Steven Avery
Administrator
Codex Sinaiticus. The story of the world's oldest Bible.
By D.avid Charles. Parker.
p. 127-151
By D.avid Charles. Parker.
p. 127-151
corrections of David Parker on Tischendorf history from Alexander Schick
- Thread starter Steven Avery
- Start date
Steven Avery
Administrator
p. 3
The history of the manuscript down to the eighteenth century is
not known. How much it was used and in what way we cannot
tell. There is evidence that pieces of it were used as a source of
material for bookbinding in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries. From 1844 the story can be told in detail. In that year a
German scholar from Leipzig called Constantin Tischendorf was
shown some leaves of the Old Testament, and allowed to take forty-
three of them home with him. 'Hicsc leaves arc in Leipzig University
Library. 'Hie following year a Russian monk, Porphyry Uspcnski,
visited Sinai. He found some fragments of the manuscript which
p. 128
had been used for bookbinding, and took them back to St Peters-
burg. Tischcndorf returned in 1859, and all of the manuscript that
was then known to survive was shown to him, and subsequently
loaned for a complete copy to be made. After protracted nego-
tiations these pages became the property of Tsar Alexander II of
Russia in 1869.
Tischendorf published the leaves acquired in 1844 shortly after
his return, in an edition which imitated the page layout of the
manuscript and reproduced the appearance of the characters with
specially made type. After the 1859 visit, he made a similar edition of
the entire manuscript, which was presented to the Tsar and Tsarina
in 1862. Both these editions include information about every
correction, indicating both the original wording and what replaced
it, and which corrector made it.
Superb though these editions were, the publication of a photographic facsimile in the early years of the last century was a
significant improvement, the New Testament being published in 1911
and the Old Testament in 1922. The scholarly part of the work was
carried out by the British scholar Kirsopp Lake and his wife Helen.
They re-examined Tischendorfs theories with regard to the scribes
and correctors, accepting them so far as the scribes were concerned,
but elaborating the list of correctors, the facsimile itself has served
fairly well, in spite of the weakness that it is not in colour, and is
sometimes rather grey in tone.
Kirsopp Lake
(1872-1946) trained
in Oxford and was
professor at Leiden
when the first
volume came out
and at Harvard on
the publication of
the second.
The manuscript stayed in St Petersburg until 1933, when it was
bought by the British Museum for £100,000. It arrived in London
on 26 December, and went on view on 28 December. Rebound by
the distinguished bookbinder Douglas Cockerell, it was the subject
of a detailed analysis by two Assistant Keepers of Manuscripts,
H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat. They assessed the contributions
of Tischendorf and the Lakes, and came to new and convincing
conclusions with regard to both scribes and correctors. Their work
also includes copious illustrations, and discussion of many import-
ant matters concerning the book’s creation and preservation. It
focuses on the physical aspects, and has very little to say about the
text itself.
The manuscript was on show in the Manuscripts Saloon until the
British Library was moved to a new building at St Pancras in 1998.
There it may still be seen in the Sir John Ritblat Gallery, flanked by
another famous Greek Bible and amongst many other wonderful
manuscripts: Bibles in Greek and Latin (such as the Lindisfarne
Gospels) and other languages; the fourteenth-century Sultan
Baybar's Qur'an in seven stunning volumes; service and prayer
books such as the Sherborne Missal and the Golden Haggadah;
literary texts and musical scores such as Handel s Messiah; notes and
sketches by Leonardo da Vinci; political documents, most notably
Magna Carta. Among this display, which illustrates creative genius,
world history and the highest achievements in book manufacture.
Codex Sinaiticus continues to hold its own as one of the most signifi-
cant copies of one of the most significant bodies of text ever to have
been produced.
Meanwhile, in 1975 a remarkable event occurred at St Catherine's:
the discovery of a room containing many manuscripts and frag-
ments of manuscripts, including complete and partial leaves of
Codex Sinaiticus. These leaves have only recently been published, as
part of the Virtual Codex Sinaiticus.
The manuscript stayed in St Petersburg until 1933, when it was
bought by the British Museum for £100,000. It arrived in London
on 26 December, and went on view on 28 December. Rebound by
the distinguished bookbinder Douglas Cockerell, it was the subject
of a detailed analysis by two Assistant Keepers of Manuscripts,
H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat. They assessed the contributions
of Tischendorf and the Lakes, and came to new and convincing
conclusions with regard to both scribes and correctors. Their work
also includes copious illustrations, and discussion of many import-
ant matters concerning the book’s creation and preservation. It
The history of the manuscript down to the eighteenth century is
not known. How much it was used and in what way we cannot
tell. There is evidence that pieces of it were used as a source of
material for bookbinding in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries. From 1844 the story can be told in detail. In that year a
German scholar from Leipzig called Constantin Tischendorf was
shown some leaves of the Old Testament, and allowed to take forty-
three of them home with him. 'Hicsc leaves arc in Leipzig University
Library. 'Hie following year a Russian monk, Porphyry Uspcnski,
visited Sinai. He found some fragments of the manuscript which
p. 128
had been used for bookbinding, and took them back to St Peters-
burg. Tischcndorf returned in 1859, and all of the manuscript that
was then known to survive was shown to him, and subsequently
loaned for a complete copy to be made. After protracted nego-
tiations these pages became the property of Tsar Alexander II of
Russia in 1869.
Tischendorf published the leaves acquired in 1844 shortly after
his return, in an edition which imitated the page layout of the
manuscript and reproduced the appearance of the characters with
specially made type. After the 1859 visit, he made a similar edition of
the entire manuscript, which was presented to the Tsar and Tsarina
in 1862. Both these editions include information about every
correction, indicating both the original wording and what replaced
it, and which corrector made it.
