Dictionarium
Morale

This catalogue entry provided by M.R. James for our ‘Dictionarium Morale’ (Clare College, Fellows’ Library, MS 20) appears distinctly unpromising, but could there be more to this late 15^th century manuscript than meets the eye?

Although ‘ugly’ is a strong word, this book is indeed composed entirely of tree diagrams. The trunk bears a core concept (“peace,” “life of Christ,” etc.), which is then expanded upon in the upper branches, leaves, and fruits. Some of the more ‘floral’ shapes leave space only for a single word per petal, while the largest fruits hold entire paragraphs.

The use of tree diagrams was already firmly established in manuscript practices by the time the ‘Dictionarium Morale’ was made. One of the oldest documented uses was in genealogy – a medieval example being the tree of Jesse, showcasing Christ’s ancestry.[2] By the early 12^th century, they were also used as hierarchical representations of the different Christian virtues and vices.

Finally, trees could serve as means to memorise information in a more digestible, searchable form.[3] This would be particularly helpful for homiletic compilations – books designed to help preachers compose their sermons – and this may be what we are witnessing here.[4] Such a use would explain the appearance of references on some leaves, the general moral and religious topics of the manuscript, as well as the subject of the longest piece of marginalia: a passage on the early life of Christ.

However, we cannot say for certain what this book was used for, knowing very little about its pre-College history. We can tell from watermarks that its paper is akin to an example found in France and Italy in the last quarter of the 15^th century,[5] however, this does not indicate that the manuscript was produced in either of these countries, as paper travelled steadily from the continent into England at the time.[6]

Early former owners include a ‘William,’ and a ‘Thomas Ellis’ (who added the handwritten anecdote on the folio illustrated above). Another inscription, ‘maister Watkinson,’ is more ambiguous – did Watkinson himself add it, or did a pupil decide to immortalise him on fol.153? We have not, thus far, been able to identify any of these men formally – but if their handwriting looks familiar, please do get in touch!

Another clue, already highlighted by M.R. James, is a potential Yorkshire connection: there is a copy of an early 16^th century legal document on the last flyleaf concerning someone living at Colling [i.e. Cowling], in the county. On the reverse of the document, we can find the 17^th century donation inscription from the scholar who presented this book to the College: Barnabas Oley (1602-1686).

Oley matriculated at Clare in 1618, and was made a Fellow in 1623, until his expulsion in 1644 when, as a royalist, he allegedly failed to show himself to the ‘Committee for Scandalous Ministers.’ He would not return to Clare until 1660. Having been re-established into his posts, he made the decision to leave the College again in 1663, but despite this he was still considered as potential new Master of the College in 1678.[7] In addition to his gift of books to the College, his will included 100 marks (over two years’ worth of a skilled tradesman’s wage) for the building of a new College Library.[8]

Oley’s gifts are emblematic of the place of books and libraries in College life. Despite the age of the manuscript at the time it was presented, the location of the inscription (at the back) and its lack of the flourishes we sometimes find in our other books seem to indicate that it was not there for prestige, but for use. For young College members to continue engaging in learning practices that had begun centuries before they came to Clare. Now, over three hundred years later, it carries Barnabas Oley’s legacy as a man who placed scholarship at the heart of his life both within and beyond Clare College.