The ‘Who’ of Manuscript Recipe Books: Tracing Professional Scribes

The ‘Who’ of Manuscript

In this article, I aim to explore the idea that women were professionally involved in the making of manuscript recipe books, and show that the lack of archival or bibliographical material concerning female employment does not necessarily prove that women did not work in this area. 1Three eighteenth-century manuscript recipe books from South Germany or Austria, written in the Upper German written language and held by Austrian libraries, form the basis of the search for professional female scribes. 2 One of the volumes gives clear evidence of a professional female scribe penning the book and the other two imply that professionals had been commissioned.The appearance of words penned in Antiqua, as used in printed books, deserves special notice and will be discussed in connection with the educational level a scribe would need to be able to perform such a task. 3 will furthermore touch upon the situation of working women in general, and subsequently draw on examples of women working as paid and unpaid copyists and scribes in the eighteenth-century, to provide a context for the so-far unproven theory that women have penned manuscript recipe books for a fee.The tradition of manuscript recipe books being made for weddings, confirmations or other important dates in the life of a woman justifies the idea that money was spent to provide such a present, for example, if time was scarce and no family member could take over the task. 4he theory that female scribes made manuscript recipe books for a fee, without being part of the owner's family, has been discussed in English-and Germanlanguage countries for several years. 5In German-speaking countries, professional (secular) female scribes are documented in the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth century, for example, women who worked as 'schryversen' (clerks) or 'tolnersen' (tax collectors) in fourteenth-century Cologne, or Clara Hätzlerin in fifteenthcentury Augsburg, who worked as a professional scribe (Hätzlerin is documented between 1452 and 1476 in Augsburg tax books) and possibly even owned and ran The 'Who' of Manuscript Recipe Books: Tracing Professional Scribes a scriptorium. 6With regard to the eighteenth century, the possibility of women carrying out commissioned work has been mentioned, but has not actually been proved through material evidence so far. 7he idea of women not writing their books on their own, but actually outsourcing the labour of writing to somebody else for a certain (and probably inordinately high) amount of money, is based on contemporary remarks on the matter.The introduction to the first volume of the Sammlung vieler Vorschriften (also called 'Göppinger Kochbuch', comprising three volumes), published in 1785 by Christine Knoer, wife of the Göppingen town clerk Karl Friedrich Knoer, provides some evidence for their character as fashionable prestige objects and also for their economic implications. 8Knoer justifies her decision to publish with the fact that she had been encouraged by friends to bring out a cookery book which 'has been tested and is suitable for future cooks and members of the middle classes, and which can help to avoid the huge effort or the high costs which have to be invested in copying, because hardly any woman wants to be without a cookery book [i.e., a book of recipes they can refer to].' 9 Thomas Gloning sees the emphasis on the 'huge effort' or the 'high costs' required to produce a handwritten cookery book as proof for the existence of professional male and female scribes.If the owner did not want to make the effort to write the book on their own, a professional scribe was commissioned to carry out the task for them. 10In doing so, a personalised book could be made, that was probably more expensive than a printed book, but exclusive and tailored to the customer's wishes.
Wendy Wall notes that it was common to hire professionals to transcribe texts or handle all kind of written correspondence; this makes it very likely that professional scribes were commissioned to create recipe collections too. 11However, she critically points out that in the case of seventeenth-century recipe collection, the involvement of (male) scribes had been assumed without actual evidence in the past and that in general too many manuscripts are seen as products of professionals. 12One of the reasons for this confusion might be the belief that the role of the manuscript recipe book in the household is well-known and does not deserve further study.In fact, research on manuscript recipe books, as well as the connection of domestic manuscripts to society, is still at the beginning.

