a true bibliophile, was Sir John Englis Dolben (1750-1837), of Finedon
Hall, Northamptonshire. He was educated at Westminster School,
proceeding thence to Christ Church in 1768. Previously to his final
retirement into the country, he lingered with much affection about the
haunts of his youthful studies. He carried so many volumes about with
him in his numerous and capacious pockets that he appeared like a
walking library, and his memory, particularly in classical quotations,
was equally richly stored. This is one side of the picture. This is the
other side, in which we get a view of the man-about-town collector in
the person of Alexander Dalrymple (1737-1808), the hydrographer to the
Admiralty and to the East India Company: 'His yellow antiquarian chariot
seemed to be immovably fixed in the street, just opposite the
entrance-door of the long passage leading to the sale-room of Messrs.
King and Lochée, in King Street, Covent Garden; and towards the bottom
of the table, in the sale-room, Mr. Dalrymple used to sit, a cane in his
hand, his hat always upon his head, a thin, slightly-twisted queue, and
silver hairs that hardly shaded his temple. . . . His biddings were
usually silent, accompanied by the elevation and fall of his cane, or by
an abrupt nod of the head.'
[Illustration: _Michael Wodhull, Book-collector._]
The Osterley Park Library, sold by order of the seventh Earl of Jersey
at Sotheby's in 1885, was commenced in the last century, the original
founder being Bryan Fairfax, who died in 1747. His books came into the
hands of Alderman Child, who was not only a book-collector, but
inherited Lord Mavor Child's books. The fifth Earl of Jersey married
Mr. Child's grand-daughter in 1804. Two mighty hunters of the old
school may be here briefly mentioned--John Towneley and Michael Wodhull,
the poet, both of whose collections were dispersed in several portions,
partly at the beginning of the present century, and partly within quite
recent times. The founder of the 'Bibliotheca Towneleiana' was for a
long period of years an ardent collector, his favourite studies being
English history, topography, and portraits. The great gem of his
collection was the splendid 'Vita Christi,' gorgeously ornamented with
full-page paintings, and with miniatures superbly executed in colours,
heightened with gold, by Giulio Clovio, in the finest style of Italian
art. This MS. was executed for Alexander, Cardinal Farnese, and
presented to Pope Paul III. It was purchased abroad by a Mr. Champernoun
for an inconsiderable sum, and cost Mr. Towneley 400 guineas. At its
sale in 1883 it realized £2,050. Two portions of the Towneley Library
were dispersed by Evans in 1814-15 (seventeen days), and realized over
£8,597, and other portions were sold in 1816 and 1817. Towneley himself
died in May, 1813, aged eighty-two. The remainder of his extensive
collection was sold at Sotheby's in 1883 (ten days). Wodhull, who died
November 10, 1816, aged seventy-six, had two sales during his lifetime,
first in 1801 (chiefly duplicates), and secondly in 1803 (chiefly Greek
and Roman classics). He, however, reserved for himself a library of
about 4,000, which, passing into the possession of Mr. F. E. Severne,
M.P., was sold at Sotheby's in January, 1886, and realized a total of
£11,973 4s. 6d. He is the Orlando of Dibdin's 'Bibliomania.' The Greek
and Roman classics formed the chief attraction of this _post-mortem_
sale, which is generally regarded as one of the most important of its
kind held during recent years. Most of the prizes were picked up in
France after 1803, and it was during one of his book-hunting expeditions
in Paris that Wodhull was detained by Napoleon.
Two other 'fashionable' or titled collectors may be here grouped
together. The fine library formed by William, Marquis of Lansdowne was
dispersed by Leigh and Sotheby in thirty-one days, beginning with
January 6, 1806, the 6,530 lots realizing £6,701 2s. 6d. The highest
amount paid for a single lot was for a very rare collection of tracts,
documents, and pamphlets, in over 280 volumes, illustrating the history
of the French Revolution, together with forty-nine volumes relative to
the transactions in the Low Countries between the years 1787 and 1792,
and their separation from the House of Austria. Wynkyn de Worde's
'Rycharde Cure de Lyon,' 1528, sold for £47 5s.; and a curious
collection of 'Masks' and 'Triumphs,' of the early seventeenth century,
mostly by Ben Jonson, realized £40. As a book-collector Sir Mark
Masterman Sykes is a much better remembered figure in the annals of
book-hunting than that of the Marquis of Lansdowne. The Sykes library
contained a number of the _editiones principes_ of the classics, some on
vellum, and also a number of Aldines in the most perfect condition.
