John Willis Clark

THE FITTINGS OF MONASTIC LIBRARIES AND OF COLLEGIATE LIBRARIES PROBABLY IDENTICAL. ANALYSIS OF SOME LIBRARY-STATUTES. MONASTIC INFLUENCE AT THE UNIVERSITIES. NUMBER OF BOOKS OWNED BY COLLEGES. THE COLLEGIATE LIBRARY. BISHOP COBHAM'S LIBRARY AT OXFORD. LIBRARY AT QUEENS' COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. AT ZUTPHEN. THE LECTERN SYSTEM. CHAINING OF BOOKS. FURTHER EXAMPLES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

How were the libraries mentioned in the preceding chapter fitted up? For instance, what manner of bookcases did Archbishop Chichele put into his library at Canterbury in 1414, or the "bons ouvriers subtilz et plains de sens" supply to the Abbat of Clairvaux in 1496? The primitive book-presses have long ago been broken up; and the medieval devices that succeeded them have had no better fate. This dearth of material need not, however, discourage us. We have, I think, the means of discovering with tolerable certainty what monastic fittings must have been, by comparing the bookcases which still exist in a more or less perfect form in the libraries of Oxford and Cambridge with such monastic catalogues as give particulars of arrangement and not merely lists of books.

The collegiate system was in no sense monastic, indeed it was to a certain extent established to counteract monastic influence; but it is absurd to suppose that the younger communities would borrow nothing from the elder—especially when we reflect that the monastic system, as inaugurated by S. Benedict, had completed at least seven centuries of successful existence before Walter de Merton was moved to found a college, and that many of the subsequent founders of colleges were more or less closely connected with monasteries. Further, as we have seen that study was specially enjoined upon monks by S. Benedict, it is precisely in the direction of study that we might expect to find features common to the two sets of communities. And, in fact, an examination of the statutes affecting the library in the codes imposed upon some of the earlier colleges at Oxford and Cambridge, leads us irresistibly to the conclusion that they were derived from monastic Customs, using the word in its technical sense, and monastic practice. The resemblances are too striking to be accidental.

I shall therefore, in the next place, review, as briefly as I can, the statutes of some of the above colleges, taking them in chronological order[258]; and I shall translate some passages from them.

But first let me mention that the principle of lending books to students under a pledge was accepted by the University of Oxford many years before colleges were founded. It is recorded that Roger L'Isle, Dean of York, in the early part of the thirteenth century, "bestowed several exemplars of the holy Bible to be used by the Scholars of Oxford under a pledge"; that the said books, with others, were "locked up in chests, or chained upon desks in S. Mary's Chancel and Church to be used by the Masters upon leave first obtained"; that certain officers were appointed to keep the keys of these chests, and to receive the pledges from those that borrowed the books; and that the books were so kept "till the library over the Congregation House was built, and then being taken out, were set up in pews or studies digested according to Faculties, chained, and had a keeper appointed over them[259]."

In the statutes of Merton College, Oxford, 1274, the teacher of grammar (grammaticus) is to be supplied with a sufficient number of books out of the funds of the House, but no other mention of books occurs therein[260]. The explanatory ordinances, however, given in 1276 by Robert Kilwardby (Archbishop of Canterbury 1273-79), direct that the books of the community are to be kept under three locks, and to be assigned by the warden and sub-warden to the use of the Fellows under sufficient pledge[261]. In the second statutes of University College (1292), it is provided, "that no Fellow shall alienate, sell, pawn, hire, lett, or grant, any House, Rent, Money, Book, or other Thing, without the Consent of all the Fellows"; and further, with special reference to the Library:

Every Book of the House, now given, or hereafter to be given, shall have a high value set upon it when it is borrowed, in order that he that has it may be more fearful lest he lose it; and let it be lent by an Indenture, whereof one part is to be kept in the common Chest, and the other with him that has the Book: And let no Book, belonging to the House, be lent out of the College, without a Pawn better (than the Book), and this with the Consent of all the Fellows.

Let there be put one Book of every Sort that the House has, in some common and secure Place; that the Fellows, and others with the Consent of a Fellow, may for the Future have the Benefit of it.

Every Opponent in Theology, or Reader of the Sentences, or a Regent that commonly reads (regens et legens communiter), when he wants it, shall have any necessary Book, that the House has, lent to him Gratis; and when he has done with it, let him restore it to that Fellow, who had formerly made choice of it[262].

The statutes of Oriel College, dated 1329, lay down the following rules for the management of books:

The common books (communes libri) of the House are to be brought out and inspected once a year, on the feast of the Commemoration of Souls [2 November], in presence of the Provost or his deputy, and of the Scholars [Fellows].

Every one of them in turn, in order of seniority, may select a single book which either treats of the science to which he is devoting himself, or which he requires for his use. This he may keep, if he please, until the same festival in the succeeding year, when a similar selection of books is to take place, and so on, from year to year.

