Category Archives: Provenance

Annotated Books and Hidden Genealogies

Rare books are as much artifacts as they are texts and there is no better proof of this than the ways in which early readers bound, annotated, and otherwise customized their books. Paper in particular was much scarcer in the early modern period than it is today, so fly-leaves and margins were prime spaces in which to jot down thoughts on the text. They were also a favorite place for children to practice penmanship or readers to make idle doodles. Some owners, like the anonymous one who recorded his yearly livestock (“hors”, “sheeps”, “cow”, “hogs”) expenses in his copy of John Brinsley’s 1627 Ludus Literarius, or, The Grammar Schoole [371 B7l1627 c.2], even used blank space for accounting.

Still other owners used their books to preserve genealogical information like births, marriages, and deaths. Usually this information was recorded in a family Bible that was passed down to children, grandchildren, and beyond, each subsequent generation recording their own important family dates. Between roughly 1750 and 1830, the Baker family of South Milford, Yorkshire wrote their important dates, however, in a calf-bound volume containing two works: Edward Brerewood’s Enquiries Touching the Diuersity of Languages, and Religions, through the Chiefe Parts of the World (1622) and A Remonstrance of the Most Gratious King Iames I. King of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. (1629) [409 B75e1622].

EnquiriesTouching01

(Brerewood, title page and second fly-leaf verso, with inscriptions)

We do not know who first owned this 17th-century volume, although several men left behind ownership markings: John Baker, William Baker, Benjamin Baker, William Shooter, and William Taylor. There were two Benjamin Bakers, a “Juner” and a senior. Benjamin Baker, Sr. fathered at least nine “sun[s]” and “doughter[s],” born between 1764 and 1781, and their births and early deaths make up many of the entries in the volume. Of the nine children, only three lived to adulthood. One was Benjamin Baker, Jr., “Born March 28th in 1766 Betwese the ouer of Ten and a Leven a Clock in the fornoon” (Brerewood 2D2v), who was followed two years later by his sister “Martha Baker Juner Born July 5th 1768 Betwesct the ouer of Siss and Seven in the fornoon” (Brerewood 2D2v). Both siblings married in 1792, Benjamin Baker to Sarah Darley[?] and Martha Baker to William Shooter.

EnquiriesTouching02

(Brerewood title leaf verso)

Sarah Baker, born February 7th, 1779, was the third surviving child of Benjamin Baker, Sr. and his wife. A daughter, Maria Mathers, was born to a John and Sarah Mathers in 1801 (Brerewood 2D1v) and daughter, Caroline Pickard Baker, was born to a Samuel and Sarah Pickard in 1826 (Brerewood 2C4v). Sarah Baker would have been 22 when Maria Mathers was born and 47 when Caroline Picard Baker was born. Was Caroline Sarah’s daughter from a second husband? There were two other Picard children, Samuell born in late 1819 (Remonstrance F1v) and Matilda born in 1822 (Remonstrance F2v), when Sarah was 40 and 43, respectively. Although not unheard of, it was unusual for women of this period to bear children into their mid- to late forties. It is also possible that Sarah Baker was the Pickard children’s grandmother. But If Caroline and her siblings were Sarah’s grandchildren, why was the surname Baker appended to Caroline’s name?
(Brerewood 2D2r)

(Brerewood 2D2r)

(Remonstrance A1v)

(Remonstrance A1v) Martha Baker, for he has written his inscription (“William Shooters Book”) throughout the second book in the volume. Shooter’s birth (“Nov 24 in the year 1770 at two o Clock morning”) is written in the margins of the first book (Brerewood 2A4v, 2B1r), as if he or Martha were deliberately incorporating him into the family genealogy.

The book must have passed into the ownership of William Shooter after his April 29th marriage toMartha Baker, for he has written his inscription (“William Shooters Book”) throughout the second book in the volume. Shooter’s birth (“Nov 24 in the year 1770 at two o Clock morning”) is written in the margins of the first book (Brerewood 2A4v, 2B1r), as if he or Martha were deliberately incorporating him into the family genealogy.