Female Labour in the Eighteenth Century
The common belief that an eighteenth-century woman's place was exclusively in her home and that she did not participate in public life has proved to be short-sighted.In their studies on female labour in German-speaking countries, Richard van Dülmen and Christina Vanja point out that women were indeed part of the eighteenth-century urban economy. 13Although they had no official positions and no profession, women worked in the businesses of their fathers or husbands. 14hose who worked in the public were mostly active on the market (self-sustained widows and married women alike), even though they were not allowed to make contracts on their own.Women also worked as domestic servants (ideally until they could get married and establish a household on their own), washerwomen, seamstresses, spinners and errand runners.They often received little support from the church or the city authorities.Although their work was seen as less valuable, the early modern economy would not have been able to survive without their labour.In the rural household, female participation was even more important. 15For eighteenth-century England, Snell comes to a similar conclusion, listing an impressive range of occupations women would take, including book binders, pocketbook makers, sailors and butchers.He also mentions the 'sparse and scattered' literature on female employment, and the lack of attention given to the apprenticeship of girls in the eighteenth century. 16n his study on the female labour market in seventeenth-and eighteenthcentury London, Peter Earle points out that women were often 'casual, intermittent, or seasonal', and that those not being employed as servants or shop-runners usually did not work consistently throughout the whole year. 17In addition, the outcomes of the Gender and Work (GaW) research project, conducted by the Department of History at the University of Uppsala and aiming to explore the history of work performed by men and women in Sweden from 1550 to 1800, clearly show that the division of work was flexible between genders and that freelance or unpaid work (termed 'multiple employments') was very common.Female and male work did not exist in separate spheres, but rather in 'overlapping circles.' 18 With regards to occupations in the field of reading and writing, Earle notes that in the records he used for his study, 'six schoolteachers, one of whom doubled as a professional letter-writer, [and] five women who worked for their local church or parish as clerk' could be found. 19He concludes that 'the great majority of women were unable to work in 'male' trades and, since nearly three-quarters of women wanted to or had to work for a living, they necessarily competed intensely for the work which was left, much of it of a casual nature and none of it organized by gilds or livery companies', which resulted in very low wages for women. 20He adds that in the eighteenth century, it was not frowned upon but rather expected by society that women had not only to run their household, but also to work for their living -due to the 'low productivity and low earnings of the society' their participation was substantial for the family income. 21he question arises: why is female labour still underrated, if their contribution was so important?Earle mentions that some women might have helped their husbands without pay, therefore themselves not recognising their work as relevant, and that the court records did not note all occupations women were working in. 22He also points out that 'husbands as householders who provided information to the enumerators neglected to mention their wives' paid employment', and that part-time work was not clearly categorised as work. 23In her study on emigrated members of the Schwenkfelder sect, who fled Prussian Silesia in the first half of the eighteenth century and settled down in Pennsylvania, Christine Hucho mentions that women in general tended to marginalise their achievements out of the wish to be good Christian women, i.e., humble and modest model wives and mothers.Their husbands, however, did not shy away from announcing their accomplishments to the public. 24

Female Copyists
The Schwenkfelder women in Pennsylvania not only maintained their bonds to family members and friends back in Prussian Silesia through letter-writing, they also did their best to ensure that relevant material such as religious tracts would be available to the community.Hucho points out that printing would have been too expensive due to the small number of copies needed, which encouraged the community to copy important manuscripts by hand.Women actively participated in this business; eleven out of fifty-two identified copyists were female. 25Schwenkfelder children were taught from a young age how to read and write, and Hucho suggests that copying the manuscripts had in some cases a direct impact on the level of orthography and style the women showed in their letters.With regards to the aforementioned striving for modesty, although some of the women did sign the copies they made, their (in some cases substantial) contribution to the group's intellectual heritage was hardly ever mentioned. 26p to the first half of the nineteenth century, music was primarily disseminated through handwritten copies or through a 'mixed mode in which partbooks might need to be consolidated into a handwritten score, or a published score supplemented by handwritten parts'. 27Dexter Edge mentions that locally printed music editions were rather rare in late eighteenth-century Vienna.Due to the increasing demand of the professional classes and the second aristocracy, a mar-ket for 'freelance composers, performers and music teachers, as well as for music publishers, copyists and dealers' emerged.He notes that commercial music copying was not replaced by printing, but existed next to it, and that both forms of dissemination thrived in the 1780s. 28Accordingly, Thomas Hochradner points out that even well-established music publishers in German-speaking countries sold handwritten material made by copyists.He mentions that in the eighteenth century, the term 'copyist' was ambiguous and the only clear distinction could be drawn between professional copyists ('Berufskopisten', employed by residencies, publishers or institutions), who guaranteed quality, and casual copyists ('Gelegenheitskopisten'), who could be musicians generating additional income, or dilettantes. 