CHAPTER IX.
THE ORNAMENTATION OF LEATHER BOOKBINDINGS WITH GOLD.

Gold tooling in leather introduced from the East to Venice—Early Italian gold tooled work—The spread of gold tooling in Europe—Modern work—Gold tooling in leather—Early Venetian gold tooled bindings—The work of Thos. Berthelet, John Day, John Gibson, Mary Collet, Samuel Mearne, Suckerman, Eliot and Chapman, Roger Payne, Richard Wier, Charles Hering, Kalthœber, Staggemeier, Walther, Charles Lewis, T. J. Cobden Sanderson, Sir Edw. Sullivan, Douglas Cockerell, E. M. MacColl, S. Prideaux, Adams, Etienne Roffet, Geoffrey Tory, Nicholas and Clovis Eve, Le Gascon, Florimond Badier, Macé Ruette, L. A. Boyet, Padeloup le Jeune, J. Le Monnier, Derome le Jeune, Capé, Duru, Thouvenin, Bauzonnet, Trautz, Lortic.

The art of gold tooling on leather appears to have been known in Eastern countries before it was known in the West. There are signs of it in Saracenic work of the early fifteenth century, but it cannot be quite certain whether much of this work was not simply painted with gold. If a blind line is carefully painted with gold shell and then burnished with a fine agate, a gilded line can be made that looks nearly as well as a properly gold tooled line. No doubt a considerable proportion of early gold tooling was done in this way, and some of it was not even burnished.

Some early Venetian bindings show gold spaces gilded with gold leaf in a very effective way, and in the Bodleian some English panel stamps of the early sixteenth century are gilded all over.

There is little doubt that gold tooling, done as it is now, was known to the Venetians towards the end of the fifteenth century. It is a curious art, and depends for its wonderful strength upon the fact that albumen hardens with heat. The method used is simple: a stamp is impressed in blind on the leather, and then the impression is painted over with glaire of egg—albumen. When the albumen is dry it is again painted over with palm oil or cocoa-nut oil, and on this a piece of gold leaf is laid. The stamp is now heated, and when it is of the proper temperature it is very carefully reimpressed in exactly the same place as at first.

The heat of the stamp congeals the albumen under the gold, and the now gilded impression is likely enough to be the strongest part of the leather. I have often found old leather bindings badly worn away, but the gold tooled work and lettering still remaining in places. Thus, instead of being impressed, as it originally was, it is all in relief, because the albumen has soaked into the leather a little and then been hardened, so that instead of gilded hollows we find little mountains with golden tops.

But to counterbalance this possible advantage, the albumen presents a weak point. On an old gold tooled binding it is not uncommon to find that a golden curve is partly gone; half of it perhaps shows no longer as a thin gold line, but only as a shallow trench, hollowed out of the leather. The meaning of this is that the albumen provides a nourishing meal for some small grub, which, once it gets the trail, will follow it, if not disturbed half over the book, and with wonderful accuracy will eat away gold, albumen, and a little leather, following curves, leaves, and letterings with close fidelity.

This particular damage is most liable to occur in instances where books are laid down in show cases on cloth or velvet and not often moved. The soft groundwork allows the grub more freedom than if the book is standing up closely packed with others on a shelf.

The small gilt roundels found on early Persian and Arabic bindings as well as on early Venetian work, were set with some sort of gesso under the gold.

The trade of Venice with the East brought these matters of ornamented leather to the notice of Venetian bookbinders, and these, men of consummate taste, at once saw the possibilities of the new art. Indeed, the Italian gold tooled bindings of the late fourteenth century are the finest that have ever yet been made, even though many of them are quite Oriental in feeling and others very strongly so. But the Venetians soon crept away from the Eastern trammels and evolved beautiful styles of their own. One of the first of these styles was the careful mingling of blind tooled lines with gilded lines; another was the use of small gilded roundels—themselves an Oriental idea—in connection with blind tooling and blind tooling coloured by hand.

Then at an early date the Italians hit upon the effective use of so-called “cameo” stamps. These were sometimes cut on a flat piece of metal, as the “Canevari” stamps are, and sometimes on a bossed piece of metal, as the Alexander and Cæsar are. When on the binding these stamps show as a depression with the design in relief within it.

