Bodley was therefore well-equipped for a career of public life, and worthy to ascend that admirable ladder which the Queen set up through the Chancellors of the two Universities, to attract the best men of the time to the service of the state. After two years’ preliminary employment in London his diplomatic career opened in 1585. It continued till 1598, when his activity and statesmanship had shewn itself in missions to Denmark, Germany, France and the Low Countries. In 1597 he married a rich widow, Mrs. Anne Ball (née Carey), of Totnes, but had no family by her.[2]
At last, at the age of fifty-two, being tired of statecraft and the Court, and “for the loue” he bore to his “reuerend Mother the Vniversitie of Oxon,” and in order to “do the true part of a profitable member in the State” he decided to offer to restore the old University library, or in his own memorable words “examining exactlye for the rest of my life, what course I might take, and haueing sowght (as I thought) all the wayes to the wood, to select the most proper, I concluded at the last, to set vp my Staffe at the Librarie dore in Oxon; being throwghly perswaded, that in my solitude, and surcease from the Commonwealth affayers, I coulde not busie my selfe to better purpose, then by redusing that place (which then in euery part laye ruined and wast) to the publique vse of Studients. For the effecting whereof, I found my selfe furnished in a competent proportion, of such fower kindes of ayds, as vnles I had them all, there was no hope of good successe: for without some kinde of knowledg, as well in the learned and moderne tongues, as in sundry other sorts of Scholasticall literature, without some purse habilitie to goe throwgh with the charge, without very great store of honorable friends, to further the designe, and without speciall good leasure to follow such a worke, it could but have proued a vayne attempt and inconsiderate.” To have knowledge what to do, money to do it, friends to help it, and leisure to see it done—on those four qualifications the Founder based his offer to the University, dated February 23, 1598. The old dismantled room with its bare fifteenth century walls was there, making its mute appeal, and at last the Hour and the Man came. The “spacious times of great Elizabeth” provided, not a youthful enthusiast, but a man of world-wide experience, with all the learning which Oxford could impart, with ample means, with friends at Court, and with a fixed purpose for his years of retirement.
The New Library.
The offer was of course accepted with gratitude, and the work began at once. In four and a half years, on Monday, November 8, 1602, the new public library of the University[3] was solemnly opened, with about two thousand volumes. The appearance of the room can be gathered from Bodley’s own letters and the existing fittings. On the [frontispiece] of the present volume it is marked OLD READING ROOM, an oblong chamber standing by itself, with ten alcoves on either side, each with its own window, and a bookcase at right angles to the wall, which separates each study from its neighbours. The entrance was by a staircase at the West or Selden end, in a porch of the Divinity School below. At the farthest (or East) end of the room the two last alcoves were the Librarian’s and Underkeeper’s studies, and there was an East window to light the central passage, facing which window were two closed cupboards or “Archives” on each side of the gangway. The present room is so little altered from its first condition that all these features can be still recognised or understood. In 1602 the two thousand volumes would occupy about one quarter of the accommodation, and no doubt the folios were soon chained in their places, while the quartos and octavos were relegated to the cupboards and to a gallery over the door at the West end. These latter, having no chains, were given out as required. The windows, painted ceiling, bookcases and cupboards remain as in 1602, but the central passage was several inches lower than the floor of the alcoves. There is even a register of the names of the readers and whether they came in the morning (8-11) or afternoon (2-5, or 1-4, according to the season), for the whole of the first year. Moreover there is a catalogue of the entire contents of the shelves in the order in which the books stood on the opening day.
Dr. James.
Bodley’s first “Protobibliothecarius Bodleianus” was Thomas James,[4] who had issued an edition of Richard de Bury’s Philobiblon in 1598, and in 1600 the Ecloga Oxonio-Cantabrigiensis (catalogues of MSS. at Oxford and Cambridge), besides being well known as a learned defender of Protestantism. The appointment was probably formally made in 1602, when delegates were appointed to superintend the Library. His sole assistant for some years was the “Cleaner,” but some of the delegates were able to give informal help.
But, as may be well imagined, Bodley was in these early days a host in himself. All the details of management were referred to him, and as the Library had as yet no endowment, all the accessions by purchase were paid for by him. Fortunately a long series of letters from Bodley to James between 1601 and 1612 is preserved, and displays to us every stage of the evolution of the Bodleian, and also the humorous conflicts between the Founder, pursuing an ideal and controlling at every point the management of his institution, and his Librarian, a student intent on his own literary aims, obstinate, and not over desirous of spending the six hours a day at the Library which Bodley considered reasonable, in addition to the four he needed for his own work. Bodley wished his Librarians to be “some one that is noted and knowen for a diligent Student, and in all his conuersation to be trustie, actiue, and discreete, a graduat also and a Linguist, not encombred with mariage, nor with a benefice of Cure,” and James greatly irritated him by extorting a most reluctant leave both to marry and to hold the Rectory of St. Aldate’s. The Founder’s style is racy and pertinent: when James desires an increase of his stipend of £22: 13: 4 a year, Bodley writes “I do not doubt but to give you very good satisfaction: but till your Travels [i.e. travails] and Troubles are seen to every Student, it will be best in my Opinion, not to charge the Spit with too much Roast-meat.” When benefactors are about, Bodley is specially alert in converting promise into performance: in a case of promise they “should be called on, with all the good speed that Conveniency, fit Time and good Manners will afford. For many Men’s Minds do alter so soon, as it will be requisite always to open the Poak, when the Pig is presented.”[5] The relations of the two were on the whole cordial, and James worked hard for the Library. The worth of the nascent foundation was recognized in 1604 by the conferment of knighthood on Bodley, and its permanent endowment began in 1609 by the gift by him of lands at Cookham and in Distaff Lane, London.[6]
King James I.
By 1605 the Library was in full working order, and two great events distinguish the year. On August 30 King James I paid a visit to the Library, examined various MSS., especially some Old English versions of the Bible, praised the “garden” whence came the “fruits” he had observed in University men, and in a burst of benevolence promised any precious and rare volumes from the royal libraries which Bodley might select.[7] Bodley was greatly excited about the royal visit, and even as early as June had warned James that his speech “must be short and sweet, and full of Stuff” and “may not exceed the Length of six Pater Nosters.” He ordered the Library to be well swept, the books cleansed from dust, “the Floor to be well washed and dried, and after rubbed with a little Rosemary: for a stronger sent I should not like.” Finally, he adds, “I know, as near as you can, you will frame your Meditation, to the King’s Pronunciation of i and au.”
First Catalogue.