Chapter CXV: , Of the precentor and his assistant. After describing his (1)

various duties, the writer proceeds:

With regard to the production and safe-keeping of
charters and books, the abbat is to consider to whom he
shall entrust this duty.

The officer so appointed may go as far as the doors of
the writing-rooms when he wants to hand in or to take
out a book, but he may not go inside. In the same way
for books in common use, as for instance antiphoners,
hymnals, graduals, lectionaries [etc.], and those which
are read in the Prater and at Collation, he may go as
far as the door of the novices, and of the sick, and of
the writers, and then ask for what he wants by a sign,
but he may not go further unless he have been commanded
by the abbat. When Collation is over it is his duty to
close the press, and during the period of labour, of
sleep, and of meals, and while vespers are being sung,
to keep it locked[139].

The Customs of the Augustinian Order are exceedingly full on the subject of books. I will translate part of the 14th chapter of the Customs in use at Barnwell[140], near Cambridge. It is headed: _Of the safe keeping of the books, and of the office of Librarian (armarius)._ As the passage occurs also in the Customs as observed in France and in Belgium, it may be taken, I presume, to represent the general practice of the Order.

The Librarian, who is called also Precentor, is to take
charge of the books of the church; all which he ought to
keep and to know under their separate titles; and he
should frequently examine them carefully to prevent any
damage or injury from insects or decay. He ought also,
at the beginning of Lent, in each year, to shew them to
the convent in Chapter, when the souls of those who have
given them to the church, or of the brethren who have
written them, and laboured over them, ought to be
absolved, and a service in convent be held over them. He
ought also to hand to the brethren the books which they
see occasion to use, and to enter on his roll the titles
of the books, and the names of those who receive them.
These, when required, are bound to give surety for the
volumes they receive; nor may they lend them to others,
whether known or unknown, without having first obtained
permission from the Librarian. Nor ought the Librarian
himself to lend books unless he receive a pledge of
equal value; and then he ought to enter on his roll the
name of the borrower, the title of the book lent, and
the pledge taken. The larger and more valuable books he
ought not to lend to anyone, known or unknown, without
permission of the Prelate....

Books which are to be kept at hand for daily use,
whether for singing or reading, ought to be in some
common place, to which all the brethren can have easy
access for inspection, and selection of anything which
seems to them suitable. The books, therefore, ought not
to be carried away into chambers, or into corners
outside the Cloister or the Church. The Librarian ought
frequently to dust the books carefully, to repair them,
and to point them, lest brethren should find any error
or hindrance in the daily service of the church, whether
in singing or in reading. No other brother ought to
erase or change anything in the books unless he have
obtained the consent of the Librarian....

The press in which the books are kept ought to be lined
inside with wood, that the damp of the walls may not
moisten or stain the books. This press should be divided
vertically as well as horizontally by sundry shelves on
which the books may be ranged so as to be separated from
one another; for fear they be packed so close as to
injure each other or delay those who want them[141].

Further, as the books ought to be mended, pointed, and
taken care of by the Librarian, so ought they to be
properly bound by him.

The Order of Premontre--better known as the Premonstratensians, or reformed Augustinians--repeat the essential part of these directions in their statute, _Of the Librarian (armarius)_, with this addition, that it is to be part of the librarian's duty to provide for the borrowing of books for the use of the House, as well as for lending[142].

Lastly, the Friars, though property was forbidden, and S. Francis would not allow his disciples to own so much as a psalter or a breviary[143], soon found that books were a necessity, and the severity of early discipline was relaxed in favour of a library. S. Francis died in 1226, and only thirty-four years afterwards, among the constitutions adopted by a General Chapter of the Order held at Narbonne 10 June, 1260, are several provisions relating to books. They are of no great importance, taken by themselves, but their appearance at so early a date proves that books had become indispensable. It is enacted that no brother may write books, or have them written, for sale; nor may the chief officer of a province venture to keep books without leave obtained from the chief officer of the whole Order; no brother may keep the books assigned to him, unless they are altogether the property of the Order--and so forth[144]. A century later, when Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, was writing his _Philobiblon_ (completed 24 January, 1344-45), he could say of them and the other friars--whom, be it remembered, he, as a regular, would regard with scant favour--

But whenever it happened that we turned aside to the
cities and places where the Mendicants had their
convents we did not disdain to visit their libraries and
any other repositories of books; nay there we found
heaped up amidst the utmost poverty the utmost riches of
wisdom. We discovered in their fardels and baskets not
only crumbs falling from the master's table for the
dogs, but the shewbread without leaven and the bread of
angels having in it all that is delicious; and indeed
the garners of Joseph full of corn, and all the spoil of
the Egyptians and the very precious gifts which Queen
Sheba brought to Solomon.

These men are as ants ever preparing their meat in the
summer, and ingenious bees continually fabricating cells
of honey.... And to pay due regard to truth ... although
they lately at the eleventh hour have entered the Lord's
vineyard ..., they have added more in this brief hour to
the stock of the sacred books than all the other
vinedressers; following in the footsteps of Paul, the
last to be called but the first in preaching, who spread
the gospel of Christ more widely than all others[145].

At Assisi, the parent house of the Franciscan Order, there was a library of considerable extent, many volumes of which still exist, with a catalogue drawn up in 1381.

