_Duties of the monkish librarian.--Rules of the library.--Lending
books.--Books allowed the monks for private reading.--Ridiculous
signs for books.--How the libraries were supported.--A monkish
blessing on books, etc._
In this chapter I shall proceed to inquire into the duties of the monkish
amanuensis, and show by what laws and regulations the monastic libraries
were governed. The monotonous habits of a cloistered bibliophile will,
perhaps, appear dry and fastidious, but still it is curious and
interesting to observe how carefully the monks regarded their vellum
tomes, how indefatigably they worked to increase their stores, and how
eagerly they sought for books. But besides being regarded as a literary
curiosity, the subject derives importance by the light it throws on the
state of learning in those dark and "bookless" days, and the
illustrations gleaned in this way fully compensate for the tediousness of
the research.
As a bibliophile it is somewhat pleasing to trace a deep book passion
growing up in the barrenness of the cloister, and to find in some cowled
monk a bibliomaniac as warm and enthusiastic in his way as the renowned
"Atticus," or the noble Roxburghe, of more recent times. It is true we
can draw no comparison between the result of their respective labors. The
hundreds, which in the old time were deemed a respectable if not an
extensive collection, would look insignificant beside the ostentatious
array of modern libraries.
But the very tenor of a monastic life compelled the monk to seek the
sweet yet silent companionship of books; the rules of his order and the
regulations of his fraternity enforced the strictest silence in the
execution of his daily and never-ceasing duties. Attending mass, singing
psalms, and midnight prayers, were succeeded by mass, psalms and prayers
in one long undeviating round of yearly obligations; the hours
intervening between these holy exercises were dull and tediously
insupportable if unoccupied. Conversation forbidden, secular amusements
denounced, yet idleness reproached, what could the poor monk seek as a
relief in this distress but the friendly book; the willing and obedient
companion of every one doomed to lonely hours and dismal solitude?
The pride and glory of a monastery was a well stored library, which was
committed to the care of the armarian, and with him rested all the
responsibility of its preservation. According to the Consuetudines
Canonicorum Regularium, it was his duty to have all the books of the
monastery in his keeping catalogued and separately marked with their
proper names.[16] Some of these old catalogues have been preserved, and,
viewed as bibliographical remains of the middle ages, are of considerable
importance; indeed, we cannot form a correct idea of the literature of
those remote times without them. Many productions of authors are recorded
in these brief catalogues whose former existence is only known to us by
these means. There is one circumstance in connexion with them that must
not be forgotten: instead of enumerating all the works which each volume
contained, they merely specified the first, so that a catalogue of fifty
or a hundred volumes might probably have contained nearly double that
number of distinct works. I have seen MSS. formerly belonging to
monasteries, which have been catalogued in this way, containing four or
five others, besides the one mentioned. Designed rather to identify the
book than to describe the contents of each volume, they wrote down the
first word or two of the second leaf--this was the most prevalent usage;
but they often adopted other means, sometimes giving a slight notice of
the works which a volume contained; others took the precaution of noting
down the last word of the last leaf but one,[17] a great advantage, as
the monkish student could more easily detect at a glance whether the
volume was perfect. The armarian was, moreover, particularly enjoined to
inspect with scrupulous care the more ancient volumes, lest the
moth-worms should have got at them, or they had become corrupt or
mutilated, and, if such were the case, he was with great care to restore
them. Probably the armarian was also the bookbinder to the monastery in
ordinary cases, for he is here directed to cover the volumes with tablets
of wood, that the inside may be preserved from moisture, and the
parchment from the injurious effects of dampness. The different orders of
books were to be kept separate from one another, and conveniently
arranged; not squeezed too tight, lest it should injure or confuse them,
but so placed that they might be easily distinguished, and those who
sought them might find them without delay or impediment.[18]
Bibliomaniacs have not been remarkable for their memory or punctuality,
and in the early times the borrower was often forgetful to return the
volume within the specified time. To guard against this, many rules were
framed, nor was the armarian allowed to lend the books, even to
neighboring monasteries, unless he received a bond or promise to restore
them within a certain time, and if the person was entirely unknown, a
