603. A Vale Press Collector: Constance Astley (3)

Constance and Hubert Astley made long voyages to Tenerife, Egypt and America. A family house was located on Lake Como in Italy where they sometimes stayed for months; there were yacht parties, dinners and guests at Benham Valence. But when did she buy her books? How much time did she spend on collecting them? From whom did she acquire the luxury editions of private presses?

About her activities as a collector, we know nothing at all - we only know the 1928 interim result thanks to the catalogue of her collection and the state of her complete collection thanks to the sale catalogue issued after her death by Sawyer in 1941. Perhaps a comparison between the two could provide additional information?

Visitors Book The Cotswold Gallery
[Private collection]

Thanks to the guest book of a London art gallery, the Cotswold Gallery (private collection), we know that her husband Hubert D. Astley visited that gallery on 23 March 1922 (Ricketts signed the guestbook for the first time in April of that year). Was Constance Astley visiting antiquarian booksellers elsewhere in London while he devoted himself to art?

Visitors Book The Cotswold Gallery
[Private collection]

The Ashendene Press

The Ashendene Press, founded by St John Hornby (1867-1946), was still active when Astley published her catalogue in 1928. By then, thirty-six (out of a total of forty) books had already been published. Astley did not have them all. 

In fact, she owned twenty-three editions and of half of them she owned multiple copies. Of Tutte le opera di Dante Alighieri Fiorentino, for example, she owned three copies; one of six on vellum and two of 106 on paper.

The oldest edition she owned of this press was published in 1899 - she apparently did not find the previous nine editions interesting.

Of the thirty-five copies in her collection, nineteen were on vellum.

The Daniel Press

The Daniel Press founded by Charles Henry Olive Daniel (1836–1919) and members of his family issued fifty-eight books of which Constance Astley owned thirteen books in 1928, including the very rare edition of The Garland of Rachel (1881) of which thirty-six copies were printed.

The Doves Press

T.J. Cobden-Sanderson and Emery Walker's Doves Press issued forty books between 1900 and 1916. Astley owned forty-one books, including one ephemeral publication (Ecce Mundus). 

Astley's complete Doves Press collection totalled ninety-one copies; she often owned three copies of a book, sometimes two of which were on vellum. In her bookcase were copies of thirty-four Doves Press editions printed on vellum, with a second copy on vellum of nine of these. That brings the number of vellum copies, astoundingly, to forty-three. Many of these were bound by The Doves Bindery. One copy was bound by Edith J. Gedye (Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson [as in the 1928 catalogue the name was often misspelt Gedge]). Gedye sometimes identified herself as a 'successor to Cobden Sanderson'. As a bookbinder, she started at Sangorski & Sutcliffe, and later settled in Bristol.

Gustave Flaubert, La légende de Saint Julien l'Hospitalier
(Eragny Press, 1900). Copy bound by Sarah T. Prideaux (detail)
[Collection British Library, London]

The Eragny Press

Lucien and Esther Pissarro's Eragny Press published thirty-two books. Astley owned twenty-nine of them. The two Eragny books commissioned by French bibliophile societies were missing: the Nerval edition for the Société des Cent Bibliophiles and the Moselly book ordered by Le Livre Contemporain - obviously these were difficult to obtain in Great Britain. Also missing was the last book issued by Pissarro: Michael Field's Whym Chow (1914) of which a mere twenty-seven copies were printed. 

Many of these books were present in multiple copies. The entire collection consisted of sixty-one copies.

For example, the three-volume Flaubert series (1900-01) was present in triplicate, with one set bound by Sarah T. Prideaux. At publication, Prideaux bound two such sets whose patrons are unknown. One of these sets is in the British Library (illustrated in Marianne Tidcombe's Women Bookbinders 1880-1920, 1996, p. 108; for colour illustrations see the BL Database of Bookbindings).

Astley acquired ten books of the press that were printed on vellum - of two of these books she owned two vellum copies.

Essex House Press

The Essex House Press was founded by C.R. Ashbee in 1898. The presses were sold in 1910 when ninety books had been published. Constance Astley owned fifty-two books of this private press. 

Again, Astley collected multiple copies. Her Essex House row of books numbered sixty-three copies. Among them were eighteen books printed on vellum, but that is not exceptional in this case - twelve of these were part of editions of which the press only issued copies on vellum.

The Kelmscott Press

William Morris published fifty-three books at The Kelmscott Press, if we include the few that were finally issued after he died. Astley owned only twenty-four of them, but her collection included a copy of the Chaucer edition, the largest undertaking of the press.

Duplicates included, there were twenty-six Kelmscott Press editions, of which there were four copies printed on vellum. Astley owned both a vellum and a paper copy of the Chaucer edition and of Rossetti's Hand and Soul, a vellum copy of Morris's Of the Friendship of Amis and Amile, and a vellum copy of The Tale of King Florus and the Fair Jehane. 

The Vale Press collection of Constance Astley will be the subject of next week's blog.

602. A Vale Press Collector: Constance Astley (2)

Following Constance Astley's death in 1940 - with her personal property valued at £58,151 - several auctions of household goods and books took place, including a two-day auction organised in 1944 by Russell, Baldwin and Bright held at Brinsop Court.

'Brinsop Court Sale'
(Kingston Times, 25 November 1944)

English and Italian furniture and Chinese pottery changed hands, but so did 'books', according to the Kingston Times (25 November 1944):

Two hundred lots of books on offer made considerably more than current list prices, top price being £40 for a history of Oriental carpets.

In 1947, her son, Colonel P.R. Astley, sold more antiques, including silver, glass, pictures and prints. (Kingston Times, 8 February 1947).

