Do you speak Rumauntsch? Raffaella attends an unusual summer school . . .

Quista sted eau d’he passo duas eivnas en Engiadina per un cuors da Rumauntsch. Oh, no, s-chüsa, sorry: this summer I spent a couple of weeks in Engadin (Switzerland) for a course of the local idiom, Rumauntsch Puter. Rumauntsch is a romance language spoken in the Kanton Graubünden, in the most eastern part of Switzerland. Although it is spoken by less than 1% of the whole population of Switzerland, it has the status of national language, along with German, French and Italian.

I discovered Rumantsch during my holidays in the region in the past few years, and I started listening to the local radio, Radio Rumantsch ( With an intense radio-listening training, I gradually started to understand the mechanisms of the language and I got more and more passionate about it. Meanwhile, during my studies in Italy, I took a couple of modules on romance philology and this exacerbated my enthusiasm for this minority and neglected language.

I then decided that it was time to take a proper course and discover a bit more about this language, and perhaps start to speak it. So, I enrolled for the course organized in Samedan by the Fundaziun Chesa Planta ( I didn’t know what to expect and I feared that most of the students might be much older than me and that everybody spoke only German (or worse, Schwitzerdutsch!). Luckily, I was wrong. I found a very dynamic and familiar environment and I was assigned to a class with a lot of young people. We had fun learning together the grammar rules and beginning to form more and more complex sentences with our own words (pleds, in Rumauntsch). But we didn’t focus just on grammar, because there were also some interesting activities such as the chaunt comünavel (a 20 minute daily singing session) and, twice a week, a short talk given by someone working with the Rumauntsch language and culture (see below). Moreover, two afternoons a week we had a baderleda (an informal chat in a café) with the organizer, Martina Shuler-Fluor, and we discussed (in Rumauntsch, of course) different topics that were of common interest. Two excursions, to the Museum Engiadinais in San Murezzan ( and a spassegeda poetica (poetic walk) in Zuoz, completed the offer.

Alongside all these activities, I went trekking with üna gruppa d’amihs (a group of friends) I met at the course, and we spoke adüna (always) Rumauntsch, strengthening our speaking abilities day by day and having fun making and correcting our own mistakes or looking up the dictionary for a quick check.

But why learn Rumauntsch? First of all, I love useless, disregarded, dying or dead languages, and I firmly believe that it’s great to discover minor languages that still transmit a culture which is different from what we are used to. Moreover, Rumauntsch sounds beautiful and may also be funny for someone who already knows other widely-spoken romance languages such as French or Italian. Its sounds are one of the greatest things of this language: with a lot of palatal sounds such as tsch, ch, sch, dsch, it reaches peaks of sweetness (and complexity to pronounce!) that other romance languages simply don’t have. Also, its vocabulary is incredible, and very interesting for someone passionate about Latin and/or modern romance languages. Rumauntsch has preserved many Latin roots that in other languages have disappeared, changed sense or are confined to a formal or archaic discourse. This example might be enough: book is cudesch, which come from the Latin codex. Code, codice, código mean nowadays something else, while French, Italian and Spanish languages have continued liber with libro and livre. Again, ‘to choose’ is tschernere, and ‘choice’ tscherna, from the Latin cernere.

As it is clear from this brief description, this course didn’t have much to do with my current PhD project. However, I found a link between Rumauntsch, London and manuscripts while I was in Samedan. Thanks to the conference held by Michele Badilatti, I discovered that the first person to conduct research on Rumauntsch in a proto-scientific way was Joseph Planta, whose father was from Engadin. Joseph Planta studied in Utrecht and Göttingen, before moving to England following his father, who was assistant librarian at the British Museum. At the death of his father, in 1773, Joseph Planta he took up his father’s job, before being promoted to keeper of the manuscripts and, in 1799, principal librarian. He studied and restored important manuscripts such as the only one containing the text of Beowulf (Cotton MS Vitellius A XV) and produced a catalogue of the Cotton collection of manuscripts. In his research (perscrutaziun in Rumantsch, another word I love!), he tried to demonstrate that Rumantsch was not a barbaric language, a mixture of all the neighbour idioms, but the most ancient and thus best of all the romance languages. Of course, these conclusions and the exaltation of a language as “ancient” or “beautiful” don’t fit with a modern approach to comparative linguistics, but it is interesting that a man of Rhaetian origins (as his burial inscription underlines), connected with the most vibrant intellectual culture of the time, was the first to attempt a proto-scientific description of such a “barbaric” language.