book of equal value was required as a security for its safe return. In
all cases the armarian was instructed to make a short memorandum of the
name of the book which he had lent or received. The "great and precious
books" were subject to still more stringent rules, and although under the
conservation of the librarian, he had not the privilege of lending them
to any one without the distinct permission of the abbot.[19] This was,
doubtless, practised by all the monastic libraries, for all generously
lent one another their books. In a collection of chapter orders of the
prior and convent of Durham, bearing date 1235, it is evident that a
similar rule was observed there, which they were not to depart from
except at the desire of the bishop.[20] According to the constitutions
for the government of the Abingdon monastery, the library was under the
care of the Cantor, and all the writings of the church were consigned to
his keeping. He was not allowed to part with the books or lend them
without a sufficient deposit as a pledge for their safe return, except to
persons of consequence and repute.[21] This was the practice at a much
later period. When that renowned bibliomaniac, Richard de Bury, wrote his
delightful little book called _Philobiblon_, the same rules were strictly
in force. With respect to the lending of books, his own directions are
that, if any one apply for a particular volume, the librarian was to
carefully consider whether the library contained another copy of it; if
so, he was at liberty to lend the book, taking care, however, that he
obtained a security which was to exceed the value of the loan; they were
at the same time to make a memorandum in writing of the name of the book,
and the nature of the security deposited for it, with the name of the
party to whom it was lent, with that of the officer or librarian who
delivered it.[22]
We learn by the canons before referred to, that the superintendence of
all the writing and transcribing, whether in or out of the monastery,
belonged to the office of the armarian, and that it was his duty to
provide the scribes with parchment and all things necessary for their
work, and to agree upon the price with those whom he employed. The monks
who were appointed to write in the cloisters he supplied with copies for
transcription; and that no time might be wasted, he was to see that a
good supply was kept up. No one was to give to another what he himself
had been ordered to write, or presume to do anything by his own will or
inclination. Nor was it seemly that the armarian even should give any
orders for transcripts to be made without first receiving the permission
of his superior.[23]
We here catch a glimpse of the quiet life of a monkish student, who
labored with this monotonous regularity to amass his little library. If
we dwell on these scraps of information, we shall discover some marks of
a love of learning among them, and the liberality they displayed in
lending their books to each other is a pleasing trait to dwell upon. They
unhesitatingly imparted to others the knowledge they acquired by their
own study with a brotherly frankness and generosity well becoming the
spirit of a student. This they did by extensive correspondence and the
temporary exchange of their books. The system of loan, which they in
this manner carried on to a considerable extent, is an important feature
in connection with our subject; innumerable and interesting instances of
this may be found in the monastic registers, and the private letters of
the times. The cheapness of literary productions of the present age
render it an absolute waste of time to transcribe a whole volume, and
except with books of great scarcity we seldom think of borrowing or
lending one; having finished its perusal we place it on the shelf and in
future regard it as a book of reference; but in those days one volume did
the work of twenty. It was lent to a neighboring monastery, and this
constituted its publication; for each monastery thus favored, by the aid
perhaps of some half dozen scribes, added a copy to their own library,
and it was often stipulated that on the return of the original a correct
duplicate should accompany it, as a remuneration to its author. Nor was
the volume allowed to remain unread; it was recited aloud at meals, or
when otherwise met together, to the whole community. We shall do well to
bear this in mind, and not hastily judge of the number of students by a
comparison with the number of their books. But it was not always a mere
single volume that the monks lent from their library. Hunter has
printed[24] a list of books lent by the Convent of Henton, A. D. 1343, to
a neighboring monastery, containing twenty volumes. The engagement to
restore these books was formally drawn up and sealed.
In the monasteries the first consideration was to see that the library
was well stored with those books necessary for the performance of the
various offices of the church, but besides these the library ought,
according to established rules, to contain for the "edification of the
brothers" such as were fit and needful to be consulted in common study.