There were also many highly curious and very rare pieces of early
English poetry. The collection was sold at Evans's in 1824, and the gems
of the collection were a copy of the Mazarin Bible, and the Latin
Psalter, 1459, to which full reference is made in a subsequent chapter.
II.
The history of literature, it is said, teaches us to consider its
decline only as the development of a great principle of succession by
which the treasures of the mind are circulated and equalized; as shoots
by which the stream of improvement is forcibly directed into new
channels, to fertilize new soils and awaken new capabilities. The
history of book-collecting teaches us a similar lesson. The love which
so often amounted to a positive passion for the exquisite productions of
the Age of Illuminated Manuscripts, all but died with the introduction
of the printing-press, which in reality was but a continuation of the
old art in a new form. And so on, down through the successive decades
and generations of the past four centuries, the decline--but not the
death, for such a term cannot be applied to any phase of
book-collecting--of one particular aspect of the hobby has synchronized
with the birth of several others, sometimes more worthy, and at others
less. An exhaustive inquiry into the various and manifold changes
through which the human mind passed alone might account for these
various developments, which it is not the intention of the present
writer on this occasion to analyze.
The rise and progress of what Sir Egerton Brydges calls 'the
black-letter mania' gave the death-blow to the long-cherished school of
poetry of which Pope may be taken as the most distinguished exponent.
'Men of loftier taste and bolder fancy early remonstrated against this
chilling confinement of the noblest, the most aspiring, and most
expansive of all the Arts. . . . It was not till the commotion of Europe
broke the chain of indolence and insipid effeminacy that the stronger
passions of readers required again to be stimulated and exercised and
soothed, and that the minor charms of correctness were sacrificed to the
ardent efforts of uncontrolled and unfearing genius. The authors of this
class began to look back for their materials to an age of hazardous
freedom, and copious and untutored eloquence: an age in which the world
of words and free and native ideas was not contracted and blighted by
technical critics and cold and fastidious scholars.' To abandon the
abstract for the more matter-of-fact details of sober history, the mania
to which Brydges alludes may be said to date itself from the spring of
1773. The occasion was the sale in London of the library of James West,
President of the Royal Society. George Nicol, the bookseller, was an
extensive purchaser at this sale for the King, for whom, indeed, he
acted in a similar capacity up to the last. Nicol told Dibdin 'with his
usual pleasantry and point, that he got abused in the public papers, by
Almon and others, for having purchased nearly the whole of the Caxtonian
volumes in this collection for his Majesty's library. It was said abroad
that a Scotchman had lavished away the King's money in buying old
black-letter books.' The absurdity of this report was soon proved at
subsequent sales. Dibdin adds, as a circumstance highly honourable to
the King, that 'his Majesty, in his directions to Mr. Nicol, forbade any
competition with those purchasers who wanted books of science and
_belles lettres_ for their own progressive or literary pursuits; thus
using the power of his purse in a manner at once merciful and wise.'
[Illustration: _George Nicol, the King's Bookseller._]
The impetus which book-collecting, and more particularly the section to
which we have just referred, received by the dispersal of the West
Library gathered in force as time went on, reaching its climax with the
Roxburghe sale thirty-nine years afterwards. The enthusiasm culminated
in a club--the Roxburghe, which still flourishes. The warfare (at
Roxburghe House, St. James's Square), as Mr. Silvanus Urban has
recorded, was equalled only by the courage and gallantry displayed on
the plains of Salamanca about the same period. 'As a pillar, or other
similar memorial, could not be conveniently erected to mark the spot
where so many bibliographical champions fought and conquered, another
method was adopted to record their fame, and perpetuate this brilliant
epoch in literary annals. Accordingly, a phalanx of the most hardy
veterans has been enrolled under the banner of the far-famed Valdarfer's
Boccaccio of 1471. . . . The first anniversary meeting of this noble
band was celebrated at the St. Alban's Tavern [St. Alban's Street, now
Waterloo Place] on Thursday, June 17, 1813, being the memorable day on
which the before-mentioned Boccaccio was sold for £2,260. The chair was
taken by Earl Spencer (perpetual president of the club), supported by
Lords Morpeth and Gower, and the following gentlemen,[61:A] viz., Sir E.