If there should happen to be more books than persons, those that remain are to be selected in the same manner[263].

The last clause plainly shews how small the number of the books must have been when the statute was written. Their safety was subsequently secured by an ordinance of the Provost and Scholars, which, by decree of the Visitor, dated 13 May, 1441, received the authority of a statute. The high value set upon the books is shewn by the extreme stringency of the penalties imposed for wilful loss or failure of restitution. After describing the annual assemblage of the Provost and Fellows, as directed in the former statute, the new enactment proceeds as follows:

Any person who absents himself on that day, so that the books selected by him are neither produced nor restored; or who, being present, refuses to produce or to restore them; or who refuses to pay the full value, if, without any fraud or deception on his part, it should happen that any one of them be missing; is to be deprived of all right of selecting books for that year; and any person who wittingly defers the aforesaid production or restitution till Christmas next ensuing, shall, ipso facto, cease to be a Fellow.

Further, any scholar who has pawned or alienated, contrary to the common consent of the college, any book or object of value (jocale) belonging to the college; or who has even suggested, helped, or favoured, such pawning or alienation, shall, ipso facto, cease to be a member of the Society[264].

The statutes of Peterhouse, Cambridge, dated 1344, class the books of the Society with the charters and the muniments, and prescribe the following rules for their safe custody:

The section referred to prescribes that the Deans

In 1473 Dr John Warkworth became Master. He was evidently a lover of books, for he gave to the Library fifty-five volumes, which he protected, after the fashion of an earlier age, by invoking a curse upon him who should alienate them. Moreover, during his Mastership, in 1480, the College enacted or adopted a special statute headed, De libris Collegii, which may be thus translated:

The statutes given in 1350 to Trinity Hall, Cambridge, by the Founder William Bateman (Bishop of Norwich 1344-56), contain rules which are more stringent than those already quoted, and were evidently written in contemplation of a more considerable collection of volumes. A list of the books which he himself presented to Trinity Hall is appended to his statutes, and a special chapter (De libris collegii) is allotted to the Library. This may be translated as follows:

It is evident that this statute was regarded as a full and satisfactory expression of what was required, for it is repeated, with additions or omissions to suit the taste of the respective founders, in the statutes of New College (1400), All Souls' (1443), Magdalen (1479), Corpus Christi (1517), Brasenose (1521), Cardinal College (1527) and S. John's College (1555), at Oxford; and in those of King's College, Cambridge.

Among these changes a few are sufficiently important to require special notice. At New College William of Wykeham allows students in civil law and canon law to keep two text-books "for their own special use during the whole time they devote themselves to those faculties in our College, provided they do not possess such books of their own"; the "remaining text-books, should any be left over, and also the glosses or commentaries of the Doctors of civil and canon law, may be lent to the persons belonging to those faculties by the method of annual selection, as in the other faculties"; the "books which remain unassigned after the Fellows have made their selection are to be fastened with iron chains, and remain in the Common Library for the use of the Fellows[269]"; the wishes of donors, whether expressed by will or during their lifetime, are to be respected; and, lastly, the safety of the Library is to be secured by three locks, two large, and one small, of the kind called "a clickett." The keys of the two former are to be kept by the Senior Dean and the Bursar respectively; of the clickett each Fellow is to have a separate key. At night the door is to be carefully locked with all three keys[270].

At All Souls' College, the founder, Henry Chichele (Archbishop of Canterbury 1414-43), makes the books to be chained the subjects of definite choice. The principle of an annual selection is maintained, except for "those books which, in obedience to the will of the donors, or the injunction of the Warden, the Vice-Warden, and the Deans, are to be chained for the common use of the Fellows and Scholars." Further, the preparation of a catalogue is specially enjoined. Every book is to be entered in a register by the first word of the second leaf, and every book given to the Library is to bear the name of the donor on the second leaf, or in some other convenient position. The books are to be inspected once in every year, after which the distribution, as provided for by Bateman and Wykeham, is to take place. Each Fellow who borrows a book is to have a small indenture drawn up containing the title according to the first word of the second leaf, and an acknowledgment that he has received it. These small indentures are to be left in charge of the Warden, or, in his absence, of the Vice-Warden[271].

In the statutes of Magdalen College, the founder, William Waynflete (Bishop of Winchester 1447-87), maintains the provisions of Wykeham and Chichele, but introduces an injunction of his own, to the effect that every Fellow or Scholar who uses the Library is to shut the book he has consulted before he leaves and also the windows; and the last to use the Library at night is to go through the whole room and see that all the windows are shut and not to leave the door open—under a severe penalty[272].

At Corpus Christi College, the founder, Richard Fox (Bishop of Winchester 1501-28), insists upon safeguards against the indiscriminate chaining, of books:

The Bishop was evidently afraid that the Library should be overcrowded, for he even allows books to be sold, in the event of their becoming so numerous as to be no longer of use to the Fellows for the purpose of being borrowed.

