Canterbury at War…starring Hewlett Johnson

'Canterbury at War' flyerLast time, I announced the exciting news that the Templeman Library Gallery will be hosting an exhibition of materials from the Hewlett Johnson Papers, called ‘Canterbury at War: the Red Dean’s Life and Times, 1939-1945‘. The exhibition will open at 5.30pm on 22nd November and at 6pm John Butler, author of ‘The Red Dean: The Public and Private Faces of Hewlett Johnson‘, will talk about his experiences of mining the archive and show some of the gems which he found along the way. Everyone is welcome, and we would be delighted for you all to experience some of our exciting collections.

Well, with that advertisement completed, I can give you an update about all of the work we’ve been doing to prepare for this exhibition since last week. As you will have noticed (and our team cannot escape it), it’s only one week until we unveil our first major exhibition using Special Collections material for two years. So, with a little panicking and nervousness along the way, we are now in the final stages of putting the exhibition together.

The first thing which we had to do was put together a narrative. This was ably provided by Steve Holland, Head of Special Collections, after close reading of John’s book. The exhibition will explore Canterbury’s experience of the second world war through the eyes of the Johnsons, tracing the isolation and alienation which Hewlett experienced during the late 1930s (including the infamous Canons’ letter to The Times), through the Canterbury Blitz of May 30th-June 1st 1942, encountering more cheerful events such as the enthronement of William Temple as Archbishop in April 1942 and concluding with VE day in 1945, which Hewlett spent in Russia.

Canons' letter to the Times, 1940

Canons' letter to the Times, 1940

Armed with Steve’s captions which pick out key events during this period, Chris, Hazel and I have trawled the archive to find relevant sources which can illustrate the Johnsons’ family and public life throughout this time. The first and most obvious sources were the wartime letters which Hewlett and his wife Nowell sent to each other. During the war, Nowell and their daughter Kezia were evacuated to Harlech; their second daughter, Keren, was born in Harlech in 1942. They usually wrote at least once a day, often more, and their letters vividly illustrate the challenges not only of living in Canterbury during this time but also of being so far apart. Their correspondence was especially heartfelt at Christmas, with Hewlett writing to Nowell ‘Kez will be playing with her doll and cradle now and tomorrow will be asking for more Christmas!’ on Christmas day of 1941. A year later, on 26th December 1942, Hewlett wrote ‘Christmas Day is over and I’m glad’.The wartime correspondence also gives some excellent descriptions of the bombing raid of May/June 1942, life in the bombed out Deanery and the food parcels which were sent from Wales to Kent and vice versa.

Removal of the stained glass from Canterbury Cathedral

Removal of the stained glass from Canterbury Cathedral, 1939

With Chris exploring and transcribing the wartime letters (Hewlett’s handwriting can be challenging at the best of times), we have also been looking at visual statements of Canterbury during the war and its aftermath. Perhaps most dramatic are the images of preparation for war in 1939, when all of the stained glass was removed from the Cathedral windows and tonnes of soil spread over the nave and quire to protect those sheltering in the crypt from bombing raids. It’s also staggering to see the extent of the damage which Canterbury sustained during the ‘Canterbury Blitz’: one image shows the entire High Street in ruins, with the only feature still recognisable today being St George’s clock tower.

Now that we have all of our materials selected, the major task is to digitise, frame and prepare for exhibiting. We hope to put larger copies of the photographs on the walls, and to frame some of the cuttings, correspondence and other materials. We have 8 cases to play with, and are now in the final stages of confirming the layout.

All in all, there’s still lots to get done, but everyone I’ve mentioned it to (an I’ve mentioned it quite a lot, believe me) has been intrigued – none more so than those standing by the printer when the photographs are printed out! So we look forward to showing off one of our most personal and important collections and hope that you will all enjoy exploring the archive as much as we have enjoyed putting this exhibition together.

I wonder how we will cope once it’s all over….

Do you know KJV?

Or perhaps it should be: do you know the KJV?

There’s been a lot of talk, in certain circles, about KJV this year; not least down at Canterbury Cathedral Library, where the acronym had me thoroughly confused for a while. KJV is one of the best known items in the world, and has had its followers for 400 years. Still the topic of debate, praise and criticism, it’s provided the English language with many of its well-known phrases and sayings, in some cases even resurrecting words which had gone out of use at the time it was first printed.

Have you guessed what it is yet? Yes, that’s right: the King James Version (or Authorised Version) of the Bible.

The KJV translation was begun in 1604, by six committees of academics and clergymen, each taking a section of the vast text. It took seven years to complete and was printed by the King’s printer, Robert Barker, in 1611. This was only the third authorised English translation of the Bible; the first was the Great Bible of 1539 and the second the Bishops Bible, thirty years later. Translations of the Bible into English had taken place as early as the late 14th century, with the work of John Wycliffe and his followers, whose Bible was translated from the 4th century Latin Vulgate version of St. Jerome. William Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament, the first printed in English, was taken from the Hebrew and Greek texts. Both Tyndale and Wycliffe were executed for their roles in translating the Bible and copies of their banned translations were burned.

