IRELAND--NORTHUMBRIA.
The knowledge of books might almost have disappeared in the seventh
century, when the cloud of ignorance was darkest, but for a new and
remarkable development of learning in the Irish monasteries.
This development is of special interest to ourselves from the fact that
the church of Northumbria was long dependent on the Irish settlement at
Iona. The Anglians taught by Paulinus very soon relapsed into paganism,
and the second conversion of the North was due to the missionaries of the
school of St. Columba. The power of Rome was established at the Council
of Whitby; but in the days when Aidan preached at Lindisfarne the
Northumbrians were still in obedience to an Irish rule, and were
instructed and edified by the acts and lives of St. Patrick, of St.
Brigit, and the mighty Columba.
We shall quote some of the incidents recorded about the Irish books, a
few legends of Patrick and dim traditions from the days of Columba,
before noticing the rise of the English school.
The first mention of the Irish books seems to be contained in a passage
of Æthicus. The cosmography ascribed to that name has been traced to
very early times. It was long believed to have been written by St.
Jerome; but in its present form, at least, the work contains entries of a
much later date. The passage in which Ireland is mentioned may be even as
late as the age of Columbanus, when Irish monks set up their churches at
Würzburg and on the shores of the Lake of Constance, or illuminated their
manuscripts at Bobbio under the protection of Theodolind and her
successors in Lombardy. A wandering philosopher is represented as
visiting the northern regions: he remained for a while in the Isle of
Saints and turned over the painted volumes; but he despised the native
churchmen and called them 'Doctors of Ignorance.' 'Here am I in Ireland,
at the world's end, with much toil and little ease; with such unskilled
labourers in the field the place is too doleful, and is absolutely of no
good to me.'
Palladius came with twelve men to preach to the Gael, and we are told
that he 'left his books' at Cellfine. The legendary St. Patrick is made
to pass into Ulster, and he finds a King who burns himself and his home
'that he may not believe in Patrick.' The Saint proceeds to Tara with
eight men and a little page carrying the book-wallet; 'it was like eight
deer with one fawn following, and a white bird on its shoulder.'
The King and his chief Druid proposed a trial by ordeal. The King said,
'Put your books into the water.' 'I am ready for that,' said Patrick. But
the Druid said, 'A god of water this man adores, and I will not take
part in the ordeal.' The King said, 'Put your books into the fire.' 'I am
ready for that,' said Patrick. 'A god of fire once in two years this man
adores, and I will not do that,' said the Druid.
In the church by the oak-tree at Kildare St. Brigit had a marvellous
book, or so her nuns supposed. The Kildare Gospels may have been
illuminated as early as Columba's time. Gerard de Barri saw the book in
the year 1185, and said that it was so brilliant in colouring, so
delicate and finely drawn, and with such enlacements of intertwining
lines that it seemed to be a work beyond the powers of mortal man, and to
be worthy of an angel's skill; and, indeed, there was a strong belief
that miraculous help had been given to the artist in his dreams.
The 'Book of Durrow' called _The Gospels of St. Columba_, almost rivals
the famous 'Book of Kells' with which Mr. Madan will doubtless deal in
his forthcoming volume on Manuscripts. A native poet declared that when
the Saint died in 597 he had illuminated 'three hundred bright noble
books'; and he added that 'however long under water any book of the
Saint's writing should be, not one single letter would be drowned.' Our
authorities tell us that the Book of Durrow might possibly be one of the
three hundred, 'as it bears some signs of being earlier in date than the
Book of Kells.'
St. Columba, men said, was passionately devoted to books. Yet he gave his
Gospels to the Church at Swords, and presented the congregation at Derry
with the volume that he had fetched from Tours, 'where it had lain on St.
Martin's breast a hundred years in the ground.' In one of the biographies
there is a story about 'Langarad of the White Legs,' who dwelt in the
region of Ossory. To him Columba came as a guest, and found that the sage
was hiding all his books away. Then Columba left his curse upon them;
'May that,' quoth he, 'about which thou art so niggardly be never of any
profit after thee'; and this was fulfilled, 'for the books remain to this
day, and no man reads them.' When Langarad died 'all the book-satchels in
Ireland that night fell down'; some say, 'all the satchels and wallets in
the saint's house fell then: and Columba and all who were in his house
marvelled at the noisy shaking of the books.' So then speaks Columba:
'Langarad in Ossory,' quoth he, 'is just now dead.' 'Long may it be ere
that happens,' said Baithen. 'May the burden of that disbelief fall on
him and not on thee,' said Columba.
