Chapter 7

The tenth Duke of Hamilton was one of the most distinguished bibliophiles of his time, and commenced purchasing whilst yet Marquis of Douglas. A large portion of his library was collected in Italy and various parts of the Continent, whilst the collection of Greek and Latin manuscripts which he obtained when on a diplomatic mission to Russia formed an unrivalled series of monuments of early art. In 1810 he married Susanna Beckford, and at her father's death the whole of his splendid library came into his possession. The two collections, however, were kept quite distinct. The Hamilton collection of printed books was sold at Sotheby's in May, 1884, the eight days realizing £12,892 12s. 6d. The most important feature of the library, however, was the magnificent collection of MSS. which the Prussian Government secured by private treaty--through the intermediary, it is understood, of the Empress Frederick--for £70,000. In May, 1889, those which the authorities decided not to retain for the Royal Museum at Berlin were transferred to Messrs. Sotheby's, and ninety-one lots realized the total of £15,189 15s. 6d. The gems of the collection were a magnificent volume of the Golden Gospels in Latin of the eighth century, formerly a gift to Henry VIII., which sold for £1,500--a London bookseller once offered £5,000 for this book--and a magnificent MS. of Boccaccio, 'Les Illustres Malheureux,' on vellum, 321 leaves, decorated with eighty-four exquisite miniatures, which sold for £1,700. It may be mentioned that a large number of the Beckford and Hamilton books were purchased through the late H. G. Bohn.

The Althorp Library, now in the possession of Mrs. Rylands, of Manchester, was formed by George John, Earl Spencer (1758-1834), between 1790 and 1820. Until its recent removal from Althorp it was the finest private library in existence. In 1790 Lord Spencer acquired the very fine and select library of Count Rewiczki, the Emperor Joseph's Ambassador in London, for about £2,500, and for the next thirty years the Earl was continually hunting after books in the sale-rooms and booksellers' shops. The story of the Althorp Library has been so repeatedly told, from the time of its first librarian, the devil-hunting Thomas Frognall Dibdin--whose flatulent and sycophantic records are not to be taken as mirroring the infinitely superior intellect and taste of his employer--down to the present day, that any further description is almost superfluous. Besides this, the library is one which will soon be open to all. We may, however, mention a point which is of great interest in the study of books as an investment. It may reasonably be doubted whether the Althorp Library cost its founder much over £100,000; it is generally understood that the price paid for it in 1892 was not far short of £250,000.

Contemporaneously with the formation of the Althorp Collection, the Duke of Roxburghe built a library, which was one of the finest and most perfect ever got together. The Duke turned book-hunter through a love affair, it is said. He was to have been married to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz; but when this lady's sister was selected as a wife for George III., the proposed marriage was deemed impolitic, and consequently the Duke remained single. The Duke himself is said to have traced his passion for books to the famous dinner given by his father, the second Duke, at which Lords Oxford and Sunderland were present, and at which the celebrated copy of the Valdarfer Boccaccio was produced. The history of this incident is told in our chapter on Book-sales, and need not be here more specifically referred to. The Duke was a mighty hunter, not only of books, but of deer and wild swans. So far as books are concerned, his great specialities were Old English literature, Italian poetry, and romances of the Round Table; and as the first and last of these have increased in value as years have gone by, it will be seen that the Duke was wise in his generation. Indeed, we have it on the best authority that the aggregate outlay on the Roxburghe Library did not exceed £4,000, whilst in the course of little more than twenty years it produced over £23,397, the sale taking place in June, 1812. The Duke of Roxburghe and Lord Spencer were not averse to a little understanding of the nature of a 'knock-out,' for in one of the Althorp Caxtons Lord Spencer has written: 'The Duke and I had agreed not to oppose one another at the [George Mason] sale, but after the book [a Caxton] was bought, to toss up who should win it, when I lost it. I bought it at the Roxburghe sale on the 17 of June, 1812, for £215 5s.'

Yet another distinguished book-collector of the same period calls for notice. George III. formed a splendid library out of his own private purse and at a cost of £130,000. This library is now a part of the British Museum. A library such as that of George III. gives very little idea of a man's real tastes for books. The King availed himself of the accumulated wisdom, not only of Barnard (who was his librarian for nearly half a century), but of three or four other experts, among whom was Dr. Johnson. The King's everyday tastes, however, may be gathered from the subjoined list of books, which he wished to have on his visit to Weymouth in 1795. He desired what he called 'a closet library' for a watering-place; he wrote to his bookseller for the following works: the Bible; the 'Whole Duty of Man'; the 'Annual Register,' 25 volumes; Rapin's 'History of England,' 21 volumes, 1757; Millot's 'Elémens de l'Histoire de France,' 1770; Voltaire's 'Siècles' of Louis XIV. and Louis XV.; Blackstone's 'Commentaries,' 4 volumes; R. Burn's 'Justice of Peace and Parish Officer,' 4 volumes; an abridgment of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary; Boyer's 'Dictionnaire François et Anglais'; Johnson's 'Poets,' 68 volumes; Dodsley's 'Poems,' 11 volumes; Nichols' 'Poems,' 8 volumes; Steevens' 'Shakespeare'; 'Oeuvres' of Destouches, 5 volumes; and the 'Works' of Sir William Temple, 4 volumes; of Addison, 4 volumes, and Swift, 24 volumes. These books can scarcely be regarded as light literature, and, if anything, calculated to add to the deadly dulness of a seaside retreat at the end of the last century. However, the selection is George III.'s, and must be respected as such.