The identity of the people who recorded these of births, deaths, and marriages is unclear. It is tempting to think that Martha perhaps copied the Baker milestones from a family Bible, knowing she could not take it to her new home with Shooter and not wanting to lose the valuable family history within, but it is clear from the variance in ink colors that the milestones were recorded at different times, maybe by Martha’s mother or father. Also murky is how the Pickard / Picard and Mathers families–for they have their own share of entries in the volume–fit into the picture, although the common thread is the name Sarah.

EnquiriesTouching09

Water droplets blur the ink on this inscription: “Maria Mathers the Daughter of John & Sarah Mathers Departed this life April 15 1819 [minus] 1802 [equals] 17 at […?] past 11 Clock fornoon this day” It is possible that they are tears. (Brerewood 2D1r)

Annotated books, as this post demonstrates, can raise just as many questions as they answer. Do you have any family genealogies in books?  SL

*1764, May 1 – 1764, May 3 / Johanna Baker
1766, Mar. 28 –                   / Benjamin Baker, Jr. [m. 1792, May 23, 1792, Dec. 22?]
1768, July 5-                      / Martha Baker, Jr. [m. 1792, April 29]
*1771, Jan 21 – 1772, April 22 / William Baker
*1773, Mar. 4 – 1791, May 30 / Elezebeth Baker
*1775, May 3 – 1791, “8”       / Mary Baker
*1777, Oct. 15 – 1777, Dec. 22 / Johanna Baker
1779, Feb. 7 –                     / Sarah Baker
*1781, Oct. 21 – 1784, May 7 / James Baker

*deceased

EnquiriesTouching08

(Remonstrance A2r)

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A Christmas Carol and Its Corresponding Collector

Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present, by Solomon Eytinge, junior, and engraved by A.V.S. Anthony.

Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present, by Solomon Eytinge, junior, and engraved by A.V.S. Anthony.

While updating the catalogue record for an 1869 edition of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, I came across a letter inside the front cover. Dated 3 April 1867, it was written from Andrew Varick Stout Anthony (1835-1906) to Alexander Farnum (1830-1884) regarding William James Linton (1812-1897), an English engraver who had recently immigrated to the United States. Farnum was a Providence, Rhode Island, book collector and engraving aficionado, whose library has been described as one of “extraordinary excellence, sumptuous character and superb condition.”

The illustrations in the book were drawn by Solomon Eytinge, junior (1833-1905), and engraved by A.V.S. Anthony himself. As a book collector ever aware of matters of provenance and association, no doubt Farnum, upon acquiring the volume and remembering his correspondence with Anthony, pasted the letter into the book so as to preserve this connection.

Anthony letter 1

Anthony letter 2

694 Broadway Room 11
N.Y.  April 3d 1867

A. Farnum Esq.

Dear Sir:

W.J. Linton, the eminent English engraver – in fact the best engraver of the past or present, is in New York now, and contemplates getting up a “History of Wood Engraving,” sketching its rise and progress, but giving the larger portions of his volume to modern engraving and Engravers.

I mentioned your collection of rare old engravings to him and he is very anxious to look over them.

Would it be agreeable to you to have him drop in upon you when on his way to Boston?

He is an accomplished gentleman and has some little [infatuation?] on the other side as Poet and Journalist, and probably knows more about engraving than any other living man.

I hope to go on to Boston with him, but should I fail to make my business suit, may I give him a note to you?

Very truly yours

A.V.S. Anthony.

In 1882, Linton’s A History of Wood-Engraving in America was published in Boston and London.

Upon Farnum’s death, his collection was auctioned off by George A. Leavitt & Co. from the 9th to the 11th of June 1884. The sale was held at their headquarters at Clinton Hall (formerly the Astor Opera House) on Astor Place in Manhattan, also home to the New York Mercantile Library. Interestingly, Astor Place is only a few blocks from the location on Broadway where Anthony had written to Farnum 17 years earlier. Something of the atmosphere of this auction is surely conveyed in Spanish painter Ignacio de León y Escosura’s canvas, “Auction Sale in Clinton Hall, New York, 1876.” The building was razed in 1890 and replaced by an 11-story construction also called Clinton Hall, which stands to this day.

