Rochester Cathedral Rare Books

My name is Josie Caplehorne and I am currently working on a very exciting project in partnership with Rochester Cathedral to catalogue over 2000 of their rare books!

I have been a cataloguer since early 2013 when I began my role as a Metadata Assistant with the University of Kent.  After a short time I began to work with the Special Collections & Archives teams to catalogue undiscovered materials, all the while continuing to undertake my day-to-day duties as a member of a growing team.

Excited conversations started to take place in the office (around mid 2014), that the University of Kent would work in association with Rochester Cathedral.  This certainly caught my ear and I was very eager to be part  of this.  I had so far really enjoyed working with the university’s special collections, and was very excited about the opportunity to work with another rare, unique and culturally significant collection.  In early 2015 I applied for the role of Rochester Cathedral cataloguer and, as you’ve probably worked out, I got the job!

Another rare book cataloguer was also recruited along with me and the collection will take us approximately six months to catalogue, with the work being undertaken at the University of Kent’s Templeman Library.

Rochester Cathedral

The collection is a fascinating one, and with the oldest book believed to be dated from 1498, the books I am cataloguing are rich in the history of the Church, Diocese and it’s Bishops.

I am constantly fascinated by the journey the books themselves have taken through their long lifetimes, and with the presence of  bookplates, handwritten inscriptions and letters held within the pages for hundreds of years, I feel like history is literally in my hands.  I feel extremely fortunate to be involved in this work.

Once my colleague and I have finished the cataloguing, the collection will return to Rochester Cathedral Library.  The library itself is currently being renovated to resemble its original form, where the books will be housed on handcrafted replica medieval wooden shelving.  I am very much looking forward to visiting Rochester Cathedral in the future to see the books in a home that befits their history and beauty.

I look forward to telling you more about this collection as we uncover more of these fascinating books.

Some celebrations

It may actually be slightly after Easter, but we’re only now coming to the end of our Spring term and winding down for the spring break. That means that we’ve spent this week enjoying all kinds of events to celebrate the hard work of students and staff since the beginning of 2015.

Students from the 'Women on Stage' groupTo start with, on Tuesday this year’s student curated exhibition on Victorian and Edwardian Theatre was launched. This module has been running for 5 years, with each year bringing new and exciting developments, and an excellent exhibition as the final piece of work (and this year was no exception)! Throughout the term, second year students have been working with the Theatre Collections here at Kent, and digital collections available elsewhere, whilst learning about theatre between 1860-1910. For the final assessment, the students work in groups, picking a topic of their choice to explore and then present their findings as an exhibition, with an associated website.

Choices of topic have always been diverse, and this year was no exception! Starting with the experience of theatregoing in the Victorian period, the exhibition moves through a comparison of East and West End theatre, the role of women on and off the stage and, finally, the ways in which the Jewish community were portrayed and potrayed themselves in the theatre.

The exhibition curators, with tutors Helen Brooks and Jane Gallagher.

The exhibition curators, with tutors Helen Brooks and Jane Gallagher.

This year, we have teamed up with the Gulbenkian who are hosting the exhibition in their Crossover Gallery, where it will run until 3 May. Do pop in to have a look – it’s free and open during the Gulbenkian’s opening hours.

View of the exhibition launchTuesday turned out to be rather a busy day, since we were also hosting student book launches all day in the reading room. This was part of the third year Book Project module, in which students create their own, original piece of writing an publish it as a physical item. The launch event is a chance for the students to read sections from their work (in front of a supportive audience) and to sell copies to guests. We’re currently in the process of ensuring that we have copies of all of these works in Special Collections, to complement the twentieth century small print press materials in the Modern First Editions Collection.

20150407_171146A huge congratulations to all of the students involved in both of these exciting pieces of work: we hope you enjoyed being a part of it!

And finally, talking of celebration, on Wednesday we got the chance to thank our hard working team of core volunteers with a trip to Canterbury 20150408_151203Cathedral Library, hosted by Cathedral Librarian Karen Brayshaw. Those who came along got to see rare and valuable books from the earliest years of the printing press through to the 19 century, including the Nuremberg Chronicle (1493) and a Bible translated into a Native American language. Alongside this, of course, we got to enjoy the ambiance of the historical library and its beautiful books – and several people enjoyed the smell of rare books!

