_Lindesfarne.--St. Cuthbert's Gospels.--Destruction of the
Monastery.--Alcuin's Letter on the occasion.--Removal to
Durham.--Carelepho.--Catalogue of Durham Library.--Hugh de
Pusar.--Anthony Bek.--Richard de Bury and his Philobiblon, etc._
The Benedictine monastery of Lindesfarne, or the Holy Island, as it was
called, was founded through the instrumentality of Oswald, the son of
Ethelfrith, king of Northumberland, who was anxious for the promulgation
of the Christian faith within his dominions. Aidan, the first bishop of
whom we have any distinct account, was appointed about the year 635. Bede
tells us that he used frequently to retire to the Isle of Farne, that he
might pray in private and be undisturbed.[153] This small island, distant
about nine miles from the church of Lindesfarne, obtained great
celebrity from St. Cuthbert, who sought that quiet spot and led there a
lonely existence in great continence of mind and body.[154] In 685 he was
appointed to the see of Lindesfarne, where, by his pious example and
regular life, he instructed many in their religious duties. The name of
this illustrious saint is intimately connected with a most magnificent
specimen of calligraphical art of the eighth century, preserved in the
British Museum,[155] and well known by the name of the Durham Book, or
Saint Cuthbert's Gospels; it was written some years after the death of
that Saint, in honor of his memory, by Egfrith, a monk of Lindesfarne,
who was made bishop of that see in the year 698. At Egfrith's death in
721, his successor, Æthilwald, most beautifully bound it in gold and
precious stones, and Bilfrid, a hermit, richly illuminated it by
prefixing to each gospel a beautiful painting representing one of the
Evangelists, and a tesselated cross, executed in a most elaborate manner.
He also displayed great skill by illuminating the large capital letters
at the commencement of each gospel.[156] Doubtless, the hermit Bilfrid
was an eminent artist in his day. Aldred, the Glossator, a priest of
Durham, about the year 950, still more enriched this precious volume by
interlining it with a Saxon Gloss, or version of the Latin text of St.
Jerome, of which the original manuscript is a copy.[157] It is
therefore, one of the most venerable of those early attempts to render
the holy scriptures into the vernacular tongue, and is on that account an
interesting relic to the Christian reader, and, no doubt, formed the
choicest volume in the library of Lindesfarne.[158]
But imperfectly, indeed, have I described the splendid manuscript which
is now lying, in all its charms, before me. And as I mark its fine old
illuminations, so bright in color, and so chaste in execution, the
accuracy of its transcription, and the uniform beauty of its calligraphy,
my imagination carries me back to the quiet cloister of the old Saxon
scribe who wrote it, and I can see in Egfrith, a bibliomaniac, of no mean
pretensions, and in Bilfrid, a monkish illuminator, well initiated in the
mysteries of his art. The manuscript contains 258 double columned folio
pages, and the paintings of the Evangelists each occupy an entire page.
We learn the history of its production from a very long note at the end
of the manuscript, written by the hand of the glossator.[159]
But sad misfortunes were in store for the holy monks, for about 793, or a
little earlier, when Highbald was abbot, the Danes burnt down the
monastery and murdered the ecclesiastics; "most dreadful lightnings and
other prodigies," says Simeon of Durham, "are said to have portended the
impending ruin of this place; on the 7th of June they came to the church
of Lindesfarne, miserably plundered all places, overthrew the altars, and
carried away all the treasures of the church, some of the monks they
slew, some they carried away captives, some they drowned in the sea, and
others much afflicted and abused they turned away naked."[160]
Fortunately some of the poor monks escaped, and after a short time
returned to their old spot, and with religious zeal set about repairing
the damage which the sacred edifice had sustained; after its restoration
they continued comparatively quiet till the time of Eardulfus, when the
Danes in the year 875, again invaded England and burned down the
monastery of Lindesfarne. The monks obtained some knowledge of their
coming and managed to effect their escape, taking with them the body of
St. Cuthbert, which they highly venerated, with many other honored
relics; they then set out with the bishop Eardulfus and the abbot Eadrid
at their head on a sort of pilgrimage to discover some suitable resting
place for the remains of their saint; but finding no safe locality, and
becoming fatigued by the irksomeness of the journey, they as a last
resource resolved to pass over to Ireland. For this purpose they
proceeded to the sea, but no sooner were they on board the ship than a
terrific storm arose, and had it not been for the fond care of their
patron saint, a watery grave would have been forever their resting
place; but, as it was, their lives were spared, and the holy bones
preserved to bless mankind, and work wondrous miracles in the old church
of the Saxon monks. Nevertheless, considerable damage was sustained, and
the fury of the angry waves forced them back again to the shore. The
monks deeming this an indication of God's will that they should remain,
decided upon doing so, and leaving the ship, they agreed to proceed on
their way rejoicing, and place still greater trust in the mercy of God
and the miraculous influence of St. Cuthbert's holy bones; but some whose
reliance on Divine providence appears not so conspicuous, became
dissatisfied, and separated from the rest till at last only seven monks
were left besides their bishop and abbot. Their relics were too numerous
and too cumbersome to be conveyed by so small a number, and they knew not
how to proceed; but one of the seven whose name was Hanred had a vision,
wherein he was told that they should repair to the sea, where they would
find a book of Gospels adorned with gold and precious stones, which had
been lost out of the ship when they were in the storm; and that after
that he should see a bridle hanging on a tree, which he should take down
and put upon a horse that would come to him, which horse he should put to
a cart he would also find, to carry the holy body, which would be an ease
to them. All these things happening accordingly, they travelled with more
comfort, following the horse, which way soever he should lead. The book
above mentioned was no ways damaged by the water, and is still preserved
in the library at Durham,[161] where it remained till the Reformation,
when it was stript of its jewelled covering, and after passing through
many hands, ultimately came into the possession of Sir Robert Cotton, in
whose collection, as we have said before, it is now preserved in the
British Museum.
I cannot refrain, even at the risk of incurring some blame for my
digression, presenting the reader with a part of a letter full of
fraternal love, which Alcuin addressed to the monks of Lindesfarne on
this sad occasion.
"Your dearest fraternity," says he, "was wont to afford me much joy. But
now how different! though absent, I deeply lament the more your
tribulations and calamities; the manner in which the Pagans contaminate
the sanctuaries of God, and shed the blood of saints around the altar,
devastating the joy of our house, and trampling on the bodies of holy men
in the temple of God, as though they were treading on a dunghill in the
street. But of what effect is our wailing unless we come before the
altars of Christ and cry, 'Spare me, O Lord! spare thy people, and take
not thine inheritance from them;' nor let the Pagans say, 'Where is the
God of the Christians?' Besides who is to pacify the churches of Britain,
if St. Cuthbert cannot defend them with so great a number of saints?
Nevertheless do not trouble the mind about these things, for God
chasteneth all the sons whom he receiveth, and therefore perhaps afflicts
you the more, because he the more loveth you. Jerusalem, the delightful
city of God, was lost by the Chaldean scourge; and Rome, the city of the
holy Apostles and innumerable martyrs, was surrounded by the Pagans and
devastated. Well nigh the whole of Europe is evacuated by the scourging
sword of the Goths or the Huns. But in the same manner in which God
preserved the stars to illuminate the heavens, so will He preserve the
churches to ornament, and in their office to strengthen and increase the
Christian religion."[162]
Thus it came to pass that Eardulphus was the last bishop of Lindesfarne
and the first of Cunecacestre, or Chester-upon-the-Street, to which place
his see was removed previous to its final settlement at Durham.