A day in the life: visiting a local archive

The majority of our manuscripts are now contained in very large collections – at the British Library, the Bodleian Library in Oxford,  the Cambridge University Library, the Portland Collection at Nottingham, the Brotherton Collection in Leeds and the manuscripts held in the John Rylands library in Manchester. These are all large collections which have over the centuries acquired sets of manuscripts from many different sources.

But today I thought it would be interesting to say a bit about what it’s like from a research point of view to visit a smaller collection. In the past year  we have visited local archives and record offices in, among others, Chester, Brighton, Woking, Stafford, Northampton, Hertford, Chelmsford, Aylesbury, Derby, Manchester, Leeds, Winchester, Taunton and Warwick as well as the National Archives (at Kew) and collections in Durham, the Society of Antiquaries in London and the Royal Society (also in London). One of the fascinating things about this project is how we are finding some examples of neo-Latin verse in almost every collection with significant material from the sixteenth or seventeenth century.

In February, for instance, I went to the Surrey History Centre in Woking.

Continue reading “A day in the life: visiting a local archive”

Oddities 1: An English Tarantula in an 18th century manuscript at Chetham’s Library

Here Raffaella starts an occasional series of posts on some of the “oddities” we have found:

Our project is specifically concerned with Latin poems in manuscripts dating from between the second half of the 16th century and the first decade of the 18th century. However, we often find materials that are out of our scope because they are too early or too late for us – and sometimes these items are curious or funny in some way. This is the first post of a series that aims at pointing out some oddities we found so far.

In March, Bianca and I visited the Chetham’s Library in Manchester as we knew that it held some relevant materials for our research. We found and analysed a few manuscripts containing several poems each, some of which written by well-known British Latin authors such as William Alabaster.

However, the largest collection of Neo-Latin poetry we found was all composed in the late 18th century, and therefore out of scope for the project. Although too late for our purposes, we decided to have a look anyway at the miscellany contained in the six volumes catalogued as Mun. A. 4.8-13.

I came across some peculiar verse compositions, such a long hexametric poem on Wales, entitled Cambria, or another hexametric poem on the Globus aerostaticus, which testifies the interest in the scientific and technological discoveries – a field that produced many Latin poems in the 18th and 19th century both in England and abroad.

However, the most intriguing finding is undoubtedly the Tarantula, a poem about the Apulian tarantella and the related ‘tarantism’. This was a tradition deeply rooted in the ancient Apulian folklore and now remaining as a cultural heritage with music and dances.

I never expected to find a piece on a such local southern-Italian dimension in an English manuscript: I was so surprised! I was sure that after a research I could have traced down the history of this poem, and discover how it arrived from an Apulian 18th poet to the Chetham’s manuscript. I quickly identified this Tarantula, however, to have been composed by an English poet, a certain Lyne. The text was published in a Florentine edition in 1765, alongside the popular mock-epic poem Muscipula by the English poet Edward Holdsworth (which had already been published in England in 1709). This text can easily be accessed via Google Books (however, this version slightly differs from the one in the manuscript):

The Tarantula poem is structured as a description of the local and seasonal context of the phaenomenon, the alleged effects of the tarantula’s bite and its remedies. The description/narration is interlaced with some didactic hints and admonitions to a reader or viator, as he is mentioned in v. 7. At the beginning of the poem, an introduction is followed by a warning to the reader: ‘Incautum ne te nova vulnera cogant | exercere choros, cantusque haurire salubres’ (vv. 16-17: ‘don’t be imprudent, make sure that fresh wounds don’t force you to perform dances or absorb the sound of healing chants’). We then find the description of the effects of the bite of the spider, including nervous breakdowns, hallucinations, difficulties in speaking (‘quaerulo nunc murmure lingua | fracta gemit’, vv. 28-29), laugh (‘nunc effuso sonat alta cachinno’, v. 29) and torpidity. Doctors have troubles in curing this morbum and, in addition, a healing song good for a young unmarried woman (the most affected category) may not be effective on an old man. The healing sing and dance ceremony is so dynamic and uncontrolled that the author claims: ‘Dementes credas sacra orgia ducere Baccho | Moenadas’ (‘you might think that this demented people are Menades dancing a sacred Dionysian dance’, v. 49), taking the readers back to an ancient Greek tradition.

