French Book-plates. Walter Hamilton
en tête de chaque volume d’une bibliothèque avec la signature du propriétaire. On connait ce trait d’ignorance d’un financier, homme d’ordre avant tout, qui avait ordonné à son chapelier de coller soigneusement au fond de son chapeau ‘Ex-Libris Vaudore.’ ”
But what is still more singular than the omission of ex-libris from their dictionaries, is that no word, or phrase, in their own pure and beautiful language has been set apart by our neighbours to define these interesting marks of book possession.
On early French ex-libris the phrases of possession are most frequently found in Latin, as, indeed, is the case with the early book-plates of most nations. The earliest known example, and that is simply typographical, is of Ailleboust of Autun, dated 1574; it has the expression Ex bibliotheca; but it was not until about 1700 that this and similar phrases came into general use, and they were then gradually adopted in nearly the following order: Ex bibliotheca; Ex libris; Ex catalogo bibliothecæ; Ex musæo; Insigne librorum; Bibliothèque de—; Du cabinet de—; Je suis à M——; J’appartiens à——.
It will be noticed that Latin gradually gave way to the French language, and on more modern plates French expressions are usually employed. “Je suis à Jean Tommins” (1750) and “J’appartiens à Lucien Werner” have a distinct character of their own. “Ce livre est du Monastère de la visitation de Sainte Marie de Clermont” (1830), or “Ce livre fait partie de la Bibliothèque de M. le Comte de Fortia d’Urban, demeurant à Paris, Chaussée d’Antin, rue de la Rochefoucault,” are clear and positive statements of fact. Other collectors are less explicit, simply inserting: “Bibliothèque de Pastoret,” “Bibliothèque de Rosny,” “De la Bibliothèque de M. le Chevalier Dampoigne,” “Du Cabinet de Messire Barthelemy Gabriel Rolland.”
The term Ex-libris is now generally understood to refer to the labels, either printed or engraved, fixed by owners inside their books, to show by names, arms, or other devices, to whom the volumes belong. But French collectors employ the term Ex-libris in a much wider sense than we do; as, for instance, in reference to the manuscript entries of ownership in books, as we shall see later on, when dealing with the so-called ex-libris of François Rabelais and of Charlotte Corday, which are in reality but the autographs of these celebrities written in books which once belonged to them.
That this is the well-understood rule is borne out in the very opening sentences of the charming little brochure, “Petite Revue d’Ex-Libris Alsaciens,” by the late Mons. Auguste Stoeber (Mulhouse, 1881): “Lorsque, encore assis sur les bancs de l’école, nous tracions, d’une main peu exercée, sur la garde de nos livres de classe notre nom accompagné de ce verset enfantin:
Ce livre est à moi,
Comme Paris est au roi;
Qui veut savoir mon nom,
Regarde dans ce rond,
nous ne doutions guère que nous y inscrivions des ex-libris, et cela aussi peu que plus tard, lorsque, entrés au collège, latinistes en herbe, nous y griffonions un gibet auquel était pendu Pierrot, illustration suivie invariablement de ce quatrain macaronique:
Aspice Pierrot pendu,
Quod librum n’a pas rendu.
Pierrot pendu non fuisset
Si librum reddidisset.
A cette époque le nom d’Ex-libris n’était connu et employé que par les savants de profession et par les hommes du monde, amateurs de livres.”
A recent and more authoritative ruling is that of the Council of the Société Française des Collectionneurs d’Ex-Libris, which not only permits autographs and other manuscript entries in books to be styled Ex-libris, but opens the columns of its journal to the consideration and reproduction of the armorial bearings, monograms, and devices to be found stamped on the leather bindings of books, to which it also applies the term Ex-libris.
In the programme issued with the first part of the Archives de la Société Française occurs the following paragraph dealing with this question: “Bien des personnes considèrent, à bon droit, les marques imprimées en or, ou à froid sur les plats des livres, comme de veritables Ex-Libris. Ce sont, disait un érudit, les Ex-Libris Français par excellence, leur étude est liée à celle des Ex-Libris gravés. Les archives donneront une large hospitalité à tous les documents, notes, ou détermination d’armoiries que nos membres voudront bien nous communiquer.”
British collectors treat these super libros as things apart from ex-libris. A system which includes book-plates, autographs, and armorial bearings on bookbindings under the one term Ex-Libris leads to confusion in correspondence, and is therefore to be deprecated.
The earliest known examples of ex-libris are German, and the custom of using them originated no doubt in that country, where costly bindings, with arms emblazoned on the covers, as in France and Italy, were seldom indulged in.
Earliest in the field in the art of printing, and prolific in book-making, the Germans never attached very particular importance to elegant and sumptuous bindings.
Valuing their books for their intrinsic, rather than extrinsic merits, they covered them with good stout wooden boards and strong metal clasps, and soon discovered that a printed label, or a rough woodcut of a coat-of-arms, was as useful a mode of proclaiming the ownership of a volume as the showy, but costly, system of heraldic emblazoning in gold, silver, and colours, adopted by their more luxurious neighbours.
Hence it is not so very uncommon to find German ex-libris dated in the early years of the sixteenth century, whereas the earliest known French plate is of a much later date. In fact, no French ex-libris of undoubted authenticity has been discovered with an earlier date than 1574, a memorable year for collectors, as being that which is also found on the earliest known English plate, the fine armorial of Sir Nicholas Bacon, a facsimile of which will be found in Mr. Griggs’s valuable collection of “Examples of Armorial Book-Plates,” 1884.
Unfortunately, the first French dated ex-libris is nothing more than a plain label printed with movable type, and bearing the inscription: “Ex Bibliothecâ Caroli Albosii E. Eduensis. Ex labore quies. 1574.”
Now, with the exception of the dated autographs of owners of books, with which we are not here dealing, this ex-libris of the book collector of Autun is the earliest dated example of a French mark of possession which has yet been found affixed to the interior of a book in any French library.
It may well be, however, that this was not actually the first ex-libris employed in France, for there exist, in collections of old engravings, many nameless coats-of-arms emblazoned by French artists in the sixteenth century, the origin and use of which are doubtful, and may remain unrecognized for ever.
A long interval occurs between 1574 and the next dated plate, which is that of Alexandre Bouchart, Sieur de Blosseville, an ex-libris, folio size, engraved by Léonard Gaultier, and dated 1611.
Alexandre Bouchart was councillor in the parliament of Rouen; he died some time before 1622. His ex-libris was found fixed on the cover of a copy of the works of Ptolemy in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. The “Ptolemy” was printed in Amsterdam, 1605, folio.
This engraving is exceedingly valuable on account of its rarity, its early date, the beauty of its design, and the simplicity and purity of its heraldry. M. Henri Bouchot gives a reproduction of it in his work on “Les Ex-Libris” (p. 32), but as it is only a quarter the size of the original, and is not clearly printed, it gives but a faint idea of the beauty of the work. This is, according to the most recent investigation, the next French plate to that of Charles Ailleboust d’Autun, in order of date as actually printed or engraved on the ex-libris itself, and of unquestionable authenticity.
Then comes a plate which is not only of the greatest interest on account of its antiquity, but also because of its large size, its extreme rarity, and the quaint design. The plate is that of Melchior de la Vallée, Canon, etc., of St. George at Nancy, which bears