Lastly I will translate the following College Order or Statute which was in force at Pembroke College, Cambridge. Unfortunately it is without date, but from internal evidence may take rank with some of the earliest enactments already quoted.

Let us consider, in the next place, what points of library-management have been brought into the most prominent relief by the above analysis of College statutes. We find that the "Common Books" of the House—by which phrase the books intended for the common use of the inmates are meant—are placed on the same footing as the charters, muniments, and valuables (jocalia). They are to be kept in a chest or chests secured by two or three locks requiring the presence of the same number of officials to open them. These volumes may not be borrowed indiscriminately, but each Scholar (Fellow) may choose the book he wants, and write a formal acknowledgment that he has received it, and that he is bound to restore it or pay the value of it, under a severe penalty. Once a year the whole collection is to be audited in the presence of the Master of the College and all the Fellows, when a fresh distribution is to be made. The books not so borrowed are to be put in "some common and secure place"; an arrangement which was subsequently developed into a selection of books required for reference, and the chaining of them in "the Library Chamber for the common use of the Fellows."

The Register of Merton College, Oxford, contains many interesting entries which shew that these directions respecting the choice and loan of books were faithfully observed. I will translate a few of them[275]:

The next entry is particularly valuable, as it proves that all the books on a given subject, no matter how numerous, were occasionally distributed:

In 1498 (14 December) the Warden wished to borrow a book from the library, whereupon a record of the following formalities was drawn up[279]:

The Warden kept the book for a year, at the expiration of which we find the following entry[281]:

Lastly, I will quote a record of the solemn reception of a gift to the library:

These provisions savour of the cloister. The "common books" represent the "common press (armarium commune)" with which we are so familiar there; the double or triple locks with which the book-chests are secured recall the rules for safeguarding the said press; the annual audit and distribution of books is directed in Lanfranc's statutes for English Benedictines; the borrowing under a pledge, or at least after an entry made by the Librarian on his roll of the name of the book and the name of the brother who borrowed it, was universal in monasteries; and the setting apart of certain books in a separate room to which access was readily permitted became a necessity in the larger and more literary Houses. Lastly, the commemoration of donors of books is specially enjoined by the Augustinians[283].

This close similarity between monastic and secular rules need not surprise us. I have shewn in the preceding chapter how faithfully the Benedictine rules for study were obeyed by all the Monastic Orders; and I know not from what other source directions for library-management could have been obtained. Besides, in some cases the authors of the rules which I have been considering must themselves have had experience of monastic libraries. Walter de Merton is said to have been educated in an Augustinian Priory at Merton; Hugh de Balsham, founder of Peterhouse, was Bishop of Ely; William Bateman, whose library-statute was so widely applied, had been educated in the Benedictine Priory at Norwich, and his brother was an abbat; Henry Chichele was Archbishop of Canterbury, where, as I have shewn, a very extensive collection of books had been got together, to contain which worthily he himself built a library.

Secondly, monastic influence was brought directly to bear on both Universities through student-monks; and at Oxford, which was specially selected as the University for monastic colleges, the Benedictines founded Gloucester House, now Worcester College, so early as 1283. This college had a library, on the south side of the chapel, which was built and stocked with books at the sole charge of John Whethamstede, Abbat of S. Albans[284]—whose work in connexion with the library of that House has been already recorded[285]. Durham College, maintained by the Benedictines of Durham, was supplied with books from the mother-house, lists of which have been preserved[286]; and subsequently a library was built there to contain the collection bequeathed in 1345 by Richard de Bury (Bishop of Durham 1333-45)[287]. Lastly, Leland tells us that at Canterbury College in the same University the whole furniture of the library (tota bibliothecÆ supellex) was transferred from the House of Christ Church, Canterbury[288]. It is, I submit, quite inconceivable that the fittings supplied to these libraries could have been different from those commonly used in the monasteries of S. Albans, Durham, and Canterbury.

Further, it should be noted that the erection of a library proper was an afterthought in many of the older colleges, as it had been in the monasteries. For instance, at Merton College, Oxford, founded 1264, the library was not begun till 1377; at University College, founded 1280, in 1440; at Balliol College, founded 1282, in 1431; at Oriel College, founded 1324, in 1444; at Pembroke College, Cambridge, founded 1347, in 1452. William of Wykeham, who founded New College, Oxford, in 1380, was the first to include a library in his quadrangle; and, after the example had been set by him, the plan of every subsequent college includes a library of sufficient dimensions to last till the Reformation, if not till the present day.

The above dates, covering as they do at least two-thirds of the fifteenth century, shew that the collegiate libraries were being built at the same time as the monastic. This coincidence of date, taken in conjunction with the coincidences in enactment which I have already pointed out, seems to me to supply an additional argument in support of my theory that the internal fittings of collegiate and monastic libraries would be identical. Besides, no forms are so persistent as those of pieces of furniture. A workman, once instructed to make a thing in a particular way, carries out his instructions to the letter, and transmits them to his descendants.