However, her collection of special editions of English private presses had left Brinsop Court earlier, shortly after her death. The entire collection was sold, without a preface about the collector, anonymously, in London by the antiquarian firm of Chas. J. Sawyer Ltd. in Grafton Street. The catalogue, dated 1941 and numbered 166, was entitled "The Book Beautiful" and the subtitle described the collection roughly as:

PRIVATE PRESS BOOKS

(Many Printed on Vellum)

Richly Decorated Bindings

Modern Illuminated Manuscripts

forming a part of a 

CHOICE LIBRARY JUST PURCHASED

interspersed with

Books of General Interest

eminently suitable for

Christmas and New Year Gifts

Constance Astley apparently never had a bookplate made - I have not found one example - not for her private press books or her ornithological books, nor for the general library at Brinsop Court. (An earlier occupant, Dearman Edwards, did paste one in his books.) Curiously, her young son from her first marriage apparently did have a bookplate. When he was ten years old, in 1901, they lived at Benham Valence Manor, and from his boarding school he wrote to her: 'Mr. Hansel the master in this form has got a collection of book plates, and wants me to give him one of mine, so please send me one for him when you get back to Benham' (Richard Vincent Sutton, A Record of his Life together with Extracts from his Private Papers, 1922, p. 11). This son later shared her habit or reading. During the Great War she sent him books; on 6 September 1918, he received The Mikado's Empire and a novel, and read the former 'which is interesting'. (p. 181, 184).

The absence of a bookplate makes it almost impossible to find out where her books went after her death and Sawyer's sale, with a few exceptions. (More on that in a following blog).

Catalogue of the Library
of Constance Astley
at Brinsop Court,
Herefordshire (1928)

Her own catalogue of the collection, Catalogue of the Library of Constance Astley at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire (1928) contains a preface in which Constance Astley says something but disappointingly little about her passion. For instance, we do not know when she started her collection of modern private press books.

The correct function of a preface of this sort is, I believe, by hints and suggestions to act as a guide to beginners in the fascinating pursuit of book collecting; but alas! I am incapable of this, as I have followed no system and had no arrière pensée as to future values - but merely followed my own personal likings. Many of the book bought in my youth, and even at a later date, are worthless from a monetary point of view. I well remember my excitement when for the first time in my life a present of money (£1, to be exact) was given to me, and how it was promptly spent on books! and ever since that day any available cash has always gone the same way.

Catalogue of the Library of Constance Astley
at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire (1928)

She describes how collecting books for their content slowly turned into collecting books for their outward form.

From my childhood onwards I have been an omnivorous reader (I remember on one occasion getting through three books - not novels - on a journey to Italy), and I began by buying just the  books I wanted to read, with complete indifference as to print and format. Then I began to think of nice bindings to make my book-shelves decorative - after which I developed a taste for books well produced and pleasant to read and handle, and last of all came the love of fine printing, a passion which still holds me in its grip. 

Catalogue of the Library of Constance Astley
at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire (1928)

That section of private press editions dominates the 1928 catalogue and occupies the first thirty-seven pages. With her catalogue, she also, in a way, commemorates her (second) husband's hobby:

The ornithological section of my library owes its inception to my husband, Hubert Astley, whose knowledge and love of birds was well-known.

He probably never collected books, although he was said to be 'a finished linguist, artist, and connoisseur of many forms of art' (Richard Vincent Sutton, A Record of his Life together with Extracts from his Private Papers, 1922, p. 16). Constance Astley merely took her second husband's hobby as the starting point for a new nucleus in a growing book collection. While he was busy outside with his bird collection, she was studying inside the library.

At the end of her preface, she explains that she loved dogs and hunting immensely, but that her age now made such outdoor hobbies more difficult to pursue and that she was therefore all the more grateful to be able to read about these subjects in her library. She also hoped her legacy would inspire her son (from her second marriage):

... when he has out-grown his taste for the works of Edgar Wallace!

Apparently not. After her death, the shelves were soon emptied and the books left for London to be dispersed to all corners of the world.

Catalogue of the Library of Constance Astley
at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire (1928)

Sawyer knew that there was plenty of interest among passionate collectors of private press books. However modestly she spoke of the collection, she had collected almost all books from the important private presses. She denied it, but surely she had a 'system'! Her collection stood lonely at the top, containing almost all deluxe editions of the Ashendene Press, Daniel Press, Doves Press, Eragny Press, Essex House Press, Kelmscott Press, and Vale Press.

Note

Thanks are due to Scott Ellwood of the Grolier Club in New York who kindly provided scans of the 1941 Sawyer catalogue.

601. A Vale Press Collector: Constance Astley (1)

A wealthy but lesser-known collector of the Vale Press was Constance Astley. There are few records about her.

Incidentally, there are at least two Constance Astleys, one of whom lived from 1851 to 1935, a traveller and diarist whose full name was Constance Charlotte Astley. She travelled extensively through New Zealand; her family lived at Arisaig House on Arisaig Island, Scotland.

She was not the collector of books.

Brinsop Court, near Hereford

The bibliophile's name was Constance Edith Corbet (1866-1940). She married Sir Richard Francis Sutton (born 1853) in 1888. From this marriage a son was born in April 1891, a few months after Sutton's death in February. This was such a severe blow that Constance suffered from a near suicidal depression (see Calderonia). Her son Richard (Dick) Vincent Astley would die in France when on active service just after the Great War; he died of influenza on 29 November 1918, and was buried in Haaltert (Belgium).

In 1895 Lady Constance Sutton born Corbet married the reverend Hubert Delaval Astley (1860-1925). With him, she had two children, a son (Philip Reginald Astley who lived from 1896 to 1958) and a daughter (Ruth Constance Astley who lived from 1900 to 1984). Since her second marriage, Constance was called Constance Astley. In 1912, the Astleys bought a thirteenth-century house, Brinsop Court near Hereford, and they had it renovated, restoring the gardens and adding an extension to the house.

Hubert Astley was a keen ornithologist, an editor of and regular writer for the Avicultural Magazine, and author of My Birds in Freedom and Captivity (1900). After his death, Constance continued his collection of live birds, and became a member of the British Ornithologists Union.  