Another tradition relates to St. Finnen's book that caused a famous
battle; and that was because of a false judgment which King Diarmid gave
against Columba, when he copied St. Finnen's Psalter without leave. St.
Finnen claimed the copy as being the produce of his original, and on the
appeal to the court at Tara his claim was confirmed. King Diarmid decided
that to every mother-book belongs the child-book, as to the cow belongs
her calf; 'and so,' said the King, 'the book that you wrote, Columba,
belongs to Finnen by right.' 'That is an unjust judgment,' said Columba,
'and I will avenge it upon you.'
Not long afterwards the Saint was insulted by the seizure and execution
of an offender who had taken sanctuary and was clasped in his arms.
Columba went over the wild mountains and raised the tribes of Tyrconnell
and Tyrone, and defeated King Diarmid in battle. When the Saint went to
Iona he left the copy of Finnen's Psalter to the head of the chief tribe
in Tyrconnell. It was called the _Book of the Battle_, and if they
carried it three times round the enemy, in the sun's course, they were
sure to return victorious. The book was the property of the O'Donnells
till the dispersion of their clan. The gilt and jewelled case in which it
rests was made in the eleventh century: a frame round the inner shrine
was added by Daniel O'Donnell, who fought in the Battle of the Boyne. A
large fragment of the book remained in a Belgian monastery in trust for
the true representative of the clan; and soon after Waterloo it was given
up to Sir Neal O'Donnell, to whose family it still belongs. It is now
shown at the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy. 'The fragment of the
original _Book of the Battle_', says O'Curry, 'is of small quarto form,
consisting of fifty-eight leaves of fine vellum, written in a small,
uniform, but rather hurried hand, with some slight attempts at
illumination.'
We have now to describe the great increase of books in Northumbria. In
the year 635 Aidan set up his quarters with a few Irish monks on the
Isle of Lindisfarne, and his Abbey soon became one of the main
repositories of learning.
The book called _The Gospels of St. Cuthbert_ was written in 688, and was
regarded for nearly two centuries as the chief ornament of Lindisfarne.
The monastery was burned by the Danes, and the servants of St. Cuthbert,
who had concealed the 'Gospels' in his grave, wandered forth, with the
Saint's body in an ark and the book in its chest, in search of a new
place of refuge. They attempted a voyage to Ireland, but their ship was
driven back by a storm. The book-chest had been washed overboard, but in
passing up the Solway Firth they saw the book shining in its golden cover
upon the sand. For more than a century afterwards the book shared the
fortunes of a wandering company of monks: in the year 995 it was laid on
St. Cuthbert's coffin in the new church at Durham; early in the twelfth
century it returned to Lindisfarne. Here it remained until the
dissolution of the monasteries, when its golden covers were torn off, and
the book came bare and unadorned into the hands of Sir Robert Cotton, and
passed with the rest of his treasures into the library of the British
Museum.
[Illustration: INITIAL LETTER FROM THE GOSPELS OF ST. CUTHBERT.]
Theodore of Tarsus had been consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury in the
year 669. He brought with him a large quantity of books for use in his
new Greek school. These books were left by his will to the cathedral
library, where they remained for ages without disturbance. William
Lambarde, the Kentish antiquary, has left an account of their appearance.
He was speaking of Archbishop Parker, 'whose care for the conservation of
ancient monuments can never be sufficiently commended.' 'The reverend
Father,' he added, 'showed me the _Psalter of David_, and sundry homilies
in Greek, and Hebrew also, and some other Greek authors, beautifully
written on thick paper with the name of this Theodore prefixed,' to whose
library the Archbishop thought that they had belonged, 'being thereto led
by a show of great antiquity.'
The monks of Canterbury claimed to possess the books on pink vellum, with
rubricated capitals, which Pope Gregory had sent to Augustine. One of
these afterwards belonged to Parker, who gave it to Corpus Christi at
Cambridge: the experts now believe that it was written in the eighth
century 'in spite of the ancient appearance of the figure-painting.'
Another is the _Psalter of St. Augustine_, now preserved among the
Cottonian MSS. This is also considered to be a writing of the eighth
century.
In the Bodleian library there is a third example, written in quarto with
large uncial letters in double columns, in much the same style as the
book given by Parker to Corpus Christi. The Bodleian specimen is
especially interesting as containing on the fly-leaf a list in
Anglo-Saxon of the contents of the library of Solomon the Priest, with
notes as to other small collections.
