The Project Gutenberg EBook of Enemies of Books, by William Blades This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Enemies of Books Author: William Blades Release Date: August 26, 2008 [EBook #1302] Last Updated: January 25, 2013 Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENEMIES OF BOOKS *** Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger
ae, L, e, [:], OE, [/], '0, and n "Larsen" encodes. eS = superscripted e (16th cent. english on p9 needs proofed!) [oe] denotes words in 'olde englishe font' "Emphasis" italics have a * mark. Footnotes (#) have not been re-numbered, they are moved to EOParagraph. Greek letters are encoded in [gr] brackets, and the letters are based on Adobe's Symbol font.
(1) The received opinion is that the "pieces of silver" here mentioned
were Roman denarii, which were the silver pieces then commonly used in
Ephesus. If now we weigh a denarius against modern silver, it is exactly
equal to ninepence, and fifty thousand times ninepence gives L1,875.
It is always a difficult matter to arrive at a just estimate of the
relative value of the same coin in different ages; but reckoning that
money then had at least ten times the purchasing value of money now, we
arrive at what was probably about the value of the magical books burnt,
viz.: L18,750.
The ruins of Ephesus bear unimpeachable evidence that the City was very
extensive and had magnificent buildings. It was one of the free cities,
governing itself. Its trade in shrines and idols was very extensive, being
spread through all known lands. There the magical arts were remarkably
prevalent, and notwithstanding the numerous converts made by the early
Christians, the [gr 'Efesia grammata], or little scrolls upon which magic
sentences were written, formed an extensive trade up to the fourth
century. These "writings" were used for divination, as a protection
against the "evil eye," and generally as charms against all evil. They
were carried about the person, so that probably thousands of them were
thrown into the flames by St. Paul's hearers when his glowing words
convinced them of their superstition.
Imagine an open space near the grand Temple of Diana, with fine buildings
around. Slightly raised above the crowd, the Apostle, preaching with great
power and persuasion concerning superstition, holds in thrall the
assembled multitude. On the outskirts of the crowd are numerous bonfires,
upon which Jew and Gentile are throwing into the flames bundle upon bundle
of scrolls, while an Asiarch with his peace-officers looks on with the
conventional stolidity of policemen in all ages and all nations. It must
have been an impressive scene, and many a worse subject has been chosen
for the walls of the Royal Academy.
Books in those early times, whether orthodox or heterodox, appear to have
had a precarious existence. The heathens at each fresh outbreak of
persecution burnt all the Christian writings they could find, and the
Christians, when they got the upper hand, retaliated with interest upon
the pagan literature. The Mohammedan reason for destroying books—"If
they contain what is in the Koran they are superfluous, and if they
contain anything opposed to it they are immoral," seems, indeed, mutatis
mutandis, to have been the general rule for all such devastators.
The Invention of Printing made the entire destruction of any author's
works much more difficult, so quickly and so extensively did books spread
through all lands. On the other hand, as books multiplied, so did
destruction go hand in hand with production, and soon were printed books
doomed to suffer in the same penal fires, that up to then had been fed on
MSS. only.
At Cremona, in 1569, 12,000 books printed in Hebrew were publicly burnt as
heretical, simply on account of their language; and Cardinal Ximenes, at
the capture of Granada, treated 5,000 copies of the Koran in the same way.
At the time of the Reformation in England a great destruction of books
took place. The antiquarian Bale, writing in 1587, thus speaks of the
shameful fate of the Monastic libraries:—
"A greate nombre of them whyche purchased those superstycyouse mansyons (Monasteries)
reserved of those librarye bookes some to serve their jakes, some to
scoure theyr candelstyckes, and some to rubbe theyr bootes. Some they
solde to the grossers and sope sellers, and some they sent over see to yeS
booke bynders, not in small nombre, but at tymes whole shyppes full, to
yeS, wonderynge of foren nacyons. Yea yeS. Universytees of thys realme are
not alle clere in thys detestable fact. But cursed is that bellye whyche
seketh to be fedde with suche ungodlye gaynes, and so depelye shameth hys
natural conterye. I knowe a merchant manne, whych shall at thys tyme be
namelesse, that boughte yeS contentes of two noble lybraryes for forty
shyllynges pryce: a shame it is to be spoken. Thys stuffe hathe heoccupyed
in yeS stede of greye paper, by yeS, space of more than these ten yeares,
and yet he bathe store ynoughe for as manye years to come. A prodygyous
example is thys, and to be abhorred of all men whyche love theyr nacyon as
they shoulde do. The monkes kepte them undre dust, yeS, ydle-headed
prestes regarded them not, theyr latter owners have most shamefully abused
them, and yeS covetouse merchantes have solde them away into foren nacyons
for moneye."
How the imagination recoils at the idea of Caxton's translation of the
Metamorphoses of Ovid, or perhaps his "Lyf of therle of Oxenforde,"
together with many another book from our first presses, not a fragment of
which do we now possess, being used for baking "pyes."
At the Great Fire of London in 1666, the number of books burnt was
enormous. Not only in private houses and Corporate and Church libraries
were priceless collections reduced to cinders, but an immense stock of
books removed from Paternoster Row by the Stationers for safety was burnt
to ashes in the vaults of St. Paul's Cathedral.
Coming nearer to our own day, how thankful we ought to be for the
preservation of the Cotton Library. Great was the consternation in the
literary world of 1731 when they heard of the fire at Ashburnham House,
Westminster, where, at that time, the Cotton MSS. were deposited. By great
exertions the fire was conquered, but not before many MSS. had been quite
destroyed and many others injured. Much skill was shown in the partial
restoration of these books, charred almost beyond recognition; they were
carefully separated leaf by leaf, soaked in a chemical solution, and then
pressed flat between sheets of transparent paper. A curious heap of
scorched leaves, previous to any treatment, and looking like a monster
wasps' nest, may be seen in a glass case in the MS. department of the
British Museum, showing the condition to which many other volumes had been
reduced.
Just a hundred years ago the mob, in the "Birmingham Riots," burnt the
valuable library of Dr. Priestley, and in the "Gordon Riots" were burnt
the literary and other collections of Lord Mansfield, the celebrated
judge, he who had the courage first to decide that the Slave who reached
the English shore was thenceforward a free man. The loss of the latter
library drew from the poet Cowper two short and weak poems. The poet first
deplores the destruction of the valuable printed books, and then the
irretrievable loss to history by the burning of his Lordship's many
personal manuscripts and contemporary documents.
"Their pages mangled, burnt and torn,
The loss was his alone;
But ages yet to come shall mourn
The burning of his own."
The second poem commences with the following doggerel:—
"When Wit and Genius meet their doom
In all-devouring Flame,
They tell us of the Fate of Rome
And bid us fear the same."
The much finer and more extensive library of Dr. Priestley was left
unnoticed and unlamented by the orthodox poet, who probably felt a
complacent satisfaction at the destruction of heterodox books, the owner
being an Unitarian Minister.
The magnificent library of Strasbourg was burnt by the shells of the
German Army in 1870. Then disappeared for ever, together with other unique
documents, the original records of the famous law-suits between Gutenberg,
one of the first Printers, and his partners, upon the right understanding
of which depends the claim of Gutenberg to the invention of the Art. The
flames raged between high brick walls, roaring louder than a blast
furnace. Seldom, indeed, have Mars and Pluto had so dainty a sacrifice
offered at their shrines; for over all the din of battle, and the
reverberation of monster artillery, the burning leaves of the first
printed Bible and many another priceless volume were wafted into the sky,
the ashes floating for miles on the heated air, and carrying to the
astonished countryman the first news of the devastation of his Capital.
When the Offor Collection was put to the hammer by Messrs Sotheby and
Wilkinson, the well-known auctioneers of Wellington Street, and when about
three days of the sale had been gone through, a Fire occurred in the
adjoining house, and, gaining possession of the Sale Rooms, made a speedy
end of the unique Bunyan and other rarities then on show. I was allowed to
see the Ruins on the following day, and by means of a ladder and some
scrambling managed to enter the Sale Room where parts of the floor still
remained. It was a fearful sight those scorched rows of Volumes still on
the shelves; and curious was it to notice how the flames, burning off the
backs of the books first, had then run up behind the shelves, and so
attacked the fore-edge of the volumes standing upon them, leaving the
majority with a perfectly untouched oval centre of white paper and plain
print, while the whole surrounding parts were but a mass of black cinders.