A portrait of Constance Astley appears to have been made by Augustus John in 1913. It was sold by Christie's in 2015 and can be viewed here, on Christie's website. Incidentally, it is not entirely certain which Astley was depicted by the artist: the bibliophile was about 47 years old in 1913, the older traveller was 62. It is likely that the portrait is indeed of the bibliophile.

Constance Astley published three books: one about her first son: Richard Vincent Sutton. A Record of his Life together with Extracts from his Private Papers (1922), one about her dog, containing text by her second husband: The Memoirs of No-nosi, a Prize-Pekingese (1931) - and, in between, a book about her library was printed: Catalogue of the Library of Constance Astley at Brinsop Court, Herefordshire (1928). All were designed and printed for her by George W. Jones at the Dolphin Press in London. It is supposed that only about fifty copies of each book were issued. 

Richard Vincent Sutton (1891-1918)

After her second husband died, she remained at Brinsop Court were her library was located. The catalogue of her collection - set in Linotype Grandjon Old Face and Civilité type and printed on handmade paper in a large format - contains quite a few 'Books on Birds and other Natural History Books' listed on pages 245 to 273. The 'General Collection' is described on pages 49-244. However, in regard to Ricketts the first fifty pages are of significance. These show the depth of her collection of books on book bindings and bookplates - and, extensively, the private presses section of her library.

600. The Art Collection of Ricketts and Shannon

Blogpost number 600 is a contribution written by Helen Ritchie, Senior Curator Modern & Contemporary Applied Arts at the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. She studied at Trinity Hall, University of Cambridge and the University of the Arts London. She joined the Fitzwilliam in 2016, and has been responsible for the exhibition Designers and Jewellery 1850-1940: Jewellery and Metalwork from The Fitzwilliam Museum (2018), writing the accompanying catalogue, and she has curated other exhibitions. In 2020, she published the article 'The Portrait Jewels of Charles Ricketts (1866-1931)' in Jewellery Studies. The Journal of The Society of Jewellery Historians (read the text online). I am very grateful to her for this blog essay about the art collection of Ricketts and Shannon.

The Art Collection of Ricketts and Shannon

Although better-known as a designer, illustrator, painter and sculptor, Charles Ricketts was not only a producer of art, but a consumer and collector of it too. Together with his partner, artist Charles Shannon, Ricketts amassed an enormous, eclectic art collection, which encompassed Classical and Egyptian antiquities, Japanese woodblock prints, ‘old master’ drawings, and works by more contemporary artists such as Rossetti and Burne-Jones. Ricketts was avid in his attendance of sales at auction houses and dealers' warehouses and had an excellent eye, making use of his formidable memory and extensive knowledge of art to pick up bargains and as-yet unattributed works. The collection mirrored the breadth of Ricketts and Shannon's interests, as recorded by Ricketts in 1900: 

Tuesday. Looked through more of those perfect prints belonging to a German, in this case in the hands of a thief who asked Bing prices for them. Bought 2: one Outamaro, & one Harunobu. I think at their best that nothing quite touches a first rate Jap print, excepting a good greek Kylix or first rate Tannagra, even the latter hardly compare, only the masterpieces of the greatest masters go beyond; picked Titians or Rembrandts or world famous frescoes.

[Charles Ricketts, diary, 30 October 1900, BL Add MS 58098] (See also Self-Portrait, 1939, p. 47]

During the 1890s, Ricketts and Shannon focused on acquiring artworks that were less popular and thus more affordable, in particular, antiquities and Japanese woodblock prints. During the first half of their lives, money was in relatively short supply and Ricketts's diary and correspondence are filled with the agonies of deciding how much to spend on artworks, whether they could afford such sums, and the unreliability of buying at auction houses. He wrote, 'I wish treasure turned up in shops and not in sale rooms' [Diary 22 February 1901, BL Add MS 58099. See also Self-Portrait, 1939, p. 54]. Friend Cecil Lewis described the 'skimping' and 'saving' that enabled Ricketts and Shannon to save up to acquire artworks, and them selling only 'with the greatest reluctance', for example, in 1929, when Ricketts sold their entire group of Persian paintings in order to raise funds for Shannon's medical care. Large-scale oil paintings were often out of reach financially, although sacrifices were made in order to acquire some, including Piero di Cosimo's 'Lapiths and Centaurs' (1500–15), purchased by Ricketts and Shannon in 1904 for £500, just after it had been refused by the Louvre (later bequeathed to the National Gallery), and Alfred Stevens's portrait of Leonard W. Collmann (1854), which was purchased for £300.

Piero di Cosimo, 'The Fight between the Lapiths and the Centaurs' (1500-15)
[Photo/Collection: National Gallery, London]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

Alfred Stevens, 'Leonard W. Collmann' (1854)
[Photo/Collection: The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

Throughout their lives, the collection was displayed in their homes at Kennington Park Road, the Vale, Beaufort Street (both in Chelsea), Spring Terrace in Richmond, Lansdown House in Kensington, Townshend House in Regent's Park, and in their country retreat, the Keep at Chilham Castle, Kent. Matt Cook (see 'Further Reading' below) has written extensively on the aesthetics of the homes of Ricketts and Shannon, and how their collection brought them together, drawing on the numerous comments made by contemporary visitors, who noted the collection and its arrangement. Although many rooms were ascetic in their sparse decoration, according to Cecil Lewis, certain rooms were arranged like 'a small museum':

Egyptian antiquities, Greek vases and figurines lived in glass cases. Below were drawers full of antique beads and Chinese hair ornaments […]; there were Adam sofas and chairs, Italian side-tables, a marble torso, a bas-relief, a picture of Don Juan by Ricketts, a portrait of [the actress] Mrs Pat[rick Campbell] by Shannon… But this room was never lived in. Days would pass when it was not visited. It was open only when they received, when friends who cared to see, and would understand its rarity, were shown round. Yet it was not, like a museum, cold and detached. It was a set piece, true; but it was none the less a room. Arranged in perfect taste. 