Brydges, Messrs. W. Bentham, W. Bolland, J. Dent, T. F. Dibdin
(vice-president), Francis Freeling, Henry Freeling, Joseph Hazlewood,
Richard Heber, Thomas C. Heber, G. Isted, R. Lang, J. H. Markland, J. D.
Phelps, T. Ponton, junior, J. Towneley, E. V. Utterson, and R.
Wilbraham. Upon the cloth being removed, the following appropriate
toasts were delivered from the chair:
1. The cause of Bibliomania all over the world.
2. The immortal memory of Christopher Valdarfer,
the printer of the Boccaccio of 1471.
3. The immortal memory of William Caxton, first
English printer.
4. The immortal memory of Wynkyn de Worde.
5. The immortal memory of Richard Pynson.
6. The immortal memory of Julian Notary.
7. The immortal memory of William Faques.
8. The immortal memory of the Aldine family.
9. The immortal memory of the Stephenses.
10. The immortal memory of John, Duke of Roxburghe.
'After these the health of the noble president was proposed, and
received by the company standing, with three times three. Then followed
the health of the worthy vice-president (proposed by Mr. Heber),
which, it is scarcely necessary to observe, was drunk with similar
honours. . . . The president was succeeded in the chair by Lord Gower,
who, at midnight, yielded to Mr. Dent; and that gentleman gave way to
the Prince of Bibliomaniacs, Mr. Heber. Though the night, or rather the
morning, wore apace, it was not likely that a seat so occupied would be
speedily deserted; accordingly, the "regal purple stream" ceased not to
flow till "Morning oped her golden gates," or, in plain terms, till past
four o'clock.' Such is a brief account of the Roxburghe Club, which is
limited to thirty-one members, one black ball being fatal to the
candidate who offers himself for a vacancy, and each member in his
annual turn has to print a book or pamphlet, and to present to his
fellow-members a copy. Before making any further reference to the
_personnel_ of the Roxburghe Club, we quote, from a literary journal of
1823, the following trenchant paragraph, _à propos_ of a similar club in
Scotland:
'BIBLIOMANIA.--This most ridiculous of all the affectations of the day
has lately exhibited another instance of its diffusion, in the
establishment of a _Roxburghe[62:A] Club_ in Edinburgh. Its object, we
are told, "is the republication of scarce and valuable tracts,
especially poetry."--"Republication!" In what manner? Commonsense forbid
that the system of the London Roxburghe Club be adopted. Of this there
are some four-and-twenty members or so, who dine together a certain
number of times in the year, and each member in his turn republishes
some old tract at his own expense. There are just so many copies printed
as there are members of the club, and one copy is presented to each. It
is evident that no sort of good can be effected by this system, and,
indeed, there has not yet resulted any benefit to the literature of the
country from the Roxburghe Club. They have not published a single book
of any conceivable merit. The truth is that the members, for the most
part, are a set of persons of no true taste, of no proper notion of
learning and its uses--very considerable persons in point of wealth, but
very _so-so_ in point of intellect.'
[Illustration: _Thomas Frognall Dibdin, Bibliographer._]
The primary aim and object of the Roxburghe Club were clearly enough
indicated in the first list of members, for the association of men with
kindred tastes is at all times a highly commendable one. The Roxburghe
Club might have sustained its _raison d'être_, if it had drawn the line
at such men as Thomas Frognall Dibdin and Joseph Hazlewood. The
foregoing extract from the _Museum_ of 1823 exactly indicates the
position which the club at that time held in public estimation. It had
degenerated into a mere drinking and gormandizing association, alike a
disgrace to its more respectable members and an insult to the nobleman
whose name it was dragging through the mire. Those who have an
opportunity of consulting the _Athenæum_ for 1834 will find, in the
first four issues of January, one of the most scathing exposures to
which any institution has ever been subjected. Hazlewood had died, and
his books came into the sale-room. Never had the adage of 'Dead men tell
no tales' been more completely falsified. Hazlewood, who does not seem
to have been unpleasantly particular in telling the truth when living,
told it with a vengeance after his death; for among his papers there was
a bundle entitled 'Roxburghe Revels,' which Thorpe purchased for £40,
the editor of the _Athenæum_ being the under-bidder. A few days
afterwards, and for the weighty consideration of a £10 note profit, the
lot passed into the hands of Mr. Dilke, and the articles to which we
have referred followed.[64:A] If anything could have made the deceased
Joseph turn in his grave, it would have been the attention which he
received at the unsparing hands of Mr. Dilke. The excellent Mr. Dibdin
survived the exposure several years. The castigation proved beneficial
to the club; and if its revelries were no less boisterous than
heretofore, it at all events circulated among its members books worthy
of the name of Roxburghe, and edited in a scholarly manner. The club
still flourishes, with the Marquis of Salisbury as its president, and
the list of its members will be found in our chapter on 'Modern
Collectors.'