The salvage was sold in one lot for a small sum, and the purchaser, after
a good deal of sorting and mending and binding placed about 1,000 volumes
for sale at Messrs. Puttick and Simpson's in the following year.
So, too, when the curious old Library which was in a gallery of the Dutch
Church, Austin Friars, was nearly destroyed in the fire which devastated
the Church in 1862, the books which escaped were sadly injured. Not long
before I had spent some hours there hunting for English Fifteenth-century
Books, and shall never forget the state of dirt in which I came away.
Without anyone to care for them, the books had remained untouched for many
a decade-damp dust, half an inch thick, having settled upon them! Then
came the fire, and while the roof was all ablaze streams of hot water,
like a boiling deluge, washed down upon them. The wonder was they were not
turned into a muddy pulp. After all was over, the whole of the library, no
portion of which could legally be given away, was lent for ever to
the Corporation of London. Scorched and sodden, the salvage came into the
hands of Mr. Overall, their indefatigable librarian. In a hired attic, he
hung up the volumes that would bear it over strings like clothes, to dry,
and there for weeks and weeks were the stained, distorted volumes, often
without covers, often in single leaves, carefully tended and dry-nursed.
Washing, sizing, pressing, and binding effected wonders, and no one who
to-day looks upon the attractive little alcove in the Guildhall Library
labelled [oe "Bibliotheca Ecclesiae Londonino-Belgiae"] and sees the rows
of handsomely-lettered backs, could imagine that not long ago this, the
most curious portion of the City's literary collections, was in a state
when a five-pound note would have seemed more than full value for the lot.
(1) This was written in 1879, since which time a new building has been
erected.
Water in the form of vapour is a great enemy of books, the damp attacking
both outside and inside. Outside it fosters the growth of a white mould or
fungus which vegetates upon the edges of the leaves, upon the sides and in
the joints of the binding. It is easily wiped off, but not without leaving
a plain mark, where the mould-spots have been. Under the microscope a
mould-spot is seen to be a miniature forest of lovely trees, covered with
a beautiful white foliage, upas trees whose roots are embedded in the
leather and destroy its texture.
Inside the book, damp encourages the growth of those ugly brown spots
which so often disfigure prints and "livres de luxe." Especially it
attacks books printed in the early part of this century, when paper-makers
had just discovered that they could bleach their rags, and perfectly white
paper, well pressed after printing, had become the fashion. This paper
from the inefficient means used to neutralise the bleach, carried the
seeds of decay in itself, and when exposed to any damp soon became
discoloured with brown stains. Dr. Dibdin's extravagant bibliographical
works are mostly so injured; and although the Doctor's bibliography is
very incorrect, and his spun-out inanities and wearisome affectations
often annoy one, yet his books are so beautifully illustrated, and he is
so full of personal anecdote and chit chat, that it grieves the heart to
see "foxey" stains common in his most superb works.
In a perfectly dry and warm library these spots would probably remain
undeveloped, but many endowed as well as private libraries are not in
daily use, and are often injured from a false idea that a hard frost and
prolonged cold do no injury to a library so long as the weather is dry.
The fact is that books should never be allowed to get really cold, for
when a thaw comes and the weather sets in warm, the air, laden with damp,
penetrates the inmost recesses, and working its way between the volumes
and even between the leaves, deposits upon their cold surface its
moisture. The best preventative of this is a warm atmosphere during the
frost, sudden heating when the frost has gone being useless.
Our worst enemies are sometimes our real friends, and perhaps the best way
of keeping libraries entirely free from damp is to circulate our enemy in
the shape of hot water through pipes laid under the floor. The facilities
now offered for heating such pipes from the outside are so great, the
expense comparatively so small, and the direct gain in the expulsion of
damp so decided, that where it can be accomplished without much trouble it
is well worth the doing.
At the same time no system of heating should be allowed to supersede the
open grate, which supplies a ventilation to the room as useful to the
health of the books as to the health of the occupier. A coal fire is
objectionable on many grounds. It is dangerous, dirty and dusty. On the
other hand an asbestos fire, where the lumps are judiciously laid, gives
all the warmth and ventilation of a common fire without any of its
annoyances; and to any one who loves to be independent of servants, and to
know that, however deeply he may sleep over his "copy," his fire will not
fail to keep awake, an asbestos stove is invaluable.
It is a mistake also to imagine that keeping the best bound volumes in a
glass doored book-case is a preservative. The damp air will certainly
penetrate, and as the absence of ventilation will assist the formation of
mould, the books will be worse off than if they had been placed in open
shelves. If security be desirable, by all means abolish the glass and
place ornamental brass wire-work in its stead. Like the writers of old
Cookery Books who stamped special receipts with the testimony of personal
experience, I can say "probatum est."
(1) 1887. The system in use is still "Siemens," but, owing to long
experience and improvements, is not now open to the above objections.
Heat alone, without any noxious fumes, is, if continuous, very injurious
to books, and, without gas, bindings may be utterly destroyed by
desiccation, the leather losing all its natural oils by long exposure to
much heat. It is, therefore, a great pity to place books high up in a room
where heat of any kind is as it must rise to the top, and if sufficient to
be of comfort to the readers below, is certain to be hot enough above to
injure the bindings.
The surest way to preserve your books in health is to treat them as you
would your own children, who are sure to sicken if confined in an
atmosphere which is impure, too hot, too cold, too damp, or too dry. It is
just the same with the progeny of literature.
If any credence may be given to Monkish legends, books have sometimes been
preserved in this world, only to meet a desiccating fate in the world to
come. The story is probably an invention of the enemy to throw discredit
on the learning and ability of the preaching Friars, an Order which was at
constant war with the illiterate secular Clergy. It runs thus:—"In
the year 1439, two Minorite friars who had all their lives collected
books, died. In accordance with popular belief, they were at once
conducted before the heavenly tribunal to hear their doom, taking with
them two asses laden with books. At Heaven's gate the porter demanded,
'Whence came ye?' The Minorites replied 'From a monastery of St. Francis.'
'Oh!' said the porter, 'then St. Francis shall be your judge.' So that
saint was summoned, and at sight of the friars and their burden demanded
who they were, and why they had brought so many books with them. 'We are
Minorites,' they humbly replied, 'and we have brought these few books with
us as a solatium in the new Jerusalem.' 'And you, when on earth, practised
the good they teach?' sternly demanded the saint, who read their
characters at a glance. Their faltering reply was sufficient, and the
blessed saint at once passed judgment as follows:—'Insomuch as,
seduced by a foolish vanity, and against your vows of poverty, you have
amassed this multitude of books and thereby and therefor have neglected
the duties and broken the rules of your Order, you are now sentenced to
read your books for ever and ever in the fires of Hell.' Immediately, a
roaring noise filled the air, and a flaming chasm opened in which friars,
and asses and books were suddenly engulphed."
(1) Le luxe des Livres par L. Derome. 8vo, Paris, 1879.
M. Derome loquitur:—
"Let us now enter the communal library of some large provincial town. The
interior has a lamentable appearance; dust and disorder have made it their
home. It has a librarian, but he has the consideration of a porter only,
and goes but once a week to see the state of the books committed to his
care; they are in a bad state, piled in heaps and perishing in corners for
want of attention and binding. At this present time (1879) more than one
public library in Paris could be mentioned in which thousands of books are
received annually, all of which will have disappeared in the course of 50
years or so for want of binding; there are rare books, impossible to
replace, falling to pieces because no care is given to them, that is to
say, they are left unbound, a prey to dust and the worm, and cannot be
touched without dismemberment."
﹃All history shows that this neglect belongs not to any particular age or
nation. I extract the following story from Edmond Werdet's Histoire du
Livre.﹄(1)
(1) "Histoire du Livre en France," par E. Werdet. 8vo, Paris, 1851.
"The Poet Boccaccio, when travelling in Apulia, was anxious to visit the
celebrated Convent of Mount Cassin, especially to see its library, of
which he had heard much. He accosted, with great courtesy, one of the
monks whose countenance attracted him, and begged him to have the kindness
to show him the library. 'See for yourself,' said the monk, brusquely,
pointing at the same time to an old stone staircase, broken with age.
