Venetie, 15th C.

Virtually nothing is known about the early life of Jacopo de’ Barbari. He may have been born as early as 1450 or as late as 1470, probably in Venice but possibly in Nuremburg. He may have studied under the Italian painter Alvise Vivarini, or maybe not. The first thing we know for certain is that he met Albrecht Dürer during Dürer’s Wanderjahre in 1495.

Not much more is known about Anton Kolb. He was a merchant from Nuremburg who ended up in Venice as a member of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi (Guild of German Merchants), where, according to later records, he was trying to sell Latin copies of Schedel’s Weltchronik.

Sometime around 1497 Kolb approached Barbari with a proposal to prepare a large-scale bird’s-eye view of Venice. The result – the Venetie M.D. or Pianta di Venezia or Plan of Venice – simply had no precedent in the history of cartography or printmaking. It was also, somewhat suprisingly, Barbari’s first attributed work.

Kolb never stated exactly how Barbari composed the view, but as Juergen Schultz points out in his classic analysis, it must have been prepared from dozens, perhaps hundreds of bell tower sightings:

“... Jacapo’s view is neither a giant landscape drawing made in the field, nor a carefully compiled, foreshortened plan, it can only be a studio fabrication. It must have been assembled mosaic-fashion at the drawing table from a myriad of small view details made from heights throughout the city.” ²

The final plan, which took Barbari at least two years to complete, shows the city from a vantage point somewhere above San Giorgio Maggiore. It sweeps outward and upward in a great curve to the horizon – a perspective that was designed to be best viewed horizontally, perhaps unrolled across a great table.

Every step in the map’s production was unprecedented. Kolb obtained six of the largest (as large as 684 × 1000 mm) fine-grained woodblocks ever prepared. Barbari traced his plan on them and they were then cut by master engravers in Venice or Nuremburg. The final printing required six sheets of specially commissioned paper twice the size of an imperial folio, then the largest sheets produced by any Venetian paper maker. The result was a monstrous 1.3 × 2.8 m (or nearly 13 ft²) map. Kolb’s capital outlay for the project must have been enormous.

Kolb stated that he was issuing his map “principally for the fama (glory) of this illustrious city of Venice” and in Oct 1500 he appealed to the Venetian government for a copyright as well as the right to recoup his costs by selling the print for the shocking price of three ducats.³ The Collegio must have known the nature of the map well in advance; although it wasn’t cartographically rigorous by modern standards, it was still accurate enough to aid an invading army. Perhaps out of civic pride – after all the city was at the height of it’s imperial power – they gave him a four-year copyright and a tax-free export license:

College. Notatorio, register 15, c. 28r. 30 Oct 1500.

Although Barberi played fast-and-loose with cartographic conventions like perspective and scale he, nevertheless, included an amount of detail that would literally take years of close reading to fully appreciate. He included several hundred place names, several thousand buildings and, as one commenter wrote, tens of thousands of windows and chimney pots. As the major sea power of the day he, of course, included every imaginable type of Venetian ship – from the ever-present gondolas to the Doge’s 1462 Bucintoro. He even went so far as to include – perhaps as a cautionary tale – the former Senate Secretary Antonio Landi, hanging by his neck in Canal de San Secondo. It was a stunning achievement and the largest woodblock image for more than a century.

Detail, St. Mark’s Square

Detail, Rialto Bridge

Close detail, Santa Maria dei Frari Monastary

Close detail, Ghetto Nuvo (the Jewish Ghetto)

Detail, Murano

By the time the plan was offered for sale in the autumn of 1500 Barbari had already moved to Nuremburg to work as a portrait painter and miniaturist for Emperor Maximillian I. In 1503 he was reported in Wittenburg working for the Great Duke Frederick of Saxony. In 1504 he again met Dürer where they apparently discussed drawing human proportion. By Mar of 1510 he was in the employ of Archduchess Margaret in Brussels. In Jan 1511 he became ill and in Mar of the same year, the Archduchess gave him a pension for life on account of his age and weakness. He died sometime around 1516.

The plan was reprinted, with minor corrections and updates in 1514 (the example presented here) and again in the late 16th century.

Detail, NE wind putti. The bearded figure may be Barbari’s self-portrait

1. Unless otherwise noted, all the images here are from the ca.1514 second-state copy at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas at Austin (online).