The conclusion is somehow intriguing and may have multiple explanations. The author states that the tarantula has touched the British land as well (‘tandem etiam nostros insana tarantula fines | attigit, inque tuos manans, Brittannia, fines’, vv. 74-5) – but a different type of disease (‘contagia morbi’, v. 76) is involved in this final and perhaps satirical section. There seems to be some topical and probably political force to the poet’s suggestion that any who wish to sing effeminate songs (‘femineos cantus’, v. 84), and try Bacchic dances or play the cithara, should at once leave England for Apulia: ‘ite procul molles […] | ite per arva | Appula, per campos, baccataque rura Choreis’ (vv. 80-82). Since I have not been able to determine the date of composition of this English Tarantula poem, it is impossible to be sure who, exactly, these final lines are aimed at. But any suggestions from readers would be very welcome!

Introductory post: undergraduate volunteer Astrid Khoo

Astrid Khoo is a second year undergraduate student in Classics. Here she explains how she came to Latin and why she is keen to volunteer to help with the project during part of the summer vacation:

I learned no Latin until I was sixteen. As a child, enraptured by the sound and the fury of literature, I instead studied the languages of Mann, Zola, and Dostoyevsky. Latin was a fantasy tongue, belonging only to Asterix, the Pope, and lawyers.

In retrospect, however, a love for Latin has always lurked in my imagination. When I was five, I invented the game ‘Antony and Cleopatra’. To play Cleopatra I wrapped a towel around my waist; to play Antony I threw the same towel over my right shoulder, toga-style. More worrying, perhaps, were my pretensions to Latin teaching. In primary school I taught a friend Catullus 16, the favourite poem of all beginner students. Though well aware of the fact that I could not read Latin, I considered it a mere technicality. In any case, we never made it past the first line as we considered Pedicabo ego vos… extraordinarily amusing.

At sixteen, driven by some unknown furor, in the double sense of ‘madness’ and ‘inspiration’, I wrote to a Latin tutor and asked him to teach me all that he knew. We began with the Gesta Romanorum (‘Deeds of the Romans’) and Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum (‘Gallic Wars’). From the beginning, therefore, I was trained to read non-Classical Latin. Nevertheless, even when I had gotten into the habit of reading and writing Latin regularly – my compositions can be found on my blog Latine Scribo – I never imagined that I would study Latin at university, let alone choose Classics as a career path.

In fact, I started off as a History student upon arriving at King’s. Hungry for Latin practice, however, I audited Dr. Daniel Hadas’ postgraduate module on Medieval Latin. I greatly enjoyed this course, as it involved collating manuscript variants and working with untranslated texts. On the advice of Dr. Hadas I began attending the Neo-Latin reading group, led by Dr. Victoria Moul, who also kindly allowed me to audit her module on Neo-Latin Poetry. At the same time, I began collecting Latin books, for which I won two prizes in 2017. Courses in palaeography and codicology fuelled my interest for the early modern period, that brave new world teeming with incunabula.

Through these activities I discovered neo-Latin, which I consider to be ‘new’ both chronologically and stylistically. It is undoubtedly funny, as evident from Bohuslav Hasištejnský z Lobkovic’s witty guide to Prague. I also love the subversiveness of neo-Latin, as exemplified by Nicholas Chorier’s pornographic Satyra Sotadica. Furthermore, the range and diversity of neo-Latin excites me; I am currently working on the ‘Brazilian Georgics’ of José Rodrigues de Melo. Most of all, however, neo-Latin derives its appeal from its colour and audacity. Milton’s Defensio pro Populo Anglicano (‘Defence of the English People’, last term’s text for the neo-Latin reading group) is no mere reception of Cicero, but rather a reinvigoration. Milton does not add fuel to the fire, but rather fire to the fuel: his prose explodes out of the page.