Boccaccio hastily mounted in great joy at the prospect of a grand
bibliographical treat. Soon he reached the room, which was without key or
even door as protection to its treasures. What was his astonishment to see
that the grass growing in the window-sills actually darkened the room, and
that all the books and seats were an inch thick in dust. In utter
astonishment he lifted one book after another. All were manuscripts of
extreme antiquity, but all were dreadfully dilapidated. Many had lost
whole sections which had been violently extracted, and in many all the
blank margins of the vellum had been cut away. In fact, the mutilation was
thorough.
"Grieved at seeing the work and the wisdom of so many illustrious men
fallen into the hands of custodians so unworthy, Boccaccio descended with
tears in his eyes. In the cloisters he met another monk, and enquired of
him how the MSS. had become so mutilated. 'Oh!' he replied, 'we are
obliged, you know, to earn a few sous for our needs, so we cut away the
blank margins of the manuscripts for writing upon, and make of them small
books of devotion, which we sell to women and children."
As a postscript to this story, Mr. Timmins, of Birmingham, informs me that
the treasures of the Monte Cassino Library are better cared for now than
in Boccaccio's days, the worthy prior being proud of his valuable MSS. and
very willing to show them. It will interest many readers to know that
there is now a complete printing office, lithographic as well as
typographic, at full work in one large room of the Monastery, where their
wonderful MS. of Dante has been already reprinted, and where other
fac-simile works are now in progress.
(1) Nell Gwyn's private Housekeeping Book was among them, containing
most curious particulars of what was necessary in the time of Charles I
for a princely household. Fortunately it was among the rescued, and is
now in a private library.
In 1854 a very interesting series of blue books was commenced by the
authorities of the Patent Office, of course paid for out of the national
purse. Beginning with the year 1617 the particulars of every important
patent were printed from the original specifications and fac-simile
drawings made, where necessary, for the elucidation of the text. A very
moderate price was charged for each, only indeed the prime cost of
production. The general public, of course, cared little for such
literature, but those interested in the origin and progress of any
particular art, cared much, and many sets of Patents were purchased by
those engaged in research. But the great bulk of the stock was, to some
extent, inconvenient, and so when a removal to other offices, in 1879,
became necessary, the question arose as to what could be done with them.
These blue-books, which had cost the nation many thousands of pounds, were
positively sold to the paper mills as wastepaper, and nearly 100 tons
weight were carted away at about L3 per ton. It is difficult to believe,
although positively true, that so great an act of vandalism could have
been perpetrated, even in a Government office. It is true that no demand
existed for some of them, but it is equally true that in numerous cases,
especially in the early specifications of the steam engine and printing
machine, the want of them has caused great disappointment. To add a climax
to the story, many of the "pulped" specifications have had to be reprinted
more than once since their destruction.
THERE is a sort of busy worm
That will the fairest books deform,
By gnawing holes throughout them;
Alike, through every leaf they go,
Yet of its merits naught they know,
Nor care they aught about them.
Their tasteless tooth will tear and taint
The Poet, Patriot, Sage or Saint,
Not sparing wit nor learning.
Now, if you'd know the reason why,
The best of reasons I'll supply;
'Tis bread to the poor vermin.
Of pepper, snuff, or 'bacca smoke,
And Russia-calf they make a joke.
Yet, why should sons of science
These puny rankling reptiles dread?
'Tis but to let their books be read,
And bid the worms defiance."
J. DORASTON.
A most destructive Enemy of books has been the bookworm. I say "has been,"
because, fortunately, his ravages in all civilised countries have been
greatly restricted during the last fifty years. This is due partly to the
increased reverence for antiquity which has been universally developed—more
still to the feeling of cupidity, which has caused all owners to take care
of volumes which year by year have become more valuable—and, to some
considerable extent, to the falling off in the production of edible books.
The monks, who were the chief makers as well as the custodians of books,
through the long ages we call "dark," because so little is known of them,
had no fear of the bookworm before their eyes, for, ravenous as he is and
was, he loves not parchment, and at that time paper was not. Whether at a
still earlier period he attacked the papyrus, the paper of the Egyptians,
I know not—probably he did, as it was a purely vegetable substance;
and if so, it is quite possible that the worm of to-day, in such evil
repute with us, is the lineal descendant of ravenous ancestors who plagued
the sacred Priests of On in the time of Joseph's Pharaoh, by destroying
their title deeds and their books of Science.
Rare things and precious, as manuscripts were before the invention of
typography, are well preserved, but when the printing press was invented
and paper books were multiplied in the earth; when libraries increased and
readers were many, then familiarity bred contempt; books were packed in
out-of-the-way places and neglected, and the oft-quoted, though seldom
seen, bookworm became an acknowledged tenant of the library, and the
mortal enemy of the bibliophile.
Anathemas have been hurled against this pest in nearly every European
language, old and new, and classical scholars of bye-gone centuries have
thrown their spondees and dactyls at him. Pierre Petit, in 1683, devoted a
long Latin poem to his dis-praise, and Parnell's charming Ode is well
known. Hear the poet lament:—
"Pene tu mihi passerem Catulli, Pene tu mihi Lesbiam abstulisti."and then—
"Quid dicam innumeros bene eruditos
Quorum tu monumenta tu labores
Isti pessimo ventre devorasti?"
while Petit, who was evidently moved by strong personal feelings against
the "invisum pecus," as he calls him, addresses his little enemy as
"Bestia audax" and "Pestis chartarum."
But, as a portrait commonly precedes a biography, the curious reader may
wish to be told what this "Bestia audax," who so greatly ruffles the
tempers of our eclectics, is like. Here, at starting, is a serious
chameleon-like difficulty, for the bookworm offers to us, if we are guided
by their words, as many varieties of size and shape as there are
beholders.
Sylvester, in his "Laws of Verse," with more words than wit, described him
as "a microscopic creature wriggling on the learned page, which, when
discovered, stiffens out into the resemblance of a streak of dirt."
The earliest notice is in "Micrographia," by R. Hooke, folio, London,
1665. This work, which was printed at the expense of the Royal Society of
London, is an account of innumerable things examined by the author under
the microscope, and is most interesting for the frequent accuracy of the
author's observations, and most amusing for his equally frequent blunders.
In his account of the bookworm, his remarks, which are rather long and
very minute, are absurdly blundering. He calls it﹃a small white
Silver-shining Worm or Moth, which I found much conversant among books and
papers, and is supposed to be that which corrodes and eats holes thro' the
leaves and covers. Its head appears bigg and blunt, and its body tapers
from it towards the tail, smaller and smaller, being shap'd almost like a
carret.... It has two long horns before, which are streight, and tapering
towards the top, curiously ring'd or knobb'd and brisled much like the
marsh weed called Horses tail.... The hinder part is terminated with three
tails, in every particular resembling the two longer horns that grow out
of the head. The legs are scal'd and hair'd. This animal probably feeds
upon the paper and covers of books, and perforates in them several small
round holes, finding perhaps a convenient nourishment in those husks of
hemp and flax, which have passed through so many scourings, washings,
dressings, and dryings as the parts of old paper necessarily have
suffer'd. And, indeed, when I consider what a heap of sawdust or chips
this little creature (which is one of the teeth of Time) conveys into its
intrals, I cannot chuse but remember and admire the excellent contrivance
of Nature in placing in animals such a fire, as is continually nourished
and supply'd by the materials convey'd into the stomach and fomented by
the bellows of the lungs.﹄The picture or "image," which accompanies this
description, is wonderful to behold. Certainly R. Hooke, Fellow of the
Royal Society, drew somewhat upon his imagination here, having apparently
evolved both engraving and description from his inner consciousness. (1)
(1) Not so! Several correspondents have drawn my attention to the
fact that Hooke is evidently describing the "Lepisma," which, if not
positively injurious, is often found in the warm places of old houses,
especially if a little damp. He mistook this for the Bookworm.
Entomologists even do not appear to have paid much attention to the
natural history of the "Worm." Kirby, speaking of it, says,﹃the larvae of
Crambus pinguinalis spins a robe which it covers with its own excrement,
and does no little injury.﹄Again,﹃I have often observed the caterpillar
of a little moth that takes its station in damp old books, and there
commits great ravages, and many a black-letter rarity, which in these days
of bibliomania would have been valued at its weight in gold, has been
snatched by these devastators,﹄etc., etc.