The catalogue of the Farnum sale naturally spoke very highly of its offerings: “Of such a class are the lots in this catalogue that the compiler honestly believes that instead of the necessity of American bibliopolists […] going to Europe of purchase from the English booksellers with whom they deal, all would find it in their best interests this Summer to buy from the Farnum Library, in Clinton Hall – books which, although printed in this century, are daily becoming of greater rarity in the old country over the sea.”

The volume was given to the Library by Mrs. Charles B. Watkins (Lucile A. Booker), class of 1899, in 1938. TB

IMG_1319

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Frances Wolfreston: A Woman Reader of the Late Renaissance Revealed

The Schoole of Vertue, and Booke of Good Nature (ca. 1640) by F. Segar

The Schoole of Vertue, and Booke of Good Nature (ca. 1640) by F. Segar

A rare book is seldom dumb. If you know how to listen, it can speak volumes (pardon the phrase) about who owned it, why it was read and how often, where it was sold, what the purchase price was, when its binding was fitted, and so on. Take the Rare Book and Manuscript Library’s The Schoole of Vertue, and Booke of Good Nature (ca. 1640) by F. Segar, shelfmark IUA11184. It is a slim, 48-page octavo bound in full blue morocco, with marbled endpapers and a bookplate from The Huth Library on the front pastedown. The binding is signed in small gilt letters by F. Bedford (1799–1883), indicating that the book was rebound sometime in the mid- to late 1800s. This is the provenance that talks the loudest. But there is a whisper, more intriguing, of somebody else: a woman reader from the late Renaissance by the name of Frances Wolfreston. 

Very faint inscription reads: "Frances Wolfreston hor bouk".

The very faint inscription reads: “Frances Wolfreston hor bouk”.

Wolfreston, who lived from 1607 to 1677, was probably the book’s first owner and would have been in her early thirties when it was published. Her inscription on the recto of leaf A3 reads Frances Wolfreston hor bouk. As the book is filled with prayers and instructions for raising children, we can surmise that she used it as a parenting aid. Some Non-Solus readers may find this information unsurprising, even typical. Wolfreston’s story is not one of a simple provincial housewife, however.

Just down the road from the RBML, at Illinois State University’s Special Collections in Normal, Illinois, is a scarce book by Lady Mary Wroth called The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania (1621)Widely considered to be the first English work of prose by a woman, Uraniais a sprawling pastoral romance with characters based on the contemporaries of its author Lady Mary Wroth, niece of Sir Philip Sidney and a lady in Queen Anne’s court. Fewer than forty copies of the work survive—most were withdrawn from publication and destroyed after Wroth’s allusions to her contemporaries sparked an outcry. (For details of the feud, see Josephine A. Roberts’s 1977 essay “An Unpublished Literary Quarrel Concerning the Suppression of Mary Wroth’s ‘Urania’ (1621).”)

Inscription reads: “[H]or bouk / bot at London”

Inscription reads: “[H]or bouk / bot at London”

Illinois State’s copy of Urania bears some interesting provenance indeed. Frances Wolfreston’s ownership inscription appears on it three times, once on each pastedown and once on the verso of leaf Mm3. Wolfreston has written “bot at London” beneath the inscription on the front pastedown. Urania exemplifies Wolfreston’s keen interest in literature and books about women. Though her collection includes a number of religious texts and domestic miscellany like The Schoole of Vertue, the majority of her surviving books are literary in nature. Identifiable women readers of this time period are rare, and it is even more unusual to come across one so unabashed in her love for romances and light reading, content thought in Wolfreston’s time to make women lazy and licentious. Wolfreston also owned dozens of pamphlets and tracts, bought from traveling chapmen and not meant to survive for centuries, as they have. The Schoole of Vertue falls in the latter category.

I am not the first to be captivated by Wolfreston’s bold inscription; scholars have been writing about her for at least thirty years. The premiere article on the subject is Paul Morgan’s 1989 “Francis Wolfreston and ‘Hor Bouks': A Seventeenth-Century Woman Book-Collector.” Morgan tells us that Wolfreston’s library, willed to her youngest living son Stanford, survived intact at the family seat of Statfold Hall for close to 200 years before being auctioned by Sotheby and Wilkinson in 1856. Though Morgan estimates that Wolfreston may have owned as many as 400 books, the whereabouts of three-fourths remain unknown.

