For the arrangement of the rest of the Library, the Accounts give a most important piece of information. They tell us that the whole of the seats for the Common Library, i.e. the Latin and Greek Libraries taken together, 25 in number, cost 300 ducats, of which sum the 10 long seats above mentioned absorbed 130 ducats, leaving 170 to pay for the remaining 15. From these data it is not difficult to calculate the cost of each palm, and from that the number of palms that 170 ducats would buy. I make this to be 510 palms, or about 373 feet[401].

It is, I think, obvious that there must have been some sort of vestibule just inside the door of entrance, where students could be received, and where they could consult the catalogue or the Librarian. Further, the catalogues shew that the seven desks arranged in this part of the Library were in all probability shorter than those of the opposite side, for they contained fewer volumes. If we allow each of them 21 ft. 4 in. in length, we shall dispose of 149 ft., which leaves 224 ft. for the 8 desks of the Greek Library, or 28 ft. for each, with one foot over.

Greek Library. In this room there were eight seats, and, as explained above, each was about 28 ft. long. The room being 28 ft. wide, this number, with a width of 3 ft. for each, is very convenient, and leaves a passage 4 ft. wide along the west wall. The length, moreover, does not interfere with the passage from door to door, and leaves a short interval between the ends of the desks and the opposite wall.

Inner Library. In this room space has to be provided for (1) six seats, each holding on an average about 30 volumes; (2) a press (armarium) with five divisions, and holding 938 volumes; (3) a settle (spalera); (4) 12 chests or coffers (capsae).

I have placed the armarium at the end of the room, opposite the window. In this position it can be allowed to be 20 ft. in width with 5 divisions, each, we will suppose, about 4 ft. wide. Let us suppose further that it was 7 ft. high, and had 6 shelves. If we allow 8 volumes to each foot, each shelf would hold 32 volumes, and each division six times that number, or 192. This estimate for each division will give a total of 960 volumes for the five divisions, a number slightly in excess of that mentioned in Platina's catalogue.

After allowing a space 5 ft. wide in front of the press, there is plenty of room left for 6 desks, each 21 ft. long. I have placed the spalliera, with its four coffers (capsae) under the seat, below the window. This piece of furniture, in modern Italian spalliera, French epauliere, is common in large houses at the present day. It usually stands in an ante-room or on a landing of one of the long staircases. A portion at least of the spalliere used in this Library are still in existence. They stood in the vestibule of the present Vatican Library until a short time ago, when the present Pope had them removed to the Appartamento Borgia, where they stand against the wall round one of the rooms. There are two distinct designs of different heights and ornamentation. The photograph here reproduced (fig. 100) was taken specially for my use. The spalliere have evidently been a good deal altered in the process of fitting up, and moreover, as it is impossible to discover whether we have the whole or only a part of what once existed, it is useless to make any suggestion, from the length of the portions that remain, as to which room they may once have fitted. They are excellent specimens of inlaid work. That on the right, with the row of crosses along the cornice, is 6 ft. 2 in. high, and 66 ft. long. That on the left is 5 ft. 10 in. high, and 24 ft. 7 in. long. The capsae project from the wall 1 ft. 4 in., and are 2 ft. high. Their lids vary a little in length, from 3 ft. 11 in. to 4 ft. 10 in.



But the presence of a spalliera is not the only peculiarity in the furniture of this room. Platina's catalogue shews that, connected in some manner with each seat, were two coffers (capsae): and we have seen that 12 such chests were brought into the Library in 1481. I have placed these in pairs at the ends of the desks opposite the settle (spalliera).

Innermost Library, or Bibliotheca pontificia. This Library contained 12 desks. These, from their number, must have stood east and west. There was also a spalliera, which held the Papal Registers. I have placed it in the recess on the north side of the room, which looks as though made for it.

It should be noted that there was a map of the world in the Library, for which a frame was bought in 1478[402]; and a couple of globes—the one celestial, the other terrestrial. Covers made of sheepskin were bought for them in 1477[403]. Globes with and without such covers are shewn in the view of the Library of the University of Leyden taken in 1610 (fig. 69); and M. Fabre reminds us that globes still form part of the furniture of the Library of the Palazzo Barberini in Rome, fitted up by Cardinal Francesco Barberini, 1630-40[404].

Comfort was considered by the provision of a brazier on wheels "that it may be moved from place to place in the Library[405]."

The following curious rule, copied, as it would appear, in the Library itself, by Claude Bellievre of Lyons, who visited Rome about 1513, shews that order was strictly enforced:

Nonnulla quae collegi in bibliotheca Vaticani. Edictum S. D. N. Ne quis in bibliotheca cum altero contentiose loquatur et obstrepat, neve de loco ad locum iturus scamna transcendat et pedibus conterat, atque libros claudat et in locum percommode reponat. Ubique volet perlegerit. Secus qui faxit foras cum ignominia mittetur atque hujusce loci aditu deinceps arcebitur[406].

Before concluding, I must quote an interesting description of this Library by Montaigne:

Le 6 de Mars [1581] je fus voir la librerie du Vatican qui est en cinq ou six salles tout de suite. Il y a un grand nombre de livres ataches sur plusieurs rangs de pupitres; il y en a aussi dans des coffres, qui me furent tous ouverts; force livres ecris a mein et notamment un Seneque et les Opuscules de Plutarche. J'y vis de remercable la statue du bon Aristide[407] a tout une bele teste chauve, la barbe espesse, grand front, le regard plein de douceur et de mageste: son nom est escrit en sa base tres antique....[408]

Je la vis [la Bibliotheque] sans nulle difficulte; chacun la voit einsin et en extrait ce qu'il vent; et est ouverte quasi tous les matins, et si fus conduit partout, et convie par un jantilhomme d'en user quand je voudrois[409].

Sixtus IV. intended the library attached to the Holy See to be of the widest possible use. In the document appointing Demetrius of Lucca librarian, after Platina's death, he says distinctly that the library has been got together "for the use of all men of letters, both of our own age, or of subsequent time[410]"; and that these are not rhetorical expressions, to round a phrase in a formal letter of appointment, is proved by the way in which manuscripts were lent out of the library, during the whole time that Platina was in office. The Register of Loans, beginning with his own appointment and ending in 1485, has been printed by Muentz and Fabre, from the original in the Vatican Library[411], and a most interesting record it is. It is headed by a few words of warning, of which I give the general sense rather than a literal translation.

Whoever writes his name here in acknowledgment of books received on loan out of the Pope's library, will incur his anger and his curse unless he return them uninjured within a very brief period.

This statement is made by Platina, librarian to his Holiness, who entered upon his duties on the last day of February, 1475[412].

Each entry records the title of the book lent, with the name of the borrower. This entry is sometimes made by the librarian, but more frequently by the borrower himself. When the book is returned, Platina or his assistant notes the fact, with the date. The following entry, taken almost at random, will serve as a specimen:

Ego Gaspar de Ozino sapientissimi domini nostri cubicularius anno salutis MCCCCLXXV die vero XXI Aprilis confiteor habuisse nomine mutui a domino Platina Lecturam sive commentum in pergameno super libris X Etticorum Aristotelis, et in fidem omnium mea propria manu scripsi et supscripsi. Liber autem pavonatio copertus est in magno volumine.——Idem Gaspar manu propria.——Restituit fideliter librum ipsum et repositus est inter philosophos die XXVIII April 1475.

It is occasionally noted that a book is lent with its chain, as for instance:

Christoforus prior S. Balbine habuit Agathium Historicum ex banco viii^o cum cathena.... Restituit die XX Octobris post mortem Platyne.

When no chain is mentioned are we to understand that the book was not so protected, and that there were in the library a number of books without chains, perhaps for the purpose of being more conveniently borrowed?

A few words should be added on the staff of the library. At first—that is during the year 1475—Platina had under his orders three subordinates, Demetrius, Salvatus, and John. These are called writers (scriptores) or keepers (custodes); and Salvatus is once called librarian (librarius), but it will be shewn below that this word means a writer rather than a librarian, as we understand the word. The position of these persons was extremely humble; and Salvatus was so indigent that his shoes were mended at the Pope's expense, and a decent suit of clothes provided for him at the cost of eight ducats[413]. Besides these there was a bookbinder, also called John. In the following year two keepers only are mentioned, Demetrius and Josias. The latter died of the plague in 1478. The salary of the librarian was at the rate of ten ducats a month, and that of each of his subordinates at the rate of one ducat for the same period. This arrangement appears to have been confirmed by a Bull of Sixtus IV. before the end of 1477[414].

These officers and Platina appear to have lived together in the rooms adjoining the Latin Library, as shewn by the accounts for the purchase of beds, furniture, and the like[415]; and when Josias falls ill of the plague, Platina sends away Demetrius and John the bookbinder, "for fear they should die or infect others[416]."

All articles required for the due maintenance of the library were provided by Platina. The charges for binding and lettering are the most numerous. Skins were bought in the gross—on one occasion as many as 600—and then prepared for use. All other materials, as gold, colours, varnish, nails, horn, clasps, etc., were bought in detail, when required; and probably used in some room adjoining the library. Platina also saw to the illumination (miniatio) of such MSS. as required it.