At this point I will resume the conclusions which may be deduced from this examination of the Benedictine Rule and the Customs founded upon it.

In the first place they all assume the existence of a library. S. Benedict contents himself with general directions about study. The Cluniacs put the books in charge of the precentor, who is to be called also _armarius_, and they prescribe an annual audit of them, with the assignment of a single volume to each brother, on the security of a written attestation of the fact. These regulations were adopted by the Benedictines, with fuller rules for the librarian, who is still precentor also. He is to keep both presses and books in repair, and personally to supervise the daily use of the manuscripts, restoring to their proper places those that brethren may have been reading. Among these rules permission to lend books on receipt of a pledge first makes its appearance. The Carthusians maintain the principle of lending. Each brother might have two books, and he is to be specially careful to keep them clean. The Cistercians appoint a special officer to have charge of the books, about the safety of which great care is to be taken, and at certain times of the day he is to lock the press. The Augustinians and the Premonstratensians follow the Cluniacs and Benedictines: but the Premonstratensians direct their librarian to take note of the books that the House borrows as well as of those that it lends; and they adopt the Cistercian precaution about his opening and locking the press.

Secondly, by the time that Lanfranc was writing his statutes for English Benedictines, it was evidently contemplated that the number of books would have exceeded the number of brethren, for the keeper of the books is directed to bring all the books of the House into Chapter, and after that the brethren, one by one, are to bring in the books which they have borrowed[146]. Among the books belonging to the House there were probably some service-books; but, from the language used, it appears to me that we may fairly conclude that by the end of the eleventh century Benedictine Houses had two sets of books: (1) those which were distributed among the brethren; (2) those which were kept in some safe place, as part of the possessions of the House: or, to adopt modern phrases, that they had a lending library and a library of reference.

Thirdly, it is evident that the loan of books to persons in general, on adequate security, began at a very early date. On this account I have already ventured to call monastic libraries the public libraries of the Middle Ages. As time went on, the practice was developed, and at last became general. It was even enjoined upon monks as a duty by their ecclesiastical superiors. In 1212 a Council which met at Paris made the following decree, but I am not able to say whether it was accepted out of France:

We forbid those who belong to a religious Order, to
formulate any vow against lending their books to those
who are in need of them; seeing that to lend is
enumerated among the principal works of mercy.

After careful consideration, let some books be kept in
the House for the use of brethren; others, according to
the decision of the abbat, be lent to those who are in
need of them, the rights of the House being
safe-guarded.

From the present date no book is to be retained under
pain of incurring a curse [for its alienation], and we
declare all such curses to be of no effect[147].

In the same century many volumes were bequeathed to the Augustinian House of S. Victor, Paris, on the express condition that they should be so lent[148]. It is almost needless to add that one abbey was continually lending to another, either for reading or for copying[149].

Houses which lent liberally would probably be the first to relax discipline so far as to admit strangers to their libraries; and in the sixteenth and following centuries the libraries of the Benedictine House of S. Germain des Pres, Paris, as well as the already mentioned House of S. Victor, were open to all comers on certain days in the week.

When we try to realise the feelings with which monastic communities regarded books, it must always be remembered that they had a paternal interest in them. In many cases they had been written in the very House in which they were afterwards read from generation to generation: and if not, they had probably been procured by the exchange of some work so written. In fact, if a book was not a son of the House, it was at least a nephew.

The conviction that books were a possession with which no convent could dispense, appears in many medieval writers. The whole matter is summed up in the phrase, written about 1170, "claustrum sine armario, castrum sine armamentario[150]," an epigram which I will not spoil by trying to translate it; and even more clearly in the passionate utterances of Thomas a Kempis on the desolate condition of priest and convent without books[151]. The "round of creation" is explored for similes to enforce this truth. A priest so situated is like a horse without bridle, a ship without oars, a writer without pens, a bird without wings, etc.; while the House is like a kitchen without stewpans, a table without food, a well without water, a river without fish--and many other things which I have no space to mention.

Evidence of the solicitude with which they protected their treasures is not wanting. The very mode of holding a manuscript was prescribed, if not by law, at least by general custom. "When the religious are engaged in reading in cloister or in church," says an Order of the General Benedictine Chapter, "they shall if possible hold the books in their left hands, wrapped in the sleeve of their tunics, and resting on their knees; their right hands shall be uncovered with which to hold and turn the leaves of the aforesaid books[152]." In a manuscript at Monte Cassino[153] is the practical injunction

Quisquis quem tetigerit
Sit illi lota manus;

and at the same House the possession of handkerchiefs--which were evidently regarded as effeminate inventions--is specially excused on the ground that they would be useful--among other things--"for wrapping round the manuscripts which brethren handle[154]." Of similar import is the distich at the end of a fine manuscript formerly in the library of S. Victor:

Qui servare libris preciosis nescit honorem
Illius a manibus sit procul iste liber[155].

