thorp stood a little backward to the right of his father, earl Spencer. Such was 'the ground taken up' by the adverse hosts. The honour of firing the first shot was due to a gentleman of Shropshire, unused to this species of warfare, and who seemed to recoil from the reverberation of the report himself had made!—'One hundred guineas,' he exclaimed. Again a pause ensued; but anon the biddings rose rapidly to 500 guineas. Hitherto, however, it was evident that the firing was but masked and desultory. At length all random shots ceased; and the champions before named stood gallantly up to each other, resolving not to flinch from a trial of their respective strengths.
"' A thousand guineas' were bid by earl Spencer—to which the marquis added 'ten'. You might have heard a pin drop. All eyes were turned—all breathing well nigh stopped—every sword was put home within its scabbard—and not a piece of steel was seen to move or to glitter, except that which each of these champions brandished in his valorous hand. See, see!—they parry, they lunge, they bet: yet their strength is undiminished, and no thought of yielding is entertained by either. Two thousand pounds are offered by the marquis. Then it was that earl Spencer, as a prudent general, began to think of a useless effusion of blood and expenditure of ammunition—seeing that his adversary was as resolute and 'fresh' as at the onset. For a quarter of a minute he paused: when my lord Althorp advanced one step forward, as if to supply his father with another spear for the purpose of renewing the contest. His countenance was marked by a fixed determination to gain the prize—if prudence, in its most commanding form, and with a frown of unusual intensity of expression, had not bade him desist. The father and son for a few seconds converse apart; and the biddings are resumed. 'Two thousand two hundred and fifty pounds' said lord Spencer! The spectators were now absolutely electrified. The marquis quietly adds his usual 'ten,' * * and there is an end of the contest. Mr Evans, ere his hammer fell made a due pause—and indeed, as if by something preternatural, the ebony instrument itself seemed to be charmed or suspended ' in the mid air.' However, at length, down dropped the hammer. * * * The spectators," continues Mr Dibdin in his text, "stood aghast! and the sound of Mr Evans 7 prostrate sceptre of dominion reached, and resounded from, the utmost shores of Italy. The echo of that fallen hammer was heard in the libraries of Rome, of Milan, and St Mark. Boccaccio himself started from his slumber of some five hundred years; and Mr Van Praet rushed, but rushed in vain, amidst the royal book-treasures at Paris to see if a copy of the said Valdarfer Boccaccio could there be found! The price electrified the bystanders, and astounded the public![1]
"What boots it to recount minutely the various achievements which marked the conclusion of the Roxburgh contest, or to describe in the manner of Sterne, the melancholy devastations which followed that deathless day? The battle languished towards its termination [rather, we suspect, from a failure of ammunition than of valour or spirit on the part of the combatants]; but notwithstanding, there was oftentimes a disposition manifested to resume the glories of the earlier part of the day—and to show that the spirit of bibliomania was not made of poor and perishable stuff. Illustrious be the names of the book-heroes, who both conquered and fell during the tremendous conflict just de-
- ↑ The marquis's triumph was marked by a plaudit of hands, and presently after he offered his hand to lord Spencer, saying, "We are good friends still!" His lordship replied, "Perfectly, indeed I am obliged to you." "So am I to you." said the marquis; "so the obligation is mutual." He declared that it was his intention to have gone as far as £5000. The noble marquis had previously possessed a copy of the same edition, wanting five leaves; "for which five leaves," lord S. remarked, "he might be said to have given £2600."
