'Many, no doubt, have perished with the bindings to which they were fastened, but some are doubtless still extant; and we may yet hope that, when the interest in these labels becomes more widely diffused, more than one or two specimens will be brought to light, bearing an engraved date sufficiently early to dispel the idea that this country was a century and a half behind its German neighbours in the general practice of using book-plates.'

Mr. Daniel Parsons, who may be properly called the father of book-plate literature,—his contribution, in 1837, to 'The Third Annual Report of the Oxford University ArchÆological and Heraldic Society,' was certainly the first paper on the subject that ever appeared,—commented on this hope of mine in the number of the same magazine issued in the following January, and was despondent as to evidence being forthcoming to prove the early use of book-plates in England.

Well, in that I expressed the belief that investigation would bring to light a number of sixteenth and seventeenth century dated book-plates, I was perhaps wrong—early English dated book-plates have not been found in anything approaching plenty; but I was also wrong in suggesting that proof of the early use of book-plates in this country could only be proved by dated examples; the existence of examples which, from internal evidence, are proved to be of early date is really equally valuable; and as these have certainly come to light in considerable numbers, I think a good case has been made out on behalf of our fellow-countrymen.

I do not pretend that early English book-plates are so plentiful as those of Germany. Some individual specimens are known to exist; but there are very few that are recorded as existing in more than a few collections, and some are unique. From some cause or other, early English book-plates are a rarity; and I propose, therefore, to speak individually of the majority of them,—that is to say, of those executed prior to the close of the seventeenth century.

But before doing this, let me say a word as to the date at which the colours intended to be shown on the shield of arms were first represented by lines or points. For instance, perpendicular lines from the top to the bottom of the shield, thus:

A number of small dots or points, thus:

To whom may be attached the credit of inventing this useful system, matters little; what we are now interested in—for the purpose of considering the approximate dates of book-plates—is the time at which it was first employed in heraldic engravings. Mr. Walter Hamilton, in the pages of the Ex Libris Journal, realises the importance of the subject. He speaks of the work by Father Silvester Petra-Sancta, published at Rome in 1638, in which the proposal is advocated, and refers to M. Henri Bouchot's allusion to a work by Vulsson de la ColombiÈre, written in 1639, which advocates the system.

That, at an earlier date, lines running all in one direction were used only as shading, is shown over and over again. Take, for instance, the book-plate of Francis de Malherbe (reproduced over leaf), which, as the owner died in 1628, was engraved, probably, soon after the opening of the century. In this case we have a statement by De Malherbe that his arms are 'D'argent À six roses de gueules, et des hermines de sable sans nombre,'—a description obviously inaccurate. De Malherbe was a poet, and could no more be expected to describe a coat of arms than 'Garter' could be expected to write a poem. The proper blazoning of his family arms is: ermine, six roses gules. But, according to the lines depicted on his book-plate, the 'field' would be azure: clearly, in this case, the lines mean nothing at all.

The late Mr. J. E. Bailey points out that in the 1562, 1568, and 1576 editions of Gerard Legh's Accedens of Armory, sable (black) is expressed, as it would be now, by horizontal and perpendicular lines crossing each other; whilst the other colours are represented by the initials of their names. It is possible that this form of expressing sable may be merely the result of an attempt on the part of the engraver to produce as dark a tint as possible to represent it. In Vincent's Discovery of Brooke's Errors, 1622, such lines are certainly used as shading, or to distinguish colour from white; but, as shown from his verbal description of the arms he represents, these lines are used without any system whatever, perpendicular lines sometimes representing gules, and sometimes azure. Again, in the second edition of Guillim's Display, 1632, lines are used to denote the darker colours, though they are used without system. But in 1654, we find, in Bysshe's heraldic tracts, gules, azure, sable, and the rest expressed in the now orthodox manner, and an explanatory plate showing what colours are represented by the respective dots or lines, a conclusive proof of the novelty of the system in England. I think the reader will see, as he proceeds, that this has been a useful digression.