Therefore, when I heard that Dr. Victoria Moul had successfully applied for Leverhulme funding for her research project on post-medieval Latin poetry in early modern English manuscripts, I simply had to get involved. I wanted to learn more about neo-Latin poetry; I wanted to touch it, transcribe it, and think about it outside the classroom. My palaeographical training pushed me towards manuscript material and especially early modern scripts. I was curious about metre, to which I had been introduced by the Latin metre reading group. Most of all, however, I wished to experience working as part of a project group with highly skilled team members, from whom I expect to learn very much indeed.



King’s College London Medieval/Renaissance Latin Play 2018 – George Ruggle’s “Ignoramus”

This post reproduces the programme notes on the literary context to Ignoramus which Victoria wrote for the performance of the play at KCL in March:

Latin school and university plays were a typical element of secondary and tertiary education throughout the early modern period: Montaigne, for instance, acted in George Buchanan’s Latin tragedies while his pupil at the Collège de Guyenne in the 1540s. A large number of such plays are extant in manuscript sources, and many others are known to have been put on, although the texts do not survive; relatively few however were published in print and of these even fewer had anything like a ‘popular’ success. George Ruggle’s (1575-1622) Ignoramus, by contrast, was a major hit: first performed in 1615 at Cambridge for the entertainment of the visiting King James I, it was performed repeatedly well into the 18th century, reprinted multiple times (11 editions between 1630 and 1787) and also translated into English at least three times in the latter part of the seventeenth century.

The enormous and enduring popularity of the play is particularly evident in surviving manuscript material: excerpts, especially the prologues and songs from the play, appear in many commonplace books and miscellanies, and bespoke prologues – written to accompany later performances, with up-to-date contemporary jokes – are extant from as late as 1763. Unfortunately, there is no modern print edition, though an online text, translation and brief notes can be found at

Ruggle’s sprawling work – apparently running in its original performance to over five hours – satirises the character and (especially) the poor Latin of ‘Ignoramus’, the college recorder: that is, a common lawyer in a town of scholars. As such, it belongs broadly to the enduringly popular genre of legal satire – a kind of Better Call Saul for the early seventeenth century. (More closely contemporary examples include Donne’s Satires of the 1590s and the Trebatius scenes in Jonson’s Poetaster (1601).) The specifically dramatic tradition to which it belongs is that of Plautus’ Pseudolus (itself a popular school play), though Ignoramus is based most directly upon an Italian version of Plautus’ play (Giambattista Della Porta’s La Trappolaria). Tonight’s performance has been significantly cut to a running time of only around 40 minutes, but this too is traditional – several of the extant manuscript sources suggest that the play was regularly abridged in performance.

The most distinctive feature of the play is its linguistic inventiveness: Ignoramus’ hodge-podge of half-baked Latin, English and French is still very funny. In the sixteenth and seventeenth century, ‘macaronic’ verse – that is, verse in a mixture of two or more languages – had strong satirical overtones. The frequent use of rhyming Latin verse in the songs is also associated, in this period, with satirical or humourous material. Though barely known even to scholars today, the popular Latin literary “hits” of the early seventeenth century almost all included similar elements to those found in Ruggle’s play: John Barclay’s Latin novel, Argenis (1621), for instance, has multiple romantic sub-plots and includes Latin songs which were widely excerpted; William Drummond’s (1585-1649) mock-epic Polemo-Middiana (‘The Battle of the Dunghill’) is macaronic to very similar comic effect to Ignoramus; and the enormously popular Barnabae Itinerarium (‘Drunken Barnaby’s Journey’) by Richard Braithwaite (1588-1673) is a long comic poem about the hapless exploits of the eponymous Barnaby, composed in rhyming Latin verse with a parallel English version. Ignoramus is therefore typical of a lively, albeit now forgotten, culture of popular neo-Latin literature.