So that’s it for another term – although we will, of course, be on hand throughout the spring vacation for all of your research needs. As ever, the arrival of the sunshine provokes a mass exodus to studying out in the sunshine, and the end of term leads to a pervading atmosphere of calm and wellbeing through the Library. I hope that you enjoy the break, if you get one: we’ll certainly be making the most of the hiaitus, prior to the start of our Big Underground Move of all of our collections now scheduled to take place from 15 June.

KEM Lives On at the British Cartoon Archive

DSC_0155

Adolf and His Donkey Benito – original artwork

The British Cartoon Archive holds many unique collections from celebrated cartoonists, and one fascinating example is the KEM archive. Many of you will be familiar with the image of Adolf and his Donkey Benito, but just who was KEM?

KEM was born Kimon Evan Marengo in Egypt, the son of a Greek merchant, and grew up in the Greek community of Alexandria, coming to England to pursue studies at Oxford. His studies were interrupted in 1939 by the onset of the Second World War. By this point he had already been published in many international newspapers, including the New York Times and the Daily Telegraph, and he joined the Ministry of Defence where he worked on propaganda for the Middle East. He also spent sometime working as a war correspondent.

DSC_0169

Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill

As a product of a Middle Eastern community, his work is often quite different to that of other cartoonists of the time. He did plenty of traditional war propaganda, cartoons involving Hitler, Mussolini and Churchill, but some of the treasures in the KEM collection come in the form of his Middle Eastern propaganda. These brightly coloured pamphlets are a unique look at propaganda during the Second World War.

DSC_0135

…and Hitler in some discomfort

DSC_0134

Mussolini…

One of my earliest discoveries working with the KEM archive was that of a double sided pin cushion, complete with needles and pins still inserted, of Mussolini and Hitler. Such a small item says a huge amount about attitudes towards the enemy, and whilst it certainly has a comical element, the purpose is a serious one: keeping up morale by making two dangerous men into figures of comedy and ridicule.

DSC_0152

Beautiful artwork with a Middle Eastern flavour

Also contained in the archive is a near complete collection of all of KEM’s Christmas cards, and many of the printers blocks used to create them. These Christmas cards would hardly be considered to display traditional seasonal imagery as they are heavily politicised, and those that date from the Second World War also work as propaganda, ridiculing the enemy.

DSC_0151

Original artwork for Southern Railways

DSC_0166

Snobby the Dachshund’s Adventure at Sea

A large section of the collection is taken up by original artworks, for his Christmas cards, his political cartoons, and even for a couple of posters advertising the Southern Railway. All the cartoon artwork was given an accession number by KEM and carefully recorded in the ‘Rochester Books’ – giving exact dates for when he produced the artwork, rather than the dates that they first appeared in print.

One of my favourite selections of KEM’s work however is his cartoon strips of Snobby the dachshund, who can be seen here rescuing his owner at sea by turning himself into a mast for their raft.

Explore the KEM archive, and many more, on the British Cartoon Archive website.

Rachel.

The urban phone box

It’s not uncommon that we’ve used this blog to look at how little things have changed over the past century – and sometimes more! Charlotte Daynton’s work looking at the Muggeridge Collections drew this out in terms of everyday objects she revealed in uncatalogued boxes of material, while a long time ago (or so it seems!), I was struck by the similarities between politics of the early twentieth century and that of today. Perhaps it’s just our nature to try to find links with the past (thought I wouldn’t necessarily argue that this happens more today than in previous generations) – it certainly reminds you that even if something is now in an archive, once it was a ‘working’ item, and meant a lot to its owner.

Historian Hugh Gault, currently working on the second part of his biography of Sir Howard Kingsley Wood, has drawn my attention to some interesting items in the press cuttings through which he’s been wading as part of his research. These particular cuttings are pasted into enormous scrapbooks which take at least two people to lift: quite why Wood had these created, or how he used them, remains a mystery. But what could be more relevant today than the ideas of preserving natural beauty spots, political debates in the media and the questionable ‘issue’ of ladette culture?

