Why chain books? It is certainly a distressing as well as a suggestive sight to see books in chains. Distressing, because a good book is like a strong man, and when chained is as shorn Samson among the Philistines. No one nowadays would think of chaining books to desks or library shelves, for our ideas about such matters have indeed altered from those prevalent when such a custom obtained; so that the mere sight of a single survival of this rude practice is strongly suggestive, not only of national advance in education and literary enlightenment, but also of the power of the printing-press, through whose influence alone her offspring—as well as her parents, the manuscript books—have been redeemed from their chains.

Before the invention of Printing, books were scarce and dear, and it was the custom of the College authorities to lend single volumes to students for one year, to be then returned with evidence of their having been profitably studied. No doubt positive loss was one result, and injustice to non-favoured students another; but books borrowed have always been proverbial for not coming home to roost, and chaining seemed a natural way of securing them for general use. This appears to me more likely to have been the object of chaining than the prevention of theft.

The custom of fastening books to their shelves by chains was common at an early period throughout all Europe. When a book was given to a mediæval library it was necessary, in the first place, to buy a chain, and, if the book was of especial value, a pair of clasps; secondly, to employ a smith to put them on; and, lastly, a painter to write the name and class-mark across the fore-edge. Large collections of chained books were for the use of particular bodies of students; but when religious zeal made many people feel the want of spiritual food, it led to the chaining of single volumes in churches, where any parishioner, able to read, could satisfy his soul. The Bible was, of course, one of the most common, and among others were Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, the various works of Bishop Jewel, and other Divines.

The old records of various Colleges have numerous entries concerning the cost of chains, of rods, of rings, and of wages paid for enchainment. In 1444 great inconvenience was felt from the overcrowded state of the library at Oxford University, where, all the books being chained, the students were continually jostling one another. So a petition was got up to Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, a book-lover whose name is always green in the memory of bibliophiles, that he would assist in obtaining an enlargement of the library.⁠[4] The petitioners state their grievance very tersely in good Latin, and complain that “should any student be poring over a single volume, as often happens, he keeps three or four others away on account of the books being chained so closely together.”⁠[5] Perhaps the most complete account of the whole process of erecting the shelves and desks, and chaining the books, will be found in the archives of Eton College for the years 1519-20 et seq. These chains were all removed exactly two centuries later. In the reign of Henry III. the whole library of Oxford University consisted of only a few books, some of which were chained, and some locked in chests in St. Mary’s Church.

In 1519-21 the Eton Library was rearranged, and the books rebound. The cost, and all particulars, are entered in the “Audit Book.” The following is extracted from Willis and Clark, III., 431:—

“In the first year, 24 dozen chains of three sorts (explained in the next year’s account to mean of three different lengths) are bought; 48 iron bars for the rings to play upon; 12 locks, with a corresponding number of hasps (claustra) to secure the bars, and 4 keys; and lastly, a pair of pincers to cut the strips of brass or copper required for the attachment of the rings to the boards.”

The following is the text of this portion of the account:—

“Et pro xxiv duodenis cathenarum trium generum ad libros in bibliotheca cathenandos iiij^li. Et pro pari forpicum ad laminas eneas secandas ad fixuram dictorum librorum, xvj^d. Et Roberto Oliuere fabro ferrario pro xlviij vectibus ferreis ad chatenas continend’ pondere iij c et di c^li lvij^s ij^d. Et idem pro xij seris et totidem claustris et iiij clanibus precij capitis, xx^s xx^d.”

In the next year a bookbinder named Andrew Lisley is employed for 199 days to bind and repair the books. He receives fourpence per day in wages, and one shilling per week in commons. The Bursar buys for his use 20 calf skins, 36 white sheep skins, 3 large and 3 small doe skins, 5 pig skins (pro quinque pellibus de la soure), and 28 red skins, 100 plates of horn, 5000 copper nails (to be set round the edge of the boards, like bosses, to protect the binding), 10 pounds and a quarter of strips of brass, 7 pounds brass wire, 27 pairs of clasps, and a quantity of green and red thread, glue and needles.

At Pembroke College, Cambridge, the books were reported by Dr. Matthew Wren (1616) to have suffered severely, partly from the sloping form of the desks upon which they were placed for perusal, and partly from the weight of the chains (ex inepta mole catenarum).

1491. From the University accounts:—

1574. From the same:—

1506. Bishop Fisher, of Christ’s College, in the same University, directs:—

In order that no scholar may be ignorant of the Statutes of the College, we desire that two copies of them may be fastened by a small iron chain to a stall in the Chapel, so that every scholar may be enabled to have access to them.

1554. At Corpus Christi, Cambridge, it was ordered that the books bequeathed by Peter Nobys, D.D., who was Master, 1516-23, should be better taken care of for the future; and, if the chains were broken, that they should be repaired at the expense of the College.