2. Schulz, Juergen. Jacopo de’ Barbari’s View of Venice: Map Making, City Views, and Moralized Geography before the Year 1500. The Art Bulletin. 1978 Sep; 60(3): 425–474 (Jstor). For another analysis see: Howard, Deborah. Venice as a Dolphin: Further Investigations into Jacopo de’ Barbari’s View. Artibus et Historiae. 1997 18(35): 101–111 (Jstor).

3. The orignal woodblocks (as well as three of the first-state maps) are now in the collection of the Museo Correr. They were last used to print sheets of the plan in the 1830s.

Daniel Defoe inspiration (18th C)

Where did Robinson Crusoe come from? How did Defoe—who held a number of interesting professions, including a trader, writer, and spy—harness the elements of the story and mold them into this classic English novel? Theories abound on the origins of the novel and the source material Defoe had at his disposal. Even today, nearly 300 years after its initial publication, academics and scholars still quibble over the search for the real Robinson Crusoe and the story behind the story.  
 

Theory #1: Alexander Selkirk

A Scottish sailor and notorious hothead, Alexander Selkirk’s story was long-held to be the inspiration for Defoe’s Crusoe. Selkirk worked as a naval officer aboard the Cinque Ports under Captain Thomas Stradling. In September 1704 after expressing doubts about the ship's seaworthiness, Selkirk was marooned on the Juan Fernandez Islands off the coast of Chile. Selkirk lived on the desert island before being rescued in 1709 and receiving a hero’s welcome upon his return home. Word of his story spread throughout Europe, particularly in England, Defoe’s home turf.
 

Selkirk reading his Bible in one of two huts that he built on a mountainside

Some scholars argue the timeline of Selkirk’s story would not allow it to be the inspiration for Robinson Crusoe, which was published in 1719 and completed a good amount of time prior. But others argue Selkirk’s exploits had a direct impact on Crusoe and choices Defoe made in composing the story.

The rescued Selkirk, seated at right, being taken aboard Duke.

Theory #2: Ibn Tufail’s Hayy ibn Yaqdhan

A tongue-twister though it may be, Hayy ibn Yaqdhan was a 12th Century philosophical novel by Ibn Tufail, an Arabic writer, philosopher, physician, and court official. Loosely translated as Philosophus Autodidactus, the novel explores the themes and ideas of a feral child raised by animals on a desert island. Initially conceived as something of a thought-experiment, the novel is concerned with what happens to human beings in the absence of other human beings, and how curiosity and the pursuit of answers and truth are innate human qualities.

As with the Selkirk theory, some scholars argue the central conceit of Tufail’s text was an important influence on Defoe’s novel, while others contend it’s the themes and ideas of Tufail’s work that Defoe took as a source of inspiration.

Theory #3: Robert Knox

Its direct influence on Crusoe notwithstanding, the story of English sea captain Robert Knox and his nearly two decades-long tenure on an island near what is today Sri Lanka is one of the most compelling true-life action-adventures stories ever. Knox set sail for Persia on behalf of the British East India Company in January 1658, but his ship was severely damaged during a storm about one year later, and he and his crew were taken captive and held for 19 years by the inhabitants of the Island of Ceylon. Though held in relatively livable conditions—Knox and his crew were given jobs and responsibilities in the village in exchange for lodging, food, and other provisions—Knox finally escaped and fled to a nearby island controlled by the Dutch before being returned home to England.

Accounts of his time on Ceylon were published in a 1681 book called An Historical Relation of the Island Ceylon, (link to the book provided, thanks to archive.org) a text that featured detailed illustrations and descriptions of the island and its inhabitants and which served as the only recorded information about the island during that age. Until recently, the story of Knox, his captivity, and eventual escape was thought to be the most direct influence on the story of Crusoe.

Theory #4: Henry Pitman

Stemming from intensive research and investigation as detailed in the 2002 Tim Severin book Seeking Robinson Crusoe, a growing number of literary scholars and historians now believe Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe was written in response to the story of Henry Pitman, a former surgeon to the Duke of Monmouth, who was stranded on a desert island in the Caribbean following a shipwreck. Upon his escape from the island and return home, Pitman’s story was published by English publisher J. Taylor of Paternoster Street—Taylor’s son would later publish Defoe’s masterwork, Robinson Crusoe.