Morgan’s essay includes an appendix of around 100 located copies of Wolfreston’s books. The School of Vertue is one, Urania is not, suggesting that many books from Wolfreston’s library have yet to come to light. Another copy not mentioned in Morgan’s appendix is Wolfreston’s copy of Chaucer, given hor by hor motherinlaw, featured in 2008 on the blog of Sarah Werner, Digital Media Specialist at the Folger Library. Werner has also highlighted Wolfreston’s copy of Othello, now housed at the University of Pennsylvania. It is a book which Wolfreston–not a habitual note-maker–has declared a sad one. (For more by Werner, visit her blog here: http://sarahwerner.net/blog/). The majority of Wolfreston’s books have ended up in the Folger, the British Library, The Huntington, and other academic libraries.

Unlike the thick quarto that is UraniaThe Schoole of Vertue is a short, thin volume, a booklet really, that illuminates the domestic side of a literature-lover. The book is well-used; the pages are creased, smudged, and softly worn in the same manner as Urania‘s. Taken together, The Schoole of Vertue and Urania indicate that Wolfreston returned to her books again and again throughout her lifetime. Unfortunately, binder F. Bedford or another previous owner expunged Wolfreston’s trademark inscription from The Schoole of Vertue; only a faint blot remains, impossible to make out unless you’ve seen her hand before (and had the aid of Morgan’s helpful appendix). Still, it is worth examining the next time you visit the Rare Book and Manuscript Library—and has much to say about what you can learn from a book if only you listen closely.

The Schoole of Vertue

The Schoole of Vertue

Unlike the thick quarto that is Urania, The Schoole of Vertue is a short, thin volume, a booklet really, that illuminates the domestic side of a literature-lover. The book is well-used; the pages are creased, smudged, and softly worn in the same manner as Urania‘s. Taken together, The Schoole of Vertue and Urania indicate that Wolfreston returned to her books again and again throughout her lifetime. Unfortunately, binder F. Bedford or another previous owner expunged Wolfreston’s trademark inscription from The Schoole of Vertue; only a faint blot remains, impossible to make out unless you’ve seen her hand before (and had the aid of Morgan’s helpful appendix). Still, it is worth examining the next time you visit the Rare Book and Manuscript Library—and has much to say about what you can learn from a book if only you listen closely. —Sarah Lindenbaum, Project Cataloger

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October 28, 2013 · 9:58 am

Newly Discovered Association Copies

Curatorial intern Brian Flota has been searching the Library’s modern British literature holdings in order to track down items from the Tom Turner collection of British literature, purchased by Gordon Ray in the 1950s. In the process, Brian discovered many previously unknown association copies and a number of fine press poetry chapbooks. In this post, he picks ten of the items to share with the readers of Non Solus.

(1) Stanley J. Weyman. The Great House. London: John Murray, 1919. (823 W54gr 1919)

Stanley Weyman (1855-1928) is best known for his French historical romances, which were compared to Alexandre Dumas at the time of their publication. This late novel, The Great House, is about the anti-corn law movement. The library’s copy features an inscription from Weyman to Leonard Huxley (1860-1933), thanking him for his “kindly encouragement and oversight.” Leonard Huxley was the editor of the Cornhill Magazine, in which this work was originally serialized. He was also the father of the great English novelist Aldous Huxley (1894-1963).

(2) Ouida. “Held in Bondage,” or, Granville de Vigne: A Tale of the Day. London: Tinsley, Brothers, 1863. (823 D374he)

Ouida was the nom de plume of Maria Louise Ramé (1839-1908), a prolific English writer known primarily for her popular adventures and historical novels. Held in Bondage was her first novel, published in three volumes. The Library’s copy includes a four-page letter, handwritten and signed by Ouida, tipped-in the first volume. Ouida lived a tempestuous life filled with extravagances paid for by her best-selling novels, but died in poverty in Italy, surrounded by the many stray dogs she had adopted.