Heading of The Times newspaper articlesFew people can have failed to notice that we’re just a few weeks away from the next General Election – and it would have been hard to miss the issue of who should be included in the next round of televised political debates. While this has caused quite a stir in 2015, in 1933 there were claims that ‘independent’ views were being deliberately censored in upcoming wireless debates on the BBC. Three politicians (none particularly unknown to the Establishment), Winston Churchill, David Lloyd George and Austen Chamberlain, wrote to the Corporation complaining that, despite the assurance that ‘minorities should have their place’ in the radio debates, those not nominated by Party Whips were effectively being discriminated against (‘Politics on the Wireless’, The Times, 11 September 1933). J. H. Whitely, chairman of the BBC, responded by arguing that space necessitated a careful selection of speakers. He added that, while the Corporation had no desire to ‘curtail freedom of speech…it cannot guaranteed that…room will be found for the expression of all shades of opinion’.

The complainants found this response unsatisfactory, responding via a letter subsequently published in The Times, that ‘a precedent is established’ which they considered would result in the ‘effective exclusion from the broadcast’ of anyone holding ‘non-official’ opinions.

Small KW19-7-11cIn the same year, a different branch of the BBC, under the guidance of Wood as Post Master General, announced its ‘biggest drive against radio pirates’ (‘Biggest Drive Against Radio Pirates, Daily Mail, 25 September 1933). This would be undertaken by means of ‘new detector apparatus’ installed in detector vans and set on a pilot scheme from 1 October. The key intention of these new measures was to catch the ‘pirates’ who were listening to programmes without paying their license fee of 10 shillings a year. Wood himself championed these measures, according to an article in the Daily Mail, ‘realising that the autumn drive by the B.B.C. for better and brighter radio entertainments will attract thousands of new listeners…’

The scale of this drive was expected to be monumental, beginning on the north-east coast, before spreading across the country. The article adds that, in the past, some had considered the detector vans ‘a gigantic bluff’, but quotes an unnamed source assuring readers that  they should not ‘call’ the supposed bluff:

This so-called bluff will be an even more dangerous one to “call” than formerly, as engineers have for the past year been carrying out exhaustive experiments with new apparatus.

Wood visiting the Hull Telephone Exchange in 1935

Wood visiting the Hull Telephone Exchange in 1935

Advances in new technology were, of course, alarming to some, and nothing was so noticable as the impact on ‘England’s Beauties’ (‘Preserving England’s Beauties’, Sheffield Daily Telegraph, 6 September 1933). Wood felt a duty to preserve beauty spots such as the Peak District and the Derbyshire Dales, issuing instructions to his engineers putting up overhead wires to expand the reach of telephone systems advising them to ‘give careful consideration’ to any proposed lines which might ‘spoil a view’. Indeed, concerns had also been raised about the new telephone boxes: ‘originally designed for urban [settings], these boxes are not always appropriate in a village’. The bright red of the boxes was felt, by some, to be ‘out of harmony’ with its surroundings, and plans to paint some ‘a dull green colour’ had been put forward. It’s strange to think that the red phone box is often only seen in rural areas, now – if at all!

Agnes Wood, in 1923. Agnes was an independent woman prior to her marriage, and wrote articles to support her husband's cause to new, female voters in 1918.

Agnes Wood, in 1923. Agnes was an independent woman prior to her marriage, and wrote articles to support her husband’s cause to new, female voters in 1918.

Finally, a perennial ‘problem’ has been the perception of the younger generation. In 1933, Wood was in his fifties, and the younger generation now coming to adulthood would have known little of the First World War through which their parents had lived. According to the journal ‘Queen’, there was disapproval of ‘modern girls’, supposedly ‘chiefly employed in drinking cocktails in nightclubs’ (untitled article, Queen, 20 December 1933). Given the changes in the legal and social status of women, particularly after women (over 30) were given the right to vote in 1917 and  the vital role women played in the War, perhaps these ’employments’ were considered detrimental to this new-found status. However, Wood was reported as their ‘doughty champion’, saying:

The young woman of to-day…is no longer a clinging vine or the mental inferior and the dutiful handmaid of mere man. But she is self-reliant, tenacious and courageous, and is taking her part more than ever in the world’s work. I do not doubt that the younger generation will provide men and women able to rise to any emergency…. It is quite possible that they will do even better than their parents.