[Cecil Lewis, 'Preface' in Self-Portrait (1939), p. ix]

Given the money, time and attention lavished on the collection, and its important role in the construction of the identities of both Ricketts and Shannon as individuals, and as a couple, it was important that plans were made for its future. Therefore, Ricketts arranged that on his and Shannon's death, most of the collection (comprising more than one thousand works) would be left to various museums. Some of the paintings were bequeathed to the National Gallery, London, and more than 300 Japanese woodblock prints, mostly collected by Shannon, were left to the British Museum under the guardianship of their friend, Laurence Binyon, who was Keeper of the Prints and Drawings Department there until 1933.

Kitagawa Utamaro, woodblock print from the series: Fujin Tewaza Juni-Ko (1790s)
[Photo/Collection: British Museum, London: 1937,0710,0.96]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

However, the bulk of the collection was left to The Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge, on the advice of Sydney Carlyle Cockerell (1867–1962), Director of the Fitzwilliam between 1908 and 1937. Cockerell was a great friend of Ricketts and Shannon, often borrowing works from their collection for display in the Museum and receiving 'tip offs' from Ricketts on bargains he had come across. After Ricketts's sudden death in 1931, much of the collection was lent to The Fitzwilliam and bequeathed permanently to the Museum on Shannon's death in 1937. 

In the Museum's Annual Report of 1937, the bequest is listed as follows:

Bequeathed by Charles Hazelwood Shannon, R A:

The Ricketts and Shannon Collections:

The collection of Egyptian antiquities.

The collection of Greek and Roman antiquities, including fine black- and red-figure Greek vases.

47 Classical gems.

15 paintings of the Italian, Flemish, French and English schools.

426 drawings and watercolours by old and modern masters of the Italian, Flemish, Dutch, German, Spanish, French and English schools, including fine examples by Titian, Tintoretto, Tiepolo, Rubens, Van Dyck, Rembrandt, Goya, Watteau, Rowlandson, Stevens and Burne-Jones.

A bronze head of Shannon, by Lilian T. Wells. [This is by Reginald Fairfax Wells]

68 engravings, including work by Goya, Keene and Legros.

A miniature of a child, attributed to Fragonard.

4 pieces of Italian majolica, 16th century.

A Meissen dish, c. 1765.

5 brass dishes, German, 15th century.

A piece of Persian embroidery.

41 Japanese drawings, including works by Hokusai.

A gold locket containing hair of Swinburne and Rossetti.

A satinwood side-table, English, late 18th century.

A mirror in a painted frame.

The collection of around 190 Greek and Roman antiquities included the extremely important bust of Antinous as Dionysos, unearthed from Hadrian's villa at Tivoli, but it was the drawings in particular that were praised for their quality. 

Rembrandt, 'The Supper at Emmaus' (1640-41)
[Photo/Collection: The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

The Museum's Annual Report continues:

The bequest of Charles Shannon has greatly enriched the Department [of Pictures and Drawings] in all sections, but especially in that of old-master drawings. Titian's Jupiter and Io, Rembrandt's Christ at Emmaus, and the finest of the drawings by Rubens and Watteau are masterpieces unsurpassed in their kind. The collection also contains numerous other drawings, both by old and modern masters, of the finest quality. Among the paintings may be specially mentioned those by Nardo di Cione, Bicci di Lorenzo and Jacopo del Sellaio, Archbishop Laud from the studio of Vandyck (one of nine known versions), and the portrait of Leonard Collmann by Alfred Stevens.

Anthony van Dyck, 'Archbishop Laud' (c.1635-37)
[Photo/Collection: The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

The collection included a range of works by nineteenth-century French artists, including Delacroix, Barye, Millet, Puvis de Chavannes and Rodin, but none of the Impressionists, whose work Ricketts detested. He was also a great admirer of some nineteenth-century English artists, especially Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones. Ricketts acquired one of Burne-Jones's earliest large-scale pencil drawings, 'The Backgammon Players' (1861) from collector (and fellow donor to the Fitzwilliam Museum), Charles Fairfax Murray, who as Burne-Jones's first studio assistant, had been drawn into the Pre-Raphaelite circle. Burne-Jones later painted the same scene in watercolour (now in the collection of Birmingham City Museum and Art Gallery) and on a cabinet made by Philip Webb (now in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York).

Edward Burne-Jones, 'The Backgammon Players' (1861)
[Photo/Collection: The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

Rossetti’s drawing, 'Mary Magdalene at the door of Simon the Pharisee' (1858) had long been thought lost before it was rediscovered by Ricketts, who purchased it sometime before 1890.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 'Mary Magdalene at the door of Simon the Pharisee' (1858) 
[Photo/Collection: The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International
(CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

Ricketts's prodigious knowledge was widely acknowledged by his peers – he acted as art advisor to the National Gallery of Canada (1924–31) and to individuals including Sir Edmund Davis, who gave Ricketts and Shannon the Keep at Chilham Castle for life in return for the excellent advice Ricketts had given him on buying profitable pictures. In 1915, Ricketts had been offered and declined the Directorship of the National Gallery, London, a decision that he bitterly regretted, writing in his diary, 'I have been an ass' (Self-Portrait, p. 261, diary 16 June 1916). 

Ricketts was more active than Shannon in the acquisition of artworks but their collection was an entirely joint venture, the two men using conjoined ‘C’s as their collectors’ mark. The collection was at the heart of their lives, connecting their professional and artistic activity with their domestic life together at home. At the lowest point in their relationship, when it seemed that Shannon might leave Ricketts for the sculptor, Kathleen Bruce (1878–1947), Ricketts invoked their art as an important reason to stay together, exclaiming, 'And what would become of the collection?' (quoted in Michael Field’s journal, 19 October 1907). It is also a sad irony that the collection was the cause of Shannon's fall in 1929 and subsequent disability – he fell while trying to hang a picture on the stairs.