The number of men who were prowling about London during the middle and latter part of the last century after books is only less great than the variety of tastes which they evinced. We have, for example, two such turbulent spirits as John Horne Tooke and John Wilkes, M.P. Parson Horne's (he subsequently assumed the name of his patron, William Tooke) collection did not, as Dibdin has observed, contain a single edition of the Bible; but it included seven examples of Wynkyn de Worde's press and many other rare books. Eight hundred and thirteen lots realized the then high amount of £1,250 when sold at King and Lochée's in 1813. John Wilkes' books were sold at Sotheby's in 1802. If less notorious, many equally enthusiastic book-collectors were hunting the highways and byways of London. Here, for example, is a little anecdote relative to one of these:

When the splendid folio edition of Cæsar's 'Commentaries,' by Clarke, published for the express purpose of being presented to the great Duke of Marlborough, came under the hammer at the sale (in 1781) of Topham Beauclerk's library for £44, it was accompanied by an anecdote relating to the method in which it had been acquired. Upon the death of an officer to whom the book belonged, his mother, being informed that it was of some value, wished to dispose of it, and, being told that Mr. Topham Beauclerk (who is said to have but once departed from his inflexible rule of never lending a book) was a proper person to offer it to, she waited on him for that purpose. He asked what she required for it, and, being answered £4 4s., took it without hesitation, though unacquainted with the real value of the book. Being desirous, however, of information with respect to the nature of the purchase he had made, he went to an eminent bookseller's, and inquired what he would give for such a book. The bookseller replied £17 17s. Mr. Beauclerk went immediately to the person who sold him the book, and, telling her that she had been mistaken in its value, not only gave her the additional 13 guineas, but also generously bestowed a further gratuity on her. Few bargain-hunters would have felt called upon to act as Beauclerk[55:A] did. Here is another anecdote of a contemporary book-hunter:

Nichols states that Mr. David Papillon (who died in 1762), a gentleman of fortune and literary taste, as well as a good antiquary, contracted with Osborne to furnish him with £100 worth of books, at 3d. apiece. The only conditions were, that they should be perfect, and that there should be no duplicate. Osborne was highly pleased with his bargain, and the first great purchase he made, he sent Mr. Papillon a large quantity; but in the next purchase he found he could send but few, and the next still fewer. Not willing, however, to give up, he sent books worth 5s. apiece, and at last was forced to go and beg to be let off the contract. Eight thousand books would have been wanted!

An interesting collector, at once the type of a country gentleman and of a true bibliophile, was Sir John Englis Dolben (1750-1837), of Finedon Hall, Northamptonshire. He was educated at Westminster School, proceeding thence to Christ Church in 1768. Previously to his final retirement into the country, he lingered with much affection about the haunts of his youthful studies. He carried so many volumes about with him in his numerous and capacious pockets that he appeared like a walking library, and his memory, particularly in classical quotations, was equally richly stored. This is one side of the picture. This is the other side, in which we get a view of the man-about-town collector in the person of Alexander Dalrymple (1737-1808), the hydrographer to the Admiralty and to the East India Company: 'His yellow antiquarian chariot seemed to be immovably fixed in the street, just opposite the entrance-door of the long passage leading to the sale-room of Messrs. King and Lochée, in King Street, Covent Garden; and towards the bottom of the table, in the sale-room, Mr. Dalrymple used to sit, a cane in his hand, his hat always upon his head, a thin, slightly-twisted queue, and silver hairs that hardly shaded his temple. . . . His biddings were usually silent, accompanied by the elevation and fall of his cane, or by an abrupt nod of the head.'

