The 1597 edition of the Opera Omnia of Tertullian, edited by Franciscus Junius, is one of the rarer early editions. A few days ago, I learned that there was a copy at the Tresoar library in Frisia, in the Netherlands, shelf-mark “F 1532”. The volume has a clear stamp showing that at one point it belonged the library of the King’s Inns, in Dublin.
The four Inns of Court in London are professional associations, which every barrister must join in order to practice, and which provide various facilities for the legal profession. But Dublin did and does possess its own inn of court, the King’s Inns, which fulfils a similar role in the Irish legal system. This was established in 1541, and is an important part of the cultural heritage of Ireland. In particular it built up a valuable general library of antiquarian books and maps, including incunables, only a portion of which were related to the law. But much of it was of crucial importance for Irish heritage and cultural identity. Often the book was the only copy in the country, in some cases almost the only copy known to exist.
In 1971, however, something strange happened. The King’s Inns was in serious financial difficulty. This had been made worse by spending significant sums on its catering arrangements. The ruling council of King’s Inns, the “benchers”, had to do something. So what they decided to do was to sell those books in the library which were not related to the law, books “under the classification of scientific, religious and geographical.”
As news of the proposed sale drifted out into the library community in Ireland, concerns began to appear, and increasing numbers of questions were asked. Scenting trouble, the then Irish Prime Minister obtained a promise from the benchers not to sell books which contained “any reference to Ireland.” 1 The barristers themselves began to ask questions about what was happening. But Sotheby’s were instructed, and duly proceeded to remove all the books. Shockingly it seems that the benchers did not even pay very much attention to just which books were removed. A short hand list existed of a few hundred volumes, but this was only a fraction of what was removed:
It is clear that, as the van from Sotheby’s drove down Henrietta Street laden with some 7,000 volumes comprising almost three thousand titles, nobody at King’s Inns knew exactly which books had gone from the society’s library. Not even Sotheby’s had a list.2
Inevitably this meant that a number of valuable legal books were also taken, as well as books clearly of cultural importance. Around 90,000 volumes were left, about 50% of which are non-legal.
Despite frantic attempts by Irish libraries to rescue at least some of the books, this collection was disposed of in 1972 in three sales, raising a total of £138,975 for the King’s Inns, plus a commission of approximately £24,000 going to Sothebys. 3 In modern money this would be approximately £2.38m and £411k. In these days, when the expenditure of a few million pounds is almost petty cash, the income from the sale seems very paltry compared to the damage that it did to Ireland. 4