After a succession of many bishops, some recorded as learned and bookish
by monkish annalists, and nearly all benefactors in some way to their
church, we arrive at the period when Aldwine was consecrated bishop of
that see in the year 990. The commotions of his time made his presidency
a troubled and harassing one. Sweyn, king of Denmark, and Olauis, king of
Norway, invaded England, and spreading themselves in bodies over the
kingdom, committed many and cruel depredations; a strong body of these
infested the northern coast, and approached the vicinity of
Chester-on-the-Street. This so alarmed Aldwine, that he resolved to quit
his church--for the great riches and numerous relics of that holy place
were attractive objects to the plundering propensities of the invaders.
Carrying, therefore, the bones of St. Cuthbert with them--for that box of
mortal dust was ever precious in the sight of those old monks--and the
costly treasures of the church, not forgetting their books, the monks
fled to Ripon, and the see, which after similar adversities their
predecessors one hundred and thirteen years ago had settled at Chester,
was forever removed. It is true three or four months after, as Symeon of
Durham tells us, they attempted to return, but when they reached a place
called Werdelan, "on the east and near unto Durham," they could not move
the bier on which the body of St. Cuthbert was carried, although they
applied their united strength to effect it. The superstition, or perhaps
simplicity, of the monks instantly interpreted this into a manifestation
of divine interference, and they resolved not to return again to their
old spot. And we are further told that after three days' fasting and
prayer, the Lord vouchsafed to reveal to them that they should bear the
saintly burden to Durham, a command which they piously and cheerfully
obeyed. Having arrived there, they fixed on a wild and uncultivated site,
and making a simple oratory of wattles for the temporary reception of
their relics, they set zealously to work--for these old monks well knew
what labor was--to cut down wood, to clear the ground, and build an
habitation for themselves. Shortly after, in the wilderness of that
neglected spot, the worthy bishop Aldwine erected a goodly church of
stone to the honor of God, and as a humble tribute of gratitude and love;
and so it was that Aldwine, the last bishop of Chester-on-the-Street,
was the first of Durham.
When William Carelepho, a Norman monk, was consecrated bishop, the church
had so increased in wealth and usefulness, that fresh wants arose, more
space was requisite, and a grander structure would be preferable; the
bishop thereupon pulled the old church of Aldwine down and commenced the
erection of a more magnificent one in its place, as the beauty of Durham
cathedral sufficiently testifies even now; and will not the lover of
artistic beauty award his praise to the Norman bishop--those massive
columns and stupendous arches excite the admiring wonder of all; built on
a rocky eminence and surrounded by all the charms of a romantic scenery,
it is one of the finest specimens of architecture which the enthusiasm of
monkish days dedicated to piety and to God. Its liberal founder however
did not live to see it finished, for he died in the year 1095, two years
after laying its foundation stone. His bookloving propensities have been
honorably recorded, and not only was he fond of reading, but kept the
pens of the scribes in constant motion, and used himself to superintend
the transcription of manuscripts, as the colophon of a folio volume in
Durham library fully proves.[163] The monkish bibliophiles of his church
received from him a precious gift of about 40 volumes, containing among
other valuable books Prosper, Pompeii, Tertullian, and a great Bible in
two volumes.[164]
It would have been difficult perhaps to have found in those days a body
of monks so "bookish" as those of Durham; not only did they transcribe
with astonishing rapidity, proving that there was no want of vellum
there, but they must have bought or otherwise collected a great number of
books; for the see of Durham, in the early part of the 12th century,
could show a library embracing nearly 300 volumes.[165]
Nor let the reader imagine that the collection possessed no merit in a
literary point of view, or that the monks cared for little else save
legends of saints or the literature of the church; the catalogue proves
them to have enjoyed a more liberal and a more refined taste, and again
display the cloistered students of the middle ages as the preservers of
classic learning. This is a point worth observing on looking over the old
parchment catalogues of the monks; for as by their Epistles we obtain a
knowledge of their intimacy with the old writers, and the use they made
of them, so by their catalogues we catch a glimpse of the means they
possessed of becoming personally acquainted with their beauties; by the
process much light may be thrown on the gloom of those long past times,
and perhaps we shall gain too a better view of the state of learning
existing then. But that the reader may judge for himself, I extract the
names of some of the writers whom the monks of Durham preserved and
read:
Alcuin.
Ambrose.
Aratores.
Anselm.
Augustine.
Aviany.
Bede.
Boethius.
Bernard.
Cassian.
Cassiodorus.
Claudius.
Cyprian.
Donatus.
Esop.
Eutropius.
Galen.
Gregory.
Haimo.
Horace.
Homer.
Hugo.
Juvenal.
Isidore.
Josephus.
Lucan.
Marcianus.
Maximian.
Orosius.
Ovid.
Prudentius.
Prosper.
Persius.
Priscian.
Peter Lombard.
Plato.
Pompeius Trogus.
Quintilian.
Rabanus.
Solinus.
Servius.
Statius.
Terence.
Tully.
Theodulus.
Virgil.
Gesta Anglorum.
Gesta Normanorum.
Hugh de Pussar,[166] consecrated bishop in 1153, is the next who attracts
our attention by his bibliomanical renown. He possessed perhaps the
finest copy of the Holy Scriptures of any private collector; and he
doubtless regarded his "_unam Bibliam in_ iv. _magnis voluminibus_," with
the veneration of a divine and the fondness of a student. He collected
what in those times was deemed a respectable library, and bequeathed no
less than sixty or seventy volumes to the Durham monks, including his
great Bible, which has ever since been preserved with religious care;
from a catalogue of them we learn his partiality for classical
literature; a Tully, Sedulus, Priscian, and Claudius, are mentioned among
them.[167]
Anthony Bek, who was appointed to the see in the year 1283, was a most
ambitious and haughty prelate, and caused great dissensions in his
church. History proves how little he was adapted for the responsible
duties of a bishop, and points to the field of battle or civil pomp as
most congenial to his disposition. He ostentatiously displayed the
splendor of a Palatine Prince, when he contributed his powerful aid to
the cause of his sovereign, in the Scottish war, by a retinue of 500
horse, 1000 foot, 140 knights, and 26 standard bearers,[168] rendered
doubly imposing in those days of saintly worship and credulity, by the
patronage of St. Cuthbert, under whole holy banner they marched against a
brave and noble foe. His arbitrary temper caused sad quarrels in the
cloister, which ultimately gave rise to a tedious law proceeding between
him and the prior about the year 1300;[169] from a record of this affair
we learn that the bishop had borrowed some books from the library which
afterwards he refused to return; there was among them a Decretal, a
history of England, a Missal, and a volume called "The book of St.
Cuthbert, in which the secrets of the monastery are written," which was
alone valued at £200,[170] probably in consideration of the important and
delicate matters contained therein.