This generation of women would have been the first to grow up with the right to vote from the age of 21 (from 1928), unlike their predecessors who had fought for enfranchisement. It’s rather tragic to think that, six years after Wood’s ‘unquestionably true’ statement, this generation was indeed called upon to rise to an emergency, as their parents had been forced to, with the outbreak of another World War.

The Kingsley Wood Collection consists of 25 scrapbooks of press cuttings, four albums of photographs and a number of loose typescript materials. The first part of Hugh Gault’s biography of Sir Howard Kingsley Wood, ‘Making the Heavens Hum: Kingsley Wood and the Art of the Possible’ is available now; the second part is due to be published in 2017.

Going on a Summer Holiday? 10: long distance shopping

This series is now one of the longest serving on our blog; I wrote several posts ago that I hoped it would not take as long to reveal as the journey which William Harris undertook around Europe between 1821-1823. Well, I have a feeling that I may have already broken that record, but at least it’s given us all a sense of the length of time which this journey from Dover, through France to Italy and then to Sicily actually took!

William continued to number his letters for his father.

William continued to number his letters for his father.

In the last post, William had just scaled Mount Etna with his band of architect friends, and found the undertaking rather easier than he had expected. By August 1822, however, William was lodging in the Franciscan convent of S. Vito, near ‘Grigenti’, alone. From my initial reading of this letter, I got the impression that William had been ill, but a second look shows little evidence of this. The group had intended to stay at a monastery before, at Taormina, but their plans were foiled when they discovered it to be full of priests awaiting the election of the new superior. So the fact that he was alone at a convent could simply be that it was a suitable location for his exploration of the ‘pure’ architectural remains of Sicily. In any case, perhaps he would not like to tell his father, so far away, that he was ill. After all, William Harris Snr., back in Norton Street, London, would wait months to receive the letter and then be unable to do much to help his son.

Of the remaining members of William Junr.’s group (two had left before the ascent of Etna), one certainly was ill: Brooks (who I described in an earlier post as the comedy partner) seems to have had bad sea sickness after the crossing from Catania. Thomas Angell and Mr. Atkinson were, however, made of sterner stuff, and had set out to explore Malta. William’s delight in the architectural remains in Sicily had been his reason, he told his father, for remaining alone. In any case, the friends were expecting to reunite, William thought, around the 21 August.

I suppose one of the other reasons why I suspect that all may not have been well with William is the brevity and directness of this letter. In the past, he had written very eloquent descriptions of places he and his friends had visited, and offered opinions on local habits. This letter, however, offers no description of his surroundings, nor of any of the ‘architectural’ (probably archaeological) sites which he visited.

William sent his letters home via his friend Mr Hunter, who lived in Paris.

William sent his letters home via his friend Mr Hunter, who lived in Paris.

Instead, the letter focuses on news from home, in London, which he had left more than a year earlier. We have already established that William’s mother did not enjoy the best of health; William considered that his parents’ removal to Peckham (at this time outside of London) would offer ‘cheerful society and a change of air’ which he was sure would be ‘very beneficial’. As well as his parents, William had a sister, Margaret, married to another architect, Thomas. In an earlier missive, he had learned that, for reasons of economy, they were removing from their home in order to let it. Because of this, he opens his letter having enclosed a letter for them, too, since he did not know where they could be reached. Again, the realities of the distance between William and his family, in terms of both time and miles, must have been playing on his mind. It had been 16 weeks prior to his sister’s letter since he had heard any news from ‘Old England’, having had no reply from his previous letter (no. 8, from Rome). Of course, he writes, his father may have replied to Naples, expecting William to be there, but the change in his plans meant at least a two month stay at Gingenti, rather than returning straight to Italy.