Superb though these editions were, the publication of a photographic facsimile in the early years of the last century was a
significant improvement, the New Testament being published in 1911
and the Old Testament in 1922. The scholarly part of the work was
carried out by the British scholar Kirsopp Lake and his wife Helen.
They re-examined Tischendorfs theories with regard to the scribes
and correctors, accepting them so far as the scribes were concerned,
but elaborating the list of correctors, the facsimile itself has served
fairly well, in spite of the weakness that it is not in colour, and is
sometimes rather grey in tone.
Kirsopp Lake
(1872-1946) trained
in Oxford and was
professor at Leiden
when the first
volume came out
and at Harvard on
the publication of
the second.
The manuscript stayed in St Petersburg until 1933, when it was
bought by the British Museum for £100,000. It arrived in London
on 26 December, and went on view on 28 December. Rebound by
the distinguished bookbinder Douglas Cockerell, it was the subject
of a detailed analysis by two Assistant Keepers of Manuscripts,
H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat. They assessed the contributions
of Tischendorf and the Lakes, and came to new and convincing
conclusions with regard to both scribes and correctors. Their work
also includes copious illustrations, and discussion of many import-
ant matters concerning the book’s creation and preservation. It
focuses on the physical aspects, and has very little to say about the
text itself.
The manuscript was on show in the Manuscripts Saloon until the
British Library was moved to a new building at St Pancras in 1998.
There it may still be seen in the Sir John Ritblat Gallery, flanked by
another famous Greek Bible and amongst many other wonderful
manuscripts: Bibles in Greek and Latin (such as the Lindisfarne
Gospels) and other languages; the fourteenth-century Sultan
Baybar's Qur'an in seven stunning volumes; service and prayer
books such as the Sherborne Missal and the Golden Haggadah;
literary texts and musical scores such as Handel s Messiah; notes and
sketches by Leonardo da Vinci; political documents, most notably
Magna Carta. Among this display, which illustrates creative genius,
world history and the highest achievements in book manufacture.
Codex Sinaiticus continues to hold its own as one of the most signifi-
cant copies of one of the most significant bodies of text ever to have
been produced.
Meanwhile, in 1975 a remarkable event occurred at St Catherine's:
the discovery of a room containing many manuscripts and frag-
ments of manuscripts, including complete and partial leaves of
Codex Sinaiticus. These leaves have only recently been published, as
part of the Virtual Codex Sinaiticus.
The manuscript stayed in St Petersburg until 1933, when it was
bought by the British Museum for £100,000. It arrived in London
on 26 December, and went on view on 28 December. Rebound by
the distinguished bookbinder Douglas Cockerell, it was the subject
of a detailed analysis by two Assistant Keepers of Manuscripts,
H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat. They assessed the contributions
of Tischendorf and the Lakes, and came to new and convincing
conclusions with regard to both scribes and correctors. Their work
also includes copious illustrations, and discussion of many import-
ant matters concerning the book’s creation and preservation. It
Last edited:
Steven Avery
Administrator
P. 127
The modern history of Codex Sinaiticus is inextricably
linked to one person, namely Constantin von Tischendorf.
variously described as scholar, editor of the Greek New
Testament and explorer. The last runs the risk of exaggeration. He
was not a Livingstone or a Burton. But he was a great traveller,
always in search of manuscripts, which he would study for what they
revealed about the text of the Bible. From the beginning, he
recognised the value of making complete transcriptions of entire
(skip TIschendorf history)
p. 128
THE VISIT OF 1844
The first trip to the Bast, and in particular the visit to St Catherine’s,
was a far bolder expedition than his European travels. The
description by his son-in-law has the air of tales told by the family
fireside in later years: the twelve-day journey across the desert by
p. 129
the scholar, the dragoman who acted as interpreter, three Bedouin
and four camels (did one of them really have to walk?); the beauty
of the desert night ( Above him the starry heavens of the East
shone in incredible glory, and the camels grunted in the distance’).
The trip was not without incident. ‘A sudden breeze, which blew
across from the Red Sea, carried off his straw hat . . . The three
Bedouin chased after it, but returned after three-quarters of an hour
without having retrieved it. Without a hat, however, the journey
could not be continued, so back they went once more and searched
all night, until by eight o’clock next morning they came back with
it' (p. 39f )•
The story of the twenty-nine-year-old Tischendorf s first encounter
with the Codex is often told in his own words, without any attempt
to evaluate them. It is sometimes even stated that he discovered’ it: a
plainly ridiculous verb, since it was already known and had long been
known to the monks of St Catherine’s. The most that can be said is
that he was the first modern western scholar to study it.
Tischendorf’s account runs as follows:
I perceived in the middle of the great hall a large and wide basket full of
old parchments; and the librarian, who was a man of information, told me
that two heaps of papers like these, mouldered by time, had already been
committed to the flames. What was my surprise to find amid this heap of
papers a considerable number of leaves of a copy of the Old Testament in
Greek which seemed to me to be one of the most ancient that 1 had ever
seen. The authorities of the monastery allowed me to possess myself of a
third of these parchments, or about forty-three leaves, all the more readily
as they were designated for the fire. But I could not get them to yield up
possession of the remainder. The too lively satisfaction which I had dis-
played had aroused their suspicions as to the value of the manuscript.
I. . . enjoined the monks to take religious care of all such remains which
might fall their way.
They allowed him to list the contents of the other eighty-six leaves,
and he also copied a few pages of them.