We have said that the earliest English book-plate yet come to light is Cardinal Wolsey's. This is not a printed book-plate at all, but a carefully drawn sketch of the Cardinal's arms, with supporters, and surmounted by a Cardinal's hat, the whole coloured by hand. How many of these book-plates the Cardinal possessed, we do not know; but that this—the only example known—is undoubtedly a book-plate, is proved from the fact that it may now be seen in a folio volume which once belonged to Wolsey, and subsequently to his royal master. It bears no date, and may have been designed any time after the minister's elevation to the cardinalate in September 1514. It is a splendid affair in every way, and gorgeously coloured. The shield of arms rests on a platform (gold), the front of which is red, ornamented with an arabesque pattern, also red; pillars on the platform support a canopy, ornamented as the front of the platform, with the addition of Tudor roses; over the shield is the Cardinal's hat, and above that again the holy dove descends. The shield is supported by two dingy-looking griffins, whose wings and heads are red, and whose beaks, claws, and tail-tips are gold; the background is blue.

Next in date, after Wolsey's book-plate, comes that which was, I believe, engraved at least contemporaneously with the date upon it, 1574, to place in the volumes given in that year by Sir Nicholas Bacon to the University of Cambridge. Bacon died five years after this date; he is familiar to us all as 'the father of his country and of Sir Francis Bacon.' This book-plate is engraved on wood; like Wolsey's, it is found coloured, but it is also—amongst the odds and ends in the Bagford Collection—found uncoloured, and without the inscription which records the gift to Cambridge. A facsimile of that in the Bagford Collection appears opposite: can it be the book-plate of Bacon himself, to which, on the copies used for the books that he gave to Cambridge, was added the donatory inscription? A close comparison shows that both shields of arms are struck from the same block. The arms shown are Bacon quartering Quaplode. The variety of this book-plate which bears the inscription belongs to what are termed 'gift' or 'legacy' book-plates, the dates on which—as they refer to the date of the 'gift' or 'legacy' commemorated—are considered earlier than the engraving. In the case of 'legacy' book-plates they may often be so, but they are not, I think, in many cases of 'gift' book-plates. For instance, if (as from the Bagford example seems probable) this was Bacon's own book-plate, the date upon it, 1574, may even be many years later than the time at which it was made for him. That the date on one of these 'gift' book-plates must be, within a very short space of time, the date of its engraving, will be shown presently when I come to speak of that recording a donation made by Lady Bath.

The next English book-plate which bears upon it an engraved date is that of Sir Thomas Tresham. On this the inscription reads 'June 29, 1585,' which no doubt refers to the date of engraving, or, probably, to the date at which the design for the engraving was finished by the artist. As a work of art it is poor, but its interest as a book-plate to collectors is not lessened on that account. Tresham was knighted by Queen Elizabeth ten years before the date of his book-plate. We know not much of him, save what Fuller tells us that he was famous for 'his skill in buildings.' One of his sons, Sir Francis, was involved in the Gunpowder Plot, and another, Sir Lewis, was made a baronet in 1611.

These three examples are all the sixteenth century English dated book-plates yet brought to light. Those in the seventeenth century are far more numerous. We find one bearing the date '1613,' which was prepared to place in the volumes given, in that year, by William Willmer, a Northamptonshire squire, to his college library. The inscription on it reads: 'Sydney Sussex Colledge—Ex dono Wilhelmi Willmer de Sywell in Com. NorthamtoniÆ, Armigeri, quondam pentionarii in ista Domi (sic), viz. in Anno DÑi 1599; sed dedit in Ano DÑi 1613.' The book-plate is clearly early, and shows us fine bold heraldic work. In style it nearly resembles the Bacon plate, and that of Sir Thomas Tresham; but the mantling here descends to the base of the shield. The Willmer plate is in Dr. Howard's Collection; a reproduction of it is given in Mr. Griggs's Examples of Armorial Book-Plates.

Early in the reign of Charles I. may be placed a very beautiful example of heraldic engraving, which Sir Wollaston Franks satisfactorily assigns to a certain John Talbot of Thorneton, who died in 1659. It is inscribed 'Coll. Talbott,' and this John Talbot is called 'Colonellus ex parte Regis'; the quarterings are those of the families of Ferrers, Bellars, and Arderne.