Before we consider what these fittings were, I will briefly deal with some other questions affecting collegiate libraries, as, for instance, their size, position, and general arrangement. And first, as regards the number of books to be accommodated.

It happens, unfortunately, that very few catalogues have been preserved of the libraries referred to in the above statutes; but, if we may estimate the extent of the remainder from those of which we have some account, we shall see that the number of volumes contained in a collegiate library must have been extremely small. For instance, the catalogue[289] appended to Bishop Bateman's statutes, dated 1350, enumerates eighty-four volumes, classed under the following subjects, in two divisions[290], viz. those presented to the College for the immediate use of the Fellows (A); and those reserved for the Bishop's own use during his life (B):

At King's Hall, in 1394, eighty-seven volumes only are enumerated[291]; and even in the University Library not more than 122 volumes were recorded in 1424[292]. They were distributed as follows:

The catalogue of the Library of Queens' College, dated 1472, enumerates one hundred and ninety-nine volumes[294]; the second catalogue of the University Library, dated 1473, three hundred and thirty volumes[295]; an early catalogue of the library of S. Catharine's Hall, one hundred and four volumes, of which eighty-five were given by the Founder[296]; and a catalogue of the old library of King's College, dated 1453, one hundred and seventy-four volumes. In these catalogues the books are not directly classed under heads, but arranged roughly, according to subject, in their respective cases[297].

At Peterhouse in 1418 we find a somewhat larger collection, namely, three hundred and eighty volumes, divided among seventeen subjects. The general heading of the catalogue[298] states that it contains "all the books belonging to the house of S. Peter in Cambridge, both those which are chained in the library, those which are divided among the Fellows, and those of which some are intended to be sold, while certain others are laid up in chests within the aforesaid house." This language shews that by the time the catalogue was made the collection had been divided into books for the use of the Fellows (libri distribuendi) and books chained in the library (libri cathenati in libraria); in other words, into a lending library and a library of reference. We are not told how this division had been made, or at what time; but it is evident that by 1418 it had become permanent, and no longer depended on the tastes or studies of the Fellows. There was one set of books for them to select from, and another for them to refer to; but the two were quite distinct[299].

In the next place I will analyse the catalogue in order to shew what subjects were represented, and how many volumes there were in each. And first of the contents of the library of reference:

The books that were to be divided among the Fellows are classed as follows:

In framing these tables I have included among the Libri cathenati those specially presented to the College, 46 in number; but I have not attempted to sort them according to subject. I have also assumed that any book or books representing a given class, if not represented in the lending library, as Astronomy, Arithmetic, Music, etc., would be chained for reference. The number of this class, 220, if added to the 160 of the other class, gives the required total, 380.

In addition to these tables it will be interesting to construct a third, containing the subject and number of the books represented in both collections:

The subjects of the books included in this latter table represent, in a very clear and interesting way, the studies pursued at Peterhouse in the 14th and 15th centuries. It is prescribed by the statutes, dated 1344, that the scholars are to study Arts, Aristotelian Philosophy, or Theology; but that they are to apply themselves to the course in Arts until, in the judgment of the Master and Fellows, or at least of the larger and wiser portion of that body, they are sufficiently instructed to proceed to the study of Theology[300]. Two may study Civil Law or Canon Law, but no more at the same time; and one may study Medicine[301]. For both these lines of study special leave is required.

The course of Arts comprised Grammar, Logic, Aristotle, Arithmetic, Music, Geometry, and Astronomy. In the first of these, including Poetry, the lending library contained more volumes than the reference library; in Logic it had three times as many; in Philosophy (Aristotle and his commentators) it was well supplied; but, on the other hand, Music, Geometry and Astronomy were wholly wanting. Theology is represented by 63 volumes as against 61 in the reference library; Civil Law by 20 volumes against 9 in the reference library; and Canon Law by 19 against 18. In Medicine, however, there were only 3 against 15. By a curious coincidence the number of volumes in the two collections dealing with the subjects represented in both is the same. The subject most in request, as might have been expected, was Theology. Next to this come Civil Law and Canon Law. Medicine was evidently unpopular. I have no explanation to offer for the curious fact that Arithmetic, Music, Geometry, and Rhetoric are represented by only a single volume apiece in the library of reference[302].

These examples, which there is no reason to regard as exceptional, are sufficient to shew that an ordinary chamber would be large enough to contain all the volumes possessed by a college, even after some of the more generally useful books of reference had been chained to desks for the resort of students.

It has been already shewn that what Professor Willis calls "a real library—that is to say, a room expressly contrived for the purpose of containing books[303]"—was not introduced into the plan of colleges for more than a century after their first foundation. He points out that such rooms can be at once recognised by their equidistant windows, which do not, as a rule, differ from those of the ordinary chambers, except that they are separated by much smaller intervals. Examples of this arrangement are still to be seen at S. John's College, Jesus College, and Queens' College, Cambridge; but perhaps the most characteristic specimen of all is that which was built over the Hall at Pembroke College in the same University, by Laurence Booth (Master 1450-1480), the aspect of which has been preserved in Loggan's print, here reproduced (fig. 48)[304].

