"A great case or frame of boxes, wherein some hundreds of very rare evidences of divers Irelandish territories, provinces, and lands, were laid up. Which territories, provinces, and lands were therein notified to have been in the hands of some of the ancient Irish princes. Then, their submissions and tributes agreed upon, with seals appendant to the little writings thereof in parchment: and after by some of those evidences did it appear how some of those lands came to the Lascies, the Mortuomars, the Burghs, the Clares," &c.
"A box of Evidences antient of some Welch princes and noblemen—the like of Norman donation—their peculiar titles noted on the forepart with chalk only, which on the poor boxes remaineth." This box, with another, containing similar deeds, were embezzled.
"One great bladder with about 4 pound weight, of a very sweetish thing, like a brownish gum in it, artificially prepared by thirty times purifying of it, hath more than I could well afford him for 100 crownes; as may be proved by witnesses yet living."
To these he adds his three Laboratories, "serving for Pyrotechnia"—which he got together after 20 years' labour. "All which furniture and provision, and many things already prepared, is unduly made away from me by sundry meanes, and a few spoiled or broken vessels remain, hardly worth 40 shillings." But one more feature in poor Dee's character—and that is his unparalleled serenity and good nature under the most griping misfortunes—remains to be described: and then we may take farewell of him, with aching hearts. In the 10th chapter, speaking of the wretched poverty of himself and family—("having not one penny of certain fee, revenue, stipend, or pension, either left him or restored unto him,")—Dee says that "he has been constrained now and then to send parcels of his little furniture of plate to pawn upon usury; and that he did so oft, till no more could be sent. After the same manner went his wives' jewels of gold, rings, bracelets, chains, and other their rarities, under the thraldom of the usurer's gripes: 'till non plus was written upon the boxes at home." In the 11th chapter, he anticipates the dreadful lot of being brought "to the stepping out of doors (his house being sold). He, and his, with bottles and wallets furnished, to become wanderers as homish vagabonds; or, as banished men, to forsake the kingdom!" Again: "with bloody tears of heart, he, and his wife, their seven children, and their servant (seventeen of them in all), did that day make their petition unto their honours," &c. Can human misery be sharper than this—and to be the lot of a philosopher and bibliomaniac?! But "veniet felicius ævum."
Of a wholly different cast of character and of reading was the renowned Captain Cox of Coventry. How many of Dee's magical books he had exchanged for the pleasanter magic of Old Ballads and Romances, I will not take upon me to say; but that this said bibliomaniacal Captain had a library, which, even from Master Laneham's imperfect description of it,[333] I should have preferred to the four thousand volumes of Dr. John Dee, is most nuquestionable.
[333] Let us be introduced to the sprightly figure and expression of character of this renowned Coventry captain, before we speak particularly of his library. "Captain Cox (says the above-mentioned Master Laneham) came marching on valiantly before, clean trust and gartered above the knee, all fresh in a velvet cap (Master Golding a lent it him), flourishing with his ton sword; and another fence master with him:" p. 39. A little before, he is thus described as connected with his library: "And first, Captain Cox; an odd man, I promise you: by profession a mason, and that right skilful: very cunning in fens (fencing); and hardy as Gawin; for his ton sword hangs at his table's end. Great oversight hath he in matters of story: for as for King Arthur's Book, Huon of Bourdeaux, the Four Sons of Aymon, Bevys of Hampton, The Squyre of Low Degree, The Knight of Curtsy, and the Lady Fagnel, Frederick of Gene, Syr Eglamour, Syr Tryamour, Syr Lamurell, Syr Isenbras, Syr Gawyn, Olyver of the Castl, Lucres and Eurialus, Virgil's Life, the Castl of Ladies, the Widow Edyth, the King and the Tanner, Frier Rous, Howleglas, Gargantua, Robin Hood, Adam Bel, Clim on the Clough, and William of Cloudsley, the Churl and the Burd, the Seaven Wise Masters, the Wife lapt in a Morel's skin, the Sakful of Nuez, the Sergeaunt that became a Fryar, Skogan, Collyn Cloout, the Fryar and the Boy, Elynor Rumming, and the Nutbrooun Maid, with many more than I rehearse here. I believe he has them all at his finger's ends," p. 36. The preceding is a list of the worthy Captain's Romances; some of which, at least in their original shape, were unknown to Ritson: what would be the amount of their present produce under the hammer of those renowned black-letter-book auctioneers in King-street, Covent Garden—? Speak we, in the next place, of the said military bibliomaniac's collection of books in "philosophy moral and natural." "Beside Poetry and Astronomy, and other hid sciences, as I may guess by the omberty of his books: whereof part are, as I remember, The Shepherd's Kalendar, the Ship of Fools, Daniel's Dreams, the Book of Fortune, Stans, puer ad mensam, the bye way to the Spitl-house, Julian of Brainford's Testament, the Castle of Love, the Booget of Demaunds, the Hundred Mery Talez, the Book of Riddels, the Seaven Sorows of Wemen, the Proud Wives' Pater-Noster, the Chapman of a Penniworth of Wit: Beside his auncient plays; Youth and Charitee, Hikskorner, Nugize, Impacient Poverty, and herewith Doctor Boord's Breviary of Health. What should I rehearse here, what a bunch of ballads and songs, all ancient?!