In addition, Severin’s research uncovered Pitman lived in an apartment above Taylor’s publishing house, which Severin argues is fertile ground for a meeting between Pitman and Defoe. While word of Pitman’s exploits did circulate through England, Severin contends several face-to-face meetings between Pitman and Defoe may have taken place in which Pitman may have recounted his story to Defoe, who then interwove bits and pieces of Pitman’s experience into his own narrative.

Curia Filipica (Spaniard text as origin of US Commercial laws), 17th C

for Yale University experts/jurists/alumns: Juan de Hevia Bolaños WAS the author of this relevant treatise for US :: no questions about this

Curia filipica by the Asturian Juan de Hevia Bolaños was for over two centuries the essential handbook for legal procedure in Spain and in its New World colonies. Since its first printing in Lima, Peru, in 1603, the Curia filipica (and)  enjoyed an extraordinary success, appearing in 40 different editions, until its final publication in Paris, 1864. 

Editions of the Curia filipica were present in virtually any collection of law books in Spain’s colonies. It was owned and consulted not only by lawyers and judges, but also by a wide range of local officials with legal responsibilities, including city officials, garrison commanders, priests, and merchants. It was one of the first law books present in modern-day Texas, listed in the 1800 will of a military chaplain in San Antonio, then a Spanish frontier outpost. It is cited in over a dozen early cases in Louisiana, Texas, and the U.S. Supreme Court, as an authoritative source on Spanish procedure.

The “second part” is another work by Hevia Bolaños that was originally published separately, Labyrintho de comercio terrestre y naval, which was for decades the only available work in print on Spanish commercial law. Begining in 1644 it was published as the second part of the Curia filipica.

Juan de Hevia Bolaños was born in Oviedo, Spain around 1570, and came to the New World in 1594, spending several years working as court official in Quito before moving to Lima. 

The Curia filipica - a Spaniard text- is an indispensible source for study of the early legal history of the U.S.

Contents and printing license for part 1 of Juan de Hevia Bolaños, Curia filipica, primera y segunda parte (Madrid, 1700).

The Gift of King Charles III of Spain...

... (to James Harris, later First Earl of Malmesbury)

Juan de Iriarte y Cisneros (1702-1771) was able to complete only one substantial volume of his bibliography of Greek manuscripts in the Spanish Royal Library in Madrid. When curator Bruce Swann decided to transfer the Classics Library’s copy of Regiae bibliothecae Matritensis codices Graeci mss. (Madrid, 1769) to the Rare Book & Manuscript Library, he noticed a Latin inscription on the fly-leaf (see image below).

Translated, the inscription reads:

James Harris
Salisbury, 1771
My son gave this scholarly catalogue of manuscripts to me as a gift upon his return following an absence of three years abroad. Moreover, Charles III, the Catholic king, a noted promoter and patron of the arts and literature, gave it to him while he was employed at the embassy in Madrid in 1771.

James Harris (1709-1780) was an important English scholar and politician, the author of a number of works on grammar, music and criticism, copies of which may be found in the Rare Book & Manuscript Library. He was a great acquaintance of Georg Frideric Handel, many of whose operatic manuscripts he came to possess. In 1760 he was elected member of parliament for Christchurch, Hampshire, he later served as a commissioner of the Admiralty and of the Treasury, and from 1774 was the secretary of Queen Charlotte.

                  

One of the younger Harris’s first postings was in Spain, where he was instrumental in averting a war over the Falkland Islands, and where he received this book as a gift from King Charles III. Young Harris recorded the following impressions of the Spanish monarch:

“He has a most clear head, comprehends with great alacrity, and answers with unparalleled accuracy. His heart, also, is excellent; the best of fathers and of masters, and although despotic, yet never a tyrant. … Such are his good qualities; his faults are, a false idea of the glory and power of his monarchy; a temper, when once irritated, irreconcileable; a bland submission to whatever happens, which, whether it is to himself or others, he calls the will of Providence; and such a determined attachment to his favourite amusement, the chace [i.e., hunting], as to make him slothful and negligent in his more important avocations” (Diaries and correspondence of James Harris, first Earl of Malmesbury. London, 1844, I, 50-51)

The younger Harris could be sure his father would be interested in this sumptuous catalog of Greek manuscripts. While in Spain, he also helped further his father’s researches in other ways:

“It having often been asserted, that an entire and complete copy of Livy was extant in the Escurial library, I requested my son in the year 1771, (he being at that timeminister plenipotentiary to the court of Madrid,) to inquire for me, what manuscripts of that author were there to be found” (The works of James Harris, Esq. London, 1841, p. 544).

