Old English libraries

up.[348] Many gifts of books were received, some from the highest in the land: from King Henry the Fourth and his warlike and ambitious sons—Henry V, Clarence, Bedford, and Gloucester; from Edmund, Earl of March; from prelates—Archbishop Arundel, Repyngton of Lincoln, Courtney of Norwich, and Molyneux of Chichester; from great Abbot Whethamstede of St. Albans; from wealthy Archdeacon Browne or Cordone; from rich citizens of London—Thomas Knolles the grocer and T. Grauntt; and from Henry VI’s physician, John Somersett. John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, also promised books worth five hundred marks, but after his death they did not come to hand.[349]

By far the most generous of friends was the Duke of Gloucester, whose first gift was made before 1413,[350] and his last when he died in 1447. His record as the helper and protector of Oxford, his patronage of learning, and of such exponents of it as Titus Livius of Forli, Leonardo Bruni, Lydgate and Capgrave, the fact that, notwithstanding his “staat and dignyte,”

earned for him the name of the “good” duke—an appellation to which the shady labyrinth of his career as a politician, as a persecutor of the Lollards, and as a licentious man, did not entitle him. But then Oxford—and its library—was most in need of such a friend as this English Gismondo Malatesta; not only on account of his generosity, but because his royal connexions enabled him to exert influence on the University’s behalf, both at home and abroad.

Of the character of the Duke’s gifts in 1413 and in

1430 we know nothing: in 1435 he gave books and money, but how many books or how much money is not recorded. Three years later the University sought another gift from him, and he forthwith sent no fewer than 120 volumes (1439).[351] The University’s gratitude was unbounded. On certain festivals during the Duke’s lifetime prayers were to be said for him, within ten days after he died a funeral service was to be celebrated, and on every anniversary of his death he and his consort were to be commemorated.[352] Their letters were fulsome: as a founder of libraries he was compared with Julius Cæsar—a compliment also paid him about the same time by Pier Candid Decembrio; Parliament was besought to thank him “hertyly, and also prey Godd to thanke hym in tyme commyng, wher goode dedys ben rewarded”;[353] as a prince he was most serene and illustrious, lord of glorious renown, son of a king, brother of a king, uncle of a king, “the very beams of the sun himself”; as a donor, as greatly and munificently liberal as the recipients were lowly and humble.[354]

Congregation further marked its appreciation by decreeing a fresh set of library regulations. A new register, containing a list of the books already given, was to be made, and deposited in the chest “of five keys”; lists were also to be written in the statute books. No volume was to be sold, given away, exchanged, pledged, lent to be copied, or removed from the library—except when it needed repair, or when the Duke himself wanted to borrow it, as he could, though only under indenture.[355] All books for the study of the seven liberal arts—the trivium and the quadrivium—and the three philosophies were to be kept in a chest called the “chest of the three philosophies and the seven sciences”; a name suggesting a talisman, like the golden fleece or the Holy Grail, for which one would exchange the world and all its ways. The librarian had charge of this wonderful chest. From it, by indenture, he could lend books—apparently these books were excepted from the general rule—to masters of arts lecturing in these subjects, or, if there were no lecturers, to principals of halls and masters. And, following older custom, a stationer set upon each book a price greater than its real value, to lead borrowers to take more care of it.[356] From a manuscript preserved in the library of Earl Fitzwilliam at Wentworth Woodhouse are taken the following curious lines indicating the character and arrangement of his books:—

A year later Gloucester sent 7 more books; then after a while 9 more (1440-41);[358] and a little later still his largest gift, amounting to 135 volumes. These handsome accessions made the collection the finest academic library in England, not excepting the excellent library of 380 volumes then at Peterhouse. It had a character of its own. The usual overwhelming mass of Bibles, of church books, of the Fathers and the Schoolmen does not depress us with its disproportion. The collection was strong in astronomy and medicine: Ptolemy, Albumazar, Rhazes, Serapion, Avicenna, Haly Abenragel, Zaæl, and others were all represented. Besides these, there was a fine selection of the classics—Plato, Aristotle, including the Politica and Ethica, Æschines’ orations, Terence, Varro’s De Originae linguae Latinae, Cicero’s letters, Verrine and other orations, and “opera viginti duo Tullii in magno volumine,” Livy, Ovid, Seneca’s tragedies, Quintilian, Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, the Golden Ass of Apuleius, and Suetonius. But the most interesting items in the list of his books are the new translations of Plato, and of Aristotle, whose Ethica was rendered by Leonardo Bruni; the Greek and Latin dictionary; and the works of Dante, Petrarch (de Vita solitaria, de Rebus memorandis, de Remediis

utriusque fortunae), Boccaccio, and of Coluccio Salutati’s letters.[359]

The library’s character might still further have been freshened had Gloucester’s bequest of his Latin books—the books, we may suppose, he himself prized too highly to part with during his lifetime—been carried into effect.[360]

