Prices of Books. Wheatley Henry Benjamin

fame to spread;

      The great, the wise, the knowing man is dead.

      And you in painting skill’d, his loss bewail;

      He’s dead!—that did expose your works to sale.

      Can you forget how he for you did bawl,

      ‘Come, put it in?—a fine original,

      Done by a curious hand:—What strokes are here,

      Drawn to the life? How fine it does appear!

      O lovely piece!—Ten pound,—five pound;—for shame,

      You do not bid the value of the frame.’

      How many pretty stories would he tell

      To enhance the price, and make the picture sell!

      But now he’s gone!—ah! the sad loss deplore;

      Great Millington!—alas! he is no more.

      And you, the Muses’ darlings, too, rehearse

      Your sorrows for the loss of him in verse:

      Mourn! mourn! together, for that tyrant death

      Has robb’d the famous auctioneer of breath.”

The Epitaph

      Underneath this marble stone

      Lies the famous Millington;

      A man who through the world did steer

      I’ th’ station of an auctioneer;

      A man with wondrous sense and wisdom blest,

      Whose qualities are not to be exprest.

      We have given so much space to Millington, because it is interesting to see how similar were the practices of auctioneers at the first institution of the business to what they are at the present time, and also because Millington seems to have been considered the most famous of auctioneers, until James Christie arose to take his place as chief representative of the profession. It may be added to his honour that he was a friend of Milton, who lodged in his house.

      Richard Chiswell (1639-1711) was more of a bookseller than an auctioneer, but his name must be mentioned here. He was one of the four who issued the fourth folio edition of Shakespeare’s Plays, and he was the official publisher of the Votes of the House. Dunton describes him as “the metropolitan bookseller of England, if not of all the world,” and says that he never printed a bad book, or one on bad paper.

      Jonathan Greenwood, bookseller and auctioneer, is described by Dunton as a worthy but unfortunate man, “so that the chief thing he has left to boast of is a virtuous wife and several small children.” He adds, “But he still deserves the love and esteem of all good men, for the worst that can be said of him is, ‘There goes a poor honest man,’ which is much better than ‘There goes a rich knave.’”

      How little is known of some of these early auctioneers may be seen from the fact that John Bullord, who sold books at the end of the seventeenth century, is said by the careful John Nichols to be a member of the well-known bookselling family of Ballard. I cannot find any information respecting Bullord, but it is very improbable that this name was merely a misspelling of Ballard.

      The name of Samuel Paterson (1728-1802) will always be held in honour among English bibliographers, for he was one of the first to improve the art of cataloguing, and he gained great fame from his labours in this department. He had one great fault, however, for he was so insatiable a reader, that when in cataloguing he came upon a book he had not seen before, he must needs read the book then, and thus his work was much delayed, and often his catalogues could not be obtained until a few hours before the sale. He was the son of a woollen draper in St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, but lost his father when he was only twelve years old; his guardian neglected him, and having involved his property in his own bankruptcy, sent him to France. Here he acquired a considerable knowledge of French literature, which served him in good stead through life. When little more than twenty years of age he opened a shop in the Strand, opposite Durham Yard. This bookselling business was unsuccessful, and he then commenced as a general auctioneer at Essex House. It was during this period of his life that he saved the collection of valuable manuscripts formerly belonging to Sir Julius Cæsar from being sold as waste-paper to a cheesemonger. He classified the MSS., and made an excellent catalogue of them, and when they came to be sold by auction they realised £356. Although Paterson made an excellent auctioneer, he was no more successful financially than in his other ventures. He therefore accepted the post of librarian to the Earl of Shelburne (afterwards first Marquis of Lansdowne); but after a few years there was a quarrel, and he was obliged to return to the business of cataloguing and selling of libraries.

      The Rev. C. H. Hartshorne, in his “Book Rarities,” mentions a print by Nicholls in the British Museum, called “The Complete Auctioneer,” representing a man with spectacles on, standing at a table covered with books, which are lettered at the tops. Underneath are these lines—

      “Come, sirs, and view this famous Library;

      ’Tis pity learning should discouraged be:

      Here’s bookes (that is, if they were but well sold)

      I will maintain ’t are worth their weight in gold.

      Then bid apace, and break me out of hand:

      Ne’er cry you don’t the subject understand.

      For this I’ll say—howe’er the case may hit,—

      Whoever buys of me—I’ll teach ’em wit.”

      Although the London booksellers went into the country to sell books, there were some local auctioneers, as, for instance, Michael Johnson (the father of Dr. Samuel Johnson), who kept a bookstall in Lichfield, and attended the neighbouring towns on market days. Johnson’s address to his customers is taken from “A Catalogue of Choice Books, … to be sold by auction, or he who bids most, at the Talbot, in Sidbury, Worcester,” and is quoted from Clarke’s Repertorium Bibliographicum (1819)—

      “To all Gentlemen, Ladies, and Others in or near Worcester,—I have had several auctions in your neighbourhood, as Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Evesham, &c., with success, and am now to address myself and try my fortune with you.—You must not wonder that I begin every Day’s Sale with small and common books; the reason is a room is some time a filling, and persons of address and business, seldom coming first, they are entertainment till we are full; they are never the last books of the best kind of that sort for ordinary families and young persons, &c. But in the body of the Catalogue you will find Law, Mathematicks, History: and for the learned in Divinity there are Drs. Souter, Taylor, Tillotson, Beveridge, and Flavel, &c., the best of that kind: and to please the Ladies I have added store of fine pictures and paper hangings, and, by the way, I would desire them to take notice that the pictures shall always be put up by the noon of that day they are to be sold, that they may be view’d by day light. I have no more but to wish you pleas’d and myself a good sale, who am

Your Humble Servant,M. Johnson.”

      The sale took place in the evening, commencing at six o’clock and continuing till all the lots were sold.

      The existing firms of literary auctioneers, Sotheby, Wilkinson & Hodge; Puttick & Simpson; Christie, Manson & Woods; and Hodgsons, are all of considerable standing, but Sotheby’s is of the greatest antiquity. Samuel Baker, the founder of the house, commenced business in 1744 with sale of Dr. Thomas Pellet’s library (£859) in York Street, Covent Garden. He continued sole member of the firm till 1774, when he entered into partnership with George Leigh (who is styled by Beloe “the finical bookseller”). Baker died in 1778, in his sixty-sixth year, when he left his property to his nephew, John Sotheby, who in 1780 was in partnership with Leigh. In 1800 the style was Leigh, Sotheby & Son, John Sotheby’s son Samuel being taken into partnership. In 1803 the business was removed from York Street to 145 Strand, opposite Catharine Street, and in 1818 to the present house in Wellington Street. The third and last Sotheby, Mr. Samuel Leigh Sotheby, became a partner in 1837, and in 1843 Mr. John Wilkinson entered the firm as a partner. The style was Sotheby and Wilkinson till 1864, when