A, Chapel; B, Library; C, Hall; D, Master's Lodge; E, Kitchen; F, Master's Garden; G, Fellows' Garden.

The upper chamber (solarium) which Thomas Cobham (Bishop of Worcester 1317-27) began to build over the old Congregation House on the north side of S. Mary's Church, Oxford, about 1320, for the reception of the books which he intended to present to the University, is the earliest of these libraries in existence. It still retains on the south side part of a range of equidistant single-light windows of the simplest character, which, as just stated, mark the destination of the apartment. This room is about forty-five feet long by eighteen feet broad, and, in its original state, had probably seven single-light windows on each side, and a window of two lights at the east end[305] (fig. 49). A long controversy between the University and Oriel College rendered the benefaction useless for more than forty years; and it was not until 1367 that the University passed a statute directing that Bishop Cobham's books are to be chained, in proper order; and that the Scholars who wish to use them are to have free access to them at convenient hours (temporibus opportunis). Lastly, certain volumes, of greater value, are to be sold, to the value of forty pounds, or more, if a larger sum can be obtained for them, for the purpose of purchasing an annual rent-charge of sixty shillings, to be paid to a chaplain, who is to pray for the soul of the aforesaid Thomas Cobham, and other benefactors; and who is to take charge of the books given by him and them, and of all other books heretofore given, or hereafter to be given, to the University[306]. The passing of this statute may probably be regarded as the first institution of the office of University Librarian. Notwithstanding this statute, however, the University did not obtain peaceful possession of their library until 1410, when the controversy was finally extinguished by the good offices of their Chancellor, Richard Courtenay[307].

As a type of a collegiate library I will select the old library of Queens' College, Cambridge. This room, on the first floor of the north side of the quadrangle, forms part of the buildings erected in 1448. It is 44 ft. long by 20 ft. wide (fig. 50), and is lighted by eleven windows, each of two lights, six of which are in the south wall and five in the north wall. The windows in the south wall have lost their cusps, but they are retained in those in the north wall—and the library has in all points suffered less from modern interference than almost any other with which I am acquainted. The bookcases have been altered and patched more than once, in order to provide additional shelf-room; but at the bottom of the more modern superstructure part at least of the original medieval desk may be detected. If this fragment be carefully examined it will be found that there is on the inside of each end of the bookcase a groove which evidently once supported a desk 6 ft. 6 in. long, and of a height convenient for a seated reader to use[308] (fig. 51). The books lay on their sides on this desk, to which they were chained in a way that I shall explain directly, and a bench for the reader was placed between each pair of desks. In the plan (fig. 50) I have added the half-desk which once stood against the west wall; and I have lettered all the desks according to the catalogue made in 1472 by Andrew Docket, the first President.

It should be carefully noted, when studying this plan, that the distance between each pair of windows is not more than 2 feet, and that the end of the desk covers the whole of this space. If this fact be borne in mind when examining libraries that are now fitted up in a different way, it becomes possible to detect what the original method was.

I propose to name this system of fittings the lectern-system; and I shall shew, as we proceed, that it was adopted, with various modifications, in England, France, Holland, Germany and Italy.

Fortunately, one example of such fittings still exists, at Zutphen in Holland, which I visited in April, 1894. Shortly afterwards I wrote the following description of what is probably a unique survival of an ancient fashion[310].

The library in which these fittings occur is attached to the church of SS. Peter and Walburga, the principal church of the town. A library of some kind is said to have existed there from very early times[311]; but the place where the books were kept is not known. In 1555 a suggestion was made that it would be well to get together a really good collection of books for the use of the public. The first stone of the present building was laid in 1561, and it was completed in 1563. The author of the Theatrum Urbium BelgicÆ, John Blaeu, whose work was completed in 1649, describes it as "the public library poorly furnished with books, but being daily increased by the liberality of the Senate and Deputies[312]."

The room is built against the south choir-aisle of the church, out of which a door opens into it. In consequence of this position the shape is irregular, for the church is apsidal, and the choir-aisle is continued round part of the apse. It is about 60 feet long, by 26 feet broad at the west end. In the centre are four octagonal columns on square bases, supporting a plain quadripartite vault. The room is thus divided longitudinally into two aisles, with a small irregular space at the east end.

The diagrammatic ground-plan, here subjoined (fig. 52), will help to make this description clear. It makes no pretensions to accuracy, having been drawn from notes only[313].

