LIBRARIES IN MEDIÆVAL TIMES
During the rule of the Arabs in Northern Africa and in Spain, thousands
of manuscripts were gathered together in their chief cities, such as
Cairo and Cordova, and many Arabic-Spanish and Moorish writings have
been preserved in the Escurial Library, though a large part of this
library was burnt in 1671. With these exceptions, the collections of
books belonging to the various religious houses were practically the
only libraries of early mediæval times. These collections, to begin
with, were very small; so small, indeed, that there was no need to set
apart a special room for them. Library buildings were not erected till
the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, when the accumulation of books
rendered them necessary, and those which are found in connection with
old foundations will always prove to have been added later. It is said,
however, that Gozbert, abbot of St Gall in the ninth century, who
founded the library there by collecting what was then the large number
of four hundred books, allotted them a special room over the
scriptorium. But as a rule the books were kept in the church, and then,
as the number increased, in the cloisters. The cloister was the common
living-room of the monks, where they read and studied, and carried out
most of their daily duties. The books were either stored in presses,
though no such press remains to show us upon what pattern they were
built, or in recesses in the wall, probably closed by doors. Two of
these recesses may be seen in the cloisters at Worcester. In Cistercian
houses, says Mr J. W. Clark, to whose Rede Lecture (1894) I am indebted
for these details, this recess developed "into a small square room
without a window, and but little larger than an ordinary cupboard. In
the plans of Clairvaux and Kirkstall this room is placed between the
chapter-house and the transept of the church; and similar rooms, in
similar situations, have been found at Fountains, Beaulieu, Tintern,
Netley, etc." The books were placed on shelves round the walls. When the
cloister windows came to be glazed, so as to afford better protection
from the weather for the persons and things within the cloister, they
were occasionally decorated with allusions to the authors of the books
in the adjacent presses.
Sometimes _carrells_ were set up in the cloister, a carrell being a sort
of pew, in which study could be conducted with more privacy than in the
open cloister. The carrell was placed so that it was closed at one end
by one of the cloister windows and remained open at the other. Examples
still survive at Gloucester.
The arrangement of the libraries which were subsequently added to most
of the larger monasteries in the fifteenth century is unknown, as none
of the furniture or fittings seem to have come down to the present day
either in this country or in France or Italy. But Mr Clark thinks that
the collegiate libraries will give us the key to the plan of the
monastic libraries, since the rules relating to the libraries of Oxford
and Cambridge were framed on those which obtained in the "book-houses"
of the religious foundations. From these collegiate libraries we gather
that it was customary to chain the books, so that they might be
accessible to all and yet secure from those who might wish to
appropriate them temporarily or otherwise. The shelf to which the
volumes were fastened took the form or an "elongated lectern or desk,"
at which the reader might sit. Pembroke College and Queens' College,
Cambridge, had desks of this type, which was also in use on the
Continent. In some places the desks were modified by the addition of
shelves above or below.
Mr Falconer Madan, in his _Books in Manuscript_, quotes the following
account, which he translates from the Latin register of Titchfield
Abbey, written at the end of the fourteenth century, and which shows the
care and method with which the books were kept: "The arrangement of the
library of the monastery of Tychefeld is this:--There are in the library
of Tychefeld four cases (_columnæ_) in which to place books, of which
two, the first and second, are in the eastern face; on the southern face
is the third, and on the northern face the fourth. And each of them has
eight shelves (_gradus_), marked with a letter and number affixed on the
front of each shelf.... So all and singular the volumes of the said
library are fully marked on the first leaf and elsewhere on the shelf
belonging to the book, with certain numbered letters. And in order that
what is in the library may be more quickly found, the marking of the
shelves of the said library, the inscriptions in the books, and the
reference in the register, in all points agree with each other. Anno
domini, MCCCC." Then is shown the order in which the books lie on the
shelves. Briefly, the sequence of subjects and books is as
follows:--Bibles, Bibles with commentary, theology, lives of saints,
sermons, canon law, commentaries on canon law, civil law, medicine,
arts, grammar, miscellaneous volumes, logic and philosophy, English law,
eighteen French volumes, and a hundred and two liturgical volumes.
Titchfield Abbey owned altogether over a thousand volumes.
The monastic librarian, as we should call him, was known as the
_armarius_, since he had charge of the _armaria_ or book-presses. He
frequently united this office to that of precentor or leader of the
choir, for at first the service-books were his chief care. It was his
business to make the catalogue, to examine the volumes from time to time
to see that mould or book-worms or other dangers were not threatening
them, to give out books for transcription, and to distribute the various
writing-materials used in the scriptorium or writing-room. He had also
to collate such works as were bound to follow one text, such as Bibles,
missals, monastic rules, etc. To these duties he often added that of
secretary to the abbot and to the monastery generally.