In spite of his desire to hear from home, time was obviously pressing: “As post time draws nigh I will now proceed to business and fill up the leisure if any remains afterwards”. This business consisted of a shopping list of materials and supplies, which William asked to be sent out to Sicily. Including pencils (from Brockman and Langdon’s, Bloomsbury), paper and watercolours, William explained that such drawing materials were ‘not to be obtained of even tolerable quality on the Continent’. Aside from these artists’ supplies for his sketching of classical ruins, William also requested that his father send out ‘a 2 feet parallel rule’, recalling that he had left it ‘either in my library table…or in the lower closet of the study’, paper ‘for memorandas’ and, from his brother-in-law Thomas, ‘tracings of the Temple of Theseus at Athens’. Finally, he asked for ‘4 day shirts…as those I have with me are nearly worn out.’ Unlike his friend Brooks, who had insisted on trunks of the latest fashions being sent out to Rome, William seems to largely have made do with that he had taken with him. Architecture and adventure seem to have been a much higher priority, for him, than clothes and supplies!

William's shopping list.

William’s shopping list.

This is the first instance of William requesting a significant amount of material from home, although he had previously mentioned in passing the cost of his travels, particularly his own frugality when living off his father’s allowance. Evidently, William had been able to spend some free time looking at his father’s responses, as he adds:

I now subjoin a list of the bills I have drawn on different bankers as they do not appear to agree with the memoranda you forwarded me

Lady Elizabeth Foster (1787)

Lady Elizabeth Foster (1787), Duchess of Devonshire 1809-1824

Although far from home, William clearly moved in circles of society which spanned the whole of Europe. Having previously visited contacts professional and personal, he asks for a letter of introduction from a mutual friend for the Duchess of Devonshire who was to stay in Rome over the winter. This was Elizabeth Christina Cavendish, who had married the fifth Duke of Devonshire, William Cavendish, in 1809 and retained the title of Duchess after the succession of his son to the title in 1811. The fifth Duke had been married to the celebrated Georgiana, but Elizabeth had lived with them since 1782, having separated from her husband Lord Foster, mystifying polite society. Elizabeth certainly had two children by the Duke prior to their marriage, and some whispered that she was lover to both the Duke and Duchess. In any case, she developed a love for the continent, even accompanying Georgiana during her exile designed to hide her illegitimate pregnancy from polite society. Following the death of the Duke, Elizabeth moved to Italy and developed an interest in antiquities, even financing the excavation of the Forum for eleven years. It is likely that this interest in classical architecture, and the circles in which she moved, were the main draw for William’s hopes of an introduction, but there must still have been a touch of scandal around this 65-year old widow as well.

The tone of this letter seems, to me, to be one of stocking up, preparing to start work again after a period of inactivity. Rather than tell his father about his exploits, as in previous letters, William is anxious to make sure he has the necessary materials to continue his adventure, but is also eager to hear more from home. He mentions ‘Jane’ once more, whom his father had removed from his house in the previous autumn, noting that he had given her the key to the drawer in which his shirts were kept. Perhaps the answer to this mystery is than Jane was a servant, presumably a long term and respected servant, since William had been sorry to hear of her departure. Thinking of home also led William to think of the horses: a favoured mount, Dick, had undergone an operation in the summer of 1821. ‘Pray let me know if Dick has recovered his lameness’, William writes in his closing paragraph.

William had plenty of recourse to bankers during his trip - including to collect his post!

William had plenty of recourse to bankers during his trip – including to collect his post!

In spite of the time it took to journey around Europe in the early 19th century, it was evidently not an insurmountable exercise – at least not for those with the funds to support it. Postage, bankers and even letters of introduction to the seemingly web-like networks of society brought together like-minded individuals right across the Continent. But even with those modern developments, the distance from home could indeed feel great, and leave the intrepid traveller in danger of isolation. Yet William’s thirst for adventure took him still further in his discoveries – right into one of the biggest antiquarian scandals since the exploits of Thomas Bruce, seventh Earl of Elgin, at the beginning of the century.

A happy 2015 to you all; perhaps this year will see the closure of William Harris’ adventure!