These proceedings were instituted by prior Hoton, who was fond of books,
and had a great esteem for learning; he founded a college at Oxford for
the monkish students of his church.[171] On more than one occasion he
sent parcels of books to Oxford; in a list of an early date it appears
that the monks of Durham sent at one time twenty volumes, and shortly
after fifteen more, consisting principally of church books and lives of
saints.[172] The numbers thus taken from their library the monks, with
that love of learning for which they were so remarkable, anxiously
replaced, by purchasing about twenty volumes, many of which contained a
great number of small but choice pieces.[173]
Robert de Graystane, a monk of Durham, was elected bishop by the prior
and chapter, and confirmed on the 10th of November, 1333, but the king,
Edward III., wishing to advance his treasurer to that see, refused his
sanction to the proceeding; monk Robert was accordingly deposed, and
Richard Angraville received the mitre in his stead. He was consecrated on
the 19th of December in the same year, by John Stratford, archbishop of
Canterbury, and installed by proxy on the 10th of January, 1334.
Angraville, Aungerville, or as he is more commonly called Richard de
Bury, is a name which every bibliophile will honor and esteem; he was
indeed a bibliomaniac of the first order, and a sketch of his life is not
only indispensable here, but cannot fail to interest the book-loving
reader. But before entering more at large into his bookish propensities
and talents, it will be necessary to say something of his early days and
the illustrious career which attended his political and ecclesiastical
life. Richard de Bury, the son of Sir Richard Angraville, was born, as
his name implies, at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, in the year 1287.[174]
Great attention was paid to the instruction of his youthful mind by his
maternal uncle, John de Willowby, a priest, previous to his removal to
Oxford. At the university he obtained honorable distinction, as much for
his erudition and love of books as for the moral rectitude of his
behavior. These pleasing traits were the stepping stones to his future
greatness, and on the strength of them he was selected as one fully
competent to undertake the education of Edward Prince of Wales,
afterwards the third king of that name; and to Richard de Bury "may be
traced the love for literature and the arts displayed by his pupil when
on the throne. He was rewarded with the lucrative appointment of
treasurer of Gascony."[175]
When Edward, the prince of Wales, was sent to Paris to assume the
dominion of Guienne, which the king had resigned in his favor, he was
accompanied by queen Isabella, his mother, whose criminal frailty, and
afterwards conspiracy, with Mortimer, aroused the just indignation of her
royal husband; and commenced those civil dissensions which rendered the
reign of Edward II. so disastrous and turbulent. It was during these
commotions that Richard de Bury became a zealous partizan of the queen,
to whom he fled, and ventured to supply her pecuniary necessities from
the royal revenues; for this, however, he was surrounded with imminent
danger; for the king, instituting an inquiry into these proceedings,
attempted his capture, which he narrowly escaped by secreting himself in
the belfry of the convent of Brothers Minor at Paris.[176]
When the "most invincible and most magnificent king" Edward III. was
firmly seated upon the throne, dignity and power was lavishly bestowed on
this early bibliomaniac. In an almost incredible space of time he was
appointed cofferer to the king, treasurer of the wardrobe, archdeacon of
Northampton, prebendary of Lincoln, Sarum, Litchfield, and shortly
afterwards keeper of the privy seal, which office he held for five years.
During this time he twice undertook a visit to Italy, on a mission to the
supreme pontiff, John XXII., who not only entertained him with honor and
distinction, but appointed him chaplain to his principal chapel, and gave
him a bull, nominating him to the first vacant see in England.
He acquired whilst there an honor which reflected more credit than even
the smiles of his holiness--the brightest of the Italian poets, Petrarch
of never dying fame--bestowed upon him his acquaintance and lasting
friendship. De Bury entered Avignon for the first time in the same year
that Petrarch took up his residence there, in the house of Colonna,
bishop of Lombes: two such enlightened scholars and indefatigable book
collectors, sojourning in the same city, soon formed an intimacy.[177]
How interesting must their friendly meetings have been, and how
delightful the hours spent in Petrarch's library, which was one of great
extent and rarity; and it is probable too that De Bury obtained from the
poet a few treasures to enrich his own stores; for the generosity of
Petrarch was so excessive, that he could scarcely withhold what he knew
was so dearly coveted. His benevolence on one occasion deprived him and
posterity of an inestimable volume; he lent some manuscripts of the
classics to his old master, who, needing pecuniary aid, pawned them, and
Cicero's books, _De Gloria_, were in this manner irrecoverably lost.[178]
Petrarch acted like a true lover of learning; for when the shadows of old
age approached, he presented his library, full of rare and ancient
manuscripts, many of them enriched by his own notes, to the Venetian
Senate, and thus laid the foundation of the library of Saint-Marc; he
always employed a number of transcribers, who invariably accompanied him
on his journeys, and he kept horses to carry his books.[179] His love of
reading was intense. "Whether," he writes in one of his epistles, "I am
being shaved, or having my hair cut, whether I am riding on horseback or
taking my meals, I either read myself or get some one to read to me; on
the table where I dine, and by the side of my bed, I have all the
materials for writing."[180] With the friendship of such a student, how
charming must have been the visit of the English ambassador, and how much
valuable and interesting information must he have gleaned by his
intercourse with Petrarch and his books. At Rome Richard de Bury obtained
many choice volumes and rare old manuscripts of the classics; for at Rome
indeed, at that time, books had become an important article of commerce,
and many foreign collectors besides the English bibliomaniac resorted
there for these treasures: to such an extend was this carried on, that
the jealousy of Petrarch was aroused, who, in addressing the Romans,
exclaims: "Are you not ashamed that the wrecks of your ancient grandeur,
spared by the inundation of the barbarians, are daily sold by your
miscalculating avarice to foreigners? And that Rome is no where less
known and less loved than at Rome?"[181]
The immense ecclesiastical and civil revenues which Aungraville enjoyed,
enabled him whilst in Italy to maintain a most costly and sumptuous
establishment: in his last visit alone he is said to have expended 5,000
marks, and he never appeared in public without a numerous retinue of
twenty clerks and thirty-six esquires; an appearance which better became
the dignity of his civil office, than the Christian humility of his
ecclesiastical functions. On his return from this distinguished sojourn,
he was appointed, as we have said before, through the instrumentality of
Edward III., to the bishopric of Durham. But not content with these high
preferments, his royal master advanced him to still greater honor, and on
the 28th of September, 1334, he was made Lord Chancellor of England,
which office he filled till the 5th of June, 1335, when he exchanged it
for that of high treasurer. He was twice appointed ambassador to the king
of France, respecting the claims of Edward of England to the crown of
that country. De Bury, whilst negociating this affair, visited Antwerp
and Brabant for the furtherance of the object of his mission, and he
fully embraced this rare opportunity of adding to his literary stores,
and returned to his fatherland well laden with many choice and costly
manuscripts; for in all his perilous missions he carried about with him,
as he tells us, that love of books which many waters could not
extinguish, but which greatly sweetened the bitterness of peregrination.
Whilst at Paris he was especially assiduous in collecting, and he relates
with intense rapture, how many choice libraries he found there full of
all kinds of books, which tempted him to spend his money freely; and with
a gladsome heart he gave his dirty lucre for treasures so inestimable to
the bibliomaniac.