The Bible and great expositors; _Bibliothecæ et majores expositores_,
books of martyrs, lives of saints, homilies, etc.;[25] these and other
large books the monks were allowed to take and study in private, but the
smaller ones they could only study in the library, lest they should be
lost or mislaid. This was also the case with respect to the rare and
choice volumes. When the armarian gave out books to the monks he made a
note of their nature, and took an exact account of their number, so that
he might know in a moment which of the brothers had it for perusal.[26]
Those who studied together were to receive what books they choose; but
when they had satisfied themselves, they were particularly directed to
restore them to their assigned places; and when they at any time received
from the armarian a book for their private reading, they were not allowed
to lend it to any one else, or to use it in common, but to reserve it
especially for his own private reading. The same rule extended to the
singers, who if they required books for their studies, were to apply to
the abbot.[27] The sick brothers were also entitled to the privilege of
receiving from the armarian books for their solace and comfort; but as
soon as the lamps were lighted in the infirmary the books were put away
till the morning, and if not finished, were again given out from the
library.[28] In the more ancient monasteries a similar case was observed
with respect to their books. The rule of St. Pacome directed that the
utmost attention should be paid to their preservation, and that when the
monks went to the refectory they were not to leave their books open, but
to carefully close and put them in their assigned places. The monastery
of St. Pacome contained a vast number of monks; every house, says
Mabillon, was composed of not less than forty monks, and the monastery
embraced thirty or forty houses. Each monk, he adds, possessed his book,
and few rested without forming a library; by which we may infer that the
number of books was considerable.[29] Indeed, it was quite a common
practice in those days, scarce as books were, to allow each of the monks
one or more for his private study, besides granting them access to the
library. The constitutions of Lanfranc, in the year 1072, directed the
librarian, at the commencement of Lent, to deliver a book to each of the
monks for their private reading, allowing them a whole year for its
perusal.[30] There is one circumstance connected with the affairs of the
library quite characteristic of monkish superstition, and bearing painful
testimony to their mistaken ideas of what constituted "good works." In
Martene's book there is a chapter, _De Scientia et Signis_--degrading and
sad; there is something withal curious to be found in it. After enjoining
the most scrupulous silence in the church, in the refectory, in the
cloister, and in the dormitory, at all times, and in all seasons;
transforming those men into perpetual mutes, and even when "actually
necessary," permitting only a whisper to be articulated "in a low voice
in the ear," _submissa voce in aure_, it then proceeds to describe a
series of fantastic grimaces which the monks were to perform on applying
to the armarian for books. The general sign for a book, _generali signi
libri_, was to "extend the hand and make a movement as if turning over
the leaves of a book." For a missal the monk was to make a similar
movement with a sign of the cross; for the gospels the sign of the cross
on the forehead; for an antiphon or book of responses he was to strike
the thumb and little finger of the other hand together; for a book of
offices or gradale to make the sign of a cross and kiss the fingers; for
a tract lay the hand on the abdomen and apply the other hand to the
mouth; for a capitulary make the general sign and extend the clasped
hands to heaven; for a psalter place the hands upon the head in the form
of a crown, such as the king is wont to wear.[31] Religious intolerance
was rampant when this rule was framed; hot and rancorous denunciation was
lavished with amazing prodigality against works of loose morality or
heathen origin; nor did the monks feel much compassion--although they
loved to read them--for the old authors of antiquity. Pagans they were,
and therefore fit only to be named as infidels and dogs, so the monk was
directed for a secular book, "which some pagan wrote after making the
general sign to scratch his ear with his hand, just as a dog itching
would do with his feet, because infidels are not unjustly compared to
such creatures--_quia nec immerito infideles tali animanti
contparantur_."[32] Wretched bigotry and puny malice! Yet what a sad
reflection it is, that with all the foul and heartburning examples which
those dark ages of the monks afford, posterity have failed to profit by
them--religious intolerance, with all its vain-glory and malice,
flourishes still, the cankering worm of many a Christian blossom! Besides
the duties which we have enumerated, there were others which it was the
