Books and Bookmen [44]
of Walsingham, of the Earl of
Sussex, and of Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham. There is also
the signature, "Your most infortunat, ARBELLA SEYMOUR;" and "Fr.
Bacon."
This remarkable manuscript was purchased in Paris, during the
Revolution, by Peter Dubrowsky, who carried it to Russia. Another
Book of Hours of the Queen's bears this inscription, in a sixteenth-
century hand: "Ce sont les Heures de Marie Setuart Renne.
Marguerite de Blacuod de Rosay." In De Blacuod it is not very easy
to recognise "Blackwood." Marguerite was probably the daughter of
Adam Blackwood, who wrote a volume on Mary Stuart's sufferings
(Edinburgh, 1587).
The famous Marguerite de Valois, the wife of Henri IV., had
certainly a noble library, and many beautifully bound books stamped
with daisies are attributed to her collections. They bear the
motto, "Expectata non eludet," which appears to refer, first to the
daisy ("Margarita"), which is punctual in the spring, or rather is
"the constellated flower that never sets," and next, to the lady,
who will "keep tryst." But is the lady Marguerite de Valois?
Though the books have been sold at very high prices as relics of the
leman of La Mole, it seems impossible to demonstrate that they were
ever on her shelves, that they were bound by Clovis Eve from her own
design. "No mention is made of them in any contemporary document,
and the judicious are reduced to conjectures." Yet they form a most
important collection, systematically bound, science and philosophy
in citron morocco, the poets in green, and history and theology in
red. In any case it is absurd to explain "Expectata non eludet" as
a reference to the lily of the royal arms, which appears on the
centre of the daisy-pied volumes. The motto, in that case, would
run, "Expectata (lilia) non eludent." As it stands, the feminine
adjective, "expectata," in the singular, must apply either to the
lady who owned the volumes, or to the "Margarita," her emblem, or to
both. Yet the ungrammatical rendering is that which M. Bauchart
suggests. Many of the books, Marguerite's or not, were sold at
prices over 100 pounds in London, in 1884 and 1883. The Macrobius,
and Theocritus, and Homer are in the Cracherode collection at the
British Museum. The daisy crowned Ronsard went for 430 pounds at
the Beckford sale. These prices will probably never be reached
again.
If Anne of Austria, the mother of Louis XIV., was a bibliophile, she
may be suspected of acting on the motive, "Love me, love my books."
About her affection for Cardinal Mazarin there seems to be no doubt:
the Cardinal had a famous library, and his royal friend probably
imitated his tastes. In her time, and on her volumes, the
originality and taste of the skilled binder, Le Gascon, begin to
declare themselves. The fashionable passion for lace, to which La
Fontaine made such sacrifices, affected the art of book decorations,
and Le Gascon's beautiful patterns of gold points and dots are
copies of the productions of Venice. The Queen-Mother's books
include many devotional treatises, for, whatever other fashions
might come and go, piety was always constant before the Revolution.
Anne of Austria seems to have been particularly fond of the lives
and works of Saint Theresa, and Saint Francois de Sales, and John of
the Cross. But she was not unread in the old French poets, such as
Coquillart; she condescended to Ariosto; she had that dubious
character, Theophile de Viaud, beautifully bound; she owned the
Rabelais of 1553; and, what is particularly interesting, M. de
Lignerolles possesses her copy of 'L'Eschole des Femmes, Comedie par
J. B. P. Moliere. Paris: Guillaume de Luynes, 1663.' In 12
[degree sign], red morocco, gilt edges, and the Queen's arms on the
covers. This relic is especially valuable when we remember that
'L'Ecole des Femmes' and Arnolphe's sermon to Agnes, and his comic
threats of future punishment first made envy take the form of
religious persecution. The devout Queen-Mother was often appealed
to by the enemies
Sussex, and of Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham. There is also
the signature, "Your most infortunat, ARBELLA SEYMOUR;" and "Fr.
Bacon."
This remarkable manuscript was purchased in Paris, during the
Revolution, by Peter Dubrowsky, who carried it to Russia. Another
Book of Hours of the Queen's bears this inscription, in a sixteenth-
century hand: "Ce sont les Heures de Marie Setuart Renne.
Marguerite de Blacuod de Rosay." In De Blacuod it is not very easy
to recognise "Blackwood." Marguerite was probably the daughter of
Adam Blackwood, who wrote a volume on Mary Stuart's sufferings
(Edinburgh, 1587).
The famous Marguerite de Valois, the wife of Henri IV., had
certainly a noble library, and many beautifully bound books stamped
with daisies are attributed to her collections. They bear the
motto, "Expectata non eludet," which appears to refer, first to the
daisy ("Margarita"), which is punctual in the spring, or rather is
"the constellated flower that never sets," and next, to the lady,
who will "keep tryst." But is the lady Marguerite de Valois?
Though the books have been sold at very high prices as relics of the
leman of La Mole, it seems impossible to demonstrate that they were
ever on her shelves, that they were bound by Clovis Eve from her own
design. "No mention is made of them in any contemporary document,
and the judicious are reduced to conjectures." Yet they form a most
important collection, systematically bound, science and philosophy
in citron morocco, the poets in green, and history and theology in
red. In any case it is absurd to explain "Expectata non eludet" as
a reference to the lily of the royal arms, which appears on the
centre of the daisy-pied volumes. The motto, in that case, would
run, "Expectata (lilia) non eludent." As it stands, the feminine
adjective, "expectata," in the singular, must apply either to the
lady who owned the volumes, or to the "Margarita," her emblem, or to
both. Yet the ungrammatical rendering is that which M. Bauchart
suggests. Many of the books, Marguerite's or not, were sold at
prices over 100 pounds in London, in 1884 and 1883. The Macrobius,
and Theocritus, and Homer are in the Cracherode collection at the
British Museum. The daisy crowned Ronsard went for 430 pounds at
the Beckford sale. These prices will probably never be reached
again.
If Anne of Austria, the mother of Louis XIV., was a bibliophile, she
may be suspected of acting on the motive, "Love me, love my books."
About her affection for Cardinal Mazarin there seems to be no doubt:
the Cardinal had a famous library, and his royal friend probably
imitated his tastes. In her time, and on her volumes, the
originality and taste of the skilled binder, Le Gascon, begin to
declare themselves. The fashionable passion for lace, to which La
Fontaine made such sacrifices, affected the art of book decorations,
and Le Gascon's beautiful patterns of gold points and dots are
copies of the productions of Venice. The Queen-Mother's books
include many devotional treatises, for, whatever other fashions
might come and go, piety was always constant before the Revolution.
Anne of Austria seems to have been particularly fond of the lives
and works of Saint Theresa, and Saint Francois de Sales, and John of
the Cross. But she was not unread in the old French poets, such as
Coquillart; she condescended to Ariosto; she had that dubious
character, Theophile de Viaud, beautifully bound; she owned the
Rabelais of 1553; and, what is particularly interesting, M. de
Lignerolles possesses her copy of 'L'Eschole des Femmes, Comedie par
J. B. P. Moliere. Paris: Guillaume de Luynes, 1663.' In 12
[degree sign], red morocco, gilt edges, and the Queen's arms on the
covers. This relic is especially valuable when we remember that
'L'Ecole des Femmes' and Arnolphe's sermon to Agnes, and his comic
threats of future punishment first made envy take the form of
religious persecution. The devout Queen-Mother was often appealed
to by the enemies