Richard de Bury was no unsocial bookworm; for whilst he loved to seek the intercourse of the learned dead, he was far from being regardless of the living. Next to his clasped vellum tomes, nothing afforded him so much delight as an erudite disputation with his chaplains, who were mostly men of acknowledged learning and talent; among them were "Thomas Bradwardyn, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury; and Richard Fitz-Raufe, afterwards Archbishop of Armagh; Walter Burley, John Maudyt, Robert Holcote, Richard of Kilwington, all Doctors in Theology, omnes Doctores in Theologia; Richard Benworth, afterwards Bishop of London, and Walter Segraffe, afterwards Bishop of Chester;"[204] with these congenial spirits Richard de Bury held long and pleasing conversations, doubtless full of old bookwisdom and quaint Gothic lore, derived from still quainter volumes; and after meals I dare say they discussed the choice volume which had been read during their repast, as was the pious custom of those old days, and which was not neglected by De Bury, for "his manner was at dinner and supper time to have some good booke read unto him."[205]
And now in bidding farewell to the illustrious Aungraville—for little more is known of his biography—let me not forget to pay a passing tribute of respect to his private character, which is right worthy of a cherished remembrance, and derives its principal lustre from the eminent degree in which he was endowed with the greatest of Christian virtues, and which, when practised with sincerity, covereth a multitude of sins; his charity, indeed, forms a delightful trait in the character of that great man; every week he distributed food to the poor; eight quarters of wheat octo quarteria frumenti, and the fragments from his own table comforted the indigent of his church; and always when he journeyed from Newcastle to Durham, he distributed twelve marks in relieving the distresses of the poor; from Durham to Stockton eight marks; and from the same place to his palace at Aukeland five marks; and and when he rode from Durham to Middleham he gave away one hundred shillings.[206] Living in troublous times, we do not find his name coupled with any great achievement in the political sphere; his talents were not the most propitious for a statesman among the fierce barons of the fourteenth century; his spirit loved converse with the departed great, and shone more to advantage in the quite closet of the bibliomaniac, or in fulfilling the benevolent duties of a bishop. Yet he was successful in all that the ambition of a statesman could desire, the friend and confidant of his king; holding the highest offices in the state compatible with his ecclesiastical position, with wealth in abundance, and blessed with the friendship of the learned and the good, we find little in his earthly career to darken the current of his existence, or to disturb the last hours of a life of near three score years. He died lamented, honored, and esteemed, at Aukeland palace, on the fourteenth of April, in the year 1345, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and was buried with all due solemnity before the altar of the blessed Mary Magdalene, at the south angle of the church of Durham. His bones are now mingled with the dust and gone, but his memory is engraven on tablets of life; the hearts of all bibliomaniacs love and esteem his name for the many virtues with which it was adorned, and delight to chat with his choice old spirit in the Philobiblon, so congenial to their bookish souls. No doubt the illustrious example of Richard de Bury tended materially to spread far and wide the spirit of bibliomania. It certainly operated powerfully on the monks of Durham, who not only by transcribing, but at the cost of considerable sums of money, greatly increased their library. A catalogue of the collection, taken some forty years after the death of De Bury, is preserved to this day at Durham, and shows how considerably they augmented it during a space of two hundred years, or from the time when the former list was written. If the bibliomaniac can obtain a sight of this ancient catalogue, he will dwell over it with astonishment and delight—immaculate volumes of Scripture—fathers and classics bespeak its richness and extent, and Robert of Langchester, the librarian who wrote it, with pious preference places first on the list the magnificent Bible which bishop Hugo gave them many years before. This rare biblical treasure, then the pride and glory of the collection, is now in the Durham Library; but to look upon that fair manuscript will make the blood run cold—barbarous desecration has been committed by some bibliopegistical hand; the splendid illuminations so rich and spirited, which adorned the beauteous tomes, dazzled an ignorant mind, who cut them out and robbed it of half its interest and value.
From near 600 volumes which the list enumerates, I cannot refrain from naming two or three. I have searched over its biblical department in vain to discover mention of the celebrated "Saint Cuthbert's Gospels." It is surprising they should have forgotten so rich a gem, for although four copies of the Gospels appear, not one of them answers to its description; two are specified as "non glos;" it could not have been either of those, another, the most interesting of the whole, is recorded as the venerable Bede's own copy! What bibliophile can look unmoved upon those time-honored pages, without indeed all the warmth of his booklove kindling forth into a very frenzy of rapture and veneration! So fairly written, and so accurately transcribed, it is one of the most precious of the many gems which now crowd the shelves of the Durham Library, and is well worth a pilgrimage to view it.[207] But this cannot be St. Cuthbert's Gospels, and the remaining copy is mentioned as "Quarteur Evangelum," fol. ii. "se levantem;" now I have looked at the splendid volume in the British Museum, to see if the catchword answered to this description, but it does not; so it cannot be this, which I might have imagined without the trouble of a research, for if it was, they surely would not have forgotten to mention its celebrated coopertoria.