Data so far: some numbers

We are now nearing the end of the ‘survey’ phase of the project. We have visited all the major collections and, of the smaller local collections, we have visited what we hope is a representative selection. This is not aiming to be a complete survey of neo-Latin verse in English manuscript holdings of the period: such an undertaking would take many years in its own right, since so many of the existing catalogues and indexes do not itemise Latin verse. The project is aiming to have made a ‘representative’ survey of this material. No such survey has been attempted before and we hope that future scholarship will be able to build on this foundation.

So how many poems have we found?

We have found about 15,000 neo-Latin poems in about 1000 individual manuscripts in thirty libraries or archives. Here ‘poems’ range from single lines of verse to a handful of hexameter poems which are hundreds of pages long. We have not counted Latin drama, even where it is in verse, though we have included excerpted Latin songs from plays and some marginal cases of apparently ‘dramatic poems’.

We have found so far 40 manuscripts with 100 or more neo-Latin poems in (this number will probably increase slightly as we are still working on the full descriptions of some of the richest sources), with one manuscript containing 712 individual Latin epigrams! At the other extreme 311 manuscripts contain just one neo-Latin poem (some of these will be one very long poem), and we have looked at about 250 manuscripts which proved to contain no material relevant to our survey (for instance, no Latin verse at all, or Latin verse which is either entirely classical, medieval or neo-Latin verse certainly dating from after the early 18th century). We are still working on the descriptions of around 50 particularly rich or complex manuscripts, and we have a handful of archive visits still to go.

What form are these poems?

The most common metre is elegiac couplets, and the most common form or genre is (almost certainly) the epigram – we can’t be completely sure of this yet as we have not yet assigned all the items we’ve found a generic category. But some manuscripts contain hundreds of individual epigrams, especially in the period between about 1610 and 1630 when these were particularly fashionable (the manuscript with over 700 poems is an epigram collection). Equally, in many of the instances where we found only a single Latin poem in a manuscript, the poem in question was an epigram. Hexameters are the second most common metrical form throughout most of our period, though in the earliest manuscripts (of the mid-16th century) they are in fact significantly more common than elegiacs, the trend for which seems to be a latter-16th century innovation, probably influenced by the rising fashion for the briefest kind of epigrams, which tend to be in elegiacs. In the latest material (from the early 18th century) Latin lyrics are found more commonly than hexameter verse, and displace hexameter as the second most frequent type of poem. Of course if we were counting numbers of lines rather than individual poems, the data would look different, since nearly all of the very long poems we have found are in hexameters.


A significant proportion of these sources are bilingual to varying degrees and I personally am particularly interested in the relationship between Latin and English literature throughout this period: it’s not just that many of our manuscripts include both Latin and English verse (though this is certainly true) – it’s also that a significant proportion of what we have found is as it were ‘actively’ bilingual – most commonly, paired poems in Latin and English versions but also including other related phenomena (such as a response or answer poem in another language, and translations into and out of Latin into other languages, most commonly Ancient Greek, Hebrew, French, Dutch and Italian).

In short, this is a very large and extremely varied corpus. In the course of this project we shall of course only be able to transcribe a small proportion of these poems (though we are hoping to be able to put together a first-line index for a relatively large proportion of them), and translate, annotate and analyse in detail only a still smaller fraction. But since there has been no previous scholarly attempt even to get an overview of this material, a significant aim of our project is precisely to offer such an overview, trying for the first time to give some sense of the ‘big picture’: the overall role of the reading, writing and circulation of post-medieval Latin verse in early modern England.

Raffaella’s first research trip outside London

This blog was suspended over the period of the UCU industrial action; but we are now pleased to return with a post Raffaella wrote a few weeks ago about her first trip to a local archive outside London. She writes:

Last week I did my first manuscript trip outside London. I was very excited about visiting a new archive after my first month and a half spent at the British Library. I went to the East Sussex Record Office, situated on the edge of Brighton, where we knew there were around ten manuscripts useful for our research.

