Magistra Nicolaa de Bracton
The project
In 1999, I completed my PhD thesis--a critical edition
of a 13th century Dominican basic theology text by Simon de Hinton known from
its incipit (first words) as Ad
instructionem iuniorem (For the Instruction of juniors) It is thought that this text was originally
used by Dominicans looking to obtain their license to preach. The contents focus on practical theology
regarding the Credo, the Lord's Prayer, the Sacraments, the Beatitudes, the
Virtues, the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and the Vices. The manuscript had a remarkably long life,
circulating until into the 16th century and even being printed (in a somewhat
mutated version) in the early 18th century.
There are 56 extant manuscripts, and during its life the text seemed to
have evolved away from a text with a specific purpose to a more general one as
sort of a quick guide to practical theology. Later copies become increasingly
ideosyncratic. My PhD work focused on creating a critical edition--in this
case, an attempt to establish what the original most likely looked like--based
on four of the thirty manuscripts I viewed.
When one completes one's PhD work, a bound copy is
prepared for the archives of the university granting the degree. It was in ordering this copy that I first had
the idea: I had, essentially, produced
the 57th copy of this work. Wouldn't it
be wonderful to produce that copy in a truly medieval manner--copied by hand,
as a 13th century scholar or stationer might have done?
It took me sixteen years to realize this dream. I have been practicing calligraphy for about
20 years. Utilitarian works, such as
charters, have always been a favourite, and having studied Latin palaeography,
I had been always eager to use the abbreviations I learned to read as part of
my research. The Midrealm's Calf to
Codex project was my inspiration (I contributed a small piece to this work, and
in doing so saw the amazing things being done).
The proposal that was accepted was to copy the Ad instructionem iuniorem by hand. The bulk of the work would be done using
modern substitutes for period materials -- pergamenata, Windsor and Newton
India ink, and metal Brause nibs.
However, the opening gathering would then be recopied onto manuscript
vellum using hand cut quills and oak gall ink (both made by me). The original plan was that the book would be
bound with a limp binding.
I completed the copying of the text in May, 2016 and
was now ready for binding.
Binding the book
It was now
mid-May, and I had several months left to complete the project. I had arranged an exchange with Mistress
Lucrece to provide her some calligraphed pages on vellum for her to use as
spine supports in her own bookbinding project, and in exchange she had offered
to help me prepare book boards for my own project. This had led me away from
the idea of limp binding towards hard binding.
Since I had only ever done one bookbinding project (and it was part of a
"quick and easy" workshop, not a full-fledged project), I figured I
would keep it simple and just use a "period-esque" binding. Mistress Tarian gave me a day-long
bookbinding tutorial and sent me away with a copy of JA Szirmai's Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding. This being a 13th century book, the proper
binding style would actually be Romanesque.
Soon I found myself going down the rabbit hole of doing the type of
binding that was actually correct for my book for my first full-scale
bookbinding project. (Project managers refer to this as "scope
creep.")
Book
boards
Szirmai's
book indicated the correct thickness for Romanesque book boards was 7-17 mm,
with the most common being 10 and 12 mm[1].
Oak was by far the most common wood used
in Romanesque bookbinding. Maitresse
Lucrece helped me plane a quarter-sawn oak board down to 10 mm.
I also
determined that tunnels should be cut in the book boards to about 15 mm out
from the spine for the cords, which would then emerge and run another few
centimetres before being pegged.[2]
End tapes were done over thinner cords, which were tunneled into back-sawn
corners, which according to Szirmai were a “distinctive feature” of Romanesque
bookbinding.[3] Oak being hard and my experience with
woodworking being nonexistent, I used a Dremel tool to cut the channels and a
drill to cut the holes.
The book
block
The paper
used for all but the first gathering is Fabriano Pergamon in the 230 g/m2
weight (the heaviest weight). The first
gathering is genuine vellum obtained from the Guild of Limners. In all cases the paper/vellum was cut down
from larger pieces. The size of the book
was dictated by the size of the large pieces of genuine vellum, as all four
sheets were cut from the original large sheet.
Sewing the
book
Szirmai
indicates that the sewing frame likely made its appearance during the Romanesque
period, as it first appears in a 12th century illumination.[4]
My sewing frame is not unlike the one depicted in that illumination.