Regiae bibliothecae Matritensis codices Graeci mss. (Q.A.481.75 M26r) may now be consulted in the Rare Book & Manuscript Library.

First use of π as 3,14... (18th C)

 

Humans have long known that a special relationship exists between the diameter and circumference of a circle. As early as 2000 BCE, some had even found numbers to represent this relationship. By this date, the Babylonians knew that the circumference of a circle was always approximately 3 1/8 times larger than its diameter, while the Egyptians put the value at 4(8/9)2

Hindu astronomy books known as the Siddhantas tell us that by 380 CE the Hindus had arrived at 3 177/1250, or 3.1416, as a constant value for the circumference/diameter ratio, and in the fifth century CE Chinese mathematicians determined that the constant must be greater than 3.1415926 and less than 3.1415927. 

The Mayas likely also knew of this ratio, and, given their sophisticated methods of calculation, had probably determined its value with a high degree of accuracy. However, it may be impossible to know for certain, as Diego de Landa, Bishop of Yucatan, burned most of the Mayas’ written records in the 1560s, believing that they were filled with “‘superstition and lies of the devil’.

Although knowledge of the constant ratio between a circle’s circumference and its diameter—the ratio we now call “pi”—is ancient, the use of the Greek letter “π” to represent it is not. Use of the π symbol is usually dated to William Jones’ work Synopsis Palmariorum Matheseos: or, a New Introduction to the Mathematics, published in 1706 and shown above (direct link to the book in that amazing resource called archive.org)

After spending some time in the Royal Navy as the mathematics master on a man-of-war, Jones worked as an itinerant teacher and then private tutor in London, and later edited and published editions of several of Isaac Newton’s works. His Synopsis Palmariorum Matheseos consists of two major sections, the first dealing with “Numeral and Literal Arithmetick” and the second with the “Principles of Geometry.” 

Jones uses the π symbol several times throughout the second part, in both diagrams and equations. Although Jones is generally credited as the first to clearly set the letter π equal to the value 3.14 . . ., he may actually have borrowed this use of the π symbol from the writings of the astronomer John Machin, who had calculated π out to one hundred decimal places, and whose work Jones cites elsewhere in his Synopsis. Regardless of which man used the π symbol first, mathematicians adopted the symbol as standard only after the noted mathematician Euler used it in his writings, approximately thirty years after the publication of Jones’ work.

William Jones, Synopsis Palmariorum Matheseos: or, a New Introduction to the Mathematics. London: Printed by J. Matthews for J. Wale, 1706.

X 510 J72S 

Selected Bibliography & Other sources

Arndt, Jörg, and Christoph Haenel. Pi –Unleashed. Trans. Catriona Lischka and David Lischka. Berlin: Springer, 2000. Print.

Beckmann, Petr. A History of Pi. 2nd ed. Boulder: Golem, 1971. Print. (Basically all historical references I mention on this post about the "PI" number for Babilonians, Hindus, Mayas, etc are deep/well explained on this book). Also available at amazon, see link here to buy for less than 15 USD

As usual, wikipedia for William Jones BIO; archive.org (this time the book is not high res and only B/W no color but...)

The Rule of Saint Benedict, 13th(¿?) C.

The wonderful historiated initial below comes from the opening of a copy of the La regle saint Benoit, a French translation of the Rule of Saint Benedict. The illustration shows Saint Benedict addressing four attentive nuns. The artist incorporates suggestive details that give the scene a liveliness that is surprising for so small a picture. scene:: The nun closest to Benedict points to a passage, as if asking for clarification. Benedict holds his book closed, appearing to keep his place with his index finger as he pauses to answer a question.