Many of the smaller stamps of this period are worthy of notice. There is the “Arabic” knot, used on Aldine binding and derived from an Oriental original from basket work, as many of the early stamps are, the Florentine leaf and the Aldine dolphin.

Then there is no doubt that many of the finest of the bindings made for Jean Grolier were Italian. Who designed them and who bound them we do not know, but among the earlier examples there is no doubt that splendid work can be found. They may have been done in the workshop of Aldus Manutius, but it rather seems that the designs were made by one man, and I think it is not unlikely that Grolier himself may have always given the general idea of the decoration he wanted.

The later bindings made for Grolier are curiously inferior, and sometimes in calf. The earlier and finer bindings are in morocco, which is sometimes marbled. The words “Grolierii et Amicorum” are always put upon such bindings as were made for him, and the legend “Portio mea domine sit in terra viventium” also generally appears in the centre of one or other of the boards.

Whenever Grolier acquired a book which was already very finely bound he added his autograph either on the flyleaf at the beginning or at the end. Grolier was the first collector to have his books bound in a particular way for himself.

“Grolier” bindings have been very freely imitated, especially by a native of Bologna, who worked a good deal for Count Guglielmo Libri, a great collector, and unfortunately the style lends itself well to imitation. A fraudulent finisher looks out for an old Italian book of the right date, bound in plain leather. Then he copies parts from one or other of the many Groliers which can be seen and studied by any Londoner or Parisian for the asking, and if he is fairly clever at his trade it will take a very skilled expert to detect the fraud. Many such imitations are about, and every day they become more like genuine examples.

The styles of binding that have been most largely and successfully imitated are those made for Jean Grolier, Henri II. and of his period, and the so-called “Canevari” bindings.

From Italy the art of gold tooling rapidly spread through Europe, and took hold particularly in England and France. There is no doubt that an Italian gilder came to England and taught Thomas Berthelet, binder and printer to Henry VIII. Not only are numbers of Berthelet’s stamps of distinctly Italian character, but in many of his lists of books he describes particular examples as being bound “after the Italian fascion.” But Berthelet quickly enough evolved a style of his own. It appears to me that English binders have from the time of Berthelet until now succeeded better than those of any other nation in the ornamentation of large books. In small books the palm must be given to Italian and French binders, but large books have always puzzled the best of these, and even Le Gascon has not been successful with them.

Many of the large books bound by Thomas Berthelet are as fine as any such books can be. His best work was, naturally enough, done for royalty, but he set the fashion for smaller binders, and although there is a want of minute finish and technical accuracy in everything he did, Berthelet’s fine work will always give him a place in the first rank of bookbinders of this or any other country.

After Berthelet’s time gold tooling became general in England, but the binders who used it are anonymous. There are some fine calf bindings with inlays of white leather which were made in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, on which appear the initials I. D. P., perhaps “John Day Pegit,” and which are credited to John Day, but it is by no means certain that they were done by that eminent printer. The style of leather bindings of Elizabeth’s reign departed finally from that of Berthelet, and more variety is found than at any other period. The Oriental fashion of double boards was re-introduced, the centre panels being filled with delicate paintings, portraits or coat-of-arms, and the remainder of the boards variously ornamented with inlays of white leather, toolings in gold and silver, and impressions from stamps cut in arabesques. Some of these bindings are coloured, that is to say, the arabesques, curves or flowers are painted by hand with some kind of enamel paint. The main source of such coloured bindings was Lyons, from which centre numbers of them were issued, but the fashion was one which appealed to the English liking for colour, and many fine examples, often heraldic, were made here. In royal bindings at all times heraldry has played an important part, but from the middle of the sixteenth century onwards it plays an equally important part on bindings made for ordinary armigerous people.

Letterings often appear on the sides of bindings of the Tudor period, mottoes, initials and names. Towards the end of the sixteenth century a few bindings are found on which are semis of triple dots. This is the beginning of the style which reached its ultimate form in the next century. Also small triangular corner stamps occur now and then. These also developed and eventually became one of the most characteristic marks of Jacobean bindings.

