An honest historian at times will have to inflict severe stroke on his
favourites. This has fallen to my lot, for in the course of my
researches, I have to record that we have both forgers and purloiners,
as well as other more obvious impostors, in the republic of letters! The
present article descends to relate anecdotes of some contrivances to
possess our literary curiosities by other means than by purchase; and
the only apology which can be alleged for the _splendida peccata_, as
St. Austin calls the virtues of the heathen, of the present innocent
criminals, is their excessive passion for literature, and otherwise the
respectability of their names. According to Grose's "Classical
Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue," we have had celebrated _collectors_,
both in the learned and vulgar idioms. But one of them, who had some
reasons too to be tender on this point, distinguished this mode of
completing his collections, not by _book-stealing_, but by
_book-coveting_. On some occasions, in mercy, we must allow of softening
names. Were not the Spartans allowed to steal from one another, and the
bunglers only punished?
It is said that Pinelli made occasional additions to his literary
treasures sometimes by his skill in an art which lay much more in the
hand than in the head: however, as Pinelli never stirred out of his
native city but once in his lifetime, when the plague drove him from
home, his field of action was so restricted, that we can hardly conclude
that he could have been so great an enterpriser in this way. No one can
have lost their character by this sort of exercise in a confined circle,
and be allowed to prosper! A light-fingered Mercury would hardly haunt
the same spot: however, this is as it may be! It is probable that we owe
to this species of accumulation many precious manuscripts in the
Cottonian collection. It appears by the manuscript note-book of Sir
Nicholas Hyde, chief justice of the King's Bench from the second to the
seventh year of Charles the First, that Sir Robert Cotton had in his
library, records, evidences, ledger-books, original letters, and other
state papers, belonging to the king; for the attorney-general of that
time, to prove this, showed a copy of the _pardon_ which Sir Robert had
obtained from King James for _embezzling records_, &c.[222]
Gough has more than insinuated that Rawlinson and his friend Umfreville
"lie under very strong suspicions;" and he asserts that the collector of
the Wilton treasures made as free as Dr. Willis with his friend's
coins.[223] But he has also put forth a declaration relating to Bishop
More, the famous collector, that "the bishop collected his library by
_plundering_ those of the clergy in his diocese; some he paid with
sermons or more modern books; others, less civilly, only with a _quid
illiterati cum libris?_" This _plundering_ then consisted rather of
_cajoling_ others out of what they knew not how to value; and this is an
advantage which every skilful lover of books must enjoy over those whose
apprenticeship has not expired. I have myself been plundered by a very
dear friend of some such literary curiosities, in the days of my
innocence and of his precocity of knowledge. However, it does appear
that Bishop More did actually lay violent hands in a snug corner on some
irresistible little charmer; which we gather from a precaution adopted
by a friend of the bishop, who one day was found busy in _hiding his
rarest books_, and locking up as many as he could. On being asked the
reason of this odd occupation, the bibliopolist ingenuously replied,
"The Bishop of Ely dines with me to-day." This fact is quite clear, and
here is another as indisputable. Sir Robert Saville writing to Sir
Robert Cotton, appointing an interview with the founder of the Bodleian
Library, cautions Sir Robert, that "If he held any book so dear as that
he would be loath to lose it, he should _not let Sir Thomas out of his
sight_, but set 'the boke' aside beforehand." A surprise and detection
of this nature has been revealed in a piece of secret history by Amelot
de la Houssaie, which terminated in very important political
consequences. He assures us that the personal dislike which Pope
Innocent X. bore to the French had originated in his youth, when
cardinal, from having been detected in the library of an eminent French
collector, of having purloined a most rare volume. The delirium of a
collector's rage overcame even French politesse; the Frenchman not only
openly accused his illustrious culprit, but was resolved that he should
not quit the library without replacing the precious volume--from
accusation and denial both resolved to try their strength: but in this
literary wrestling-match the book dropped out of the cardinal's
robes!--and from that day he hated the French--at least their more
curious collectors!