Comfort and cleanliness were not forgotten. There are numerous charges for coals, with an amusing apology for their use in winter "because the place was so cold"; and for juniper to fumigate (ad suffumigandum). Brooms are bought to clean the library, and fox-tails to dust the books (ad tergendos libros[417]).

It should further be mentioned that Sixtus assigned an annual income to the library by a brief dated 15th July, 1477. It is therein stipulated that the fees, paid according to custom by all officials appointed to any office vacated by resignation, should thenceforward be transferred to the account of the library[418].

While Sixtus IV. was thus engaged in Rome, a rival collector, Federigo da Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino (1444—1482), was devoting such leisure as he could snatch from warfare to similar pursuits. The room in which he stored his treasures is practically unaltered. It differs materially in arrangement from the other libraries of the same period. This difference is perhaps due to its position in a residence which was half palace, half castle. It is on the ground floor of a building which separates the inner from the outer court. It measures 45 ft. in length, by 20 ft. 9 in. in width. The walls are about 14 ft. high to the spring of the barrel-vault which covers the whole space. There are two large windows at the north end of the room, and one at the south end. These are about 7 ft. from the ground. The original entrance was through a door into the inner court, now blocked. In the centre of the vault is a large eagle in relief with F.D. on each side of its head; round it is a wreath of cherubs' heads: and outside of all a broad band of flames and rays. The vault is further decorated with isolated flames, gilt, on a white ground[419].

The books are said to have occupied eight presses, or sets of shelves, set against the east and west walls, but our information on the subject of the fittings is provokingly meagre. It is chiefly contained in the following passage of a description written by Bernardino Baldi, and dated 10 June, 1587. Baldi, as a native of Urbino, and in later life attached to the service of the Duke, must have been well acquainted with the room and its contents.

La stanza destinata a questi libri e alia mano sinistra di chi entra nel Palazzo contigua al vestibolo, o andito ... le fenestre ha volte a Tramontana, le quali per esser alte dal pavimento, ed in testa della stanza, e volte a parte di cielo che non ha sole, fanno un certo lume rimesso, il quale pare col non distraer la vista con la soverchia abbondanza della luce, che inviti ed inciti coloro rhe v'entrano a studiare. La state e freschissima, l' inverno temperatamente calda. Le scanzie de' libri sono accostate alle mura, e disposte con molto bell' ordine.

In questa fra gli altri libri sono due Bibbie, una latina scritta a penna e miniata per mano di eccellentissimi artefici, e l' altra Ebrea antichissima scritta pure a mano ... Questa si posa sopra un gran leggivo d' ottone, e s' appoggia all' ale d' una grande aquila pur d' ottone che aprendole la sostiene. Intorno alle cornici che circondano la libreria si leggono scritti nel fregio questi versi[420].

In the preface to the catalogue of the library published at Rome in 1895, the author, after quoting the above passage, adds "There were eight presses each containing seven shelves"[421]. The architectural decorations have all disappeared, with the exception of a fragment of a pediment at the south end of the room, on which F. E. DVX is still visible. The lectern is in the choir of the cathedral.

The Biblioteca Laurenziana, or Medicean Library, at Florence, is the last Italian library which I intend to describe.

After the death of Pope Leo X. in 1521, his executor Cardinal Giulio dei Medici, afterwards Pope Clement VII., restored to Florence the books which their ancestors had got together, and commissioned Michelangelo to build a room for their reception. The work was frequently interrupted, and it was not until 1571 (11 June) that the library was formally opened.

The great architect, supported by the generosity of the Pope, constructed an apartment which for convenience and for appropriate decoration stands alone among libraries. It is raised high above the ground in order to secure an ample supply of light and air, and is approached by a double staircase of marble. It is 151 ft. 9 in. long, by 34 ft. 4 in. broad, and was originally lighted by 15 windows in each of the side-walls at a height of about 7 ft. 6 in. from the floor. There is a flat roof of wood, carved; and a pavement of terra-cotta consisting of yellow designs on a red ground.

When the room was first fitted up there were 44 desks on each side, but when the reading-room was built at the beginning of the last century, four were destroyed. This reading-room also blocks four windows. The glass was supplied by Giovanni da Udine in 1567 and 1568. The subjects are heraldic. In each window the arms of the Medici occupy a central position, and are surrounded by wreaths, arabesques, and other devices of infinite grace and variety, in the style which the genius of Raphael had introduced into the Vatican.



The bookcases (fig. 101) are of walnut-wood, a material which is said to have been prescribed by the Pope himself. They were executed, if we may believe Vasari[422], by Battista del Cinque and Ciapino, but they are now known to have been designed by Michelangelo. A rough outline in one of his sketch-books, preserved in the Casa Buonarotti at Florence with other relics illustrating his life, and here reproduced (fig. 102), unquestionably represents one of these desks. The indication of a human figure on the seat proves the care which he took to ensure a height convenient for readers.



These desks are on the same general plan as those at Cesena, but they are rather higher and more richly ornamented. Each is 11 ft. 3 in. long, and 4 ft. 4 in. high. It must be admitted that the straight back to the reader's seat is not so comfortable as the gentle slope provided in the older example. A frame for the catalogue hangs on the end of each desk next the central alley. In order to make clear the differences in the construction of the desks at Cesena and at Florence I append an elevation of each (figs. 103, 104).



It will be seen from the view of one of the desks (fig. 101) that the books either lie on the sloping desk or are packed away on the shelf under it. There is an average of 25 books on each desk. The chains, as at Cesena, are attached to the lower edge of the right board, at distances varying from 2 in. to 4 in. from the back of the book (fig. 105). The staple is sunk into the wood.



The chains are made of fine iron bars about one-eighth of an inch wide, but not quite so thick, flattened at the end of each link, and rounded in the centre, where a piece of the same iron is lapped round, but not soldered. Each chain (fig. 106) is 2 ft. 3 in. long. So far as I could judge all the chains in the library are of the same length. There is a ring at the end of the chain next to the bar, but no swivel.



The ironwork by which these chains are attached to the desk is somewhat complicated. By the kindness of the librarian, Signor Guido Biagi, I have been allowed to study it at my leisure, and to draw a diagrammatic sketch (fig. 107) which I hope will make it clear to my readers. The lock is sunk in the central support of the desk. The bar passes through a ring on each side of this support, and also through a ring near each end of the desk. These rings are fixed to the lower edge of the desk just under the molding. A flat piece of iron is forged on to the bar near the centre. This iron is pierced near the key-hole with an oblong slit through which passes a moveable piece of iron, here shewn in outline of its actual size (fig. 108). The bolt of the lock passes through a hole in this piece, and holds the bar firmly in its place.



The bar is not quite so long as the desk; consequently, when it has been unlocked, and the iron bolt sketched above withdrawn, it can be turned round by taking hold of the central iron, and pushed to the right or to the left, past the terminal rings. The chains can then be readily unstrung, or another strung upon the bar.

In the next chapter I shall describe the changes in Library arrangements adopted during the period which succeeded the Middle Ages; but, before ending this present chapter, there are a few points affecting the older libraries and their organization to which I should like to draw attention.

In the first place all medieval libraries were practically public. I do not mean that strangers were let in, but even in those of the monasteries, books were let out on the deposit of a sufficient caution; and in Houses such as S. Victor and S. Germain des Pres, Paris, and at the Cathedral of Rouen, the collections were open to readers on certain days in the week. The Papal library and those at Urbino and Florence were also public; and even at Oxford and Cambridge there was practically no objection to lending books on good security. Secular corporations followed the example set by the Church, and lent their manuscripts, but only on security. A very remarkable example of this practice is afforded by the transaction between the Ecole de Medecine, Paris, and Louis XI. The king wanted their copy of a certain work on medicine; they declined to lend it unless he deposited 12 marks worth of plate and 100 gold crowns. This he agreed to do; the book was borrowed; duly copied, and 24 January, 1472, restored to the Medical Faculty, who in their turn sent back the deposit to the king[423].

As a general rule, these libraries were divided into the lending library and the library of reference. These two parts of the collection have different names given to them. In the Vatican Library of Sixtus IV. we find the common library (Bibliotheca communis) or public library (B. publica), and the reserved library (B. secreta). The same terms were used at Assisi. At Santa Maria Novella, Florence, there was the library, and the lesser library (B. minor). In the University Library, Cambridge, there was "the public library" which contained the more ordinary books and was open to everybody, and "the private library" where the more valuable books were kept and to which only a few privileged persons were admitted[424]. At Queens' College, in the same university, the books which might be lent (libri distribuendi) were kept in a separate room from those which were chained to the shelves (libri concatenati), and at King's College there was a public library (B. magna) and a lesser library (B. minor). In short, in every large collection some such division was made, either structural, or by means of a separate catalogue[425].

I have shewn that two systems of bookcases, which I have called lectern-system and stall-system, were used in these libraries; but, as both these have been copiously illustrated, I need say no more on that part of the subject. Elaborate catalogues, of which I have given a few specimens, enabled readers to find what they wanted in the shortest possible time, and globes, maps, and astronomical instruments provided them with further assistance in their studies. Moreover in some places the library served the purpose of a museum, and curiosities of various kinds were stored up in it.

