeit plates and using Aikman and Trout's connections to distribute his false currency throughout the Midwest. Then he met a Prussian immigrant named Frederick Biebusch, the biggest distributor of counterfeit currency in the West and Southwest, who was famous among counterfeiters for having been arrested fifty times but never convicted.52 He had begun his criminal career as a horse (and mule) thief. Around the time he was achieving fame in counterfeiting circles, Wood described him as "a notorious villain ... open for the transaction of any species of rascality whereby he can make money illegitimately."53 Impressed by the quality of McCartney's counterfeit banknotes, Biebusch became one of his biggest clients, buying bundles of boodle, which he sold out West to his shovers -- most of whom were women and children. With Biebusch as an ally, McCartney moved into the big leagues of counterfeiting.54

Then came the break every American counterfeiter dreamed of. The federal government's decision in 1862 to issue a national currency gave engravers like M.cCartney, Boyd, and Kinsey, along with distributors like Biebusch and Kennally, an unprecedented opportunity to strike it rich. Boyd and McCartney decided to pool their talents and set up shop in Mattoon, Illinois -- and that is where Secret Service agents arrested them in 1865. It was [a] two-pronged operation. While Boyd and McCartney were being cuffed and hauled off to jail in Mattoon, another squad of operatives had staked out the Everett House, the Springfield, Illinois, hotel where Boyd and McCartney's boodle carriers, Edward Pierce and Almiranda Aikman, were staying. When the Secret Service burst into Aikman and Pierce's rooms, they found a basket stuffed with thirty thousand dollars in counterfeit bills.55

Pierce went to trial and was sentenced to prison, but Boyd managed to win his own release and that of Almiranda Aikman by cutting a deal -- in return for his and Almiranda's freedom, he agreed to turn over an engraved plate for printing counterfeit fifty-dollar bills. The confiscation of the plate was a coup for the Secret Service but no hardship for Boyd -- it was one of McCartney's plates that he gave up.

Boyd was smitten with Almiranda Aikman. In 1865 the petite, slender brunette was about twenty years old.56 Soon after their release, Benjamin and Almiranda were married in Marine City, Michigan. For the next ten years the couple stayed on the move, setting up shop in Des Moines and Le Claire, Iowa; Decatur, Clinton, and Fulton, Illinois; and Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. Boyd kept busy engraving plates and passing queer. His masterpiece from this period was a five-dollar bill so accurate that it fooled most experts. Boyd was not only a great engraver, he was also a successful businessman. Even John S. Dye, the celebrated counterfeit-detector, praised Boyd as "sagacious, wary and fortunate in his selection of partners."57

Since his brush with the Secret Service in 1865, Boyd had had no more trouble with the Feds. His brother-in-law, McCartney, was not so lucky, but Pete took it in stride. Experience had taught him how easy it was to break out of most local jails. In fact, he thought jailbreaks were fun. He claimed that escaping from the St. Louis jail was "as easy as falling off a log!" After dismissing the Springfield lockup as "a mighty poor structure," he went on to explain, ''It wasn't a comfortable place and I didn't like my quarters. So I stepped out early one morning and left."58 But jailbreaks were not McCartney's only means of escape from tight situations. Counterfeiting had made him a wealthy man, and experience had taught him that a bribe could make almost any Secret Service operative look the other way. Toward the end of his life he claimed, "I have paid away over $70,000 to escape the clutches of the law."59

As for Boyd, his luck ran out when he came to the attention of Elmer Washburn, onetime Chicago chief of police and, starting in 1874, the new chief of the Secret Service. Washburn had been born in 1834 in Plymouth County, Massachusetts. For a time he was division superintendent of the Illinois Central Railroad. After the Civil War he was warden of the Illinois State Penitentiary in Joliet. In an age when the term public servant was often a synonym for "crook," Washburn was a man of integrity. Once he sold some surplus state land attached to the prison, made a tidy profit on the deal, then faithfully deposited the entire amount in the prison treasury. When the reform candidate Joseph Medill took office as mayor of Chicago in 1872, he appointed honest Elmer Washburn chief of police. Unfortunately for Washburn, Mayor Medill was almost his sole admirer in Chicago.