In strange contrast to this fine work is the wood block book-plate of 'William Courtenay of Treemer, in the county of Cornwall, Esquire,' who, in 1632, inherited the Treemer estate. We may note that, not only is this book-plate, like all those yet described, free from any indication of lines or dots to express the colours in the armorial bearings, but below the shield is given a verbal blazon of the coat: 'He beareth or, 3 Torteauxes.'

This seems to be the place to speak of a very puzzling pair of engravings, which certainly appear to have been used as book-plates, dated in 1630. They represent the armorial bearings of Sir Edward Dering. One of these book-plates which I take to be the earlier, shows a less number of quarterings, and contains no indication of a really systematic expression of the metals and tinctures in the arms; but the other and later example does. The same date appears upon each. The second of the two plates occurs bound up in a volume of the Harleian Collection of MSS.; and 'Mr. Humphrey Wanly, library-keeper to Robert and Edward, Earls of Oxford,' in his description of the specimen in the Harleian Collection, calls it 'A printed cut of the Arms or Atchievement of Sir Edward Dering, Baronet, dated A.D. 1630, with a fanciful motto in misshapen Saxon characters; but by the hatching of the arms in order to show the colours, according to the way found out by Sir Edward Bysshe, I guess that it is not so old.'

Now, the Harleian volume, in which this engraving occurs, is a copy, written in 1645-46, of the Heralds' Visitation of Kent in 1619; and in a later, but certainly seventeenth century, handwriting, is a description of the numerous quarterings as they appear on the engraving; so that, whilst rejecting the claim of this variety of the plate to be an engraving of 1630, we may, I think, accept it as at least an early example of the indication of the colours and tinctures by lines and dots. As for the first of the two varieties, I do not see why it should not be as early as the date upon it; there was no particular reason in selecting that date; for I do not find that it refers to any special event in Sir Edward's life. A writer to Notes and Queries, in 1851, states that there were several 'loose copies' of the plate—which variety, he does not say—in the Surrenden Collection, and Dr. Howard saw it 'inserted' in several folio volumes of that collection, when it was disposed of by Messrs. Puttick and Simpson. Very good facsimiles of these book-plates have been given by Dr. Howard in his Miscellanea Genealogica et Heraldica.

Another early instance of the expression of the metals and tinctures occurs in the book-plate of Lord-Keeper Lyttelton, a plate which derives additional interest from the fact of its being the work of William Marshall, the famous frontispiece engraver. Sir Edward Lyttelton, the owner of the book-plate, was made Lord-Keeper in 1641, under the title of Baron Lyttelton of Mounslow. This book-plate, which shows us the arms of Lyttelton of Frankley, was evidently engraved before Sir Edward's elevation to the peerage. The book-plate, which is the earliest English example bearing an engraver's signature, may be dated about 1640.

We know from the arms on dedication plates, and the like, that the expression of colours on shields did not become at all general for many years after 1640. Take, for instance, Hollar's cuts of arms in the illustrations to Dugdale's Monasticon, or his History of St. Paul's. Thus, we must not date every book-plate we find, on which the colours are not shown in the new fashion, as before 1640. The small and unpretentious book-plate of John Marsham of Whom's Place, near Cuxton, in Kent, is an illustration of this. A representation of it is given by Mr. Griggs in his Facsimiles. Marsham was made a baronet in 1663; so the plate is earlier than that, but as it is exactly in the style of the dedicatory plates in the works just noticed, we may place it somewhere about 1655. It is perhaps by Hollar. Likely enough, other examples will come to light.

After the Restoration, the number of English book-plates perceptibly increases, though we must remember that the active supporters of Cromwell did not object to a little heraldic display—there was a fair amount of heraldic work one way and another, executed both with pen and pencil, during the twelve years that the king was kept off his throne. Two of the earliest post-Restoration book-plates are those of Sir Edward Bysshe and his brother-in-law, John Greene. Sir Edward Bysshe became Garter King-at-Arms, and John Greene was of Navestock, Essex. Both are curious oblong plates, having fancifully shaped shields surrounded by palm branches, and held up by ribbons. There is no crest shown in either. They are evidently by the same artist, which, as Bysshe and Greene were brothers-in-law, is perhaps natural. A somewhat similar, though plainer, form of ornamentation surrounds the shields on two other anonymous book-plates, one bearing the arms of Southwell, and the other those of Eynes or Haynes.