29A. Peter Brown suggests that both men and women worked as copyists (or scribes, as Brown calls them), often not exclusively for a publisher, but also freelance for several firms or customers at the same time. 30Alan Tyson tells of how, after the death of one of Beethoven's preferred copyists, Wenzel Schlemmer, his wife Josepha continued to 'have some things copied for Beethoven,' and that she also 'farmed out the work to other copyists'. 31The copyists of the imperial court and the Viennese court theatres, such as Johann Andreas Ziß and his wife Theresia (referred to as 'Zissin'), sold their work to various courts and opera houses. 32Michael Talbot mentions in his study Vivaldi's Venice that in the eighteenth century, four charitable institutions for orphaned, illegitimate or otherwise disadvantaged girls existed.The Pietà, the most famous of the four institutions, was supported by the state and housed about 1000 inmates in 1738.Interestingly, in documents, the female inmates are always referred to as 'girls', although several women remained at the Pietà into middle age, often because they wished to continue to work as professional musicians instead of getting married or retiring into a nunnery (both options automatically excluding them from the stage, unless they were singers). 33Due to the high prices of printed music in eighteenth-century Italy, professional copyists made and sold manuscript copies, and the Pietà deployed two 'girls' for this work. 34o Tomita examines, in his excellent study on Anna Magdalena Bach's activity as Bach's copyist, to what extent she can be seen as a professional.He points out that musicologists often see Anna Magdalena (in a rather patronising manner) as deeply devoted to her husband, copying his work with greatest care and accuracy, and even losing herself so much in her loving submission that her handwriting became similar to his. 35After close examination of the material, however, Tomita comes to the conclusion that the reasons behind Anna Magdalena's copying activities were more economic than romantic.Bach sold copies of his works, and although Anna Magdalena presumably cannot be counted towards Bach's regular copyists, she was the person Bach could rely on if it was urgent.Although she might not have been an experienced and flawless copyist, Bach certainly valued her work highly and without her, the family workshop would not have thrived. 36irsten Beißwenger suggests that maybe even the eldest daughter, Catharina Dorothea, worked as a copyist in the family workshop. 37t can be seen that women contributed substantially to the financial well-being of their households.As mentioned in the general discussion of female labour, women very often worked casually or seasonally, and the music industry of the eighteenth century proves to be no exception.Besides court copyists such as Theresia Ziß, or contributors to the family workshop such as Anna Magdalena Bach, it is likely that many women used their writing skills on a freelance basis to either supplement the family income or make a living.
Without the ability to read and write, women could not make a living as scribes.Mastership of both skills was not necessarily given (not everybody who could read was also able to write), and the making of manuscript recipe books demanded an active, function-orientated activity, as Thompson points out. 38Given the high number of anonymous manuscript recipe books that are assumed to have been made by professionals, the question arises of what female education looked like in eighteenth-century German-speaking countries, and especially in Austria.In her study on English-language manuscripts, Wall indicates that the rates of literacy were actually higher than commonly assumed, but notes that manuscript recipe books are still underrated for the history of reading and writing. 39In studies on German-speaking countries, it is also still common consensus that women received only a rather basic education, and if they were not members of the upper classes (who were often mocked for being too sophisticated), reading and writing skills were poor. 40When dealing with texts from the South German and Austrian territories, scholars often do not take into account the differences between the Upper German written language and the East Middle German written language that finally became the standard, and this almost inevitably leads to a severe underestimation of the educational level of the writers. 41In the case of manuscript recipe books, it must also be taken into account that the scribes sometimes had to write from dictation, or copied recipes written in a very old-fashioned language. 42

Female Scribes in Austrian Manuscript Recipe Books
Turning to manuscript recipe books and the question of the skills needed to act as a scribe, it can be said that indeed a certain amount of education was necessary to produce a manuscript, especially one that could act as prestige object for the owner.Not only was neat handwriting important, including the ability to keep in line and to manage the spacing and the layout, but so too were advanced reading skills and the ability to produce a consistent text without spoiling the pages by having to erase too many writing errors.This also means that the scribe had to be experienced and needed enough time to perform the task.Hans Ramge points out that a scribe had to be able to deploy the special text patterns and phrasing of which recipe texts consist, and in consequence, be able to read and to write. 43he Upper German written language used in the manuscripts could lead towards the assumption that the educational level of the scribes would have been low; as the aforementioned studies show, this is not the case and has to be considered when analysing material from this language area.All three examples discussed in this section show the typical characteristics of Upper German written language, as well as inconsistent spelling due to the hardly regulated orthography of that time.