When James VI. of Scotland came here as our James I. he may have brought with him John Gibson, who was his binder in Scotland. Lists of books bound by this binder still exist, but no book or binding mentioned by him has so far been identified. But there are some remarkable books among those which were certainly bound for James I. which are not like the general type of his bindings, and it is likely enough that these may be Gibson’s work. The style is a very fine one, and the workmanship strong and good, but not, in my opinion, correct enough to have been done by a foreign binder. The same binder did some of the re-binding for Henry Prince of Wales, and one of its characteristics is a dotted fillet of double lines.

It is probable that many of the richer bindings of the early seventeenth century were the work of John and Abraham Bateman, the king’s printers and binders, but, in spite of lists, this is again only speculation. There is no doubt that about this time many bindings were made which would now be called trade bindings as apart from art bindings. Trade bindings often enough follow art bindings at a respectable distance, and they are rarely made on original lines.

Following the lead given by some of the later Elizabethan bindings, we find from about 1603 to 1625 a considerable output of very showy bindings, with elaborate semis or powderings of small stamps all over the groundwork, very large and over-elaborated corner stamps and centres of arabesque or heraldic motives.

Students of English royal bindings must note that with the coming of James I. to the English throne, a great change was made in the English coat-of-arms. The coat which had been used from the time of Edward III., namely, France and England quarterly, was now used as a quartering only, and shows in the first and fourth quarters. In the second quarter we find the ancient coat of Scotland, or, a lion rampant within a double tressure flory counterflory gu., and in the third quarter comes the coat of Ireland, az., the harp of Apollo Grian, stringed ar, or., given, it is supposed, by Henry VIII. as a mark of admiration for the musical excellence of the Irish.

Also the late Tudor supporters of the lion and dragon give place to the familiar lion and unicorn. The unicorn is one of the ancient supporters of the Scottish coat. It is interesting to note in passing that the present official coat of Scotland is, first and fourth Scotland, second England, and third Ireland, with two unicorns as supporters. It appears on Scottish official bindings. The interpretation of this is of course that England and Ireland are appanages of Scotland.

But even if it is now correct to dissociate the arms of England and Scotland, we must not forget the heraldic marriage between the two countries which took place in 1706, on which auspicious occasion the two coats were impaled as one. That is to say, they were treated in the same way as the coats of married people.

The semis, with large corners, is a manner which has lasted a long time, but it is not a great style; it is, however, one which has been largely followed in the case of trade bindings. In this manner a very rich and brilliant effect can be produced with a minimum of real design and of technical skill. The centres of such bindings, if not simply coats-of-arms, are always of oval outline, but at Little Gidding the irregular Jacobean corners and oval centres turned into circular centres and quarter-circle corners. The gold tooled leather bindings made at Little Gidding followed closely in detail those made by Thomas and John Buck, the Cambridge University printers, but in the main the bindings made by Mary Collet and her assistants were original. In the matter of semis also the Little Gidding bindings show a pleasant departure from the quite regular arrangements aimed at by Jacobean binders.

After 1625 the series and corners tended gradually to fall into abeyance, and although they did not altogether disappear, they were each modified. Corner pieces became smaller in proportion, and the semis more artistically irregular.

Towards the end of the reign of Charles I. some unknown binder, probably Samuel Mearne, had the hardihood for the first time to bind royal books without any ornamentation on the boards except a coat-of-arms. The red leather, goat skin, used on these bindings is of extremely fine colour and quality. Simplicity in ornamentation of bookbindings is usually accompanied by fine leather, and at no time has this been more noticeable than in the case of Mearne’s simpler work.

The political troubles of the later half of the seventeenth century may of themselves have tended to incline bookbinders to simplify their work, and so also may the Puritan spirit of the time. State bindings of the time are studiously simple, and bear upon them a device with shields, showing the English cross of St. George and the harp of Ireland side by side, impressed upon black leather.

But there were other very decorative small bindings being produced in considerable numbers about this period. Whether these also owed their existence to Samuel Mearne is still uncertain, but he was, I expect, a moving spirit in the matter of fine bookbindings from the end of the reign of Charles I. to the end of the reign of Charles II. The little books I allude to were made during the latter half of the seventeenth century and are always bound in black morocco. They have inlays of red, yellow, and white leather upon them and some very well designed gold tooling. Many of the designs are in detail similar to those which were certainly used at a later time by Samuel Mearne. John Bagford, in a curious account of book binding written early in the eighteenth century, mentions a workman named Suckerman, who was “one of the best workmen that ever took tool in hand, and commonly worked for Mr. Merne the Binder to King Charles the 2.”