Before the commencement of the war which arose from the disputed claims
of Edward, Richard de Bury returned to enjoy in sweet seclusion his
bibliomanical propensities. The modern bibliophiles who know what it is
to revel in the enjoyment of a goodly library, luxuriant in costly
bindings and rich in bibliographical rarities, who are fully susceptible
to the delights and exquisite sensibilities of that sweet madness called
bibliomania, will readily comprehend the multiplied pleasures of that
early and illustrious bibliophile in the seclusion of Auckland Palace; he
there ardently applied his energies and wealth to the accumulation of
books; and whilst engaged in this pleasing avocation, let us endeavor to
catch a glimpse of him. Chambre, to whom we are indebted for many of the
above particulars, tells us that Richard de Bury was learned in the
governing of his house, hospitable to strangers, of great charity, and
fond of disputation with the learned, but he principally delighted in a
multitude of books, _Iste summe delectabatur multitudine librorum_,[182]
and possessed more books than all the bishops put together, an assertion
which requires some modification, and must not be too strictly regarded,
for book collecting at that time was becoming a favorite pursuit; still
the language of Chambre is expressive, and clearly proves how extensive
must have been his libraries, one of which he formed in each of his
various palaces, _diversis maneriis_. So engrossed was that worthy bishop
with the passion of book collecting, that his dormitory was strewed
_jucebant_ with them, in every nook and corner choice volumes were
scattered, so that it was almost impossible for any person to enter
without placing his feet upon some book.[183] He kept in regular
employment no small assemblage of antiquaries, scribes, bookbinders,
correctors, illuminators, and all such persons who were capable of being
useful in the service of books, _librorum servitiis utiliter_.[184]
During his retirement he wrote a book, from the perusal of which the
bibliomaniac will obtain a full measure of delight and instruction. It is
a faithful record of the life and experience of this bibliophile of the
olden time. He tells us how he collected his vellum treasures--his
"crackling tomes" so rich in illuminations and calligraphic art!--how he
preserved them, and how he would have others read them. Costly indeed
must have been the book gems he amassed together; for foreign countries,
as well as the scribes at home, yielded ample means to augment his
stores, and were incessantly employed in searching for rarities which his
heart yearned to possess. He completed his Philobiblon at his palace at
Auckland on the 24th of January, 1344.[185]
We learn from the prologue to this rare and charming little volume how
true and genuine a bibliomaniac was Richard de Bury, for he tells us
there, that a vehement love _amor excitet_ of books had so powerfully
seized all the faculties of his mind, that dismissing all other
avocations, he had applied the ardor of his thoughts to the acquisition
of books. Expense to him was quite an afterthought, and he begrudged no
amount to possess a volume of rarity or antiquity. Wisdom, he says, is an
infinite treasure _infinitus thesaurus_, the value of which, in his
opinion, was beyond all things; for how, he asks, can the sum be too
great which purchases such vast delight. We cannot admire the purity of
his Latin so much as the enthusiasm which pervades it; but in the eyes of
the bibliophile this will amply compensate for his minor imperfections.
When expatiating on the value of his books he appears to unbosom, as it
were, all the inward rapture of love. A very _helluo librorum_--a very
Maliabechi of a collector, yet he encouraged no selfish feeling to alloy
his pleasure or to mingle bitterness with the sweets of his avocation.
His knowledge he freely imparted to others, and his books he gladly lent.
This is apparent in the Philobiblon; and his generous spirit warms his
diction--not always chaste--into a fluent eloquence. His composition
overflows with figurative expressions, yet the rude, ungainly form on
which they are moulded deprive them of all claim to elegance or
chastity; but while the homeliness of his diction fails to impress us
with an idea of his versatility as a writer, his chatty anecdotal style
rivets and keeps the mind amused, so that we rise from the little book
with the consciousness of having obtained much profit and satisfaction
from its perusal. Nor is it only the bibliomaniac who may hope to taste
this pleasure in devouring the sweet contents of the Philobiblon; for
there are many hints, many wise sayings, and many singular ideas
scattered over its pages, which will amuse or instruct the general reader
and the lover of olden literature. We observe too that Richard de Bury,
as a writer, was far in advance of his age, and his work manifests an
unusual freedom and independence of mind in its author; for although
living in monkish days, when the ecclesiastics were almost supreme in
power and wealth, he was fully sensible of the vile corruptions and
abominations which were spreading about that time so fearfully among some
of the cloistered devotees--the spotless purity of the primitive times
was scarce known then--and the dark periods of the middle ages were
bright and holy, when compared with the looseness and carnality of those
turbulent days. Richard de Bury dipped his pen in gall when he spoke of
these sad things, and doubtless many a revelling monk winced under the
lashing words he applied to them; not only does he upbraid them for their
carelessness in religion, but severely reprimands their inattention to
literature and learning. "The monks," he says, "in the present day seem
to be occupied in emptying cups, not in correcting codices, _Calicibus
epotandis, non codicibus emendandis_, which they mingle with the
lascivious music of Timotheus, and emulate his immodest manners, so that
the sportive song _cantus ludentis_, and not the plaintive hymn, proceeds
from the cells of the monks. Flocks and fleeces, grain and granaries,
gardens and olives, potions and goblets, are in this day lessons and
studies of the monks, except some chosen few."[186] He speaks in equally
harsh terms of the religious mendicants. He accuses them of forgetting
the words and admonitions of their holy founder, who was a great lover of
books. He wishes them to imitate the ancient members of that fraternity,
who were poor in spirit, but most rich in faith. But it must be
remembered, that about this time the mendicant friars were treated with
undeserved contempt, and much ill feeling rose against them among the
clergy, but the clergy were somewhat prejudiced in their judgment. The
order of St. Dominic, which a century before gloried in the approbation
of the pope, and in the enjoyment of his potential bulls, now winced
under gloomy and foreboding frowns. The sovereign Pontiff Honorius III.
gratefully embraced the service of these friars, and confirmed their
order with important privileges. His successor, Gregory IX., ratified
these favors to gain their useful aid in propping up the papal power, and
commanded the ecclesiastics by a bull to receive these "well-beloved
children and preaching friars" of his, with hospitality and respect.
