Chapter 23

The Marquis of Salisbury's library at Hatfield contains a number of books which belonged to two distinguished ladies of the Elizabethan period. Lady M. Burghley's many book-treasures included a number of learned works which we do not usually associate with the women of the time. There were, for instance, Basil, 'Orationes,' 1556; Bodin, 'La République,' 1580; Erasmus, 'De Copia Verborum,' 1573; Fernelius, 'Medecina,' 1554; Hemming, 'Commentarius in Ephesios,' 1574; Haddon, 'Contra Osorium,' 1557; Jasparus, 'Encomium,' 1546; Valerius, 'Tabulæ Dialectices,' 1573; Velcurio, 'Commentarius in Aristotelis,' 1573; Whitgift's 'Answer to Cartwright,' 1574, and several others. A few of the books which were once possessed by Anne Cecil (sister of Sir Robert Cecil), Countess of Oxford, are also at Hatfield, notably a 'Grammaire Française,' 1559, and an edition of Cicero 'Epîtres Familières.'

During the eighteenth century, the taste for books was by no means uncommon among women, although only a bold man would declare that that period produced a genuine _femme bibliophile_. The idea of a lady's library was first suggested by Addison in the _Spectator_, No. 37. In No. 79 Steele takes up the thread of the subject, to which Addison returns in No. 92, and Steele again in No. 140. These papers created a want which Richard Steele, with a doubly benevolent object, essayed to fill. 'The Ladies' Library,' ostensibly 'written by a lady,' and 'published by Mr. Steele,' was issued by Jacob Tonson in 1714. It was in three volumes, each of which had a separate dedication; the first is addressed to the Countess of Burlington, the second to Mrs. Bovey, a learned and very beautiful widow, by some supposed to be identical with Sir Roger de Coverley's obdurate _veuve_, whilst the third, in a strain of loyal and affectionate eulogy, is to Steele's own wife, who may be supposed to be depicted in Du Guernier's frontispiece in the first volume. The 'Ladies' Library' and the _Spectator_ papers assist us somewhat in forming an opinion as to the most popular books among the ladies of the earlier part of the last century. The library of the lady whom Addison visited is described as arranged in a very beautiful order. 'At the end of the folios (which were finely bound and gilt) were great jars of china, placed one above the other, in a very noble piece of architecture. The quartos were separated from the octavos by a pile of smaller vessels, which rose in a delightful pyramid. The octavos were bounded by tea dishes of all shapes, colours and sizes. . . . That part of the library designed for the reception of plays and pamphlets was inclosed in a kind of square, consisting of one of the prettiest grotesque works that ever I saw, and made up of scaramouches, lions, monkeys, and a thousand odd figures in chinaware. In the midst of the room was a little Japan table, with a quire of gilt paper upon it, and on the paper a silver snuff-box fashioned in the shape of a little book.' On the upper shelves Addison noticed the presence of a number of other counterfeit volumes, all the classic authors, and a set of the Elzevir first editions in wood, only the titles meant to be read. Among the books Addison mentions are Virgil, Juvenal, Sir Isaac Newton's works, Locke on 'Human Understanding,' a spelling-book, a dictionary for the explanation of hard words, Sherlock on 'Death,' 'The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony,' Father Malebranche's 'Search after Truth,' 'A Book of Novels' [? Mrs. Behn's], 'The Academy of Compliments,' 'Clelia,' 'Advice to a Daughter,' 'The New Atalantis' (with key), a Prayer-book (with a bottle of Hungary water by the side of it), Dr. Sacheverel's speech, Fielding's Trial, Seneca's 'Morals,' Taylor's 'Holy Living and Dying,' and La Ferte's 'Instruction for Country Dances,' etc.

The list is a quaint bit of Addisonian satire, almost worthy to rank by the side of Sir Roger de Coverley. Addison had no very elevated opinion of the intellectual gifts of his women contemporaries, as the juxtaposition of the Prayer-book with the bottle of Hungary waters (a popular stimulating perfume of the day) shows. The books above named were at that time to be found in nearly every gentleman's library, and that they should be found in the possession of women is not surprising. Addison's 'intellectual lady' and her library are a fiction, but a charming fiction withal. In spite of the literary glories of her reign, 'Glorious Anna' can scarcely be regarded as a book-collector. Queen Caroline, the consort of George II., was an enthusiastic bibliophile. Her library was preserved until recently in a building adjoining the Green Park, called the Queen's Library, and subsequently the Duke of York's. An interior view of the building is given in Pyne's 'Royal Residences.' We give on page 267 a reproduction of one of the earliest English bookplates engraved for a lady. It was discovered a few years ago in a volume of title-pages collected by John Bagford, and now in the British Museum. Of Elizabeth Pindar as a book-collector, or, indeed, as anything else, we are without any record.