 

 

Decorated initials are among the most striking features of manuscripts, but they were not widely attested until the Middle Ages. Books were rarely decorated in the ancient world because, even though literacy rates were higher, oratory remained the principal means of delivery while the physical books and scrolls were relegated to supporting roles.

During the Middle Ages, with the influence of Christianity, the book became important both symbolically and practically as an instrument of textual transmission. Decorated initials helped to reveal the structure of a text by emphasizing the beginnings of works, sections and verses. Historiated initials such as this one tended to be reserved for major divisions, while smaller initials might break a text into sections. A memorably decorated initial would help a reader locate its associated text. This is especially so when it reflected the text’s meaning, as in this case, where the initial introduces the sentence, Escoute fille les coma[n]demens de ton maître [Listen, daughters, to the commandments of your teacher]. It may seem odd that the initial, so appealing to the eye, introduces the injunction to “listen.” It reflects a cultural milieu in which the reception of texts was both auditory and visual.

This particular copy of the Rule I could find was produced in northeastern France toward the end of the thirteenth century. It also contains other devotional works, including Li livres des tribulations, Chanson d’amors de pure povreteit, and three short treatises. The French has feminine inflections, suggesting that the book was made for a female readership. An inscription pasted into the book by Claude de Grilly, a nun at the Abbey of Sainte-Glossinde, suggests the book may have been made for that convent.  JC

A couple of sources beeeelow... (sorry, is late while typing this after a hard day at job hehe) ::

• Benedict, Saint, Abbot of Monte Cassino. La regle saint Benoit. ([Lorraine, approximately 1275-1300]). Pre-1650 MS 0098. University of Illinois

• Link provided to an Ebay seller (digital-scriptorium) that has auctions on ebay for a digitized copy of an 8th Century Rule of San Benedict of Nursia, probably this was one of the first editions commissioned.

NYPL’s NEW Digital Collections

The New York Public Library made a recent and exciting announcement --it has made available more than 180,000 images of public domain material from its collection as high-resolution downloads. The idea is to “facilitate sharing, research and reuse by scholars, artists, educators, technologists, publishers, and Internet users of all kinds.”

Images hail from every nook of the NYPL’s rich holdings, from medieval manuscripts to Federal Art Project and Farm Security Administration photographs. Looks nice, I still have to check max resolution available on those sources but... some samples below (links to source provided on images caption):

Henry David Thoreau’s holograph draft manuscript of “Wild Apples,” 1850-1860.

Text with illuminated miniatures, c. 1500-1525.

Chromolithograph map, “Linguistic stocks of American Indians north of Mexico,” 1891.

Photograph by Berenice Abbott, “Oyster Houses, South Street and Pike Slip, Manhattan,” 1935.

Constitution of Cadiz, 19th C

The image at top is from the title page of its first edition (Cádiz: Imprenta Real, 1812). 

 

The Constitution of Cadiz and its immediate predecessor, the Constitution of Bayona, emerged from the political and social crises of the Napoleonic wars. Napoleon Bonaparte invaded Spain in 1808 and replaced the Bourbon monarch Fernando VII with his brother Joseph. 

 

The Constitution of Cadiz is often considered the first liberal constitutions in Europe and in America (and). This document, consisting of 384 articles in about forty pages of text, established sovereignty in the nation and not in the king. The Roman Catholic religion received substantial preference under the Constitution, and the practice of other religions was prohibited. The text included provisions that evinced a liberal bias: representative elections at multiple levels of government, restrictions on the power of the king, rights to property, and rights for the criminally accused. Because the Constitution was drafted by deputies representing not only peninsular Spain but also the American provinces, it was the first truly transatlantic constitution.

 

 

Alvaro Flórez Estrada’s Constitución para la nación española (Birmingham: Swinney y Ferrall, 1810) is a proposed draft of a new constitution by one of Spain’s leading liberals. Flórez Estrada published his proposed draft of a new constitution while in England. 

This proposed draft of the Constitution of Cádiz was published in Mexico City, a reminder of its transatlantic reach. Many of the delegates to the Cortes that ratified the constitution were from Latin America.

An 1836 Alicante edition of the Constitution of Cádiz, extremely rare, bears the bookplate of María Cristina de Borbón, Queen consort of Fernando VII, and regent for her infant daughter Isabella II.