No picture of a medieval library can be complete unless it be remembered that in many cases beauty was no less an object than utility. The bookcases were fine specimens of carpentry-work, carved and decorated; the pavement was of encaustic tiles worked in patterns; the walls were decorated with plaster-work in relief; the windows were filled with stained glass; and the roof-timbers were ornamented with the coat-armour of benefactors.

Of these embellishments the most distinctive was the glass. At St Albans the twelve windows contained figures illustrating the subjects of the books placed near them. For instance, the second window represented Rhetoric and Poetry; and the figures selected were those of Cicero, Sallust, Musaeus, Orpheus. Appropriate verses were inscribed beneath each. The whole scheme recalls the library of Isidore, Bishop of Seville, which I have already described[426]. In the library of Jesus College, Cambridge, each light contains a cock standing on a globe, the emblem of Bishop Alcock the founder, with a label in his beak bearing a suitable text, and under his feet an inscription containing half the designation required. For instance, the first two bookcases contained works on Physic, and in the window is the word PHI-SICA divided between the two lights[427]. In Election Hall at Eton College—a room originally intended for a library—we find the Classes of Civil Law, Criminal and Canon Law, Medicine, etc., illustrated by medallions shewing a church council, an execution, a physician and his patient, and the like[428]. At the Sorbonne, Paris, the 38 windows of the library were filled with the portraits of those who had conferred special benefits on the college[429]; at Froidmont[430] near Beauvais the authors of the Voyage Litteraire remark the beautiful stained glass in the library: and in Bishop Cobham's library at Oxford, according to Hearne, there "was brave painted glass containing the arms of the benefactors, which painted glass continued till the times of the late rebellion[431]."

Lastly, I will collect the different terms used to designate medieval bookcases. They are—arranged alphabetically—analogium, bancus or banca, descus, gradus, stallum, stalla, stallus or staulum, and sedile. I have sometimes thought that it would be possible to determine the form of the bookcase from the word used to describe it; but increased study has convinced me that this is impossible, and that the words were used quite loosely. For instance, bancus designates the cases in the Vatican Library which represent a variety of the lectern-system; and its French equivalent banc the cases at Clairvaux which were stalls with four shelves apiece. Again "desk" (descus) is used interchangeably with "stall" (stallum) in a catalogue of the University Library, Cambridge, dated 1473, to designate what I strongly suspect were lecterns; in 1693 by Bishop Hacket when describing the stalls which Dean Williams gave to the library at Westminster Abbey[432]: and in 1695 by Sir C. Wren to describe bookcases which were partly set against the walls, partly at right-angles to them.

It has been already shewn that gradus means a shelf, or a lectern, or a side of a lectern[433]; and sedile is obviously only the Latin equivalent for "seat," which was sometimes used, as at S. John's College, Cambridge, in 1623[434], to designate a bookcase. It was also used at Christ Church, Canterbury, for what I have shewn to be a stall with four shelves[435]. The word analogium was used in France to signify a lectern[436]. The word "class" (classis) is used at the University Library, Cambridge, in 1584, instead of the ancient "stall," and afterwards superseded it entirely. For instance, when a Syndicate was appointed in 1713 to provide accommodation for Bishop Moore's Library, the bookcases are described as Thecae sive quas vocant classes. Gradually the term was extended until it reached its modern signification, namely, the shelves under a given window together with those on the sides of the bookcases to the right and left of the spectator facing it[437].

We sometimes meet with the word distinctio. For instance, an Apocalypse in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, which once belonged to St Augustine's College, Canterbury, is noted as having stood "distinctione prima gradu tertio"; and the same word is used in the introduction to the catalogue of Dover Priory to signify what I am compelled to decide was a bookcase. The word demonstratio, on the other hand, which occurs at the head of the catalogue of the library of Christ Church, Canterbury, made between 1285 and 1331, probably denotes a division of subject, and not a piece of furniture.

Until the lectern-system had gone out of fashion, a word to denote a shelf was not needed. When shelves had to be referred to, textus[438] was used at Canterbury, and linea[439] at Citeaux. On the other hand, at Saint Ouen at Rouen, this word indicates a row of bookcases, probably lecterns. In a record of loans[440] from that library in 1372 and following years, the books borrowed are set down as follows (to quote a few typical instances):

Item, digestum novum, linea I, E, II. Item, liber de regulis fidei, cum aliis, linea III, L, VIII. Item, Tulius de officiis, linea II a parte sinistra, D, II.

These extracts will be sufficient to shew that the cases were arranged in three double rows, each double row being called a linea. Each lectern was marked with a letter of the alphabet, and each book with the number of the row, the letter of the lectern to which it belonged, and its number on the lectern. Thus, to take the first of the above entries, the Digest was to be found in the first row, on lectern E, and was the second volume on the said lectern. It is evident that there was a row of lecterns on each side of a central alley or passage, and that a book was to be found on the right hand, unless the left hand was specially designated.

A catalogue has been preserved of the books in the castle of Peniscola on the east coast of Spain, when the anti-pope Benedict XIII. retired there in 1415. They were kept in presses (armaria), each of which was subdivided into a certain number of compartments (domuncule), each of which again contained two shelves (ordines)[441]. I suggest that this piece of furniture resembled, on a large scale, Le Chartrier de Bayeux, which I have already figured (fig. 26).

In conclusion, I will quote a passage in which the word library designates a bookcase. It occurs in an inventory of the goods in the church of S. Christopher le Stocks, London, made in 1488:

On the south side of the vestrarie standeth a grete library with ij longe lecturnalles theron to ley on the bokes[442].

I need hardly remind my readers that the French word bibliotheque has the same double meaning.

FOOTNOTES:

[356] Catalogus Codicum Manuscriptorum Malastestianae Caesenatis bibliothecae fratrum minorum fidei custodiaeque concreditae.... Auctore Josepho Maria Mucciolo ejusdem ordinis fratre et Ravennatis coenobii alumno. 2 vols. fol. Caesenae, 1780-84.

[357] These measurements were taken by myself, with a tape, in September, 1895.

[358] The desk bearing a single volume shewn on this seat (fig. 93) is modern.

[359] These measurements were taken by myself with a tape, in April 1898, and verified in April 1899.

[360] This catalogue is in the State Archives at Modena.

[361] I visited Monte Oliveto 19 April, 1899.

[362] See Ueber Mittelalterliche Bibliotheken, v. T. Gottlieb. 8vo. 1890, p. 181. I have twice visited Assisi and examined the Catalogue here referred to. My best thanks are due to Professor Alessandri for giving me every assistance in my researches.

[363] Inprimis facimus inventarium de libris in libraria publica ad bancos cathenatis in hunc modum. Et nota, quod omnia folia omnium librorum, qui sunt in isto inuentario sive per sexternos vel quinternos aut quaternos seu quemvis per alium numerum majorem vel minorem omnes quotquot sunt, nomina quaternorum tenent, ut apparet in quolibet libro in primo quaterno in margine inferiori; quare omnes sunt ante et retro de nigro et rubeo per talem figuram intus cum suo numero signati. Item lictere alphabeti, qui desuper postes ponuntur, omnes debent esse aliquantulum grosse et totaliter nigre, sicut inferius in fine cuiuslibet libri signatur. The spots round this figure are alternately black and red.

[364] Ducange s. v. solarium shews that occasionally it =armarium.

[365] I have to thank Father C. J. Ehrle, S. J., Prefect of the Vatican Library, for the very great kindness with which he has assisted me in these researches during three visits to Rome in 1898, 1899, 1900; and also the officials who allowed me to examine parts of the palace not usually accessible to strangers.

Further, I wish it to be clearly and distinctly understood that my researches are based upon an essay by M. Paul Fabre, La Vaticane de Sixte IV., which had appeared in the Milanges d'Archeologie et d'Histoire of the Ecole Francaise de Rome for December 1895, but of the existence of which I had never heard until Father Ehrle shewed it to me. On reading it, I found that M. Fabre had completely anticipated me; he had done exactly what I had come to Rome to do, and in such a masterly fashion that I could not hope to improve upon his work. After some consideration I determined to verify his conclusions by carefully examining the locality, and to make a fresh ground-plan of it for my own use. I have also studied the authorities quoted by M. Eugene Muentz (Les Arts a la Cour des Papes) from my own point of view.

There are two works to which I shall frequently refer: Les Arts a la Cour des Papes pendant le xv^e et le xvi^e siecle, par Eugene Muentz: Part III. 1882 (Bibl. des Ecoles Francaises d'Athenes et de Rome, Fasc. 28): and La Bibliotheque du Vatican au xv^e Siecle, par Eugene Muentz et Paul Fabre; Paris, 1887 (Ibid. Fasc. 48). The former will be cited as "Muentz"; the latter as "Muentz et Fabre." My paper, of which an abstract only is here given, has been published in the Camb. Ant. Soc. Proc. and Comm. 6 March 1899, Vol. X. pp. 11-61.