The present century has produced two of the most distinguished _femmes bibliophiles_ which this country has ever known. The earlier collector, Miss Richardson Currer (1785-1861), of Eshton Hall, in the Deanery of Craven, York, was the owner of an exceedingly rich library of books. Of these, two catalogues were printed. The first, in 1820, under the superintendence of Robert Triphook, extended to 308 pages; the second was drawn up by C. J. Stewart in 1833. That of the latter included four steel engravings of her library. This library was especially strong in British history, and it included a copy on vellum of the St. Albans reprint of Caxton's 'Chronicle' (wanting only the last leaf), which realized £365 at her sale; of Higden's 'Polychronicon,' printed by Caxton, 1482 (not quite perfect); one of the most perfect copies of Coverdale's Bible, 1535, which sold for £250; of Norden's 'Voyage d'Egypte,' on large paper, and many other fine books. It was also rich in natural science, topography, and antiquities. Dibdin describes her as 'at the head of all the female collectors of Europe.' Miss Currer, who suffered from deafness, was an intimate friend of Richard Heber, and it was rumoured at one time that this distinguished bibliomaniac was engaged to be married to Miss Currer, but the event did not transpire. Miss Currer's books were sold at Sotheby's in July and August, 1862, and realized nearly £6,000, the 2,681 lots occupying ten days in selling. Miss Currer was great-niece of Dr. Richardson, whose correspondence was edited by Dawson Turner in 1835. Two of the views of Miss Currer's fine library in Stewart's catalogue are reproduced by Dibdin in his 'Literary Reminiscences.'

Before passing on to the second famous lady book-collector--Mrs. John Rylands--a few more or less important names may be mentioned in connection with the subject. In August, 1835, Evans sold the 'valuable' library of the late Dowager Lady Elcho, but as her books were mixed with other properties, it is not now possible to distinguish one from the other. Lady Mark Sykes' musical library was sold at Puttick's in March, 1847, and eleven months later Sotheby sold some valuable books and books of prints, the property of a Miss Hamlet. H.R.H. the Princess Elizabeth, Landgravine of Hesse-Homburg, and daughter of George III., was a confirmed book-collector, and her library, divided into 1,606 lots, came under the hammer at Sotheby's in April, 1863. It occupied four days in disposal, and realized £915 12s. 6d. The books, which were chiefly in elegant bindings, were for the most part illustrated works, illuminated manuscripts, and books dealing with a very wide variety of topics; whilst many of them had an extraneous value from the fact that they contained signatures and interesting notes of the Princess and other members of the Royal Family. The libraries of the late Lady Francis Vernon Harcourt (August, 1873); of the late Mrs. Ellis, of Bernard Street, Russell Square (November, 1871); and of the late Miss Beckles (December, 1868), have been dispersed at Sotheby's. Lady Morgan's library, comprising the principal works in French, English, and Italian literature, and many scarce and curious books relating to Irish history--many of the books had the owner's autograph--was sold at the same place in April, 1863, but the 396 lots only realized £70. The library of another literary woman, Miss Agnes Strickland, the historian of the Queens of England, was dispersed at the same place in May, 1876, when a few hundred books realized £60. Some very choice books (many of them enriched with the notes of H. T. Buckle) were included in the portion of the library of the late Mrs. Benzon, of 10, Kensington Palace Gardens, sold at Sotheby's on June 14, 1880, when 379 lots realized over £775. Some books from Mrs. Jameson's library were sold at Puttick's in October, 1882, the more important items being annotated or extra-illustrated copies of her own books. The collection formed by Miss Drummond, of Berkeley Square, Bristol, and sold at Sotheby's in May, 1862 (1,339 lots realizing £1,316 6s.), was a remarkably choice library, the whole in elegant bindings, presenting a great variety of patterns, tooled in gold, with appropriate devices and other decorations. There were splendid 'Galleries,' and books of 'picturesque sceneries,' magnificent volumes on natural history, some beautiful Persian manuscripts, and the best works in standard literature. Mrs. Brassey, of Lower Seymour Street, had some good books, which were sold by Bates on December 23, 1814, and included 'The Golden Legend,' by Caxton, which realized 93 guineas.