It is quite possible that much of the finest English work of this period was done by this man, but I expect he was only a workman, and executed the designs made out for him by a skilled designer—possibly enough Mearne himself.

Samuel Mearne was appointed royal binder to Charles II., and he was the second great binder in England. Mearne bound the majority of his books in the same beautiful red leather that I have already mentioned as being used for some late bindings belonging to Charles I., and the same coat-of-arms occurs on some of those bound for Charles II. This red leather was probably dyed with cochineal. Before this no red leather was used to any extent in England. Brown, olive, blue, and black were all common, but not red. The ordinary bindings made by Mearne for Charles II. were simply and tastefully ornamented with rectangular lines having the royal initials at the corners, but others are more elaborate.

We owe a national design to Mearne’s inventive genius, and it is known as the “Cottage” style. The gold-lined parallelogram is the starting point, and the upper and lower lines are broken outwards into a gable form. From this starting point Mearne developed his further decoration with supreme success, until indeed he succeeded in producing some of the finest bindings for large books that have ever been made. Not only that, Mearne’s style and even the details of his stamps continue until the present time, and the Bible on which King Edward VII. took the coronation oath was bound in the Cottage style. No style has ever lasted so long, not only in England, but in any other country.

There was yet another beautiful style invented by Mearne. It is not so real a design as the Cottage, as it partakes to some extent of the principle of the semis, inasmuch as symmetrical repetition is an integral part of it. There is no doubt that Mearne saw and admired the work of the great French contemporary binder Le Gascon, and from him he borrowed several ideas, among them that of the pointille or dotted stamps, and also that of the interlacing fillets with interstitial spaces filled with small gold tooling.

The radical change that Mearne made with regard to Le Gascon’s interlacing fillets was that he made them up by using successive impressions of a two-horned curve instead of a continuous fillet or ribbon. Although at first sight there would seem to be no connection between one of these “all over” bindings by Mearne and one of Le Gascon’s exquisite little interlacings, I think the connection is undoubted.

The all-over bindings, always small, are not uncommon; they are in black or red morocco, with colours interchanged, and are tooled in gold, with the very decorative addition of silver paint, water-colour, applied by hand here and there.

Eliot and Chapman did much excellent work in the eighteenth century and invented large ornamental borders for their bindings. These borders are not rolls, but the component parts are separately stamped. There is an excellent design with arches, a bird and a fly, and another with a globe, but all of them are admirably and effectively designed.

Except the work of Eliot and Chapman, the main English ornamentations on bookbindings during the eighteenth century were modifications of one or other of Mearne’s designs.

Eliot and Chapman bound largely for Robert Harley, first Earl of Oxford, and their broad bordered style is known as the “Harleian.” The centres, in the finest examples, are left unornamented, but there are numbers of examples, especially in later work, in which the centres are filled with a diamond-shaped mass of small gold toolings. Their style has been very largely copied.

Towards the end of the eighteenth century English binding received a remarkable stimulus by reason of the advent of Roger Payne, a native of Windsor, who set up in London as a bookbinder about 1770.

Payne’s two predecessors, Berthelet and Mearne, had both enjoyed Court positions, but Payne never did; he worked when he chose, and only then, and even if the brilliancy and genius shown of his work had ever been known to George III., it is doubtful whether so unreliable a man as Payne was could ever have been allowed to hold any responsible position.

The main charm of Payne’s work consists in the spare ornamentation of beautiful leather with exquisitely designed and cut stamps. These stamps are said to have been cut by himself in iron, but most of them were certainly of brass. One of Payne’s stamps only is specially cut so as to be capable of being used in combination; it is a little sprig of vine, and he used it not only by itself, but sometimes so as to make an entire vine oval on the side of a book. Payne was also the first great English binder to pay much attention to the inside of the boards of his bindings. His “Doublures,” as they are called, often show more elaborate work than exists outside the books. The masses of small stamps which occur on the borders of the fine doublures and in the corners of Payne’s bindings are arranged in parallel lines, but have little constructive arrangement. The brilliancy of Payne’s gold tooling has never been exceeded.