I was surprised at the variety of documents I had in my hands through the day: family account notebooks, a diary, some commonplace books containing orations and classical quotations, a couple of parish registers and some loose sheets as well. All these materials contained some Neo-Latin verse in different percentages, but all of them proved very interesting. It is always curious to see that people scribbled a Latin epigram in the middle of some annotations of their expenses, or an epitaph on someone’s death in the parish register that normally contains only the list of births and burials. I reckon that this aspect is much more visible when visiting a local archive rather than a big library such as the BL. In smaller archives or libraries, of course, there are fewer Latin documents, so in just one day you can read also the ones that normally you would consider less important.

However, I had to go very quickly through all the items I had to examine, because the third or fourth I required (you can only have one per time on your table) proved extremely full of Neo-Latin poetry. Except for a few letters written in Latin prose, almost all the 250 pages of the manuscript FRE/690 contain poems, that were written by various authors including Alexander Gill, Charles Blake and many fellows of St. John’s College Oxford in the 17th century. It was exciting to discover that many pieces were quite long (up to nearly 30 pages of hexameters in one case!) and that there were many different themes in the various poems: celebrations for sovereigns, religious matters, poems for weddings and philosophical poems as well.

This trip has been a very useful experience to me for several reasons. I’ve learnt that when you’re visiting a new archive you must be well prepared for what you expect to find, but also flexible and ready to adapt as what’s there is never quite what you envisaged.  Once at the archives, it’s important to optimise your time.  I found more interesting things than we expected and I couldn’t analyse all the material while at the archive, so I decided to take pictures first and defer some of the descriptions, on which I worked in the following days looking at images. Finally, it was great to taste the local dimension of Latin poetry that can be found in an account book or in a parish register, and it was lovely as well to work for one day in a smaller archive where people usually do researches on local history or family genealogy and more rarely on literature (not to mention Neo-Latin!).

Latin metre group – a guest post by Jill Woodberry

Today we have a guest post from Jill Woodberry, a PhD student at King’s who helps to organise a Latin metre reading group at KCL. Jill writes:

The idea for the metre group was conceived after one of Victoria’s neo-Latin reading group sessions, when a few of us found ourselves bemoaning that, though we might manage to translate a Latin poem, we had little idea how its rhythms should sound. We decided to meet regularly to try to get to grips with Latin metre, and count ourselves very fortunate that Caroline Spearing agreed to ‘lead’ us in a regular reading group. The meetings were made possible through the sterling work of Lucy Jackson in dealing with the complexities of KCL room bookings and general admin.

As a foundational practice we concentrated on hexameter. At first we would take one line each, and painstakingly work out the scansion mathematically before reading it out loud in turn. Gradually however we became more adept at speaking unprepared lines as we grew more familiar with the rhythmic patterns of the hexameter. We looked at Virgil, Catullus and Ovid, and noted in particular stylistic differences in their use of elision. We then moved on to elegiac couplets and Catullan hendecasyllables.

Towards the end of the semester, Lois Potter, as expert on early-modern drama, gave us a fascinating talk on the shifting use of metre in Shakespearean drama. At the end of the session we read the ‘echo’ scene from Webster’s Duchess of Malfi, noting the comparison with Ovid’s treatment of the echoing voice in the story of Echo and Narcissus which we had read some weeks earlier.

This semester we have moved on to the very different lyric metres, reading poems by Horace as well as some by Cowley and Sarbiewski (the latter in part to coincide with the neo-Latin reading group). We began with Alcaics, followed by Sapphics. Though our sessions are largely practical, sometimes an element of the theoretical enters in; a vexed issue for us from the conceptual/technical standpoint, is how far it is relevant to consider these lyric metres in terms of smaller units of ‘feet’, as is possible with hexameter and pentameter, or whether each line should be considered a ‘colon’ in its own right. The fact that authorities seem to differ in the way they divide lines suggests that there is no definite rule. We are just beginning to look at Asclepiads, and here, arguably, we do return to an idea of the basic unit of the choriamb as a kind of ‘foot’.

The continuing success of our group is due in part to the enthusiasm of members for hearing spoken Latin poetry, and in part to its interdisciplinary nature, with our very varied interests, expertise and scholarly backgrounds resulting in stimulating and illuminating comment and discussion.