[366] This document, dated 17 December, 1471, has been printed by Muentz, p. 120. I am afraid that this order can have but one meaning: viz. the excavation and destruction of ancient buildings.

[367] This is the date assigned by Platina himself. See below, p. 231.

[368] MS. Vat. Lat. 3947, fol. 118 b. Notatio omnium librorum Bibliothecae palatinae Sixti quarti Pont. Max. tam qui in banchis quam qui in Armariis et capsis sunt a Platyna Bibliothecario et Demetrio Lucense eius alumno custode die xiiii. mensis Septemb. M.CCCC.LXXXI facta. Ante vero eius decessum dierum octo tantummodo. This Notatio has been printed, Muentz et Fabre, p. 250, but without the catalogue to which it forms an appendix. This, so far as I know, still remains unprinted.

[369] Muentz et Fabre, pp. 148-150, passim.

[370] Ibid. p. 32.

[371] Ibid. p. 141. The catalogue is printed pp. 159-250.

[372] MS. Vat. 5008.

[373] These accounts, now preserved in the State Archives at Rome, have been printed with great accuracy (so far as I was able to judge from a somewhat hasty collation) by Muentz, Les Arts a la Cour da Papes, Vol. III. 1882, p. 121 sq.; and by Muentz and Fabre, La Bibliotheque du Vatican au xv^e Siecle, 1887, p. 148 sq.

[374] The entries referring to these purchases are given in full, with translations, in my paper above referred to.

[375] The name is derived from the frescoes with which its external walls were decorated during the reign of Pius IV. (1559-1565). They represented palm trees, on which parrots (papagalli) and other birds were perching. Fragments of these frescoes are still to be seen. The court beyond this "del Portoncin di Ferro" was so called from an iron gate by which the passage into it from the Cortile del Papagallo could be closed.

[376] The difference of level between the floor of the court and the floor of the library is eighteen inches. An inclined plane of wood now replaces the steps.

[377] Item pro purganda bibliotheca veteri et asportandis calcinaciis duarum fenestrarum factarum inter graecam et latinam b. XX die qua supra, i.e. 20 Aug. 1480. Muentz, p. 132.

[378] A Foundling Hospital, alluding to the Ospedale di Santo Spirito founded by Sixtus IV.

[379] Fabre, La Vaticane, p. 464. Bunsen, Die Beschreibung der Stadt Rom, ed. 1832, Vol. II.. Part 2, p. 418.

[380] The following entry is curious: Habuere Paulus et Dionysius pictores duos ducatos pro duobus paribus caligarum quas petiere a domino nostro dum pingerent cancellos bibliothecae et restituerent picturam bibliothecae graecae, ita n. Sanctitas sua mandavit, die xviii martii 1478. Muentz, p. 131.

[381] Fabre, La Vaticane, p. 465, citing Bandini, Bibliothecae Mediceo-Laurentianae catalogus, I. p. xxxviii.

[382] Enumeravi, praesente Clemente synescalcho familiae s. d. n., Salvato librario, et Demetrio lectore, ducatos XLV Francischo fabro lignario mediolanensi habitatori piscinae urbis Romae pro banchis Bibliothecae conficiendis, maxime vero decem quae ad sinistram jacent, quorum longitudo est XXXVIII palmorum, vel circa, et ita accepta parte pecuniarum, cujus summa est centum et XXX ducatorum, facturum se debitum promittit et obligat, die XV Julii 1475. Muentz, p. 121.

[383] Item solvi eidem ducatos XXX pro reliquo XXV banchorum bibliothecae: pro longioribus autem qui sunt X solvebantur centum et triginta, ut supra scriptum est; pro reliquis solvebantur centum et septuaginta; quae summa est tricentorum ducatorum: atque ita pro banchis omnibus ei satisfactum est, die VII Junii 1476. Muentz, p. 126. The rest of the money had been paid to him by instalments between 15 July, 1475, and this date.

[384] Magister Joanninus faber lignarius de Florentia habuit a me Platyna s. d. n. bibliothecario pro fabrica banchorum Bibliothecae secretae, pro Armario magno et Spaleria ejusdem loci, quae omnia extimata fuerunt centum et octuaginta ducat' a magistro Francisco de Mediolano; habuit, ut praefertur, ducatos sexaginta quinque et bononenos sexaginta die VII maii 1477. Muentz, p. 130. There were 100 bononeni in each ducat.

[385] Habuit ultimo ducatos octo pro tribus tabulis ex nuce cornisate (?) ad continenda nomina librorum e per le cornise de tre banchi vechi ex nuce die supradicta; nil omnino restat habere ut ipse sua manu affirmat, computatis in his illis LX bononenis qui superius scribuntur. Muentz, p. 130.

[386] Dedi Joanni pictori famulo m. Melotii pro pictura trium tabularum ubi descripta sunt librorum nomina carlenos XVIII die X Octobris 1477. Ibid., p. 131.

[387] Item pro XII capsis latis in bibliothecam secretam. Muentz et Fabre, p. 158.

[388] Magister Joanninus de Florentia et m. Marcus ejus frater faber lignarius habuere ducatos XXV pro parte solucionis banchorum quae fiunt in bibliotheca addita nunc a S^mo. d. nostro, die XVIII Julii 1480. Muentz, p. 134.

[389] Muentz, pp. 124-126.

[390] Magister Joannes fabricator catenarum habuit a me die XIIII aprilis 1477 ducatos decem, ad summam centum et quinque ducatorum quos ei debebam pro tribus miliaribus et libris octingentis ferri fabrefacti ad usum bibliothecae, videlicet pro quadraginta octo virgis ferreis ad quas in banchis libri connectuntur [etc.]. Muentz, p. 128.

[391] Ibid., p. 127.

[392] Ibid., p. 135.

[393] MSS. Vat. 3947.

[394] MSS. Vat. 7135.

[395] La Vaticane, etc., p. 475.

[396] MS. Vat. 3946.

[397] MS. Vat. 3948.

[398] For an account of what Sixtus accomplished at Santo Spirito see Pastor, History of the Popes, Eng. Tran. IV. 460-462.

[399] Brockhaus, Janitschek's Repertorium fuer Kunstwissenschaften, Band VII. (1884); Schmarsow, Melozzo da Forli (1886), pp. 202-207.

[400] I have taken 1 palm = metre 0.223; and 1 metre = 39.37 in.

[401] My calculation works out as follows. Each of 10 seats was 38 palms long: total length, 380 palms. As these 10 seats cost 130 ducats, each palm cost 130/380 ducats = 1/3 a ducat nearly.

As the total paid was 300 ducats, this first payment, viz. 130 ducats, left 170 ducats still due for the 15 remaining seats. As each palm cost a third of a ducat, 170 ducats would buy 510 palms = 113.73 metres = 4477 inches (nearly) = 373 feet.

[402] Per lo tellaro del mappamondo b. 52. Muentz, p. 129. Habuere pictores armorum quae sunt facta in duabus sphaeris solidis et pro pictura mappemundi ducatos III, die XII decembris 1477. Muentz et Fabre, p. 151. This map had probably been provided by Pius II. (1458-1464), who kept in his service Girolamo Bellavista, a Venetian maker of maps. Muentz et Fabre, 126.

[403] Expendi pro cobopertura facta duobus sphaeris solidis quarum in altera est ratio signorum, in altera cosmographia, ducatos IIII videlicet cartenos XVI in octo pellibus montoninis, cartenos XXV in manifactura; sunt nunc ornata graphio cum armis s. d. n., die XX decembris 1477. Muentz el Fabre, p. 152. M. Fabre quotes an extract in praise of the map and globes from a letter written from Rome in 1505, La Vaticane de Sixte IV., p. 471 note.

[404] Ibid.

[405] Muentz, p. 130.

[406] Bibl. Nat. Paris, MSS. Lat. 13123, fol. 220, quoted by Muentz et Fabre, p. 140.

[407] This statue, found in Rome in the middle of the sixteenth century, represents Aristides Smyrnaeus, a Greek rhetorician of the second century after Christ. It is still in the Vatican Library, at the entrance to the Museo Cristiano.

[408] In the omitted passage Montaigne describes a number of books shewn to him.

[409] Journal du voyage de Michel de Montaigne en Italie, ed. Prof. Alessandro d' Ancona. 8vo. Citta di Castello, 1895, p. 269. I owe this quotation to M. Fabre.

[410] Muentz et Fabre, p. 299.

[411] Ibid., pp. 269-298. MSS. Vat. Lat. 3964.

[412] Quisquis es qui tuum nomen hic inscribis ob acceptos commodo libros e bibliotheca pontificis, scito te indignationem ejus et execrationem incursurum nisi peropportune integros reddideris. Hoc tibi denuntiat Platyna, S. suae bibliothecarius, qui tantae rei curam suscepit pridie Kal. Martii 1475.

[413] Dedi die XIII Septembris 1475 ducatum unum Salvato scriptori pro emendis calligis. Item expendi pro veste una Salvati scriptoris seminudi et algentis ducatos XIII de mandato sancti domini nostri. Muentz et Fabre, p. 148.