Thus established, they were able to bear the tossings to and fro which
succeeding years produced; but in Richard de Bury's time darker clouds
were gathering--great men had severely chastized them with their pens and
denounced them in their preachings. Soon after a host of others sprang
up--among the most remarkable of whom were Johannes Poliaco, and
Fitzralph, Archbishop of Armagh, who was a dear friend and chaplain of
Richard de Bury's and many learned disputations were carried on between
them.[187] The celebrated oration of Fitzralph's, cited in the presence
of the pope, was a powerful blow to the mendicant friars--an examination
of the matter has rather perplexed than cleared the subject, and I find
it difficult which side to favor, the clergy seem to denounce the begging
friars more from envy and interested motives, for they looked with
extreme jealousy at the encroachments they had made upon their
ecclesiastical functions of confession, absolution, etc., so profitable
to the church in those days. In these matters the church had hitherto
reserved a sole monopoly, and the clergy now determined to protect it
with all the powers of oratorial denunciation; but, looking beyond this
veil of prejudice, I am prone to regard them favorably, for their intense
love of books, which they sought for and bought up with passionate
eagerness. Fitzralph, quite unintentionally, bestows a bright compliment
upon them, and as it bears upon our subject and illustrates the learning
of the time, I am tempted to give a few extracts; he sorely laments the
decrease of the number of students in the university of Oxford; "So,"
says he, "that yet in my tyme, in the universitie of Oxenford, were
thirty thousand Scolers at ones; and now beth unnethe[188] sixe
thousand."[189] All the blame of this he lays to the friars, and accuses
them of doing "more grete damage to learning." "For these orders of
beggers, for endeless wynnynges that thei geteth by beggyng of the
forseide pryvyleges of schriftes and sepultures and othere, thei beth now
so multiplyed in conventes and in persons. That many men tellith that in
general studies unnethe, is it founde to sillynge a profitable book of ye
faculte of art, of dyvynyte, of lawe canon, of phisik, other of lawe
civil, but alle bookes beth y-bougt of Freres, so that en ech convent of
Freres is a noble librarye and a grete,[190] and so that ene rech Frere
that hath state in scole, siche as thei beth nowe, hath an hughe
librarye. And also y-sent of my Sugettes[191] to scole thre other foure
persons, and hit is said me that some of them beth come home azen for
thei myst nougt[192] finde to selle ovn goode Bible; nother othere
couenable[193] books." This strange accusation proves how industriously
the friars collected books, and we cannot help regarding them with much
esteem for doing so. Richard de Bury fully admits his obligations to the
mendicants, from whom he obtained many choice transcripts. "When indeed,"
says he, "we happened to turn aside to the towns and places where the
aforesaid paupers had convents, we were not slack in visiting their
chests and other repositories of books, for there, amidst the deepest
poverty, we found the most exalted riches treasured up; there, in their
satchells and baskets, we discovered not only the crumbs that fell from
the master's table for the little dogs, but indeed the shew bread without
leaven, the bread of angels, containing in itself all that is
delectable;" and moreover, he says, that he found these friars "not
selfish hoarders, but meet professors of enlightened knowledge."[194]
In the seventh chapter of his work, he deplores the sad destruction of
books by war and fire, and laments the loss of the 700,000 volumes, which
happened in the Alexandrian expedition; but the eighth chapter is the one
which the bibliomaniac will regard with the greatest interest, for
Richard de Bury tells us there how he collected together his rich and
ample library. "For although," he writes, "from our youth we have ever
been delighted to hold special and social communion with literary men and
lovers of books, yet prosperity attending us, having obtained the notice
of his majesty the king, and being received into his own family, we
acquired a most ample facility of visiting at pleasure and of hunting, as
it were, some of the most delightful covers, the public and private
libraries _privatas tum communes_, both of the regulars and seculars.
Indeed, while we performed the duties of Chancellor and Treasurer of the
most invincible and ever magnificently triumphant king of England,
Edward III., of that name after the conquest, whose days may the Most
High long and tranquilly deign to preserve. After first inquiring into
the things that concerned his court, and then the public affairs of his
kingdom, an easy opening was afforded us, under the countenance of royal
favor, for freely searching the hiding places of books. For the flying
fame of our love had already spread in all directions, and it was
reported not only that we had a longing desire for books, and _especially
for old ones_, but that any one could more easily obtain our favors by
quartos than by money.[195] Wherefore, when supported by the bounty of
the aforesaid prince of worthy memory, we were enabled to oppose or
advance, to appoint or discharge; crazy quartos and tottering folios,
precious however in our sight as well as in our affections, flowed in
most rapidly from the great and the small, instead of new year's gift and
remunerations, and instead of presents and jewels. Then the cabinets of
the most noble monasteries _tunc nobilissimos monasterios_ were opened,
cases were unlocked, caskets were unclasped and sleeping volumes
_soporata volumina_ which had slumbered for long ages in their sepulchres
were roused up, and those that lay hid in dark places _in locis
tenebrosis_ were overwhelmed with the rays of a new light. Books
heretofore most delicate now become corrupted and abominable, lay
lifeless, covered indeed with the excrements of mice and pierced through
with the gnawing of worms; and those that were formerly clothed with
purple and fine linen were now seen reposing in dust and ashes, given
over to oblivion and the abode of moths. Amongst these, nevertheless, as
time served, we sat down more voluptuously than the delicate physician
could do amidst his stores of aromatics, and where we found an object of
love, we found also an assuagement. Thus the sacred vessel of science
came into the power of our disposal, some being given, some sold, and not
a few lent for a time. Without doubt many who perceived us to be
contented with gifts of this kind, studied to contribute these things
freely to our use, which they could most conveniently do without
themselves. We took care, however, to conduct the business of such so
favorably, that the profit might accrue to them; justice suffered
therefore no detriment." Of this, however, a doubt will intrude itself
upon our minds, in defiance of the affirmation of my Lord Chancellor;
indeed, the paragraph altogether is unfavorable to the character of so
great a man, and fully proves the laxity of opinion, in those days of
monkish supremacy, on judicial matters; but we must be generous, and
allow something for the corrupt usages of the age, but I cannot omit a
circumstance clearly illustrative of this point, which occurred between
the bibliomanical Chancellor and the abbot of St. Alban's, the affair is
recorded in the chronicle of the abbey, and transpired during the time
Richard de Bury held the privy seal; in that office he appears to have
favored the monks of the abbey in their disputes with the townspeople of
St. Alban's respecting some possessions to which the monks tenaciously
adhered and defended as their rightful property. Richard de Wallingford,
who was then abbot, convoked the elder monks _convocatis senioribus_, and
discussed with them, as to the most effectual way to obtain the goodwill
and favor of de Bury; after due consideration it was decided that no gift
was likely to prove so acceptable to that father of English bibliomania
as a present of some of their choice books, and it was at last agreed to
send four volumes, "that is to say Terence, a Virgil, a Quintilian, and
Jerome against Ruffinus," and to sell him many others from their library;
this they sent him intimation of, and a purchase was ultimately agreed
upon between them. The monks sold to that rare collector, thirty-two
choice tomes _triginta duos libros_, for the sum of fifty pounds of
silver _quinginta libris argenti_.[196] But there were other bibliophiles
and bookworms than Richard de Bury in old England then; for many of the
brothers of St. Alban's who had nothing to do with this transaction,
cried out loudly against it, and denounced rather openly the policy of
sacrificing their mental treasures for the acquisition of pecuniary gain,
but fortunately the loss was only a temporary one, for on the death of
Richard de Bury many of these volumes were restored to the monks, who in
return became the purchasers from his executors of many a rare old
volume from the bishop's library.[197] To resume our extracts from the
Philobiblon, De Bury proceeds to further particulars relative to his
book-collecting career, and becomes quite eloquent in detailing these
circumstances; but from the eighth chapter we shall content ourselves
with one more paragraph. "Moreover," says he, "if we could have amassed
cups of gold and silver, excellent horses, or no mean sums of money, we
could in those days have laid up abundance of wealth for ourselves. But
we regarded books not pounds, and valued codices more than florens, and
preferred paltry pamphlets to pampered palfreys.[198] In addition to this
we were charged with frequent embassies of the said prince of everlasting
memory, and owing to the multiplicity of state affairs, we were sent
first to the Roman chair, then to the court of France, then to the
various other kingdoms of the world, on tedious embassies and in perilous
times, carrying about with us that fondness for books, which many waters
could not extinguish."[199] The booksellers found Richard de Bury a
generous and profitable customer, and those residing abroad received
commissions constantly from him. "Besides the opportunities," he writes,
"already touched upon, we easily acquired the notice of the stationers
and librarians, not only within the provinces of our native soil, but of
those dispersed over the kingdoms of France, Germany, and Italy."[200]
Such was bibliomania five hundred years ago! and does not the reader
behold in it the very type and personification of its existence now? does
he not see in Richard de Bury the prototype of a much honored and
agreeable bibliophile of our own time? Nor has the renowned "Maister
Dibdin" described his book-hunting tours with more enthusiasm or delight;
with what a thrill of rapture would that worthy doctor have explored
those monastic treasures which De Bury found hid in _locis tenebrosis_,
antique Bibles, rare Fathers, rich Classics or gems of monkish lore,
enough to fire the brain of the most lymphatic bibliophile, were within
the grasp of the industrious and eager Richard de Bury--that old "Amator
Librorum," like his imitators of the present day, cared not whither he
went to collect his books--dust and dirt were no barriers to him; at
every nook and corner where a stationer's stall[201] appeared, he would
doubtless tarry in defiance of the cold winds or scorching sun, exploring
the ancient tomes reposing there. Nor did he neglect the houses of the
country rectors; and even the humble habitations of the rustics were
diligently ransacked to increase his collections, and from these sources
he gleaned many rude but pleasing volumes, perhaps full of old popular
poetry! or the wild Romances of Chivalry which enlivened the halls and
cots of our forefathers in Gothic days.