The Osterley Park Library, sold by order of the seventh Earl of Jersey at Sotheby's in 1885, was commenced in the last century, the original founder being Bryan Fairfax, who died in 1747. His books came into the hands of Alderman Child, who was not only a book-collector, but inherited Lord Mavor Child's books. The fifth Earl of Jersey married Mr. Child's grand-daughter in 1804. Two mighty hunters of the old school may be here briefly mentioned--John Towneley and Michael Wodhull, the poet, both of whose collections were dispersed in several portions, partly at the beginning of the present century, and partly within quite recent times. The founder of the 'Bibliotheca Towneleiana' was for a long period of years an ardent collector, his favourite studies being English history, topography, and portraits. The great gem of his collection was the splendid 'Vita Christi,' gorgeously ornamented with full-page paintings, and with miniatures superbly executed in colours, heightened with gold, by Giulio Clovio, in the finest style of Italian art. This MS. was executed for Alexander, Cardinal Farnese, and presented to Pope Paul III. It was purchased abroad by a Mr. Champernoun for an inconsiderable sum, and cost Mr. Towneley 400 guineas. At its sale in 1883 it realized £2,050. Two portions of the Towneley Library were dispersed by Evans in 1814-15 (seventeen days), and realized over £8,597, and other portions were sold in 1816 and 1817. Towneley himself died in May, 1813, aged eighty-two. The remainder of his extensive collection was sold at Sotheby's in 1883 (ten days). Wodhull, who died November 10, 1816, aged seventy-six, had two sales during his lifetime, first in 1801 (chiefly duplicates), and secondly in 1803 (chiefly Greek and Roman classics). He, however, reserved for himself a library of about 4,000, which, passing into the possession of Mr. F. E. Severne, M.P., was sold at Sotheby's in January, 1886, and realized a total of £11,973 4s. 6d. He is the Orlando of Dibdin's 'Bibliomania.' The Greek and Roman classics formed the chief attraction of this _post-mortem_ sale, which is generally regarded as one of the most important of its kind held during recent years. Most of the prizes were picked up in France after 1803, and it was during one of his book-hunting expeditions in Paris that Wodhull was detained by Napoleon.

Two other 'fashionable' or titled collectors may be here grouped together. The fine library formed by William, Marquis of Lansdowne was dispersed by Leigh and Sotheby in thirty-one days, beginning with January 6, 1806, the 6,530 lots realizing £6,701 2s. 6d. The highest amount paid for a single lot was for a very rare collection of tracts, documents, and pamphlets, in over 280 volumes, illustrating the history of the French Revolution, together with forty-nine volumes relative to the transactions in the Low Countries between the years 1787 and 1792, and their separation from the House of Austria. Wynkyn de Worde's 'Rycharde Cure de Lyon,' 1528, sold for £47 5s.; and a curious collection of 'Masks' and 'Triumphs,' of the early seventeenth century, mostly by Ben Jonson, realized £40. As a book-collector Sir Mark Masterman Sykes is a much better remembered figure in the annals of book-hunting than that of the Marquis of Lansdowne. The Sykes library contained a number of the _editiones principes_ of the classics, some on vellum, and also a number of Aldines in the most perfect condition. There were also many highly curious and very rare pieces of early English poetry. The collection was sold at Evans's in 1824, and the gems of the collection were a copy of the Mazarin Bible, and the Latin Psalter, 1459, to which full reference is made in a subsequent chapter.

II.

The history of literature, it is said, teaches us to consider its decline only as the development of a great principle of succession by which the treasures of the mind are circulated and equalized; as shoots by which the stream of improvement is forcibly directed into new channels, to fertilize new soils and awaken new capabilities. The history of book-collecting teaches us a similar lesson. The love which so often amounted to a positive passion for the exquisite productions of the Age of Illuminated Manuscripts, all but died with the introduction of the printing-press, which in reality was but a continuation of the old art in a new form. And so on, down through the successive decades and generations of the past four centuries, the decline--but not the death, for such a term cannot be applied to any phase of book-collecting--of one particular aspect of the hobby has synchronized with the birth of several others, sometimes more worthy, and at others less. An exhaustive inquiry into the various and manifold changes through which the human mind passed alone might account for these various developments, which it is not the intention of the present writer on this occasion to analyze.

The rise and progress of what Sir Egerton Brydges calls 'the black-letter mania' gave the death-blow to the long-cherished school of poetry of which Pope may be taken as the most distinguished exponent. 'Men of loftier taste and bolder fancy early remonstrated against this chilling confinement of the noblest, the most aspiring, and most expansive of all the Arts. . . . It was not till the commotion of Europe broke the chain of indolence and insipid effeminacy that the stronger passions of readers required again to be stimulated and exercised and soothed, and that the minor charms of correctness were sacrificed to the ardent efforts of uncontrolled and unfearing genius. The authors of this class began to look back for their materials to an age of hazardous freedom, and copious and untutored eloquence: an age in which the world of words and free and native ideas was not contracted and blighted by technical critics and cold and fastidious scholars.' To abandon the abstract for the more matter-of-fact details of sober history, the mania to which Brydges alludes may be said to date itself from the spring of 1773. The occasion was the sale in London of the library of James West, President of the Royal Society. George Nicol, the bookseller, was an extensive purchaser at this sale for the King, for whom, indeed, he acted in a similar capacity up to the last. Nicol told Dibdin 'with his usual pleasantry and point, that he got abused in the public papers, by Almon and others, for having purchased nearly the whole of the Caxtonian volumes in this collection for his Majesty's library. It was said abroad that a Scotchman had lavished away the King's money in buying old black-letter books.' The absurdity of this report was soon proved at subsequent sales. Dibdin adds, as a circumstance highly honourable to the King, that 'his Majesty, in his directions to Mr. Nicol, forbade any competition with those purchasers who wanted books of science and _belles lettres_ for their own progressive or literary pursuits; thus using the power of his purse in a manner at once merciful and wise.'

