CHAPTER VI: ACADEMIC LIBRARIES: OXFORD Old English libraries; the making, collection and use of books during the middle ages | ||
6. CHAPTER VI: ACADEMIC LIBRARIES: OXFORD
1. § I
PROBABLY a few scribes plied their craft in Oxford in early days long before the students began to make a settlement, for the town had been a flourishing borough, one of the largest in England. But until the end of the twelfth century we hear nothing about books and their makers or users in Oxford. Then we find illuminators, bookbinders, parchmenters, and a scribe referred to in a document relating to the sale of land in Cat Street. This record is very significant, as it suggests the active employment of book-makers in the centre of Oxford's student life. St. Mary's Church was the hub. Cat Street, School Street running parallel with it from High Street to the north boundary, and Schydyard Street, the continuation of School Street on the southern side of High Street, alleys of the usual medieval narrowness and mean appearance, the buildings on either hand almost touching one another, and the way dark—were the haunts of masters and scholars and all those depending on them. Students, old and young, of high station and low, are crowded in lodging-houses, many of which are shabby, dirty, and disreputable. Hence they come forth to play their games or carry on their feuds. Some haunt taverns and worse
Not till the University became firmly established as a corporate body could a common library be formed. The beginning was simple. The first books reserved for common use had their home in St. Mary's Church: some lay in chests, and were lent in exchange for a suitable pledge; others were chained to desks so that students could readily refer to them. These books were almost certainly theological in character, and all were no doubt given by benefactors, now unknowm. Such a gift was received early in the thirteenth century from Roger de L'Isle, Dean of York, who gave a Bible, divided into four parts for the convenience of copyists, and the Book of Exodus, glossed, but old and of little value.[6.1] Possibly some books remained in the church even after an independent library was founded, for as late as 1414 a copy of Nicholas de Lyra was chained in the chancel for public use, where it was inspected by the Chancellor and proctors every year.[6.2]
To a "good clerk" who had gathered his learning at three
Universities—the arts at Paris, canon law at Oxford, and theology at
Cambridge—the University library appropriately owes its origin. Bishop
Cobham left his books
Long before 1410 the "good clerk's" books had been made of real service to students. Fittings were put up in
We can easily imagine what the library was like. The chamber over the Congregation House is small, scarcely larger than the average class-room of to-day; lighted by seven windows on each side. Between some, if not all, of the windows bookcases would stand at right angles to the wall, forming little alcoves, fit for the quiet pursuit of knowledge. Learning itself was shackled. Chains from a bar running the length of each case secured the books, which could only be read on the slope fixed a few feet above the floor. In each alcove was a bench for readers to sit upon. A large and conspicuous board, with titles and names of benefactors written upon it in a fair hand, hung up in the room.[6.7] Here then would come the flower of Oxford scholarship to study, any time after eight in the morning. Every student is welcome if he does not enter in wet clothing, or bring in ink, or a knife, or dagger. We like to picture this small room, fitted with solid, rude furniture, monastic in its austerity of appearance; full of
Such a picture would perhaps be overdrawn. Young Oxford was not always quiet, or whole-heartedly studious. The liberal regulations seem to have been liable to abuse. Students soiled and damaged the books. The little room was more than full: it was overcrowded with scholars, and with "throngs of visitors" who disturbed the readers. After 1412 only graduates and religious who had studied philosophy for eight years could enter the library, and while there they must be robed. Even such mature students had to make solemn oath, in the Chancellor's presence, to use the books properly: make no erasures or blots, or otherwise spoil the precious writing.[6.8] Under these regulations the library was open from nine to eleven in the morning, and from one to four in the afternoon, Sundays and mass days excepted. Strangers of eminence and the Chancellor could pay a visit at any time by daylight. The chaplain, who was to be a man of parts, of proved morality and uprightness, now received 106s. 8d. a year. The Proctors were bound to pay this stipend half-yearly, with punctuality, or be fined the heavy sum of forty shillings: the chaplain, it is explained, must have no grievance to nurse—no ground for carrying out his duties in a slovenly or perfunctory manner. He, indeed, was an important officer. For health's sake he must have a month's holiday during the long vacation. As it was absurd for him to have fewer perquisites than those below him in station, every beneficed graduate, at graduation, was required to give him robes.[6.9] The finicking character of these regulations suggests that the University statute-maker