[414] Habui ego Platyna sanctissimi domini nostri bibliothecarius ducatos triginta pro salario meo, quod est decem ducatorum in mense, ab idibus Julii usque ad idus Octobris 1477, quemadmodum apparet in bulla de facultatibus officiis et muneribus a sanctissimo domino nostro papa Sixto IIII facta. Ibid. p. 150.

[415] Muentz, pp. 129, 133.

[416] Item dedi ducatos quinque pro quolibet Demetrio et Johanni ligatori librorum quos ex mandato domini nostri foras misi, mortuo ex peste eorum socio, ne ipsi quoque eo loci interirent vel alios inficerent, die VIII junii 1478. Muentz et Fabre, pp. 153.

[417] The entries alluded to in this account will all be found in Muentz and Fabre, pp. 148-158.

[418] The document is printed by Muentz and Fabre, p. 300.

[419] I visited Urbino for the purpose of studying this library 28 April, 1900.

[420] Memorie concernenti la Citta di Urbino. Fol. Rome, 1724, p. 37. See also Vespasiano, Federigo Duca d' Urbino; ap. Mai, Spicilegium Romanian, I. pp. 124-128; Dennistoun, Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino, 8vo. 1851, I. pp. 153-160. The duties of the librarian, which remind us in many particulars of those of the monastic armarius, are translated by Dennistoun (p. 159) from Vat. Urb. MSS. No. 1248, f. 58.

[421] Codices Urbinates Graeci Bibl. Vat. 4to. Rome, 1895, p. 12. For this statement, the writer cites Raffaelli, Imparziale istoria dell' unione delta Biblioteca ducale di Urbino alia Vaticana di Roma. Fermo, 1877, p. 12.

[422] Vasari, ed. 1856, vol. XII. p. 214.

[423] Franklin, Anc. Bibl. de Paris, II. 22.

[424] This statement rests on the authority of Dr Caius, Hist. Cant. Acad. p. 89. Cum duae bibliothecae erant, altera priuata seu noua, altera publica seu vetus dicebatur. In illa optimi quique; in hac omnis generis ex peiori numero ponebantur. Illa paucis, ista omnibus patebat.

[425] Arch. Hist. III. p. 401.

[426] See above p. 45. Dr James has printed the verses from Bodl. MSS. Laud. 697, fol. 27, verso, in Camb. Ant. Soc. Proc. and Comm. VIII. 213.

[427] The whole series is given in Arch. Hist. III. p. 461.

[428] I quote this account of the glass at Eton from Dr James, ut supra, p. 214.

[429] De Lisle, Cabinet de Manuscrits, vol. II. p. 200.

[430] Voyage Litteraire, ed. 1717, II. 158.

[431] Bliss, Reliquiae Hearnianae, II. 693; ap. Macray, Annals, p. 4.

[432] See above, p. 188.

[433] See Index.

[434] Arch. Hist. Vol. II. p. 270.

[435] See above, p. 192.

[436] See Index.

[437] Arch. Hist. Vol. III. p. 30. Conyers Middleton, Bibl. Cant. Ord. Meth. Works, Vol. III. p. 484.

[438] See above, p. 192.

[439] See above, p. 105.

[440] Du pret des livres dans l' abbaye de Saint Ouen, sous Charles V. par L. Delisle. Bibl. de l' Ecole des Chartes, ser. III. Vol. I. p. 225. 1849.

[441] Le Librairie des Papes d' Avignon, par Maurice Faucon, Tome II. p. 43, in Bibl. des Ecoles Francaises d'Athenes et de Rome, Fasc. 50.

[442] Archaeologia, Vol. 47, p. 120. I have to thank my friend Mr P. T. Micklethwaite, architect, for this quotation.



CHAPTER VII.

CONTRAST BETWEEN THE FIFTEENTH AND SIXTEENTH CENTURIES. SUPPRESSION OF THE MONASTERIES. COMMISSIONERS OF EDWARD VI. SUBSEQUENT CHANGES IN LIBRARY FITTINGS. S. JOHN'S COLLEGE, AND UNIVERSITY LIBRARY, CAMBRIDGE. QUEEN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD. LIBRARIES ATTACHED TO CHURCHES AND SCHOOLS. CHAINING IN RECENT TIMES. CHAINS TAKEN OFF.

I have now traced the evolution of the bookcase from a clumsy contrivance consisting of two boards set at an angle to each other, to the stately pieces of furniture which, with but little alteration, are still in use; and I hope that I have succeeded in shewing that the fifteenth century was emphatically the library-era throughout Europe. Monasteries, cathedrals, universities, and secular institutions in general vied with each other in erecting libraries, in stocking them with books, and in framing liberal regulations for making them useful to the public.

To this development of study in all directions the sixteenth century offers a sad and startling contrast. In France the Huguenot movement took the form of a bitter hostility to the clergy—which, after the fashion of that day, exhibited itself in a very general destruction of churches, monasteries, and their contents; while England witnessed the suppression of the Monastic Orders, and the annihilation, so far as was practicable, of all that belonged to them. I have shewn that monastic libraries were the public libraries of the Middle Ages; more than this, the larger houses were centres of culture and education, maintaining schools for children, and sending older students to the Universities. In three years, between 1536 and 1539. the whole system was swept away, as thoroughly as though it had never existed. The buildings were pulled down, and the materials sold; the plate was melted; and the books were either burnt, or put to the vilest uses to which waste literature can be subjected. I will state the case in another way which will bring out more clearly the result of this catastrophe. Upwards of eight hundred monasteries were suppressed, and, as a consequence, eight hundred libraries were done away with, varying in size and importance from Christ Church, Canterbury, with its 2000 volumes, to small houses with little more than the necessary service-books. By the year 1540 the only libraries left in England were those at the two Universities, and in the Cathedrals of the old foundation. Further, the royal commissioners made no attempt to save any of the books with which the monasteries were filled. In France in 1789 the revolutionary leaders sent the libraries of the convents they pillaged to the nearest town: for instance, that of Citeaux to Dijon; of Clairvaux to Troyes; of Corbie to Amiens. But in England at the suppression no such precautions were taken; manuscripts seem to have been at a discount just then, for which the invention of printing may be to some extent responsible; their mercantile value was small; private collectors were few. So the monastic libraries perished, save a few hundred manuscripts which have survived to give us an imperfect notion of what the rest were like.

How great the loss was, has probably been recorded by more than one writer; but for the moment I can think of nothing more graphic than the words of that bitter protestant John Bale, a contemporary who had seen the old libraries, and knew their value. After lamenting that "in turnynge ouer of y^e superstycyouse monasteryes so lytle respect was had to theyr lybraryes for the sauegarde of those noble and precyouse monumentes" (the works of ancient writers), he states what ought to have been done, and what really happened.

Neuer had we bene offended for the losse of our lybraryes beynge so many in nombre and in so desolate places for the most parte, yf the chiefe monumentes and moste notable workes of our excellent wryters had bene reserued.

If there had bene in every shyre but one solempne lybrary, to the preseruacyon of those noble workes, it had bene yet sumwhat. But to destroy all without consydyracyon is and wyll be vnto Englande for euer a moste horryble infamy amonge the graue senyours of other nacyons. A greate nombre of them whych purchased those superstycyouse mansyons, reserued of those bokes some to ... scoure theyr candelstyckes, and some to rubbe theyr bootes. Some they sold to the grossers and sopesellers, and some they sent ouer see to the boke bynders, not in small nombre, but at times whole shyppes full, to the wonderynge of the foren nacyons. I know a merchaunt man which shall at this tyme be namelesse, that boughte the contentes of two noble lybraryes for. xl. shyllynges pryce, a shame it is to be spoken. This stuffe hath he occupyed in the stede of graye paper by the space of more than these .x. yeares, and yet he hath store ynough for many yeares to come[443].

The Universities, though untouched by the suppression, were not allowed to remain long at peace. In 1549, commissioners were sent by Edward the Sixth to Oxford and Cambridge. They considered that it fell within their province to reform the libraries as well as those who used them; and they did their work with a thoroughness that under other circumstances would have been worthy of commendation. Anthony Wood[444] has told us in eloquent periods, where sorrow struggles with indignation, how the college libraries were treated; how manuscripts which had nothing superstitious about them except a few rubricated initials, were carried through the city on biers to the market-place and there consumed. Of the treatment meted out to the public library of the University he gives an almost identical account[445]. This library—now the central portion of the Bodleian—had been completed about 1480. It was well stocked with manuscripts of value, the most important of which, in number about 600[446], had been given by Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, between 1439 and 1446. His collection was that of a cultivated layman, and was comparatively poor in theological literature. Yet in this home of all that was noble in literature and splendid in art (for the Duke's copies are said to have been the finest that could be bought) did this crew of ignorant fanatics cry havoc, with such fatal success that only three MSS. now survive; and on January 25, 1555-56, certain members of the Senate were appointed "to sell, in the name of the University, the book-desks in the public library. The books had all disappeared; what need then to retain the shelves and stalls, when no one thought of replacing their contents, and when the University could turn an honest penny by their sale[447]?"