“Our right special Lord and mighty Prince the Duke of Gloucester, late passed out of this world,—whose soul God assoil for his high mercy,—not long before his decease, being in our said University among all the doctors and masters of the same assembled together, granted unto us all his Latin books, to the loving of God, increase of clergy and cunning men, to the good governance and prosperity of the realm of England without end ... the which gift oftentimes after, by our messengers, and also in his last testament, as we understand, he confirmed.” But alas! Gloucester’s bequest was even more elusive than Cobham’s. These books they could, “by no manner of labours, since he deceased, obtain.”[361] What followed is interesting. Letters asking for the books were sent to the king, to Mr. John Somersett, His Majesty’s physician, “lately come to influence,” to William of Waynflete, provost of the king’s pet project, Eton College, and much in favour; and to the king’s chamberlain (1447). As these appeals were unavailing, another letter was sent to the king in 1450, and several others to influential persons, some being to Gloucester’s executors; then, in the same year, the House of Lords was petitioned. All this wire-pulling failed to serve its end. The University became angry. An outspoken letter was sent to Master John Somersett, “lately come to influence”: “Our proctor, Mr. Luke, tells us of your efforts for us to obtain the books given by the late Duke of Gloucester, and of your intercession with the king in our cause: also that you propose to add, of your own gift, other books to his bequest.” All this is very good of you, the letter proceeds, in effect, “but how is it that, under these circumstances, the Duke’s books, which came into your custody, are not delivered to us, unless it be that some powerful influence is exerted to prevent it; for a steadfast and good man will not be made to swerve from the path of justice by interest or cupidity. Use your endeavours to get these books: so do us a good favour; and clear your character.” Three years later it was discovered the books were scattered and in private hands (1453),[362] or, as seems likely, at King’s College, Cambridge, and Eton.

Now the library over the Congregation House was all too small. A Divinity School seems to have been first projected in 1423; building began about seven years later;[363] but the work proceeded very slowly, owing to want of money, which the authorities tried to raise in various ways, even by granting degrees on easy terms. When Gloucester’s books came to overcrowd the old library—and the books were chained so closely together that a student when reading one prevented the use of three or four books near to it—the idea was apparently first mooted of erecting a bigger room over the new school, where scholars might study far from the hum of men (a strepitu saeculari). The University sent an appeal to the Duke for help to carry out this scheme (1445), but he had then lost power and was in trouble, and does not seem to have responded favourably, albeit they suggested adroitly the new library should bear his name.[364] The building was

finished forty years after his death. This ultimate success was due chiefly to the generosity of Cardinal Beaufort, the Duchess of Suffolk, and Cardinal Kempe—whose own library was magnificent.[365]

By 1488, then, the University was in full enjoyment of the chamber known ever since as Duke Humfrey’s Library, the noblest storehouse of books then existing in England.[366] In the same year an old scholar, not known by name, gave 31 books, and in 1490 Dr. Litchfield, Archdeacon of Middlesex, presented 132 volumes and a sum of £200. These gifts mark the culminating point in the history of the first University library—a collection over a century and a half old, accumulated slowly by the forethought and generosity of the University’s friends, only, alas! in a few years’ time to be almost completely dispersed and destroyed.

§ II

Before speaking of the dispersion of the University collection it will be well to observe what had been done in the colleges, where libraries must have formed an important part of the collegiate economy. Books, indeed, were eagerly sought, carefully guarded and preserved; and wealthy Fellows—even Fellows not to be described as wealthy—often proved their affection for their college by giving manuscripts.

The first house of the University, William of Durham’s Hall or University Hall (now University College), was founded between 1249 and 1292, when its statutes were drawn up. In these statutes are the earliest regulations of the University for dealing with books in its possession.[367] It seems clear that the college enjoyed a library—perhaps of some importance,—with excellent regulations for its use, at the end of the thirteenth century. What is true of University College is true also of nearly all the other colleges. Although most of them were not rich foundations, one of the first efforts of a society was to collect books for common use. A few years after Merton’s inception (1264) the teacher of grammar was supplied with books out of the common purse, and directions were given for the care of books.[368] To Balliol, Bishop Gravesend of London bequeathed books (1336) some fifty years after the statutes were given by the founder’s wife.[369] Four years later Sir William de Felton presented to the college the advowson of the Church of Abboldesley, so that the number of scholars could be raised, each could have sufficient clothing, receive twelvepence a week, and possess in common books relating to the various Faculties.[370] The earliest reference to the library of Exeter College, or Stapledon Hall, occurs also about half a century after its foundation: in 1366 payment was made for copying a book called Domyltone—possibly one of John of Dumbleton’s works. Oriel College either had a library from its foundation, or the regulations of 1329 were drawn up for Bishop Cobham’s books, which Adam de Brome had redeemed. In 1375 Oriel certainly had its own library of nearly one hundred volumes, more than half of them being on theology and philosophy, with some translations of Aristotle, but otherwise not a single classic work; a collection to be fairly considered as representative of the academic libraries of this period.[371] Queen’s College was one of those to which Simon de Bredon, the astronomer, bequeathed books in 1368, nearly thirty years after its foundation.[372] “Seint Marie College of Wynchestr,” or New College, made a better start than any house (1380). The founder, William of Wykeham, endowed it with no fewer than 240 or 243 volumes, of which 135 or 138 were theology, 28 philosophy, 41 canon law, 36 civil law; somebody unnamed, but possibly the founder, presented 37 volumes of medicine and 15 chained books in the library; and Bishop Reed—also the good friend of Merton—gave 58 volumes of theology, 2 of philosophy, and 3 of canon law.[373] Lincoln College had a collection of books at its foundation (1429); Dr. Gascoigne gave 6 manuscripts worth nearly three pounds apiece (1432); and Robert Flemming, a cousin of the founder, renowned for his travels and studies and collections in Italy, left a number of manuscripts, variously estimated at 25 and 38 in number, to his house. In 1474 this college had 135 manuscripts, stored in seven presses. Rules for the use of books were included in the first statutes of All Souls College, founded in 1438. At Magdalen the library had a magnificent start when William of Waynflete brought with him no fewer than 800 volumes on his visit in 1481; many of these were printed books.