province of the armarian to fulfil. He was particularly to inspect and
collate those books which, according to the decrees of the church, it was
unlawful to possess different from the authorized copies; these were the
bible, the gospels, missals, epistles, collects graduales, antiphons,
hymns, psalters, lessions, and the monastic rules; these were always to
be alike even in the most minute point.[33] He was moreover directed to
prepare for the use of the brothers short tables respecting the times
mentioned in the capitulary for the various offices of the church, to
make notes upon the matins, the mass, and upon the different orders.[34]
In fact, the monkish amanuensis was expected to undertake all those
matters which required care and learning combined. He wrote the letters
of the monastery, and often filled the office of secretary to my Lord
Abbot. In the monasteries of course the services of the librarian were
unrequited by any pecuniary remuneration, but in the cathedral libraries
a certain salary was sometimes allowed them. Thus we learn that the
amanuensis of the conventual church of Ely received in the year 1372
forty-three shillings and fourpence for his annual duties;[35] and
Oswald, Bishop of Worcester, in the tenth century, gave considerable
landed possessions to a monk of that church as a recompense for his
services as librarian.[36] In some monasteries, in the twelfth century,
if not earlier, they levied a tax on all the members of the community,
who paid a yearly sum to the librarian for binding, preserving, and
purchasing copies for the library. One of these rules, bearing date 1145,
was made by Udon, Abbot of St. Père en Vallée à Chantres, and that it
might be more plausibly received, he taxed himself as well as all the
members of his own house.[37] The librarian sometimes, in addition to his
regular duties, combined the office of precentor to the monastery.[38]
Some of their account-books have been preserved, and by an inspection of
them, we may occasionally gather some interesting and curious hints, as
to the cost of books and writing materials in those times. As may be
supposed, the monkish librarians often became great bibliophiles, for
being in constant communication with choice manuscripts, they soon
acquired a great mania for them. Posterity are also particularly indebted
to the pens of these book conservators of the middle ages; for some of
the best chroniclers and writers of those times were humble librarians to
some religious house.
Not only did the bibliophiles of old exercise the utmost care in the
preservation of their darling books, but the religious basis of their
education and learning prompted them to supplicate the blessing of God
upon their goodly tomes. Although I might easily produce other instances,
one will suffice to give an idea of their nature: "O Lord, send the
virtue of thy Holy Spirit upon these our books; that cleansing them from
all earthly things, by thy holy blessing, they may mercifully enlighten
our hearts and give us true understanding; and grant that by thy
teaching, they may brightly preserve and make full an abundance of good
works according to thy will."[39]
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Cap. xxi. Martene de Antiquis Ecclesiæ Ritibus, tom. iii. p.
262.
[17] See Catalogue of Hulne Abbey, Library MS. Harleian. No. 3897.
[18] Martene de Antiq. Eccle. Rit., tom. iii. p. 263.
[19] _Ibid._ Ingulphus tells us that the same rule was observed in
Croyland Abbey.--_Apud Gale_, p. 104.
[20] Marked b. iv. 26. Surtee Publications, vol. i. p. 121.
[21] Const. admiss. Abbat, et gubernatione Monast. Abendum Cottonian
M.S. Claudius, b. vi. p. 194.
[22] Philobiblon, 4to. _Oxon_, 1599, chap. xix.
[23] Martene de Ant. Eccl. Ribibus, tom. iii. p. 263. For an
inattention to this the Council of Soissons, in 1121, ordered some
transcripts of Abelard's works to be burnt, and severely reproved
the author for his unpardonable neglect.--_Histoire Littéraire de la
France_, tom. ix. p. 28.
[24] Catalogues of Monastic Libraries, pp. 16, 17.
[25] Const. Canon. Reg. ap. Martene, tom. iii. p. 263.
[26] _Ibid._
[27] _Ibid._, tom. iii. cap. xxxvi. pp. 269, 270.
[28] Martene, tom. iii. p. 331. For a list of some books applied to
their use, see MS. Cot. Galba, c. iv. fo. 128.
[29] Mabillon, Traité des Etudes Monastiques, 4to. _Paris_ 1691,
cap. vi. p. 34.
[30] Wilkin's Concil. tom. i. p. 332.
[31] Stat. pro Reform. ordin. Grandimont. ap. Martene cap. x.
[32] _Ibid._, tom. iv. pp. 289, 339.
[33] Const. Canon. Reg. ap. Martene, tom. iii. p. 263.
[34] _Ibid._, cap. xxi. p. 263.
[35] Stevenson's Supple. to Bentham's Hist. of the Church of Ely, p.
51.
[36] Thomas' Survey of the Church of Worcester, p. 45.
[37] Mabillon. Annal. tom. vi. pp. 651 and 652. Hist. Litt. de la
France, ix. p. 140.
[38] They managed the pecuniary matters of the fraternity. William
of Malmsbury was precentor as well as librarian to his monastery.
[39] Martene de Antiq. Eccl. Ritibus ii. p. 302.