With these injunctions may be compared a note in a fourteenth century manuscript from the same library:

Whoever pursues his studies in this book, should be
careful to handle the leaves gently and delicately, so
as to avoid tearing them by reason of their thinness;
and let him imitate the example of Jesus Christ, who,
when he had quietly opened the book of Isaiah and read
therein attentively, rolled it up with reverence, and
gave it again to the minister[156];

and the advice of Thomas a Kempis to the youthful students for whose benefit he composed the treatise called _Doctrinale Juvenum_ which I have already quoted:

Take thou a book into thine hands as Simeon the Just
took the Child Jesus into his arms to carry him and kiss
him. And when thou hast finished reading, close the book
and give thanks for every word out of the mouth of God;
because in the Lord's field thou hast found a hidden
treasure[157].

In a similar strain a writer or copyist entreats readers to be careful of his work--work which has cost him an amount of pains that they cannot realise. It is impossible to translate the original exactly, but I hope that I have given the meaning with tolerable clearness:

I beseech you, my friend, when you are reading my book
to keep your hands behind its back, for fear you should
do mischief to the text by some sudden movement; for a
man who knows nothing about writing thinks that it is no
concern of his. Whereas to a writer the last line is as
sweet as port is to a sailor. Three fingers hold the
pen, but the whole body toils. Thanks be to God. I
Warembert wrote this book in God's name. Thanks be to
God. Amen[158].

Entreaties so gentle and so pathetic as these are seldom met with; but curses--in the same strain probably as those to which the Council of Paris took exception--are extremely common. In fact, in some Houses, a manuscript invariably ended with an imprecation--more or less severe, according to the writer's taste[159]. I will append a few specimens.

This book belongs to S. Maximin at his monastery of
Micy, which abbat Peter caused to be written, and with
his own labour corrected and punctuated, and on Holy
Thursday dedicated to God and S. Maximin on the altar of
S. Stephen, with this imprecation that he who should
take it away from thence by what device soever, with
the intention of not restoring it, should incur
damnation with the traitor Judas, with Annas, Caiaphas,
and Pilate. Amen[160].

Should anyone by craft or any device whatever abstract
this book from this place [Jumieges] may his soul
suffer, in retribution for what he has done, and may his
name be erased from the book of the living and not be
recorded among the Blessed[161].

A simpler form of imprecation occurs very frequently in manuscripts belonging to S. Alban's:

This book belongs to S. Alban. May whosoever steals it
from him or destroys its title be anathema. Amen[162].

A similar form of words occurs at the Cistercian House of Clairvaux, a great school of writing like S. Alban's, but whether it habitually protected its manuscripts in this manner I am unable to say:

May whoever steals or alienates this manuscript, or
scratches out its title, be anathema. Amen[163].

A very curious form of curse occurs in one of the manuscripts of Christ Church, Canterbury. The writer repents of his severity in the last sentence.

May whoever destroys this title, or by gift or sale or
loan or exchange or theft or by any other device
knowingly alienates this book from the aforesaid Christ
Church, incur in this life the malediction of Jesus
Christ and of the most glorious Virgin His Mother, and
of Blessed Thomas, Martyr. Should however it please
Christ, who is patron of Christ Church, may his soul be
saved in the Day of Judgment[164].

Lastly, I will quote a specimen in verse, from a breviary now in the library of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge:

Wher so ever y be come over all
I belonge to the Chapell of gunvylle hall:
He shal be cursed by the grate sentens
That felonsly faryth and berith me thens.
And whether he bere me in pooke or sekke,
For me he shall be hanged by the nekke,
(I am so well beknown of dyverse men)
But I be restored theder agen[165].

On the other hand, the gift of books to a monastery was gratefully recorded and enumerated among the good deeds of their donors. Among the Augustinians such gifts, and the labour expended upon books in general, was the subject of a special service[166].

It is not uncommon to find a monastic library regularly endowed with part of the annual revenue of the House. For instance, at Corbie, the librarian received 10 sous from each of the higher, and 5 sous from each of the inferior officers, together with a certain number of bushels of corn from lands specially set apart for the purpose. This was confirmed by a bull of Pope Alexander III. (1166-1179)[167]. A similar arrangement was made at the library of S. Martin des Champs, Paris, in 1261[168]. At the Benedictine Abbey of Fleury, near Orleans, in 1146, it was agreed in chapter on the proposition of the abbat, that in each year on S. Benedict's winter festival (21 March), he and the priors subordinate to him, together with the officers of the House, should all contribute "to the repair of our books, the preparation of new ones, and the purchase of parchment." The name of each contributor, and the sum that he was to give, are recorded[169]. At the Benedictine Monastery of Ely Bishop Nigel (1133-1174) granted the tithe of certain churches in the diocese "as a perpetual alms to the _scriptorium_ of the church of Ely for the purpose of making and repairing the books of the said church[170]." The books referred to were probably, in the first instance, service-books; but the number required of these could hardly have been sufficient to occupy the whole time of the scribes, and the library would doubtless derive benefit from their labours. The _scriptorium_ at S. Alban's was also specially endowed.

We must next consider the answer to the following questions: In what part of their Houses did the Monastic Orders bestow their books? and what pieces of furniture did they use? The answer to the first of these questions is a very curious one, when we consider what our climate is, and indeed what the climate of the whole of Europe is, during the winter months. The centre of the monastic life was the cloister. Brethren were not allowed to congregate in any other part of the conventual buildings, except when they went into the frater, or dining-hall, for their meals, or at certain hours in certain seasons into the warming-house (_calefactorium_). In the cloister accordingly they kept their books; and there they wrote and studied, or conducted the schooling of the novices and choir-boys, in winter and in summer alike.