However, it is important to note that the joint nature of the collection has often been occluded in the documentation of these objects due to institutional technicalities and procedures. As Shannon was the last of the two men to die, and therefore the collection was bequeathed to museums by him as an individual, many objects appear in museum collections as 'Bequeathed by Charles Shannon, 1937', with no reference at all to Ricketts. This masks the key role that Ricketts played in piecing together the collection, and ignores the role of the importance of the collection in the construction of Ricketts's and Shannon's relationship. Given that Ricketts was particularly sensitive to this sort of detail, berating Cockerell for labelling jewels in the Fitzwilliam as having belonged to 'Misses Bradley & Cooper' instead of by their preferred singular pseudonym of Michael Field (letter from Ricketts to Cockerell, dated 6 June 1917, British Library, Add MS 52746, no. 58), it undoubtedly would have distressed him to think that his and Shannon's collection would have been similarly incorrectly credited.

Indeed, shortly after the bequest was formalized, the objects were installed in the Fitzwilliam Museum with only Shannon's name appearing on the object labels. This was noticed immediately by friends of Ricketts and Shannon. The Museum's archive contains a letter dated 24 October 1937 from Thomas Sturge Moore to then-Fitzwilliam Museum Director, L. C. G. Clarke. In it, Moore writes of Ricketts and Shannon, 'Their friendship, like their collection, was unique and they regarded its designation by their joint names as their monument.' For Ricketts and Shannon, their collection was intended to be their joint legacy, recording their partnership for posterity.

This letter, and its reply, was highlighted recently by participants in the University of Cambridge Museums' Remix programme and, read aloud in full, formed the basis of a creative response to Edmund Dulac's portrait of the pair as medieval saints, which is also in the Fitzwilliam's collection. In light of this evidence and the clarity of their wishes, it behoves Curators at the many institutions that benefitted from their generosity to ensure that both Ricketts and Shannon are credited with the creation of their unique and important art collection.

                                                                                                                Helen Ritchie

Further reading on the art collection of Ricketts and Shannon:

Stephen Calloway, ''Tout pour l'art': Charles Ricketts, Charles Shannon and the Arrangement of a collection' in The Journal of the Decorative Arts Society 1890-1940, no. 8 (1984), pp. 19–28.

Matt Cook, 'Domestic Passions: Unpacking the Homes of Charles Shannon and Charles Ricketts' in Journal of British Studies, vol. 51, no. 3 (2012), pp. 618–640.

Joseph Darracott, All for Art: The Ricketts and Shannon Collection. Cambridge , Cambridge University Press (for) Fitzwilliam Museum, 1979.

Caroline Elam, 'Piero di Cosimo and Centaurophilia in Edwardian London' in The Burlington Magazine, vol. 151, no. 1278 (2009), pp. 607–615.

Jane Munro, 'CR and Charles Shannon collectionneurs de dessins' in Catherine Monbeig Goguel (ed.), L'Artiste collectionneur de dessin II. Paris, Société du Salon de Dessin, 2007, pp. 149–60.

Christina Rozeik, '"A maddening temptation" The Ricketts and Shannon Collection of Greek and Roman Antiquities' in Journal of the History of Collections, vol. 24, no. 3 (2012), pp. 369–378.

Note

For the transcription of Ricketts's diary notes, the editor wishes to thank John Aplin.

599. A Blog about Ricketts?

On a personal note, when I started this blog about Ricketts and Shannon, there were two comments I received and both surprised me.

The first comment was made by someone in the museum world who was convinced that I would not be able to think of a new subject after only three weeks. Ricketts & Shannon: what else was there to say about them?

To that, of course, I had no answer, except to express the idea that so much was still unknown.

Charles Ricketts

The second comment came from the university world. A professor warned me not to give away all that information just like that, for free.

My thought was precisely that there might be a need for an open platform for scholars and enthusiasts who shared an interest in Ricketts and those around him. Of course, I soon realised that a blog could not count as a scholarly publication - which is why it never crossed my mind. For me it was always about widening the circle, about a search for new connections, about sharing information. And, over the years, it has turned out that responses can come from unexpected quarters. Consider, for example, the discovery of Ricketts's mother's grave in Genoa, Italy - without this blog, we would not have known that it had been discovered by a group of serious investigators on the ground.

I have never doubted the usefulness of a blog as specialised as this one about Ricketts and Shannon, and judging by the many comments over the years, there is an audience for it. It doesn't have to be massive - nor will it ever be huge, but in the meantime, we help each other spread the knowledge about a multi-talented artist like Ricketts, and thereby gain insight into details about the world of the book, book design, painting, theatre and costume design, collecting, and all the other areas of art with which Ricketts became involved. I write these words only to announce that next week the six-hundredth blog will go online. My blessing it has, I hope yours too. 

598. Ricketts Becomes a Penguin

One day in March 1900, Charles Ricketts went to Kew and saw the penguins. The writers 'Michael Field', recalled in their diary notes for 19 March 1900, his impersonation of the bird (Michael Field journal 1900, British Library BL Add MS 46789, 38v-39r):

A penguin seen at Kew Gardens
(Evening News, 29 June 1899)

He has been to Kew & carries about with him always his passion for the penguin – he must find a place for it in his art. He becomes the penguin – he flaps, he coughs ironically, he fixes a golden eye on his mate & says 'Let us go hence' – wobbling along & superciliously shaking his flappers above the common ducks.

The Penguin! – he is supreme in the quality that attracts Ricketts to all birds – their ridiculousness, their light comedy. The Penguin! – what are the peacocks – trailing over the ivy, their necks like serpents & their bodies like mountains – what are they to the Penguin? He has fur like a seal & a golden eye & he is absurd.

Penguins at Kew Gardens? Indeed. A man who had formerly worked at the gardens, accepted the post of gardener to the governor of the Falkland Islands, returned to London in 1899, and presented a couple of penguins to the curator of Kew Gardens. 