As already quoted, Doraston's description is very vague. To him he is in
one verse "a sort of busy worm," and in another "a puny rankling reptile."
Hannett, in his work on book-binding, gives "Aglossa pinguinalis" as the
real name, and Mrs. Gatty, in her Parables, christens it "Hypothenemus
cruditus."
The, Rev. F. T. Havergal, who many years ago had much trouble with
bookworms in the Cathedral Library of Hereford, says they are a kind of
death-watch, with a "hard outer skin, and are dark brown," another sort
"having white bodies with brown spots on their heads." Mr. Holme, in
"Notes and Queries" for 1870, states that the "Anobium paniceum" has done
considerable injury to the Arabic manuscripts brought from Cairo, by
Burckhardt, and now in the University Library, Cambridge. Other writers
say "Acarus eruditus" or "Anobium pertinax" are the correct scientific
names.
Personally, I have come across but few specimens; nevertheless, from what
I have been told by librarians, and judging from analogy, I imagine the
following to be about the truth:—
There are several kinds of caterpillar and grub, which eat into books,
those with legs are the larvae of moths; those without legs, or rather
with rudimentary legs, are grubs and turn to beetles.
It is not known whether any species of caterpillar or grub can live
generation after generation upon books alone, but several sorts of
wood-borers, and others which live upon vegetable refuse, will attack
paper, especially if attracted in the first place by the real wooden
boards in which it was the custom of the old book-binders to clothe their
volumes. In this belief, some country librarians object to opening the
library windows lest the enemy should fly in from the neighbouring woods,
and rear a brood of worms. Anyone, indeed, who has seen a hole in a
filbert, or a piece of wood riddled by dry rot, will recognize a
similarity of appearance in the channels made by these insect enemies.
Among the paper-eating species are:—
1. The "Anobium." Of this beetle there are varieties, viz.: "A. pertinax,"
"A. eruditus," and "A. paniceum." In the larval state they are grubs, just
like those found, in nuts; in this stage they are too much alike to be
distinguished from one another. They feed on old dry wood, and often
infest bookcases and shelves. They eat the wooden boards of old books, and
so pass into the paper where they make long holes quite round, except when
they work in a slanting direction, when the holes appear to be oblong.
They will thus pierce through several volumes in succession, Peignot, the
well-known bibliographer, having found 27 volumes so pierced in a straight
line by one worm, a miracle of gluttony, the story of which, for myself, I
receive "cum grano salis." After a certain time the larva changes
into a pupa, and then emerges as a small brown beetle.
2. "Oecophora."—This larva is similar in size to that of Anobium,
but can be distinguished at once by having legs. It is a caterpillar, with
six legs upon its thorax and eight sucker-like protuberances on its body,
like a silk-worm. It changes into a chrysalis, and then assumes its
perfect shape as a small brown moth. The species that attacks books is the
OEcophora pseudospretella. It loves damp and warmth, and eats any fibrous
material. This caterpillar is quite unlike any garden species, and,
excepting the legs, is very similar in appearance and size to the Anobium.
It is about half-inch long, with a horny head and strong jaws. To
printers' ink or writing ink he appears to have no great dislike, though I
imagine that the former often disagrees with his health, unless he is very
robust, as in books where the print is pierced a majority of the
worm-holes I have seen are too short in extent to have provided food
enough for the development of the grub. But, although the ink may be
unwholesome, many grubs survive, and, eating day and night in silence and
darkness, work out their destiny leaving, according to the strength of
their constitutions, a longer or shorter tunnel in the volume.
In December, 1879, Mr. Birdsall, a well-known book-binder of Northampton,
kindly sent me by post a fat little Worm, which had been found by one of
his workmen in an old book while being bound. He bore his journey
extremely well, being very lively when turned out. I placed him in a box
in warmth and quiet, with some small fragments of paper from a Boethius,
printed by Caxton, and a leaf of a seventeenth century book. He ate a
small piece of the leaf, but either from too much fresh air, from
unaccustomed liberty, or from change of food, he gradually weakened, and
died in about three weeks. I was sorry to lose him, as I wished to verify
his name in his perfect state. Mr. Waterhouse, of the Entomological
department of the British Museum, very kindly examined him before death,
and was of opinion he was OEcophora pseudospretella.
In July, 1885, Dr. Garnett, of the British Museum, gave me two worms which
had been found in an old Hebrew Commentary just received from Athens. They
had doubtless had a good shaking on the journey, and one was moribund when
I took charge, and joined his defunct kindred in a few days. The other
seemed hearty and lived with me for nearly eighteen months. I treated him
as well as I knew how; placed him in a small box with the choice of three
sorts of old paper to eat, and very seldom disturbed him. He evidently
resented his confinement, ate very little, moved very little, and changed
in appearance very little, even when dead. This Greek worm, filled with
Hebrew lore, differed in many respects from any other I have seen. He was
longer, thinner, and more delicate looking than any of his English
congeners. He was transparent, like thin ivory, and had a dark line
through his body, which I took to be the intestinal canal. He resigned his
life with extreme procrastination, and died "deeply lamented" by his
keeper, who had long looked forward to his final development.
The difficulty of breeding these worms is probably due to their formation.
When in a state of nature they can by expansion and contraction of the
body working upon the sides of their holes, push their horny jaws against
the opposing mass of paper. But when freed from the restraint, which
indeed to them is life, they CANNOT eat although surrounded with food, for
they have no legs to keep them steady, and their natural, leverage is
wanting.
Considering the numerous old books contained in the British Museum, the
Library there is wonderfully free from the worm. Mr. Rye, lately the
Keeper of the Printed Books there, writes me "Two or three were discovered
in my time, but they were weakly creatures. One, I remember, was conveyed
into the Natural History Department, and was taken into custody by Mr.
Adam White who pronounced it to be Anobium pertinax. I never heard of it
after."
The reader, who has not had an opportunity of examining old libraries, can
have no idea of the dreadful havoc which these pests are capable of
making.
I have now before me a fine folio volume, printed on very good unbleached
paper, as thick as stout cartridge, in the year 1477, by Peter Schoeffer,
of Mentz. Unfortunately, after a period of neglect in which it suffered
severely from the "worm," it was about fifty years ago considered worth a
new cover, and so again suffered severely, this time at the hands of the
binder. Thus the original state of the boards is unknown, but the damage
done to the leaves can be accurately described.
The "worms" have attacked each end. On the first leaf are 212 distinct
holes, varying in size from a common pin hole to that which a stout
knitting-needle would make, say, [1/16] to [1/23] inch. These holes run
mostly in lines more or less at right angles with the covers, a very few
being channels along the paper affecting three or four sheets only. The
varied energy of these little pests is thus represented:—
On folio 1 are 212 holes. On folio 61 are 4 holes.
" 11 " 57 " " 71 " 2 『
』 21 " 48 " " 81 " 2 『
』 31 " 31 " " 87 " 1 『
』 41 " 18 " " 90 " 0 『
』 51 " 6 "
These 90 leaves being stout, are about the thickness of 1 inch. The volume
has 250 leaves, and turning to the end, we find on the last leaf 81 holes,
made by a breed of worms not so ravenous. Thus,
From end | From end.
On folio 1 are 81 holes. | On folio 66 is 1 hole.
" 11 " 40 " | " 69 " 0 "
It is curious to notice how the holes, rapidly at first, and then slowly
and more slowly, disappear. You trace the same hole leaf after leaf, until
suddenly the size becomes in one leaf reduced to half its normal diameter,
and a close examination will show a small abrasion of the paper in the
next leaf exactly where the hole would have come if continued. In the book
quoted it is just as if there had been a race. In the first ten leaves the
weak worms are left behind; in the second ten there are still forty-eight
eaters; these are reduced to thirty-one in the third ten, and to only
eighteen in the fourth ten. On folio 51 only six worms hold on, and before
folio 61 two of them have given in. Before reaching folio 7, it is a neck
and neck race between two sturdy gourmands, each making a fine large hole,
one of them being oval in shape. At folio 71 they are still neck and neck,
and at folio 81 the same. At folio 87 the oval worm gives in, the round
one eating three more leaves and part way through the fourth. The leaves
of the book are then untouched until we reach the sixty-ninth from the
end, upon which is one worm hole. After this they go on multiplying to the
end of the book.