The first example, a manuscript held by the State Library of Upper Austria, dated 1733 and owned (probably also penned) by a professional scribe, Maria Catharina Lebmer, could be a first step towards evidence of women being professionally involved in the making of manuscript recipe books. 44On the cover outside, the word 'Kochbuech' clearly defines the purpose of the book; on fol.1r, a beautifully calligraphed title page reads: 'Kochbuech / Vor Maria Catharina Leb-/ merin Pflegſhreiberin zu / Fridtburg, gſhriben / anno.1733.' 45 The word 'Vor' in the title makes it clear that Lebmer owned the manuscript, but due to the reference to herself being a 'Pflegschreiberin', it is very likely that she penned it as well.The manuscript has mainly been written by a single hand (64 folio pages out of 66 in total); the writing is very skilled and does not drop in quality up to fol.64v. 46Overall, only very few insertions and corrections can be seen; the book is remarkably well-written.The recipes are for the most part organised in groups, indicating that the material serving as a template was sorted in advance and afterwards penned in the book. 47It is indeed possible that this book was made by Maria Catharina Lebmer for herself; this task would have been fairly easy for a professional scribe like her.The beauty of the object gives the impression of a pre-planned fair copy, made for a special occasion; due to the little space the main scribe left at the end of the volume, it did not 'grow' over time and was not meant to be expanded afterwards by other members of the household.As mentioned in the paragraph discussing female labour, women tended to downplay their achievements compared to their male counterparts, who claimed attention for their work, as several manuscript recipe books from Austria and England show. 48Lebmer Title Page Hs.-190, Kochbüech, Maria Catharina Lebmer, 1733 (Oberösterreichische Landesbibliothek, Linz, Austria, PURL: http://digi.landesbibliothek.at/viewer/resolver?urn=urn:nbn:at:AT-OOeLB-710349).
pointing out her profession in the title of her manuscript raises the question of whether she penned the manuscript, and maybe even made such books for other women on a commissioned basis. 49he following two manuscripts discussed in this section indicate that scribes were involved in their making.The first example, manuscript number 1963, dated 1818, is held by the Graz University Library and was purchased in 1913. 50The manuscript consists of 86 folio pages, and three recipe leaves are glued to the inside of the back cover. 51The date can be found on fol.1r and was penned by the main scribe.There are no names provided that could give clues about the makers or owners of the manuscript, only the cryptic abbreviations 'K.i. d. e. h.ü. c. e.' and 'I : N : V' on fol.1v, as well as a silhouette glued on the inside of the front cover showing a 'middle-aged women' (maybe the owner, as Zotter and Zotter suggest, although there is little evidence for this claim) and a miraculous image (Gnadenbild) from Mariazell in Styria glued on the inside of the back cover. 52nton Kern's manuscript catalogue does not give much information about the manuscript except the measurements, cover, and type; slightly more about the recipes and the physical appearance of the manuscript can be found in the online catalogue provided by the Graz University Library and a 1979 exhibition catalogue. 53Up to fol.85v, the manuscript has been written by one hand (presumably in one work-step), providing a title page and a frontispiece in the front and a register, giving the dishes both under the recipe name and the main ingredient, in the back.The writing style is thoroughly (up to fol.85v) clear and neat, giving the impression that the scribe was skilled.The writing space is well kept and there are hardly any deletions or corrections.The careful make of the volume, reminiscent of eighteenth-century printed luxury editions, the use of Antiqua and the material remains on the pages (sand to dry the ink) can be seen as a clear indicator that the manuscript was never actually used or kept directly in the kitchen, and maybe also for the involvement of a professional scribe. 54ith regards to the educational level of the scribe, the mixture of German Kurrentschrift and Antiqua used in the volume could provide evidence that a professional or at least very skilled person was involved in making the manuscript, although it has to be noted that it is not a sign of a low education if Antiqua was not used, as the manuscript penned by Lebmer shows. 55The words given in Antiqua, such as 'Ciocolate' (chocolate), on fol.6r, probably denote that the term was known, but recognised as not German. 56This can be deduced from the fact that the use of Antiqua was standard practice to highlight foreign words in both printed and handwritten texts of that time (practised by men and women); in prints, Antiqua script was used for foreign words and Fraktur or Gothic type for the German text. 57Therefore, the emphasised words found in handwritten culinary texts give a useful clue that the scribe at least identified the Latin, Italian, French or Spanish words (languages spoken by the nobility in eighteenth-century Austria) as foreign, a knowledge that was probably based on the reading of printed texts. 58Luxury goods, such as chocolate or coffee, were actually consumed on a wide basis in eighteenth-century Austria, even by the middle and lower classes. 59Truly unfamiliar words are usually written by ear, probably not identified as foreign and subsequently not given in a different script. 60he second example, which also gives the impression of having been penned by a professional scribe due to its calligraphic writing and careful planning, is a fascinating volume in many respects.The manuscript is dated 1759-1798 and held by the Library of the Oberösterreiches Landesmuseum. 