A penguin seen at Kew Gardens
(Evening News, 29 June 1899)

There is a fat big one who is called Peter, and a smaller, less dignified bird who possesses as yet no name. (Evening News, 29 June 1899)

They were kept in an enclosure near Palm House, and let out in the pond each afternoon at two o'clock to the enjoyment of 'nursemaids and children', and people like Ricketts. At three o'clock they were fed on fish.

However, it appeared there must have been three penguins, two of which died in September 1899 (Globe, 21 September 1899).

597. Ricketts, Shannon and Wilde's Manuscripts

A new research source on Oscar Wilde came online in April last year: 'Oscar Wilde. An Annotated Bibliography of Manuscripts and Their Provenances' [see: wilde.manuscripts]. The website is the work of Wolfgang Maier-Sigrist, a German Oscar Wilde aficionado, who writes: 

The present platform is an attempt to provide a table of manuscripts, typescripts and provenances of major works of Oscar Wilde from as many reliable sources as possible. Because of the great number of extant manuscripts (and the many manuscripts that cannot be located), I am obliged to restrict this table for the present to specific works by Wilde.

The site contains information about Wilde's plays, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, his long poem The Sphinx, and his essay The Soul of Man under Socialism.

All of these works and their manuscripts are listed with their histories and provenances in full detail. They are augmented with dealers’ catalogue entries and other informative notes on each item.

Search result for 'Ricketts' on Wolfgang Maier-Sigrist's Oscar Wilde site

The site includes lists of auction houses and catalogues. It also lists dealers, managers, publishers, collectors and others involved in Wilde's work. The names of his designers (Beardsley, Ricketts and Shannon) are missing from this Index of Names. Nevertheless, they do feature which is easy to discover by using the excellent search function.

596. The Dial in Italy

In some European countries, such as Belgium and the Netherlands, Ricketts and Shannon's early publications were noted, and sometimes more positively received, than in Britain. This is less so in Mediterranean countries, such as Spain and Italy, where occasional attention was nevertheless paid to these artists.

Emporium, August 1895: cover

In 1897, Andrea Mellerio devoted an article to the new book arts in the UK for Emporium magazine, ‘Il rinnovamento della stampa’ (Emporium, March 1897, pp. [323]-336), illustrating the title page of the first Vale Press edition, Milton's Early Poems.

Earlier, in August 1895, Emporium contained an essay by the Italian art historian Giulio Carotti (1852-1922), 'Della decorazione moderne in Inghilterra' (Emporium, August 1895, pp. [120]-129), illustrating works by Edward Burne-Jones (1), Walter Crane (10), William Morris (4), H.B. Scott (4), Aubrey Beardsley (1), R. Anning Bell (2), Oliver Brackett (1), and Charles Ricketts (1). 

Cover for The Dial, No. 3 (1893)
in Emporium, August 1895

The cover of The Dial No. 3 (1893), designed by Ricketts, was shown. Its style and symbolism was not (like, Walter Cane's art) associated with the Florentine Renaissance, but with that in Germany:

Tal altra volta ci danno reminiscenze dell'antica arte tedesca, come nella copertina del "Dial" splendida revista che pubblicasi ad intervalli irregolari dal Ricketts e dal Shannon, due dei migliori e più stimati illustratori contemporanei, oppure inspirata alla vecchia arte dei miniatori inglesi del medio evo. Di questo stile abbiamo un saggio nel titolo o frontispizio dei componimenti poetici di Dante Gabriele Rossetti dipinto dal Morris. (At other times they give us reminiscences of ancient German art, as in the cover of the splendid 'Dial' magazine published at irregular intervals by Ricketts and Shannon, two of the best and most esteemed contemporary illustrators, and sometimes inspired by the old art of the English illuminators of the Middle Ages.)

It was just one illustration and it did not bring about a breakthrough in Italy: the influence of Ricketts and Shannon would not extend to modern Italian book art.

595. Ricketts and Shannon Playing

It may seem at times that Ricketts and Shannon did nothing but work seriously and hard in their studio, or build exhibitions, participate in art committees and devote themselves to art matters in general. But there was relaxation too: Ricketts loved concerts, Shannon who was not musically inclined preferred to stick to bike rides. Sometimes we catch glimpses of Ricketts and Shannon playing and only rarely of a joint game.

But around 1900 - we read in the diaries of Michael Field [Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper] - they were playing dominoes. The first time, the game takes place in one of the rooms in the Fields' house, as Bradley records:

And after tea in the grot, we fall cosily to dominoes, with white port to console the losers. Shannon is looking exquisite. His lids have the swell of full-orbed buds that must let loose their flowers next day. His gay, resolute face shines clear. His fellow is of a white flecked with wind & agitated. I watch & enjoy through the excitement of the game. I am wearing a little rose-chintz blouse. I am warm as its tints with pleasure. 

[Michael Field journal 1900, BL Add MS 46789, 177r, 22 December 1900.]

Group of 21 dominoes made of wood, with painted spots, from Burma [now Myanmar] (19th-20th C.)

© The Trustees of the British Museum [British Library, London]

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

The second game takes place at Ricketts and Shannon's house, when the Fields (and Chow, their dog) seek safe shelter there because of a fire on their street. Edith Cooper wrote the report:

Michael fronts the Painter at the Door. “We are come for shelter – there is a gt. fire in our road; we have come away from it & ask you to let us stay by your fire & to guard our most precious possessions.” Most cordially, we are taken in to the drawing-room. Two chairs & a little table covered with the design of a finished game of dominos stand in the hearth. Above upon the mantel-shelf two oranges each absorbing a lump of sugar are ready – On a satinwood Table-top a little sugar-basin between the players gives the only note of luxury. The fire is bright; & we have come upon the artists like thieves in the night from our own game at cards to find them as simply occupied & putting our daintiness to shame.