I have quoted this instance because I have it handy, but many worms eat
much longer holes than any in this volume; some I have seen running quite
through a couple of thick volumes, covers and all. In the "Schoeffer" book
the holes are probably the work of Anobium pertinax, because the centre is
spared and both ends attacked. Originally, real wooden boards were the
covers of the volume, and here, doubtless, the attack was commenced, which
was carried through each board into the paper of the book.
I remember well my first visit to the Bodleian Library, in the year 1858,
Dr. Bandinel being then the librarian. He was very kind, and afforded me
every facility for examining the fine collection of "Caxtons," which was
the object of my journey. In looking over a parcel of black-letter
fragments, which had been in a drawer for a long time, I came across a
small grub, which, without a thought, I threw on the floor and trod under
foot. Soon after I found another, a fat, glossy fellow, so long —-,
which I carefully preserved in a little paper box, intending to observe
his habits and development. Seeing Dr. Bandinel near, I asked him to look
at my curiosity. Hardly, however, had I turned the wriggling little victim
out upon the leather-covered table, when down came the doctor's great
thumb-nail upon him, and an inch-long smear proved the tomb of all my
hopes, while the great bibliographer, wiping his thumb on his coat sleeve,
passed on with the remark, "Oh, yes! they have black heads sometimes."
That was something to know—another fact for the entomologist; for my
little gentleman had a hard, shiny, white head, and I never heard of a
black-headed bookworm before or since. Perhaps the great abundance of
black-letter books in the Bodleian may account for the variety. At any
rate he was an Anobium.
I have been unmercifully "chaffed" for the absurd idea that a paper-eating
worm could be kept a prisoner in a paper box. Oh, these critics! Your
bookworm is a shy, lazy beast, and takes a day or two to recover his
appetite after being "evicted." Moreover, he knew his own dignity better
than to eat the "loaded" glazed shoddy note paper in which he was
incarcerated.
In the case of Caxton's "Lyf of oure ladye," already referred to, not only
are there numerous small holes, but some very large channels at the bottom
of the pages. This is a most unusual occurrence, and is probably the work
of the larva of "Dermestes vulpinus," a garden beetle, which is very
voracious, and eats any kind of dry ligneous rubbish.
The scarcity of edible books of the present century has been mentioned.
One result of the extensive adulteration of modern paper is that the worm
will not touch it. His instinct forbids him to eat the china clay, the
bleaches, the plaster of Paris, the sulphate of barytes, the scores of
adulterants now used to mix with the fibre, and, so far, the wise pages of
the old literature are, in the race against Time with the modern rubbish,
heavily handicapped. Thanks to the general interest taken in old books
now-a-days, the worm has hard times of it, and but slight chance of that
quiet neglect which is necessary to his, existence. So much greater is the
reason why some patient entomologist should, while there is the chance,
take upon himself to study the habits of the creature, as Sir John Lubbock
has those of the ant.
I have now before me some leaves of a book, which, being waste, were used
by our economical first printer, Caxton, to make boards, by pasting them
together. Whether the old paste was an attraction, or whatever the reason
may have been, the worm, when he got in there, did not, as usual, eat
straight through everything into the middle of the book, but worked his
way longitudinally, eating great furrows along the leaves without passing
out of the binding; and so furrowed are these few leaves by long channels
that it is difficult to raise one of them without its falling to pieces.
This is bad enough, but we may be very thankful that in these temperate
climes we have no such enemies as are found in very hot countries, where a
whole library, books, bookshelves, table, chairs, and all, may be
destroyed in one night by a countless army of ants.
Our cousins in the United States, so fortunate in many things, seem very
fortunate in this—their books are not attacked by the "worm"—at
any rate, American writers say so. True it is that all their black-letter
comes from Europe, and, having cost many dollars, is well looked after;
but there they have thousands of seventeenth and eighteenth century books,
in Roman type, printed in the States on genuine and wholesome paper, and
the worm is not particular, at least in this country, about the type he
eats through, if the paper is good.
Probably, therefore, the custodians of their old libraries could tell a
different tale, which makes it all the more amusing to find in the
excellent "Encyclopaedia of Printing," (1) edited and printed by Ringwalt,
at Philadelphia, not only that the bookworm is a stranger there, for
personally he is unknown to most of us, but that his slightest ravages are
looked upon as both curious and rare. After quoting Dibdin, with the
addition of a few flights of imagination of his own, Ringwalt states that
this﹃paper-eating moth is supposed to have been introduced into England
in hogsleather binding from Holland.﹄He then ends with what, to anyone
who has seen the ravages of the worm in hundreds of books, must be
charming in its native simplicity. "There is now," he states, evidently
quoting it as a great curiosity,﹃there is now, in a private library in
Philadelphia, a book perforated by this insect.﹄Oh! lucky Philadelphians!
who can boast of possessing the oldest library in the States, but must ask
leave of a private collector if they wish to see the one wormhole in the
whole city!
(1) "American Encyclopaedia of Printing": by Luther Ringwalt. 8vo.
Philadelphia, 1871.
These beautiful letters have been cut from precious
MSS., and as specimens of early art are extremely
valuable, many of them being worth 15s. each."
Mr. Proeme is a man well known to the London dealers in old books. He is
wealthy, and cares not what he spends to carry out his bibliographical
craze, which is the collection of title pages. These he ruthlessly
extracts, frequently leaving the decapitated carcase of the books, for
which he cares not, behind him. Unlike the destroyer Bagford, he has no
useful object in view, but simply follows a senseless kind of
classification. For instance: One set of volumes contains nothing but
copper-plate engraved titles, and woe betide the grand old Dutch folios of
the seventeenth century if they cross his path. Another is a volume of
coarse or quaint titles, which certainly answer the end of showing how
idiotic and conceited some authors have been. Here you find Dr. Sib's
"Bowels opened in Divers Sermons," 1650, cheek by jowl with the discourse
attributed falsely to Huntington, the Calvinist, "Die and be damned," with
many others too coarse to be quoted. The odd titles adopted for his poems
by Taylor, the water-poet, enliven several pages, and make one's mouth
water for the books themselves. A third volume includes only such titles
as have the printer's device. If you shut your eyes to the injury done by
such collectors, you may, to a certain extent, enjoy the collection, for
there is great beauty in some titles; but such a pursuit is neither useful
nor meritorious. By and by the end comes, and then dispersion follows
collection, and the volumes, which probably Cost L200 each in their
formation, will be knocked down to a dealer for L10, finally gravitating
into the South Kensington Library, or some public museum, as a
bibliographical curiosity. The following has just been sold (July, 1880)
by Messrs. Sotheby, Wilkinson and Hodge, in the Dunn-Gardinier collection,
lot 1592:—
"TITLEPAGES AND FRONTISPIECES.
A Collection of upwards of 800 ENGRAVED TITLES AND FRONTISPIECES,
ENGLISH AND FOREIGN (some very fine and curious) taken from old books
and neatly mounted on cartridge paper in 3 vol, half morocco gilt. imp.
folio."
The only collection of title-pages which has afforded me unalloyed
pleasure is a handsome folio, published by the directors of the Plantin
Museum, Antwerp, in 1877, just after the purchase of that wonderful
typographical storehouse. It is called﹃Titels en Portretten gesneden naar
P. P. Rubens voor de Plantijnsche Drukkerij,﹄and it contains thirty-five
grand title pages, reprinted from the original seventeenth century plates,
designed by Rubens himself between the years 1612 and 1640, for various
publications which issued from the celebrated Plantin Printing Office. In
the same Museum are preserved in Rubens' own handwriting his charge for
each design, duly receipted at foot.
I have now before me a fine copy of﹃Coclusiones siue decisiones antique
dnor' de Rota,﹄printed by Gutenberg's partner, Schoeffer, in the year
1477. It is perfect, except in a most vital part, the Colophon, which has
been cut out by some barbaric "Collector," and which should read thus:
﹃Pridie nonis Januarii Mcccclxxvij, in Civitate Moguntina, impressorie
Petrus Schoyffer de Gernsheym,﹄followed by his well-known mark, two
shields.