It is obvious that their work must have been at the mercy of the elements during many months of the year, and some important proofs that such was the case can be quoted. Cuthbert, Abbat of Wearmouth and Jarrow in the second half of the eighth century, excuses himself to a correspondent for not having sent him all the works of Bede which he had asked for, on the ground that the intense cold of the previous winter had paralysed the hands of his scribes[171]; Ordericus Vitalis, who wrote in the first half of the twelfth century, closes the fourth book of his Ecclesiastical History with a lament that he must lay aside his work for the winter[172]; and a monk of Ramsey Abbey in Huntingdonshire has recorded his discomforts in a Latin couplet which seems to imply that in a place so inconvenient as a cloister all seasons were equally destructive of serious work:

In vento minime pluvia nive sole sedere
Possumus in claustro nec scribere neque studere[173].

As we sit here in tempest in rain snow and sun
Nor writing nor reading in cloister is done.

But, when circumstances were more propitious, plenty of good work that was of permanent value could be done in a cloister. A charming picture has come down to us of the literary activity that prevailed in the Abbey of S. Martin at Tournai at the end of the eleventh century, when Abbat Odo was giving an impulse to the writing of MSS. "When you entered the cloister," says his chronicler, "you could generally see a dozen young monks seated on chairs, and silently writing at desks of careful and artistic design. With their help, he got accurate copies made of all Jerome's commentaries on the Prophets, of the works of Blessed Gregory, and of all the treatises he could find of Augustine, Ambrose, Isidore, and Anselm; so that the like of his library was not to be found in any of the neighbouring churches; and those attached to them used generally to ask for our copies for the correction of their own[174]."

The second question cannot be answered so readily. We must begin by examining, in some detail, the expressions used to denote furniture in the various documents that deal with conventual libraries.

S. Pachomius places his books in a cupboard (_fenestra_); S. Benedict uses only the general term, library (_bibliotheca_), which may mean either a room or a piece of furniture; and the word press (_armarium_), with which we become so familiar afterwards, does not make its appearance till near the end of the eleventh century. Lanfranc does not use it, but as I have shewn that he based his statutes, at least to some extent, on the Cluniac Customs, and as they identify the library (_bibliotheca_) with the press (_armarium_), and call the librarian, termed by Lanfranc the keeper of the books, the keeper of the press (_armarius_), we may safely assume that the books to which Lanfranc refers were housed in a similar piece of furniture. Moreover, in Benedictine houses of later date, as for instance at Abingdon and Evesham, the word is constantly employed.

I pointed out in the first chapter that the word press (_armarium_) was used by the Romans to signify both a detached piece of furniture and a recess in a wall into which such a contrivance might be inserted[175]. The same use obtained in medieval times[176], and the passage quoted above from the Augustinian customs[177] shews that the book-press there contemplated was a recess lined with wood and subdivided so as to keep the books separate.

The books to be accommodated in a monastery, even of large size, could not at its origin have been numerous[178], and would easily have been contained in a single receptacle. This, I conceive, was that recess in the wall which is so frequently found between the Chapter-House and the door into the church at the end of the east pane of the cloister. In many monastic ruins this recess is still open, and, by a slight effort of imagination, can be restored to its pristine use. Elsewhere it is filled in, having been abandoned by the monks themselves in favour of a fresh contrivance. The recess I am speaking of was called the common press (_armarium commune_), or common cloister-press (_commune armarium claustri_); and it contained the books appointed for the general use of the community (_communes libri_).

A press of this description (fig. 19) is still to be seen in excellent preservation at the Cistercian monastery of Fossa Nuova in Central Italy, near Terracina, which I visited in the spring of 1900. This house may be dated 1187-1208[179]. The press is in the west wall of the south transept (fig. 21), close to the door leading to the church. It measures 4 ft. 3 in. wide, by 3 ft. 6 in. high; and is raised 2 ft. 3 in. above the floor of the cloister. It is lined with slabs of stone; but the hinges are not strong enough to have carried doors of any material heavier than wood; and I conjecture that the shelf also was of the same material. Stone is plentiful in that part of Italy, but wood, especially in large pieces, would have to be brought from a distance. Hence its removal, as soon as the cupboard was not required for the purpose for which it was constructed.

Two recesses, evidently intended for the same purpose, are to be seen in the east walk of the cloister of Worcester Cathedral, formerly a Benedictine monastery. They are between the Chapter-House and the passage leading to the treasury and other rooms. Each recess is square-headed, 6 ft. 9 in. high, 2 ft. 6 in. deep, and 11 ft. broad (fig. 20). In front of the recesses is a bench-table, 13 in. broad and 16 in. high. This book-press was in use so late as 1518, when a book bought by the Prior was "delyvered to y^e cloyster awmery[180]."