I suppose that in those collegiate and cathedral libraries of which some fragments had been suffered to remain, the gaps caused by the destruction of manuscripts were slowly filled up by printed literature. No new bookcases would be required for many years; and in fact, nearly a century passed away before any novelty in the way of library-fittings makes its appearance. Further, when new libraries came to be built, the provision of suitable furniture was not easy. The old stall, with two shelves loaded with books attached to them by chains, and a desk and seat for the use of the reader, was manifestly no longer adequate, when books could be produced by the rapidity of a printing-press, instead of by the slowness of a writer's hand. And yet, as we shall see, ancient fashions lingered.

So far as I know, the first library built and furnished under these new conditions in England was that of S. John's College, Cambridge. This "curious example of Jacobean Gothic[448]" was built between 1623 and 1628, at the sole charge of Bishop Williams, whose work at Westminster during the same period has been already recorded. The site selected was the ground between the second court of the college and the river, the library-building being constructed as a continuation of the north side of that court, with the library on the first floor, and the chambers intended for the Bishop's Fellows and Scholars on the ground floor.

The room, after the fashion of the older libraries, is long and narrow, 110 ft. in length by 30 ft. in breadth. Each side-wall is pierced with ten lofty pointed windows of two lights with tracery in the head. The sills of these windows are raised 4 ft. above the floor, and the interval between each pair of windows is 3 ft. 8 in. There is also a western oriel, the foundations of which are laid in the river which washes its walls (fig. 109). The name of the founder is commemorated on the central gable by the letters I. L. C. S., the initials of Johannes Lincolniensis Custos Sigilli, the Bishop being at that time keeper of the Great Seal, or, as we should say, Lord Chancellor. The date 1624 marks the completion of the shell of the building[449].



The beautiful fittings (fig. 110), which are still in use, were completed before 1628. Medieval arrangement was not wholly discarded, but various modern features were introduced. The side-walls and window-jambs are panelled to a height of 8 ft.; and the cornice of this panel-work is continuous with that of the taller cases—which, as in the older examples, stand at right angles to the walls between each pair of windows. Before these fittings were constructed, chaining had been practically abandoned, so that it was not necessary to provide either desk or seat. In the place, therefore, of the reader's seat, a low bookcase was set in front of each window. These cases were originally 5 ft. 6 in. high, with a sloping desk on the top on which books could be laid for study. Stools also were provided for the convenience of readers. The larger cases or, as the building-account of the library calls them, "the greater seats," have been a good deal altered in order to accommodate more books. Originally the plinth ran round the sides of the case; as did also the broad member which is seen on the end above the arches. By this arrangement there were in all only four shelves, namely, one below the broad member and three above it. Further, there was a pilaster in the middle, below the central bracket. It should be noted that the medieval habit of placing a list of the books contained in each case at the end of the case is here maintained.

It might have been expected that these splendid cases would have invited imitation, and in those at Clare College the general style was undoubtedly copied. But, as I have already explained[450], those cases were originally genuine specimens of the stall-system, with desks. In other libraries, while a new style of bookcase was put up, we shall find no innovation comparable to that seen at S. John's. This was due, in great measure, to the medieval character of the rooms to be fitted up.

The library at Peterhouse was lengthened in 1633. It is 75 ft. long by 25 ft. broad, and each of its side-walls is pierced by a range of three-light windows. The cases (fig. 111) were put up between 1641 and 1648. Like those at S. John's, they stand at right angles to the walls between the windows, but they are detached, and not continuous with the panelwork. Originally they were just eight feet high, but have since been heightened to accommodate more books. Each case is still divided by a central pilaster. So far they do not present any striking peculiarity, but I wish to draw attention to a curious contrivance, which we shall find subsequently reproduced in various forms, though not exactly as it is seen here; for these cases were evidently admired, and imitated in several other colleges. The chains had been taken off the books at Peterhouse in 1593-94, when they were first moved into the new library; so that desks attached to the cases were not required. Nor were lower cases, with desks at the top of them, provided. But the convenience of the reader was considered, up to a certain point, by the provision of a seat, 12 in. wide and 23 in. high, extending along the side of each case, and returned along the wall between it and the case next to it. This arrangement may still be seen in the two compartments at the west end of the room, one on each side of the door of entrance. The ends of the seat or 'podium,' are concealed by boldly carved wings[451].



The convenience of this type of case was evidently recognised at once, for we find it copied, more or less exactly, in the south room of the University Library (1649); at Jesus College (1663); at Gonville and Caius College (1675); at Emmanuel College (1677); and at Pembroke College (1690).



The south room of the University Library, on the first floor, is 25 ft. wide and was originally 67 ft. long. It was lighted by eight windows in the north wall, and by nine windows in the south wall, each of two lights. There was also a window of four lights in the east gable, as we learn from Loggan's print, and probably a window in the west gable also[452]. It was entered by a door, in the north-east corner, approached by a "vice," or turret-stair. This door was fortunately left intact when the east building was erected in 1755. The room has been but little altered, and still preserves the beautiful roof, the contract for which is dated 25 June, 1466[453].

We do not know anything about the primitive fittings, but, having regard to the fact that the spaces between the windows are barely two feet wide, it is probable that they were lecterns. Moreover, a catalogue, dated 1473, enumerates eight stalls on the north side each containing on an average 21 books, and nine on the south side, each containing 18 books[454]. These numbers, compared with those mentioned above at Zutphen, indicate lecterns.

In the next century this room was assigned to teaching purposes, and the lecterns were either removed or destroyed. In 1645 the University petitioned Parliament to put them in possession of Archbishop Bancroft's library, which he, by will dated 28 October, 1610, had bequeathed to the Public Library of the University of Cambridge, should certain other provisions not be fulfilled. The request was granted, 15 February, 1647, and the books arrived in 1649. The room in question, then used as the Greek School, was ordered, 3 September, 1649, to be "fitted for the disposeall of the said books" without delay. The existing cases were supplied at once, for Fuller, writing in the following year, speaks of them with commendation[455]. Their exact date is therefore known.

These cases (fig. 112) are 8 ft. high from the floor to the top of the horizontal part of the cornice, and 22 in. broad. They have the central pilaster; but the seat has been cut down to a step, which is interrupted in the middle, so as to allow the central pilaster to rise directly from the ground. The wing, however, was too picturesque a feature to be discarded, so it was placed at the end of the step, and carried up, by means of a long slender prolongation, as far as the molding which separates the two panels on the end of the stall.

These cases were exactly copied at Gonville and Caius College; and again at Emmanuel College; but in both those examples the step is continuous. At Jesus College the same type is maintained, with the central pilaster and continuous step; but the work is extremely plain, and there is neither wing nor pediment. At Pembroke College there is a further modification of the type. The step disappears, and, instead of it, a plinth extends along the whole length of the case. The wing, however, remains, as a survival of the lost step, and helps to give dignity to the base of the standard, which is surmounted by a semicircular pediment, beneath which is a band of fruit and flowers in high relief[456].

I will now describe a very interesting bookcase at King's College, Cambridge (fig. 113), which was put up in 1659, with a bequest from Nicholas Hobart, formerly Fellow[457]. It remains in its original position in one of the chapels on the south side of the choir, which were used for library-purposes till the present library was built by Wilkins in 1825. It has several details in common with those at S. John's College, as originally constructed, and will help us to understand their aspect before they were altered. There is a lofty plinth, a broad member interposed between the first and second shelf, a central vertical pilaster; and, as at Peterhouse, and elsewhere, a step or 'podium' with a wing. But, with these resemblances to cases in which books are arranged as at present, it is curious to find the usual indications of chaining, which we know from other sources was not given up in this library until 1777. There are locks on the end of the case just below each of the two shelves, and scars on the vertical pilasters caused by the attachment of the iron-work that carried the bar. Further, just below the broad band, a piece of wood of a different quality has been inserted into the pilasters, evidently to fill up a vacancy caused by the removal of some part of the original structure, probably a desk or shelf.

The antiquary William Cole, writing in 1744, describes these chapels when used as libraries. Each chapel held five bookcases, "two at the extremities, which are but half-cases, and three in the body, of which the middlemost is much loftier than the rest." In the chapel fitted up by Hobart, Cole tells us that "at the end of the biggest middle class is wrote in gold letters LEGAVIT NICOLAUS HOBART 1659[458]." As the chapel is only 20 ft. long, the intervals between the cases could hardly have exceeded 2 ft., and as the books were chained they must have been consulted standing.



A similar return to ancient forms is to be found in the library of Queen's College, Oxford, begun in 1692. The architect is said to have been Nicholas Hawkesmoore, to whom the fittings, put up in the first fourteen years of the eighteenth century[459], are also ascribed. This library is 123 ft. long by 30 ft. wide. There are ten bookcases on each side at right angles to the walls between the windows. Each case is about 11 ft. high, and 2 ft. 6 in. wide; but, though their ornamentation is in the style of the period, of which they are splendid examples, their general design exactly reproduces the old type. In their original state they were provided with desks, though there is no evidence that the books were chained; they had only two shelves above that which was on the level of the top of the desk; and there was a double seat between each pair of cases. The space above the second shelf, between it and the cornice, was occupied by a cupboard, handsomely ornamented with carved panels, for small books or manuscripts[460]. In fact, the only innovation which the designer of these remarkable cases permitted himself to employ was to make the moldings of their cornices continuous with that of the panelwork which he carried along the sides of the room, and into the jambs of the windows. The space below the desk was utilised for books, but, as these were found to be inconvenient of access, the desks and seats were taken away in 1871, and dwarf bookcases provided in front of the windows.