Thomas Gore of Alderton, Wilts, the author of Catalogus de Re HeraldicÂ, is a man who might be expected to use a book-plate, and he did. Three varieties are known. The first, which dates about 1660, though a more elaborate piece of work than those last described, is somewhat similar in style, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say dissimilar to the style in which other book-plates prior to the Restoration were designed. Whoever engraved this plate for Gore also engraved the arms of Edward Waterhouse—most probably the engraving was intended for Waterhouse's book-plate—which appear as a frontispiece to his Discourse and Defence of Arms and Armory, 1660. In his second book-plate Gore called to his aid the foreigner's art, employing Michael Burghers, a Dutch artist, who had recently come from Holland and settled at Oxford. Michael produced the book-plate figured opposite, which introduces some rather wild allegory, singularly plain cupids seated on the backs of flying eagles. Perhaps Gore did not care for this allegory,—allegory seems never to have been popular with English book-plate owners (see Chapter IV.),—and for his third plate went to an Englishman, and to a no less eminent one than William Faithorne. The famous portrait-engraver produced as beautiful and bold a book-plate in the Simple Armorial style as could well be: the peculiar 'depth' of his touch is apparent here and in his other book-plates, of which there are several.

It is interesting to note that Faithorne reverts to the pre-Restoration style, and improves upon it. The mantling is much richer than that shown in earlier examples in the same style, and it more completely surrounds the shield. To Faithorne may be assigned two other magnificent book-plates, that of Sir George Hungerford of Cadenham (anonymous), and the one here reproduced of a member of the family of Marriott of Whitchurch, Warwickshire, and Alscot and Preston, Gloucestershire.[4] The Hungerford book-plate is noteworthy. The name of Sir George Hungerford, its possessor, does not occur in any list of baronets, yet he evidently considered himself to possess that dignity, as the 'bloody hand of Ulster' figures on his arms. Dugdale, too, in speaking of Sir George's marriage, refers to him as 'baronet.' Faithorne also produced a book-plate to commemorate a gift of books made by Bishop Hacket, who died in 1670—it is particularly curious as showing us the Bishop's portrait. I shall speak of it later on, under the heading 'Portrait Book-Plates' (pp. 216-220); such plates are comparatively few in number.

Dated, and most probably engraved, in the following year, 1671, is another 'gift' book-plate, prepared to place in books presented by the then Countess-Dowager of Bath. The inscription reads: 'Ex dono Rachel ComitissÆ Bathon: DotariÆ An: Dom. MDCLXXI.' This lady was born in 1613; she was a daughter of Francis Fane, first Earl of Westmoreland, and became the wife of Henry Bourchier, Earl of Bath, who died in 1654; and soon afterwards of Lionel Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex, who died in 1674; she herself dying in 1680. There is no reason to doubt the date on this book-plate, 1671, though, at first sight, it may look a little suspicious. True, she had become the wife of the Earl of Middlesex (a title only dating from 1622) in 1654, and was still his wife in 1671; but she had apparently little reason to be proud of him or his title, for he left her and made hay of her fortune, spending it to use the words of a contemporary letter,[5] 'in play and rioting.' We cannot, therefore, feel much surprised at her desire to pass by her former title which would give her rank at court as the widow of an Earl whose creation was hard on a century earlier. 'Our cousin, Lady Bath,' writes Lady Newport, in April 1661, 'hath got her place of being Lady Bath again; it cost her 1,200l ... her Lord is very angry at her changing her title; he says it is an affront to him.' That is why she calls herself, on the book-plate under notice, Countess-Dowager of Bath in 1671. A curious feature about the book-plate is, that it does not seem to have been prepared to place in books included in one particular gift to a particular person or institution, but rather to have been the outcome of my lady's fancy to place such a remembrance of herself in any volume she gave away at that or at any subsequent date. The Countess also used a book-stamp of the same design as the ex libris, but without the inscription.