(3) Caroline Sheridan Norton. The Dream and Other Poems. London: Henry Colburn, 1840. (821 N82d)

The Dream was the sixth book of poetry published by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton (1808-1877). A woman of high society, her life, especially during the time of the publication of The Dream, was fraught with public scandal. On the front fly-leaf of the Library’s copy, Norton has inscribed what appears to be an original, twenty-line poem, beginning, “The God that gave, reclaimed his gift; –.”

(4) Israel Zangwill. The Grey Wig: Stories and Novelettes. London: William Heinemann, 1903. (823 Z1gr)

Israel Zangwill (1864-1926) was a notable Jewish writer from England and an important member of the Zionist movement. Zangwill is most remembered today for his 1908 play The Melting Pot, which served to popularize the term and concept. Our copy of his earlier collection of short stories, The Grey Wig, features an inscription to “Mrs. Chaplin,” a relative of his wife, Edith Ayrton Zangwill. Edith Ayrton’s mother, Matilda Charlotte Chaplin Ayrton (1846-1883), was a member of the “Edinburgh Seven” – a group of women who fought unsuccessfully to earn medical degrees from Edinburgh University in the early 1870s.

(5) M.P. Shiel. The Yellow Danger. London: Grant Richards, 1900. (823 Sh59y 1900)

M.P. Shiel (1865-1947), the English popular adventure and science fiction novelist, first published The Yellow Danger in 1898. This xenophobic novel of racial conflict was apparently an influence on Sax Rohmer’s Fu Manchu character. The library’s copy is inscribed by Shiel on the title page. Shiel’s popularity has waned greatly since his death, but his post-apocalyptic novel The Purple Cloud (1901) was recently republished by the University of Nebraska Press in their “Bison Frontiers of Imagination” series.

(6) Four Grant Richards Items:

Grant Richards. Caviare. London: Grant Richards, 1912. (823 R392c)

Grant Richards. Valentine. London: Grant Richards, 1913. (823 R392v)

Grant Richards. Bittersweet. London: Grant Richards, 1915. (823 R392b)

William Watson. Lachrymae Musarum and Other Poems. London: Macmillan, 1892. (821 W33ℓ)

Grant Richards (1872-1948) was one of England’s most prominent publishers in the early 20th Century. As a publisher, he is perhaps most famous for publishing, after a decade-long delay, James Joyce’s first short story collection, Dubliners (1914). Richards was also a novelist. The library has three of his novels inscribed in a miniscule hand to journalist and bibliophile Holbrook Jackson (1874-1948). And the library also owns a book inscribed to Grant Richards: a slim hardbound volume of poetry by William Watson (1858-1935) that is inscribed to Richards from “his sincere friend.” If you are interested in Grant Richards’s writings or in his work as a publisher, the Rare Book & Manuscript Library holds a collection of his correspondence, literary manuscripts, and business papers. Additional collections of Grant Richards materials are housed at Georgetown University, the Library of Congress, the National Library of Ireland, and Princeton University.

(7) Edgar Jepson. The Passion for Romance. London: H. Henry & Co., 1896. (823 J46pa)

Edgar Jepson (1863-1938) inscribed this copy of The Passion for Romance to his sometime literary collaborator John Gawsworth (1912-1970), later known in his own right as a poet and a publisher. Gawsworth was also M.P. Shiel’s bibliographer and literary executor. In the inscription in the Library’s copy, Jepson provides some advice for Gawsworth: “Patience: and shuffle the cards.”

(8) Captain J.A. Kemble. Creeds: A World-Embracing Poem. [Calcutta, India: s.n., 1909?]. (821 K232c)

Not much is known about J.A. Keble, but this copy of his poem Creeds is an interesting artifact of Great Britain’s colonization of India. The poem is inscribed to one “General Edward Hastings Ripley” from Capt. Keble’s station in Darjeeling. A publisher’s advertisement affixed to the verso of the author’s portrait notes he is also the author of Darjeeling Ditties and Other Poems.

(9) Thom Gunn. The Garden of the Gods. Cambridge, Mass.: Pym-Randall Press, 1968. (821 G956ga)

Thom Gunn (1929-2004) was part of the British school of writers that produced Philip Larkin, Kingsley Amis, and Ted Hughes. Interestingly, he relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1954 and was present for the emergence of the Beat Movement there. This chapbook of his poem “The Garden of the Gods” is signed and numbered by the author.