We must not overlook the fact that this Treatise on the Love of Books was
written as an accompaniment to a noble and generous gift. Many of the
parchment volumes which De Bury had collected in his "_perilous
embassies_," he gave, with the spirit of a true lover of learning, to the
Durham College at Oxford, for the use of the Students of his Church. I
cannot but regret that the names of these books, _of which he had made a
catalogue_,[202] have not been preserved; perhaps the document may yet be
discovered among the vast collections of manuscripts in the Oxonian
libraries; but the book, being written for this purpose, the author
thought it consistent that full directions should be given for the
preservation and regulation of the library, and we find the last chapter
devoted to this matter; but we must not close the Philobiblon without
noticing his admonitions to the students, some of whom he upbraids for
the carelessness and disrespect which they manifest in perusing books.
"Let there," says he, with all the veneration of a passionate booklover,
"be a modest decorum in opening and closing of volumes, that they may
neither be unclasped with precipitous haste, nor thrown aside after
inspection without being duly closed."[203] Loving and venerating a book
as De Bury did, it was agony to see a volume suffering under the
indignities of the ignorant or thoughtless student whom he thus keenly
satirizes: "You will perhaps see a stiffnecked youth lounging sluggishly
in his study, while the frost pinches him in winter time; oppressed with
cold his watery nose drops, nor does he take the trouble to wipe it with
his handkerchief till it has moistened the book beneath it with its vile
dew;" nor is he "ashamed to eat fruit and cheese over an open book, or to
transfer his empty cup from side to side; he reclines his elbow on the
volume, turns down the leaves, and puts bits of straw to denote the place
he is reading; he stuffs the book with leaves and flowers, and so
pollutes it with filth and dust." With this our extracts from the
Philobiblon must close; enough has been said and transcribed to place the
Lord Chancellor of the puissant King Edward III. among the foremost of
the bibliomaniacs of the past, and to show how valuable were his efforts
to literature and learning; indeed, like Petrarch in Italy was Richard De
Bury in England: both enthusiastic collectors and preservers of ancient
manuscripts, and both pioneers of that revival of European literature
which soon afterwards followed. In the fourteenth century we cannot
imagine a more useful or more essential person than the bibliomaniac, for
that surely was the harvest day for the gathering in of that food on
which the mind of future generations were to subsist. And who reaped so
laboriously or gleaned so carefully as those two illustrious scholars?
Richard de Bury was no unsocial bookworm; for whilst he loved to seek the
intercourse of the learned dead, he was far from being regardless of the
living. Next to his clasped vellum tomes, nothing afforded him so much
delight as an erudite disputation with his chaplains, who were mostly men
of acknowledged learning and talent; among them were "Thomas Bradwardyn,
afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury; and Richard Fitz-Raufe, afterwards
Archbishop of Armagh; Walter Burley, John Maudyt, Robert Holcote, Richard
of Kilwington, all Doctors in Theology, _omnes Doctores in Theologia_;
Richard Benworth, afterwards Bishop of London, and Walter Segraffe,
afterwards Bishop of Chester;"[204] with these congenial spirits Richard
de Bury held long and pleasing conversations, doubtless full of old
bookwisdom and quaint Gothic lore, derived from still quainter volumes;
and after meals I dare say they discussed the choice volume which had
been read during their repast, as was the pious custom of those old days,
and which was not neglected by De Bury, for "his manner was at dinner
and supper time to have some good booke read unto him."[205]
And now in bidding farewell to the illustrious Aungraville--for little
more is known of his biography--let me not forget to pay a passing
tribute of respect to his private character, which is right worthy of a
cherished remembrance, and derives its principal lustre from the eminent
degree in which he was endowed with the greatest of Christian virtues,
and which, when practised with sincerity, covereth a multitude of sins;
his charity, indeed, forms a delightful trait in the character of that
great man; every week he distributed food to the poor; eight quarters of
wheat _octo quarteria frumenti_, and the fragments from his own table
comforted the indigent of his church; and always when he journeyed from
Newcastle to Durham, he distributed twelve marks in relieving the
distresses of the poor; from Durham to Stockton eight marks; and from the
same place to his palace at Aukeland five marks; and and when he rode
from Durham to Middleham he gave away one hundred shillings.[206] Living
in troublous times, we do not find his name coupled with any great
achievement in the political sphere; his talents were not the most
propitious for a statesman among the fierce barons of the fourteenth
century; his spirit loved converse with the departed great, and shone
more to advantage in the quite closet of the bibliomaniac, or in
fulfilling the benevolent duties of a bishop. Yet he was successful in
all that the ambition of a statesman could desire, the friend and
confidant of his king; holding the highest offices in the state
compatible with his ecclesiastical position, with wealth in abundance,
and blessed with the friendship of the learned and the good, we find
little in his earthly career to darken the current of his existence, or
to disturb the last hours of a life of near three score years. He died
lamented, honored, and esteemed, at Aukeland palace, on the fourteenth of
April, in the year 1345, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and was
buried with all due solemnity before the altar of the blessed Mary
Magdalene, at the south angle of the church of Durham. His bones are now
mingled with the dust and gone, but his memory is engraven on tablets of
life; the hearts of all bibliomaniacs love and esteem his name for the
many virtues with which it was adorned, and delight to chat with his
choice old spirit in the Philobiblon, so congenial to their bookish
souls. No doubt the illustrious example of Richard de Bury tended
materially to spread far and wide the spirit of bibliomania. It certainly
operated powerfully on the monks of Durham, who not only by transcribing,
but at the cost of considerable sums of money, greatly increased their
library. A catalogue of the collection, taken some forty years after the
death of De Bury, is preserved to this day at Durham, and shows how
considerably they augmented it during a space of two hundred years, or
from the time when the former list was written. If the bibliomaniac can
obtain a sight of this ancient catalogue, he will dwell over it with
astonishment and delight--immaculate volumes of Scripture--fathers and
classics bespeak its richness and extent, and Robert of Langchester, the
librarian who wrote it, with pious preference places first on the list
the magnificent Bible which bishop Hugo gave them many years before. This
rare biblical treasure, then the pride and glory of the collection, is
now in the Durham Library; but to look upon that fair manuscript will
make the blood run cold--barbarous desecration has been committed by some
bibliopegistical hand; the splendid illuminations so rich and spirited,
which adorned the beauteous tomes, dazzled an ignorant mind, who cut them
out and robbed it of half its interest and value.