Thus was established firmly, in the early years of the fifteenth century, a University Library, an important resort of students; the proper place, as the common rendezvous of members of the University, for publishing the Lollard doctrines condemned at London in 1411. No town in England was better supplied with libraries than Oxford, for besides the collections of the University, the monastic colleges and the convents, libraries were already formed at Merton, University, Oriel and New Colleges. Such progress in providing scholars' armouries is remarkable, the greater part of it being accomplished during a period of great social and religious unrest—not the unrest of a wind-fretted surface, but of a grim and far-sweeping underswell—a period when pestilence, violent tempests and earthquakes, seemed bodeful of Divine displeasure; not a time surely when the studious life would be attractive, or when much care would be taken to establish libraries, unless indeed controversy made recourse to books more necessary or the signs of the times gave birth to a greater number of benefactors. [6.10]
But the University library was to become the richest and most
considerable in the town. Benefactors were well greeted. Besides praying
for their souls—and some of them, like Bishop Reed, were pathetically
anxious about the prayers—the University showed every reasonable sign
of its gratitude: posted up donors' names in the library itself;
submitted each gift to congregation three days after receiving it, and
within twelve days later had it chained
By far the most generous of friends was the Duke of Gloucester, whose first gift was made before 1413,[6.13] 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,"
To study in bokes of antiquitie,"
Of the character of the Duke's gifts in 1413 and in
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.[6.18] 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. [6.19] From a manuscript preserved in the library of Earl Fitzwilliam at Wentworth
Hath eu'y clerk at werk. They of hem gete
Metaphisic; phisic these rather feele;
They natural, moral they rather trete;
Theologie here ye is with to mete;
Him liketh loke in boke historial.
In deskis XII hym serve as half a strete
Hath looked their librair uniu'al."[6.20] [universal]
A year later Gloucester sent 7 more books; then after a while 9
more (1440-41);[6.21] 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 Attacae, the Golden Ass of Apulelus, 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 Refiais memorandis,
de Remediis
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.[6.23]
"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."[6.24] 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
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;[6.26] 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 succulari). 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.[6.27] The building was
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. [6.29] 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.
2. § 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.[6.30] It seems
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
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.[6.44] Nearly ten years later a new library was put up. Bishop Brantingham and John More, rector of St. Petrock's, Exeter, contributed
The monastic college of Durham enjoyed a "fayre library, well-decked and well flowred withe a timber Flowre over it," built in 1417 and fitted in 1431.[6.48] Another college belonging to the monks of Christ Church, Canterbury, also had a library, which had been replenished with books from the mother-house.[6.49] 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—
Praesul et huic Œdi Gray libros contulit Ely."
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.[6.51] As early as 1388-89 payments were made for making desks for the library of Queen's College. [6.52] 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.
3. § 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. [6.53] The University library was in similar case. When Erasmus saw the scanty remains of
N. Bishop's Collectanea, now at Cambridge; Wood, Hist. and Antiq. U. of O., ed. Gutch, 1796 2, vol. ii. pt. 2, 910.
After the Black Death, Trinity Hall, Cambridge, possibly Corpus Christi, Cambridge, Canterbury College and New College, Oxford, were founded, and University (Clare) Hall, Cambridge, was enlarged, partly, at any rate, to repair the ravages the plague had made among the clergy. Camb. Lit., ii. 354; cf. Hist. MSS., 5th Rep., 450.
The indenture in which the books are catalogued mentions nine books received before: possibly these were the gift of 1435. Mun. Acad., 758; O. H. .S. 35, Anstey, 177.
He also owned some French manuscripts: what he gave to Oxford formed part of a much larger private library.
The plan resembled that of the old library built by Adam de Brome. For notes on the architectural history of this library, see Pietas O.
O, H. S. 32, Collect., iii. 225; cf. Hist. MSS. 2nd Rep., App. 135a; Walcott, W. of Wykeham, 285.
Brantingham gave £20 towards the building; More, £10. Account of building expenses, amounting to £57, 13s. 5½d., is given in O. H. S., 27, Boase, 345, see p. ;iii.
O, H. S., 27, Boase, xlviii. In 1392 "iiiis pro ligacione septem librorum et Id pro cervisia in eisdem ligatoribus, VId erario pro labore suo circa eosdem libros, et IId Johanni Lokyer pro impositione eorundem librorum in descis."
The building, which is still standing as a part of Trinity College, cost £42; fittings, £6, 165. 8d. Blakiston, Trin. Coll., 26
O. H. S. 27, Boase; O. H. S. 5, Collect., 62. At C. C, Christ Church, and St. John's Colleges the least useful books could be sold if the libraries became too large.—Oxford Stat.
CHAPTER VI: ACADEMIC LIBRARIES: OXFORD Old English libraries; the making, collection and use of books during the middle ages | ||