Even an author on his dying bed, at those awful moments, should a
collector be by his side, may not be considered secure from his too
curious hands. Sir William Dugdale possessed the minutes of King James's
life, written by Camden, till within a fortnight of his death; as also
Camden's own life, which he had from Hacket, the author of the folio
life of Bishop Williams: who, adds Aubrey, "did _filch_ it from Mr.
Camden, as he lay a dying!" He afterwards corrects his information, by
the name of Dr. Thorndyke, which, however, equally answers our purpose,
to prove that even dying authors may dread such collectors!
The medalists have, I suspect, been more predatory than these
subtractors of our literary treasures; not only from the facility of
their conveyance, but from a peculiar contrivance which of all those
things which admit of being secretly purloined, can only be practised in
this department--for they can steal and no human hand can search them
with any possibility of detection; they can pick a cabinet and swallow
the curious things, and transport them with perfect safety, to be
digested at their leisure. An adventure of this kind happened to Baron
Stosch, the famous antiquary. It was in looking over the gems of the
royal cabinet of medals, that the keeper perceived the loss of one; his
place, his pension, and his reputation were at stake: and he insisted
that Baron Stosch should be most minutely examined; in this dilemma,
forced to confession, this erudite collector assured the keeper of the
royal cabinet, that the strictest search would not avail: "Alas, sir! I
have it here within," he said, pointing to his breast--an emetic was
suggested by the learned practitioner himself, probably from some former
experiment. This was not the first time that such a natural cabinet had
been invented; the antiquary Vaillant, when attacked at sea by an
Algerine, zealously swallowed a whole series of Syrian kings; when he
landed at Lyons, groaning with his concealed treasure, he hastened to
his friend, his physician, and his brother antiquary Dufour,--who at
first was only anxious to inquire of his patient, whether the medals
were of the higher empire? Vaillant showed two or three, of which nature
had kindly relieved him. A collection of medals was left to the city of
Exeter, and the donor accompanied the bequest by a clause in his will,
that should a certain antiquary, his old friend and rival, be desirous
of examining the coins, he should be watched by two persons, one on each
side. La Croze informs us in his life, that the learned Charles Patin,
who has written a work on medals, was one of the present race of
collectors: Patin offered the curators of the public library at Basle to
draw up a catalogue of the cabinet of Amberback there preserved,
containing a good number of medals; but they would have been more
numerous, had the catalogue-writer not diminished both them and his
labour, by sequestrating some of the most rare, which was not discovered
till this plunderer of antiquity was far out of their reach.
When Gough touched on this odd subject in the first edition of his
"British Topography," "An Academic" in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for
August 1772, insinuated that this charge of literary pilfering was only
a jocular one; on which Gough, in his second edition, observed that this
was not the case, and that "one might point out enough _light-fingered
antiquaries_ in the present age, to render such a charge extremely
probable against earlier ones." The most extraordinary part of this
slight history is, that our public denouncer some time after proved
himself to be one of these "light-fingered antiquaries:" the deed
itself, however, was more singular than disgraceful. At the disinterment
of the remains of Edward the First, around which thirty years ago
assembled our most erudite antiquaries, Gough was observed, as Steevens
used to relate, in a wrapping great-coat of unusual dimensions; that
witty and malicious "Puck," so capable himself of inventing mischief,
easily suspected others, and divided his glance as much on the living
piece of antiquity as on the elder. In the act of closing up the relics
of royalty, there was found wanting an entire fore-finger of Edward the
First; and as the body was perfect when opened, a murmur of
dissatisfaction was spreading, when "Puck" directed their attention to
the great antiquary in the watchman's great-coat--from whence--too
surely was extracted Edward the First's great fore-finger!--so that "the
light-fingered antiquary" was recognised ten years after he denounced
the race, when he came to "try his hand."[224]