With fear of their bulk we drop our wraps. At once sloe-gin & hot cognac are offered, the boxes & books placed in safety, the Chow regaled with all the milk that can be spared from the cats’ breakfast. Seriously, allayingly, they listen – Shannon suddenly composed, Ricketts a little anxious, Martha-like at moments, but unfailingly perfect in his care & entertainment. [….] Shannon goes back with Michael – I am left, still in the midst of furs, with Ricketts, who is specially delighted to see us, like Sarah Bernhardt, covered with rings. “And the Pendant?” he questioned Michael before she left. She gave ocular proof of its preciousness by taking it off & leaving it in a safe drawer.

[Michael Field journal 1901, BL Add MS 46790, 9v-10v: 7 January 1901.]

594. Ricketts Interviewed about the Restriction of the Exportation of Works of Art

At the beginning of the 20th century, significant works of art came onto the market, partly as a result of taxes that forced new generations to dispose of paintings. These works could not be acquired by public collections as prices were pushed up by wealthy American private collectors, and oils by Rembrandt, Gainsborough and Reynolds moved across the Atlantic. The Morning Post (4 January 1912) interviewed two leading experts about their thoughts, 'Mr. Charles Ricketts' and 'Mr. D. Croal Thomson'. Thomson (1855-1930) had been the first director of the Goupil Gallery, and later worked as an art dealer for Agnew, before he became the proprietor of the French Gallery. We leave aside his judgment on the matter. 

As for Ricketts, what did he think? Ricketts opposed overly strict regulation. He felt that revenue from high export taxes could provide a fund for purchases (even if there was already one: the National Art Collections Fund had been founded in 1903). Moreover, the British had to grant the Americans their share of masterpieces, and owners their right to sell a picture.

Rembrandt, 'The Mill',
acquired from the collection of the Marquess of Lansdowne
by P.A.B Widener (1911)
[National Gallery of Art, Washington]

Mr. Charles Ricketts (*)

Mr. Charles Ricketts, the well-known artist and writer, was in favour of some legislation having for its object the restriction of the exportation of works of art which it is really desirable to retain in this country. "At the same time, I do not think," he said, "that it would be desirable to adopt such a measure as the Editto Pacca, which brought about a position in Italy that was simply intolerable. Not only did it operate greatly to the detriment of the owners of pictures, since they were unable to sell them anywhere but in one country and that country a poor one, but it made it impossible for them to lend them to foreign galleries for purposes of exhibition. 

Since then the Italian law has been modified, but even now it is not altogether satisfactory. If a person wishes to dispose of a work of art abroad he must give notice to the Government, which, if it thinks proper, can purchase it at a fair price after it has been valued by experts. The trouble is that the Italian Government, like most Governments, suffers from chronic impecuniosity, and therefore, it pays when it likes, which is a great injustice of course to the seller. 

What I should propose is this: that our own Government should put a substantial export duty on all acknowledged masterpieces. The money thus obtained would form a valuable fund for the purchase of other art treasures on behalf of the nation. It may be said that it would be easy for owners to set a merely nominal value on their property. Such a ruse, however, could be easily defeated by enacting that the Government should have in every case the option of purchasing any work of art at the declared valuation. This would not have the disastrous consequences of the Pecca law, or of a similar law in Greece which has practically put a stop to excavation in that country. (**)

Really, it does seem to me that the desire to keep works of art in one's own country is apt to degenerate into what I may call a dog-in-the-manger spirit. After all if pictures had always remained in the country of their origin we should not have in our galleries and museums any specimens of the great painters of Italy, Holland, France, and other countries. One would think, to judge from some comments one hears, that what we have done in the past, and are still doing at the present day, Americans have no right to do. America is a living nation, and as such is entitled to its share in the living art of the past. 

As a matter of fact the dispersal of works of art is not a bad thing from one point of view. I mean that it may result in their being saved from destruction by fire. It was touch and go with the Louvre in Paris in 1871, and who knows that all the treasures which are stored up there may not be destroyed in the next French Revolution?

As regards the Americans, what they have acquired is really insignificant as compared with what we have got. What the Government ought to see is that the number of old masterpieces can never be increased, but, on the contrary, is bound to diminish in the future. It is the story of the Sibylline books over again: every one that disappears enhances the value of those which remain.

As it is the annual grant given to the National Gallery for the purchase of works of art is not sufficient to purchase, I will not say a picture like Rembrandt's 'Mill,' but even a representative work of the English or French school. And remember that, as Keats said, a thing of beauty is a joy for ever. A masterpiece of painting is not like a man-of-war which is beginning to get out of date even while it is under construction. Yet while we spend millions and millions on men-of-war we can spare only a few paltry thousands for art. We shall discover our mistake when it is too late.

In a few years time there will be no more masterpieces to buy. The prices that are bid for them nowadays offer an almost irresistible attraction even to noble and wealthy owners. Our aristocracy are not like American millionaires, whose most engrossing occupation is giving 'monkey dinners'. The owners of British broad acres have duties and responsibilities to fulfil, and nowadays the demands upon them are becoming greater and greater every day. It is to be wondered at that they listen to the voice of the tempter who offers them a fortune for a single canvas? I fancy I can hear one of them say, 'After all I did not buy the picture, and it is not indispensable to my existence. People come in in muddy boots to see it, and they say: "It is very good," or "It is not genuine." That is what I get out of it.'  There is a good deal in this point of view. Certainly no one thanks him for keeping it if he does do so.

In Germany, I believe, orders are conferred on very rich men who undertake to buy particular pictures for the nation. Our Government does practically nothing. Here it seems to be assumed that our hospitals and other great public institutions must necessarily be supported by charity. To my mind such a view is appalling - it is positively indecent. With regard to the management of the National Gallery under existing circumstances I disapprove of the Trustees and Committee principle altogether. In all matters of art I believe in an autocracy, tempered by the fear, not of assassination, but of dismissal. You should put a man in power and trust him implicitly until you find it expedient to get rid of him. Burton practically had autocratic power, and he made the National Gallery what it is. Similarly in Berlin Dr. Bode has had a perfectly free hand at the Kaiser Friedrich Museum with the happiest results."

