In the centre is a large cross on which is a gilt figure of our Lord in the attitude of the crucifixion. The cross is outlined by a structure of open work of gold ornamented with filagree work and thickly set with jewels. Between the arms of the cross are angels worked in repoussé, and rich bosses of gold and jewels, raised on arcades of open work. The border is of great richness, and is thickly sown with large jewels cut “en cabochon,” many of them pierced longitudinally, betraying in all probability an Oriental provenance. No doubt this was originally made for some valuable manuscript now lost, and it was used to replace the original simple lower cover of the Gospels of Lindau at some unknown time.

The book was formerly in the possession of the Earl of Ashburnham, but now it is gone to America.

Beautiful Byzantine work of the twelfth century is to be seen upon the carved and jewelled binding of the Psalter of Melissenda, daughter of Baldwin II., King of Jerusalem, and wife of Fulk, his successor. The ivory covers measure eight by six inches, and are elaborately carved in bas relief with Biblical scenes. On each side are six circles, and in each circle a little figure group, on one side representing episodes in the life of David and on the other works of mercy. There is lettering run in with red, giving the names of each of the personages shown, and their eyes are set with tiny rubies or emeralds cut “en cabochon” like coloured grains of sand. The spaces between the circles are filled with other Biblical or symbolical figures, scrolls and animals, and a beautiful interlacing border encloses the whole, set with turquoises and rubies.

The carver’s name, “Herodius,” is cut in the lower cover. The workmanship on these ivories is extremely fine, and there is no doubt they were made to be used as a binding. The majority of ivory carvings found on mediæval bookbindings appear to have been simply added, having been originally made for some other purpose. But there are notable exceptions, particularly in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. The shape in which the plaque of ivory is cut will often give a valuable indication in this matter.

The finest Byzantine binding now in England is probably that known as the Gospels of Charlemagne, now in the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is nearly square, and the upper side is overlaid with gilt metal, enamels and gems. In the centre is a seated figure of Our Lord in the attitude of Benediction, in repoussé work. Round this is a band of white and green enamelled lettering, restored, on which are two hexameter lines: “Mathevs et Marcvs Lvcas scsq Johane vox horv qvatvor reboat te xpe Redemptor.” The outer border is made up of rectangular plaques of enamels, gold work and jewels.

The manuscript itself is of the tenth century, and belonged to the Abbey Church of St. Maurice d’Agaune, and from here it was stolen in the fourteenth century. It afterwards found a home at Sion, and was purchased for the Victoria and Albert Museum at the Spitzer sale in 1893.

No doubt examples of rich monastic bindings did exist in England, but none of them are now known. It is likely enough that their value condemned them, and that they were entirely destroyed in the earlier half of the sixteenth century to swell the revenues of the king. The manuscripts belonging to these destroyed covers have, luckily, been kept, and numbers of them came to the British Museum by gift of George II.

Two ornamental bindings only of English origin now remain; these are both simple, they are the St. Cuthbert’s Gospels and the English coronation book of Henry I. These are described in Chapter VIII.

There were plenty of leather bindings ornamented with blind tooling or cut leather work in mediæval times, and these also are described later on.

The idea of ornamenting bindings with sunk panels is of Arab origin. The fashion came to Europe by way of Venice, and the Venetians themselves quickly saw that the possibilities of decorating bindings were largely increased by this device. It is done by means of two boards, the upper of which is pierced, then the whole is covered with leather and ornamented with painted work or stamped work as the case may be. In inferior bindings of this sort, the sunk panels are sometimes produced simply by hard pressure, but the state of the edges of the panels will soon show how they are made. If they are steep there are the double boards, if very sloping there may only be one.

Queen Elizabeth had some of these Venetian sunk bindings presented to her and she liked them. Consequently there were a few examples of it made in England in the sixteenth century. At a later time Charles Lewis bound several large books with double boards in this way, and I think he was the only important English binder who has ever done so to any great extent.

The double boards have left a trace of their existence in the form of a trench which is frequently found along the edges of the boards of sixteenth century bindings of English, Italian, and French workmanship. The trench, however, is merely a survival and does not necessarily imply the actual existence of double boards. It is a distant tribute to our indebtedness to the East.

In some of the double-board books bound for Queen Elizabeth, with sunk panels, the headband is curiously produced away from its normal finishing point and is carried right round the entire edge of the boards in the trench between the boards. It is a decorative and curious peculiarity, and I have never met with it in any foreign books.