Passing a splendid array of Scriptures whole and in parts, for there was no paucity of sacred volumes in that old monkish library, and fathers, doctors of the Church, schoolmen, lives of saints, chronicles, profane writers, philosophical and logical treatises, medical works, grammars, and books of devotion, we are particularly struck with the appearance of so many fine classical authors. Works of Virgil (including the Æneid), Pompeius Trogus, Claudius, Juvenal, Terence, Ovid, Prudentius, Quintilian, Cicero, Bœthius, and a host of others are in abundance, and form a catalogue rendered doubly exciting to the bibliophile by the insertion of an occasional note, which tells of its antiquity,[208] rarity, or value. In some of the volumes a curious inscription was inserted, thundering a curse upon any who would dare to pilfer it from the library, and for so sacrilegious a crime, calling down upon them the maledictions of Saints Maria, Oswald, Cuthbert, and Benedict.[209] A volume containing the lives of St. Cuthbert, St. Oswald, and St. Aydani, is described as "Liber speciales et preciosus cum signaculo deaurato."
Thomas Langley, who was chancellor of England and bishop of Durham in the year 1406, collected many choice books, and left some of them to the library of Durham church; among them a copy of Lyra's Commentaries stands conspicuous; he also bequeathed a number of volumes to many of his private friends.
There are few monastic libraries whose progress we can trace with so much satisfaction as the one now under consideration, for we have another catalogue compiled during the librarianship of John Tyshbourne, in the year 1416,[210] in which many errors appearing in the former ones are carefully corrected; books which subsequent to that time had been lost or stolen are here accounted for; many had been sent to the students at Oxford, and others have notes appended, implying to whom the volume had been lent; thus to a "Flores Bernardi," occurs "Prior debit, I Kempe Episcopi Londoni." It is, next to Monk Henry's of Canterbury, one of the best of all the monkish catalogues I have seen; not so much for its extent, as that here and there it fully partakes of the character of a catalogue raisonné; for terse sentences are affixed to some of the more remarkable volumes, briefly descriptive of their value; a circumstance seldom observable in these early attempts at bibliography.
In taking leave of Durham library, need I say that the bibliomaniacs who flourished there in the olden time, not only collected their books with so much industry, but knew well how to use them too. The reader is doubtless aware how many learned men dwelled in monkish time within those ancient walls; and if he is inquisitive about such things has often enjoyed a few hours of pleasant chat over the historic pages of Symeon of Durham,[211] Turgot and Wessington,[212] and has often heard of brothers Lawrence,[213] Reginald,[214] and Bolton; but although unheeded now, many a monkish bookworm, glorying in the strict observance of Christian humility, and so unknown to fame, lies buried beneath that splendid edifice, as many monuments and funeral tablets testify and speak in high favor of the great men of Durham. If the reader should perchance to wander near that place, his eye will be attracted by many of these memorials of the dead; and a few hours spent in exploring them will serve to gain many additional facts to his antiquarian lore, and perhaps even something better too. For I know not a more suitable place, as far as outward circumstances are concerned, than an old sanctuary of God to prepare the mind and lead it to think of death and immortality. We read the names of great men long gone; of wealthy worldlings, whose fortunes have long been spent; of ambitious statesmen and doughty warriors, whose glory is fast fading as their costly mausoleums crumble in the hands of time, and whose stone tablets, green with the lichens' hue, manifest how futile it is to hope to gain immortality from stone, or purchase fame by the cold marble trophies of pompous grief; not that on their glassy surface the truth is always faithfully mirrored forth, even when the thoughts of holy men composed the eulogy; the tombs of old knew as well how to lie as now, and even ascetic monks could become too warm in their praises of departed worth; for whilst they blamed the great man living, with Christian charity they thought only of his virtues when they had nothing but his body left, and murmured long prayers, said tedious masses, and kept midnight vigils for his soul. For had he not shown his love to God by his munificence to His Church on earth? Benedicite, saith the monks.
FOOTNOTES:
[153] Bede's Eccles. Hist., B. iii. c. xvi.