Title page to the King James Bible, 1611

Title page to the King James Bible, 1611

It was only with the Reformation and the creation of the Church of England under Henry VIII that English translations of the Bible were permitted into the mainstream. The KJV is the descendant of various translations, from Wycliffe through to the Bishop’s Bible, but none of its predecessors is so commonly used and clearly valued as much as the KJV itself. Phrases such as ‘Let there be light’ (Gen. 1:3) and ‘In the beginning was the word’ (John 1:1) have become an instantly recognisable part of the Christian Bible, and of the English language. Some have suggested that the KJV is more important than Shakespeare in terms of the development of the English language.

So why not join the celebrations to mark the 400th anniversary of this remarkable book? We have a copy of the first quarto edition (1612) on display in the library foyer. The Cathedral Library‘s exhibition The Bible in English is open all next week, from 2-4pm, where you can learn more and see the original editions of the KJV, Bishop’s Bible, Coverdale and many more. Even writing a blog is educational: in the process I’ve discovered the website of the King James Bible Trust, which includes digitised images of the whole 1611 edition of KJV.

Who’d have thought there could be so much significance and interest in three letters?

Cathedral Open Evening

As some of you may know, on Wednesday 5th October Canterbury Cathedral will hold its annual Open Evening, including displays, a concert and an opportunity to learn about the historic building and its traditions.

One of the most important aspects of the Cathedral’s history can be found in its Library, which will be open to the public for a rare glimpse of the collections and the newly restored Howley Library. The communities of the University of Kent and the Cathedral are closely linked, especially through their emphasis on and exchange of learning. Special Collections and the Cathedral Library maintain a close relationship: I’ve been lucky enough to spend time in the Howley Library and would strongly recommend a visit.

Rebuilt in 1655, the Library has recently been restored to its 19th century decor. Some of the rare, historic and beautiful items which the Cathedral Library holds will be on display, so don’t miss this opportunity to have a look behind the ordinarily closed door of the Howley Library and to explore the trasures of its magnificent collections.

Information about the Open Evening and timings can be found online.

 

One Day Conference

Bible in EnglishAs part of the ongoing partnership between Canterbury Cathedral Library and the University of Kent, I’m pleased to be able to publicise this one day conference being run by the University’s Centre for Medieval and Early Modern Studies (MEMS). The day’s sessions will take place in the Cathedral Lodge and there will also be opportunities to view some of the Cathedral Library’s extensive selection of bibles and other materials.

For more information or to book a place on this exciting conference, please contact Claire Taylor at MEMS.

Ron Baldwin

I thought I would share with you another find which came out of the Baldwin archive last week. It was a chance find; I spotted it as I was flicking through one of the many black folders to list the types of materials enclosed. Having said that, I think it’s one of the most important, since most of us working on this collection had no idea what the collection’s tireless collater actually looked like. So, here he is: Mr Ronald Baldwin.

Ron Baldwin in 1986

Ron Baldwin in 1986

Mr Baldwin was a keen local historian and produced The Gillingham Chronicles : a history of Gillingham, Kent as well as teaching on the subject. He was also a keen collector of ephemera, a Bible Christian (a sect which sprang out of Methodism) and his interests ranged across many disciplines from brickmaking to elections, and trains to trade tokens. In starting the work on the remaining uncatalogued material in the Baldwin collection, we have only begun to get a sense of the sheer scope of his interests.

What was really nice about finding this photograph was to finally put some kind of identity to the collection. The sheer range of collections which we hold makes it difficult to keep track of the individuals who dedicated significant time, often a lifetime, to their collecting. Some, for example the Melville family or Hewlett Johnson, were larger than life and more than a trace of their exceptional personalities has come across in the work which they have left us. Others, like Jack Johns, Jack Reading and Colin Rayner, are almost anonymous in their own collections now that the majority of the staff who knew them have moved on. Of course, those collections are the ones which were collected for their own sake, rather than about a particular individual. It’s interesting to reflect, when it comes to our work with archives, about the reasons behind its creation and the uses to which the collator wanted their collection to be put.

Once the  collection is passed to any institution, of course, the needs and abilities of that institution play a role in the archive’s evolution and uses. UoK’s Special Collections is no different to other museums and archives in this; when we accept collections, we do so on the understanding that the materials will be used in order to make an important contribution to the learning and teaching at the University, and will benefit the wider community. In this way, I think that Mr Baldwin’s collection may be one of the most difficult to ‘pigeonhole’: his collection is so varied that I hope the materials will, when available, be of use to many people both inside and outside the University.

So, the work we’re currently carrying out on Mr Baldwin’s collection is focussed on the materials which weren’t put straight into Special Collections’ Local History section. This section consists of around 800 ringbinders full of notes, cuttings, photographs and ephemera, over 4000 published volumes and some postcard albums. There are also some more indentures and legal documents, later than those which caused a lot of excitement when they were discovered to date from 1424 up to the reign of Charles II. The current process is to pull the ringbinders out of their (slightly disordered) storage space in order to try to recreate Mr Baldwin’s sequence. Due to constraints on time and space, we’re pulling out small groups of folders on related disciplines, boxing them up and listing them. Once our lists are complete, we’ll be able to pull together the themes and subjects to create manageable sections to continue our work. It’s only a preliminary stage and it will probably be some time before work on the archive is completed, but the sheer amount of information which Mr Baldwin collated means that this will be a worthwhile task.

So while we see countless photographs of countless people in our day to day lives, it’s nice to have Mr Baldwin looking on over ‘Baldwin Corner’ as it fills up with organised boxes containing just a fraction of his life’s impressive collection.