George Thomason and his labours.
George Thomason, its collector, was an eminent London bookseller, of royalist sympathies, who watched intensely the progress of the great struggle between King and Parliament, Cavalier and Roundhead, and who had noted with professional keenness how strikingly the printing press was made to mirror, almost from day to day, the strife of senators in council, as well as that of soldiers in the field. He had seized, in 1641, the idea of helping posterity the better to realize every phase of the great conflict, the oncoming of which many men had long foreseen, by gathering everything which came out in print—as far as vigilant industry could do so—whether belonging to literature, and to the obvious materials of history, or merely subserving the most trivial need of the passing moment. He failed, of course, to secure everything; but his endeavour was wonderfully successful, on the whole. He also gathered many manuscripts which no printer in England dared to put into type. And he obtained a large number of political and historical pieces, bearing on English affairs, which had issued from foreign presses; their authors being sometimes foreign observers of the struggle, but more frequently British refugees.
Charles the First congratulated Thomason on the utility of his idea. More than once the King was able to gratify his curiosity by borrowing some tract or other which only our collector was known to possess. The Parliament, meanwhile, was far from exhibiting any literary sympathies in the undertaking. Some of its leaders loved freedom of the press when it was seen to be a channel for urging forward their peculiar doctrines and aims, but had the gravest doubts about its policy when it manifestly helped their opponents and gave back blow for blow. The ‘Thomason Collection’ came to be viewed, at length, much in the light in which soldiers view an enemy’s battery. If it could be captured and carried off, some of the pieces might be turned against the enemy. If the attempt at complete capture should miscarry, a sudden sally might at least enable the assailants to destroy what they had failed to secure.
Hence it was that the poor Collector came to be in such alarm about the possible fate of his treasures that he had them repeatedly packed into cases, and, as the successes of the war veered to and fro, sent them, at one time, far to the south of London; at another time, as far to the east; now, smuggled them, concealed between the real and false tops of tables, into a city warehouse; and anon made a colourable sale of them to the University of Oxford.
When the King enjoyed his own again, the Collection was offered, as fit to be made a royal one. It contained more than thirty-three thousand separate publications—bound in about 2,200 volumes—issued between 1640 and 1662 inclusive. But Charles the Second was busied with pursuits having little to do with any kind of learning, and was ill inclined, as we have seen already, to burden his Treasury for the enrichment of his Library. Sir Thomas Bodley’s Trustees at Oxford refused the offer, in their turn, under a very different but scarcely less obstructive pressure. Their excellent founder had formed peculiar and stringent views about the literature worthy of a great University. He had warned them against stuffing his library with ‘mere baggage books.’ And so future Bodleian curators had, in another age, to buy with large bank notes many things which their predecessors could have bought with small silver coins;—just as in the ancient story.
The unfortunate Collection went a-begging. The books passed from hand to hand, somewhat, it would seem, by way of pledge or mortgage. They had cost a large sum of money, and a larger amount of toil. When his expectations were at their best the first owner, it is said, refused several thousands of pounds for them. |The Acquirement of the Thomason Collection by George III.| His ultimate successors in the possession were glad, in 1762, to accept, at the hands of King George the Third, three hundred pounds. The purchase was recommended to him by Thomas Hollis, and also by Lord Bute, as a serviceable addition to the newly founded Museum. |1762.| As all readers now know, it has largely subserved our history already. It is not less certain that the ‘Thomason Collection’ embodies a store of information yet unused.
The Brander Fossils.
1766.
The next augmentor of the Museum was one of its Trustees, Gustavus Brander, distinguished as a promoter of natural science, and more especially of mineralogy and palæontology in the early stages of their study in England. A remarkable collection of fossils found in Hampshire, in the London Clay, was given by Mr. Brander to the Public, after having been, at his cost, carefully examined and described by Dr. Solander. It was the first notable contribution to the grand series of specimens in palæontology which, in their combination, have made the British Museum the most important of all repositories in that department of science.
To the Zoological Collections, the additions made, whether by gift or by purchase—save as the result, more or less direct, of ‘Voyages of Discovery,’ which will be noticed presently—were for many years very unimportant. The first purchase worthy of record was a collection of stuffed birds, formed in Holland, and acquired, in 1769, for four hundred and sixty pounds. This purchase was made by the Trust.