As books multiplied ampler accommodation for them became necessary; and, as they were to be read in cloister, it was obvious that the new presses or cases must either be placed in the cloister or be easily accessible from it. The time had not yet come when the collection could be divided, and be placed partly in the cloister, partly in a separate and sometimes distant room. This want of book-room was supplied in two ways. In Benedictine and possibly in Cluniac houses the books were stored in detached wooden presses, which I shall describe presently; but the Cistercians adopted a different method. At the beginning of the twelfth century, when that Order was founded, the need of additional book-space had been fully realised; and, consequently, in their houses we meet with a special room set apart for books. But the conservative spirit which governed monastic usage, and discouraged any deviation from the lines of the primitive plan, made them keep the press in the wall close to the door of the church; and, in addition to this, they cut off a piece from the west end of the sacristy, which usually intervened between the south transept and the Chapter-House, and fitted it up for books. This was done at Fossa Nuova. The groundplan (fig. 21) shews the press which I have already figured, and the book-room between the transept and the Chapter-House, adjoining the sacristy. It is 14 ft. long by 10 ft. broad, with a recess in its north wall which perhaps once contained another press.

To shew the book-room and book-press, and their relations to adjoining structures: partly from M. Enlart's work, partly from my own measurements.]

There is a similar book-room at Kirkstall Abbey near Leeds, built about 1150. The plan (fig. 22, A) shews its relation to the adjoining structures. The _armarium commune_ (_ibid._ B) is a little to the north of the room, as at Fossa Nuova. A room in a similar position, and destined no doubt to the same use, is to be seen at Beaulieu, Hayles, Jervaulx, Netley, Tintern, Croxden, and Roche.

A, book-room: B, _armarium commune_.]

The catalogue of the books at the Abbey of Meaux in Holderness[181], founded about the middle of the 12th century, has fortunately been preserved; and it tells us not only what books were kept in one of these rooms, but how they were arranged. After the contents of the presses in the church, which contained chiefly service-books, we come to the "common press in the cloister (_commune almarium claustri_)." On the shelf over the door (_in suprema theca[182] supra ostium_) were four psalters. The framer of the catalogue then passes to the opposite end of the room, and, beginning with the top shelf (_suprema theca opposita_), enumerates 37 volumes. Next, he deals with the rest of the books, which, he tells us, were in other shelves, marked with the letters of the alphabet (_in aliis thecis distinctis per alphabetum_). If I understand the catalogue correctly, there were eleven of these divisions, each containing an average of about 25 volumes. The total number of volumes in the collection was 316.

Again, the catalogue of the House of White Canons at Titchfield in Hampshire, dated 1400, shews that the books were kept in a small room, on sets of shelves called _columpnae_, set against the walls. The catalogue begins as follows:

There are in the Library at Tychefeld four cases to set
books on; two of which, namely the first and the second,
are on the eastern side. The third is on the south side;
and the fourth is on the north side. Each of these has
eight shelves [etc.][183].

Nor was this book-closet confined to Cistercian Houses. In the Cluniac Priory at Much Wenlock in Shropshire there is a long narrow room on the west side of the south transept, opening to the cloister by three arches, which could hardly have been put to any other purpose. It is obvious that no study could have gone forward in such places; they must have been intended for security only.

As time went on, and further room for books became necessary, it was provided, at least in some Cistercian Houses, by cutting off two rectangular spaces from the west end of the Chapter-House. There is a good example of this treatment to be seen at Furness Abbey, built 1150--1200. The following description is borrowed from Mr W. H. St John Hope's architectural history of the buildings.

From the transept southwards the whole of the existing
work is of later date, and distinctly advanced
character. The ground storey is pierced with five large
and elaborate round-headed doorways with good moldings
and labels, with a delicate dog-tooth ornament. Three of
these next the transept form a group....

The central arch opened, through a vestibule, into the
Chapter House. The others open into large square
recesses or chambers, with ashlar walls, and rubble
barrel-vaults springing from chamfered imposts on each
side. In the northern chamber the vault is kept low and
segmental, on account of the passage above it of the
dorter stair to the church.... The southern chamber has
a high pointed vault. Neither chamber has had doors, but
the northern has holes in the inner jamb, suggestive of
a grate of some kind, of uncertain date.

The chambers just described probably contained the
library, in wooden presses arranged round the
walls[184].

To illustrate this description a portion of Mr Hope's plan of Furness Abbey (fig. 23) is appended. Each room was about 13 ft. square.

Rooms in a similar position are to be seen at Calder Abbey[185] in Cumberland, a daughter-house to Furness; and at Fountains Abbey there are clear indications that the western angles of the Chapter-House were partitioned off at some period subsequent to its construction, probably for a similar purpose. As the Chapter-House was entered from the cloister through three large round-headed arches, each of the rooms thus formed could be entered directly from the cloister, the central arch being reserved for the Chapter-House itself. The arrangement therefore became exactly similar to that at Furness. Mr Hope thinks that the series of arches in the church wall at Beaulieu in Hampshire, two of which are here shewn (fig. 24), may have been used for a like purpose[186]. There is a similar series of arches at Hayles, a daughter-house to Beaulieu; and in the south cloister of Chester Cathedral there are six recesses of early Norman design, which, if not sepulchral, may once have contained books.

