Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester: A Biography

by Kenneth Hotham Vickers

Probably the lack of books was the greatest want, for beyond a very few volumes in the chests of the Library named after Bishop Cobham, and some others possessed by masters more wealthy than their fellows, there were no books at all in the University. The students had no access to books, all the teaching had to be done orally, and hence the knowledge acquired was of that purely hereditary type which could not be enlivened by the infusion of new ideas. To a lover and student of books such as Duke Humphrey this defect in the equipment of both teachers and taught must have come home very strongly, and his reply to the appeal, which was made in April 1438, was not tardy. Already his name, together with those of his father and brothers, was written on that tablet in the Oxford Library which recorded the benefactors of that institution,[1335] and in 1435 he had presented both money and books to the University, for which he had received the warmest thanks, and a promise of renewed diligence in study, as recognition that it was his wisdom that had brought about a revival of learning in Oxford.[1336] In answer to the direct appeal he had received in 1438, he forwarded what must have been an important part of his library, in the shape of one hundred and twenty-nine volumes[1337], ‘a more splendid donation than any prince or king had given since the foundation of the University,’ valued as it was at more than £1000.[1338] The letter of thanks spoke in naturally high terms of the Duke’s wisdom and learning, and compared him to Julius Cæsar, who founded a library in Rome, for he, like Gloucester, combined the attributes of a great soldier with those of an enthusiastic scholar.[1339] Not content with their own thanks, these grateful scholars wrote to Parliament, urging its members to thank the Duke, since both they and their relatives had been, or in the future would be, beholden to the University for their education[1340]—a request which, it is hardly a surprise to find, went unheeded. On November 5, 1439, an indenture in receipt of the books was drawn up, and thereon were inscribed the first word or words occurring on the second folio of each volume, so that identification in case of loss might be possible.[1341] This last precaution, which was customary in most libraries of that period, is still of immense value in verifying the authenticity of manuscripts said to have formed part of the donations of Duke Humphrey to Oxford. Two more gifts followed in 1441, the first consisting of seven, the second of nine books, of which we have only the names of the latter preserved.[1342] It is noticeable that on both these occasions the books were conveyed to Oxford by Sir John Kirkby, a soldier who had served under Humphrey in the campaign of 1417. Finally, in 1444, came a gift of one hundred and thirty-four volumes, which were indented for in the usual manner.[1343]

Gifts of books in such numbers were unique in the history of the University, and continued to be so for some time to come. Other donors there were, amongst whom may be numbered Bedford, Wheathampsted, the Duchess of Suffolk, Thomas Knolles, and John Somersett.[1344] These, however, were all either small collections or single books, and even a gift by Henry VI. to the foundation of All Souls only numbered twenty-three volumes.[1345] Throughout, Duke Humphrey had led the way in the patronage of the University. He had befriended it at a time when it sadly needed support, and he now endowed it with a library, which in numbers compared very favourably with any similar collection in England. It was a deed of open-handed generosity, which well deserved all the thanks it provoked, for in all he must have given quite three hundred volumes to the University[1346]—by no means an insignificant collection of books when all had to be copied by hand. They were drawn undoubtedly from his own private library, as there had been no time between the request and the donations to collect for the purpose, and the gift becomes thereby all the more interesting to us, and all the more honourable to the donor. Humphrey cared not for books merely for the sake of collecting them; he valued their teaching, and did his utmost to give them every opportunity of spreading their gospel abroad among the students of the land.

Special arrangements were made by the University for the preservation of these additions to their Library. Already since 1412 there had been a Librarian, who cared for the books collected in the room over the porch of St. Mary’s Church. He was in receipt of a salary of one hundred shillings per annum, besides six shillings and eightpence for every university Mass that he said, and the right to receive robes from every beneficed graduate at the time of his graduation. Only graduates and members of the religious orders who had studied philosophy for eight years were given access to the Library, though certain exceptions, as in the case of sons of members of Parliament, might be made. Oaths must be taken by all readers not to mutilate the books by erasures or blots, an ordinance, let us hope, which was observed more carefully at that time than it is now in modern libraries. The Library was open from nine to eleven and from one to four o’clock, except on Sundays and certain specified days, including the Librarian’s holiday of one month in the long vacation.[1347]

Fresh provisions were drawn up in 1439 in view of the recent additions. All books were to be entered on a list kept in the Library, and their titles were to be clearly marked on the first page with a list of the contents; none were to be alienated or removed from the Library, save for the purpose of rebinding, though the Duke might borrow any volume after having submitted a written request to that effect. The books were to be kept in chests for the use of lecturers and masters, and in the absence of lectures students might have access to them. In case of loss the loser was to pay to the University the sum marked on the book, which was to be in excess of its real value.[1348]

The possession of a useful library did much to restore the old position of the University. From having almost no books—so wrote the authorities to Gloucester—they now had plenty, so that both the Greek and Latin tongue was there studied—that is, both the Greek and Latin authors, for no Greek books were included in the gift. Men from all lands came to study in Oxford now, as they had done before, and the letter concludes with a phrase couched in more intimate terms than had been hitherto customary; ‘we wish you could see the students bending over your books in their greediness and thirst for knowledge.’[1349] So great were the crowds that used these volumes, that the accommodation afforded by the old library was insufficient, and so the University wrote to Gloucester, suggesting that the new Divinity school, then in course of construction, should be used for the purpose. It was in every way suitable for a library, being retired and quiet, and the idea that this new home for his books should be called by his name was submitted to the donor thereof for his approbation.[1350] Herein we may see a polite hint that money as well as books would be acceptable. We have no evidence that the Duke responded to this appeal at the moment and he died before the building was completed by the munificence of Thomas Kempe, Bishop of London, who gave one thousand marks for the purpose. With a conveniently short memory the University alluded to the finished Library as tuam novam librariam when writing to Kempe in 1487.[1351]

LAST RELATIONS WITH OXFORD

This last request of Oxford, though only suggested, did not go unanswered, for Humphrey appeared in the House of Congregation, and publicly promised to give the rest of his Latin books to the University together with £100 towards the new Divinity school, a promise which he renewed just before his death. But this promise was never fulfilled, and in spite of numerous letters to the King, the executors of the Duke’s will and many other influential persons, neither the books nor the money ever found their way to Oxford.[1352] Even as the library bequeathed by Petrarch to Venice in the preceding century never reached its destination, so did Oxford never benefit by the last promise of her friend and patron.

It was with genuine regret that Oxford learned the death of the Duke of Gloucester, and an invocation, inspired by sorrow and fear for the future, appears in their letter-book.[1353] His obsequies were performed with great pomp,[1354] and an ordinance was issued enjoining all graduates to pray for him at the beginning of all sermons preached before the University, at St. Paul’s Cross, and at St. Mary’s Hospital, Bishopsgate.[1355] Every year Mass was said on the anniversary of his death for the repose of his soul, and later of that of his wife Eleanor.[1356]

The old Divinity Schools and Duke Humphrey’s Library at Oxford.