Some of the best finds when libraries have been overhauled have been the curious old almanacs published when superstition was rife. The oldest, perhaps, were the clog almanacs, although some were common in Staffordshire until about 1820. The accompanying illustration (see Fig. [78]) was engraved in an old book referring to that county published more than a century ago. In Camden's Britannia some information is given in reference to these early clog almanacs, in which it is said holidays were distinguished by hieroglyphics; in some the Massacre of the Innocents was denoted by a drawn sword; SS. Simon and Jude's Day by a ship, because they were fishers; and St. George's Day by a horse. In the Norway clog almanacs St. Martin's Day is marked with a goose, the custom of eating a goose now being transferred to Michaelmas. In the illustration given in Fig. [78] the first section embraces January, February, and March; the second, April, May, and June; the third, July, August, and September; and the fourth, October, November, and December. Conspicuously inscribed on the clog will be noticed the ring for New Year's Day; the star denoting the Epiphany; the axe for St. Paul; February 14th is indicated by a lover's knot; a spear denotes St. George's Day in April; and May Day by a tree branch. The keys of St. Peter are noticed as indicating the 29th of June; the scales of St. Michael are seen at the end of September. St. Catherine's wheel figures in the middle of November, immediately under it being the somewhat large cross of St. Andrew. Other symbols will doubtless be recognized on this interesting relic.
The study of the almanac is not now one of the chief diversions of the fair sex. At one time, however, when ladies had fewer amusements than they have now, they spent much time poring over almanacs, and placed implicit trust in what they found recorded there, especially in the forecasts and prognostications for the future of those born on certain days and under so-called lucky or unlucky stars. One of the most popular calendars of olden time was "The Ladies' Diary or the Woman's Almanac," containing many delightful and entertaining particulars for the fair sex. Let us take, for example, a copy of that popular almanac for the year of grace 1749. On the cover there is a picture of the Queen. Alluding to the peace then prevailing are the lines:—
"Perch'd o'er this Realm, the ancient seat of Kings,
Now dove-like peace the sprig of laurel brings;
And British fair ones happy days shall see,
While George shall reign, and Britons still are free."
Another George is on the throne, and his consort Queen Mary is an ideal woman, and what to many is of the highest importance, Peace reigns in this country and Britons are still free!
Among the contents of that curious almanac are Latin and French enigmas, mathematical questions and paradoxes. The concluding paragraph for the dedication of that day is entitled "Truth's Moral Euclid"; the proposition given being:—
"Virtue promotes happiness, private and public.
Vice is destructive of happiness, private and public.
Honour is the reward of virtue."
One of the finest collections of old almanacs is in the Bodleian Library at Oxford—chiefly seventeenth-century productions. A still older almanac was the "Poor Robin" of 1664; another seventeenth-century almanac being the "Vox Stellarum" of Francis Moore, a quack doctor. In 1733 Benjamin Franklin published in Philadelphia his "Poor Richard's Almanac," noted for its verses, jests, and sayings. The monopoly once possessed by the Stationers' Company has long been broken down, and of later almanacs and calendars there is no end. Among the miniature books, the collection of which is much favoured now, are some very tiny almanacs, like the beautiful specimens of such a calendar given in Fig. [80], produced actual size, shown open and closed. This miniature almanac is printed on satin and is full of pleasing little pictures. It is the work of a French artist early in the nineteenth century, the pictures and their descriptions and the monthly calendars occupying alternate pages. The binding is of mother-o'-pearl, bound in ormolu and richly gilt and engraved. Some similar calendars in tiny leather bindings, beautifully tooled and ornamented in gold, are also collectable.
The Writing Table.
The writing table usually occupies an honoured place in the library. It may be a massive table of oak or a simple writing desk venerated on account of the great literary works which have been written upon it. It is no uncommon thing to read of large sums paid for a writing desk on which the manuscript of a famous book has been penned, and some of the writing tables upon which deeds of historical fame have been signed have gained a reputation and a money value out of all proportion to their curio or antiquarian merits. Not long ago the late King Edward presented to the Commonwealth of Australia the table on which the great Charter was signed, together with the inkstand and pen used on that occasion. Those will be relics for future generations to value.
The table appointments are among the collectable curios of the library, and prominent among these is the inkstand. Inkstands find their prototypes in the inkhorns of the scribe; and throughout the generations which have provided curios for twentieth-century collectors there have been fresh supplies in silver, pewter, Sheffield plate, copper, bronze, iron, wood, china, and brass. Very beautiful indeed are some of the old inkstands in their separate vase-like attachments. The ink-well was formerly accompanied by a sand box or a pounce caster, in modern days superseded by a second ink-well. The sand casters for sprinkling pounce or sand upon newly written pages were a necessity before the days of blotting paper. Perhaps some day blotters, blotting pads, and the like, may become collectable curios!