Archive | Uncategorized RSS feed for this section
After completing their transcript of all 315+ pages of Folger MS V.a.345, the Superscripts traveled to the source.
They saw and touched the book that they had come to know well.
They got to see several other manuscripts too.
Thank you, Rachel Dankert and Heather Wolfe, for welcoming us to the Folger; Mike Poston for souping up Dromio on our last day of transcribing; Kelsey Capiello, Greg Patterson, and Margret Schluer for purchasing the train tickets; and Nathaniel Russell for generously granting us permission to use his song as our anthem for paleography. Ad fontes!
At VCU’s first two transcribathons, participants worked on a wide range of manuscripts without necessarily expecting to complete any of them. VCU’s third transcribathon was different. The Superscripts, VCU’s student organization for paleography, had been transcribing Folger MS V.a.345 for about a year and wanted to complete it at the event. That goal introduced several changes to the format. For one, it gave us a reason to prioritize page spreads that we had not yet transcribed, followed by openings that we had transcribed only once or twice. Participants therefore claimed their pages by selecting a slip of paper bearing the page numbers. Page spreads that had not yet been transcribed were marked in red.
Meghan Kern and Thomas Nelson hold down the Superscripts’ organizational table. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Gabriella Santiago chooses her next page opening. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Uncompleted page spreads. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Recipes were marked in yellow, Latin in blue. Whenever a participant finished transcribing a page opening, she would place it in a cup at the Superscripts’ table and ring the bell. And the crowd would applaud.
Success, full success. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Kate Given and Kate McCallister transcribe. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Cameron Washington, Michelle Mead, and Gabriela Santana transcribe. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Gabriela Santana and Joshua Eckhardt talk transcribing. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Mid-day, the Folger’s curator of manuscripts, Dr. Heather Wolfe, joined us by Zoom video from her office in Washington D.C.—to show us the original.
Dr. Heather Wolfe, Curator of Manuscripts at the Folger Shakespeare Library, shows the original source to the group. Rachel Rivenbark and Mackenzie Kincaid keep transcribing. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Meta. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Can you see how big this is? Heather Wolfe points out features of the original. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
The modern binding, everybody. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Dr. Kevin Farley, Humanities Collections Librarian for VCU Libraries, addresses the group, after doing much to host the event. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Gregory Kimbrell, Events and Programs Coordinator at VCU Libraries, keeps things running after arranging for the room, computers, and catering. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Multilingual Friend of VCU Libraries Dennis Andersen transcribes alone. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Meghan Kern cuts the cake as Ashley Harden, Chris Alimenti, Jane Harwell, and Gabriela Santana look on. Photo credit: Joe Mahoney. Courtesy of VCU Libraries.
Immense thanks to the Folger Shakespeare Library, especially Dr. Heather Wolfe, Curator of Manuscripts, and Mike Poston, Database Applications Associate; VCU Libraries, especially Dr. Kevin Farley, Humanities Collections Librarian, and Gregory Kimbrell, Events and Programs Coordinator; the photographer, Joe Mahoney; the English Department, in particular Margret Vopel Schluer, Business and Human Resources Manager; everyone who pitched in; the students in all four of the English courses that worked on this project; and especially the Superscripts, who worked weekly on it. We finally did it.
123 VCU students
5 community members
1 faculty member
1 remarkable student organization
4 upper-division classes
161 page openings with writing
445 complete transcripts thereof!
In the fall of 2017, a Shakespeare class started spending one hour a week transcribing Folger MS V.a.345, in order to see what poems there accompany Shakespeare’s second sonnet. The following semester, a class on documentary and critical editing transcribed the poems in the manuscript that had shown up in critical editions. Two other classes resumed the project the next fall. One of them, an introduction to bibliography for Master’s students, transcribed the manuscript’s copy of John Earle’s “CHARACTERS.” The other, a large survey of early modern literature, worked much more broadly thoughout the book.
Over these three semesters, the Superscripts became an official student organization. The Superscripts started devoting weekly meetings to transcribing the manuscript. And they thought that they could finish the task at a transcribathon. VCU Libraries hosted the event, providing laptops, food, and drink. The English Department offered funds for guests from off campus. And the Folger Shakespeare Library provided the images and the online transcription tool. In the final hours before the event, Mike Poston, digital guru of the Folger, added a crucial upgrade to the transcription tool: a IIIF viewer, which made the images of the manuscript much easier to read. During the event, Heather Wolfe, Curator of Mansucripts at the Folger, showed off the original document by video.
Photo credit: Hannah Kilgore
At the end of the event’s scheduled time, the Superscripts were still a few images short of a complete transcript. A few of them relocated to a cramped, glassed-wall room on a quiet floor of the library, and kept working. Before long, they could finally say that VCU had transcribed every word of the book at least once (and in most cases, twice, thrice, or more).
Next month, the top transcribers travel to the Folger to see for themselves the original document that they have come to know so well.
As Dylan Ruediger’s new editions of the book show, Edward Waterhouse ended his narrative of the Virginia colony and the 1622 Powhatan assault by appealing to his fellow citizen’s “purses” or “persons.” He implored “euery good Patriot” to consider carefully “how deeply the presecution of this noble Enterprise concerneth” the king, the nation, the economy, and even “the propagation of Christian Religion” (despite the fact that he had just endorsed a violent colonial policy that left no room for any more missionary work). Any good patriot could help. Some could help with their “purses” and some with their “persons”; some by investing, in other words, and some by going personally to Virginia as settlers. Some could help with their “fauour” and “some with their counsell”; that is, some by approving the effort, and others by advising the company. You can find this passage and its complicated context by downloading the photo facsimile here, and searching in your PDF reader for “purses.”