Although this account appears straightforward, it needs to be
p. 130
scrutinised rather carefully. One does not need to be a devout
follower of Edward Said to recognise in this text the influence of the
genre of the narrative of travel in the Orient: the remoteness of
the spot, the antiquity of the surroundings, the ignorance of the
inhabitants, the high status of the visitor. So well established was the
genre, that Alexandre Dumas Pcrc was able to write an account of
his visit to the Orient and St Catherine's without having to give
himself the trouble of leaving Paris!
Beyond this general observation, there are a number of ways in
which Tischendorf may have been confused. In the first place, it was
the custom for baskets to be used in the monastery library for
storing books. In fact, some of them may still be seen in the library
today (and parts of baskets were found along with the New Finds).
One could imagine that Tischendorf confused library baskets
with fuel baskets - after all, a basket is a basket - and jumped to the
wrong conclusion. Moreover, parchment is very difficult to burn and
produces more smell than heat.
Again, one wonders how well he was able to communicate with
the monk he was talking to; he might have misunderstood what
was being said. Did he communicate directly, or was there an
interpreter? If so, who? (The dragoman s role will have been to
translate between Arabic and German.) It seems that where direct
communication was possible, the preferred medium was French,
with Greek as a poor alternative. Tischendorf's limitations in
speaking (as opposed to reading) Greek are borne out by a story
which he tells against himself: during the 1844 visit, he was given an
interview with the Patriarch of Alexandria. The patriarch decided to
test his visitors linguistic skills by asking him to read aloud from a
printed book. So bizarre was Tischendorf s Leipzig pronunciation
that his host pronounced him to be virtually illiterate: 'How could I
read a manuscript, when I could not even read a printed text?' Was
Tischendorf able effectively to communicate with the monks? Even
granting that he could, one migfrt even suppose another possibility:
that the monk had a sense of humour, or else was interested to see
p. 131
how strongly this western visitor would react to such a piece of
information.
In short, although there arc no grounds for believing it to be
deliberately misleading, one cannot take Tischendorf s account at
face value. We can suppose that, even with the best will in the world,
he may have wanted to believe that he had a role to play in saving
the manuscript for posterity. His account asks us to believe a
remarkable thing, namely that having looked after this precious
manuscript for centuries, the monks were finally destroying it just
at the moment - happy coincidence - when a saviour arrived out
of the West. Of course, truth is stranger than fiction. But we have
seen (in the last chapter) evidence which suggests that parts of the
Codex had already been dismembered. We may now add to this
the evidence from what Tischendorf saw.
In 1844, he was shown two blocks of material, namely Quires 35-1
to 37-3 and 47-49 He was not shown the leaves in between them, nor
anything after. In 1859, he saw Quires 37-4 to 46-8 and 57 onwards. We
can say that the material he saw in 1844 was not bound in with what
he saw later. It is interesting that the leaf Q34F8 was not among the
1844 leaves, but among what was shown him in 1859. It adds to the
evidence that leaves of the manuscript were kept in different places
in the monastery.
p. 132
We can say, then, that Tischendorf’s account has been taken at
face value by western scholarship for too long, and that there are
serious difficulties with it. Parchment will not burn. Even if it
did, the burning of Codex Sinaiticus is disproved by the discovery
of fragments used in bookbinding and above all by the New Finds
of 1975! Finally, it is important to recognise that no other record of
the events of 1844 has yet been identified, so that his report lacks
corroboration.
p. 133
The Leipzig Leaves
What happened next was the acquisition of the forty-three leaves
which Tischendorf had been given. He took them back with him to
Leipzig and deposited them in the University Library, giving them
the name Codex Friderico-Augustanus, in acknowledgement of his
patron the King of Saxony, Frederick Augustus II. Tischendorf
published a transcription in lithographic facsimile of these leaves in
1846. To understand the significance of this find, we have to remem-
ber certain things. First, that this was a part of the Septuagint, and
there was no way then of more than hoping that there might be
more. But a fourth-century copy of part of the Septuagint is no
trivial discovery. It upstaged Codex Ephraemi Rescriptus. Codex
Vaticanus, a competitor in terms of age, was still only incompletely
known. And the leaves of 1844 are some of the most remarkable
in the Codex, containing as they do the extensive Pamphilian
corrections to 2 Esdras and Esther with their accompanying
colophons, and the three crosses note. One may understand
Tischendorf’s enthusiasm for the Codex, and the sense of urgency
which led him first to seek to buy more through an intermediary,
and then to return to St Catherine's to search again. It is worth
adding that he refused to reveal where he had found the manuscript.
In a letter to his brother written on 15 June shortly after he got back
to Cairo, he mentions the manuscript but without referring to the
circumstances bv which he came to see it. The published account did
not come out until 1865. This is hardly surprising, given his hope of
finding more. It is not even that one might suspect him of wanting
to keep the glory for himself. The acquisition of such things would
probably have appeared to an observer then, as now, to be a delicate
process in which the intervention of more parties might well have
complicated matters. I do not even mean that such an intervention
might affect the price. It simply makes the transaction more difficult.
But one aspect of this part of the story may be surprising, namely
the feet of ancient manuscripts changing hands. It should be remem-
bered that books are among the more portable of artefacts, as
p. 134
the title of the first chapter of this book reminds us. It had been
common since the Renaissance for western Europeans to acquire
books from eastern libraries, and interest was increasing in the early
part of the nineteenth century. The tone may be set with a quotation
from the Honourable Robert Curzon's popular accounts of his
(skip Curzon)
p. 135
In this setting, the purchase by a German scholar of some leaves
of a dismembered ancient Septuagint was not out of the ordinary,
and we would be wrong to blame either Tischendorf or the
monastery for the roles they played. Leipzig University Library is
not the only library holding manuscripts from St Catherine's, and
Codex Sinaiticus is not the only manuscript from St Catherine’s in a
western library.