To tell the story of each of these early college libraries with continuity is not to our purpose, and is perhaps not feasible. So many details are lacking. We do not know whether all the libraries, once started, were constantly maintained; but it is reasonable to assume they were, as records—a few only—of purchases and donations are preserved. Usually gifts were made only to the college in which the donor felt special interest, but sometimes generous men were more catholic. Four colleges—University, Balliol, Merton, and Oriel—benefited under Bishop Stephen Gravesend’s will (1336); six—University, Balliol, Merton, Exeter, Oriel, and Queen’s—under the will of Simon de Bredon, astronomer and sometime Proctor of the University (1368): in both cases the testators distributed their gifts among all the secular colleges in existence at the time.[374] Dr. Thomas Gascoigne gave many books to Balliol, Oriel, Durham, and Lincoln Colleges (1432).[375] William Reed, Bishop of Chichester, also was the friend of more than one society, for New College, as we have seen, got 63 volumes from him, Exeter some others, and Merton 99.[376] Roger Whelpdale (d. 1423) bequeathed books to Balliol and Queen’s Colleges. Henry VI gave 23 manuscripts to All Souls College (1440). Robert Twaytes gave books to Balliol in 1451: his example was followed by George Nevil, Bishop of Exeter and afterwards Archbishop of York (1455, 1475), Dr. Bole (1478), and John Waltham (1492). An old Fellow showed his gratitude to University College by bestowing 68 books, mostly Scriptural commentaries, on its library (1473). Some of the gifts were smaller.[377] A chancellor of the church of York bequeathed a single volume to Merton. Bishop Skirlaw—a good friend of the college in other ways—gave 6 books to University in 1404: they were to be chained in the library and never lent. Such gifts were received as gratefully as the larger donations; indeed, it was esteemed a feather in the cap of the Master that while he held office Skirlaw’s books were received. Never at any time were books more highly appreciated than in Oxford of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Sometimes gifts took the form of money for a curious purpose. For example, Robert Hesyl, a country rector, bequeathed the sum of 6s. 8d. “ad intitulandum nomina librorum in libraria collegii Lincoln: contentorum, supra dorsa eorum coöperienda cornu et clavis.”[378] But the colleges did not depend wholly on gifts, for records are preserved of purchases for Queen’s College in 1366-67;[379] All Souls College between 1449 and 1460; for Magdalen College between 1481 and 1539; for Merton College between 1322 and 1379; and for New College between 1462 and 1481.

The growth of the libraries made the provision of special bookrooms a necessity. A library on the ground floor of University College is referred to in the Bursar’s Roll (1391). At Merton the books were originally kept in a chest under three locks. A room was set apart quite early: books were chained up in it in 1284. In 1354 a carpenter was paid for fittings and “deskis.” Bishop Reed of Chichester erected a library building in 1377-79; Wyllyot and John Wendover contributed towards the cost, which amounted to £462. With the exception of the room thrown into the south library at its eastern end, of two large dormers, and of the glass in the west room, the original structure has been altered very little, and it is therefore one of the best examples of a medieval library in this country. When the old library of Exeter College was first used we do not know: it was possibly one of the tenements originally given to the college by Peter de Skelton and partly repaired by the founder. Money was disbursed for thatching it in 1375.[380] Nearly ten years later a new library was put up. Bishop Brantingham and John More, rector of St. Petrock’s, Exeter, contributed handsomely towards the cost; another Bishop of Exeter, Edmund Stafford,—in whose time the name of the house was changed from Stapledon Hall to Exeter College,—enlarged the building in 1404; and Bishops Grandisson, Brantingham, Stafford, and Lacy gave books.[381] In the library room some of the books were chained to desks, and some were kept in chests.[382] All this points to a flourishing library at Exeter; although, on occasions when their yearly expenses were heavier than usual, the Fellows were obliged to pawn books to one of the loan chests of the University, or even to their barber.[383]

The monastic college of Durham enjoyed a “fayre library, well-desked and well flowred withe a timber Flowre over it,” built in 1417 and fitted in 1431.[384] Another college belonging to the monks of Christ Church, Canterbury, also had a library, which had been replenished with books from the mother-house.[385] In 1431 a library building was begun at Balliol College by Mr. Thomas Chace, after he had resigned the office of Master. Bishop William Grey, besides enriching his college with manuscripts, also completed the home for them (c. 1477), on a window of which are still to be read his name and the name of Robert Abdy, the Master.

In another window, on the north side, was inscribed—

The first library of Oriel College, on the east side of the quadrangle, was not erected until about 1444; before that the books seem to have been kept in chests, although the collection was large for the time.[387] As early as 1388-89 payments were made for making desks for the library of Queen’s College.[388] In the case of New, Lincoln, All Souls, and Magdalen Colleges, library rooms were included when the college buildings were first erected. Magdalen’s library was copied from All Souls: the windows in it were “to be as good as or better than” those in the earlier foundation.