Even before Washburn arrived in town, Chicago's police commissioners decided they didn't like him. They felt it was their right to name the chief of police. Not only had Mayor Medill usurped their authority, but he had not even bothered to ask for their opinion about Washburn. They found Washburn self-important, haughty, and bureaucratic. An eyewitness recorded that after Washburn moved into Chicago police headquarters, "there was no longer any interchange of opinion between the chief and his captains. He would listen to no suggestions, simply waving his subordinates off." When Washburn wanted to communicate with the department, he issued a memo. And because he enjoyed issuing written orders to his officers, Chicago police headquarters was adrift in a blizzard of paper. "Written orders were a weakness with him," the same witness recalled. "A question which might have been answered by a nod of the head, was replied to with ponderous verbosity and a bombardment of officialisms over the length and breadth of a sheet of legal cap."60

Having alienated his police force, Washburn went on to antagonize almost the entire city. Medill tried to put into effect an old law decreeing that Chicago's saloons and beer gardens must remain closed on Sunday. Other mayors had tried to enforce the statute, always with disastrous results -- particularly in 1855, when Irish and German workingmen and -women had rioted in the streets until the taverns were reopened.61 Washburn, inflexible as ever, tried to enforce Medill's Sunday closing proclamation. This time the citizens of Chicago expressed their outrage at the polls. In the 1873 election, Medill was tossed out of city hall, and Washburn lost his job as chief of police.62

Washburn's unemployment was short-lived, however. His exacting standards, his unshakable integrity, and his experience running a big-city police department were qualities that recommended him to Bluford Wilson, the attorney who had been charged with reorganizing the Secret Service. He offered Washburn the job of chief of the Secret Service, with the understanding that he would reform and revitalize the organization. For Wilson, improved relations between the Secret Service and local law enforcement would be the cornerstone of the revitalized agency. The first two chiefs of the Secret Service had been dismissive, even contemptuous, of the police and U.S. deputy marshals. Wilson believed that rather than provoke the local law enforcement officers, it would be more productive if Secret Service operatives solicited their help.63

Then Washburn had an inspiration -- the Secret Service really ought to be secretive. In a general order dated October 31, 1874, Washburn instructed all operatives to keep their names and their crime-busting activities out of the newspapers and to let the police take the spotlight instead. It was a brilliant idea that generated immense goodwill among local police officers, who became the heroes of every case. As for the Secret Service operatives, by keeping their names and activities secret, they could be even more effective in the struggle against counterfeiters. 64

Washburn differed from his predecessors in another respect. Wood and Whitley had been hands-on Secret Service chiefs, often going out on cases with their operatives and collaring criminals personally. Washburn, by contrast, remained at his desk at the agency's new headquarters in Washington, D.C. It was just as well -- Washburn always had been better at formulating policy than at working with people one-on-one. In fact, during his administration, Washburn introduced valuable new methods and regulations that improved the performance and enhanced the reputation of the Secret Service. He spelled out clearly what he expected. Operatives would "be judged by the character they sustain, by the results they accomplish and by the manner in which they accomplish them." With this single sentence Washburn intended to sweep away both the corrupt methods that had been common practice under William Wood and the pragmatic philosophy of Hiram Whitley, in whose view the ends justified the means. Washburn's operatives would be honest enforcers of the law.

But Washburn did more than hold his men to a lofty ideal; he demanded documentation of everything they were doing. And for once, at least, Washburn's love affair with paperwork produced a result other than clutter. He required his operatives to file written reports of their day-to-day activities. If they went undercover and bought counterfeit currency, they must say who sold it to them, where the transaction took place, how much bad money they bought, and how much they paid for it. Operatives who had informants on their payroll had to report each informant's name and address, how much the informant was being paid, and all related expenses.65 The Secret Service files from this period show that Washburn's new procedures were put into practice immediately. And one of the most methodical operatives was a new Secret Service agent, Patrick D. Tyrrell.

Tyrrell was the kind of recruit Washburn looked for --honest, respectable, incorruptible. Not only was he a good detective, but he had a high tolerance for filing reports and filling out forms. Tyrrell was a handsome, beefy, broad-shouldered man with a high forehead, a prominent nose, and a cleft chin. He had been born in 1831 in Dublin, Ireland.66 He lived with his wife and children in Chicago, in a handsome house at 867 North Clark Street, right at the corner of Centre (now Armitage) Street. From their front porch the Tyrrells enjoyed a beautiful view of the new park and the vast blue expanse of Lake Michigan beyond. But the area around North Clark and Centre Streets had not always been so pleasant.67

Before the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 this had been a shabby neighborhood. By the lakeshore had stood a poorhouse, and nearby had been an unkempt graveyard. The Great Fire burned the area clean, and in the rebuilding of Chicago the neighborhood experienced a new incarnation. The scruffy old burial ground was transformed into the lovely lakefront Lincoln Park. Attractive cottages and frame houses were built on the ashes of the old shacks and hovels. And as for the area's new residents -- the Tyrrells and their neighbors -- they were ambitious, hardworking Irish and German families, proud of what they had accomplished so far and relieved to have left the slums behind them.68

Unlike so many Irish immigrants in Chicago, Patrick Tyrrell had moved rapidly into the middle class. Now Washburn was giving him a career-making opportunity. If Tyrrell nabbed Boyd, he would be a hero, and so, by association, would Washburn. The chief's instructions were simple: Tyrrell had free rein to use whatever methods he believed would result in Benjamin Boyd's arrest and conviction.