A similar mania arose at the beginning of this century for collections of
illuminated initials, which were taken from MSS., and arranged on the
pages of a blank book in alphabetical order. Some of our cathedral
libraries suffered severely from depredations of this kind. At Lincoln, in
the early part of this century, the boys put on their robes in the
library, a room close to the choir. Here were numerous old MSS., and eight
or ten rare Caxtons. The choir boys used often to amuse themselves, while
waiting for the signal to "fall in," by cutting out with their pen-knives
the illuminated initials and vignettes, which they would take into the
choir with them and pass round from one to another. The Dean and Chapter
of those days were not much better, for they let Dr. Dibdin have all their
Caxtons for a "consideration." He made a little catalogue of them, which
he called "A Lincolne Nosegaye." Eventually they were absorbed into the
collection at Althorp.
The late Mr. Caspari was a "destroyer" of books. His rare collection of
early woodcuts, exhibited in 1877 at the Caxton Celebration, had been
frequently augmented by the purchase of illustrated books, the plates of
which were taken out, and mounted on Bristol boards, to enrich his
collection. He once showed me the remains of a fine copy of "Theurdanck,"
which he had served so, and I have now before me several of the leaves
which he then gave me, and which, for beauty of engraving and cleverness
of typography, surpasses any typographical work known to me. It was
printed for the Emperor Maximilian, by Hans Schonsperger, of Nuremberg,
and, to make it unique, all the punches were cut on purpose, and as many
as seven or eight varieties of each letter, which, together with the
clever way in which the ornamental flourishes are carried above and below
the line, has led even experienced printers to deny its being typography.
It is, nevertheless, entirely from cast types. A copy in good condition
costs about L50.
Many years since I purchased, at Messrs. Sotheby's, a large lot of MS.
leaves on vellum, some being whole sections of a book, but mostly single
leaves. Many were so mutilated by the excision of initials as to be
worthless, but those with poor initials, or with none, were quite good,
and when sorted out I found I had got large portions of nearly twenty
different MSS., mostly Horae, showing twelve varieties of fifteenth
century handwriting in Latin, French, Dutch, and German. I had each sort
bound separately, and they now form an interesting collection.
Portrait collectors have destroyed many books by abstracting the
frontispiece to add to their treasures, and when once a book is made
imperfect, its march to destruction is rapid. This is why books like
Atkyns' "Origin and Growth of Printing," 4o, 1664, have become impossible
to get.
When issued, Atkyns' pamphlet had a fine frontispiece, by Logan,
containing portraits of King Charles II, attended by Archbishop Sheldon,
the Duke of Albermarle, and the Earl of Clarendon. As portraits of these
celebrities (excepting, of course, the King) are extremely rare,
collectors have bought up this 4o tract of Atkyns', whenever it has been
offered, and torn away the frontispiece to adorn their collection.
This is why, if you take up any sale catalogue of old books, you are
certain to find here and there, appended to the description,﹃Wanting the
title,﹄"Wanting two plates," or "Wanting the last page."
It is quite common to find in old MSS., especially fifteenth century, both
vellum and paper, the blank margins of leaves cut away. This will be from
the side edge or from the foot, and the recurrence of this mutilation
puzzled me for many years. It arose from the scarcity of paper in former
times, so that when a message had to be sent which required more
exactitude than could be entrusted to the stupid memory of a household
messenger, the Master or Chaplain went to the library, and, not having
paper to use, took down an old book, and cut from its broad margins one or
more slips to serve his present need.
I feel quite inclined to reckon among "enemies" those bibliomaniacs and
over-careful possessors, who, being unable to carry their treasures into
the next world, do all they can to hinder their usefulness in this. What a
difficulty there is to obtain admission to the curious library of old
Samuel Pepys, the well-known diarist. There it is at Magdalene College,
Cambridge, in the identical book-cases provided for the books by Pepys
himself; but no one can gain admission except in company of two Fellows of
the College, and if a single book be lost, the whole library goes away to
a neighbouring college. However willing and anxious to oblige, it is
evident that no one can use the library at the expense of the time, if not
temper, of two Fellows. Some similar restrictions are in force at the
Teylerian Museum, Haarlem, where a lifelong imprisonment is inflicted upon
its many treasures.
Some centuries ago a valuable collection of books was left to the
Guildford Endowed Grammar School. The schoolmaster was to be held
personally responsible for the safety of every volume, which, if lost, he
was bound to replace. I am told that one master, to minimize his risk as
much as possible, took the following barbarous course:—As soon as he
was in possession, he raised the boards of the schoolroom floor, and,
having carefully packed all the books between the joists, had the boards
nailed down again. Little recked he how many rats and mice made their
nests there; he was bound to account some day for every single volume, and
he saw no way so safe as rigid imprisonment.
The late Sir Thomas Phillipps, of Middle Hill, was a remarkable instance
of a bibliotaph. He bought bibliographical treasures simply to bury them.
His mansion was crammed with books; he purchased whole libraries, and
never even saw what he had bought. Among some of his purchases was the
first book printed in the English language,﹃The Recuyell of the Histories
of Troye,﹄translated and printed by William Caxton, for the Duchess of
Burgundy, sister to our Edward IV. It is true, though almost incredible,
that Sir Thomas could never find this volume, although it is doubtless
still in the collection, and no wonder, when cases of books bought twenty
years before his death were never opened, and the only knowledge of their
contents which he possessed was the Sale Catalogue or the bookseller's
invoice.
"You may trace him oft
By scars which his activity has left
Upon our shelves and volumes. * * *
He who with pocket-knife will cut the edge
Of luckless panel or of prominent book,
Detaching with a stroke a label here, a back-band there."
Excursion III, 83.
Pleased, too, are they, if, with mouths full of candy, and sticky fingers,
they can pull in and out the books on your bottom shelves, little knowing
the damage and pain they will cause. One would fain cry out, calling on
the Shade of Horace to pardon the false quantity—
『Magna movet stomacho fastidia, si puer unctis
Tractavit volumen manibus.』 Sat. IV.
What boys CAN do may be gathered from the following true story, sent me by
a correspondent who was the immediate sufferer:—
One summer day he met in town an acquaintance who for many years had been
abroad; and finding his appetite for old books as keen as ever, invited
him home to have a mental feed upon "fifteeners" and other bibliographical
dainties, preliminary to the coarser pleasures enjoyed at the
dinner-table. The "home" was an old mansion in the outskirts of London,
whose very architecture was suggestive of black-letter and sheep-skin. The
weather, alas! was rainy, and, as they approached the house, loud peals of
laughter reached their ears. The children were keeping a birthday with a
few young friends. The damp forbad all outdoor play, and, having been left
too much to their own devices, they had invaded the library. It was just
after the Battle of Balaclava, and the heroism of the combatants on that
hard-fought field was in everybody's mouth. So the mischievous young imps
divided themselves into two opposing camps—Britons and Russians. The
Russian division was just inside the door, behind ramparts formed of old
folios and quartos taken from the bottom shelves and piled to the height
of about four feet. It was a wall of old fathers, fifteenth century
chronicles, county histories, Chaucer, Lydgate, and such like. Some few
yards off were the Britishers, provided with heaps of small books as
missiles, with which they kept up a skirmishing cannonade against the foe.
Imagine the tableau! Two elderly gentlemen enter hurriedly, paterfamilias
receiving, quite unintentionally, the first edition of "Paradise Lost" in
the pit of his stomach, his friend narrowly escaping a closer personal
acquaintance with a quarto Hamlet than he had ever had before. Finale:
great outburst of wrath, and rapid retreat of the combatants, many wounded
(volumes) being left on the field.
POSTSCRIPTUM.
ALTHOUGH, strictly speaking, the following anecdote does not illustrate
any form of real injury to books, it is so racy, and in these days of
extravagant biddings so tantalizing, that I must step just outside the
strict line of pertinence in order to place it on record, It was sent to
me, as a personal experience, by my friend, Mr. George Clulow, a
well-known bibliophile, and "Xylographer" to﹃Ye Sette of ye Odde
Volumes.﹄The date is 1881. He writes:—
"Apropos of the Gainsborough 'find,' of which you tell in 'The
Enemies of Books,' I should like to narrate an experience of my own, of
some twenty years ago:
"Late one evening, at my father's house, I saw a catalogue of a sale of
furniture, farm implements and books, which was announced to take place on
the following morning at a country rectory in Derbyshire, some four miles
from the nearest railway station.