We have reached the period in which Northumbria became for a time the
centre of Western culture. The supremacy of Rome, set up at the Council
of Whitby, was fostered and sustained by the introduction of the Italian
arts. Vast quantities of books were imported. Stately Abbeys were rising
along the coast, and students were flocking to seek the fruits of the new
learning in well-filled libraries and bustling schools. We may judge how
bright the prospect seemed by the tone of Alcuin's letters to Charles the
Great. He tells the Emperor of certain 'exquisite books' which he had
studied under Egbert at York. The schools of the North are compared to 'a
garden enclosed' and to the beds of spices: he asks that some of the
young men may be sent over to procure books, so that in Tours as well as
at York they may gather the flowers of the garden and share in the
'outgoings of Paradise.' A few years afterwards came the news of the
harrying of Northumbria by the Vikings. The libraries were burned, and
Northumbria was overwhelmed in darkness and slavery; and Alcuin wrote
again, 'He who can hear of this calamity and not cry to God on behalf of
his country, must have a heart not of flesh but of stone.'
Benedict Biscop was our first English book-collector. The son of a rich
Thane might have looked to a political career; he preferred to devote
himself to learning, and would have spent his life in a Roman monastery
if the Pope had not ordered him to return to England in company with
Theodore of Tarsus. His first expedition was made with his friend St.
Wilfrid. They crossed in a ship provided by the King of Kent. Travelling
together as far as Lyons, Wilfrid remained there for a time, and Benedict
pushed on to Mont Cenis, and so to Rome, after a long and perilous
journey. On a second visit he received the tonsure, and went back to work
at Lindisfarne; but about two years afterwards he obtained a passage to
Italy in a trading-vessel, and it was on this occasion that he received
the Pope's commands. Four years elapsed before he was in Rome again:
throughout the year 671 he was amassing books by purchase and by the
gifts of his friends; and returning by Vienne he found another large
store awaiting him which he had ordered on his outward journey. Benedict
was able to set up a good library in his new Abbey at Wearmouth; but his
zeal appears to have been insatiable. We find him for the fifth time at
the mart of learning, and bringing home, as Bede has told us, 'a
multitude of books of all kinds.' He divided his new wealth between the
Church at Wearmouth and the Abbey at Jarrow, across the river. Ceolfrid
of Jarrow himself made a journey to Rome with the object of augmenting
Benedict's 'most noble and copious store'; but he gave to the King of
Northumbria, in exchange for a large landed estate, the magnificent
'Cosmography' which his predecessor had brought to Wearmouth.
St. Wilfrid presented to his church at Ripon a _Book of the Gospels_ on
purple vellum, and a Bible with covers of pure gold inlaid with precious
stones. John the Precentor, who introduced the Roman liturgy into this
country, bequeathed a number of valuable books to Wearmouth. Bede had no
great library of his own; it was his task 'to disseminate the treasures
of Benedict.' But he must have possessed a large number of manuscripts
while he was writing the Ecclesiastical History, since he has informed us
that Bishop Daniel of Winchester and other learned churchmen in the South
were accustomed to supply him constantly with records and chronicles.
St. Boniface may be counted among the collectors, though he could carry
but a modest supply of books through the German forests and the marshes
of Friesland. As a missionary he found it useful to display a
finely-painted volume. Writing to the Abbess Eadburga for a Missal, he
asked that the parchment might be gay with colours,--'even as a
glittering lamp and an illumination for the hearts of the Gentiles.' 'I
entreat you,' he writes again, 'to send me _St. Peters Epistle_ in
letters of gold.' He begged all his friends to send him books as a
refreshment in the wilderness. Bishop Daniel is asked for the
_Prophecies_ 'written very large.' Bishop Lulla is to send a cosmography
and a volume of poems. He applies to one Archbishop for the works of
Bede, 'who is the lamp of the Church,' and to the other for the Pope's
_Answers to Augustine_, which cannot be found in the Roman bookshops.
Boniface was Primate of Germany; but he resigned his high office to work
among the rude tribes of Friesland. We learn that he carried some of his
choicest books with him on his last ill-fated expedition, when the meadow
and the river-banks were strewn with the glittering service-books after
the murder of the Saint and his companions.