In his simpler bindings Payne used a deep soft purple end paper, usually lined with gold round the edge. The leather joint red or green is also often gilded, and shows a stitch or two of the silk thread which Payne always used. The headbands are small and rounded, of green silk, with sometimes a gold thread here and there.

The colours of Payne’s moroccos are deep blue, deep red, orange, deep olive, or pale sea-green. If other colours are found on bindings apparently by him, I should begin by suspecting the work is that of Richard Wier. His Russia leathers are always dull brown in colour, and diced. Payne lined his backs too thickly, and his books often open stiffly. This is not of much importance when the binding is morocco, but when Russia leather is used it causes it to break at the joints. Some of the designs in the back panels of Payne’s more decorative bindings are quite admirable. His moroccos are smooth or straight-grained, a method of treating the leather that he invented. Payne often added a manuscript note to his bound work and pasted it in the beginning. Several of these notes are of great interest, as they show the immense care and trouble he took to do the best he could in every case. They are also of the greatest value in showing that certain pieces of work are unquestionably from his own hand.

Richard Wier, a Scottish bookbinder, worked with Payne, and closely copied his style. Wier was fonder of blind tooling than Payne was, and they used the same stamps. Many of the bindings credited to Roger Payne are really by Wier, who, as well as Mrs. Wier, was a highly skilled mender of books.

Charles Hering founded his styles upon those of Payne, but soon evolved a manner of his own. He finished some books that Payne had left unfinished in the same style. Originals and copies are now in the Rylands Library at Manchester. Hering’s work is, however, only high class trade binding, as is that of his contemporary, C. Kalthœber. Both Hering’s and Kalthœber’s work is often signed, either in small gilt or blind lettering along the lower edge of one of the boards, or by an affixed ticket.

Kalthœber frankly copied Payne’s styles and stamps, but elaborated both so much that he quite lost sight of the characteristic simplicity of the great master. Kalthœber bound several books for George III., and many of them are decorative enough, and if they had not been such parodies of Payne’s work they would no doubt have taken high rank.

Staggemeier and Walther were both Germans, who worked much in the same manner as Kalthœber. They both signed their bindings.

Charles Lewis was very nearly a great binder, but I do not think he quite reached that level. He used flat double bands with gold tooling upon them, but these are frequently only shams, and are in company with hollow backs. After that his best work was borrowed; but his bindings are always pleasant to handle and admirably forwarded and finished. Lewis’ headbands are flat and upright, and generally sewn with green silk or red and green silk. He was fond of brilliant doublures, sometimes all gold, sometimes vellum edged with richly gilt morocco, and he was also fond of gilded edges richly tooled.

In the nineteenth century we have in England produced one binder who will probably in due time rank with the highest. The work of Mr. T. J. Cobden-Sanderson will bear comparison with the best work the past can show, either as to general design or beauty of detail. Most of the good art binding done now owes its inspiration to Mr. Cobden-Sanderson, and already many of his pupils and followers have achieved distinction for themselves; one of the best of these is Mr. Douglas Cockerell. The rare work done by Sir Edward Sullivan will also live. He is entirely original in his work and in his manner of decoration.

Lady bookbinders in England have also done excellent and beautiful work, particularly Miss E. M. MacColl, Miss Sarah Prideaux, and Miss N. E. Woolrich.

Professional work of high excellence has been done in recent years in England by Messrs. Bedford, Rivière, Zaehnsdorf, and Morell. The younger Zaehnsdorf, G. Sutcliffe, F. Sangorsky, Fazakerly of Liverpool, and A. De Santy are all reliable, and may be trusted to produce work not only technically perfect, but also charmingly finished and admirably designed.

Compared, however, to modern French professional bookbinding of the first rank, by Capé, Duru, Lortic, Bauzonnet, and the rest, I find that there is a certain heaviness in English forwarding—English binders have always liked heavy boards; but I think that in the matter of gold tooling our best modern finishers can hold their own safely.