1563. From St. John’s, Cambridge, College accounts:—

1580. At Jesus College, Cambridge, is recorded:—

1600. From the accounts of Trinity College, Cambridge:—

1683. The library of King’s College, Cambridge, was in chains, and among the rules for the guidance of the scholars was this:—

For the rendering his business about the library more easy, each person that makes use of any books in the said library is required to set them up again decently, without entangling the chains.

This entanglement must have been very incommodious, as it was a fault easily committed when the chains hung so close together.

The Statutes of the College were, about the same period, also chained in the Chapel, as were those of Queen’s College. The Statutes of St. John’s College, Cambridge, were chained in the Vestry.

In 1555 Robert Chaloner, of Gray’s Inn, gave 40 shillings for chains to fasten his gift of books in the library there.

In 1659 John Selden’s books which were sent by his executors to the University Library, Oxford, were chained. In 1757 the chains were all removed.

In the Foreigner’s Companion through the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, written in 1748, the inconvenience of chaining books is noticed, and about this time the abolition of chains began, and, by the end of the century, very few chained collections remained. At King’s College, in 1777, a man was paid £1 7s. for nine days spent in taking the chains off the books. Not a single chained book is now to be seen in any of our Universities.

There are, however, a few chained collections still left in the United Kingdom, viz.: Hereford Cathedral, about 2000 volumes; Wimborne Minster, 240 volumes; All Saints’ Church, Hereford, about 300 volumes; Bolton School, about 50 volumes; Grantham, 286 volumes; and Turton, 42 volumes.

Nichols, in his Illustrations of Manners and Expenses, says that when Selden’s books were sent to the Bodleian Library, Oxford, the sum of £25 10s. was paid for new chains. Taking the chains at a cost of sixpence each, they would serve for 1120 volumes. This was in the year 1659.

The University Library at Leyden was formerly in chains. A representation of it is given in a curious copperplate, which occurs in a history of the University, published in 1614.⁠[6] It will be seen that the books there were placed on single shelves, and not, as in England, shelf over shelf—an arrangement which, although occupying considerably more room, was much more convenient. The same arrangement has been adopted at Florence.

Probably the largest collection of chained books in existence is in the Laurentian Library at Florence, where they rest, large and small, upon richly carved wooden desks.

The interior of this magnificent Library is rich, not only in books, but in architecture, wood-carving, ceiling decoration, and stained glass windows. There is only one row of books in each compartment, and all are kept covered up, except when in use.

This building, designed by Michael Angelo, was begun in 1525, by desire of Pope Clement VII. (Giulio dei Medici), to contain the collection of books associated with the name of his ancestor, Cosmo dei Medici. The book-cases were probably designed by Antonio di Marco di Giano, called il Carota, and Gianbattista del Tasso. The material is walnut wood.

In the church of St. Wallberg, at Zutphen, in Holland, there is a large collection of books, originally unchained, but which, being all of a religious tendency, excited the animosity of the Devil, who, on several occasions, gained admittance and stole the best of them. The evidence was indisputable, for the marks of his cloven feet upon the flagstones showed plainly, not only the personality of the thief, but the very course he had taken in his sacrilegious visits. The matter was serious, for no one could tell where the depredations would stop; so a consultation was held, and the determination taken to secure the whole of the residue with chains sprinkled with holy water, after which his Satanic Majesty discreetly kept at a distance; and there the books have remained ever since undisturbed, except by the ubiquitous tourist. There are 268 chained books, and 75 unchained ones lying by them, now in the Library.

The chaining of single books in churches doubtless originated in the Injunctions given by Edward VI. to “the Clergie and the Laietie” in 1547, and printed by Grafton, in which they are ordered “to provide within three moneths next after the visitacion one boke of the whole Bible of the largest volume in English, and within one twelve moneth after the saied visitacion, the Paraphrasis of Erasmus, the same to be sette uppe in some convenient place within the churche.”

This Injunction was repeated by Queen Elizabeth in 1559, and, although nothing was mentioned about chains, it seems very probable that the Churchwardens would, for their own sake, adopt that plan of protecting their property.

The mention of “casks” in the cost of carriage occurs in several instances, as at Gorton, where the carriage of the cask from London cost 16s. 4d. These casks were the usual mode of conveyance for books both in Holland and England. No safer way than packing books in a large cask, and filling the spaces with sawdust or paper-shavings, could be devised.

The following list of books now in chains in the United Kingdom is compiled in every case from direct information recently obtained. To all who have kindly replied to his inquiries, the Compiler tenders his best thanks. He must also confess how greatly he has laid under contribution the admirable work by Willis and Clark, upon the Architectural History of Cambridge University, and for the Lancashire Libraries the exhaustive contribution by Mr. Chancellor Christie to the Chetham Society’s publications.

That the list is nearly complete is not for a moment imagined. That every reader who can correct or add to it will kindly do so is the urgent request of the Compiler.