"It was summer time—the country at its best—and with the
attraction of an old book, I decided on a day's holiday, and eight o'clock
the next morning found me in the train for C——, and after a
variation in my programme, caused by my having walked three miles west
before I discovered that my destination was three miles east of the
railway station, I arrived at the rectory at noon, and found assembled
some thirty or forty of the neighbouring farmers, their wives,
men-servants and maid-servants, all seemingly bent on a day's idling,
rather than business. The sale was announced for noon, but it was an hour
later before the auctioneer put in an appearance, and the first operation
in which he took part, and in which he invited my assistance, was to make
a hearty meal of bread and cheese and beer in the rectory kitchen. This
over, the business of the day began by a sundry collection of pots, pans,
and kettles being brought to the competition of the public, followed by
some lots of bedding, etc. The catalogue gave books as the first part of
the sale, and, as three o'clock was reached, my patience was gone, and I
protested to the auctioneer against his not selling in accordance with his
catalogue. To this he replied that there was not time enough, and that he
would sell the books to-morrow! This was too much for me, and I suggested
that he had broken faith with the buyers, and had brought me to C——
on a false pretence. This, however, did not seem to disturb his good
humour, or to make him unhappy, and his answer was to call 'Bill,' who was
acting as porter, and to tell him to give the gentleman the key of the
'book room,' and to bring down any of the books he might pick out, and he
'would sell 'em.' I followed 'Bill,' and soon found myself in a charming
nook of a library, full of books, mostly old divinity, but with a large
number of the best miscellaneous literature of the sixteenth century,
English and foreign. A very short look over the shelves produced some
thirty Black Letter books, three or four illuminated missals, and some
book rarities of a more recent date. 'Bill' took them downstairs, and I
wondered what would happen! I was not long in doubt, for book by book, and
in lots of two and three, my selection was knocked down in rapid
succession, at prices varying from 1s. 6d. to 3s. 6d.,
this latter sum seeming to be the utmost limit to the speculative turn of
my competitors. The bonne bouche of the lot was, however, kept back
by the auctioneer, because, as he said, it was 'a pretty book,' and I
began to respect his critical judgment, for 'a pretty book' it was, being
a large paper copy of Dibdin's Bibliographical Decameron, three volumes,
in the original binding. Suffice it to say that, including this charming
book, my purchases did not amount to L13, and I had pretty well a
cart-load of books for my money—more than I wanted much! Having
brought them home, I 'weeded them out,' and the 'weeding' realised four
times what I gave for the whole, leaving me with some real book treasures.
"Some weeks afterwards I heard that the remainder of the books were
literally treated as waste lumber, and carted off to the neighbouring
town, and were to be had, any one of them, for sixpence, from a cobbler
who had allowed his shop to be used as a store house for them. The news of
their being there reached the ears of an old bookseller in one of the
large towns, and he, I think, cleared out the lot. So curious an instance
of the most total ignorance on the part of the sellers, and I may add on
the part of the possible buyers also, I think is worth noting."
How would the reader in this Year of Grace, 1887, like such an experience
as that?
Academy, The, 23.
Acanis eruditus, 77, 78.
Acts of the Apostles, quoted, 4.
Aglossa pinguinalis, 76.
Albermarle (Duke of), portrait by Logan, 126.
Althorp library, 124.
Anderson (Sir C.), 55.
Anobium paniceum, 77, 78.
Anobium pertinax, 77, 78, 87, 88.
Antiquary, The, 54.
Antwerp, Monks at, 57, 58.
Asbestos fire, 27.
Ashburnham House, Westminster, 10.
Asiarch, an, 7.
Athens, Bookworm from, 81.
Atkyns' Origin and Growth of Printing, 126.
Auctioneer, story of, 145.
Austin Friars, 15.
Bagford (John), the biblioclast, r: 18.
Balaclava, battle of, 143.
Bale, the antiquary, 9.
Bandinel (Dr.), 87, 88.
Beedham, B., 52.
Bible, the first printed, burnt at Strasbourg, 13.
— the "bug" edition, 95.
Bibliophile, pleasures of a, 153.
Bibliotaph, a, 129.
Bibliotheca Ecclesiae Londino-Belgicae, 16.
Binder's creed, 31.
— plough, 105.
Binding, care to be taken of, 134.
— quality of good, 104.
Bird (Rev. -), 55.
Birdsall (Mr.), bookbinder, 80.
Birmingham Riots, 11.
Black-beetles, enemies of books, 94.
Black-letter books in United States, 91.
Blatta germanica, 65.
Boccaccio, 48-50.
Bodleian, hookworms at, 87.
Bookbinders as enemies of books, 103.
Books, absurd lettering, 111.
— burnt at Carthage; at Ephesus, 4.
— burnt in Fire of London, 10.
— burnt by Saracens, 3.
— captured by Corsairs, 18.
— cleaning of, 114.
— deprived of title pages, 118, 119.
Books destroyed at the Reformation, Si.
— dried in an attic, 16.
— examination of old covers, 116.
— how to dust them, 134.
— injured by hacking, i x i.
— lost at sea, 17, 18.
— margin reduced to size, 111.
— mildew in, 136.
— from monasteries destroyed, 9.
— restoration when injured, 114.
— restored after a fire, 15.
— scarce before printing, 2.
— sold to a cobbler, 52, 149.
— too tight on shelves, 137.
— their claims to be preserved, 151.
— used to bake "pyes," 10.
— which scratch one another, 134.
Book-sale in Derbyshire, 145.
Bookworm, the, 67-93.
— attempt to breed, 81-3.
— from Greece, 82.
— in paper box, 89.
— in United States, 91.
Bookworms' progress through books, 84.
— race by, 86.
Bosses on books, 135.
Boys injuring books, 139.
— in library, story of, 140.
Brighton, black letter fragments, 59.
British Museum, Boccaccio's Fall of Princes, 61.
British Museum free from the "worm," 83.
— burnt book exhibited at, 11.
Brown spots in books, 24.
Bruchium, 3.
Burckhardt's Arabic MSS., 77.
"Bug" Bible, 95.
Burgundy (Duchess of), 130.
Cambridge Market, 97.
Caskets (the three), Shakspeare, 60.
Caspari (Mr.), a collector, 124.
Cassin (Convent of Mount), 49.
Caxton, William, 130.
—his use of waste leaves, 90.
—Canterbury Tales, used to light a fire, 53.
— Golden Legend, ditto, 52.
—Lyf of oure Ladye, 89.
Caxtons saturated by rain, 22.
—spoilt in binding, 107.
—discovered in British Museum, 108.
Charles II, portrait by Logan, 126.
Chasles (Philarete), 52.
Child tearing books, 139.
Children as enemies of books, 138.
Choir boys injuring MSS., 124.
Christians burnt heathen MSS., 7.
early, 6.
Clarendon (Earl of), portrait by Logan, 126.
Clasps on books, injury from, 135.
Clergymen as biblioclasts, 64.
Clulow (Mr. George), 144.
Coal fires objectionable in libraries, 27.
Codfish, book eaten by a, 96.
Cold injures books, 26.
Collectors as enemies of books, 117.
College quadrangle, 41.
Colophon in Schoeffer's book, 123.
Colophons (collections of), I IS.
Commonwealth quartos, 44.
Communal libraries in France, 48.
Cotton library; partially burnt, 10.
Cowper, the poet, on burnt libraries, 12.
Crambus pinguinalis, 76.
Cremona, books destroyed at, 8.
Croton bug, 95.
Damp, an enemy of books, 24.
Dante, 50.
— The Inferno, 106.
Derbyshire, book sale in, 145.
Dermestes vulpinus, 89.
De Rome, the binder, 47, 48, 110.
De Thou, 110.
Devil worship, 5.
Devon and Exeter Museum, 101.
Diana, Temple of, 6.
Dibdin (Dr.), 110.
—sale of his Decameron, 148.
—his books, 25.
D'Israeli (B.), 17.
Doraston (J.), Poem on Bookworne, 67, 76.
Dust, an enemy of books, 39.
— and neglect in a library, 39-50, 133.
Dusting books-how to do it, 136.