[Illustration: _Rev. C. Mordaunt Cracherode, M.A., Book-collector._]
One of the mighty book-hunters of the last century was the Rev. Clayton
Mordaunt Cracherode (whose father went out as a commander of marines in
Anson's ship, and whose share in the prize-money made him a wealthy
man), who died on April 6, 1799, in his seventieth year. His splendid
library now forms a part of the British Museum. It contains the most
choice copies in classical and Biblical literature, and many of these
are on vellum. His collection of editions of the fifteenth century Mr.
Cracherode used modestly to call a 'specimen' one; 'they form perhaps
the most perfect _collana_ or necklace ever strung by one man.' Several
of the books formerly belonged to Grolier. His library was valued at
£10,000 at or about the time of his death; it would probably now realize
considerably over ten times that amount if submitted to auction. The
value of his prints was placed at £5,000. Cracherode was an excellent
scholar, and an amiable; his passion for collecting was strong even in
death, for whilst he was at the last extremity his agent was making
purchases for him. He was one of the most constant habitués of Tom
Payne's, and at his final visit he put an Edinburgh Terence in one
pocket and a large-paper Cebes in the other. His house was in Queen
Square, Westminster, overlooking St. James's Park.
Reverting once more to the change which had been effected in the fancies
of book-collectors, James Bindley, whose library was sold after his
decease in 1819, and James Perry, who died in 1821, may be regarded as
typical collectors of the transition period. Both are essentially London
book-hunters--the former was an official in the Stamp Office, and the
latter was, _inter alia_, the editor of the _Morning Chronicle_.
Bindley, to whom John Nichols dedicated his 'Literary Anecdotes,' was a
book-hunter who made very practical use of his scholarly tastes and
ample means. He haunted the bookstalls and shops with the pertinacity of
a tax-gatherer, and if his original expenditure were placed by the side
of the total which his collection of books brought after his death, no
more convincing arguments in favour of book-hunting could possibly be
needed. Bindley is the 'Leontes' of Dibdin's 'Bibliographical
Decameron,' and his collection of poetical rarities of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries was one of the most remarkable which had ever been
got together. Not many of the items had cost him more than a few
shillings each, and they realized almost as many pounds as he had paid
shillings. Perry was a journalist first and a book-collector afterwards,
but in many respects there was a great similarity in the tastes of the
two rival bibliophiles. Perry's was the more extensive collection--it
was sold in four parts, 1822-23--and perhaps on the whole much more
generally interesting. Evans, the auctioneer, described it as 'an
extraordinary assemblage of curious books, Early English poetry, old
tracts and miscellaneous literature.' The _cheval de bataille_ of the
fourth part consisted of 'a most Curious, Interesting and
Extraordinarily Extensive Assemblage of Political and Historical
Pamphlets of the Last and Present Century.' This collection was
comprised in thirty-five bundles. Perry made a speciality of facetiæ,
pamphlets on the French Revolution, and Defoe's works, but the two
cornerstones of his library were a copy of the Mazarin Bible and a First
Folio Shakespeare.
Among the many book-collectors whose careers link the past century with
the present, few are more worthy of notice than Francis Douce, who died
in the spring of 1834, aged seventy-seven. He was for a short time
Keeper of the MSS. in the British Museum. His fortune was much increased
by being left one of the residuary legatees of Nollekens, the
sculptor--to the extent, in fact, of £50,000. Dibdin, who was for many
years a near neighbour and intimate friend at Kensington, describes
Douce's library as 'eminently rich and curious . . . not a book but what
had its fly-leaf written upon. In short, no man ever lived so much with,
and so entirely for, his books as did he.' Douce is the Prospero of the
'Bibliomania.' His books he bequeathed to the Bodleian, and his MSS. to
the British Museum, the stipulation in the latter case being that they
are not to be opened until 1900! In manners and appearance Douce was
singular and strange, rough to strangers, but gentle and kind to those
who knew him intimately. He was of the old school as regards dress,
wearing as he did a little flaxen wig, an old-fashioned square-cut coat,
with what M. Jacob calls 'quarto pockets.' Several of his letters are
printed in Dibdin's 'Literary Recollections.'
