William Roberts

A PortraitofHolywell Street&its environs

Scissors & Paste Bibliographies
Santa Rosa, CA2019

Note

The following paragraphs are extracted from the edition ofWilliam Roberts' The Book-Hunter in London published inChicago, 1895, by A. C. McLurg & Co.; the original edition
was, I believe, first issued in the same year at London by Elliot
Stock.
The area around what is now the Aldwch, at the juncture of
the Strand, Fleet Street and Kingsway, was, in the nineteenth
century, the centre of the London pornography trade. This fact
is only hinted at in Robert's splendid book, and yet the author
provides a vivid and entertaining portrait of one of the mostnotorious districts in the history of bookselling and publishing,which was swept away as part of the Aldwych Development
Scheme of 1902.
William Roberts was an English publisher and bibliophile,and was an editor of The Bookworm, a literary and bibliographical periodical.

2Holywell Street

Holywell Street in the 1860s. The sign for ‘H. Smith, Bookseller’on the right-hand side may possibly be that of William Dugdale,
one of the most prolific erotica publishers of the time who often
used the pseudonym ‘H. Smith’ on his publications.

The most famous bookselling locality in this district is Holywell Street, or, as it is now generally called, Book-sellers' Row.
This street has always been afflicted with a questionable repute,not without cause, and much of the ill-odour of its past career
still clings to it. Even second-hand bookselling has not purged
it entirely. Half a century ago its shops were almost entirely
taken up with the vendors of second-hand clothes, and the offals
of several other more or less disreputable trades. Above theseshops resided the Grub Street gentry of the period. “It was,”3

says one who knew it well, “famous for its houses of call forreporters, editors and literary adventurers generally, all of whom
formed a large army of needy, clever disciples of the pen, who
lived by their wits, if they had any, and in lieu of those estimablequalifications, by cool assurance, impudence, and the gift oftheir mother tongue in spontaneous and frothy eloquence.” It
was also a famous and convenient place “for literary gentlemenand others, who were desirous of evading bailiffs and sheriffs’
officers who might be anxious of making their acquaintance,”for even if they were traced to the Holywell Street entrance ofany particular house, they could easily escape into Wych Street,and so slip the myrmidons of the law. It next became the emporium of indecent literature (from which charge it is not yet
quite free), but much of this peculiar trade was suppressed by
Lord Campbell’s Act. For nearly half a century the place has
been growing in popularity as a locus standi of the reputablesecond-hand book trade. Every book-hunter of note has
known, or knows, of its many shops. Macaulay, for example,
obtained many of his books from Holywell Street. The late Mr.
Thorns related, in the Nineteenth Century, a very curious incident which put the great historian in possession of some
French memoires of which he had long been endeavouring tosecure a copy. Macaulay was once strolling down this street,when he saw in a bookseller's window a volume of Muggletonian tracts. “Having gone in, examined the volume, and agreed
to buy it, he tendered a sovereign in payment. The bookseller
had not change, but said if he (Macaulay) would just keep aneye on the shop, he would step out and get it. His name, I think,
was Hearle, and he had some relatives of the same name who
had shops in the same street. This shop was at the west end of
the street, and backed on to Wych Street; and at the back was asmall recess, lighted by a few panes of glass, generally somewhat
obscured by the dust of ages. While Macaulay was looking
round the shop, a ray of sunshine fell through this little window4

on four little duodecimo volumes bound in vellum. He pulled
out one of these to see what the work was, and great was his
surprise and delight at finding these were the very French memoires of which he had been in search for many years.”More rare and interesting books have been picked up in thisstreet during the past forty years than in any other locality. Rumour, which sometimes tells the truth, says that Shelley’s copy,
with his autograph on the title-page, of Ossian’s Poems waspicked up here for a few pence. A book with Shakespeare’s autograph on the title-page was also said to have been rescued
from among a lot of cheap books in this locality a few years ago.
We are not certain, but we believe that the Shakespeare autograph has been proved to be a forgery. If that is so, then perhaps
the honour of being the greatest ‘find’ ever discovered, aboutfour years ago, in Holywell Street, pertains to a perfect copy ofLe Pastissier François, 1655, the most valuable of all the Elzevirs,
its value being from about £60 to £100. The copy in question
was bound up with a worthless tract, and history has not left onrecord what the bookseller thought when he discovered his ignorance. A copy of the first edition of Home’s Orion, 1843,
was purchased in this street for 2d in 1886, its market value being about £2. It was originally issued at ¼d., by way of sarcasm
on the low estimation of epic poetry. The Holywell Street
book-seller did not appraise it at a much higher figure than theauthor. Scarcely a week passes without a volume possessing
great personal or historic interest being ‘bagged’ in this narrow
but delightful thoroughfare. Many of these finds, it is true, may
not be of great commercial value, but they are oftentimes very
desirable books in more respects than one. The present writer
has been fortunate in this matter. No person would now rank
James Boswell, for instance, among great men, but a book in
two volumes, with the following inscription, “James Boswell,
From the Translator near Padua,” 1765, would not be reckoned
costly at 1s., the book in question being a beautiful copy of5