§ III

Towards the end of the fifteenth century the beginning of the sad end of all this good work may be traced. Some part of the collections disappeared gradually. In 1458 books were chained at Exeter College, because some of them had been taken away. When volumes became damaged and worn out, they were not replaced by others. Some were pledged, and although every effort was made to redeem them, as at Exeter College in 1466, 1470, 1472 and 1473, yet it seems certain many were permanently alienated. Others were perhaps sold, or given away, as John Phylypp gave away two Exeter College manuscripts in 1468.[389] The University library was in similar case. When Erasmus saw the scanty remains of this collection he could have wept. “Before it had continued eighty years in its flourishing state,” writes Wood of the library, “[it] was rifled of its precious treasure by unreasonable persons. That several scholars would, upon small pledges given in, borrow books ... that were never restored. Polydore Virgil ... borrowed many after such a way; but at length being denied, did upon petition made to the king obtain his license for the taking out of any MS. for his use (in order, I suppose, for the collecting materials for his English History or Chronicle of England), which being imitated by others, the library thereby suffered very great loss.” Matters became still worse. Owing to the threatened suppression of the religious houses, the number of students at Oxford decreased enormously. In 1535, 108 men graduated, in the next year only 44 did so; until the end of Henry VIII’s reign the average number graduating was 57, and in Edward’s reign the average was 33.[390] Naturally, therefore, some laxity crept into the administration of the University and the colleges. Active enemies of our literary treasures were not behindhand. In 1535 Dr. Layton, visitor of monasteries, descended upon Oxford. “We have sett Dunce [Duns Scotus] in Bocardo, and have utterly banisshede hym Oxforde for ever, with all his blinde glosses, and is nowe made a comon servant to evere man, faste nailede up upon postes in all comon howses of easment: id quod oculis meis vidi. And the seconde tyme we came to New Colege, affter we hade declarede your injunctions, we fownde all the gret quadrant court full of the leiffes of Dunce, the wynde blowyng them into evere corner. And ther we fownde one Mr. Grenefelde, a gentilman of Bukynghamshire, getheryng up part of the saide bowke leiffes (as he saide) therwith to make hym sewelles or blawnsherres to kepe the

dere within the woode, therby to have the better cry with his howndes.”[391] A commission assembled at Oxford in 1550, and met many times at St. Mary’s Church. No documentary evidence of their treatment of libraries remains, but it was certainly most drastic. Any illuminated manuscript, or even a mathematical treatise illustrated with diagrams, was deemed unfit to survive, and was thrown out for sale or destruction. Some of the college libraries did not suffer severely. Most of Grey’s books survived in Balliol, although the miniatures were cut out. Queen’s, All Souls, and Merton came through the ordeal nearly unscathed. But Lincoln lost the books given by Gascoigne and the Italian importations of Flemming; Exeter College was purged. The University library itself was entirely dispersed. One of the commissioners, “by name Richard Coxe, Dean of Christ Church, shewed himself so zealous in purging this place of its rarities ... that ... savoured of superstition, that he left not one of those goodly MSS. given by the before mentioned benefactors. Of all which there were none restored in Q. Mary’s reign, when then an inquisition was made after them, but only one of the parts of Valerius Maximus, illustrated with the Commentaries of Dionysius de Burgo, an Augustine Fryer, and with the Tables of John Whethamsteed, Abbat of St. Alban’s. That some of the books so taken out by the Reformers were burnt, some sold away for Robin Hood’s pennyworths,[392] either to Booksellers, or to Glovers, to press their gloves, or Taylors to make measures, or to bookbinders to cover books bound by them, and some also kept by the Reformers for their own use. That the said library being thus deprived of its furniture was employed, as the schools were, for infamous uses. That in laying waste in that manner, and not in a possibility (as the academians thought) of restoring it to its former estate, they ordered certain persons in a Convocation (Reg. I. fol. 157ª) held Jan. 25, 1555-56 to sell the benches and desks therein; so that being stript stark naked (as I may say) continued so till Bodley restored it.”[393] The only cheerful reference to this period is that by Wood, who tells us some friendly people bought in a number of the manuscripts, and ultimately handed them over to the University after the library’s restoration.[394] But of all the books given by the Duke of Gloucester only three are now in the Bodleian, and only three others in Corpus Christi, Oriel, and Magdalen. The British Museum possesses nine; Cambridge one; private collectors two. Six are in France: two Latin—both Oxford books—and three French manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale, and one manuscript at the Bibliothèque Ste. Geneviève. The Ste. Geneviève book[395] is a magnificent Livy, once belonging to the famous Louvre Library. It bears the inscription: “Cest livre est à moy Homfrey, duc de Gloucestre, du don mon très chier cousin le conte de Warewic.”[396]

CHAPTER VII

ACADEMIC LIBRARIES: CAMBRIDGE

AS the libraries of Cambridge were mostly of later foundation than those at Oxford, and as the collections were of the same character, it is less necessary to describe them in detail, especially after having dealt fully with the collections of the sister university. Cambridge University does not seem to have owned books in common until the first quarter of the fifteenth century. Before that, in 1384, the books intended for use in the University were submitted to the Chancellor and Doctors, so that any containing heretical and objectionable opinions could be weeded out and burnt. In 1408-9 it was ordered that books suspected to contain Lollard doctrines should be examined by the authorities of both Universities; if approved by them and by the Archbishop of Canterbury, they could be delivered to the stationers for copying, but not before. And in 1480 keepers of chests were forbidden to receive as a pledge any book written on paper.[397] Certain regulations were also made with regard to the status of stationers and others engaged in book-making in the town. But there seems to have been no common library.