Later, when the survey stage of the Leverhulme project is complete, we look forward to a talk by Victoria on the wide variety of metres that have been discovered in early modern texts.

Finally, this semester we have timed our sessions to align with the main neo-Latin reading group, i.e. 2-3pm on Mondays, and if anyone would like to join us they are very welcome (room is S2.38). Contact details are:;;



About the project: types of manuscript 1 – presentation manuscripts

In the survey phase of our project we are trying to get a sense of the range of types of neo-Latin poetry in English manuscript sources which survive from the early modern period (c. 1550-1700) and the sorts of context in which they are found. In practice, this means that we are looking at a huge range of types of manuscript: throughout this period you find neo-Latin poetry in all sorts of source, from large and beautiful, sometimes illustrated, scribal presentation manuscripts to the most personal and ephemeral material – sometimes literally scraps of paper on which someone has scrawled an epigram. In this series of posts I want to give a sense of the range of this material, starting today with presentation manuscripts. I am very grateful to the British Library ( for giving permission for us to use images of their collection to illustrate what we are doing.

Presentation volumes of Latin verse were often offered as gifts to noblemen, the monarch or visiting dignitaries. Some of these collections are the gift of an individual; many of them are presented by an institution (such as a school or college) and represent the work of many individuals, who are often (though not always) named.

BL Royal MS Royal 12 A VII, f9r

This first image is of BL Royal MS Royal 12 A VII, f9r (this means the ‘recto’ or ‘right side’ of the ninth folio). This is the beginning of an interesting pastoral poem commemorating the death of Henry VIII and the accession of Edward VI. Henry VIII died in 1547 so this is technically just outside the boundaries of our survey, and is therefore one of the oldest precisely datable manuscripts that we have included. This particular volume is by a fairly well-known poet, the Frenchman Nicolas Denisot. Not many of the works we are studying are by authors with their own wikipedia entry, but Denisot has one in both English and French:

Continue reading “About the project: types of manuscript 1 – presentation manuscripts”

Meet the team – Raffaella

Raffaella Colombo is the newest member of our research team and the second PhD student funded by the project. Here is what she has to say about what her first few weeks have been like:

I’m the newest entry in the team. I joined Victoria, Bianca and Sharon at the beginning of January to work on the project as a PhD student. Before coming to London, I studied in Pavia (Italy) and I was a fellow student of Collegio Ghislieri ( ). I got my BA in Classics and then a MA in Modern Philology, thus combining two of my greatest academic interests, Latin literature and its reception in Italian modern and contemporary culture. So, as well as the other team members, I have an interdisciplinary background and I’m passionate about many different aspects of Classical Latin and Neo-Latin culture, including didactic poetry, animal studies and meta-poetical discourse. I studied Neo-Latin poetry for the first time while working on my MA dissertation on Giovanni Pascoli’s Latin poetry (late 19th century) and I’m now discovering a completely new world, working with the English manuscripts from the early-modern period.

My first weeks in London were full of things to do to settle down in a big city and start a new life. However, I got used to the rhythms quite quickly and I started working enthusiastically at the British Library, helping to complete the survey stage of the project. At the moment, my main job is to tidy up the descriptions of the manuscripts that Victoria, Bianca and Sharon examined in the first few months, but I’m also looking at some new manuscripts and working on their descriptions from the beginning. What I really enjoy is that I discover something new every day! And it’s incredible how many things I’ve learnt in only a month in terms of handling manuscripts, palaeography, literary culture and metrics. One of the biggest challenges I’ve been facing since my very first day is, in fact, the identification of the metrical schemes in which the poems we found are written. We are surprised, as a team, at the metrical variety we’ve been finding: not only “common” hexameters, elegiacs and hendecasyllables, but also pythiambics and archilocheans, alcaics and iambics and apparently original Neo-Latin creations for which we have had to invent some terms of our own!

In the following months I’ll be involved in some of the team’s outreach projects and I’ll travel outside London to visit local archives and libraries where we expect to find more Neo-Latin verse. I will also spend some time in determining more precisely the topic of my PhD dissertation, as at the moment I have only a few general ideas.