Many catalogues of monastic libraries are extant, and several belonging
to continental foundations were compiled at a very early period. Of the
library of St Gall, founded by the Abbé Gozbert in 816, a contemporary
catalogue still exists. The St Gall library contained four hundred
volumes, a large number for those days, and, moreover, was provided with
a special room, a chamber over the scriptorium. It is not easy to see
why in this and other cases of the co-existence of a library and a
scriptorium one room was not made to do duty for both. But to return to
the catalogues. Another early example is that of the Abbey of Clugni, in
France, made in 831, and forming part of an inventory of the Abbey
property. The Benedictine Abbey of Reichenau, on the Rhine, had four
catalogues compiled in the ninth century--two of the books in the
library, one of certain transcriptions made and added thereto, and one
of additions to the library from other sources. Among English monastic
book-lists, there is one of Whitby Abbey, which appears to have been
made in 1180, and the library of Glastonbury Abbey, which excited the
wonder and admiration of Leland, and which was started by St Dunstan
round a nucleus of a few books formerly brought to the Abbey by Irish
missionaries, was catalogued in 1247 or 1248. Catalogues of the books at
Canterbury (Christ Church and St Augustine's monastery), Peterborough,
Durham, Leicester, Ramsey, and other foundations are also known, and
these, with the notices of Leland, form our only sources of information
as to these various literary storehouses.
As regards their contents, the Scriptures, missals, service-books, and
similar manuscripts formed the larger part of the monastic libraries,
but besides these they included copies of patristic and classical works,
devotional and moral writings, lives of saints, chronicles, books on
medicine, grammar, philosophy, logic, and, later, romances and fiction
were admitted into this somewhat austere company. The catalogue of the
"boc-house" of the monastery of St Augustine at Canterbury, written
towards the close of the fifteenth century, names many romantic works,
including the _Four Sons of Aymon_, _Guy of Warwick_, _The Book of
Lancelot_, _The Story of the Graal_, _Sir Perceval de Galois_, _The
Seven Sages_, and others, and of some of these there is more than one
copy.
Books were frequently lent to other monasteries, or to poor clerks and
students. It was considered a sacred duty thus to share the benefits of
the books with others; but sometimes the custodians of the precious
volumes, aware of the failures of memory to which book-borrowers have
ever been peculiarly liable, were so averse from running the risk of
lending that the libraries were placed under anathema, and could not be
lent under pain of excommunication. But the selfishness and injustice of
such a practice being recognised, it was formally condemned by the
Council of Paris in 1212, and the anathemas annulled. Anathemas were
also pronounced against any who should steal or otherwise alienate a
book from its lawful owners.
But as even in mediæval days there were those who loved books better
than honesty, the loan of a volume was accompanied by legal forms and
ceremonies, and the borrower, whatever his station or character, had to
sign a bond for the due return of the work, and often to deposit
security as well. Thus, when about 1225 the Dean of York presented
several Bibles for the use of the students of Oxford, he did so on
condition that those who used them should deposit a cautionary pledge.
Again, in 1299, John de Pontissara, Bishop of Winchester, borrowed from
the convent of St Swithun the _Bibliam bene glossatum_, i.e. the Bible
with annotations, and gave a bond for its return. And in 1471, when
books had become much more common, no less a person than the King of
France, desiring to borrow some Arabian medical works from the Faculty
of Medicine at Paris, had not only to deposit some costly plate as
security, but to find a nobleman to act as surety with him for the
return of the books, under pain of a heavy forfeit.
Many of the great monastic libraries owed their origin to the liberality
of one donor, usually an ecclesiastic. Among other libraries destroyed
by the Danes was the fine collection of books at Wearmouth monastery,
made by Benedict Biscop, the first English book collector, who was so
eager in the cause of books that he is said to have made no less than
five journeys to Rome in order to search for them. Part of his library
was given to the Abbey at Jarrow, and shared the same fate as the books
at Wearmouth.
One of the earliest English libraries was that of Christ Church, _i.e._
the Cathedral, at Canterbury. On the authority of the Canterbury Book, a
fifteenth century manuscript preserved at Cambridge, this library began
with the nine books said to have been brought from Rome by St Augustine.