But not everyone was in favour of the sale of manuscripts to western visitors. Later, in 1858, the Holy Synod in St Petersburg was to propose that instead of funding Tischendorf to collect manu- scripts, a few young Russian scholars should be sent to take photographs of any significant manuscripts they should find. Certainly the
p. 136
advent of the camera was to change the situation completely. But this option was not available in 1844.
Skip Bankes Turner Tattum
The modern history of Codex Sinaiticus is inextricably
linked to one person, namely Constantin von Tischendorf.
variously described as scholar, editor of the Greek New
Testament and explorer. The last runs the risk of exaggeration. He
was not a Livingstone or a Burton. But he was a great traveller,
always in search of manuscripts, which he would study for what they
revealed about the text of the Bible. From the beginning, he
recognised the value of making complete transcriptions of entire
(skip TIschendorf history)
Burgmüller,Norbert,Komponist,1810-1836,Romantik,Rheinland,Musik,Düsseldorf
Norbert Burgmüller umfassende Information über den romantischen Komponisten mit zahlreichen Abbildungen und Übersichten
web.archive.org
p. 128
THE VISIT OF 1844
The first trip to the Bast, and in particular the visit to St Catherine’s,
was a far bolder expedition than his European travels. The
description by his son-in-law has the air of tales told by the family
fireside in later years: the twelve-day journey across the desert by
p. 129
the scholar, the dragoman who acted as interpreter, three Bedouin
and four camels (did one of them really have to walk?); the beauty
of the desert night ( Above him the starry heavens of the East
shone in incredible glory, and the camels grunted in the distance’).
The trip was not without incident. ‘A sudden breeze, which blew
across from the Red Sea, carried off his straw hat . . . The three
Bedouin chased after it, but returned after three-quarters of an hour
without having retrieved it. Without a hat, however, the journey
could not be continued, so back they went once more and searched
all night, until by eight o’clock next morning they came back with
it' (p. 39f )•
The story of the twenty-nine-year-old Tischendorf s first encounter
with the Codex is often told in his own words, without any attempt
to evaluate them. It is sometimes even stated that he discovered’ it: a
plainly ridiculous verb, since it was already known and had long been
known to the monks of St Catherine’s. The most that can be said is
that he was the first modern western scholar to study it.
Tischendorf’s account runs as follows:
I perceived in the middle of the great hall a large and wide basket full of
old parchments; and the librarian, who was a man of information, told me
that two heaps of papers like these, mouldered by time, had already been
committed to the flames. What was my surprise to find amid this heap of
papers a considerable number of leaves of a copy of the Old Testament in
Greek which seemed to me to be one of the most ancient that 1 had ever
seen. The authorities of the monastery allowed me to possess myself of a
third of these parchments, or about forty-three leaves, all the more readily
as they were designated for the fire. But I could not get them to yield up
possession of the remainder. The too lively satisfaction which I had dis-
played had aroused their suspicions as to the value of the manuscript.
I. . . enjoined the monks to take religious care of all such remains which
might fall their way.
They allowed him to list the contents of the other eighty-six leaves,
and he also copied a few pages of them.
Although this account appears straightforward, it needs to be
p. 130
scrutinised rather carefully. One does not need to be a devout
follower of Edward Said to recognise in this text the influence of the
genre of the narrative of travel in the Orient: the remoteness of
the spot, the antiquity of the surroundings, the ignorance of the
inhabitants, the high status of the visitor. So well established was the
genre, that Alexandre Dumas Pcrc was able to write an account of
his visit to the Orient and St Catherine's without having to give
himself the trouble of leaving Paris!
Beyond this general observation, there are a number of ways in
which Tischendorf may have been confused. In the first place, it was
the custom for baskets to be used in the monastery library for
storing books. In fact, some of them may still be seen in the library
today (and parts of baskets were found along with the New Finds).
One could imagine that Tischendorf confused library baskets
with fuel baskets - after all, a basket is a basket - and jumped to the
wrong conclusion. Moreover, parchment is very difficult to burn and
produces more smell than heat.
Again, one wonders how well he was able to communicate with
the monk he was talking to; he might have misunderstood what
was being said. Did he communicate directly, or was there an
interpreter? If so, who? (The dragoman s role will have been to
translate between Arabic and German.) It seems that where direct
communication was possible, the preferred medium was French,
with Greek as a poor alternative. Tischendorf's limitations in
speaking (as opposed to reading) Greek are borne out by a story
which he tells against himself: during the 1844 visit, he was given an
interview with the Patriarch of Alexandria. The patriarch decided to
test his visitors linguistic skills by asking him to read aloud from a
printed book. So bizarre was Tischendorf s Leipzig pronunciation
that his host pronounced him to be virtually illiterate: 'How could I
read a manuscript, when I could not even read a printed text?' Was
Tischendorf able effectively to communicate with the monks? Even
granting that he could, one migfrt even suppose another possibility:
that the monk had a sense of humour, or else was interested to see
p. 131
how strongly this western visitor would react to such a piece of
information.
In short, although there arc no grounds for believing it to be
deliberately misleading, one cannot take Tischendorf s account at
face value. We can suppose that, even with the best will in the world,
he may have wanted to believe that he had a role to play in saving
the manuscript for posterity. His account asks us to believe a
remarkable thing, namely that having looked after this precious
manuscript for centuries, the monks were finally destroying it just
at the moment - happy coincidence - when a saviour arrived out
of the West. Of course, truth is stranger than fiction. But we have
seen (in the last chapter) evidence which suggests that parts of the
Codex had already been dismembered. We may now add to this
the evidence from what Tischendorf saw.