Per
Szirmai, the Romanesque style “invariably used thongs of white-tawed leather”
as sewing supports; these were up to 5 mm thick, 8-20 mm wide, and split down
the middle. [5]
Lucrece was able to give me some alum-tawed cords for the sewing supports that
fit these parameters, which I then cut down the middle.
I chose to
use four sewing stations for my book, which according to Szirmai is found in
21.7% of books from this period.[6]
Sewing the
book was done with thread from hand processed and handspun linen acquired from
THL Anne of Saffron Walden. The thread
was very lightly waxed. Sewing holes were done using an awl.[7] The aforementioned alum cords, split in the
spine area, were attached using herringbone stitch[8].
End tapes were done using silk thread over a thinner cord, attached to each
gathering.
The book on the sewing frame.
The book in the book press after
sewing. The two oak book boards have
been backsawn and await their tunnels for the cords.
Once the
sewing was complete, the book block was laced into the boards, pegged, and
glued (using a modern glue). The glue
was really just a precaution--the pegging and the lacing held the boards quite
firmly. I also glued a thin sueded
leather--Szirmai indicates a chamois-type leather was often used for this
purpose for Romanesque bindings[9]--onto
the spine as a support.
Lacing in the book boards
The book opened to show the lacing
into the spine and along the channels.
Trimming
the pages was a challenge, as the vegetable parchment paper proved very
difficult to cut in a block. I ended up
completing the trimming using small scissors. In retrospect, examining the
photos included in Szirmai, it is quite possible and even probable that book
blocks during this period were not actually trimmed, and so the relatively
uneven pages of my book are likely more typical of books of this period.
The final
step was to cover the book with leather. Extant Romanesque books are generally
bound in tan or brown leather, but Szirmai provides evidence of bindings done
in different coloured leathers, including a 1369 inventory of the papal library
in Avignon that indicates the use of other colours, including 28% in red
leather.[10]
I very definitely wanted my book to be bound in red leather. The leather I
purchased was too thick for my purposes, so I shaved it down with a sharp blade
(and eventually, a Dremel tool. The
leather was then attached using wheat paste.
The final
step was to paste down the endpieces, where (as expected) I did encounter
cockling with the vegetable parchment. Szirmai indicates that the endpieces
were usually pasted down after binding in Romaneque-style books.[11] I used a single set of folded pages for both
front and back endpieces, which Szirmai indicates was more common in the 13th
century.[12]
The final
piece accomplishes the goal of producing a book that feels in keeping with the
manuscripts I examined over 20 years ago.
It makes a worthy 57th manuscript copy of this work, and I can finally
say I have a bound copy of my thesis text.
Lessons
learned
A few
lessons learned during this project include:
I selected
the heaviest grade of vegetable parchment for this project. While this is by far the preferred grade for
single-sheet scrolls, for a book I would have been better served to use the thinnest
grade possible. The heaviness of the paper made it difficult to get the folded
gatherings to lay flat, even after time in the bookpress to flatten them. This also led to some looseness in the binding
itself, which is particularly prominent at the front and back of the book due
to the single-sheet endpieces. However, the use oak bookboards helped
counteract the thickness at the spine.
In
retrospect, as mentioned above, I would not have attempted to trim the pages
once they were initially cut.
I made one
error in cutting the leather binding, slicing too deeply to wrap the leather
around the spine area. This was purely
due to inexperience in binding books.
The finished book
Opening the book
[1]
Szirmai, The Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding, p. 151-2
[2]
This is lacing path “b” as documented by Szirmai, p. 153
[3]
Szirmai, p. 152
[4] Szirmai,
pp140-1
[5]
Szirmai, p. 147
[6] Szirmai
,p.144. More sewing supports seem to be
a trend in the 13th century.
[7]
Szirmai, p. 143 indicates this is typical for English manuscirpts.
[8]
Per Szirmai, about 2/3 of Romanesque bindings examined used the herringbone
stitch. p. 148
[9]
Szirmai, p. 157
[10]
Szirmai, p. 162
[11] Szirmai,
p. 146.
[12]
My endpieces follow Szirmai’s figure d, p. 147
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