Wooden boards were used for bindings until about the end of the fifteenth century, when the idea of using several layers of paper pasted together—paste boards—was thought of. In fact, paste boards may be considered to have been introduced about the same time as printing, and waste printed matter was often used for making them with.

There are many instances in which valuable printed matter has been found hidden up in binder’s boards, and as these can generally be soaked apart and cleaned, we already owe the preservation of several unique fragments to the fact of their having been used for bindings.

Persian manuscripts of the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries are often ornamented in a manner which is of considerable interest. They are bound in paste boards like all other Oriental bindings known to me, and are covered with some sort of gesso applied in a thin layer. On this gesso are paintings of varied merit; some of them, especially the historical and hunting scenes, are extremely well done, and others, mostly floral, are of a commonplace character. The boards are sometimes painted inside and out.

The painting is done in water-colours, and is of the same sort as is found with the manuscript inside, but generally by an inferior artist. When finished the painting was thickly varnished, and this varnish has darkened by time into a mellow golden colour which improves the appearance of the colour work underneath.

The darkening of this varnish has, however, had a remarkable result: the photographic ray cannot pierce it except here and there—in fact, the painting is covered by a non-actinic curtain. A photograph will only show the surface of the varnish with here and there a patch where the blue colour underneath succeeds in making itself felt.

Ornamental though these painted and varnished bindings are, there is unfortunately a great and inherent delicacy about them, and it is that the varnished surface is badly given to chipping off. It is difficult to say what the best remedy for this chipping or flaking off is; it is probably due to the discrepancy in hardness between the hard varnish and the soft boards; it seems to be radical.

Experiments are needed in this matter, but owners of fine specimens, even if chipped, are naturally chary of allowing experiments which may do harm as well as good. I should say that probably much good might be done by dropping a little collodion so as to make it run down between the loosened surfaces; it will act as a cement and strengthen as well as fasten them together. It is also likely that thin glue applied several times might also do good used in the same way, but I believe collodion is better and penetrates weak places more readily.

The same styles of ornamentation are used on mirror cases and other small objects, so that although many bindings are so treated, yet the method is not one exclusively used for such purpose. But no doubt the finest work was put on bindings, some of which are large.

Another Persian manner is that of using large metal stamps impressed with elaborate arabesques. The impressions from these stamps of course give a design in relief. The whole impression is generally gilded in various tints, and the small design itself is often picked out with a little colour. Many of these arabesque panel stamps are of wonderful beauty.

Arabic and other Oriental bindings have a curious flap projecting from one of the boards, which covers and protects the front edges. The flaps are ornamented in the same way as the rest of the binding.

The sewing and the paper of all these books is weak and light, but there is always work of much interest on the bindings. The backs are flat and the paste boards are thin and covered with very thin leather. They are usually ornamented inside and outside with blind and gilt work, stamped and cut work, and hand painting, in much variety.

The open work cut with a knife from thin leather is remarkable for its extraordinary precision and delicacy; it is usually in arabesques with small flowers, and often coloured by hand. It is always set on a background of colour, either painted or a bit of coloured paper. But the work is very frail, and panels of it are rarely found perfect.

Oriental bindings are altogether weak, and they will not stand hard wear.

Now we have, chiefly from America, machines that will do almost every one of the hand-operations for binding a book. There are sewing machines that only want to be fed with thread and the books to be sewn; there are casing machines of wonderful speed and accuracy, backing machines and binding machines. The only one thing that cannot yet be done by a machine is the pasting down the ends of the bands or tapes inside the boards. I rather think that many of these machines strain the paper badly, and also they require setting elaborately to a certain size. They are very useful for large, cheap editions, but little use for good miscellaneous work. Nothing is really so good as the old-fashioned sewing on raised bands by hand.

BOOKS TO CONSULT.

Cockerell, D. Bookbinding. London, 1901.

Davenport, C. Cantor Lectures on Decorative Bookbinding. London, 1898.

Davenport, C. (Encyc. Brit. Article Bookbinding). London, 1902.

Du Sommerard, A. Les arts au Moyen Age. Paris, 1838-46.

Gori, A. F. Thesaurus vet. Diptychorum. Florentiæ, 1759.

Labarte, J. Hist. des Arts au Moyen Age. Paris, 1864.

Libri, Count G. Catalogue. Paris, 1857.

Madan, F. Books in Manuscript. London, 1893.