(*) Division into paragraphs was made by me and did not appear in the newspaper columns.

(**) We may assume that Ricketts's opinion about illegal exportation of ancient art from Greece and Italy would be different today.

593. A Vale Press Collector: Robert Leighton

The bookbinder and antiquarian bookseller Walter James Leighton whose collection I discussed last week is probably not (directly) related to Robert Leighton, the collector who is the subject this week.

Robert Leighton was born in Lambeth (15 June 1884) and died in Ealing, Middlesex (24 July 1959). In 1918, he married Married Janet Wotherspoon.

Binding ticket of Leighton Straker
(posted by Edmund King on Pinterest)

In the 1911 census, Leighton was listed as Managing Director of a wholesale bookbinding factory. Later he was Chairman and Managing Director of Leighton Straker Bookbinding Co. Ltd. The firm was an exhibitor at the 1929 British Industrial Fair, and according to their presentation, the company's work included bookbindings in cloth and leather, trade catalogue bindings, book covers for export, loose leaf binders, guard books, and portfolios. Leighton's brother Douglas (1886-1948) was also mentioned as a managing director. The British Library website includes images of some of their bindings (see The British Library, Database of Bookbindings). In the 1930s the firm issued an advertisement leaflet that pointed out their strengths, To Give You Binding Quality at a Thoroughly Economic Price.

Binding by Leighton Straker Bookbinding Co
for James Joyce, Ulysses (1936)

Examples of their work include the binding of James Joyce's Ulysses  (John Lane, The Bodley Head, 1936), featuring a Homeric bow designed by Eric Gill. The limited edition was executed in full vellum, and nine hundred copies were bound in green cloth.

Leighton also acted as a director of The Nonesuch Library Ltd, and from 1952 became responsible for a new limited editions programme. Earlier, Leighton-Straker had been one of the larger stakeholders of The Nonesuch Press (see John Dreyfus, A History of the Nonesuch Press, 1981). Another function Leighton performed was chairman of the Master Binders’ Association.

The Catalogue of Leighton's Collection

As with Walter James Leighton, his collection could be largely made up of exceptional bookbindings, but for the Vale Press editions in his collection, this is only very partially the case.

His book collection was described (as we know, not always adequately and in detail) in the auction catalogue Catalogue of the Valuable and Extensive Library. The Property of the late Sir Robert Leighton [Sold by Order of the Executors]. The First Portion: Private Press Books, Bibliography and Other Modern Books. Including […] Vale Press […] The books are notable for their fine condition […]. London, Sotheby & Co., 9-11 May 1960. The second portion was sold on 18 October 1960.

Leighton possessed French and Italian Renaissance and English Restoration bindings, including bindings by or for Farnese, Wynkyn de Worde, Aldine, Elzevir and Baskerville, as well as continental embroidered bindings, examples of the work of  Edwards of Halifax, and a presentation binding for Louis XVIII. 

Leighton also collected specially bound books from the Ashendene Press, Gregynog Press, and Kelmscott Press (including vellum copies and proof pages), but also Bremer Presse, Cranach Presse, Cuala Press, Daniel Press, Doves Press (including vellum or inscribed copies, for example to Annie Cobden-Sanderson), Essex House Press, Golden Cockerell Press, and Lee Priory Press (including a corrected office copy). 

According to a description by Robin Halwas, the top price (£380) was paid by Douglas for a binding by Katherine Adams (on Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte Darthur, 1913), and a collection of about 250 designs for details of bindings by Cobden-Sanderson was bought by Maggs (lot 210, £260); another of Cobden-Sanderson designs for complete bindings was bought by Quaritch (lot 211, £320).

Leighton's collection of the first hundred Nonesuch books and some later ones was sold by Christie’s (Fine Printed Books and Manuscripts, 9 July 2022, lot 61).

Catalogue of the Valuable and Extensive Library.
The Property of the late Sir Robert Leighton
(Sotheby & Co., 1960)
[Collection KB, national library, The Hague]

Robert Leighton's Vale Press Collection

The 1960 catalogue included several books by Ricketts (such as Beyond the Threshold) and also a complete set of The Dial magazine. However, the Vale Press publications officially issued by Hacon & Ricketts between 1896 and 1904 occupied a separate section: 'Vale Press Books', lots 688 to 706.

Was Robert Leighton in possession of a complete set of all official Vale Press editions? It is difficult to establish. If we add up all the books in these lots we arrive at one hundred and three volumes, while a complete set consists of ninety volumes.

Some descriptions of lots include three book titles and then the agonisingly vague statement 'and five others'. Lot 706 contains first 'three others by the same' (Michael Field) alongside three described editions and at the end it says: 'and six others'. 75% of the lot is not specified. Of the 103 volumes of Vale Press books in this auction, a quarter are unidentified.

Since Robert Leighton did have a complete Vale Shakespeare in his bookcase, I assume he owned a complete collection. After all, the titles that were described do not show that certain authors or genres or literary periods are conspicuously missing.

Besides, of some publications he owned multiple copies such as William Blake's Poetical Sketches. His collection also included copies printed on vellum. Of these, he owned Shelley's Lyrical Poems, Rossetti's Hand and Soul, Tennyson's In Memoriam and Lyric Poems, Cellini's autobiography in two volumes, The Parables from the Gospels, and Michael Field's Julia Domna. It is likely that he also had paper copies of these books.

Of some books, he had copies bound by Sarah Prideaux (Shakespeare's Sonnets, 1899), Douglas Cockerell (Michael Field's The Race of Leaves, and Sangorski & Sutcliffe (Thomas Browne's Religio Medici).

Unlike his namesake Walter James, this collection was not one of an antiquarian bookseller, but rather of a collector and bibliophile, whose collection incidentally disintegrated during the auction and cannot be traced: Robert Leighton did not paste a bookplate in his books.