In this our great Babylon where, in the arena of trade and mammon-worship, every morning sees the renewal of fierce competitive contests,—where the fight is to the strong and clever, and where every night looks down on the vanquished, dead or wounded on the field,—there are not a few, even among the combatants, who, when the day’s toils and anxieties are over, find both refuge and recreation in the soothing society of their favourite books. And this may be noticed as a general tendency among all book-lovers—that whatever complexion a thoughtful man’s first literary love may assume, whether historical or poetical, whether the phases of religious thought or the metaphysical subtleties of the schoolmen, his studies are almost sure to develop within him a love for the books of bygone ages; and that not merely for their old-world wisdom, but for them simply as old books, as the very paper and print over which our wisdom-loving ancestors pored,—streamlets of thought, which, in their onward course, have developed into those mighty rivers of knowledge which now fructify the whole nation. Doubtless there is an element of sentimentality in loving a book just because it is old; but the feeling is akin to that which makes all of us interested in knowing who our ancestors were; for, after all, the Shakespeare-works we love and the Darwin-theories we admire would never have existed but for the long chain of books behind them, of which indeed they are but important links. These feelings are natural, and they grow by what they feed on.
Some such sympathies stirred within me when looking, last spring (1889), upon a photograph of the chained library at Wimborne Minster; and, occasion offering, I paid a visit or two to the grand old church in that interesting town—visits which prompted the present remarks.
Single books chained in churches were quite common in the Reformation days, and may, even now, be seen occasionally. In this very town of Wimborne a copy of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs was, in bygone days, chained to a desk in the dissenting chapel,—a rather unusual occurrence,—nor are there wanting records which tell of whole collections, where each volume was chained in its place as it stood on the shelf. Such libraries are, however, now very uncommon, and, with the exception of the remarkable old library in Hereford Cathedral, the writer is not aware of any collection in England approaching in interest and extent that at Wimborne Minster.
Who can look at that old building without emotion? The grand Norman arches, with the Gothic additions of later centuries, are, of themselves, an abridged History of England; and, as a pre-Reformation study, form no inappropriate introduction to the post-Reformation collection of volumes, generally the last object of interest in the whole building to which the visitor’s attention is directed.
Let us enter the Abbey; and, without waiting to discuss the changes which generation after generation made in the appearance and architecture of the building, let us wend our way with reverential footsteps towards the sacristy, over which is the library. We cannot pass quite without notice the tomb of the Duke and Duchess of Beaufort, parents to the well-known patroness of all that was good in art and literature, the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VII., and patron of our proto-typographer, William Caxton, whom she employed to print the Fifteen Oes. She it was who founded the adjacent seminary (now the endowed school), built a chantry, and conferred many other benefits on the town of Wimborne.
We just glance at the three old wooden benches occupying the place of the altar-rails, and covered with a white eucharistic cloth, at which, before the Reformation, the laity received the Sacrament—a custom kept up to this day. Let us enter the sacristy. The room appears to be of 15th-century workmanship, has two Gothic windows, and must have had an altar at the east end in bygone times, for the piscina is there still. In one corner is a door which opens upon a spiral stone staircase, every step of which demands foresight on the part of the visitor, so worn and hollow are the stones with the feet of many generations.
At the top of this we reach the chamber over the sacristy, and find ourselves in the midst of many books, nearly all of the 16th and 17th centuries. ’Tis here we can realise the wide gulf which separated the great leaders of pre-Reformation thought, who, through long dim centuries, worked to express their creed and ideas in buildings of sculptured stone and marble, from the still greater leaders, who, by their fervent writings, conquered the creed of whole nations, and elevated the aspirations of mankind by means of that greatest of all inventions—the Printing-press.
Formerly this chamber was the treasure-house where the sacramental plate and other valuables were preserved, among them being two pieces of the real cross, the thigh of St. Agatha, a portion of the crib used by our Saviour when an infant, some hairs from His head, a piece of the alabaster box of Mary Magdalene, a tooth of St. Philip, a bone of Melchizedek, a thorn from our Saviour’s crown, and numerous other relics, of which, if the reader wants to learn more, let him refer to Hutchins’s History of Dorset. The Rev. William Stone, a native of Wimborne and a minister of the church, gave numerous books to form a foundation for the parochial library. He appears first in the church records as an “official” (now called a “surrogate”) in the year 1637. He took the degrees of M.A. and LL.D., was Principal of New Inn College, Oxon., and died in 1680 at Wimborne, where a long epitaph in Latin commemorates his acquirements and virtues. Another minister, the Rev. Thomas Ansty, who was appointed in 1661 and died in 1668, is mentioned as the donor of eight books. The names of Taylour and Constantine, whose autographs occur in some of the books, are also in the list of Ministers of Wimborne. The autograph of the Rev. Samuel Conant, whose books formed probably part of the Stone collection, is found in several volumes.