About the time when Gloucester made his first gift of books to Oxford University a public library was possibly “founded” by John Croucher, who gave a copy of Chaucer’s translation of Boëthius’ De Consolatione philosophiae. Richard Holme, Warden of King’s Hall, who died in 1424, gave sixteen volumes. At this time the collection amounted to seventy-six volumes. Robert Fitzhugh, Bishop of London, now left two books, a Textus moralis philosophiae and Codeton Super quatuor libros Sententiarum (1435-6). By 1435 or 1440 it had increased to one hundred and twenty-two books: theology accounting for sixty-nine, natural and moral philosophy for seventeen, canon law for twenty-three, medicine for five, grammar for six, and logic and sophistry for one each. Besides Holme’s books there were in this library eight books given by John Aylemer, six given by Thomas Paxton, ten by James Matissale, five each by John Preston, John Water, Robert Alne (1440),[398] and John Tesdale: other benefactors gave one or two or three.[399]

In 1423 one John Herrys or Harris gave ten pounds for the library, possibly for a building, as books do not seem to have been bought with it.[400] A common library is mentioned in 1438.[401] In the same year a grant was made by the king of the manor of Ruyslip and a place called Northwood for a library. The first room was erected between this year and 1457. After 1454 many entries occur in the University accounts for the roof of the new chapel and the library, for the general repairs of the same buildings, for the chaining and binding of books, and for their custody during a fire in the King’s College in 1457.[402] A sketch of the Schools quadrangle drawn about 1459 shows this library, libraria nova, above the Canon Law schools, on the west side.[403] Between the completion of this library

and 1470 the south side of the quadrangle was built, the school of civil law occupying the ground floor, and the Great Library or Common Library the first floor. The second extant catalogue of books (1473) relates to the books in this room: possibly the west room had been cleared for other purposes. Now the inventory proves the library to have been in possession of three hundred and thirty volumes, stored upon eight stalls or desks on the north side and upon nine stalls on the southern side, facing King’s College Chapel.[404] But in a few years the buildings were extended and the collection augmented munificently by Thomas Rotherham or Scot, then Chancellor of the University and Bishop of Lincoln, afterwards Archbishop of York. Rotherham completed the building begun on the east side of the quadrangle by erecting the library which occupies the whole of the first floor (1470-75). In this libraria domini cancellarii his own books were stored. His generosity was recognised by the University in the fullest possible manner; special care was taken of his books, and his library came to be known as the private library, to which only a few privileged persons were admitted, while the great library remained in use as the public room.[405]

The learned Bishop Tunstall gave some Greek books to the library in 1529, just before he was translated to the see of Durham. Even then, however, the collection was on the down grade. Nine years later, owing to a decline in numbers at the University and a loss of revenue, some of the books, described as “useless,” were sold.[406] Then again, in 1547, occurs a more significant notice. A Grace was passed recommending the conversion of the great or common library into a school for the Regius Professor of Divinity, because “in its present state it is no use to anybody.”[407] Neglect and worse had laid this part of the library as waste as Duke Humfrey’s room at Oxford. Apparently then only the Chancellor’s library remained. More “old” books were removed from the collection in 1572-3. In this same year a catalogue was drawn up. Only one hundred and seventy-seven volumes were left: “moste parte of all theis bookes be of velam and parchment, but very sore cut and mangled for the lymned letters and pictures.”[408] Clearly sad havoc had been played with this library, which had started with so much promise.

§ II

The earliest collegiate libraries were Peterhouse, Pembroke Hall, Clare Hall, Trinity Hall, and Gonville. Peterhouse had the first library in Cambridge. Hugh of Balsham, Bishop of Ely, introduced into an Augustinian Hospital at Cambridge a number of scholars who were to live with the brethren. Before Hugh died the brethren and the scholars quarrelled, and the latter were removed to two hostels on the site of the present college (1281-84). He did not forget to provide his new foundation with books, among other properties. In the statutes of 1344 are stringent provisions for the care of books, which prove that the society had a library worthy of some thought. Clare College was founded by the University as University Hall (1326), then refounded twelve years later by Lady Elizabeth de Clare as Clare Hall. In 1355 she bequeathed a few books. Pembroke College, founded in 1346, received a gift of ten books from the first Master, William Styband. The statutes of Trinity Hall, which was founded by Bishop William Bateman in 1350, partly to repair the losses of scholarly clergy during the Black Death, also contain a special section relating to the college books. It was not drawn up in anticipation of the formation of a library, for the founder himself gave seventy volumes on civil and canon law and theology, besides fourteen books for the chapel; forty-eight, including seven chapel books, were reserved for the Bishop’s own use during his life.[409] To Gonville College, founded as the Hall of the Annunciation in 1348, Archdeacon Stephen Scrope left a Catholicon in 1418.[410] King’s Hall, later absorbed in Trinity College, some sixty years after its foundation, possessed a library of eighty-seven volumes (1394). Gifts of books were made to Corpus Christi College soon after its foundation in 1352, but a library is not referred to in the old statutes. Thomas de Eltisle, the first Master, gave several books, among them a very fine missal, “most excellently annotated throughout all the offices, and bound with a cover of white deer leather, and with red clasps.” At this time (1376) we find an inventory showing that the contents of the library were chiefly theological and law books.

