Photo: Leiden, Bibliotheca Thysiana, Inv. nr. 2200 H. Photography Giulio Menna (@sexycodicology), courtesy of Erik Kwakkel
May 31st, 1486 turned out to be an unseasonably hot day on the Rhine. Count Philip was holding court. A duke was droning on and on, and the Count was fast losing interest. He patted beads of sweat from his temple with his handkerchief and absent-mindedly studied the stuffy courtroom. His gaze caught on a vase filled with wilting roses and yellowing water. Immediately, he wrote a note asking for a fresh batch to be fetched from Heidelberg.
As he was writing, the Duke finally stopped talking. He probably thinks I’m writing down something to do with his case, the Count thought and an almost imperceptible smile played on his lips. He took advantage of the welcome break to jot down one last instruction before handing the note to his servant:
But make sure to also include some that are not yet flowering.
An extraordinary find
The above account may be fictitious, but the note in question is quite real and shown at the top of the page. It is a small miracle that we still have this Medieval equivalent of a tweet or a yellow sticky note. It was discovered in a book binding by students of Leiden’s Book and Digital Media Studies MA-program, for which Erik Kwakkel – who shared this delightful discovery on his excellent blog on Medieval manuscripts – teaches. A total of 132 paper slips were pressed together to form a board made out of “cardboard”.
Quite unusual is the origins of the material: the recycling bin of a small court near Heidelberg, belonging to an unknown duke. A bookbinder in the sixteenth century used the scraps to form the paper boards of a 1577 print. Many of these slips were produced from recycled charters or account books. The messages were either written on their back (verso), or on a strip that was cut from their (blank) margin. Why use a good sheet of paper if the message would be deleted immediately after use?
The material mostly concerns “yellow sticky notes” that were sent from one servant to another, such as the one seen below. The scrap was written by the court Hofmeister (chamberlain) and requests the amount of six guilders from the duke, whose servant is the recipient of the message.
The extraordinary beauty of these finds lies in their untainted nature: they do not try to be literary or witty, but merely convey a short message. They are part of a type of writing that was produced for short-term use and, ultimately, destruction.
You can find out more about medieval books on Erik Kwakkel’s Medieval Books. Erik Kwakkel is a book historian and lecturer at Leiden University. His blog brings the world of medieval manuscripts to life in a wonderful way.
This post is part of a multi-part series of posts on ancient and Medieval wonders, to celebrate my 99c Pearseus: Rise of the Prince promo. As Pearseus has been described as “Ancient Greece in space,” it seemed strangely appropriate.
I wonder if the flowers were ever delivered. It might be a fake. 😉
True, it was hard to come by a decent florist back then.
This is incredibly interesting, Nicholas. 🙂
Good luck with everything. I’m going to Tweet about your Perseus promotion tonight.
Thank you so much, Barb 😀
You are most welcome, Nicholas. Always the best… 😀
Isn’t it wonderful to know that we humans haven’t changed all that much over the years. Maybe I should press a bunch of my post-its together and bury it somewhere?
Lol – sounds like a plan 😀
Fascinating — I love these unexpected glimpses into everyday lives of people from so long ago. What a marvelous find!
Couldn’t agree more 🙂
This gives me goosebumps. The thought of making such a find in person–wow! We can dream, can’t we? 😀
I know what you mean 😀
Another wonderful bit of information 🙂 Can you imagine opening an old book and finding a 500 year old note inside!
I do believe that the students were thrilled with the discovery 🙂
Very cool find. 🙂
Couldn’t agree more 🙂
Perhaps we should start saving our Post-It-Notes for the edification of future generations, Nicholas?
These are lovely little windows into the past, a lot like the Roman finds you posted about before.
Yes, the common thread is pretty obvious, isn’t it? 🙂
Kind of like little windows in the daily life of the past. Wonder if anything like that will survive from our era.
Hard to tell. On one hand, there are so many media. On the other, most of them are stored on hard disks. Future generations may find all files have been corrupted, or hard disks will be impossible to read, or perhaps they won’t even know what those metal boxes are and will theorize they were used in religious ceremonies (the go-to theory for anything inexplicable by archaeologists/anthropologists).
One global EMP and much of society is gone. Future generations might not even have the power sources to activate the tech of today. What if the future is all cogs and steam instead of electricity?
A steampunk utopia!
That’s really interesting, Nicholas. Thanks for sharing. 🙂 — Suzanne
Glad you enjoyed it, Suzanne! Thank you 🙂