The frontispiece of the Constitution of 1837 (Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1837) bears an allegorical portrait of María Cristina de Borbón, depicting her as “the Restorer of Spanish Liberty”. Her regency set off the Carlist Wars, and when her re-marriage to an ex-sergeant in her guard came to light, the scandalized Spanish exiled her to France.

 

Yale University in USA has been collecting and acquiring Spanish Constitutions (I copy links to Cadiz versions, but they have also Bayona versions) during last years, they have an amazing collection:

• Flórez Estrada, Alvaro, 1766-1853. Constitución para la nación española: presentada a S.M. la Junta Suprema Guvernativa de España è Indias en 1 de noviembre de 1809. Birmingham: Impresores, Swinney y Ferrall de Birmingham, 1810. [2], iv, 82 pages ; 21 cm.
• Spain. Comisión de Constitución, 1811-1813. Proyecto de constitucion política de la Monarquía Española presentado a las Córtes generales y extraordinarias por su Comision de constitucion. México: M.A. Valdes, impresor de Cámara de S.M., 1811. 60 pages ; 21 cm.
• Spain. Comisión de Constitución, 1811-1813. Proyecto de constitucion politica de la Monarquia Española presentado a las Cortes generales y extraordinarias por su Comision de Constitucion. Cádiz: Imprenta Real, 1811. 56 pages ; 20 cm. [With] Continuacion del proyecto de constitucion politica de la Monarquia Española. Cadiz: Imprenta Real, 1811.
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquía Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Cádiz: Imprenta real, 1812. 120 pages ; 15 cm. [With] Discurso preliminar leido en las cortes al presentar la Comisión de Constitución el proyecto de ella. Cadiz: Imprenta Tormentaria, 1812.
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquía Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Cádiz: Dicho año, en la Imprenta Real, [1812]. 52, [8] pages ; 28 cm. Signed at end: “Ignacio de la Pezuela.”
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquía Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Cádiz: Dicho año, En la Imprenta Real, y reimpresa en la Imprinta Real de Madrid de Orden Superior en el mismo año, 1812. [2], 52, [6] pages ; 29 cm. Preliminary page and text signed in type: “Ignacio de la Pezuela.”
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquía Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Reimpresa de orden superior. Madrid: En la Imprenta Real de Madrid, en el mismo año, [1812]. 120, [2] pages ; 15 cm.
• Flórez Estrada, Alvaro, 1766-1853. Constitución política de la nación española por lo tocante á la parte militar. Cadiz: Imprenta Tormentaria, 1813. xxxi, 170, [1] pages ; 15 cm.
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquía Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Madrid: En la Imprenta Nacional de Madrid, año de 1813. 120, [2] pages ; 16 cm.
• Spain. Constitution politique de la monarchie espagnole, promulguée à Cadix, le 19 de mars 1812. Paris: Chez les Marchands de nouveautés, 1814. [2], 72 pages ; 21 cm. “Traduit de l’espagnol, par P. de Lasteyrie.” Library’s copy includes two bookplates: (1) Victor et fidelis; (2) Ex-libris Marcel Dunan.
• Discurso preliminar á la constitución de la Monarquía Española. Barcelona: En la imprenta de Piferrer, Plaza del Ángel, año 1820. 112 pages ; 16 cm. [With] Constitución política de la Monarquía Española, promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de marzo de 1812. Barcelona: Piferrer, 1820. [With] Catecismo político arreglado á la Constitución de la Monarquía Española. Barcelona: Piferrer, 1820. Library’s copy has stamp on title page: “José T. Girbau Berenguer, abogado”. *NO COPIES IN OCLC*
• Spain. Constitución política de la Monarquia Española promulgada en Cádiz á 19 de Marzo de 1812 / grabada y dedicada a las Cortes por Dn. José María de Santiago. Madrid: [publisher not identified], año de 1822. [4], 145, [3] pages : illustrations ; 12 cm. *NO US COPIES*
• Reflexiones sobre la Constitución política de la Monarquia Española: publicada por las Córtes extraordinarias de Cádiz en 1812. Oviedo: En la oficina de D. Fermin Pérez Prieto, año de 1825. [8], XXXIII, 204 pages ; 15 cm.
• Spain. Constitución politica de la Monarquia Española promulgada en Cadiz a 19 de marzo de 1812. Alicante : Reimpreso en Alicante en la de N. Carratalá, 1836. [2], 140 pages ; 16 cm. Library’s copy includes bookplate of María Cristina de Borbón, Queen consort of Ferdinand VII. *NO COPIES IN OCLC*
• Spain. Constitución politica de la Monarquia Española promulgada en Cadiz, a 19 de marzo de 1812. Madrid: En la Imprenta Nacional, año de 1836. 120, [2] pages ; 15 cm.