Cesarotti’s translation into Italian of Ossian’s Poems. David
Hume’s own copy of Histoire du Gouvernement de Venise, byle Sieur Amelot de la Houssaie, 1677, was not dear at 6d., andat a similar price was obtained an excessively rare volume (forwhich a well-known book-collector had been on the look-out
in vain for many years), whose contents are little indicated by
the title of Roman Tablets, 1826, but whose nature is at all
events suggested by the sub-title of ‘Facts, Anecdotes, and Observations on the Manners, Customs, Ceremonies and Government of Rome.’ It is a terrific exposure (originally written inFrench), for which the author was prosecuted at the solicitationof the Pope’s Nuncio at Paris. The late John Payne Collier has
told of a Holywell Street ‘find’ as far back as January 20, 1823,
when he picked up a very nice clean copy of Hughes’ Calypso
and Telemachus, 1712, for which he paid 2s. 6d. It was not,however, until he reached home that he discovered the remarkable nature of his purchase, which had belonged to Pope, whohad inscribed in his own autograph thirty-eight couplets, addressed “To Mr. Hughes, On His Opera.” These are only aselection from an extensive series of more or less interesting‘finds,’ of which every collector has a store.
Two of the earliest and best-known of the more important
Holywell Street booksellers passed away some years ago.
‘Tommy’ Arthur, who made a respectable fortune out of thetrade, and whose shop and connections are now in the possession of W. Ridler, who is a successful trader, and a man of considerable independence as regards the conventionalities of appearances. (Our artist’s portrait of this celebrity in his brougham,indulging in the extravagance of a clay pipe, had not arrived at
the time of going to press, so it must be held over until the next
edition of this book.) Joseph Poole was another Holywell Street
bookseller of an original type, with his quaint semi-clerical attire. This bibliopole’s relatives still carry on business in thisstreet, school-books being with them a speciality. The doyen of6the street is Mr. Henry R. Hill, whose two shops are at theextreme east end of the street. Mr. Hill has been here for about
forty years, and has seen many changes, not only in the generalcharacter of the street, but also of the tastes in book-fancies. Mr.
Hill’s shops, with Mrs. Lazarus’s three hard by, are full of interesting books, priced at very moderate figures. The latter has
been established here for about fifteen years. Messrs. Myers,
who also occupy three bookshops in this street, were for someyears with Mrs. Lazarus; and Mr. W. R. Hill acquired a great
deal of his book-knowledge at Reeves and Turner’s. Mr.
Charles Hindley has been long established in this street.
The step from fifth-rate book-making to second-handbookselling is not a great one, and just as Holywell Street sheltered the Grub-writers of half a century ago, so Drury Lane andits immediate vicinity was their recognised locality in the earlier
part of the last century. It is impossible to associate respectability, to say nothing of fashion, with this evil-smelling, squalid
thoroughfare. And yet there can be no question about its having
been at one time an aristocratic quarter. Until within the last
few years, the Lane itself, and its numerous tributaries, contained many second-hand bookshops. The most celebrated,
and, indeed, almost the only one of any interest, was Andrew
Jackson, who made a speciality of old and black-letter books.
Nichols tells us that for more than forty years he kept a shop in
Clare Market, and here, “like another Magliabecchi, midst dust
and cobwebs, he indulged his appetite for reading; legends andromances, history and poetry, were indiscriminately his favourite pursuits.” In 1740 he published the first book of Paradise
Lost in rhyme, and ten years afterwards a number of modernizations from Chaucer. The contents of his catalogues of theyears 1756, 1757, 1759, and one without date, were in rhyme.
He retired in 1777, and died in July, 1778, in the eighty-fourthyear of his age. Charles Marsh, another literary bookseller, wasfor some time a friend and neighbour of Jackson’s. Marsh (who7afterwards removed to a shop now swallowed by the improvements in Northumberland Avenue, Charing Cross) was situatedat Cicero’s Head, in New Round Court, off the Strand, and is
described by one who knew him as being afflicted with “a very
unhappy temper, and withal very proud and insolent, with aplentiful share of conceit.” He wrote a poem entitled ‘The Library, an Epistle from a Bookseller to a Gentleman, his Customer; desiring him to discharge his bill,’ 1766. He was originally a church-clerk. The only catalogue of this celebrity which
we have seen is a bulky one, over 100 pages octavo, enumerating 3,000 books, ‘among which are included the libraries of theRev. Mr. Gilbert Burnet, Minister of Clerkenwell, and an eminent apothecary, both lately deceased.’ The date is May 7,1747. Some of the prices in this catalogue can only be described
as absurd; for example, Lydgate’s Bochas; or, The Fall ofPrinces, 1517, 5s. ; a collection of old plays and poems, twovolumes, 1592, 6s.; Tusser’s Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, 1574, 2s. 6d. ; and black-letter books by the score arehere offered at sums from one to three or four shillings each.
The neighbourhood has for many years ceased to be abookselling locality, for although book-hunters prefer sidestreets and quiet thoroughfares for the prosecution of theirhobby, the pestiferous vapours of Drury Lane would kill any
bibliopolic growth more vigorous than a news-vendor's shop.

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