Two other distinguished book-collectors, contemporary with Douce, and,
like him, benefactors to the Bodleian, may be mentioned here--Richard
Gough (1739-1809), the antiquary; and Edmond Malone (1741-1812), the
Shakespearian scholar. Gough's gift consisted of the topographical
portion of his library; the remainder, comprising 4,373 lots, realizing
the total of £3,552, came under the hammer at Leigh and Sotheby's in
1810, realizing what were then considered very fancy prices (a selection
of which are given in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, lxxx., part ii.). The
Malone collection, which became the property of the Bodleian through the
influence of Lord Sunderlin in 1815, comprised what the collector
himself describes as 'the most curious, valuable, and extensive
collection ever assembled of ancient English plays and poetry.' It would
probably be impossible now to form another such collection. Malone told
Caldwell, who repeats the remarkable fact, that he had procured every
dramatic piece mentioned by Langbaine, excepting four or five--the
advantage, observes that gentleman, of living in London. The number of
volumes amounts to about 3,200. As his biographer, Sir James Prior, has
pointed out, his collection in the Bodleian remains distinct, and is
creditable 'alike to the industry, taste, and patience by which it was
brought together.' And further: 'None of his predecessors have attempted
what he accomplished. Few of his successors have, on most points, added
materially to our knowledge.' Yet a third benefactor to the Bodleian may
be conveniently mentioned here. Thomas Caldecott, who was born in 1744,
and died in 1833, was a Fellow of New College, Oxford, and afterwards a
Bencher of the Middle Temple. He resided chiefly at Dartford, and formed
a choice library of black-letter books, and the productions of the
Elizabethan period. He attacked with considerable asperity and ability
Shakespearian commentators, such as Steevens and Malone; and his rivals
did not spare his edition of two of Shakespeare's plays when they came
out. He presented the gems of his library, the Shakespeare quartos, to
the Bodleian; but the remainder of his books, including many excessively
rare and several unique pieces, came up for sale at Sotheby's in 1833,
and realized a total of £1,210 6s. 6d.
The splendid library of John Dent, of Hertford Street, sold by Evans in
1827, producing the sum of £15,040, had a curious history. The nucleus
of it was formed towards the close of the last century by Haughton
James, who, in a moment of conviviality, and without a due consideration
of its true value, transferred it to Robert Heathcote,[68:A] who made
several additions, and from whose possession it passed about 1807 into
that of John Dent. The sale of the Dent library is described by Dibdin
as exhibiting the 'first grand melancholy symptoms of the decay of the
Bibliomania.' The chief attraction was the Sweynheym and Pannartz Livy,
1469, on vellum, which fell (in more senses than one) under the hammer
for £262, Dent having paid £903 for it at Sir Mark Sykes' sale. Both the
purchasers, Payne and Foss, and Dibdin, made strenuous efforts to
persuade the Earl of Spencer to purchase it, but unsuccessfully; it
subsequently became the property of Grenville, and passed with his
collection into the British Museum. Dent is the Pontevallo of the
'Bibliomania,' and Baroccio of the 'Bibliographical Decameron,' and does
not seem to have been an altogether amiable specimen of the fraternity.
Canning used to say that he once found Dent deep in the study of an open
book which was upside down!
A much more genial bibliomaniac, Sir William Bolland, calls for notice;
he was one of the original members of the Roxburghe Club, which, in
fact, was first suggested at a dinner-party at his house, June 4, 1812.
He died May 14, 1840, aged sixty-eight, and his library, which comprised
2,940 lots, and realized £3,019, was sold by Evans, and included many
choice books. One of the greatest bargains which this distinguished
collector secured during his career became his property through the
medium of Benjamin Wheatley, who purchased a bundle of poetical tracts
from the Chapter Library at Lincoln for 80 guineas. When the inevitable
sale came, one of these trifles, 'The Rape of Lucrece,' alone realized
100 guineas.