61It is in very good condition, naming the owner on a beautifully calligraphed title page as 'Maria Roßalia Mayrwalterin' and giving the date 1759.Above the name, another entry can be found, claiming that the book belongs to 'Josepha Schramlin', giving the date 31 st July 1798.It may be presumed that Josepha Schraml either belonged to Mayrwalter's family and inherited the book, or purchased it.The manuscript consists of 263 folio pages, numbered and framed until page 492; the last 17 folio pages contain an index.The first part of the book includes mainly culinary recipes up until page 399.On page 401, a calligraphic headline identifies the section as 'Raitt-Büchel' (arithmetic book), and this section stretches over 86 folio pages.The arithmetic book includes lessons and examples for addition, subtraction, multiplication, etc.The index stretches over 13 folio pages and is titled with 'Register / Aller deren in disen Buch Begriffenen / Warmen Speissen, welche nach ihrn / gezaichneten Numero Leicht / Zu finden seindt' (index of all warm dishes in this book, which can be easily found by following the [page] number).The index seems to be complete and planned.The sources of this arithmetic book are unclear, but it is possible that a printed book served as a blueprint or was entirely copied.The coin values (1 Taler = 90 Kreuzer, 1 Gulden = 60 Kreuzer, page 443) were introduced by Austria under Maria Theresia's rule together with Bavaria in 1753, showing that the arithmetic book was probably not copied from a German book (in Germany, the Groschen instead of the Kreuzer was used). 62he whole volume seems to be written by one hand; the recipe section and the arithmetic part both show calligraphic headlines, skilled handwriting and hardly any corrections; on first examination, no later entries, marks or comments can be found.It is possible that the volume was made by a commissioned professional scribe, thus possibly also acting as a prestige object or a gift of love; what the material certainly tells us is that this book was not used by Maria Roßalia Mayrwalter or Josepha Schraml for any form of life-writing or notes. 63

Conclusion
The three manuscripts discussed in the study indicate the work of professional female scribes, one employed in an administrative office and others who probably occasionally bettered the household income through freelance work.The use of Antiqua in connection with the educational level and the calligraphic skills a scribe would need, with special consideration of the Upper German written language, could be a useful clue in the question of whether the anonymous volumes were made by professionals.With regards to the employment situation of the women discussed in this article, it is necessary to ask how a 'trained' scribe could be defined in general.Wall raises the question of whether this definition would include 'men and women informally trained at home who sought to cultivate an elegant hand to obtain patronage, courtly reward, or commercial gain' or 'those amateurs to whom writing manuals were addressed.' 64Given that many female scribes and copyists worked casually or freelance, Wall's comment invites us to actually re-think the idea of a scribe in connection with manuscript recipe books.If we move away from thinking in probably-too-narrow categories, such as 'professional equals full-time employment' and 'amateur equals casual or freelance', it might be easier to accept that many of the skilled hands were probably semi-professionals, contributing towards the household income through part-time work, after having learned the basics of writing in school or at one of the many unofficial teachers and perfecting their handwriting at home.Given that even members of the upper or middle classes were not always skilled writers and let professionals pen important documents, such a division of labour seems plausible. 65Such semiprofessional scribes might have been approached from time to time to make a fair copy of an old and fragile volume, a loose collection of paper slips, or to compose a new volume including selected recipes.

Notes
1.The idea that women worked as commissioned scribes can be attributed to Heike Gloning's article on manuscript recipe books from the seventeenth and eighteenth century.See Heike Gloning, 'Handschriftliche Frauenkochbücher des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts als

Summary: The 'Who' of Manuscript Recipe Books: Tracing Professional Scribes
The idea that female scribes -probably members of the middle or upper-classes -made manuscript recipe books for a fee, without being part of the owner's family, has been discussed in English-and German-language countries for several years.The tradition of making manuscript recipe books for weddings and other important dates in the life of a woman justifies the idea that money was spent to provide such a present, for example, if time was scarce.If the owner did not want to make the effort to write the book on their own, a professional scribe was commissioned to carry out the task for them.In doing so, a personalised book could be made, that was probably more expensive than a printed book, but exclusive and tailored to the customer's wishes.Three Austrian manuscripts examined in this study serve as a first attempt to reflect about the possibility of female scribes, drawing on examples of women working as paid and unpaid copyists and scribes in the eighteenth-century.One of the volumes gives clear evidence of a professional female scribe penning the book and the other two imply that professionals had been commissioned.Keywords: eighteenth-century Austria, manuscript recipe books, manuscript cookery books, manuscript cookbooks, female scribes, professional scribes