Mrs. John Rylands is the widow of the late Mr. John Rylands, of Longford Hall, near Manchester. Mrs. Rylands' career as a _femme bibliophile_ may be briefly summarised thus: In 1889 this lady formed the plan of erecting in Manchester a memorial to her late husband, which should embody one main purpose of his life, as carried out by him very unostentatiously, but with great delight, during the greater part of his career. To make the highest literature accessible to the people was with him a cherished aim, and it was accordingly resolved by his widow that the memorial should be in the form of a library. To this end Mrs. Rylands took into her confidence four gentlemen whose names are well known, and for whom the late Mr. Rylands had the greatest respect and admiration, namely, the Rev. Dr. S. G. Green, of London; the late Rev. Dr. MacFadyen, of Manchester; Mr. W. Carnelly and Mr. W. Linnell, both also of Manchester, with whose aid the preliminaries for carrying out her purpose were speedily arranged. The site in Deansgate, lying between Wood Street and Spinningfield, was purchased, and after visits to several great libraries and other public buildings, Mrs. Rylands instructed the architect of Mansfield College, Oxford, Mr. Basil Champneys, of London, to execute plans for a suitable structure, to bear the name of the John Rylands Library. About the same time she commenced the purchase of books, being aided in this by her friend, Mr. J. Arnold Green, son of the Rev. Dr. Green, who, putting himself in communication with various agents, collected a large number of standard books in English and foreign literatures, including early Bibles, first editions, and many other rare and valuable works, with several choice manuscripts and autographs. The number of volumes purchased reached many thousands, one of the acquisitions being the celebrated copy of the 'Biblia Pauperum,' once belonging to the Borghese Library in Rome, at the sale of which it fetched 15,800 francs. Up to this time a considerable amount had been spent. When the announcement was made in 1892 that Earl Spencer, the owner of the Althorp Library, was willing to dispose of that famous collection, Mrs. Rylands at once felt that its possession would be the crown of her whole scheme--accomplishing it with a completeness of which she never dreamed when first she formed her plans. Mr. Arnold Green accordingly at once communicated on her behalf with Mr. Railton, of Messrs. Sotheran and Co., a firm which had been largely employed by her in previous purchases of books. The result is that the Althorp Library passed into Mrs. Rylands' possession, the price paid being close on a quarter of a million sterling. The transaction is by far the largest of its kind which has ever taken place in this or any other country. It has been calculated that the Althorp Library cost its founder about £100,000, and that it should have more than doubled in value in less than a century is an extremely gratifying fact. It contains a large number of unique and excessively rare books, which nothing short of an upheaval in this country similar to the French Revolution could place on the market. Those who depend upon such a contingency to obtain a few of these splendid books are likely to wait for a very long time.

But even with the striking examples of Miss Currer and Mrs. Rylands before us, the conclusion still forces itself upon one that the _femme bibliophile_ is an all but unknown quantity. The New Woman may develop into a genuine book-lover; it is certain that the old one will not. The Chinese article of belief that women have no souls has, after all, something in its favour.

Bookstall-keepers have a deep contempt for women who patronize them by turning over their books without purchasing. It would not be possible to repeat all the hard things they say about the sex. In the words of one: 'They hang around and read the books, and though I have a man to watch them, while he is driving away one another is reading a chapter. They can read a chapter in a minute.' 'Does that not interest them in the book, so that they buy it?' asked an interlocutor. 'No, sir; it don't. It only makes them go to the other stall and read the last chapter there. Not once in a blue moon, sir, does womenfolk buy a book. A penny weekly is what they buy, and before they fix on one they read half a dozen. You take my word for it, sir, it takes a woman half an hour to spend a penny at a bookstall.' A characteristic incident once happened to an old judge's clerk who had a stall a few years ago in Gray's Inn Road. A lady, with whom there were two or three children, after waiting about the pavement, at length suddenly became interested in the humble bookstall. Several pretty picture-books attracted the attention of the children, and they became clamorous to possess them. The stall-keeper, in the politest possible manner, offered the books at her own price. The reply was: 'Oh no, thanks. We are only looking over the books to kill time.' 'Much obliged to you, ma'am, for your kindness and consideration,' was the prompt reply.

BOOK THIEVES, BORROWERS, AND KNOCK-OUTS.

'FACILIS descensus Averni' might well be the motto for any article or chapter dealing with the above comprehensive 'avocations.' Once started on his career, the book-thief may be regarded as entirely lost. At the Middlesex Sessions a few years ago a genius of the name of Terry was sentenced to six years' imprisonment for stealing books. On inquiry it was found that this same person had already been in prison six times, two terms of eighteen months each, one term of five years' penal servitude, and another of seven years, all for stealing books.

Each thief has his own special _modus operandi_, which he varies according to circumstances. There are those who do it without any adventitious aid, and those who cover their sin with various accessories. First, the ordinary book-thief, who watches his opportunity when the shopkeeper is not looking, and simply slips the book quickly under his coat and departs. This method is plain and simple in execution, but sometimes dangerous in practice. Then there is the man who wears an overcoat, the lining of the pocket of which he has previously removed, so that he can pass his hand right through while apparently only standing still looking on, with his hands quietly in his pocket, possibly with one hand openly touching something, whilst the other is earning his dinner.