CONSTITUTION OF 1837

• Spain. Constitución de la Monarquia Española promulgada en Madrid a 18 de junio de 1837, impresa de orden de S.M. la reina gobernadora. Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1837. 37, [2] pages ; 16 cm. Added t.p., engraved title page with allegorical portrait of María Cristina de Borbón, regent for Isabella II.
• Spain. Constitución de la Monarquia Española promulgada en Madrid a 18 de junio de 1837, impresa de orden de S.M. la reina gobernadora. Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1837. 25 page; 36 cm. Added engraved title page page with allegorical portrait of María Cristina de Borbón, regent for Isabella II.

CONSTITUTION OF 1876

• Spain. Proyecto de constitución. Campomanes: Imprenta y fundicion de J. Antonio García, 1875. 24 unnumbered pages ; 31 cm. *NO COPIES IN OCLC*
• Spain. Constitución de la Monarquía Española promulgada el 3 de julio de 1876. Madrid: Imp., Est. y Galv. de Aribau y C, 1876. 61 pages ; 16 cm. Inscribed in type on verso of title page: “Sr. Vizconde de los Antrines, Diputado por Santafé.”

The Book of Durrow, 7th C

The Book of Durrow, or the Codex Usserianus I is perhaps the oldest surviving Insular gospel, was written around 650–675 either at the Durrow Abbey, County Offaly, Ireland, or in Northumbria, England. Wherever it was written, however, it ended up at the Durrow Abbey, where a cumdach (a silver covering) was made to house the manuscript. An inscription added to the text stated: “the prayer and benediction of St. Columb Kille be upon Flann, the son of Malachi, King of Ireland, who caused this cover to be made.”

The manuscript apparently remained at Durrow until the abbey was dissolved in the mid-16th century. According to legend the next custodian of the manuscript placed it in his watering trough to cure his cattle of sickness. Later, sometime around 1662, Henry Jones, Bishop of Clogher and Vice-Chancellor of Trinity College, presented the book to the college library, where it remains to this day.

Folio 22, recto

By the time Christianity was introduced into Ireland by St. Patrick, nomadic Germanic tribes, such as the Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Frisians had conquered much of Europe, including England. Ireland, however, was apparently not all that important to the marauding Germanic pagans and they were left alone to develop a unique version of monastic Christianity. So when St Columbia reintroduced Christianity back into England by establishing monasteries in Iona, Scotland in 563 and Northumbria in 635 these Germanic and Celtic artistic traditions merged – a cross-pollination of sorts – into what is now known as Insular or Hibero-Saxon art.

The Insular scribes and illuminators were heavily influenced by Hibero-Saxon crafts: The complex interlaced knotting, perhaps the most recognizable Insular form, was borrowed from Celtic metalwork, the iconography of animals was borrowed from Germanic zoomorphic designs and the images of the Jesus and the Evangelists from Pictish grave markers. Of course, of all these other sources are now largely forgotten and it is the manuscripts that define the art.

The Insular manuscript ended with the invasion of Ireland by the Normans in 1169–1170, which ushered in the Romanesque style. Many insular design elements, however, continued to be adapted and used as decorative motifs. A millenium later Insular design, often under the misnomer Celtic design, continues to be popular

The Book of Durrow contains the complete compliment of Insular designs. Each gospel is laid out with a full-page miniature of the evangelist or his symbol:

Portrait of Mark. Folio 84, verso

Then a purely ornamental full-page geometric design – a carpet page, named after its resemblance to a Persian rug:

Carpet page. Folio 85, verso

Then an incipit page where the text begins with an elaborately decorated initial letter. These historiated initials became so large that they were integrated into the rest of the text by several lines of decreasing size – an effect known as diminuendo:

Incipit of Mark. Folio 86, recto