The intention of King Henry VI was to make the library of King’s College and that of Eton very good. In his great plan for the former, which was never carried out, Henry proposed to have in the west side of the court, “atte the ende toward the chirch,” “a librarie, conteynyng in lengthe .cx. fete, and in brede .xxiiij. fete, and under hit a large hous for redyng and disputacions, conteynyng in lengthe .xl. fete, and .ij. chambres under the same librarie, euery conteynyng .xxix. fete in lengthe and in brede .xxiiij. fete.”[411] But an apartment was set aside for books, and, as a charge was incurred for strewing it with rushes in expectation of a visit from the king, it was evidently a repository worth seeing.[412] Early in 1445 the king sent Richard Chester, sometime his envoy at the Papal court, to France and other countries, and to certain parts of England, in search of books and relics for his foundations. Within two years, however, a joint petition came from Eton and King’s College, stating that neither of these colleges “nowe late fownded and newe growyng” “were sufficiently supplied with books for divine service and for their libraries and studies, or with vestments and ornaments, ‘whiche thinges may not be had withoute great and diligente labour be longe processe and right besy inquisicion.’ They therefore begged that the king would order Chester to ‘take to hym suche men as shall be seen to hym expedient and profitable, and in especiall John Pye,’ the King’s ‘stacioner of London, and other suche as ben connyng and have undirstonding in such matiers,’ charging them all ‘to laboure effectually, inquere and diligently inserche in all place that ben under’ the King’s ‘obeysaunce, to gete knowleche where suche bokes, onourmentes, and other necessaries for’ the ‘saide colleges may be founden to selle.’ They were anxious that Richard Chester should have authority ‘to bye, take, and receive alle suche goodes afore eny other man ... satisfying to the owners of suche godes suche pris as thei may resonably accorde and agree. Soo that he may have the ferste choise of alle suche goodes afore eny other man, and in especiall of all maner bokes, ornementes, and other necessaries as nowe late were perteyning to the Duke of Gloucestre.’ ”[413] At King’s College many charges were incurred for books a year later, in 1448. By 1452 this foundation had 174 or 175 books, on philosophy, theology, medicine, astrology, mathematics, canon law, grammar, and in classical literature.[414] The only volume now remaining of this collection once belonged to Duke Humfrey, and as the list contains a fair number of classical books—Aristotle, Liber policie Platonis, Tullius in noua rethorica, Seneca, Sallust, Ovid, Julius Cæsar, Plutarch—besides a book of Poggio Bracciolini, it seems likely that King’s College, and perhaps Eton, received some of the books promised by the Duke to Oxford University and begged for repeatedly and in vain by that University, after his death.[415]

Likewise at Eton—which may be referred to appropriately here—the king desired to have a good library. “Item the Est pane in lengthe within the walles .ccxxx. fete in the myddel whereof directly agayns the entre of the cloistre a librarie conteynyng in lengthe .lij. fete and in brede .xxiiij. fete with .iij. chambres aboue on the oon side and .iiij. on the other side and benethe .ix. chambres euery of them in lengthe .xxvj. fete and in brede .xviij. fete with .v. utter toures and .v. ynner toures.”[416]

A library room is referred to in 1445 or 1446; then “floryshid” glass was bought for the windows of it.[417] In 1484-85 it is again mentioned in connexion with repairs. A year later a lock and twelve keys for the library were paid for.[418] Then in 1517, we are told, “the fyrst stone was layd yn the fundacyon off the weste parte off the College, whereon ys bylded Mr. Provost’s logyn, the Gate, and the Lyberary.”[419] It would seem that these several references are to the vestry of the Chapel, in which the books were first kept, and then to the Election Hall, to which they were subsequently removed.[420] Henry VI seems to have given £200 “for to purvey them books to the pleasure of God.”[421]

St. Catharine’s Hall, founded in 1473-75, in a few years enjoyed the use of 104 volumes, of which 85 were given by the founder, Dr. Robert Wodelarke. At Queens’ College a library was included in the first buildings; and some twenty-five years after the foundation in 1448, no fewer than 224 volumes were on the desks.[422]