When the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury built their library, now called the Howley-Harrison Library, in 1669-70, they constructed a room on strictly medieval lines. It is 65 ft. long by 21 ft. broad, with seven equidistant windows in the north wall and six in the south wall. The bookcases, which are plain medieval stalls, project from the walls at right angles between the windows.

There is another class of libraries which must be briefly mentioned in this chapter, namely, those connected with parish churches and grammar-schools. I suppose that after the destruction of monastic libraries all over the country, the dearth of books would be acutely felt, and that gradually those who had the cause of education at heart established libraries in central situations, to which persons in quest of knowledge might resort.



The library (fig. 114) at Grantham in Lincolnshire occupies a small room, 16 feet from north to south by 14 feet from east to west, over the south porch of the parish church, approached by a newel stair from the south aisle. It was founded in 1598 by the Reverend Francis Trigg, rector of Wellbourn; and in 1642, Edward Skipworth "out of his love and well-wishing to learning, and to encourage the vicars of Grantham to pursue their studies in the winter-time, gave fifty shillings, the yearly interest thereof to provide firewood for the library fire." From this language I conclude that the original gift of books was made for the benefit of the vicar for the time being.

There are three bookcases set against the walls, each about 6 ft. high and 6 ft. long. A considerable number of the books still bear their chains, which are composed of long flat links closely resembling those at Guildford, with a ring and swivel next to the bar. The library—room, bookcases, and books—was carefully restored and repaired in 1894[461].

At Langley Marye or Marish in Buckinghamshire near Slough, a library was founded in 1623 by Sir John Kederminster "as well for the perpetual benefit of the vicar and curate of the parish of Langley, as for all other ministers and preachers of God's Word that would resort thither to make use of the books therein." He placed it under the charge of the four tenants of his almshouses, who were to keep safe the books, and the key of the room, under stringent penalties[462].

The library is a small room on the south side of the church, entered through the squire's pew, to which there is a separate door in the south wall. The fittings are of an unusual character, and have been preserved unaltered. The whole room is panelled at a distance of 15 in. from the wall, so as to make a series of cupboards, in which the books are contained. The doors of these cupboards are divided into panels, alternately square and oblong. Each of the former contains a small figure painted in colours on a black ground; each of the latter a shield, or some heraldic device. The inner surface of these doors is similarly divided into panels, on each of which is painted an open book. Above the cupboards, just under the flat ceiling, is a series of more or less imaginary landscapes, doing duty as a frieze. Over the fireplace is a very beautiful piece of decoration consisting of a large oval shield with various coats of arms painted on it. It is set in an oblong panel, in the spandrels of which are painted seated figures of Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, with their emblems and suitable mottoes[463].

In 1629, the following entry occurs in what is called "the Church Book" of Cartmel, in Lancashire:

14 July, 1629. It is ordered and agreed upon that the churchwardens seate in the body of the churche shall be enlarged both in the wideness and in the deske that the bookes given unto the church may bee more convenientlie laid and chained to remain there according to the directions of the donors[464].

The will of Humphry Chetham, a wealthy merchant of Manchester, dated 16 December, 1651, directs L200 to be spent on certain specified books,

to be, by the discretion of my Executors, chained upon Desks, or to be fixed to the Pillars, or in other convenient Places, in the Parish Churches of Manchester and Boulton in the Moors, and in the Chapels of Turton, Walmesley, and Gorton, in the said County of Lancaster[465].

The bookcase at Gorton[466] is a cupboard of oak, 7 ft. long by 3 ft. high and 19 in. deep, raised upon four stout legs, 22 in. high. On opening the doors, the interior is seen to be divided into two equal parts by a vertical partition, and again by a horizontal shelf. The shelf and the partition are both 9 in. deep, so as to leave a considerable interval in front of them. The bars—of which there is one for each division—rest in a socket pierced in a small bracket screwed to each end of the case, in such a position that the bar passes just in front of the shelf. A flat piece of iron, nailed to the central division, carries a short hasp, which passes over the junction of the bars, and is there secured by a lock. By this arrangement no person could withdraw either bar without the key. The chains, of iron, tinned, are of the same type as those at Hereford, but the links are rather longer and narrower. They are attached to the volume in the same manner, either near the bottom of the right board, or near the top of the left board. There are scars on the lower edge of the case, and on the legs, which seem to indicate that there might once have been a desk. Otherwise, the books, when read, must have rested on the reader's knees. The whole piece of furniture closely resembles one dated 1694 at Bolton in Lancashire to be described below (fig. 116).

The bookcase at Turton[467] resembles that at Gorton so closely that it needs no particular description. The doors are richly carved, and on the cornice above them is the following inscription, carved in low relief:

THE GIFT OF HUMPHRY CHETHAM ESQVIRE. 1655.

Besides these parochial libraries Mr Chetham directed the foundation (among other things) of "a Library within the Town of Manchester, for the Use of Scholars, and others well affected, to resort unto ... the same Books there to remain as a public Library for ever; and my Mind and Will is, that Care be taken, that none of the said Books be taken out of the said Library at any Time ... the same Books [to] be fixed or chained, as well as may be, within the said Library, for the better Preservation thereof." In order to carry out these provisions the executors bought an ancient building called the College, which is known to have been completed before 1426 by Thomas Lord de la Warre, as a college in connexion with the adjoining collegiate church, now the Cathedral[468]. The library was placed in two long narrow rooms on the first floor, the original destination of which is uncertain. They are at right angles to each other, and have a united length of 137 ft. 6 in., with a breadth of 17 ft. The south and west walls are pierced with fourteen three-light windows, probably inserted by Chetham's executors; the east and west walls are blank.

The existing fittings, though they have been extensively altered[469] from time to time, are in the main those which were originally put up. The bookcases, of oak, are placed in medieval fashion at right angles to the windows. They are 10 ft. long, 2 ft. wide, and were originally 7 ft. high, but have been pieced apparently twice, so that they now reach as high as the wall-plate. Each pair of cases is 6 ft. apart, so as to make a small compartment, closed by wooden gates, which now open in the middle; but a lock attached to one side of the end of each case indicates that originally the gates were in one piece. The cases are quite plain, with the exception of a few panels at the end. On the uppermost of these, which is oblong, and extends from side to side of the case, the subjects of the works are written: as PHILOSOPHIA; and beneath, in smaller characters, Mathematica, Physica, Metaphysica. All indications of chaining have been obliterated, but a reference to the earliest account-book which has been preserved, that beginning 20 April, 1685, shews that the founder's directions were obeyed:

20 Apr. 1685. To James Wilson for Cheining ten books 0 2 6

" 1686. ——————— for making 26 large Claspes and Cheining 26 bookes 0 4 4

9 Mar. 1686-87. ——————— for Cheining and Clasping 12 doz. bookes 00 18 00

Chains were evidently kept as a part of the stock-in-trade of the library, to be used as required, for, at the end of an Inventory taken 18 November, 1684, we find:

Alsoe in the Library two globes; three Mapps; two queres of larg paper to make tables; a paper fol-booke; A Ruleing penn; 24 dossen Chains; A geniological roul; and a larg serpent or snaks skin.



At Wimborne Minster the books are placed in a small room, about fifteen feet square, over the vestry, a building in the Decorated style, situated between the south transept and the south aisle of the choir. Access to this room is obtained by a turret-stair at the south-west corner. It was fitted up as a library in 1686, when the greater part of the books were given by the Rev. William Stone. There are two plain wooden shelves, carried round three sides of the room. The chains are attached to the right-hand board of each book, instead of to the left-hand board, and they are made of iron wire, twisted as shewn in the sketch (fig. 115). The swivel, instead of being central, plays in a twist of the wire which forms the ring attached to the book. The iron bars are supported on eyes, and are secured by a tongue of iron passed over a staple fixed into the bracket which supports the shelf. The tongue was originally kept in its place by a padlock, now replaced by a wooden peg. No desk was attached to the shelves, but in lieu of it a portable desk and stool were provided[470].

A library was built over the porch of the parish church at Denchworth[471], Berks, in 1693, and "stocked with 100 books well secured with chains," presumably for the use of the vicar and his successors; and in 1715, William Brewster, M.D., bequeathed 285 volumes to the churchwardens of All Saints' Church, Hereford, for the same purpose[472]. The books were placed in the vestry, where they still are. They are all chained on a system copied from that in use at the Chapter Library.

In addition to collections of books, which varied in extent according to the taste, or the means, of the donor, single volumes are often found chained in churches. These do not come within the scope of this Essay, and I will therefore pass on to notice some libraries connected with Grammar Schools.