In 1844, he was shown two blocks of material, namely Quires 35-1
to 37-3 and 47-49 He was not shown the leaves in between them, nor
anything after. In 1859, he saw Quires 37-4 to 46-8 and 57 onwards. We
can say that the material he saw in 1844 was not bound in with what
he saw later. It is interesting that the leaf Q34F8 was not among the
1844 leaves, but among what was shown him in 1859. It adds to the
evidence that leaves of the manuscript were kept in different places
in the monastery.
p. 132
We can say, then, that Tischendorf’s account has been taken at
face value by western scholarship for too long, and that there are
serious difficulties with it. Parchment will not burn. Even if it
did, the burning of Codex Sinaiticus is disproved by the discovery
of fragments used in bookbinding and above all by the New Finds
of 1975! Finally, it is important to recognise that no other record of
the events of 1844 has yet been identified, so that his report lacks
corroboration.
p. 133
The Leipzig Leaves
What happened next was the acquisition of the forty-three leaves
which Tischendorf had been given. He took them back with him to
Leipzig and deposited them in the University Library, giving them
the name Codex Friderico-Augustanus, in acknowledgement of his
patron the King of Saxony, Frederick Augustus II. Tischendorf
published a transcription in lithographic facsimile of these leaves in
1846. To understand the significance of this find, we have to remem-
ber certain things. First, that this was a part of the Septuagint, and
there was no way then of more than hoping that there might be
more. But a fourth-century copy of part of the Septuagint is no
trivial discovery. It upstaged Codex Ephraemi Rescriptus. Codex
Vaticanus, a competitor in terms of age, was still only incompletely
known. And the leaves of 1844 are some of the most remarkable
in the Codex, containing as they do the extensive Pamphilian
corrections to 2 Esdras and Esther with their accompanying
colophons, and the three crosses note. One may understand
Tischendorf’s enthusiasm for the Codex, and the sense of urgency
which led him first to seek to buy more through an intermediary,
and then to return to St Catherine's to search again. It is worth
adding that he refused to reveal where he had found the manuscript.
In a letter to his brother written on 15 June shortly after he got back
to Cairo, he mentions the manuscript but without referring to the
circumstances bv which he came to see it. The published account did
not come out until 1865. This is hardly surprising, given his hope of
finding more. It is not even that one might suspect him of wanting
to keep the glory for himself. The acquisition of such things would
probably have appeared to an observer then, as now, to be a delicate
process in which the intervention of more parties might well have
complicated matters. I do not even mean that such an intervention
might affect the price. It simply makes the transaction more difficult.
But one aspect of this part of the story may be surprising, namely
the feet of ancient manuscripts changing hands. It should be remem-
bered that books are among the more portable of artefacts, as
p. 134
the title of the first chapter of this book reminds us. It had been
common since the Renaissance for western Europeans to acquire
books from eastern libraries, and interest was increasing in the early
part of the nineteenth century. The tone may be set with a quotation
from the Honourable Robert Curzon's popular accounts of his
(skip Curzon)
p. 135
In this setting, the purchase by a German scholar of some leaves
of a dismembered ancient Septuagint was not out of the ordinary,
and we would be wrong to blame either Tischendorf or the
monastery for the roles they played. Leipzig University Library is
not the only library holding manuscripts from St Catherine's, and
Codex Sinaiticus is not the only manuscript from St Catherine’s in a
western library.
But not everyone was in favour of the sale of manuscripts to western visitors. Later, in 1858, the Holy Synod in St Petersburg was to propose that instead of funding Tischendorf to collect manu- scripts, a few young Russian scholars should be sent to take photographs of any significant manuscripts they should find. Certainly the
p. 136
advent of the camera was to change the situation completely. But this option was not available in 1844.
Skip Bankes Turner Tattum
Last edited:
Steven Avery
Administrator
p. 136
THE VISIT OF 1859
This then, a typical event in its day, was the first dealing between
Tischendorf and St Catherine's. The second, in 1853, proved an
anticlimax so far as Codex Sinaiticus was concerned. All that
Tischendorf found was a little fragment containing eleven lines
from Genesis in a collection of lives of saints. According to his son-
in-law's account, it was in use as a bookmark. There was no sign of
anything else, and the librarian had no recollection of what had
happened to the leaves which Tischendorf had seen in 1844. The
visitor went home with other treasures, but no further forward in
this respect. When he returned in 1859, things got exciting again.
This time, Tischendorf had imperial patronage. We resume his
account:
Several motives, and more especially the deep reverence of all Eastern
monasteries for the Emperor of Russia, led me. in the autumn of 1856. to
submit to the Russian Government a plan of a journey for making system-
atic researches in the East... The interest which my proposal excited, even
within the imperial circle, inclined the Emperor in my favour. It obtained
his approval in the month of September, 1858 . . . and in the commence-
ment of January, 1859,1 again set sail for the East...
After having devoted a few days in turning over the manuscripts of the
convent... I told my Bedouins, on the 4th February, to hold themselves in
readiness to set out with their dromedaries for Cairo on the 7th, when an
entirely fortuitous circumstance carried me at once to the goal of all my
desires. On the afternoon of this day I was taking a walk with the steward
of the convent in the neighbourhood, and as we returned towards sunset
he begged me to take some refreshment with him in his cell. Scarcely had
he entered the room, when, resuming our former subject of conversation,
he said 'And I too, have read a Septuagint;’ and so saying, he took down
from the corner of the room a bulky kind of volume wrapped up in a red
cloth, and laid it before me. 1 unrolled the cover, and discovered, to my
p. 137
great surprise, not only those fragments which, fifteen years before, I had
taken out of the basket, but also other parts of the Old Testament, the
New Testament complete, and, in addition, the Epistle of Barnabas and a
part of the Pastor of Hermas.