There are two windows, each of three lights, at the west end of the room, and four similar windows on the south side, one to each bay. There is a fifth window, now blocked, at the south-east corner. Some of these windows contain fragments of richly coloured stained glass—among which the figure of a large green parrot is conspicuous; but whether these fragments were brought from the church, or are part of the glass originally supplied to the library, there is no evidence to shew. Most of these windows are partially blocked, having been damaged, it is said, in one of the numerous sieges from which Zutphen has suffered. The position of the church, close to the fortifications, as Blaeu's bird's-eye view shews, makes this story probable. The floor is paved with red tiles. The general appearance of the room will be understood from the view of the north aisle reduced from a photograph (fig. 53)[314].

There are eighteen bookcases, or desks; namely, ten on the south side of the room, and eight on the north side (fig. 52). The material is oak; the workmanship very rude and rough. I will describe those on the south side first. Each is 9 feet long by 5 feet 5¼ inches high, measured from the floor to the top of the finial on the end; and the lower edge of the desk on which the books lie is 2 feet 6¼ inches above the floor; but the general plan, and the relative dimensions of the different parts, will be best understood from the photograph of a single desk at which a reader is seated (fig. 54), and from the elevation of one of the ends (fig. 55, A), beside which I have placed the elevation of one of the desks at Queens' College (B). The photograph shews that in fixing the height of the desk above the ground the convenience of readers has been carefully considered. The iron bar that carries the chains is locked into the ornamental upright, passes through a staple in the middle of the desk, and into the upright at the opposite end, which is left plain. This bar is half an inch in diameter, and one inch above the level of the top of the desk. It is prevented from bending by passing through a staple fixed in the centre of the desk. A piece of ornamental iron-work is fixed to the upright. It is made to represent a lock, but is in reality a mere plate of metal, and the tongue, which looks as though it were intended to move, is only an ornament, and is pierced by the keyhole. The lock is sunk in the thickness of the wood, behind this plate, and the bar, which terminates in a knob, is provided with two nicks, into which the bolts of the lock are shot when the key is turned (fig. 56). Between each pair of desks there is a seat for the reader.

The desks on the north side of the room differ slightly from those on the south side. They are rather larger, the ends are of a different shape and devoid of ornament (fig. 57), and there is a wider interval between the bar and the top of the desk. It seems to me probable that the more highly ornamented desks are those which were put in when the room was first fitted up, and that the others were added from time to time as new books had to be accommodated.

The books are attached to the desk by the following process. A chain was taken about 12 inches long, more or less, consisting of long narrow links of hammered iron. These links exactly resemble, both in shape and size, those of a chain which may still be seen in the library of the Grammar School at Guildford, Surrey[316]. This chain, of which a piece is here figured (fig. 58), was probably made in 1586, or only 23 years after the building of the library at Zutphen. It terminates, like those at Zutphen (fig. 59), in a swivel (to prevent entanglement), attached to the ring which is strung upon the bar. The attachment of the chain to the book was effected by means of a piece of metal bent round so as to form a loop through which the last link of the chain was passed. The ends of the loop, flattened out, were attached by nail or rivet to the edge of the stout wooden board which formed the side of the book. This mode of attachment will be best seen in the volume which I figure next (fig. 60)—a collection of sermons printed at Nuremberg in 1487. It is believed to have once belonged to a Dominican House at Bamberg, in the library of which it was chained[317].

The iron loop in this specimen (fig. 60) is fastened to what I call the right-hand board of the book; by which I mean the board which is to the right hand of a reader when the book lies open before him; but the selection of the right-hand or the left-hand board depended on individual taste. Further the mode of attachment is never the same in two examples. The iron and rivets are often clumsy, and do considerable damage to the leaves, by forcing them out of shape and staining them with rust.

In this method of chaining no provision is made for removing any book from the desk when not wanted, and placing it on a shelf beneath the desk, as was done in some Italian modifications of the system. Each volume must lie on the desk, attached by its chain, like a Bible on a church-lectern. The smallest number of volumes on any desk at Zutphen is six; the largest, eleven; the total, 316. Most of those on the south side of the room were printed during the first half of the sixteenth century; those on the north side are much later, some as late as 1630. I did not see any manuscripts.

If we now reconsider the indications preserved at Queens' College, it will, I feel sure, be recognised that the desks at Zutphen explain them, and enable us to realise the aspect of what I conceive to have been the most ancient method of fitting up a collegiate or a monastic library. When such a room first became necessary in a monastery, and furniture suitable for it was debated, a lectern would surely suggest itself, as being used in the numerous daily services, and proving itself singularly convenient for the support of books while they were being read.

Another example of such fittings was once to be seen at Pembroke College, Cambridge, in the library above the hall (fig. 48). In Dr Matthew Wren's account of that library already quoted there is a passage which may be translated as follows:

These desks were copied at S. John's College in the same University. A contract dated 20 June, 1516, provides that the contractor

The Library here referred to was on the first floor to the south of the Great Gate of the college. It is now divided into chambers, but its original extent can be readily made out by its range of equidistant windows. The wall-spaces dividing these are 28½ inches wide, practically the same as those at Queens' College.