The use of the Chapter-House and its neighbourhood as the place in which books should be kept is one of the most curious features of the Cistercian life. The east walk of the cloister, into which the Chapter-House usually opened, must have been one of the most frequented parts of the House, and yet it seems to have been deliberately chosen not merely for keeping books, but for reading them. At Clairvaux, so late as 1709, the authors of the _Voyage Litteraire_ record the following arrangement:

Le grand cloitre ... est voute et vitre. Les religieux y
doivent garder un perpetuel silence. Dans le cote du
chapitre il y a des livres enchainez sur des pupitres de
bois, dans lesquels les religieux peuvent venir faire
des lectures lorsqu'ils veulent[187].

A similar arrangement obtained at Citeaux[188].

Having traced the development of the Cistercian book-closet, from a simple recess in the wall to a pair of more or less spacious rooms at the west end of the Chapter-House, I return to my starting-point, and proceed to discuss the arrangement adopted by the Benedictines. They must have experienced the inconvenience arising from want of space more acutely than the Cistercians, being more addicted to study and the production of books. They made no attempt, however, to provide space by structural changes or additions to their Houses, but were content with wooden presses in the cloister for their books, and small wooden studies, called carrells, for the readers and writers.

The uniformity which governed monastic usage was so strict that the practice of almost any large monastery may be taken as a type of what was done elsewhere. Hence, when we find a full record of the way in which books were used in the great Benedictine House at Durham, we may rest assured that, _mutatis mutandis_, we have got a good general idea of the whole subject. I will therefore begin by quoting a passage from that valuable work _The Rites of Durham_, a description of the House drawn up after the Reformation by some one who had known it well in other days, premising only that it represents the final arrangements adopted by the Order, and takes no account of the steps that led to them.

In the north syde of the Cloister, from the corner over
against the Church dour to the corner over againste the
Dorter dour, was all fynely glased from the hight to the
sole within a litle of the grownd into the Cloister
garth. And in every wyndowe iij Pewes or Carrells, where
every one of the old Monks had his carrell, severall by
himselfe, that, when they had dyned, they dyd resorte to
that place of Cloister, and there studyed upon there
books, every one in his carrell, all the after nonne,
unto evensong tyme. This was there exercise every daie.

All there pewes or carrells was all fynely wainscotted
and verie close, all but the forepart, which had carved
wourke that gave light in at ther carrell doures of
wainscott. And in every carrell was a deske to lye there
bookes on. And the carrells was no greater then from one
stanchell of the wyndowe to another.

And over against the carrells against the church wall
did stande certaine great almeries [or cupbords] of
waynscott all full of bookes, wherein did lye as well
the old auncyent written Doctors of the Church as other
prophane authors with dyverse other holie mens wourks,
so that every one dyd studye what Doctor pleased them
best, havinge the Librarie at all tymes to goe studie in
besydes there carrells.[189]

At Durham the monastic buildings stood to the south of the church, and the library-walk of the cloister was that walk, or alley, or pane, or syde (for all these words are used), which had the church to the north of it. The library was placed there partly for the sake of warmth, partly to secure greater privacy. At Canterbury and at Gloucester, where the church was to the south of the conventual buildings, the library-walk of the cloister was still the walk next to the church, the other walks, as Mr Hope has pointed out to me, being apparently kept clear for the Sunday procession.

From Mr Micklethwaite's plan of the buildings.]

I propose to explain the system indicated in the above quotation by reference to a plan of the cloister at Westminster Abbey, drawn by my friend Mr J. T. Micklethwaite (fig. 25)[190], and by quotations from his notes upon it. At Durham every vestige of ancient arrangement has been so completely destroyed that it is better to go to another House, where less mischief has been done, and it happens fortunately that, so far as the position of the cloister with reference to the church is concerned, Westminster is the exact counterpart of Durham. I will consider first the last paragraph of my quotation from the _Rites of Durham_, that namely which deals with the presses for books, there called "almeries or cupbords."

Mr Micklethwaite shews that the two bays at the north end of the west walk of the cloister, and the second bay from the west in the north walk (fig. 25, nos. 1, 2, 4), were appropriated to the novices, by the existence of several sets of nine holes, evidently cut by boys in their idle moods for the playing of some game. Similar holes have been found at Canterbury, Gloucester, and elsewhere. Next he points out that "the nosing of the wall-bench for six feet of the third bay from the west in the north walk, and in the whole of the fourth and fifth bays, and nearly all the sixth, has been cut away flush with the riser, as if some large pieces of furniture had been placed there (_ibid._ nos. 5, 5, 5, 5). These were evidently bookcases." Eastward of these indications of bookcases "the bases of the vaulting-shafts are cut in a way which seems to shew that there was a double screen there (_ibid._ nos. 6, 6), or perhaps there were bookcases arranged so as to form a screen, which is, I think, very likely. Beyond this screen to the right are appearances in the wall [next the cloister-garth] which seem to indicate a blocked-up locker, but they are rather doubtful. And on the left is a large double locker blocked (_ibid._ 7), and the blocking appears to be ancient. This locker is of the date of the wall (Edw. I.), and may have been an additional book-closet provided, because that on the other side of the church-door [to be described presently] had become too small, and [was] blocked up when the larger bookcases were made opposite the carrells[191]."