Against the walls of this old treasure-house are erected shelves. Nearly all the books are chained. The chains are formed of rod-iron bent into a figure of 8, with one end twisted round the middle for strength. We know the date when the library was founded, and therefore of these rude chains—it was 1686. Each chain is about 3 feet long, and has at one end a ring like a curtain ring, which, running along an iron rod, allows considerable play. Thus you can take any book from its place to a desk at a little distance and there consult it, but you cannot take it away. There must have been some advantages in this plan, or it would not have been generally adopted; but, apparently, great disadvantages must have been experienced also. If the chains were a check upon stealing the books, they were certainly no preventive against damage and mutilation, as many of the volumes unfortunately prove. To lug out a heavy volume by the cover does not tend to preserve the binding. The present shelving is modern (1856), the old boards having become too rotten for safety. The old desks, too, which afforded a resting-place for the volumes when consulted, have disappeared, so that for purposes of reference it would be very inconvenient to really use a single book without unchaining it. Several volumes have been unchained and are displayed in a glass case. The Church Committee in 1885 effected this change. The desk and chair had been abolished long before: the glass case was simply placed over the table and unprotected books. This I think is a mistake: it modernises its aspect, and gives the chamber a cramped show-room appearance, very different from its old aspect. The exposed books, too, really answer no useful purpose: they teach nothing; people look and stare for a second, say “Dear me!” and pass on without the gain of a single idea.
The books themselves form an exceedingly interesting and uncommon collection; they represent very fairly the literary taste and religious bias of the 17th century. There are about 240 works in number, many incomplete, and many badly wanting the attention of a binder to preserve them; but with all their deficiencies they include several works very seldom seen, even at the best book-auctions, and with many of which, it may safely be said, bibliographers are little acquainted. The old fathers of the Church are well represented:—Ambrosius, Anselm, Aretius, Augustine, Bernard, Basil, Chrysostom, Clemens, Cyril, Cyprian, Gregory, Herodianus, Hilary, Ignatius, Isodore, Macarius, Tertullian, Theophylactus, and others. Classical writers make a poor show with only Cicero, Plato, and Pliny, although a large proportion of the whole collection is in Latin. In general and ecclesiastical history there are Bede, Camden, Daniel, De Serre, Dugdale, Eusebius, Grimstone, Raleigh, Ross, and Trussell. Works on Divinity and Sermons are too numerous to mention, and include the chief Elizabethan and Caroline Divines. Lexicons are numerous, and the Eastern tongues well represented. Among the authors which are now seldom met with are Abraham, Aretius, Carion, Cassianus, Espencœus, Estius, Euthymius, Fabius, Facundus, Gorranus, Haymo, Heresbachius, Musculus, Optatus, Pintus, Sennertus, Spondanus, Trelcatius, Weinrichius, and Zonaras.
In Bibles the collection, where one would expect riches, is poor. The Septuagint, a Hebrew Old Testament of 1635, the celebrated Polyglot of 1657, Junius and Tremellius, 1617, and the Bishops’ Bible of 1595, often called the Breeches Bible, exhaust the list.
There is one early manuscript only, but that has the advantage of a clear date (1343). It is on vellum, and was written for the use of priests; its title is Regimen Animarum, and it contains a few prettily illuminated initials.
We must not forget to notice that all the books, having the chains fixed to the fore-edge, are placed back first on the shelves, and are released by pulling the chain.
Several volumes have, or rather have had, beautifully embossed designs on their sides. Such were the quarto Pupila Oculi, now nearly destroyed; also a Theophylactus on the Gospels, the binding of which is in excellent preservation, and a treat to the eyes. The tone of the leather is a rich brown, and on one side are represented, in clear relief, all the instruments of the Crucifixion surrounding a central cross, with “Redemptoris Mûdi Arma” beneath in old black letter. The reverse is a large Tudor rose, with a legend difficult in some parts to decipher. The arms of the City of London appear in one of the corners. An exactly similar binding from the old church library at King’s Norton, near Birmingham, has recently excited much attention, and was described by Mr. Brassington in the fifth number of The Bookbinder.
A catalogue of the books, made in 1725, exists in manuscript, under lock and key. Another, made in 1863 by William George Wilkinson, was printed, and a copy is kept in the library. From the latter, the list of books at the end of the guide-book was taken. A copy of the preface to the 1863 edition may appropriately close these remarks.
“This library was catalogued in July, 1725. There were then 200 works in the library. There are now 185 works (in 240 vols.). Ten of these are not mentioned in the old catalogue. Consequently, since 1725, twenty-five works have been lost or stolen. Of these missing works, five had a price attached to them in the margin of the old catalogue in pencil. Others had titles more likely than many to attract the purloiner, e.g., Markham’s Way to get Wealth, Period of Human Life, History of a Private Life, Venner’s Via recta ad Vitam longam (Way to Health and Long Life).
“In the first column of the catalogue now issued will be found, arranged alphabetically, the titles of all the works in the library, at sufficient length for identification.
“In the second column the number of volumes is stated when more than one, and the size of the book when other than folio. This is necessary to enable any one to find a book in the library, as though the books of each letter are placed together on the shelves, yet a further alphabetical arrangement was found impracticable from the diversity of the sizes of the volumes.
“In the fourth column will be found the names of the donors; of these the most munificent were the Rev. Thomas Ansty, 1697, and the Rev. Sam. Conant
“Lastly, it has been thought as well to give a list of the names of former owners of the books, as it is possible that among them some may be of interest to present inhabitants of Wimborne. These will be found in the fifth column, together with remarks on the present condition of the volumes. In some cases considerable depredations have been committed with a sharp pen-knife, on the title-page and tables of contents, apparently for the purpose of supplying missing portions in other copies of the work. Dugdale’s History of St. Paul’s and Loniceri Chronicon Turcicum may be taken as examples.
“Those books which are valued in the margin of the old catalogue are marked ‘val.’ Below each letter will be found an account of the differences between the present catalogue and that of 1725.”