An amusing incident was once the experience of a London bookseller. While sitting behind his counter inside the shop, he was amazed one day at seeing a man running at a tremendous rate, and, momentarily slackening his speed to seize a book off the stall, he had disappeared before the astounded bookseller was able to get to the door. And it is remarkable that, though many people were about, no one seems to have noticed the thief take the book, though they saw him running. Another favourite device is to carry a newspaper in the hand, and when no one is looking deposit the paper on a carefully-selected book within the folds; or having an overcoat carried on the arm to quickly hide something under cover of it. This latter method requires, of course, a well-to-do-looking man, and obviously is chiefly confined to the stealers of the higher class of valuable books. It also requires, like every well-managed business, a certain amount of capital, for it is absolutely necessary--in order to lull suspicion--that small purchases should be made from time to time in the hunting-ground that has been chosen for the season.

Then there is the mean man who, having money, is yet lacking in the will to spend it. Such individuals in these days of disguising bad deeds under grand names are euphemistically designated kleptomaniacs. Most London booksellers have had experience of this class. It is a known fact that a literary man whose name is familiar to many readers was expelled from the reading-room of the British Museum for this sort of conduct, stealing small trifling things that could easily have been bought, and mutilating other books by cutting out passages which he was too lazy to transcribe, and too mean, although a well-to-do man, to employ an amanuensis.

'Steal?' quoth ancient Pistol. 'Foh! a fico for the phrase. Convey the wise it call.' Had Pistol lived in these days he would have said, 'Kleptomania the wise it call.' Some years ago there resided in the West End of London a Belgian gentleman well known in literary circles, and a man of good position to boot. He possessed a valuable library, and was a frequent visitor at shops where he could add to his collections. One dealer noticed that, whenever Monsieur Y. called upon him, one or two valuable books mysteriously disappeared, and he was not long before he arrived at the conclusion that his Belgian customer appropriated his wares without attending to the customary, but disagreeable, process of exchanging the coin of the realm for his bargains. Our friend the dealer, an honest but remarkably plain-spoken and fearless individual, made careful notes of all his losses and their prices.

One day he stopped Monsieur Y. just as he was leaving the shop, and remarked that he might as well pay for the little volumes he had stowed away in the pockets of the capacious overcoat he almost invariably wore. Great was the assumed indignation of the Belgian bibliophile, who asserted that he had no books on him but those he had already accounted for. 'Come, come,' said the dealer, 'that won't do; I left you alone in the room upstairs, but I watched you through the door, and saw you pocket the books, of which the price is so much. Unless you pay for them I shall send for a policeman; and whilst I am on the topic you may as well settle for those other books you have taken from my shelves at various times.' Here he produced his list, with the prices all affixed, and a certain small sum added by way of interest. Hereupon Monsieur Y. stormed and raved, swore it was an attempt to extort money from him, and threatened legal proceedings. 'If,' said the dealer, 'you can empty your pockets now without producing any book of mine, except those you have paid for, I will withdraw my claim and apologize, otherwise I shall at once send my man' (whom he then called) 'for a policeman.' Whereupon Monsieur Y. paid the full claim, walked out of the shop, and never entered it again. But the catalogues were regularly sent to him, and as the dealer constantly had books that he required, he ordered what he wanted by post, so that in the long-run the bookseller really lost little or nothing by his boldness. The same bookseller complained that people often ordered his books but neglected to pay for them, whilst intending purchasers who meant to pay ready money, and called at the shop for the books, had to be sent away disconsolate, sometimes after having come long distances to secure the long-wished-for volume. 'But first come, first served, is my motto, and if six orders come for the same book, it goes to the man whose letter or card I first receive.' A sturdy John Bull sort of man this, with a great knowledge of books, who has had to fight a long uphill battle, and is perhaps one of the best-known men in the trade.

An awkward incident for the thief happened once. A bookseller, the proprietor of two or three shops, was in one of them, when a person entered and offered for sale a couple of books. The proprietor recognised one of them as being his property, he having that morning sent it to the other of his shops, from which it had been apparently almost immediately removed. When questioned, the intending vendor pretended to be much insulted, and asserted the book had been in his possession for some considerable time, and even threatened the bookseller, when he insisted on detaining the book, with the police. This was rather unfortunate, for at that moment a constable passing by was called in, and, in spite of a great deal of bluster and many threats, the thief was marched off to the nearest police-station. The other book, it was found, had also been stolen that morning from another shop, and the result was four months' imprisonment.