These nine books were a Bible in two volumes, a Psalter, a Book of
Gospels, the Lives of the Apostles, the Lives of the Martyrs, and an
Exposition of the Gospels and Epistles. This collection was enriched by
the magnificent scriptural and classical volumes brought from the
continent by Archbishop Theodore in the seventh century. Under
Archbishop Chicheley, in the fifteenth century, this library was
provided with a dwelling of its own, built over the Prior's Chapel, and
containing sixteen bookcases of four shelves each. At this time a
catalogue was already in existence, made by Prior Eastry at the end of
the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth century, and records about
three thousand volumes.
The monastery of St Mary's at York owned a library which was founded by
Archbishop Egbert. Egbert's pupil Alcuin, whom Charlemagne charged with
the care of the educational interests of his empire, soon after taking
up his residence at St Martin's at Tours, desired the emperor to send to
Britain for "those books which we so much need; thus transplanting into
France the flowers of Britain, that the garden of Paradise may not be
confined to York, but may send some of its scions to Tours."
Richard de Bury, the famous old book collector or bibliomaniac to whom
reference has already been made, bequeathed his books, which outnumbered
all other collections in this country, to the University of Oxford,
where they were housed in Durham College, which he had endowed. He has
left an interesting account of how he gathered his treasures, which may
fitly be quoted here. Aided by royal favour, he tells us, "we acquired a
most ample facility of visiting at pleasure and of hunting as it were
some of the most delightful coverts, the public and private libraries
both of the regulars and the seculars.... Then the cabinets of the most
notable monasteries were opened, cases were unlocked, caskets were
unclasped, and astonished volumes which had slumbered for long ages in
their sepulchres were roused up, and those that lay hid in dark places
were overwhelmed with a new light.... Thus the sacred vessels of science
came into the power of our disposal, some being given, some sold, and
not a few lent for a time." The embassies with which he was charged by
Edward III. gave him opportunity for hunting continental coverts also.
"What a rush of the flood of pleasure rejoiced our hearts as often as
we visited Paris, the paradise of the world!... There, in very deed,
with an open treasury and untied purse-strings, we scattered money with
a light heart, and redeemed inestimable books with dirt and dust."
Richard de Bury also furthered his collection by making friends of the
mendicant friars, and "allured them with the most familiar affability
into a devotion to his person, and having allured, cherished them for
the love of God with munificent liberality." The affability and
liberality of the good bishop attained their object, and the devoted
friars went about everywhere, searching and finding, and whenever he
visited them, placed the treasures of their houses at his disposal.
Although the mendicant orders were originally forbidden property of any
kind, this rule was afterwards greatly relaxed, especially as regards
books, and in Richard de Bury's time the friars had amassed large
libraries and were well-known as keen collectors.
In France it was not an uncommon practice for a monastery to levy a tax
on its members or its dependent houses for the increase of its library,
and in several houses it was customary for a novice to present writing
materials at his entry and a book at the conclusion of his novitiate. As
early as the close of the eleventh century Marchwart, Abbot of Corvey in
North Germany, made it a rule that every novice on making his profession
should add a book to the library.
The monastic libraries met their doom at the time of the Reformation and
of the suppression of the religious houses. Nearly all the books at
Oxford, including the gifts of Richard de Bury, were burnt by the mob,
and under Elizabeth the royal commissioners ordered the destruction of
all "capes, vestments, albes, missals, books, crosses, and such other
idolatrous and superstitious monuments whatsoever." Since those who
ought to have been more enlightened classed missals and books among
idolatrous and superstitious monuments, it is not to be wondered at that
the ignorant and undiscriminating mob should glory in their wanton
destruction. Books that escaped the fire or the fury of the mob were put
to various uses as waste paper. They were employed for "scouring
candlesticks and cleaning boots," for the wrapping up of the wares of
"grocers and soap-sellers," and were exported by shiploads for the use
of continental bookbinders. On the continent, too, fire, wars, plunder,
and suppression dispersed or destroyed many of the monastic collections.
A comparatively recent instance of book destruction caused by the fury
of the rabble is afforded by the great losses undergone by Bristol
Cathedral library in the riots which took place in connection with the
passing of the Reform Bill. The palace was set on fire, and the library,
which was lodged in the Chapter-house, was brought out and most of the
volumes hurled into the flames. Others were thrown into the river, into
ditches, and about the streets, and although about eleven hundred were
subsequently recovered from second-hand clothes dealers and marine
stores, only two copies and one set remained intact.