From near 600 volumes which the list enumerates, I cannot refrain from
naming two or three. I have searched over its biblical department in vain
to discover mention of the celebrated "Saint Cuthbert's Gospels." It is
surprising they should have forgotten so rich a gem, for although four
copies of the Gospels appear, not one of them answers to its description;
two are specified as "_non glos_;" it could not have been either of
those, another, the most interesting of the whole, is recorded as the
venerable Bede's own copy! What bibliophile can look unmoved upon those
time-honored pages, without indeed all the warmth of his booklove
kindling forth into a very frenzy of rapture and veneration! So fairly
written, and so accurately transcribed, it is one of the most precious of
the many gems which now crowd the shelves of the Durham Library, and is
well worth a pilgrimage to view it.[207] But this cannot be St.
Cuthbert's Gospels, and the remaining copy is mentioned as "_Quarteur
Evangelum_," fol. ii. "_se levantem_;" now I have looked at the splendid
volume in the British Museum, to see if the catchword answered to this
description, but it does not; so it cannot be this, which I might have
imagined without the trouble of a research, for if it was, they surely
would not have forgotten to mention its celebrated coopertoria.
Passing a splendid array of Scriptures whole and in parts, for there was
no paucity of sacred volumes in that old monkish library, and fathers,
doctors of the Church, schoolmen, lives of saints, chronicles, profane
writers, philosophical and logical treatises, medical works, grammars,
and books of devotion, we are particularly struck with the appearance of
so many fine classical authors. Works of Virgil (including the Æneid),
Pompeius Trogus, Claudius, Juvenal, Terence, Ovid, Prudentius,
Quintilian, Cicero, Boethius, and a host of others are in abundance,
and form a catalogue rendered doubly exciting to the bibliophile by the
insertion of an occasional note, which tells of its antiquity,[208]
rarity, or value. In some of the volumes a curious inscription was
inserted, thundering a curse upon any who would dare to pilfer it from
the library, and for so sacrilegious a crime, calling down upon them the
maledictions of Saints Maria, Oswald, Cuthbert, and Benedict.[209] A
volume containing the lives of St. Cuthbert, St. Oswald, and St. Aydani,
is described as "_Liber speciales et preciosus cum signaculo deaurato_."
Thomas Langley, who was chancellor of England and bishop of Durham in the
year 1406, collected many choice books, and left some of them to the
library of Durham church; among them a copy of Lyra's Commentaries stands
conspicuous; he also bequeathed a number of volumes to many of his
private friends.
There are few monastic libraries whose progress we can trace with so much
satisfaction as the one now under consideration, for we have another
catalogue compiled during the librarianship of John Tyshbourne, in the
year 1416,[210] in which many errors appearing in the former ones are
carefully corrected; books which subsequent to that time had been lost or
stolen are here accounted for; many had been sent to the students at
Oxford, and others have notes appended, implying to whom the volume had
been lent; thus to a "_Flores Bernardi_," occurs "_Prior debit, I Kempe
Episcopi Londoni_." It is, next to Monk Henry's of Canterbury, one of the
best of all the monkish catalogues I have seen; not so much for its
extent, as that here and there it fully partakes of the character of a
catalogue _raisonné_; for terse sentences are affixed to some of the more
remarkable volumes, briefly descriptive of their value; a circumstance
seldom observable in these early attempts at bibliography.
In taking leave of Durham library, need I say that the bibliomaniacs who
flourished there in the olden time, not only collected their books with
so much industry, but knew well how to use them too. The reader is
doubtless aware how many learned men dwelled in monkish time within those
ancient walls; and if he is inquisitive about such things has often
enjoyed a few hours of pleasant chat over the historic pages of Symeon of
Durham,[211] Turgot and Wessington,[212] and has often heard of brothers
Lawrence,[213] Reginald,[214] and Bolton; but although unheeded now, many
a monkish bookworm, glorying in the strict observance of Christian
humility, and so unknown to fame, lies buried beneath that splendid
edifice, as many monuments and funeral tablets testify and speak in high
favor of the great men of Durham. If the reader should perchance to
wander near that place, his eye will be attracted by many of these
memorials of the dead; and a few hours spent in exploring them will serve
to gain many additional facts to his antiquarian lore, and perhaps even
something better too. For I know not a more suitable place, as far as
outward circumstances are concerned, than an old sanctuary of God to
prepare the mind and lead it to think of death and immortality. We read
the names of great men long gone; of wealthy worldlings, whose fortunes
have long been spent; of ambitious statesmen and doughty warriors, whose
glory is fast fading as their costly mausoleums crumble in the hands of
time, and whose stone tablets, green with the lichens' hue, manifest how
futile it is to hope to gain immortality from stone, or purchase fame by
the cold marble trophies of pompous grief; not that on their glassy
surface the truth is always faithfully mirrored forth, even when the
thoughts of holy men composed the eulogy; the tombs of old knew as well
how to lie as now, and even ascetic monks could become too warm in their
praises of departed worth; for whilst they blamed the great man living,
with Christian charity they thought only of his virtues when they had
nothing but his body left, and murmured long prayers, said tedious
masses, and kept midnight vigils for his soul. For had he not shown his
love to God by his munificence to His Church on earth? _Benedicite_,
saith the monks.
FOOTNOTES:
[153] Bede's Eccles. Hist., B. iii. c. xvi.
[154] Bede, B. iv. c. xxvii.
[155] Marked Nero, D. iv. in the Cottonian collection.
[156] The illuminations are engraved in Strutt's _Horda_.
[157] There is prologue to the Canons and Prefaces of St. Jerome and
Eusebius, and also a beautiful calendar written in compartments,
elaborately finished in an architectural style.
[158] He also transcribed the Durham Ritual, recently printed by the
Surtee Society; when Alfred wrote this volume he was with bishop
Alfsige, p. 185, 8vo. _Lond._ 1840.
[159] For an account of this rare gem of Saxon art, see _Selden
Præf. ad. Hist. Angl._ p. 25. _Marshall Observat. in Vers. Sax.
Evang._, 491. _Dibdin's Decameron, p._ lii. _Smith's Bibl. Cotton.
Hist. et Synop._, p. 33.
[160] Simeon of Durham translated by Stevens, p. 87.
[161] Simeon of Durham, by Stevens.
[162] Ep. viii.
[163] Tertia Quinquagina Augustini, marked B. ii. 14.
[164] Surtee publications, vol. i. p. 117.
[165] This catalogue is preserved at Durham, in the library of the
Dean and Chapter, marked B. iv. 24. It is printed in the Surtee
publications, vol. i. p. 1.
[166] "King Stephen was vncle vnto him."--_Godwin's Cat. of
Bishops_, 511.
[167] He died in 1195.--Godwin, p. 735. He gave them also another
Bible in two volumes; a list of the whole is printed in the Surtee
publications, vol. i. p. 118.
[168] Surtee's Hist, of Durham, vol. i. p. xxxii. "He was wonderfull
rich, not onely in ready money but in lands also, and temporall
revenues. For he might dispend yeerely 5000 marks."--_Godwin's Cat.
Eng. Bish._ 4to. 1601, p. 520.