—Here they come, gentle reader; lift up thine eyen and marvel while thou dost peruse the same: Broom Broom on Hill, So wo iz me begon, trolly lo Over a Whinny Meg, Hey ding a ding, Bony lass upon a green, My bony on gave me a bek, By a bank az I lay; and two more he hath fair wrapt up in parchment, and bound with a whipcord!" It is no wonder that Ritson, in the historical essay prefixed to his collection of Scottish Songs, should speak of some of these ballads with a zest as if he would have sacrificed half his library to untie the said "whipcord" packet. And equally joyous, I ween, would my friend Mr. R.H. Evans, of Pall-Mall, have been—during his editorial labours in publishing a new edition of his father's collection of Ballads—(an edition, by the bye, which gives us more of the genuine spirit of the Coxean collection than any with which I am acquainted)—equally joyous would Mr. Evans have been to have had the inspection of some of these 'bonny' songs. The late Duke of Roxburgh, of never-dying bibliomaniacal celebrity, would have parted with half the insignia of his order of the Garter to have obtained clean original copies of these fascinating effusions! But let us return, and take farewell of Captain Cox, by noticing only the remaining department of his library, as described by Laneham. "As for Almanacs of antiquity (a point for Ephemerides) I ween he can shew from Jasper Laet of Antwerp, unto Nostradam of Frauns, and thence unto our John Securiz of Salisbury. To stay ye no longer herein (concludes Laneham) I dare say he hath as fair a library of these sciences, and as many goodly monuments both in prose and poetry, and at afternoon can talk as much without book, as any innholder betwixt Brentford and Bagshot, what degree soever he be." A Letter wherein part of the Entertainment untoo the Queenz Majesty at Killingwoorth Castl in Warwick-Sheer, in this Soomerz Progrest, 1575, is signefied: Warwick, 1784, 8vo. O rare Captain Cox!
We now approach two characters of a more dignified cast; and who, in every respect, must be denominated the greatest bibliomaniacs of the age: I mean Sir Robert Cotton and Sir Thomas Bodley. We will touch upon them separately.
The numerous relics which are yet preserved of the Cottonian Collection, may serve to convey a pretty strong idea of its splendour and perfection in its original shape. Cotton had all the sagacity and judgment of Lord Coke, with a more beautifully polished mind, and a more benevolent heart. As to books, and book men, he was the Mecænas[334] of his day. His thirst for knowledge could never be satiated; and the cultivation of the mind upon the foundation of a good heart, he considered to be the highest distinction, and the most permanent delight, of human beings. Wealth, pomp, parade, and titles, were dissipated, in the pure atmosphere of his mind before the invigorating sun of science and learning. He knew that the tomb which recorded the worth of the deceased had more honest tears shed upon it than the pompous mausoleum which spoke only of his pedigree and possessions. Accordingly, although he had excellent blood flowing in his veins, Cotton sought connection with the good rather than with the great; and where he found a cultivated understanding, and an honest heart, there he carried with him his Lares, and made another's abode his own.
[334] There are few eminent characters of whom so many, and such ably-executed, memoirs are extant as of Sir Robert Cotton, Knt. In the present place we have nothing to do with his academical studies, his philosophical, or legislative, or diplomatic, labours: literature and Book Madness are our only subjects of discussion. Yet those who may wish for more general, and possibly more interesting, details, may examine the authorities referred to by Mr. Planta in his very excellent Catalogue of the MSS. in the Cottonian Library, 1802, folio. Sir Robert Cotton was educated at Trinity-College, Cambridge. The number of curious volumes, whether in the roman, gothic, or italic type, which he in all probability collected during his residence at the university, has not yet been ascertained; but we know that, when he made his antiquarian tour with the famous Camden, ("par nobile fratrum!") in his 29th year, Cotton must have greatly augmented his literary treasures, and returned to the metropolis with a sharpened appetite, to devour every thing in the shape of a book. Respected by three sovereigns, Elizabeth, James, and Charles, and admired by all the literati in Europe, Sir Robert saw himself in as eminent a situation as wealth, talents, taste, and integrity can place an individual. His collection of books increased rapidly; but MS. records, deeds, and charters, were the chief objects of his pursuit. His mansion was noble, his library extensive, and his own manners such as conciliated the esteem of almost every one who approached him. Dr. Smith has well described our illustrious bibliomaniac, at this golden period of his life: "Ad Cottoni ædes, tanquam ad communem reconditioris doctrinæ apothecam, sive ad novam Academiam, quotquot animo paulo erectiori musis et gratiis litaverint, sese recepere, nullam a viro humanissimo repulsam passuri: quippe idem literas bonas promovendi studium erat omni auctoramento longe potentius. Nec ista obvia morum facilitas, qua omnes bonos eruditionisque candidatos complexus est, quicquam reverentiæ qua vicissim ille colebatur, detraxerat: potius, omnium, quos familiari sermone, repititisque colloquiis dignari placuit, in se amores et admirationem hac insigni naturæ benignitate excitavit." Vit. Rob. Cottoni, p. xxiv., prefixed to the Catalogus Librorum Manuscriptorum Bibl. Cott., 1696, folio. Sir Robert was, however, doomed to have the evening of his life