Lastly, at the risk of some repetition, I will quote a passage from a letter which Mr Micklethwaite was so good as to write to me on this subject, as it brings out some additional points, and states the whole question with great clearness. After describing the position of the bookcases, he proceeds:

There was thus a space, the width of the bench, between
the back of the case and the cloister-wall, which would
help to keep things dry. Whether the floor was boarded
we cannot now tell, but there is evidence that this part
of the cloister was cut off from the rest by screens of
some sort at both ends, which would make it a long
gallery lighted on one side, and with bookcases ranged
along the other, not unlike Wren's at Lincoln. The
windows must have been glazed; indeed remains of the
glazing existed to the end of the 17th century; and
there were within my memory marks of fittings along the
windows-side which I did not then understand, but which,
if they still existed, would I have no doubt tell us
something of the _carrells_. A "thorough restoration"
has taken away every trace of them.

The "bookcase on the other side of the church door" mentioned above was in the northernmost bay of the east cloister. Mr Micklethwaite says of it:

"Entering the cloister from the church by the east cloister door (_ibid._ no. 8), we find on our left hand a very broad bench against the wall, extending as far as the entrance to the Chapter-House (_ibid._ 10). In the most northern bay the wall-arcade, instead of being brought down by shafts as in the others, is stopped off at the springing by original brackets, as if to allow of some large piece of furniture being placed against the wall. Here, I believe, stood in the thirteenth century the _armarium commune_, or common bookcase (_ibid._ 9). At Durham there is a Norman arched recess in the same place, not mentioned by the writer of the _Rites_, because before his time its use had ceased, books having become more numerous, and being provided for elsewhere[192]."

These notes enable us to imagine what this library was like. It was about 80 feet long by 15 feet broad, extending along four bays of the cloister. It was cut off by a screen at one end, and possibly at the other also; the book-presses stood against the wall, opposite to the windows, which were probably glazed, as we know those at Durham were; and there might have been a wooden floor. Further, the older monks sat in "carrells," as we learn from the custumary of Abbat Ware, who was in office 1258-83. The writer is speaking of the novices, and says that after they have attained a certain degree of proficiency they may sit in cloister, and "be allowed to glance at books taken out of the presses (_armaria_) belonging to the older monks. But they must not be permitted as yet to write or to have carrells[193]."

Whatever may have been the discomfort of this library according to our ideas, there is good reason for believing that it was in use till 1591, when Dean Williams fitted up part of the Dorter as a library for the use of the Dean and Canons[194].

The practice of placing the book-press in the cloister obtained with equal force in France, for the Benedictines who wrote the _Voyage Litteraire_, and who would of course be well acquainted with what was usual in their own Order, remark with surprise when they visit the ancient abbey of Cruas on the Rhone, that the press is in the church.

On voit encore dans l'eglise l'armoire ou on enfermoit
les livres, contre la coutume des autres monasteres de
l'ordre, qui avoient cette armoire dans le cloitre. On y
lit ces vers d'un caractere qui peut avoir cinq cent
ans:

Pastor jejunat qui libros non coadunat
Nec panem praebet subjectis quem dare debet[195].

A shepherd starves whose store of books is low:
Nor can he on his flock their due bestow.

No example of an English book-press has survived, so far as I know, but it would be rash to say that none exists; nor have I been so fortunate as to find one in France, though I have taken a great deal of pains to obtain information on the subject. In default of a press made specially to hold books, I must content myself with representations of two well-known pieces of furniture--both preserved in French churches.

The first (fig. 26) stands in the upper sacristy of the Cathedral of Bayeux, over the south transept. The name usually given to it, _le Chartrier de Bayeux_, implies that it was made to hold documents. M. Viollet-le-Duc does not accept this view, but considers that it contained reliquaries, with which he probably would not object to associate other articles of church-plate.

From a photograph.]

From a photograph.]

It is of oak, very coarse, rough, and massive. It is 9 ft. 3 inches high, from floor to top, 17 ft. 2 inches long--(it was originally 3 ft. longer)--and 3 ft. deep. There are two rows of cupboards each 3 ft. 8 inches high, with massive doors that still preserve their original ironwork. The whole piece of furniture has once been painted, indications of which still exist, but the subjects can no longer be made out. M. Viollet-le-Duc[196], who possibly saw the paintings when they were in a better state of preservation than when I examined them in 1896, decides that they once represented the translation of relics.

My second example (fig. 27) is in the church of Obazine in Central France (Departement de la Correze). It is far simpler and ruder than the press in Bayeux Cathedral; and the style of ornamentation employed indicates a somewhat earlier date; though M, Viollet-le-Duc places the construction of both in the first years of the 13th century. It is 6 ft. 7 in. high, by 7 ft. broad, and 2 ft. 7 in. deep. The material is oak, which still bears a few traces of having once been painted[197].

These pieces of furniture were certainly not made specially for books; but, as they belong to a period when the monastic system was in full, vigorous, life, it is at least probable that they resemble those used by monks to contain their books. I have shewn in the previous chapter that in ancient Rome the press used for books was essentially the same as that used for very different purposes; and I submit that it is unnecessary to suppose that monastic carpenters would invent a special piece of furniture to hold books. They would take the _armarium_ that was in daily use, and adapt it to their own purposes.