Bookbinding has been more fostered and looked after in France than in any other country. As early as 1401 a guild of all persons concerned in book production was founded by charter from Charles VI., and continued, with some changes, until 1791.

The chief change in this guild took place in 1686, when the binding and gilding were treated as separate arts, as, indeed, they properly are. From the time of Francis I. until about 1633 we find that nearly all the Kings of France had official binders, and, as might be expected, the best French work is to be among their work, with the exception of that of Le Gascon, who, like our Roger Payne, was never favoured with Court patronage.

Heraldry plays a considerable part in English bookbinding, but not so remarkable a one as it does in French bookbinding. From royal books downwards, persons of distinction, ecclesiastics of all ranks, ladies and private persons, all liked to have their books ornamented with their coats-of-arms as a principal ornament.

Etienne Roffet was Royal binder to Francis I., but I do not feel sure that any binding of his is known. It may be, however, considered likely that he bound most of the books bearing the King’s crowned initials and his device of a salamander.

Several of Jean Grolier’s books were bound by French workmen. These are in the main designed on similar lines to those bound by Italians, but there is a difference in the details of the stamps used. One constant difference may be found in the fact that on the Italian books the small leaves and devices are solid, and on the French ones they are azured, or scored across with fine lines. Some of the French bound books have colour added on the fillets.

Geoffrey Tory lived well into the sixteenth century, and among other artistic productions he designed a special stamp for gilding his bindings with. Tory lost his only little daughter, and afterwards adopted as his device a broken vase, symbolic of his broken life. This vase is sometimes pierced by a “toret,” probably a play upon his own name, as he describes it: “ung vase antique qui est cassé par lequel passe ung toret.” The book stamps do not show the toret, but the vase is there. In the other ornamentation and on these Tory bindings is a strong Italian feeling. It is sure enough that the art of gold tooling reached France by way of Venice, just as it did England.

The most gorgeous period of French bookbinding was that of Henri II. and his children. Henri himself loved fine bindings, and so did Catherine de Medici, but unfortunately we do not know who executed them. They are in calf or morocco, and nearly always have coloured fillets. Those which were bound for Diane de Poictiers, Duchesse de Valentinois, are equally remarkable, and all of them have, as a rule, heraldic ornamentation. A fine portrait cameo stamp, however, of Henri II. appears as a centrepiece on some of his bindings, and the name Dianne appears on one of Diane’s now in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris.

The cyphers which appear on all these bindings are as a rule straightforward enough, being either those of Henri or his Queen Catherine, but among them is one which contains the initials H. and D. intertwined. This may mean “Henri Dauphin,” but it is usually interpreted as meaning “Henri” and “Diane.” I do not propose here to enter into the vexed question of this curious cypher, as it has already been fully discussed elsewhere,[1] but I may say that Henri’s own device before he succeeded to the throne was a crescent with the legend Nec impleat totem orbem. An unstrung bow as well as the other emblems of Diana the huntress undoubtedly appears on bindings made for this king. I am rather inclined to think that these devices of bow, crescents, and quiver, which show on the bindings made for Henri as well as on those made for Diane de Poictiers, may really have been separately chosen, and have no necessary connection with each other. On the bindings made for Diane de Poictiers the bow is strung.

Henri III. was an eccentric king, and it has been said that among other arts he learnt that of bookbinding. He lost his ladylove, and ever afterwards grieved her loss. His bindings show the device of the confraternity of the White Monks, to which order he belonged, and a skull and “Spes mea deus.” But besides these gloomy bindings we owe some of the finest bindings ever made in France to the art of Henri’s royal binder, Nicholas Eve.

The French order of St. Michel was founded by Louis XI., in 1466, in place of an older order “De l’Etoile,” which had been instituted by Jean II. Henri III., in 1578, founded a new order, the Saint Esprit, and among the State papers of the time is a note to the effect that Nicholas Eve bound forty-two copies of the Ordonnances de l’ordre du Sainct Esprit for the king. One of these books is now in the British Museum. It is bound, as described in the official note, in orange morocco, and agrees in all respects with that description.