At Abingdon in Berkshire, the school, founded 1563, had a library, some volumes of which, bearing their chains, are still preserved. There was a similar collection at Bicester in Oxfordshire, where a school is said to have been in existence before 1570. In 1571 James Pilkington, Bishop of Durham (1561-1577), by will dated 4 February in that year, bequeathed his books to the school at Rivington in Lancashire. The following extracts from the statutes, said to have been made shortly after the arrival of the books, remind us of monastic provisions[473].

The Governors shall the first day of every quarter when they come to the School take an account of all such books as have been given to the School, and if any be picked away torn or written in they shall cause him that so misused it to buy another book as good and lay it in the place of it and there to be used continually as others be.

The Schoolmaster and Usher whensoever the Scholars go from the School shall cause all such books as have been or shall be given to the School and occupied abroad that day to be brought into the place appointed for them, and there to be locked up; and every morning shall cause the dictionaries, or such other books as are meet to be occupied abroad by the Scholars, that have none of their own, to be laid abroad, and see that none use to write in them, pull out leaves, nor carry them from the School; and if any misuse any book, or pick it away, the Governours shall cause him to buy another as good, to be laid in the stead of it, and occupied as the other was.

And for the books of divinity, the Schoolmaster and Usher and such as give themselves to study divinity, shall occupy them, that they may be the more able to declare any article of the catechism or religion to the scholars; and in the church to make some notes of the Chapters that be read that the people may better understand them and remember what is read. And yet these books they shall not carry out of the School, without license of the Governours, and on pain to bring it again, or else to buy one as good, in its stead, and to be allowed out of the Master's or Usher's wages.

If any preacher come and desire to have the use of some of those books, they shall let him have the use of them for a time so that they see them brought in again; none other shall carry them from the School except they have license of half the Governours and be bound to bring it safe again.

In 1573 John Parkhurst, Bishop of Norwich (1560-1575), bequeathed "the most part" of his Latin books to his native town Guildford, to be placed in "the Lybrarie of the same Towne ioyning to the Schole." These books, after some legal difficulties had been overcome, were brought to Guildford, and placed in a gallery which connected the two wings of the school, and had been begun in 1571. The books were fastened to the shelves with chains, one of which has been already figured (fig. 58). There is evidence that the library was well cared for, and augmented by various donations, which were regularly chained as they came in, down to the end of the 17th century[474].

Henry Bury, founder of the free school at Bury in Lancashire in 1625, directed in his will that a convenient place should be found for the library, because, as he proceeds to say:

I have already geven ... in trust for the use of Bury Parish and the countrie therabouts, of ministers also at ther metinge and of schole maisters and others that seek for learninge and knowledge, above six hundreth bookes, and some other such things as I thought might helpe for their delight, and refresh students, as globes mappes pictures and some other things not every wheare to bee seene.

This language shews that this provident benefactor intended his library to be public. It is pleasant to be able to record that some of the books which he gave are still in existence[475].

Lastly I will figure (fig. 116) the press given in 1694 by "James Leaver citison of London," to the Grammar School at Bolton in Lancashire. It closely resembles those given by Humphry Chetham to Turton and Gorton. The system of ironwork by which the bars are kept in place is exactly the same; and it retains the desk, traces of which exist at Gorton.

In my enumeration of the libraries attached to schools and churches, I have drawn special attention to the fact that in nearly all of them the books were chained. In explanation of this it might be argued that these libraries were in remote places, to which new ideas would not easily penetrate, but I am about to shew that this method of protection, which began in a remote past, was maintained with strange persistency down to modern times. I shall collect some further instances of the chaining of books in places where it might have been expected that such things would be no longer thought of; and in conclusion I shall record some dates at which the final removal of chains took place.



In the library of the Faculty of Medicine, Paris, the books were ordered to be chained in 1509, in consequence of some thefts; and these chains were still attached to certain books in 1770[476]. At Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, in 1554, it was ordered that the books bequeathed by Peter Nobys, D.D. (Master 1516-23), should be taken better care of for the future, and, if the chains were broken, that they should be repaired at the expense of the college[477]. In 1555, Robert Chaloner, Esq., bequeathed his law books to Gray's Inn, with forty shillings in money, to be paid to his cousin, "to th' entent that he maie by cheines therwith and fasten so manye of them in the Librarye at Grauisin [Gray's Inn] as he shall think convenyente[478]."

At S. John's College, Cambridge, in 1563-4, three shillings were paid to "Phillip Stacyoner for cornering, bossing, and chayninge Anatomiam Vessalii etc.[479]" In 1573, Dr Caius directs by will twelve copies of his own works to be given to his college, "there to be kepte as the other bokes are, and to be successivelye tyed with chaynes in the Librarye of the same College[480]." Dr Perne, Master of Peterhouse, by will dated 25 February, 1588, directs that all his books therein bequeathed "be layed and chayned in the old Librarie of the Colledge[481]." At Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1601, Mr Peter Shaw gave L5 towards the "cheyning and desking of his bookes given to the newe liberarie[482]." In 1638-9, when a new library was completed for the Barber Surgeons of London, L6. 18s. were spent on binding and chaining, as for instance:

Paid for 36 yards of chaine at 4d. the yard and 36 yards at 3d. the yard cometh to xxijs. vjd.

Paid to the coppersmith for castinge 80 brasses to fasten the chaines to the bookes—xiijs. iiijd.[483]

Sir Matthew Hale, who died in 1676, directed in his will that certain manuscripts should be given to the Honourable Society of Lincoln's Inn: "My desire," he said, "is that they be kept safe and also in remembrance of me. They were fit to be bound in leather and chained and kept in archives[484]." In the will of Matthew Scrivener, Rector of Haslingfield in Cambridgeshire, dated 4 March, 1687, the following passage occurs: "I give fifty pounds in trust for the use of the public Library [at Cambridge], either by buying chains for the securing the books at present therein contained, or for the increase of the number of them[485]." At the church of S. Gatien at Tours it is recorded in 1718 that the library which occupied one alley of the cloister was well stocked with manuscripts, chained on desks, which stood both against the wall and in the middle of the room[486]. Lastly, in 1815, John Fells, mariner, gave L30 to found a theological library in the church of S. Peter, Liverpool. "The books were originally fastened to open shelves in the vestry with rods and chains[487]."

Towards the end of the eighteenth century the practice was finally abandoned. At Eton College in 1719 it was "Order'd to take y^e Chains off y^e Books in y^e Library, except y^e Founder's Manuscripts[488]"; at the Bodleian Library, Oxford, the removal of them began in 1757[489]; at King's College, Cambridge, the books were unchained in 1777[490]; at Brasenose College, Oxford, in 1780[491]; and at Merton College in 1792[492].

In France the custom was evidently abandoned at a much earlier date, for the authors of the Voyage Litteraire, who visited more than eight hundred monasteries at the beginning of the eighteenth century, with the special intention of examining their records and their libraries, rarely allude to chaining, and when they do mention it, they use language which implies that it was a curious old fashion, the maintenance of which surprised them[493].

FOOTNOTES:

[443] The laboryouse Journey and Serche of Johan Leylande for Englandes Antiquitees.... by Johan Bale. London, 1549.

[444] History and Antiquities of University of Oxford, Ed. Gutch, 410. 1796, Vol. II. p. 106. Wood (b. 1632, d. 1695) gives these facts as "credibly reported from antient men and they while young from scholars of great standing."

[445] Ibid. Vol. II. Pt. 2, p. 918.

[446] This number is given on the authority of Macray, Annals of the Bodleian Library, Ed. II. p. 6.

[447] Macray, ut supra, p. 13.

[448] These words were used by Professor Willis, Arch. Hist. Vol. III. p. 451.

[449] For the history of this building see Professor Willis, ut supra, Vol. II. pp. 264-271.

[450] See above p. 186.

[451] Arch. Hist. ut supra, Vol. I. p. 33, and Vol. III. p. 454.

[452] When the new facade was built in the middle of the 18th century this room was shortened by about 8 feet, so that now there are only 8 windows on the south side and 7 1/2 on the north side.

[453] The contract is printed and explained in Arch. Hist. Vol. III. pp. 92-6.

[454] Camb. Ant. Soc. Proc. Vol. II. p. 258. The catalogue is printed, with remarks, by H. Bradshaw, M.A., University Librarian. It should be noted that on the south side of the room, the first case only is called 'stall,' the remaining eight are called 'desks.'

[455] History of University of Cambridge, ed. Prickett and Wright, p. 160. See also Arch. Hist. Vol. III. p. 27.

[456] These descriptions are all borrowed from Professor Willis, Arch. Hist. Vol. III. pp. 454-458, 460, 465.

[457] Arch. Hist. Vol. I. p. 538.

[458] Arch. Hist. I. p. 539.

[459] This date is given on the authority of the present Provost, John Richard Magrath, D.D.

[460] A view of the Library in its original state is given in Ingram's Memorials, Queen's College, p. 12. An article in Notes and Queries, 6th Ser. IV. 442, by the Rev. Robert Lowes Clarke, M.A., Fellow and Librarian, contains the following passage: "The bookcases were fitted with reading desks, as at the Bodleian, and there were fixed oak seats in each recess. These were convenient in some ways, and helped to make the room seem a place for study rather than a store for materials, but they made the lower shelves hard of access, and were removed in 1871 to give room for new cases."