The impetus which book-collecting, and more particularly the section to which we have just referred, received by the dispersal of the West Library gathered in force as time went on, reaching its climax with the Roxburghe sale thirty-nine years afterwards. The enthusiasm culminated in a club--the Roxburghe, which still flourishes. The warfare (at Roxburghe House, St. James's Square), as Mr. Silvanus Urban has recorded, was equalled only by the courage and gallantry displayed on the plains of Salamanca about the same period. 'As a pillar, or other similar memorial, could not be conveniently erected to mark the spot where so many bibliographical champions fought and conquered, another method was adopted to record their fame, and perpetuate this brilliant epoch in literary annals. Accordingly, a phalanx of the most hardy veterans has been enrolled under the banner of the far-famed Valdarfer's Boccaccio of 1471. . . . The first anniversary meeting of this noble band was celebrated at the St. Alban's Tavern [St. Alban's Street, now Waterloo Place] on Thursday, June 17, 1813, being the memorable day on which the before-mentioned Boccaccio was sold for £2,260. The chair was taken by Earl Spencer (perpetual president of the club), supported by Lords Morpeth and Gower, and the following gentlemen,[61:A] viz., Sir E. Brydges, Messrs. W. Bentham, W. Bolland, J. Dent, T. F. Dibdin (vice-president), Francis Freeling, Henry Freeling, Joseph Hazlewood, Richard Heber, Thomas C. Heber, G. Isted, R. Lang, J. H. Markland, J. D. Phelps, T. Ponton, junior, J. Towneley, E. V. Utterson, and R. Wilbraham. Upon the cloth being removed, the following appropriate toasts were delivered from the chair:

1. The cause of Bibliomania all over the world.

2. The immortal memory of Christopher Valdarfer, the printer of the Boccaccio of 1471.

3. The immortal memory of William Caxton, first English printer.

4. The immortal memory of Wynkyn de Worde.

5. The immortal memory of Richard Pynson.

6. The immortal memory of Julian Notary.

7. The immortal memory of William Faques.

8. The immortal memory of the Aldine family.

9. The immortal memory of the Stephenses.

10. The immortal memory of John, Duke of Roxburghe.

'After these the health of the noble president was proposed, and received by the company standing, with three times three. Then followed the health of the worthy vice-president (proposed by Mr. Heber), which, it is scarcely necessary to observe, was drunk with similar honours. . . . The president was succeeded in the chair by Lord Gower, who, at midnight, yielded to Mr. Dent; and that gentleman gave way to the Prince of Bibliomaniacs, Mr. Heber. Though the night, or rather the morning, wore apace, it was not likely that a seat so occupied would be speedily deserted; accordingly, the "regal purple stream" ceased not to flow till "Morning oped her golden gates," or, in plain terms, till past four o'clock.' Such is a brief account of the Roxburghe Club, which is limited to thirty-one members, one black ball being fatal to the candidate who offers himself for a vacancy, and each member in his annual turn has to print a book or pamphlet, and to present to his fellow-members a copy. Before making any further reference to the _personnel_ of the Roxburghe Club, we quote, from a literary journal of 1823, the following trenchant paragraph, _à propos_ of a similar club in Scotland:

'BIBLIOMANIA.--This most ridiculous of all the affectations of the day has lately exhibited another instance of its diffusion, in the establishment of a _Roxburghe[62:A] Club_ in Edinburgh. Its object, we are told, "is the republication of scarce and valuable tracts, especially poetry."--"Republication!" In what manner? Commonsense forbid that the system of the London Roxburghe Club be adopted. Of this there are some four-and-twenty members or so, who dine together a certain number of times in the year, and each member in his turn republishes some old tract at his own expense. There are just so many copies printed as there are members of the club, and one copy is presented to each. It is evident that no sort of good can be effected by this system, and, indeed, there has not yet resulted any benefit to the literature of the country from the Roxburghe Club. They have not published a single book of any conceivable merit. The truth is that the members, for the most part, are a set of persons of no true taste, of no proper notion of learning and its uses--very considerable persons in point of wealth, but very _so-so_ in point of intellect.'