At Peterhouse also a similar arrangement seems to have subsisted when the catalogue of 1418 was made. The very first book, a Bible, is said to stand "in the sixth lectern on the west side (lectrino 6^o ex parte occidentali)." The word lectrinum is unusual, but it emphasizes the form of the desk more clearly than any other.

A splendid example of this type of case is to be seen at Lincoln (fig. 61), where three "stalls" or desks, belonging to the old library already described[320], are still preserved. Each is about 7 ft. long, 3 ft. broad, and 4 ft. 4 in. high to the top of the sloping portion. At each end, and in the centre, is a massive molded standard, 7 ft. 2 in. high, terminating in a boldly carved finial; and these three standards are connected together by a band of open-work, of a design similar to that of the cornice of the library. Half way between this band and the top of the desk is the bar to carry the chains, now of wood, but formerly of course of iron; and below this again is a shelf 18 in. wide, projecting slightly beyond the sloping portion of the desk. The edge of the desk is protected by a ledge, as usual, and under it is a second shelf extending the whole width of the piece of furniture. What was the use of these shelves? As the bar is above the desk, not below it, the books must have reposed, as a general rule, upon the desk, instead of being laid on their sides on the shelf below it when not wanted by a reader. The chains would not have been long enough to allow of any other arrangement. I think, therefore, that the lower shelf must have been a constructional contrivance, to assist in keeping the standards in their places. The narrow upper shelf, on the other hand, was probably intended for the convenience of the reader. He might place on it, temporarily, any book that he was not using, and which got in his way while he was reading one of those beside it; or, if he was making extracts, he might set his inkstand upon it.

These desks evidently stood in the old library against the shafts of the roof, for one of the ends has been hollowed out in each to receive the shaft; and the finial, which is left plain on that side, is bent over slightly, to admit it under the brace (fig. 39).

As I have now described three varieties of the lectern-system, I will place before my readers, side by side, elevations of each of the three (fig. 62) drawn to the same scale. It will be seen that they resemble each other exactly in essentials. The differences observable are accidental, and may be referred to individual taste.

That this form of desk was recognised on the continent as typical of library-fittings is proved by its appearance in a French translation of the first book of the Consolation of Philosophy of Boethius, which I had the good fortune to find in the British Museum[321] (fig. 63). This manuscript was written in Flanders towards the end of the fifteenth century. In such a work the library shewn requires what I may term generalised fittings. An eccentric peculiarity would have been quite inadmissible.

In the Stadtbibliothek of Nuremberg some of the oldest works on jurisprudence still preserve their chains. Each has a short chain about 12 in. long fixed on the upper edge of the left-hand board. The title is written on the middle of the upper edge of the right-hand board. It is obvious that these volumes must have lain on a desk with their titles uppermost[322].

It is probable that similar fittings were used in the library of the Sorbonne, Paris, which was first established in 1289, with books chained for the common convenience of the Fellows (in communem sociorum utilitatem)[323]. This library was divided into two separate collections, which formed, so to speak, two distinct libraries. The first, called the great library, or the common library, contained the books most frequently studied. They were chained, and could only be taken out under the most exceptional circumstances. A statute, dated 1321, the provisions of which recall the collegiate statutes summarised above, directed that the best book the society possessed on each subject should be thus chained. The second division of the library, called the small library, contained duplicates, books rarely consulted, and generally all those of which the loan was authorised under certain conditions[324]. The following description of this library has been given by Claude HÉmÉrÉ (Librarian 1638-43) in his MS. history. This I proceed to translate:

This description indicates desks similar to those of Zutphen. Even the height is the same.

A library which vividly recalls the above account, with 19 windows on one side and probably the same number on the other, was built in 1506 for the CollÈge de Navarre, Paris, now the École Polytechnique[326]. My illustration (fig. 64) is from a photograph taken shortly before its destruction in 1867. I have calculated that it was about 108 ft. long by 30 ft. wide.

The library of the CollÈge d'Autun, Paris, was similarly arranged. An inventory taken 29 July, 1462, records: "dix bancs doubles, À se seoir d'une part et d'autre, et ung poupitre; esquelz bancs et poupitre out estÉ trouvez enchaisnez les livres qui s'ensuyvent, qui sont intitulez sur la couverture d'iceulx[327]." The catalogue enumerates 174 volumes, or rather more than 17 for each "banc" or lectern. The expression bancs doubles is interesting, as it seems to imply that there were at that time libraries in which bancs simples were used; that is to say, lecterns with only one sloping surface instead of two.

