The Confessions of a Collector

by William Carew Hazlitt

CHAPTER VIII

Messrs Reeves & Turner—My Literary Work for the Firm—My Advantageous Acquisitions Here—Cheap Rates at which Rare Books were Formerly Obtainable—The Large Turn-over of the Business—Wake of Cockermouth—An Unique Wynkyn de Worde—A Supposed Undescribed Shakespear in a House-Sale at Bognor—Tom Arthur—The Wynkyn de Worde, which I secured for Another Shilling—Arthur and Sir Thomas Phillipps of Middle Hill—The Bristol Book Shops—Lodge’s Rosalynd, 1592—Mr Elliot Stock—My Literary Work for Him—One Volume Unexpectedly Productive—Mr Henry Stopes—My Recovery for Him of a Sarum Breviary, which belonged to an Ancestor in Queen Mary’s Days—His Wife’s Family and Sir Walter Scott—A Canterbury Correspondent and His Benefits—Two More Uniques—A Singular Recovery from New York—Casual Strokes of Good Luck in the Provinces—The Wynkyn de Worde at Wrexham—A Trouvaille in the Haymarket—Books with Autographs and Inscriptions—A Few Words about Booksellers and Publishers.

My much-respected publisher and acquaintance, Mr Reeves, of the firm of Reeves & Turner, was in business in St Clement’s Churchyard, when I first met with him about 1873. He succeeded Mr Russell Smith as my publisher, and acted as my agent for some books, while others he entrusted to my editorship. The most important in the latter category were the Dodsley and the Montaigne, to the latter of which I contributed only the Introduction, my father revising the text for me, and seeing the proofs, as I was at this juncture extremely busy with all sorts of ventures, and was, above everything else, intent on a new bibliographical departure. Thousands of volumes had been in my hands during the last few years, had answered my questions, and had gone on their way, leaving me wiser and not poorer. The toll, which they paid me, had placed me in a position to pursue a vast Quixotic undertaking; and I had no other means of executing it.

Messrs Reeves & Turner’s premises were a favourite haunt of bargain-hunters in days gone by. Mr Reeves frequently attended outside and country sales, and bought many private lots; and every morning certain members of the trade made the place their first destination. I am not going to allege that I never participated in the advantages myself; but my gains were occasional and accidental; although I was long an habitual caller at the shop, the necessity for consulting Mr Reeves about some current literary affair making such visits imperative.

I have noticed the somewhat strange absence of perception and training which led Reeves to sacrifice an incalculable amount of valuable property, constantly passing through his hands in former years, and often going to others, who knew better how to turn it to account, where I describe the unique collection of Occasional Forms of Prayer of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and the statement of the sagacious cataloguer that the volume containing them was so many inches thick. But it was ever so. There was no discrimination. At one time I bought an important first edition of Heywood, 1605, for half-a-guinea, and a theological tract worth a couple of shillings was marked at the same price. They had only just come in, and not to draw undue attention to the Heywood, I tendered a guinea for the two. On another occasion, a lovely little copy of Donatus De Octo Partibus Orationis, an unknown ancient impression, four leaves, octavo, fell to me here at 4s. But I should make too long a story, if I were to set down all the trouvailles, which I owed to my excellent friend’s omission to employ a capable assistant, or to look into these details himself, I might grow monotonous, unless the circumstances happened to be salient or peculiar.

Reeves, when he was in business in St Clement’s Churchyard, must have for some years done an enormous volume of trade, for he shewed me one day in the early eighties his bank-book, where it appeared that in a year he had paid in £21,000, exclusively of small amounts, which were used as cash. Yet sadly too little came of all this exhausting labour. He parted at too trivial a profit; he was too eager to turn over; and his assistants have told me that he often sold out of the open window for sixpence, items which had cost a couple of shillings. The auction-room in Chancery Lane did not, it is to be feared, contribute to his welfare. No man, however, was more honourable or trustworthy. He once remitted £50 to a person, of whom he had purchased a lot of books, on finding them more profitable than he had expected. Someone spoke of him to me as ‘a nobleman who dealt in books’—an improvement on Johnson’s definition of Tom Davies.

Wake of Cockermouth, a member of the Society of Friends, who deals in every conceivable and inconceivable object of curiosity, but is a highly deserving and industrious man, sent me on one occasion at £4, 10s. a tract of six leaves from the press of Wynkyn de Worde—the Stans puer ad Mensam of Sulpitius. It was an edition of 1515, earlier than any on record, and the British Museum paid me £12, 12s. for it. The curious part was that some months later Reeves had a very bad copy of the Grammar of the same author from the same press—a thick volume in quarto, marked £6, 6s., and I took a note of it, and left it. Wake, shrewdly calculating that as I had given £4, 10s. for the little tract of six leaves, I could not hesitate to take this one of at least sixty at £10, 10s., bought the lot on speculation, and reported it to me. I returned him my thanks. His deduction was arithmetically, but not bibliographically, accurate.

I had put into my hands at Reeves’s one day the catalogue of a house-sale at Bognor, There was a single lot in it: ‘Shakespeare’s Poems, 8º, 1609.’ No such book was known; yet it was perfectly possible that it might have been printed. Reeves thought that it might be worth my while to go down, and inspect it. I did, and had a day at the seaside. The volume was a Lintot! The auctioneer apologised; but he did not offer to defray my travelling expenses.

There are many among us, who remember Arthur in Holywell Street. He was a singular character, and had been a porter, I think, at one of the auction-rooms. My purchases of him were very numerous; and they were always right and reasonable, or I should not have been his client. He left £400 to Mr Ridler his assistant, who, called in Reeves to appraise the stock, and obtained it within that amount. While Arthur was in business, there was a grammatical tract in English printed by De Worde in his catalogue at £3, 3s. I went in to ask for it, and Ridler said that I could not have it. ‘Is it out of the house?’ I enquired. ‘No,’ said he; ‘but it is put aside for a gentleman, who always gives me something for myself.’ ‘What does he give you?’ said I. ‘A shilling,’ quoth he. ‘I will give you two.’ The lot left the shop in my pocket.