As at Oxford, these collections were augmented by the gifts of generous friends and loyal scholars. Peterhouse had many friends. Thomas Lisle, Bishop of Ely, gave a large Bible (1300).[423] In 1418 a welcome gift came from a former Master, John de Newton, who had reserved some theological books, Seneca, Valerius Maximus, and other books for his old house. At this time Peterhouse had 380 volumes: at Oxford the University library was no larger, although it was possibly richer, and in numbers only the library of New College can have beaten it. Sir Thomas Beaufort, Duke of Exeter, bequeathed a volume of sermons in 1427.[424] Later Dr. Thomas Lane gave some good books (1450). Then Dr. Roger Marshall presented a large number of volumes, some of which were to be placed in libraria secretiori, and in chains, if the Master and Fellows thought fit, while the remainder were to be chained in apertiori libraria, where they could not be borrowed, but were easily accessible (1472): this benefactor evidently fully appreciated Peterhouse’s division of its library into reference and lending sections. Less than a decade later Dr. John Warkworth, the Master, presented fifty-five manuscripts, among which was his own Chronicle. “Among the gifts made to the library in the fifteenth century are one or two which raise curious questions. One book comes from Bury and has the Bury mark. Another belonged to the canons of Hereford; another to Worcester; another to Durham (it is still identifiable in the Durham catalogue of 1391); and there are other instances of the kind. Such a phenomenon makes one very anxious to know how freely and under what conditions collegiate and monastic bodies were in the habit of parting with their books during the time before the Dissolution. Was there not very probably an extensive system of sale of duplicates? I prefer this notion,” writes Dr. James, “to the idea that they got rid of their books indiscriminately, because the study of monastic catalogues shows quite plainly that the number of duplicates in any considerable library was very large. On the other hand, it is clear that books often got out of the old libraries into the hands of quite unauthorised persons: so that there was probably both fair and foul play in this matter.”[425] To Pembroke College came gifts from successive Masters and from friends between the date of foundation and the year 1484, when the College had received 158 volumes in this way.[426] One of the donors was Rotherham, the great friend of the public library. During the same period a number of books were also purchased. Corpus Christi received a like series of donations. The third Master, John Kynne, gave a Bible, which he had “bought at Northampton at the time (1380) when the Parliament was there, for the purpose of reading therefrom in the Hall at the time of dinner.” The fifth and sixth Masters, Drs. Billingford and Tytleshale, were benefactors to the library; and during the latter’s mastership one of the fellows, Thomas Markaunt the antiquary, bequeathed seventy-six volumes, then valued at over £100 (1439).[427] Later Dr. Cosyn presented books; and Dr. Nobys, the twelfth Master, left a large number of volumes, which were chained in the library.

A vicar of St. Mary’s, Nottingham, named John Hurte, gave books to several colleges—to Clare Hall seven books, including Guido delle Colonne’s Troy book, Ptolemy in Quadripartito; to the College of God’s House, afterwards absorbed in Christ’s College, Egidius and a Doctrinale; to King’s College Isaac de Urinis; to the University Library three books; as well as an astronomical work to Gotham Chest (1476).[428]

At Peterhouse in 1414 special provision was being made for the books in a long room on the first floor. The workman employed on the job was to receive, in addition to his wages, a gown if the College were pleased with his work. By 1431 a new library was necessary, and a contract was entered into for building it. Sixteen years later the work had so progressed that desks were being made. In 1450 the old desks were broken up, and locks and keys were bought for sixteen new cases. This library was on the west side of the quadrangle. A library for Clare Hall was built between 1420 and 1430. A little before this a new library was begun for King’s Hall, probably to replace a smaller room. For the books of Pembroke College a storey was added to the Hall about 1452. The early collection of Gonville Hall was kept in a strong-room; then in 1441 a special room was included in the buildings on the west side of the quadrangle. At Trinity Hall the books were stored in a room over the passage from one court to the other and at the east end of the chapel, and here they remained until after the Reformation. The early library room of Corpus Christi was in the Old Court, on the first floor next to the Master’s lodge. In Queens’, St. Catharine’s, Jesus, Christ’s, St. John’s and Magdalene a library formed a part of the original quadrangle.[429]

CHAPTER VIII

ACADEMIC LIBRARIES: THEIR ECONOMY

HERE it will be convenient to give some account of the regulations for the use of books in colleges, both at Oxford and Cambridge. The University libraries were for reference: the College libraries were for both reference and lending use, and the regulations are therefore different in essentials. By the statutes of University College (1292) one book of every kind that the college had was to be put in some common and safe place, so that the Fellows, and others with the consent of the Fellows, might have the use of it. Sometimes, especially in the colleges of early foundation, this common collection was kept in chests; usually the books were securely chained to desks. The common books were chained at New College (statutes, 1400) and at Lincoln College (1429). At Peterhouse, soon after 1418, some 220 volumes were preserved for reference, and 160 were distributed among the Fellows.[430] At All Souls College a number of books selected by the warden, vice-wardens, and deans, were chained, together with the books given on the express condition that they should be chained (statutes, 1443). This collection, then, was the college reference library; corresponding with the common aumbry of the monastery, but also indicative of the principle of all library organisation that, while it is desirable to lend books, it is also necessary to keep a number of them all together in one fixed place for reference.

The libri distribuendi, or books for lending, were the special feature of the college library. At Merton the books were distributed by the warden and sub-warden under an adequate pledge (1276). Once a year, after the books had been inspected, each Fellow of Oriel could select a book on the subject he was reading up, and could keep it, if he chose, until the next distribution a year later, while if there were more books than Fellows, those over could be selected in the same way (statutes, 1329). At Peterhouse, the Senior Dean distributed the books to scholars in the manner he saw fit; later it was ruled that all the books not chained might be circulated once every two years on a day to be fixed by the Master and Senior Dean (statutes, 1344, 1480). At New College students in civil and canon law could have two books for their special use during the time they devoted themselves to those faculties, if they did not own the books themselves. If books remained over, after this distribution, they were to be distributed annually in the usual way (statutes, 1400). Similarly the books were circulated at All Souls (statutes, 1443), at Magdalen (1459), at Exeter[431] and at Queen’s. At Lincoln College bachelors could only have logical and philosophical books distributed to them, and not theology (statutes, 1429).

The procedure was the same as at the annual claustral distribution. Although these regulations suggest restrictions and little else, the students were as a rule fairly well provided with books. Even if they did not own a single volume of their own, they had the use of the public library of the University, and of the college common library. It is true the distribution or electio librorum took place only once or twice a year, and then a student got only a few volumes. Yet we should not assume that he was obliged to confine his attention to this small dole alone, for it is but reasonable to suppose he could exchange his books with those selected by another student. The electio librorum was a method of securing the safety of the books by distributing the responsibility for making good losses equally over the whole community. In the case of University College an Opponent in theology, a teacher of the Sentences, and a Regent who also taught, had the right to borrow freely any book he wanted if he would restore it, when he had done with it, to the Fellow who had chosen it at the distribution (statutes, 1292).

