{This is a response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw. It is based on a view of the George Peabody Library from Google Streetview. Until the 1980’s this was part of the Peabody Institute, and now it belongs to Johns Hopkins University, in Baltimore, Maryland. The roof is glass-paneled, 61 feet above the floor, and there are five galleries below it. Embellished with wrought iron and columns, these galleries are filled with books, mostly from the 19th and 20th century, but they also include many first editions by authors such as Darwin, Cervantes, and Melville. This is an imagined story, about a real book that escaped from this “non-lending” library for 50 years.}
A few quotes are instructive:
“A liberal deviseth liberal things, and by liberal things shall he stand.”
Isaiah 32:8, mentioned in the letter from the Institute thanking Peabody for his gift. To “devise” in one of its meanings, is to give through one’s will, and in this Biblical verse, “liberal” is often translated instead as “noble,” and is meant in no way to be political, but may mean something more like generous, or giving freely.
“[I] wish that this Institute serve to embellish the city whose prosperity, I trust, will ever be distinguished by an equal growth in knowledge and virtue.”
“I wish to provide for an extensive library, to be well-furnished in every department of knowledge and of the most approved literature…”
Peabody, describing his intentions for Baltimore and for his library, in his letter of endowment, 1857.
***************
The Centennial Celebration spun below me. After the Yanks left Baltimore, in 1867, the Institute was built.
Peabody funded it ten years earlier. Eight million, today. A grand gesture.
I, too, can be generous. And a robber baron.
Ornate iron bars guarded the first editions. But, when the music swelled, I found it.
Magnificent! A tiny prayer book from the 1400’s. The Luneborch of Luebeck, illuminated in gold. Hadn’t Peabody insisted that we Baltimoreons should enjoy prosperity, knowledge and virtue in equal measure?
Well, perhaps not virtue.
I tucked the volume in my satchel.
I kept it in an enamel box for fifty years. Gloved, I tenderly savored each gilded page.
When I became ill, I enlisted a child’s help. She took the package and slipped my liberal endowment through the slot. Book rate.
I could have taken it to the grave. But I only wanted to borrow it.
You almost persuade me that your ‘robber baron’ liberated the book, removing it from behind bars and appreciating its beauty carefully, and with reverence, and with passion.
Well, Penny, perhaps it didn’t happen this way, but one thing’s for sure: someone took it. And someone returned it, 50 years later. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
This was wonderfully told, Andrea. I loved it.
Thank you Dale! Love the location this time. Have to go someday to see it!
Dear Andrea,
Loved the tone of the story. A real gilded page turner with a giggle at the end. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
My nameless scholar does seem to feel quite justified in his actions. Glad you enjoyed the irony of borrowing from a non-lending library.
Smashing story! Love the voice.
Glad you liked him, Karen! He seems very pragmatic to me. Not acting with evil intent, necessarily: just a little selfish. We may disapprove of him, but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t invite him for coffee.