clouded by one of those crooked and disastrous events, of which it is now impossible to trace the correct cause, or affix the degree of ignominy attached to it, on the head of its proper author. Human nature has few blacker instances of turpitude on record than that to which our knight fell a victim. In the year 1615, some wretch communicated to the Spanish ambassador "the valuable state papers in his library, who caused them to be copied and translated into the Spanish:" these papers were of too much importance to be made public; and James the 1st had the meanness to issue a commission "which excluded Sir Robert from his own library." The storm quickly blew over, and the sunshine of Cotton's integrity diffused around its wonted brilliancy. But in the year 1629, another mischievous wretch propagated a report that Sir Robert had been privy to a treasonable publication: because, forsooth, the original tract, from which this treasonable one had been taken, was, in the year 1613, without the knowledge of the owner of the library, introduced into the Cottonian collection. This wretch, under the abused title of librarian, had, "for pecuniary considerations," the baseness to suffer one or more copies of the pamphlet of 1613 (writtten at Florence by Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, under a less offensive title) to be taken, and in consequence printed. Sir Robert was therefore again singled out for royal vengeance: his library was put under sequestration; and the owner forbidden to enter it. It was in vain that his complete innocence was vindicated. To deprive such a man as Cotton of the ocular and manual comforts of his library—to suppose that he could be happy in the most splendid drawing room in Europe, without his books—is to suppose what our experience of virtuous bibliomaniacs will not permit us to accede to. In consequence, Sir Robert declared to his friends, "that they had broken his heart who had locked up his library from him:" which declaration he solemnly repeated to the Privy Council. In the year 1631, this great and good man closed his eyes for ever upon mortal scenes; upon those whom he gladdened by his benevolence, and improved by his wisdom. Such was the man, of whom Gale has thus eloquently spoken:—"quisquis bona fide Historiam nostram per omne ævum explicare sataget, nullum laudatum Scriptorem à se desiderari exoptarique posse, quem Cottonianus ille incomparabilis thesaurus promptissime non exhibebit: Ea est, et semper fuit, nobilis Domus ergo literatos indulgentia—Hujus fores (ut illæ Musaram, apud Pindarum) omnibus patent. Testes apello Theologos, Antiquarios, Jurisconsultos, Bibliopolas; qui quidem omnes, ex Cottoniana Bibliotheca, tanquam ex perenni, sed et communi fonte, sine impensis et molestiâ, abundè hauserunt." Rer. Anglic. Script. Vet., vol. i., præf., p. 3. The loss of such a character—the deprivation of such a patron—made the whole society of book-collectors tremble and turn pale. Men began to look sharply into their libraries, and to cast a distrustful eye upon those who came to consult and to copy: for the spirit of Cotton, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, was seen to walk, before cock-crow, along the galleries and balconies of great collections, and to bid the owners of them "remember and beware"!—But to return. The library of this distinguished bibliomaniac continued under sequestration some time after his death, and was preserved entire, with difficulty, during the shock of the civil wars. In the year 1712, it was removed to Essex House, in Essex-street, Strand, where it continued till the year 1730, when it was conveyed back to Westminster, and deposited in Little Dean's Yard. In October, 1731, broke out that dreadful fire, which Hearne (Benedict. Abbat., vol. i., præf. p. xvi.) so pathetically deplores; and in which the nation so generally sympathized—as it destroyed and mutilated many precious volumes of this collection. Out of 958 volumes, 97 were destroyed, and 105 damaged. In the year 1753 the library, to the honour of the age, and as the only atonement which could be made to the injured name of Cotton, as well as to the effectual laying of his perturbed spirit—was purchased by parliament, and transported within the quiet and congenial abode of the British Museum: and here may it rest, unabused, for revolving ages! The collection now contains 26,000 articles. Consult Mr. Planta's neatly written preface to the catalogue of the same; vide p. [39], [267], ante. And thus take we leave of the ever-memorable bibliomaniac, Sir Robert Cotton, Knt.
Equally celebrated for literary zeal, and yet more for bibliomaniacal enthusiasm, was the famous Sir Thomas Bodley; whose account of himself, in Prince's Worthies of Devon, and particularly in one of Hearne's publications,[335] can never be read without transport by an affectionate son of our Oxford Alma Mater. View this illustrious bibliomaniac, with his gentleman-like air, and expressive countenance, superintending, with the zeal of a Custom-house officer, the shipping, or rather barging, of his books for the grand library which is now called by his own name! Think upon his activity in writing to almost every distinguished character of the realm: soliciting, urging, arguing, entreating for their support towards his magnificent establishment; and, moreover, superintending the erection of the building, as well as examining the timbers, with the nicety of a master-carpenter!—Think of this; and when you walk under the grave and appropriately-ornamented roof, which tells you that you are within the precincts of the Bodleian Library, pay obeisance to the portrait of the founder, and hold converse with his gentle spirit that dwells therein!