A register of loans was carefully maintained. The Fellows of All Souls were required to have a small indenture drawn up for each book borrowed, and such indenture was to be left with the warden or the vice-warden (statutes, 1443). At Pembroke College, Cambridge, the librarian or keeper was to prepare large tablets covered with wax and parchment: on the latter were to be written the titles of books, on the former the names of the borrowers; when each book was returned, the borrower’s name was pressed out. This was a monastic practice. Such records, even if trifling, were in turn the subject of an indenture if they were transferred from one person to another.[432]

The rules drawn up to prevent loss were as stringent for college as for monastic libraries. No Fellow of University College could take away, sell, or pawn books belonging to his house without the consent of all the fellows (statutes, 1292). At Peterhouse scholars were bound by oath to similar effect (statutes, 1344). A statute of Magdalen is most insistent—a book could not be alienated, under any excuse whatever, nor lent outside the college, nor could it be lent in quires for copying to a member of the College or a stranger, either in the Hall or out of it, nor could it be taken out of the town, or even out of the Hall, either whole or in sheets, by the Master or any one else, but to the schools it could be taken when necessary and on condition that it was brought back to the college before nightfall (1459). A like injunction was given at Pembroke College, Cambridge, and Brasenose College.

Lending outside a college was unusual, but was sometimes allowed, as in monasteries, under indenture, and upon deposit of a pledge of greater value than the book lent, and with the general consent of Fellows (University College statutes, 1292; All Souls statutes, 1443). Every book belonging to University College had a high value set upon it, so that a borrower should not be careless in his use of it (statutes, 1292); and at Peterhouse the Master and two Deans were expected to set a value upon the books (special statute, 1480). Punishment for default was severe. Any Fellow of Oriel neglecting or refusing to restore his books, or to pay the value set upon them, forfeited his right of selecting for another year, and if he failed to make good the loss before the following Christmas, he was no longer a Fellow—eo facto non socius ibidem existat (1441). If a Fellow of Peterhouse did not produce his book at the fresh selection, or appoint a deputy to bring it, he was liable to be put out of commons until he restored it (statute, 1480).

Equal care was taken of the books which were not circulated. At Merton they were to be kept under three locks (1276). The deeds, books, muniments, and money of Stapeldon Hall or Exeter College were kept in a chest, of which one key was in the hands of the Rector, another of the Senior Scholar, and a third of the Chaplain (statutes, 1316). Three different locks, two large and one small, were used to secure the library door of New College: the Senior Dean and the Senior Bursar had the keys of the large locks, and each Fellow had a key of the small lock; all three locks were to be secured at night (statutes, 1400). An indenture was drawn up of all the books, charters, and muniments of Peterhouse in the presence of the greater number of the scholars: all the books were named and classified according to faculty. One part of the indenture was retained by the Master, the other part by the Deans. All these books and records were preserved in chests, each of which had two keys, one in the care of the Master, the other in the hands of the Senior Dean (statutes, 1344). Books being regarded as an inestimable treasure, which ought to be most religiously guarded, they could not be taken from Peterhouse, if chained up, except with the consent of the Master and all the Fellows in residence, who must be a majority of the whole Society; and books given on condition of being chained were not to be removed under any pretext, excepting only for repair. Even libri distribuendi were not to be without the college at night, except by permission of the Master or a Dean, and then they could not be retained for six months in succession (statute, 1480).

To detect missing books stock was taken, usually once a year: again, as in the monasteries. Once a year on a fixed day the books of Oriel were to be brought out and displayed for inspection before the Provost or his deputy and all the Fellows (statutes, 1329). The same ceremony took place at Trinity Hall twice a year; the books were to be laid out one by one, so that they could be seen by everybody (statutes, 1350); at Peterhouse the inspection was held only once in two years (statute, 1480). At All Souls an inspection was held (statutes, 1443); at the Pembroke College inspection each book was exhibited in order to the Masters and Fellows. At Magdalen, as elsewhere, the inspection was thorough: the books were to be shown realiter, visibiliter, et distincte.

The above rules embody the common practice of the colleges. Certain houses had unusual provisions. Every Fellow of Magdalen College was to close the book he had been reading before he left, and also shut the windows (statutes, 1459). With the beginning of the sixteenth century comes a faint hint of discrimination in selecting books. No book was to be brought into the library of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, or chained there, if it were not of sufficient worth and importance (nisi sit competentis pretii aut utilitas) (unless it had been given with specific direction that it should be chained), but it was to go among the books for lending (statutes, 1517).[433]

In certain of the colleges a book was read aloud during meals. It is noted that in 1284 the scholars of Merton were so noisy that the person appointed to read from Gregory’s Moralia could not be properly heard.[434] Reading aloud was also enjoined at University Hall, Oxford.[435] This was, of course, a monastic practice.

This brief description of the practice of the colleges in regard to books may be concluded fittingly with an account of the rules which Richard de Bury proposed to apply for the safety of his library when reposed within the walls of Durham Hall. These provisions are specially interesting as an example of the care with which a fussy bookworm