(10) Thomas Adolphus Trollope. A Peep Behind the Scenes at Rome. London: Chatto and Windus, 1877. (823 T746p)

Unlike the other items discussed in the post, A Peep Behind the Scenes at Rome is not signed by its author, who in this case happens to be Thomas Adolphus Trollope (1810-1892). Thomas Adolphus Trollope was a noted travel writer and older brother to the Victorian novelist Anthony Trollope. What makes the copy noteworthy is Anthony Trollope’s armorial bookplate on the front paste-down. This copy was subsequently passed down to Anthony’s granddaughter, Muriel Trollope. The Rare Book & Manuscript Library holds a small collection of the letters, journals, unpublished literary works of Anthony Trollope and other members of the Trollope family, including some of Thomas Adolphus Trollope’s letters and journals. BF, AD

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“Endlesse fame shall crowne thy well-ment actions with applause”: An Olimpick Curiosity, 400 Years On

Michael Drayton, et al. Annalia Dubrensia: vpon the yearly celebration of Mr. Robert Dovers Olimpick Games vpon Cotswold-Hills. London: Robert Raworth, for Mathewe Walbancke [i.e. Printed for Dr. Thomas Dover], 1636 [i.e. 1720?]

While working on a project to create detailed catalog records for items of interesting provenance, I came across an 18th-century type-facsimile of a charming collection of poetry from 1636 called the Annalia Dubrensia (“Annals of Dover”), one of only two documented copies in this country. The poems are dedicated to Robert Dover (1582-1652) and were contributed by more than thirty poets, among whom are such luminaries as Ben Jonson, Thomas Randolph, Michael Drayton, and Thomas Heywood. The volume includes a humble response in verse by Dover himself. An attorney and former scholar at King’s College, Cambridge, Dover is most famous as the founder, or more likely the resuscitator, of the Cotswold Games, a two-day sporting festival held in a valley (sometimes called a “natural amphitheater”) in the Cotswold Hills near Chipping Camden in Gloucestershire, England, starting around 1612. This was only one of many such regular events which are documented from this period, but it became distinguished under the management of Dover, who saw the rise of Puritanism in England as standing in opposition to the freer and more playful spirit which seemed to be in the nature of the English people. Dover believed that physical strength gained through exercise was necessary for the defense of the realm, but he also wished to unite rich and poor in a sporting atmosphere. The games were quite popular and received the approval of King James I. Some scholars believe that Shakespeare (who may have known Dover) makes reference to them in The Merry Wives of Windsor.

The frontispiece illustration from the 1636 edition reprinted in our copy shows an assortment of the activities which went on during the games. At middle-ground in the center of this woodcut is a curious edifice known as Dover Castle, a portable wooden structure balanced on a single pedestal, from which a standard bearing the motto “Heigh for Cotswold!” was flown and cannon were fired during the events. Across the landscape, participants are depicted engaged in several of the events, including sword fighting, wrestling, leaping, coursing with hounds, quarterstaff, casting the hammer, and spear throwing. One man even stands on his head. In the upper left-hand corner of the woodcut, three women in ruffs and long dresses dance, accompanied by a piper.

The games were as famous for their accommodations and refreshments as for their activitie. Poet Nicholas Wallington writes in this work that “None ever hungry from these games come home, / or ere made plaint of viands, or of roome.” At the foot of the hill on which the castle stood (or teetered) are tents set up for competitors, in front of which a group of men are having a meal at a long table. From the style of the illustration, it is hard to tell whether this party are seating on a mat or other covering on the ground as if at a picnic, or if a hole was dug into the ground, at the edge of which they sat enjoying their meal. The square ornamental device at the middle-right may be one of the yellow “ribbands” which Dover famously awarded to all participants. In the midst of all of this revelry and sport rides Dover himself, whose importance is indicated by his size in relation to the other figures. He is elaborately dressed in a feathered hat, ruff, coat, and boots which were a gift from King James out of his personal wardrobe.