A study of the catalogue drawn up in 1513 for the Augustinian House of S. Victor, Paris, by Claude de Grandrue, one of the monks, shews that the same system must have been in use there. Further, his catalogue is an excellent specimen of the pains taken in a large monastery to describe the books accurately, and to provide ready access to them. A brief prefatory note informs us that the desks are arranged in three rows, and marked with a triple series of letters. The first row is marked A, B, C, etc.; the second AA, BB, etc.; the third AAA, BBB, etc. To each of these letters are appended the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on, to shew the position of the required volume. For instance—to take one at random—AbÆlardi confessio is marked P. 13: that is, it is the thirteenth book on the desk in the first row marked P. When the catalogue proper—in which each manuscript is carefully described—was finished, the author increased its usefulness by the composition of an alphabetical index[328].

How, I shall be asked, can the form of the bookcase or desk (pulpitum) be inferred from this catalogue? I reply: In the first place, because there are no shelf-marks. The librarian notes the letter of the desk, and the place of each book on it, but nothing more. Secondly, because the number of manuscripts accommodated on each desk is so small. There are 50 desks, and 988 manuscripts—or, an average of little more than 19 to each. At Zutphen the average is exactly 18. This piece of evidence, however, is so important that I will give it in detail. The following table, compiled by myself from the catalogue, gives the letters used to mark the desks, and the number of manuscripts on each.

These totals give a general total of 988 manuscripts, which, divided by 50, makes the average number for each desk, as stated above, 19?76.

Further, my theory is supported by the positive evidence of a description of this library (unfortunately without date) quoted by M. Delisle: "Les livres estoient couchez et enchaisnez, sur de longs pupitres, et une allÉe entre deux[329]." It is obvious that the English system of placing each lectern between a pair of windows could not have been maintained here.

At Queens' College, Cambridge, the catalogue, dated 1472, enumerates 192 volumes, divided over 10 desks and 4 half-desks, each called a step (gradus). There were (avoiding fractions) 8 books on each half-desk, and 15 on each complete desk; so that by comparing the plan (fig. 50) and elevation of a desk (fig. 51) with the views of the library at Zutphen, a good idea of a college library in the fifteenth century can be obtained.

Before I leave the lectern-system, I will describe two eccentric specimens of it. The first is still to be seen at Trinity Hall, Cambridge; the second once existed at the University of Leyden.

The library of Trinity Hall is thoroughly medieval in plan, being a long narrow room on the first floor of the north side of the second court, 65 feet long by 20 feet wide, with eight equidistant windows in each side-wall, and a window of four lights in the western gable. It was built about 1600, but the fittings are even later, having been added between 1626 and 1645 during the mastership of Thomas Eden, LL.D. They are therefore a deliberate return to ancient forms at a time when a different type had been adopted elsewhere.

There are five desks and six seats on each side of the room, placed, as usual, at right angles to the side-walls, in the inter spaces of the windows, and in front of the windows, respectively. Their arrangement, and the details of their construction, will be understood from the general view (fig. 65), and from the elevation (fig. 66).

These lecterns are of oak, 6 feet 7 inches long, and 7 feet high, measured to the top of the ornamental finial. There is a sloping desk at the top, beneath which is a single shelf (fig. 66, A). The bar for the chains passes under the desk, through the two vertical ends of the case. At the end farthest from the wall, the hasp of the lock is hinged to the bar and secured by two keys (fig. 67). Beneath the shelf there is at either end a slip of wood (fig. 66, B), which indicates that there was once a moveable desk which could be pulled out when required. The reader could therefore consult his convenience, and work either sitting or standing (fig. 65). For both these positions the heights are very suitable, and at the bottom of the case was a plinth (fig. 66, C), on which he could set his feet. The seats between each pair of desks were of course put up at the same time as the desks themselves. They shew an advance in comfort, being divided into two, so as to allow support to the reader's back.

Similar desks occur in a beautiful miniature (fig. 68) from a manuscript (now in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge[330]) written in France about 1480. They appear to be solid—possibly fitted with cupboards for books under the sloping portion. No seats are shewn, and, as a reader is standing between them consulting a book, it may be concluded that they could only be used by students in that position.

Lastly, I reproduce (fig. 69) a print by Jan Cornelis Woudanus, shewing the library of the University of Leyden in 1610[331]. The bookcases were evidently contrived with the view of getting the largest number possible into the room. Each contained a single row of books, chained to a bar in front of the shelf; and, also for the purpose of saving the space usually occupied by a seat, readers were obliged to consult them standing. There are eleven bookcases on each side of the room, each containing from 40 to 48 volumes. At the end of the room are two cupboards, probably for manuscripts; and to the right of the spectator is a third press, marked Legatum Josephi Scaligeri. He died in January, 1609. Further, as an illustration of the usual appliances for study found in libraries at this period, and often mentioned in catalogues and account-books, I would draw attention to the globes and maps.

I present these bookcases at this point of my researches with some diffidence, for they can hardly be said to represent the lectern-system. On the other hand, they do not exactly represent any other; and I therefore submit that they may be looked at here, as transitional specimens, bridging over the interval between the desks we have lately been considering, and those which we shall have to consider in the next chapter.