Whilst speaking on the subject of gift book-plates, reference may appropriately be made to a curious woodcut used as a book-plate by the St. Albans Grammar School, which is figured opposite the next page. It is a quaint bit of, no doubt, local work, and, as pointed out to me by the Rev. F. Willcox, the headmaster, during a long and dusty hunt, occurs only in the volumes given to the school by Sir Samuel Grimston. The plate shows us a combination of the arms of the city of St. Albans and the motto of the Bacon family, adopted by the Grimstons.

I have no doubt that, if a thorough investigation of the too often neglected libraries of our old foundation grammar schools were made, other early and curious book-plates might be discovered.

Between 1670 and 1680 quite a number of book-plates were designed, evidently by the same man. The work is feeble, but it is very distinct. The most interesting of these book-plates, from its possessor, is that of Samuel Pepys. Altogether, I know of eight examples: Charles Pitfield, Sir Robert Southwell, William Wharton, Sir Henry Hunloke, Samuel Pepys, Justinian Pagit, Walter Chetwynd, and Randolph Egerton.

A point of interest about them all is that, as well as expressing heraldically the blazon of the different shields, they also indicate with an initial letter the colour intended to be shown: 'a' for argent, 'g' for gules, and so on. The initial of the heraldic term is used in every case except that of 'azure,' when 'b' for blue is used; 'a,' as we have seen, standing for argent.

Though they differ in the arrangement of the mantling, there can be little doubt that all these book-plates are by the same hand, and that whoever engraved the plates in Blome's Gwilim, engraved these also.

The book-plate of 'Fettiplace Nott,' which bears the date 1694, is a fair type of the book-plate that was in use in England for the next twenty years; indeed, these might all be the work of half a dozen artists.

I have not yet mentioned a very numerous and very uninteresting class of early English book-plates—I mean those which are nothing more than 'name-tickets'—the owner's name and date printed within a border more or less ornate. These occur quite early in the seventeenth century, and run all through it. Of course, it may be that the owner is an interesting person, and then his or her name-ticket becomes interesting by reflection, but in themselves these tickets are merely dull. Of English Armorial plates, I have referred in detail to the majority of those bearing an engraved date—when that date is not obviously misleading—prior to the year 1698. I have also spoken of several, though by no means all, of the undated examples, which have been proved to belong to the seventeenth century. To this second list a patient working out of the internal evidence on early-looking, but undated, book-plates would, no doubt, add very considerably; and the illustrations, verbal and otherwise, that I have given may, I hope, be sufficient to indicate the kind of book-plates that are worth such investigation.

I have used the date 1698 as a stopping-point, because from that year we have dated examples of English book-plates, yearly, down to the commencement of the present century. Here let me say a word on the subject of dated book-plates generally. The date is certainly an advantage, especially when it clearly refers to the date of the engraving, and not, as we have seen it sometimes does, to an event in the owner's career; but I cannot understand why the 'market value' of a book-plate should be enhanced to such an extent as it is by the presence on that book-plate of an engraved date. There are probably few book-plates which do not bear some mark by which an approximate date can be safely affixed to them, and the study of these marks is a very desirable undertaking. The great value of a printed date on a book-plate is that one can see from it the style of decoration in vogue at a particular period, and thus obtain the means for arranging, chronologically, undated examples. For there were during certain years certain marked styles of decoration adopted by book-plate engravers; but of these I propose to speak later on under the heading of 'Styles.'

Let me also mention misleading dates on book-plates, and for this purpose it will be sufficient if I take principally the examples cited by Mr. J. Paul Rylands, F.S.A., in his Notes on Lancashire and Cheshire examples. The date on Sir William St. Quintin's book-plate, 1641, is that at which the baronetcy was created; the book-plate was engraved in the last century. Sir Francis Fust's book-plate, one remarkable for its size and ugliness, is inscribed 'S^r Francis Fust of Hill Court in the county of Gloucester, Baronet, created 21st August 1662, the 14 year of King Charles 2d.' Now this plate cannot be earlier than 1728, the year in which the first 'Sir Francis' succeeded to the baronetcy. Here, however, the context of words, 'created 21st August 1662,' renders the inscription less likely to mislead people into supposing that 1662 was the year in which the plate was executed. In other instances we have not this help.