_______________

Notes:

I. The World of the Counterfeiters

1. Lynn Glaser, Counterfeiting in America: The History of an American Way to Wealth (Philadelphia: Clarkson N. Potter, 1960), 11.

2. Ibid., 12.

3. Ibid., 12, 13, 16, 18.

4. Kenneth Scott, Counterfeiting in Colonial America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1957), 7.

5. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 15, 36.

6. Ibid., 19.

7. Ibid., 22.

8. Scott, Counterfeiting in Colonial America, 242.

9. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 37-39.

10. Ibid., 40-41.

11. Ibid., 47.

12. Ibid., 66.

13. Ibid., 82.

14. George P. Burnham, Three Years with Counterfeiters, Smugglers and Boodle Carriers, with Accurate Portraits of Prominent Members of the Detective Force in the Secret Service (Boston: J. P. Dale, 1875), 418-422.

15. David Johnson, Illegal Tender: Counterfeiting and the Secret Service in Nineteenth-Century America (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1995), 43, 46.

16. Ibid., 12, 39.

17. Bray Hammond, Sovereignty and an Empty Purse: Banks and Politics in the Civil War (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1970), 134.

18. Robert P. Sharkey, Money, Class, and Party: An Economic Study of Civil War and Reconstruction (Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995), 18.

19. Hammond, Sovereignty and an Empty Purse, 125-126.

20. Sharkey, Money, Class, and Party, 18-19.

21. Irwin Unger, The Greenback Era: A Social and Political History of American Finance, 1865-1879 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1964), 14.

22. Sharkey, Money, Class, and Party, 22-23.

23. Unger, The Greenback Era, 14.

24. Wesley Clair Mitchell, A History of the Greenbacks, with Special Reference to the Economic Consequences of Their Issue: 1862-65 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1903), 40, 44.

25. Sharkey, Money, Class, and Party, 46.

26. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 66.

27. Hammond, Sovereignty and an Empty Purse, 245-246.

28. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 103.

29. Ibid., 105.

30. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 70.

31. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 105-106.

32. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 76.

33. General Register of the Secret Service: Description and information of Criminals, 1863-1906, National Archives, College Park, Md., vol. 1, 441.

34. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 77.

35. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 106.

36. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 76.

37. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 106-107.

3S, Ibid., 108.

39. Ibid., 108-109.

40. Ibid., 110-111.

41. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 79-80.

42. General Register of the Secret Service, vol. I, 28.

43. Peoria Transcript, April 9, 1870.

44. Convict Register, State Penitentiary, Joliet, Illinois, May 7, 1870.

45 . United States Census 1870, Joliet, Will County, Illinois, 35.

46. Chicago City Directory, 1876.

47. General Register of the Secret Service, vol. 1, 20, 75.

48. John Carroll Power, History of the Attempt to Steal the Body of Abraham Lincoln (Late President of the United States of America) including a History of the Lincoln Guard of Honor, with Eight Years Lincoln Memorial Services (Springfield, Ill.: H.W. Rooker, 1890), 29.

49. General Register of the Secret Service, vol. 10, 331-333; Convict Register, February 16, 1876.

50. Burnham, Three Years with Counterfeiters, 45.

51. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 133.

52. Burnham, Three Years with Counterfeiters, 63-64.

53. General Register of the Secret Service, vol. I , 92.

54. Burnham, Three Years with Counterfeiters, 68.

55. Power, History of the Attempt, 30.

56. General Register of the Secret Service, vol. 10, 334.

57. Power, History of the Attempt, 31.

58. Burnham, Three Years with Counterfeiters, 47-48.

59. Glaser, Counterfeiting in America, 135.

60. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 88.

61. Herbert Asbury, The Gangs of Chicago: An Informal History of the Chicago Underworld (New York: Knopf, 1940),43.

62. Johnson, Illegal Tender, 88.

63. Ibid., 87.

64. Ibid., 89.

65. Ibid., 94.

66. State of Illinois Department of Public Health -- Division of Vital Statistics, Standard Certificate of Death, Registration No. 13237, April 3, 1920.

67. E. Robinson and Roger H. Pidgeon, Robinson's Atlas of the City of Chicago, Illinois: Compiled and Published from Official Records, Private Plans, and Actual Surveys (New York: Robinson, 1886).

68. Chicago Fact Book Consortium, Local Community Fact Book: Chicago Metropolitan Area (Chicago: University of Illinois at Chicago, n.d.), 18.