Books and Bookmen [3]
than the sides. I have a 'Rabelais' of
the good date, with the red title (1663), and some of the pages have
never been opened, at the sides. But the height is only some 122
millimetres, a mere dwarf. Anything over 130 millimetres is very
rare. Therefore the collector of Elzevirs should have one of those
useful ivory-handled knives on which the French measures are marked,
and thus he will at once be able to satisfy himself as to the exact
height of any example which he encounters.
Let us now assume that the amateur quite understands what a proper
Elzevir should be: tall, clean, well bound if possible, and of the
good date. But we have still to learn what the good dates are, and
this is matter for the study and practice of a well-spent life. We
may gossip about a few of the more famous Elzevirs, those without
which no collection is complete. Of all Elzevirs the most famous
and the most expensive is an old cookery book, "'Le Pastissier
Francois.' Wherein is taught the way to make all sorts of pastry,
useful to all sorts of persons. Also the manner of preparing all
manner of eggs, for fast-days, and other days, in more than sixty
fashions. Amsterdam, Louys, and Daniel Elsevier. 1665." The mark
is not the old "Sage," but the "Minerva" with her owl. Now this
book has no intrinsic value any more than a Tauchnitz reprint of any
modern volume on cooking. The 'Pastissier' is cherished because it
is so very rare. The tract passed into the hands of cooks, and the
hands of cooks are detrimental to literature. Just as nursery
books, fairy tales, and the like are destroyed from generation to
generation, so it happens with books used in the kitchen. The
'Pastissier,' to be sure, has a good frontispiece, a scene in a Low
Country kitchen, among the dead game and the dainties. The buxom
cook is making a game pie; a pheasant pie, decorated with the bird's
head and tail-feathers, is already made. {1}
Not for these charms, but for its rarity, is the 'Pastissier'
coveted. In an early edition of the 'Manuel' (1821) Brunet says,
with a feigned brutality (for he dearly loved an Elzevir), "Till now
I have disdained to admit this book into my work, but I have yielded
to the prayers of amateurs. Besides, how could I keep out a volume
which was sold for one hundred and one francs in 1819?" One hundred
and one francs! If I could only get a 'Pastissier' for one hundred
and one francs! But our grandfathers lived in the Bookman's
Paradise. "Il n'est pas jusqu'aux Anglais," adds Brunet--"the very
English themselves--have a taste for the 'Pastissier.'" The Duke of
Marlborough's copy was actually sold for 1 pound 4s. It would have
been money in the ducal pockets of the house of Marlborough to have
kept this volume till the general sale of all their portable
property at which our generation is privileged to assist. No wonder
the 'Pastissier' was thought rare. Berard only knew two copies.
Pietiers, writing on the Elzevirs in 1843, could cite only five
'Pastissiers,' and in his 'Annales' he had found out but five more.
Willems, on the other hand, enumerates some thirty, not including
Motteley's. Motteley was an uncultivated, untaught enthusiast. He
knew no Latin, but he had a FLAIR for uncut Elzevirs. "Incomptis
capillis," he would cry (it was all his lore) as he gloated over his
treasures. They were all burnt by the Commune in the Louvre
Library.
A few examples may be given of the prices brought by 'Le Pastissier'
in later days. Sensier's copy was but 128 millimetres in height,
and had the old ordinary vellum binding,--in fact, it closely
resembled a copy which Messrs. Ellis and White had for sale in Bond
Street in 1883. The English booksellers asked, I think, about 1,500
francs for their copy. Sensier's was sold for 128 francs in April,
1828; for 201 francs in 1837. Then the book was gloriously bound by
Trautz-Bauzonnet, and was sold with Potier's books in 1870, when it
fetched 2,910 francs. At the Benzon sale (1875) it fetched 3,255
francs, and, falling
the good date, with the red title (1663), and some of the pages have
never been opened, at the sides. But the height is only some 122
millimetres, a mere dwarf. Anything over 130 millimetres is very
rare. Therefore the collector of Elzevirs should have one of those
useful ivory-handled knives on which the French measures are marked,
and thus he will at once be able to satisfy himself as to the exact
height of any example which he encounters.
Let us now assume that the amateur quite understands what a proper
Elzevir should be: tall, clean, well bound if possible, and of the
good date. But we have still to learn what the good dates are, and
this is matter for the study and practice of a well-spent life. We
may gossip about a few of the more famous Elzevirs, those without
which no collection is complete. Of all Elzevirs the most famous
and the most expensive is an old cookery book, "'Le Pastissier
Francois.' Wherein is taught the way to make all sorts of pastry,
useful to all sorts of persons. Also the manner of preparing all
manner of eggs, for fast-days, and other days, in more than sixty
fashions. Amsterdam, Louys, and Daniel Elsevier. 1665." The mark
is not the old "Sage," but the "Minerva" with her owl. Now this
book has no intrinsic value any more than a Tauchnitz reprint of any
modern volume on cooking. The 'Pastissier' is cherished because it
is so very rare. The tract passed into the hands of cooks, and the
hands of cooks are detrimental to literature. Just as nursery
books, fairy tales, and the like are destroyed from generation to
generation, so it happens with books used in the kitchen. The
'Pastissier,' to be sure, has a good frontispiece, a scene in a Low
Country kitchen, among the dead game and the dainties. The buxom
cook is making a game pie; a pheasant pie, decorated with the bird's
head and tail-feathers, is already made. {1}
Not for these charms, but for its rarity, is the 'Pastissier'
coveted. In an early edition of the 'Manuel' (1821) Brunet says,
with a feigned brutality (for he dearly loved an Elzevir), "Till now
I have disdained to admit this book into my work, but I have yielded
to the prayers of amateurs. Besides, how could I keep out a volume
which was sold for one hundred and one francs in 1819?" One hundred
and one francs! If I could only get a 'Pastissier' for one hundred
and one francs! But our grandfathers lived in the Bookman's
Paradise. "Il n'est pas jusqu'aux Anglais," adds Brunet--"the very
English themselves--have a taste for the 'Pastissier.'" The Duke of
Marlborough's copy was actually sold for 1 pound 4s. It would have
been money in the ducal pockets of the house of Marlborough to have
kept this volume till the general sale of all their portable
property at which our generation is privileged to assist. No wonder
the 'Pastissier' was thought rare. Berard only knew two copies.
Pietiers, writing on the Elzevirs in 1843, could cite only five
'Pastissiers,' and in his 'Annales' he had found out but five more.
Willems, on the other hand, enumerates some thirty, not including
Motteley's. Motteley was an uncultivated, untaught enthusiast. He
knew no Latin, but he had a FLAIR for uncut Elzevirs. "Incomptis
capillis," he would cry (it was all his lore) as he gloated over his
treasures. They were all burnt by the Commune in the Louvre
Library.
A few examples may be given of the prices brought by 'Le Pastissier'
in later days. Sensier's copy was but 128 millimetres in height,
and had the old ordinary vellum binding,--in fact, it closely
resembled a copy which Messrs. Ellis and White had for sale in Bond
Street in 1883. The English booksellers asked, I think, about 1,500
francs for their copy. Sensier's was sold for 128 francs in April,
1828; for 201 francs in 1837. Then the book was gloriously bound by
Trautz-Bauzonnet, and was sold with Potier's books in 1870, when it
fetched 2,910 francs. At the Benzon sale (1875) it fetched 3,255
francs, and, falling