Again Tischendorf’s version requires scrutiny. Fortunately, we arc
now able to form a far fuller picture of the events which followed
and their complicated background.
In order to understand what follows, it is necessary to know the
extent and sources of the documentary evidence now available.
First, there are papers in Russia which have been the subject of
several studies. Second, there is previously unstudied material in St
Catherine's. This consists partly of correspondence and other
papers which have been there since the events in question. There is
also a set of papers which were copied in June 1940. There was at
that time still a White Russian embassy in Cairo, and the monastery
had copies made of the documents held there which related to
Codex Sinaiticus. We are no longer dependent upon later reports by
Tischendorf and others.
Moreover, we have available a new document which allows the
history of Codex Sinaiticus to be studied from a fresh perspective.
This is the agreed account between the four partners in the Codex
Sinaiticus Project. It is a text which, in its own words, recognizes that
the events are not fully known: ‘hence, they are susceptible to widely
divergent interpretations and recountings that are evaluated
differently as to their form and essence. Although they have not
come to a full accord over the recent history of the Codex, the four
collaborating institutions offer the present, common, agreed text as
the basis of a common formulation, as a framework of historical
reference that may be completed by yet further documents, and as
a basis for dialogue and the interpretation of events'. The following
account draws on the full range of documentation, viewing it in the
light of this courageous and far-sighted achievement.
p. 138
COPYING THE MANUSCRIPT
In the first place, Tischendorf wanted to transcribe the manuscript.
Affairs at this point were confused by the fact that a new archbishop
was to be elected. The Prior, the only person with the authority to
allow him to borrow it for this purpose, had left for Cairo.
Tischendorf received permission for the loan and sent off a Bedouin,
who returned in nine days with the manuscript. Once the
manuscript was in Cairo, Tischendorf was able to borrow a quire
at a time to make the transcription.
Meanwhile, the process of installing a new archbishop was not
proving straightforward. The nominee was Cyril, to be the second
archbishop of that name. The consecration had to be carried out by
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who was opposed to Cyril’s appoint-
ment. The difficulties arising out of this situation had both an
immediate and a more lasting influence. To start with, they compli-
cated the process of making a transcription of the manuscript. They
were also an important factor in the chain of events which led to the
presentation of the manuscript to the Tsar. They have also been
responsible for some of the subsequent misunderstandings and
controversy surrounding this presentation.
It needs to be stated again that Tischendorf s goal was to produce
printed editions of ancient manuscripts, so as to preserve their
contents for posterity. The edition of Codex Sinaiticus was a
continuation of the project he had set himself at the beginning
of his career:
In the first place my object is to collect the few manuscripts of the text of
the New Testament written before the tenth century and lying dispersed
through the libraries of Europe, and print them verbatim. This collection
of originals, which would comprise thirty to forty volumes, appears to me
on one side to present a far safer foundation for the learned critics of the
text of all ages than the comparison of lists of various readings; and on the
other side I consider it in itself a valuable possession for the Christian
church.
p. 139
The most important task for him was therefore to record the
contents. This he set out to do at once in Cairo:
The time was now come boldly and without delay to set to work to a task
of transcribing no less than a hundred and ten thousand lines, - of which
a great number were difficult to read, either on account of later cor-
rections, or through the ink having faded, - and that in a climate where
the thermometer during March, April, and May, is never below 770 in the
shade. No one can say what this cost me in fatigue and exhaustion.
According to his son-in-law, Tischendorf accomplished the task in
two months, with the assistance of two Germans resident in Cairo,
a doctor and a chemist (in some accounts they are an apothecary
and a bookseller). Their role was to copy out the manuscript, and
Tischendorf checked their work. No doubt they achieved a great
deal. But why docs Tischendorf’s own account go on to state that
when in September he took the manuscript as a loan to St
Petersburg, it was ‘there to have it copied as accurately as possible'?
And that it was to take a further three years to complete ‘the
laborious task of producing a facsimile copy of this codex in four
folio volumes'? Is it true that in those two months in Cairo they
transcribed the whole manuscript? Or at any rate, that what they
produced was more than the rough beginnings of a transcription?
The experience of the Digital Project (building on a hundred and
fifty years of research) suggests that eight weeks might serve to
produce some sort of a version of some of the manuscript, but not
an accurate copy of the whole.
But it is the outcome that matters, and the facsimile edition is
a wonderful achievement, transferring the manuscript into book
form, with layout and font intended to represent those of the
manuscript, and with detailed notes describing the corrections.
Tischendorf not only had to make a transcription, he had to
ascertain the number of scribes, allocate the text to each, and do
the same for all the correctors. Areas where he was at fault
have already been mentioned. But on the whole he laid safe
See Plate 15
p. 140
foundations for subsequent research. The triumphant denouement
came when
In the month of October, 1862,1 repaired to St. Petersburg to present this
edition to their Majesties. The Emperor, who had liberally provided the
cost, and who approved the proposal of this superb manuscript appearing
on the celebration of the Millenary Jubilee of the Russian empire, has
distributed impressions of it throughout the Christian world, which,
without distinction of creed, have expressed their recognition of its
value.