Dutch Church burnt, 15.
— library at Guildhall, 16.
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 53.
Edmonds (Mr.), bookseller, 58.
Edward IV, 130.
Edwards (Mr.), bookseller, 18.
Electric light in British Museum, 32.
Ephesus, 5.
"Eracles," 111.
"Evil eye," the, 6.
"Excursion, The," 139.
Fire, an enemy of books, 1-16.
— of London, 10.
Flint (Weston), account of black-beetles in New York
libraries, 95.
Folklore, ancient, 5.
"Foxey" books, 25.
Francis (St.) and the friars, 37.
French Protestant Church, 53.
Frith (John), 96.
Froissart's Chronicles, 110.
Frost in a library, 26.
Garnett (Dr.), 81.
Gas injurious, 29-38,
Gatty's (Mrs.) Parables, 76.
German Army at Strasburg, U.
Gesta Romanorum, 66.
Gibbon, the historian, 2.
Glass cases preservative of books, 27.
Golden Legend, by Caxton, 52.
Gordon Riots, 11.
Government officials as biblioclasts, 65.
Grenville (Rt. Hon. Thos.), 56.
Guildford, library at school, 129.
Guildhall, London, library at, 0.
Gutenberg, 123.
— documents concerning, burnt, 13,
Gwyn, Nell, housekeeping book of, 65.
"Gyp" brushing clothes in a library, 44.
Hannett, on bookbinding, 76.
Havergal (Rev. F. T.), 76.
Heathens burnt Christian MSS., 7.
Heating libraries, 27.
Hebrew books burnt, 8.
Hereford Cathedral library, 76.
Hickman family, 56.
Histories of Troy, 111.
Holme (Mr.), 77.
Hooke (R.), his Micrographia, 71-75.
Horace's Satires, 140.
Hot water pipes for libraries, 26.
House-fly, an enemy of books, 102.
Hudde, Heer, a story of, 17.
Hwqhrey's History of Writing, 138.
Hypothenemus eruditus, 76.
Ignorance and Bigotry, P-66.
Illuminated letters fatal to books, 51.
— initials, collections of, 123.
Indulgence of 15th Century spoilt by a binder, 109.
Inquisition in Holland, 63.
Kirby and Spence on Entomologists, 75, 101.
Knobs of metal on bindings, 135.
Koran, The, 7.
Lamberhurst, 61.
Lamport Hall, 58.
Lansdowne Collection of MSS., 60.
Latterbury, copy of, at St. Martin's, 54.
Leather destroyed by gas, 30.
Lepisma, 96.
— mistaken for bookworm, 75.
Libraries
burnt: by Caesar, 3.
—- at Dutch Church, 15.
—- at Strasbourg, 13.
neglected in England, 15, 22, 40.
at Alexandria, 3.
of the Ptolemies) 3.
Library Journal, The, 94.
Lincoln Cathedral MSS., 124.
Lincolne Nosegaye, 124.
London Institution, 31.
Lubbock (Sir J.), 90.
Luke's, St., account of destruction of books, 4.
Luxe des Livres, 47.
Luxury and learning, 42.
Machlinia, book printed by, 106.
Magdalene College, Cambridge, 128.
Maitland (Rev. S. R.), 54.
Mansfield (Lord), ij.
MS. Plays burnt, 60.
Manuscripts, fragments of, 126.
Margins of books cut away, 49, 127.
Maximilian (The Emperor), 125.
Mazarin library, Caxton in, 52.
Metamorphoses of Ovid, by Caxton, 10.
Micrographia, by R. Hooke, 71.
Middleburgh, 17.
Mildew in books, 136.
Minorite friars, 37.
Missal illuminations, sale of, 119.
Mohammed's reason for destroying books, 7.
Mohammed II throws books into the sea, 21.
Monks at Monte Cassino, 49.
Mould in books, 24.
Mount Cassin, library at, 50.
Moxon's Mechanic Exercises, 115.
Muller (M.), of Amsterdam, 62.
Newmarsh (Rev. C. F.), 54.
Niptus Hololeucos, 101.
Noble (Mr.), on Parish Registers, 61.
Notes and Queries, 77.
Oak Chest, 44.
OEcophora pseudospretella, 79.
Offer Collection of Bunyans, 14.
On, Priests of, 69.
Overall (Mr.), Librarian at Guildhall, 16.
Ovid, Metamorphoses by Caxton, 10.
Oxenforde, Lyf of therle, 10.
Paper improperly bleached, 25.
Papyrus, 68.
Paradise Lost, 142.
Parchment, slips of, in old books, 112.
Parish Registers, carelessness, 62.
Parnell's Ode, 70.
Patent Office, destruction of literature at, 65.
Paternoster Row, io.
Paul, St., 6.
Pedlar buying old books, 54, 55.
Peignot and hookworms, 79.
Pepys (Samuel), his library, 128.
Petit (Pierre), poem on bookworm, 70.
Philadelphia, wormhole at, 92.
Phillipps (Sir Thos.), 129.
Pieces of silver or denarii, 5.
Pinelli (Maffei), library of, 18.
Plantin Museum, 122.
policemen in Ephesus, 7.
Portrait collectors, 127.
Priestley (Dr.), library burnt, 11, 12.
Printers, the first, 13.
Printers' marks, collection of, 119.
— ink and bookworms, 80.
Probrue (Mr.), 120.
Ptolemies, the Egyptian, 3.
Puttick and Simpson, 15.
Pynson's Fall of Princes, 61.
Queen Elizabeth's prayer-book, 98.
Quaint titles, collections of, 121.
Quadrangle of an old College described) 41.
Rain an enemy to books, 21.
Rats eat books, 97.
Recollet monks of Antwerp, 57.
-Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye, 130.
Reformation, destruction of books at, 9.
Restoration of burnt books, 11.
Richard of Bury, 47.
Ringwalt's Encyclopaedia, 92.
Rivets on books, 135.
Rood and Hunte, 53.
Rot caused by rain, 21.
Royal Society, London, 71.
Rubens' engraved titles in Plantin Museum, 122.
— autograph receipts, 122.
Ruins of fire at Sotheby and Wilkinson's, 14.
Rye (W. B.), 61, 83.
St. Albans, Boke of, 54.
St. Martin's-le-Grand, French church, 53.
St. Paul's Cathedral, books burnt in vaults of, 10.
Sale catalogues, extracts from, 119.
Schoeffer (P.), 123.
Schonsperger (Hans), 125.
Schoolmaster and endowed library, 129.
Scorched book at British Museum, 11.
Scrolls of magic, 6.
Serpent worship, 5.
Servants and children as enemies of books, 131-144.
Shakesperian discoveries, 58.
"Shavings" of binders, 31.
Sheldon (Archbishop), portrait by Logan, 126.
Sib's Bowels opened, 121.
Smith (Mr.), Brighton bookseller, 64.
Sotheby and Wilkinson, 125.
— fire at their rooms, 14.
Spring clean, horrors of, 133.
Stark (Mr.), bookseller, 55-58.
Stealing a Caxton, 54.
Steam press, 40.
Strasbourg, siege of, 13.
Sun-light of gas, 29, 32.
Sun worship, 5.
Sylvester's Laws of Verse, 71.
Taylor, the water-poet, 121.
Teylerian Museum, Haarlem, 128.
Theurdanck, prints in, 125.
Thonock Hall, library Of, 56.
Timmins (Mr.), 50.
Title-pages, collections sold, 122.
— volumes of, 118.
Title-pages, old Dutch, 120.
Tomicus Typographus, iox.
Utramontane Society, called "Old paper," 63,
Unitarian library, 13,
Universities destroy books, 9.
Value of books burnt by St. Paul, 4.
Vanderberg (M.), 57.
Vermin book-enemies, 94-102.
Pox Piscis, 96.
Washing old books, x6.
Water an enemy of books, 17-28.
Waterhouse (Mr.), Si.
Werdet (Edmond), 48, 57.
Westbrook (W. J.), 102.
Westminster Chapter-house, 97.
— skeletons of rats, 97.
White (Adam), 83.
Wolfenbuttel, library at, 23.
Woodcuts, a Caxton celebration, 124.
Wynken de Worde, fragment, 59.
Ximenes (Cardinal) destroys copies of the Koran, 8.
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