Egbert of York set up a large library in the Minster. Alcuin took charge
of it after his friend's death, and composed a versified catalogue, of
such merit as the nature of the task allowed. 'Here you may trace the
footsteps of the Fathers; here you meet the clear-souled Aristotle and
Tully of the mighty tongue; here Basil and Fulgentius shine, and
Cassiodorus and John of the Golden Mouth.' As Alcuin was returning from
book-buying at Rome he met Charles the Great at Parma. The Emperor
persuaded the traveller to enter his service, and they succeeded by their
joint efforts in producing a wonderful revival of literature. The Emperor
had a fine private collection of MSS. adorned in the Anglo-Frankish
style; and he established a public library, containing the works of the
Fathers, 'so that the poorest student might find a place at the banquet
of learning.' Alcuin presented to the Emperor's own collection a revised
copy of the Vulgate illuminated under his personal supervision.
Towards the end of Alcuin's career he retired to the Abbey of St. Martin
at Tours, and there founded his 'Museum,' which was in fact a large
establishment for the editing and transcription of books. Here he wrote
those delightful letters from which we have already made an extract. To
his friend Arno at Salzburg he writes about a little treatise on
orthography, which he would have liked to have recited in person. 'Oh
that I could turn the sentences into speech, and embrace my brother with
a warmth that cannot be sent in a book; but since I cannot come myself I
send my rough letters, that they may speak for me instead of the words of
my mouth.' To the Emperor he sent a description of his life at Tours: 'In
the house of St. Martin I deal out the honey of the Scriptures, and some
I excite with the ancient wine of wisdom, and others I fill full with the
fruits of grammatical learning.'
Very few book-lovers could be found in England while the country was
being ravaged by the Danes. The Northern Abbeys were burned, and their
libraries destroyed. The books at York perished, though the Minster was
saved; the same fate befell the valuable collections at Croyland and
Peterborough. The royal library at Stockholm contains the interesting
'Golden Gospels,' decorated in the same style as the _Book of
Lindisfarne_, and perhaps written at the same place. An inscription of
the ninth century shows that it was bought from a crew of pirates by Duke
Alfred, a nobleman of Wessex, and was presented by him and his wife
Werburga to the Church at Canterbury.
It seems possible that literature was kept alive in our country by King
Alfred's affection for the old English songs. We know that he used to
recite them himself and would make his children get them by heart. He was
not much of a scholar himself, but he had all the learning of Mercia to
help him. Archbishop Plegmund and his chaplains were the King's
secretaries, 'and night and day, whenever he had time, he commanded these
men to read to him.' From France came Provost Grimbald, a scholar and a
sweet singer, and Brother John of Corbei, a paragon in all kinds of
science. Asser came to the Court from his home in Wales: 'I remained
there,' he says, 'for about eight months, and all that time I used to
read to him whatever books were at hand; for it was his regular habit by
day and night, amidst all his other occupations, either to read to
himself or to listen while others read to him.' St. Dunstan was an ardent
admirer of the old battle-chaunts and funeral-lays. He was, it need
hardly be said, the friend of all kinds of learning. The Saint was an
expert scribe and a painter of miniatures; and specimens of his exquisite
handiwork may still be seen at Canterbury and in the Bodleian at Oxford.
He was the real founder of the Glastonbury library, where before his time
only a few books had been presented by missionaries from Ireland. His
great work was the establishment of the Benedictines in the place of the
regular clergy: and the reform at any rate insured the rise of a number
of new monasteries, each with its busy 'scriptorium,' out of which the
library would grow. We must say a word in remembrance of Archbishop
Ælfric, the author of a great part of our English Chronicle. He was
trained at Winchester, where the illuminators, it is said, were 'for a
while the foremost in the world.' He enacted that every priest should
have at least a psalter and hymn-book and half a dozen of the most
important service-books, before he could hope for ordination. His own
library, containing many works of great value, was bequeathed to the
Abbey of St. Alban's. We end the story of the Anglo-Saxon books with a
mention of Leofric, the first Bishop of Exeter, who gave a magnificent
donation out of his own library to the Cathedral Church. The catalogue is
still extant, and some of the volumes are preserved at Oxford. There were
many devotional works of the ordinary kind; there were 'reading-books for
winter and summer,' and song-books, and especially 'night-songs'; but the
greatest treasure of all was the 'great book of English poetry,' known as
the Exeter Book, in which Cynewulf sang of the ruin of the 'purple arch,'
and set forth the Exile's Lament and the Traveller's Song.