PRESENTATION TO THE TSAR
(skip for now - includes Uspensky (Uspenski)
Wc may put the matter into context by telling the story
of Tischendorf’s Russian equivalent, Archimandrite Porphyry
Uspenski (also baptised Constantin). Uspenski visited St Catherine’s
shortly after Tischendorf's first visit. He saw the manuscript, and
it appears that Tischcndorf's success in becoming the one whose
name was most closely associated with it came to rankle him. In 1863
he published a bad-tempered attack on the manuscript, observing
that ‘the people looked affectionately on the relic of Sinaitic
antiquity, and kissed it devoutly, knowing nothing of its heretical
origin, neither perceiving any foul odour from it’. (The supposed
heresy is due to the text’s differences from the Byzantine text of later
centuries.) Although this attack has the odour of sour grapes about
it, it did not need Tischendorf’s equally ill-tempered rejoinder
against the ‘dirty controversy of a stupid and fanatical monk, who is
p. 141
full of absurd petty jealousy*. But this is only one part of the
relationship between the two men. In 1862 Uspenski was extremely
generous in sharing his finds with Tischendorf, who wrote warmly
of his generosity and their cordial dealings.
Skip St. Petersburg - loan etc
p. 142
For the next three years, Tischendorf examined the manuscript in
St Petersburg regularly while making the edition. On 29 October
1862, he passed it over to the Russian authorities, at the point at
which he presented his edition to the Tsar and Tsarina. The manu-
Then Archbishop Cyril
p. 147
Traditionally, interpretations of the story have centred around
Tischendorf, treating him either as hero or as villain. The extensive
SOURCES AND FURTHER READING
p. 148
The book by Tischendorf’s son-in-law is L. Schnellcr, Search on Sinai.
The Story of Tischendorf s Lije and the Search for a Lost Manuscript, London:
Epworth Press, 1939
are by Dr Fyssas, with a few re-phrasing?. Note that Dr Zakharova's
translation of the Synaxis' letter at http://www.nlr.ru/cng/exib/Codex
Sinairicus / zah / 3_5 html differs slightly from the version above in its
interpretation of the penultimate clause.
THE VISIT OF 1859
This then, a typical event in its day, was the first dealing between
Tischendorf and St Catherine's. The second, in 1853, proved an
anticlimax so far as Codex Sinaiticus was concerned. All that
Tischendorf found was a little fragment containing eleven lines
from Genesis in a collection of lives of saints. According to his son-
in-law's account, it was in use as a bookmark. There was no sign of
anything else, and the librarian had no recollection of what had
happened to the leaves which Tischendorf had seen in 1844. The
visitor went home with other treasures, but no further forward in
this respect. When he returned in 1859, things got exciting again.
This time, Tischendorf had imperial patronage. We resume his
account:
Several motives, and more especially the deep reverence of all Eastern
monasteries for the Emperor of Russia, led me. in the autumn of 1856. to
submit to the Russian Government a plan of a journey for making system-
atic researches in the East... The interest which my proposal excited, even
within the imperial circle, inclined the Emperor in my favour. It obtained
his approval in the month of September, 1858 . . . and in the commence-
ment of January, 1859,1 again set sail for the East...
After having devoted a few days in turning over the manuscripts of the
convent... I told my Bedouins, on the 4th February, to hold themselves in
readiness to set out with their dromedaries for Cairo on the 7th, when an
entirely fortuitous circumstance carried me at once to the goal of all my
desires. On the afternoon of this day I was taking a walk with the steward
of the convent in the neighbourhood, and as we returned towards sunset
he begged me to take some refreshment with him in his cell. Scarcely had
he entered the room, when, resuming our former subject of conversation,
he said 'And I too, have read a Septuagint;’ and so saying, he took down
from the corner of the room a bulky kind of volume wrapped up in a red
cloth, and laid it before me. 1 unrolled the cover, and discovered, to my
p. 137
great surprise, not only those fragments which, fifteen years before, I had
taken out of the basket, but also other parts of the Old Testament, the
New Testament complete, and, in addition, the Epistle of Barnabas and a
part of the Pastor of Hermas.
Again Tischendorf’s version requires scrutiny. Fortunately, we arc
now able to form a far fuller picture of the events which followed
and their complicated background.
In order to understand what follows, it is necessary to know the
extent and sources of the documentary evidence now available.
First, there are papers in Russia which have been the subject of
several studies. Second, there is previously unstudied material in St
Catherine's. This consists partly of correspondence and other
papers which have been there since the events in question. There is
also a set of papers which were copied in June 1940. There was at
that time still a White Russian embassy in Cairo, and the monastery
had copies made of the documents held there which related to
Codex Sinaiticus. We are no longer dependent upon later reports by
Tischendorf and others.
Moreover, we have available a new document which allows the
history of Codex Sinaiticus to be studied from a fresh perspective.
This is the agreed account between the four partners in the Codex
Sinaiticus Project. It is a text which, in its own words, recognizes that
the events are not fully known: ‘hence, they are susceptible to widely
divergent interpretations and recountings that are evaluated
differently as to their form and essence. Although they have not
come to a full accord over the recent history of the Codex, the four
collaborating institutions offer the present, common, agreed text as
the basis of a common formulation, as a framework of historical
reference that may be completed by yet further documents, and as
a basis for dialogue and the interpretation of events'. The following
account draws on the full range of documentation, viewing it in the
light of this courageous and far-sighted achievement.
p. 138
COPYING THE MANUSCRIPT
In the first place, Tischendorf wanted to transcribe the manuscript.
Affairs at this point were confused by the fact that a new archbishop
was to be elected. The Prior, the only person with the authority to
allow him to borrow it for this purpose, had left for Cairo.