Dover’s games continued annually, with the support of the Royal Family, until it was suppressed during the English Civil War in 1642. After the Restoration of the Monarchy in 1660, the games were revived and continued on and off until 1852. In 1966, they returned as a regular event under the patronage of the Robert Dover’s Games Society, and are still enacted today in the same location as the original games, near what has come to be called Dover’s Hill, featuring such popular events as shin-kicking and tug-of-war.

The rediscovery of this work in the vault of the Rare Book & Manuscript Library is a timely one, considering the start of the 2012 Olympics in late July. In fact, Dover’s Cotswold Games themselves came to be known as “Olimpick” – a term which was the product of the age’s renewed interest in Classical mythology and culture. The British Olympic Association has acknowledged these games as the “first stirrings” of the British Olympic heritage. Furthermore, it seems that the first Cotswold Games celebrated under Dover’s administration were probably held in June, 1612, exactly 400 years ago. Sources say that the Games took place on the Thursday and Friday after Whitsunday (a traditional name for the festival of Pentecost), which is the seventh Sunday after Easter. This would place the date of the inaugural games on the 14th and 15th of June, 1612.

This circa 1720 edition of the Annalia Dubrensia is differentiated from the 1636 version by the addition of an anonymous poem and the inclusion of a note at the end of the dedicatory epistle on leaf A2 verso, stating that this new edition was undertaken because “Dr. Dover [i.e. John Dover, d. 1725] thought it his Duty to perpetuate the Memory of that Good Man his Grandfather.” An armorial bookplate, with the motto “Do ever good,” was pasted onto one of the fly-leaves, with the name of Dover’s father, John Dover of Norfolk, written in what may be a nineteenth-century hand. Below this is a coat-of-arms incorporating the above crest, drawn in pen and accompanied by notes in the same hand, indicating that “These Supporters and other Additions were granted to Robert Dover his Son the Institutor of the Cotswold Games, who died 1652.” It is believed that King James I himself may have been the grantor of these arms. A nineteenth- or early twentieth-century owner of this volume (perhaps Ernest E. Baker, F.S.A., whose bookplate appears on the front paste-down) pasted clippings and copied several quotations related to the games or the Annalia Dubrensia onto the rear fly-leaves. This copy was acquired by the Library in January of 1941. TB

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Distinctive Ownership Inscriptions in an Incunable (Incunabula Q. 473 M28p 1482)

Guiniano Maggio. De priscorum proprietate verborum. Venice : Octavianus Scotus, 3 June 1482.

While cataloging a copy of De priscorum proprietate verborum (“On the propriety of ancient words”) by the 15th-century Neopolitan grammarian Guiniano Maggio, I came across two contemporary or near-contemporary ownership inscriptions by one Ludovicus de Galliardis.

One inscription is on the first front fly-leaf recto and comprises the name “Galliardis”, embellished with swoops and curves of pen-work. A face is incorporated into the descender of the capital “G”, and through this clever addition, the initial letter is transformed into a large and ostentatious piece of head-gear, similar to those seen in late medieval panel and manuscript paintings. Another elaborate symbol follows, but I have been unable to determine what this signifies, if anything. It could be another sign of ownership, perhaps incorporating the letters “r” and “t” within a larger initial “I”, but it is hard to tell.

Galliardis made his mark again, this time on the last printed leaf in this volume (M5 recto). Here he chose the odd course of writing the Latin phrase “Ludovicus de Galliardis possidet istum librum” (“Louis de Galliardis owns this book”) in Greek characters. The writer did not mind that several of the Greek letters do not transliterate properly into the Roman alphabet. Instead, he chose letters that looked like their Roman counterparts. For instance, the letter “e” appears twice in this inscription and both times it is represented by the lower-case form of the letter “zeta”, which, of course, corresponds to the Roman “z”, not “e”. Obviously, this Galliardis was an artistically-inclined man who had a grasp on classical languages as well as a quaint sense of humor.