Our first prints revealed a lot of mistakes. We found them by each taking a proof sheet and correcting it in three stages. First, students looked for errors on their own. Next, they referred to the Donne Variorum’s digital images of the first printed edition to learn the editor’s and compositors’ house style, making corrections according to that. Finally, they reread the poems in the Variorum’s images of Houghton Library MS Eng. 966.5, also called H6 by the Variorum editors as well as the O’Flahertie manuscript. And they decided whether they wanted to add any of this manuscript’s readings to the type that was already standing on the press bed. In the proof sheet shown below, one student used three different colors of ink to show these three rounds of correction.
Before using any of the Donne Variorum’s online editions, this student noticed the upside-down comma at the end of line 3 of Holy Sonnet VIII on p. 37. She also spotted the misspelling of the word “Sypmle” in the same poem. Below that, in sonnet IX, she found the made-up words “bwell” and “pierceq,” both caused by the common problem of confusing the type pieces for b, d, p, and q. After consulting the 1633 edition, she noticed that we needed a catch word on the bottom of the page, as well as spaces between the type pieces of “VIII” (we would need to turn each I right-side-up too; that’s why they appear to have sunk). Finally, after looking at H6, she found a question mark to move, some commas to remove, and an important word change, “thee” to “Hee.” Of course, the poem should countenance the possibility, however remote, that Christ’s tongue could “adiudge thee” to hell, not “adiudge Hee” to hell. The student who had originally set the type must have thought the first two letters of the word “thee” in C2 below were a majuscule H (Cambridge University Library MS Add. 5778, fol. 14v; the unpublished image generously provided by the Donne Variorum editors).
It’s an understandable mistake for someone new to such manuscripts. But the student compositor had also set the line to read “adiudge Hee onto hell.” The manuscript above, C2, clearly reads “to.” Where did the student get the longer preposition? It must have come from the other manuscript source that we initially used in class, DT1 (Trinity College Dublin MS 877, Part 1, p. 249; again, the image generously provided by the Donne Variorum). But here too our compositor made a mistake.
To someone new to early modern handwriting, the roundness of the preposition’s first letter might make it look like “onto.” But to anyone with much experience it reads “vnto.” So our sources gave us two sensible options: “adiudge thee to hell” and “adiudge thee vnto hell.” And we came up with the nonsensical phrase, “adiudge Hee onto hell.” At least we didn’t print too many before proofing and correcting. On the proof sheet above, the mistaken preposition did not get corrected. But another student marked both of these errors below.
Together, the corrected proofs gave us a good chance to eventually print something a little more normative, something like “can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell.” More importantly, they also helped the students attend carefully to textual details, using both old and mew media in tandem.
Before we could reenact the process of first printing some of Donne’s poems, we needed to reenact the process of copying the first printers’ most likely manuscript sources. So the class divided into groups. We called one group the Cambridge group, or “the Coote group of Bow Street, Covent Garden”—so named for the earliest recorded owner of Cambridge University Library MS Add. 5778 (manuscript C2, according to the Donne Variorum sigla). Like the original printers, the VCU students tended to rely on the text derived from this manuscript when they were typesetting. But neither relied on it entirely. Both occasionally took a word or something from a second text (before taking more from a third, introduced late in the process). No exact match for this second source survives. But one of the artifacts that matches it most closely is Trinity College, Dublin MS 877, Part I (DT1). Here’s a peek at the work of one student in the Dublin group, or “the apprentices of the Puckerings’ scribe”—since this part of the Trinity College Dublin manuscript seems to have been written in the same hand responsible for a manuscript once owned by members of a family by the name of Puckering (Trinity College, Cambridge MS R. 3. 12 (CT1)). So here’s one page spread from a VCU student’s replica of DT1, in Dublin:
This may look impressive (pun intended), but it can’t immediately look as impressive as it is. First, the students in the Dublin group fabricated their manuscript using information from both Mark Bland’s published comments about the book and correspondence with Estelle Gittins at Trinity College, Dublin—in addition to the images available on the Donne Variorum website. You can see printouts from donnevariorum.tamu.edu on the left hand side of the image above. So you’re seeing here a partly digital means of reproducing analog media. More impressive is that the student whose work is shown here made her own ink, using both imported Aleppo oak gall and one of the early-modern recipes available here (the one beginning, “Take a quart of strong wine”).
This student also foraged the goose quills in nearby Byrd Park, named for the 17-18th-century British-Virginian planter and slaver, William Byrd II. She then cleaned, hardened, and cut the quills herself before writing with them.
As if this weren’t enough, she had to write left-handed, making it very difficult, and time consuming, not to smudge the ink as the writing hand trails the written word.
British Virginia is a series of scholarly editions of documents touching on the colony. These original sources range from the 17th-century literature of English colonization to 19th-century slave narratives and beyond. British Virginia editions appear principally in digital form, freely downloadable. The editorial offices sit appropriately at the research university nearest both the falls of the James River, and the site of the first English college planned for this side of the Atlantic Ocean, Henricus Colledge.
Original logo design: Bri Spicer