Tischendorf received permission for the loan and sent off a Bedouin,
who returned in nine days with the manuscript. Once the
manuscript was in Cairo, Tischendorf was able to borrow a quire
at a time to make the transcription.
Meanwhile, the process of installing a new archbishop was not
proving straightforward. The nominee was Cyril, to be the second
archbishop of that name. The consecration had to be carried out by
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who was opposed to Cyril’s appoint-
ment. The difficulties arising out of this situation had both an
immediate and a more lasting influence. To start with, they compli-
cated the process of making a transcription of the manuscript. They
were also an important factor in the chain of events which led to the
presentation of the manuscript to the Tsar. They have also been
responsible for some of the subsequent misunderstandings and
controversy surrounding this presentation.
It needs to be stated again that Tischendorf s goal was to produce
printed editions of ancient manuscripts, so as to preserve their
contents for posterity. The edition of Codex Sinaiticus was a
continuation of the project he had set himself at the beginning
of his career:
In the first place my object is to collect the few manuscripts of the text of
the New Testament written before the tenth century and lying dispersed
through the libraries of Europe, and print them verbatim. This collection
of originals, which would comprise thirty to forty volumes, appears to me
on one side to present a far safer foundation for the learned critics of the
text of all ages than the comparison of lists of various readings; and on the
other side I consider it in itself a valuable possession for the Christian
church.
p. 139
The most important task for him was therefore to record the
contents. This he set out to do at once in Cairo:
The time was now come boldly and without delay to set to work to a task
of transcribing no less than a hundred and ten thousand lines, - of which
a great number were difficult to read, either on account of later cor-
rections, or through the ink having faded, - and that in a climate where
the thermometer during March, April, and May, is never below 770 in the
shade. No one can say what this cost me in fatigue and exhaustion.
According to his son-in-law, Tischendorf accomplished the task in
two months, with the assistance of two Germans resident in Cairo,
a doctor and a chemist (in some accounts they are an apothecary
and a bookseller). Their role was to copy out the manuscript, and
Tischendorf checked their work. No doubt they achieved a great
deal. But why docs Tischendorf’s own account go on to state that
when in September he took the manuscript as a loan to St
Petersburg, it was ‘there to have it copied as accurately as possible'?
And that it was to take a further three years to complete ‘the
laborious task of producing a facsimile copy of this codex in four
folio volumes'? Is it true that in those two months in Cairo they
transcribed the whole manuscript? Or at any rate, that what they
produced was more than the rough beginnings of a transcription?
The experience of the Digital Project (building on a hundred and
fifty years of research) suggests that eight weeks might serve to
produce some sort of a version of some of the manuscript, but not
an accurate copy of the whole.
But it is the outcome that matters, and the facsimile edition is
a wonderful achievement, transferring the manuscript into book
form, with layout and font intended to represent those of the
manuscript, and with detailed notes describing the corrections.
Tischendorf not only had to make a transcription, he had to
ascertain the number of scribes, allocate the text to each, and do
the same for all the correctors. Areas where he was at fault
have already been mentioned. But on the whole he laid safe
See Plate 15
p. 140
foundations for subsequent research. The triumphant denouement
came when
In the month of October, 1862,1 repaired to St. Petersburg to present this
edition to their Majesties. The Emperor, who had liberally provided the
cost, and who approved the proposal of this superb manuscript appearing
on the celebration of the Millenary Jubilee of the Russian empire, has
distributed impressions of it throughout the Christian world, which,
without distinction of creed, have expressed their recognition of its
value.
PRESENTATION TO THE TSAR
(skip for now - includes Uspensky (Uspenski)
Wc may put the matter into context by telling the story
of Tischendorf’s Russian equivalent, Archimandrite Porphyry
Uspenski (also baptised Constantin). Uspenski visited St Catherine’s
shortly after Tischendorf's first visit. He saw the manuscript, and
it appears that Tischcndorf's success in becoming the one whose
name was most closely associated with it came to rankle him. In 1863
he published a bad-tempered attack on the manuscript, observing
that ‘the people looked affectionately on the relic of Sinaitic
antiquity, and kissed it devoutly, knowing nothing of its heretical
origin, neither perceiving any foul odour from it’. (The supposed
heresy is due to the text’s differences from the Byzantine text of later
centuries.) Although this attack has the odour of sour grapes about
it, it did not need Tischendorf’s equally ill-tempered rejoinder
against the ‘dirty controversy of a stupid and fanatical monk, who is
p. 141
full of absurd petty jealousy*. But this is only one part of the
relationship between the two men. In 1862 Uspenski was extremely
generous in sharing his finds with Tischendorf, who wrote warmly
of his generosity and their cordial dealings.
Skip St. Petersburg - loan etc
p. 142
For the next three years, Tischendorf examined the manuscript in
St Petersburg regularly while making the edition. On 29 October
1862, he passed it over to the Russian authorities, at the point at
which he presented his edition to the Tsar and Tsarina. The manu-
Then Archbishop Cyril
p. 147
Traditionally, interpretations of the story have centred around
Tischendorf, treating him either as hero or as villain. The extensive
SOURCES AND FURTHER READING
p. 148
The book by Tischendorf’s son-in-law is L. Schnellcr, Search on Sinai.
The Story of Tischendorf s Lije and the Search for a Lost Manuscript, London:
Epworth Press, 1939
are by Dr Fyssas, with a few re-phrasing?. Note that Dr Zakharova's
translation of the Synaxis' letter at http://www.nlr.ru/cng/exib/Codex
Sinairicus / zah / 3_5 html differs slightly from the version above in its
interpretation of the penultimate clause.