The date 1669, on the book-plate of Gilbert Nicholson of Balrath, merely refers to the date at which Gilbert acquired his Irish estates; the example itself must be later than 1722, as the same copper was employed for it as that on which the book-plate of Thomas Carter, dated in that year, had been engraved. Again, some collectors hold, and have maintained in print, that the book-plate of Sir Robert Clayton, of which we must speak again hereafter, was not really engraved in 1679—the date which appears upon it. 1679 is the year in which Sir Robert was Lord Mayor of London, and it is thought probable that the book-plate was engraved later—perhaps in the early years of the eighteenth century, when, as we have seen, the fashion of having a book-plate was so prevalent—and that Sir Robert placed the date 1679 upon it in order to commemorate the date of his mayoralty. For my part, I see no particular reason for holding this view; the style in which the plate is executed does not seem to me contradictory to the date upon it. Still, as the doubt exists, it is better to mention it.

Attention has been called to a book-plate of 'David Paynter of Dale Castle, Pembrokeshire, 1679,' which is probably nearly a century later. The book-plate of 'William Twemlow of Hatherton, Cheshire, Esquire, 1686,' was engraved for a Mr. William Twemlow, who died in 1843.

On the other hand, there are certain book-plates which were engraved earlier than the dates which appear upon some impressions of them. The book-plate of the statesman Charles James Fox (see opposite) is one instance of this. It is inscribed 'The Hon^ble Charles James Fox,' and was used by the great statesman, but the plate was engraved in 1702—as its style suggests—for his half-uncle, and the inscription, before its alteration, read:—'Charles Fox of the parish of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, Esq., 1702.'

There is a large book-plate, shown by its style to have been engraved in the early years of the eighteenth century, but which is inscribed 'Martin Stapylton, Esq. of Myton, in the county of York, A.D. 1817.' The book-plate was evidently engraved for Sir Bryan Stapylton, who died in 1727. The Martin Stapylton who altered and used it was one Martin Bree—nephew of the last baronet, who died in 1817—who succeeded to his uncle's property, but not to his baronetcy; hence he was not justified in leaving the helmet of a knight or baronet upon it; he removed the 'bloody hand of Ulster' from the shield, but the mistake in the helmet does not seem to have struck him. On a small variety of this book-plate, the inscription on which is similarly altered, the 'bloody hand' remains.

Again, the book-plate of 'S^r Will^m Robinson, Baronett, of Newby, in the county of York, 1702,' was altered—by turning the '0' into a '6'—into 1762, and was used by his grandson; that inscribed 'John Peachey, 1782,' designed in the Chippendale style, is quite twenty years earlier; and that of 'Fr. Dickens Armig. 1795,' was certainly engraved half a century before.

During the ten or twelve years immediately following the year 1698, the number of English dated book-plates is exceedingly large. Taking the list printed for private distribution by Sir Wollaston Franks in 1887, we find sixteen examples in 1698; seven in 1699; fifteen in 1700; sixteen in 1701; forty-four in 1702; fifty-eight in 1703; twenty-seven in 1704; and many, but not so many, in the succeeding years. Something—what, I have failed to discover—must have given a stimulus to the fashion of using book-plates just at the close of the seventeenth and opening of the eighteenth century; and not only to using them, but also to putting a date on those used. It is a fact that it is more rare to find book-plates engraved in this particular style without dates than with them.

The fashion of 'dating,' as a rule, went out about the year 1714, about the time at which, as we shall see, a new 'style' in book-plates became generally adopted. Anonymous book-plates are rare after this date, though, both in England and on the Continent, they were, in early times, certainly common—a fact which bears silent testimony to the much greater intimacy which people in the good old days had with their neighbours' armorial bearings. The coat of arms of a man of position was almost as well known to those dwelling about him as were the features of his face; and if a volume, having within it an Armorial book-plate, happened to be found in wrongful custody, the finder might recognise the heraldry of the owner, even if he could not read the inscription recording that ownership.

So much for the early use of book-plates in England. In the next chapter I propose to say something about the leading styles of decoration employed by their designers.