As a natural consequence of the revival of learning in the fourteenth
century, private libraries began to increase in size and in number, and
the collection of books was no longer left to monks and priests. King
John of France gathered a little library, some say of only twenty
volumes, which laid the foundation of the great Royal Library, now the
Bibliothèque Nationale. These he bequeathed to his son, Charles V., who
increased the number to nine hundred, for his known fondness for books
and reading obtained for him presentation volumes from many of his
subjects. His books included works of devotion, astrology, medicine,
law, history, and romance, with a few classical authors. Most of them
were finely written on vellum, and sumptuously bound in jewelled and
gold-bedecked covers. They were lodged in three rooms in the Louvre, in
a tower called "La Tour de la libraire." These rooms had wainscots of
Irish [bog?] oak, and ceilings of cypress "curiously carved." According
to Henault, the library of the Louvre was sent to England by the Duke of
Bedford while Regent of France, and only a few volumes afterwards found
their way back to Paris.
One of the finest libraries of this period was possessed by Philippe le
Bon, Duke of Burgundy. It contained nearly two thousand volumes, mostly
magnificent folios clothed in silk and satin, and ornamented with gold
and precious stones. Books were now the fashion, the fashionable
possessions, the fashionable gifts, among those who were wealthy enough
to afford them. Louis de Bruges, Seigneur de la Gruthyse, was another
famous collector, whose books were no less splendid in their size,
beauty and costliness, than those of the Duke of Burgundy. His
collection was afterwards added to the Royal Library, and some of its
treasures still exist in the Bibliothèque Nationale.
The rich and cultured of Italy were also busily collecting books and
forming libraries. A library was made by Cardinal Bessarion at a cost of
thirty thousand sequins, and afterwards became the property of the
church of St Mark at Venice. Venice already possessed a small collection
of books given to it by Petrarch, but the gift was so little thought of
that it lay neglected in the Palazzo Molina until some of the volumes
had crumbled to powder, and others had petrified, as it were, through
the damp.
Of English collectors of this period Richard de Bury was the most
famous. As has already been stated, he possessed the largest number of
books in the country, and these he bequeathed to the University of
Oxford. The Aungervyle Library, as it was called, was destroyed at the
Reformation. Guy de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, also had a very fine
collection. He preferred romances, however, to theology or law, and his
library contained many such works. At his death he bequeathed it to the
Abbey of Bordesley, in Worcestershire.
The English kings had not as yet paid much attention to books. Eleven
are mentioned in the wardrobe accounts as belonging to Edward I., and
not until the time of Henry VII. was any serious consideration given to
the formation of the Royal Library.
Among the more famous continental book collectors of a later period were
Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary, and Frederick, Duke of Urbino. The
library of the King of Hungary perhaps excelled all others in its size
and splendour. It is said to have contained nearly fifty thousand
volumes, but only a comparatively small number survived the barbarous
attack of the Turks, who stole the jewels from the bindings and
destroyed the books themselves. The Duke of Urbino's library was
scarcely less magnificent, and was distinguished by its completeness.
All obtainable works were represented, and no imperfect copies admitted.
The duke had thirty-four transcribers in his service.
After the monastic libraries had been destroyed, and when old ideas were
beginning to give place to new, the restrictions formerly placed on the
reading of the Scriptures by the people at large were withdrawn. In an
Injunction, dated 1559, Elizabeth ordered that the people were to be
exhorted to read the Bible, not discouraged, and she directed the clergy
to provide at the parish expense a book of the whole Bible in English
within three months, and within twelve months a copy of Erasmus'
Paraphrases upon the Gospels, also in English. These books were to be
set up in the church for the use and reading of the parishioners. The
chain is not mentioned in the Injunction, but was probably adopted as a
matter of course. Chained books in churches thus became common, and
besides the Bible, very generally included copies of Fox's _Book of
Martyrs_ and Jewel's _Apology for the Church of England_. The chained
books at St Luke's, Chelsea, consist of a Vinegar Bible, a Prayer Book,
the Homilies, and two copies of the _Book of Martyrs_.
The custom of chaining books, as we have seen, was followed in the
college libraries, and obtained also in church libraries in England and
on the continent. Among the still existing libraries whose books are
thus secured are those of Hereford Cathedral and Wimborne Minster in
England, and the church of St Wallberg at Zutphen, in Holland. The last,
however, was not always chained, and thereby hangs a tale. Once upon a
time the Devil, having a spite against the good books of which it was
composed, despoiled it of some of its best volumes. The mark of his
cloven hoof upon the flagged floor gave the clue to the identity of the
thief, whereupon the custodians of the books had them secured by chains
sprinkled with holy water, by which means the malice of the Evil One was
made of none effect.