Before I leave this part of my subject I must mention that there is a third press in the Church of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, Paris. It stands in a small room over the south end of the west porch, which may once have been a muniment room. It was probably made about a century later than those which I have figured. In arrangement it bears a general resemblance to the example from Bayeux. It consists of six cupboards arranged in two tiers, the lower of which is raised to the level of a bench which extends along the whole length of the piece of furniture, with its ends mortised into those of the cupboards. The seat of this bench lifts up, so as to form an additional receptacle for books or papers[198].

The curious wooden contrivances called carrells, which are mentioned in the above quotation from the _Rites of Durham_, have of course entirely disappeared. Nothing is said about their height; but in breadth each of them was equal to the distance from the middle of one mullion of a window to the middle of the next; it was made of wainscot, and had a door of open carved work by which it was entered from the cloister. This arrangement was doubtless part of the systematic supervision of brother by brother that was customary in a monastery. Even the aged, though engaged in study, were not to be left to their own devices. I have carefully measured the windows at Durham (fig. 28); and, though they have been a good deal altered, I suppose the mullions are in their original places. If this be so the carrells could not have been more than 2 ft. 9 in. wide, and the occupant would have found but little room to spare. There are eleven windows, so that thirty-three monks could have been accommodated, on the supposition that all were fitted with carrells.

In the south cloister at Gloucester there is a splendid series of twenty stone carrells (fig. 29), built between 1370 and 1412. Each carrell is 4 ft. wide, 19 in. deep, and 6 ft. 9 in. high, lighted by a small window of two lights; but as figures do not give a very vivid idea of size, and as I could not find any one else to do what I wanted, I borrowed a chair from the church and a folio from the library, and sat down to read, as one of the monks might have done six centuries ago (fig. 30). There is no trace of any woodwork appertaining to these carrells; or of any book-press having ever stood near them. The easternmost carrell, however, differs a good deal from the others, and it may have been used as a book-closet. There is a bench-table along the wall of the church opposite to the carrells; but it does not appear to have been cut away to make room for book-presses, as at Westminster. The south alley appears to have been shut off at the east end, and also at the west end, by a screen[199].

(From Mr Murray's _Handbook to the Western Cathedrals_.)]

This drawing will help us to understand the arrangement of the wooden carrells used at Durham and elsewhere. Each carrell must have closely resembled a modern sentry-box, with this difference, that one side was formed by a light of the window looking into the cloister-garth, opposite to which was the door of entrance. This, I imagine, would be of no great height; and moreover was made of open work, partly that the work of the occupant might be supervised, partly to let as much light as possible pass through into the cloister-library. The seat would be on one side of the carrell and the desk on the other, the latter being so arranged that the light would enter on the reader's left hand.

Carrells seem to have been usual in monasteries from very early times, not to have been introduced at a comparatively late date in order to ensure greater comfort. The earliest passage referring to them is that which I have already quoted[200], shewing that they were in use at Westminster between 1258 and 1283; at Bury S. Edmunds the destruction of the carrells is mentioned among other outrages in a riot in 1327[201]; they occur at Evesham between 1367 and 1379[202]; at Abingdon in 1383-84[203]; and at Christ Church, Canterbury, it is recorded among the good deeds of Prior Sellyng (1472-94), that in the south alley of the cloister "novos Textus quos Carolos ex novo vocamus perdecentes fecit"; words which Professor Willis renders "constructed there very convenient framed contrivances which are now-a-days called carols[204]." Their use--at any rate in some Houses--is evident from an injunction among the Customs of S. Augustine's, Canterbury, to the effect that the cellarer and others who rarely sit in cloister might not have carrells, nor in fact any brother unless he be able to help the community by copying or illuminating, or at least by adding musical notation[205]. They were in fact devices to provide a certain amount of privacy for literary work in Houses where there was no _Scriptorium_ or writing-room. At Durham, according to the author of _Rites_, they were used exclusively for reading.

The above-mentioned Customs of S. Augustine's, written between 1310 and 1344, give a valuable contemporary picture of the organization of one of the more important cloister-libraries. The care of the presses is to be entrusted to the Precentor and his subordinate, called the Succentor. The former is to have a seat in front of the press--which doubtless stood against the wall--and his carrell is to stand at no great distance, on the stone between the piers of the arches next the cloister-garth. The Succentor is to have his seat and his carrell on the bench near the press--by which the bench which commonly ran along the cloister-wall is obviously meant. These arrangements are made "in order that these two officers, or at least one of them, may always be at hand to satisfy brethren who make any demand upon their time[206]." In other words, they were the librarian and sub-librarian, who were to be always ready to answer questions. It is clear that brethren were not allowed to handle the books as they pleased.

The cloister at Durham, or at least that part of it which was used as a library, was glazed; but whether with white glass or stained glass we are not informed. So obvious a device for increasing both the comfort and the beauty of a much-frequented part of the monastic buildings was doubtless adopted in many other Houses. At Bury S. Edmunds part at least of the cloister had "painted windows representing the sun, moon and stars and the occupations of the months"; at Christ Church, Canterbury, Prior Sellyng (1472-94) "had the south walk of the cloister glazed for the use of the studious brethren"; at Peterborough the windows of the cloister