[169] Robert de Graystane's ap. Wharton's Angl. Sacr. p. 748, tom.
i.--_Hutchinson's Durham_, vol. i. p. 244.
[170] Surtee publ. vol. i. p. 121.
[171] Raine's North Durham, p. 85.
[172] Surtee public. vol. 1. p. 39-40.
[173] _Ibid._, vol. i. p. 41.
[174] Chambre Contin. Hist. Dunelm. apud Wharton Angliæ Sacra, tom.
i. p. 765.
[175] Lord Campbell's Lives of the Lord Chancellors, vol. i. p. 219.
[176] Absconditus est in Campanili fratrum minorum.--_Chambre ap.
Wharton_, tom. i. p. 765.
[177] In one of his letters Petrarch speaks of De Bury as _Virum
ardentis ingenii_, Pet. ep. 1-3.
[178] Epist. Seniles, lib. xvi. ep. 1.
[179] Foscolo's Essays on Petrarch, p. 151.
[180] Foscolo's Essays on Petrarch, p. 156. Famil. ep. lxxii.
[181] Hortatio ad Nicol. Laurent Petrar., Op. vol. i. p. 596.
[182] _Apud Wharton Ang. Sac._ tom. i. p. 765.
[183] _Ibid._
[184] MS. Harleian, No. 3224, fo. 89, b.
[185] There are two MSS. of the Philobiblon in the British Museum,
which I quote in giving my Latin Extracts. The first is in the
Cotton collection, marked Appendix iv. fol. 103. At the end are
these lines, _Ric. de Aungervile cognominato de Bury, Dunelm. Episc.
Philobiblon completum in Manerio de Auckland, d. 24 Jan. 1344_, fol.
119, b. The other is in the Harleian Collection, No. 3224, both are
in fine preservation. The first printed edition appeared at Cologne,
1473, in 4to., without pagination, signatures, or catchwords, with
48 leaves, 26 lines on a full page; for some time, on account of its
excessive rarity, which kept it from the eyes of book-lovers,
bibliographers confused it with the second edition printed by John
and Conrad Hüst, at Spires, in 1483, 4to. which, like the first, is
without pagination, signatures, or catchwords, but it has only 39
pages, with 31 lines on a full page. Two editions were printed in
1500, 4to. at Paris, but I have only seen one of them. A fifth
edition was printed at Oxford by T. J(ames), 4to. 1599. In 1614 it
was published by Goldastus in 8vo. at Frankfort, with a
_Philologicarium Epistolarum Centuria una_. Another edition of this
same book was printed in 1674, 8vo. at Leipsic, and a still better
edition appeared in 1703 by Schmidt, in 4to. The Philobiblon has
recently been translated by Inglis, 8vo. _Lond._ 1834, with much
accuracy and spirit, and I have in many cases availed myself of this
edition, though I do not always exactly follow it.
[186] "Greges et Vellera, Fruges et honea, Porri et Olera, Potus et
Patera rectiones sunt hodie et studio monachorum."--MS. Harl. 2324,
fol. 79, a; MS. Cot. ap. iv. fo. 108, a.
[187] Wharton Ang. Sac., tom. i. p. 766, he is called _Ricardus
Fitz-Rause postomodum Archiepiscopus Armachanus_.
[188] Scarcely.
[189] Translated by Trevisa, MS. Harleian, No. 1900, fol. 11, b.
[190] The original is _grandis et nobilis libraria_.
[191] Chaplain.
[192] Could not.
[193] Profitable.
[194] Philobiblon, transl. by Inglis, p. 56.
[195] "Curiam deinde vero Rem. publicam Regni sui Cacellarii, viz.:
est ac Thesaurii fugeremur officiis, patescebat nobis aditus faciles
regal favoris intuitu, ad libros latebras libere perscruta tandas
amoris quippe nostri fama volatitis jam ubiqs. percreluit tam qs.
libros _et maxime veterum_ ferabatur cupidite las vestere posse vero
quemlibet nostrum per quaternos facilius quam per pecuniam adipisa
favorem."--MS. Harl. fo. 85, a. MS. Cott. 110, b.
[196] MS. Cottonian Claudius, E. iv. fol. 203, b. _Warton's Hist. of
Poetry, Dissert. ii._; and _Hallam's_ Middle Ages, vol. ii. p. 611.
Both notice this circumstance as a proof of the scarcity of books in
De Bury's time.
[197] _Ibid._ Among the MSS. in the Royal Library, there is a copy
of John of Salisbury's _Ententicus_ which contains the following
note, "Hunc librum fecit dominus Symon abbas S. Albani, quem postea
venditum domino _Ricardo_ de Bury. Episcope Dunelmensi emit Michael
abbas S. Albani ab executoribus prædicti episcopi, A. D. 1345."
Marked 13 D. iv. 3. The same abbot expended a large sum in buying
books for the library, but we shall speak more of Michael de
Wentmore by and bye.
[198] "Sed revera libros non libras maluimus, Codicesque plus quam
florenos, ac pampletos exiguos incrussatis proetulimus
palafridis."--MS. Harl. fo. 86, a. MS. Cott. fo. 111, a.
[199] Inglis's Translation, p. 53.
[200] Inglis's Translation, p. 58.
[201] The Stationers or Booksellers carried on their business on
open Stalls.--_Hallam, Lit. Europe_, vol. i. p. 339. It is pleasing
to think that the same temptations which allure the bookworm now, in
his perambulations, can claim such great antiquity, and that through
so many centuries, bibliophiles and bibliopoles remain unaltered in
their habits and singularities; but alas! this worthy relic of the
middle ages I fear is passing into oblivion. Plate-glass fronts and
bulky expensive catalogues form the bookseller's pride in these days
of speed and progress, and offer more splendid temptations to the
collector, but sad obstacles to the hungry student and black-letter
bargain hunters.
[202] _Philob._ xix.
[203] Inglis, p. 96. "In primis quidam circa claudenda et apienda
volumina, sit matura modestia; ut nec præcipiti festinatione
solvantur, nec inspectione finita, sina clausura debita
dimittantur." _MS. Harl._ fol. 103.
[204] _Chambre ap. Wharton_, tom. i. p. 766.
[205] Godwin Cat. of Bish. 525.
[206] _Chambre ap. Wharton_, tom. i. p. 766.
[207] It is marked A, ii. 16, and described in the old MS. catalogue
as _De manus Bedæ_, ii. fol. _Baptizatus_.
[208] The attractive words "_Est vetus Liber_" often occur.
[209] From a volume of Thomas Aquinas, the following is transcribed:
"Lib. Sti. Cuthberti de Dunelm, ex procuratione fratis Roberti de
Graystane quem qui aliena verit maledictionem Sanctorum Mariæ,
Oswaldi, Cuthberti et Benedicti incurrat." See _Surtee
publications_, vol. i. p. 35, where other instances are given.
[210] Surtee publ. vol. i. p. 85.
[211] He wrote The Chronicle of Durham Monastery in 1130.
[212] His book on the Rights and Privileges of Durham Church is in
the Cottonian Library, marked _Vitellius_, A, 9.
[213] Lawrence was elected prior in 1149, "a man of singular
prudence and learning, as the many books he writ manifest."
_Dugdale's Monast._ vol. 1. p. 230.
[214] Wrote the Life and Miracles of St. Cuthbert, the original book
is in the Durham Library.