A remarkable style, known as “à la Fanfare,” became common in France about the end of the sixteenth century. They are generally attributed to Clovis Eve, who was Relieur du Roy (1596), but there is really no authority for such attribution. The style is a beautiful one, and consists of interlaced fillets enclosing graceful sprays of laurel or palm, and arabesque curves. Some of the finest examples were bound for J. A. de Thou, the historian, and bear his arms, a chevron between three gadflies, as a centre ornament.

Most of De Thou’s books are bound in morocco, and among those which were made during the life of his second wife Gasparde de la Chastre are some that are curiously ornamented. They are bound in pale yellow morocco which has been stamped all over with impressions in black outline, probably from a wood block, in floral or conventional designs. The designs have afterwards been filled in by hand with colour stains, green, red and blue. The leather has been cut for the binding without any notice being taken of the coloured designs, which consequently appear irregularly on the finished work. The books are finished with gold lines and the arms of De Thou and La Chastre side by side.

It has been said that De Thou chose certain colours for certain subjects, for the bindings of his books, but although it may be so in some cases I do not think it is consistently carried out.

Certain colours have no doubt been chosen in some cases as distinctive of ownership, as for instance in the libraries of the three daughters of Louis XV., all of whom bore the same coat-of-arms. The books belonging to Madame Victoire were bound in olive, those of Madame Adelaide in red, and those of Madame Sophie in citron.

French bindings in morocco were sometimes stained with colour, especially about the time of Henri II., but colour on morocco is more generally added as a pigment.

In recent times some very decorative Spanish moroccos have been curiously stained with a sort of marbling. Large consignments of these coloured moroccos have been imported into this country, and they have been used especially by Mr. Roger De Coverly, one of our foremost bookbinders. The morocco is not of a very good quality, and it is too early to say whether the stains are harmful to the leather, as they probably would be if they were on calf.

Colour as indicating subject is usually given in the case of large libraries that do their own binding. Red commonly indicates history and art; blue, theology; green, agriculture and botany; and so on.

In the early seventeenth century the mysterious “Le Gascon” invented the “pointillé” or dotted style of gold tooling, which has been more universally copied than any other small peculiarity in book finishing.

Le Gascon was supreme in the binding of small books, whether ornamented with interlaced fillets, inlaid, or with the curious design of a swollen cross. Le Gascon’s small pointillé curves are most cleverly designed; two or three of them suffice to cover a considerable space with an apparently complicated design. The glittering effect of the small pointillé work massed together is heightened by the free addition of small golden dots wherever space can be found for them.

Red morocco was Le Gascon’s favourite groundwork, and on this he frequently set inlays of coloured morocco, citron, olive and marbled brown. These were mostly used in the case of bindings bearing a design of interlacing fillets, with gold tooling between them. No signed binding by Le Gascon is as yet known, but there are some bearing the name of Florimond Badier, who was son-in-law to Jean Gillède, which nearly resemble Le Gascon’s work, but lack his exquisite finish. On some of these appears a small dotted profile head, which is supposed to be a mark of Le Gascon’s. This same head is copied on some of the bindings of our English Samuel Mearne, who must therefore have seen and admired some of Le Gascon’s or Badier’s work. “Le Gascon” was probably Jean Gillède.

Macè Ruette followed many of Le Gascon’s manners, and his son Antoine did the same. These binders were royal binders to Louis XIII. and Louis XIV. respectively, and probably bound most of the fine bindings made for these kings, bearing their coats-of-arms.

The bindings made for the Baron de Longepierre are not uncommon. They were probably bound by Luc Antoine Boyet, royal binder to Louis XV. These little books bear upon them the device of a golden fleece, because the Baron wrote plays, and the only successful one was called “Medea” and dealt with the subject of the Argonauts. The bindings are all exquisitely finished, and of beautiful red leather; they sometimes have finely decorated doublures and marbling under the gold on the edges, a charming detail which has been much liked by French binders ever since.

Padeloup le Jeune was royal binder to Louis XV. after Boyet, and belonged to one of the many French families of binders. Padeloup’s work is luckily often signed by means of a small ticket on the title page or end paper. He perfected the patterns known as “Dentelles,” which had been first thought of by Boyet. These designs start from the edges of the boards inwards, and the inner edge is deeply dentated and is supposed to resemble lace. Padeloup used blue and red morocco, and executed several small bindings with inlays of coloured leather in geometrical designs.