These characteristics may be accounted for if he is one and the same with an “egregius Ludovicus Galliardi, notarius” (“the distinguished Louis Galliardi, notary”), named as a citizen of the town of Annecy in the Haute-Savoie region in south-eastern France. This comes from an entry, dated 6 October 1538, in the minutes of Pierre Deserveta now in the Archives du Départment de la Haute-Savoie. This date fits with the type and style of the inscriptions found in the incunabulum. If indeed the owner of this volume was a notary, then this would explain the elaborate script and the knowledge of Latin, as well as at least some Greek. This also justifies the calligraphic inscription “Juniani Mai[i]” (“Guiniano Maggio”) on the upper wooden board, which has an elegant “J”.

Further documentary evidence points to the possible existence of a family of notaries by the name of Galliard or Galliardi in the area spanning several centuries. The same Pierre Deserveta, in a passage from his minutes dated 12 February 1557, says that one Marin Ruffi was taken into a two-year apprenticeship by Jacques Galliard, notary and citizen of Annecy, to be taught “l’art d’escripture”. Additionally, there was a Johannes or Jean/Jehan Galliardi, also a notary, who is named in two documents from Geneva (some 40 kilometers from Annecy), dated 1464 and 1473, respectively. A manuscript on parchment, dated 20 May 1709, documenting the donation of 10 écus by Jean Dupont to the chapel of Sainte-Marie-aux-neiges in the hamlet of Les Jeurs in exchange for an annual mass to be celebrated there, was drawn up and signed by “Petrus Georgius Galliard, notarius publicus” (“Pierre-Georges Galliard, notary public”) at his home in the town of Martigny-Bourg in the modern-day canton of Valais in Switzerland. His signature is elegant and flowing, reminiscent of those in the 1482 Guiniano Maggio, though indeed these are in the same style as was used by many notaries, secretaries, and other “professional writers” over the centuries.

Geneva and Martigny-Bourg are just over 100 kilometers apart, and so it seems that, over the course of around 250 years or more, there were at least four notaries (Jean/Jehan, Louis, Jacques, and Pierre-Georges) with the name of Galliard or Galliardi in the Haute-Savoie/Geneva/Valais area. How these men were related, if they were at all, is unknown and would take a great deal of investigation to determine.

We are seeking any information that might help to shed light on the Galliard family or on the significance of the mysterious flourish in the first inscription. If you have any suggestions please contact the Non Solus blog moderators or the Rare Book & Manuscript Library. TB

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Contemporary Line-Drawing and Couplet in an Incunable (Incunabula 475 Z42l 1490)

Wilhelmus Zenders de Wert. Lilium grammaticae. Cologne: Heinrich Quentell, 1490

While cataloging a quarto edition of the Lilium grammaticae of Wilhelmus Zenders de Wert, I ran across an interesting drawing on the title-page.  This quaint illustration in black ink shows a man in armor with a head of curly hair, clutching a small sword or dagger in his right hand and extending an unrolled scroll from his left.  The artist has even included what seems to be chain mail below the armor on the figure’s upper body.  While the proportions are far from realistic and the left hand seems to be in an uncomfortably awkward position, this is a fascinating instance of a drawing that makes reference to the work that it accompanies.

The text on the scroll is difficult to make out, but it seems to run thus:  “Eyn schirmer[?] by[n] ich gena[n]t, an dem Lilium grammatice mal[?] beka[n]t” (roughly “A swordsman am I called; in the Lilium grammatice [am I] well-versed”).  Although the word “schirmer” is only conjectured here, it would be in accordance with the presence of the sword.  Judging by the spelling in these verses, the drawing must be contemporary or near-contemporary with the printed text.  Perhaps it was drawn by a schoolboy seeking to alleviate his boredom during a lesson.  Taking this even further, perhaps he or someone he knew (his instructor?) had the surname Schirmer or Schyrmer and this drawing is a visual pun.  One can only guess, since the artist’s identity may never be uncovered.

Our copy is half-bound in modern vellum with decorative paper over paste-boards.  It was acquired from Stonehill Books in 1950.

We are seeking any additions or corrections to the text in the scroll or any thoughts about the illustration itself.  If you have any suggestions please contact the Non Solus blog moderators or the Rare Book & Manuscript Library. TB

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Filed under Incunabula, Inscriptions, Provenance, TB