Seymour
De Ricci’s and Henrietta Bartlett’s The
Book Collector’s Guide: A Practical Handbook of British and American
Bibliography (1921) is much more than a forgotten price guide. The
timing of publication and bibliographic expertise provide an insider’s view of
the Golden Age of American book collecting--then arguably at its peak--when
opportunities were abundant and mighty collectors rose to the occasion. It was a transitory age, too, and reflects in
retrospect the coming shift from old paths to new paths in collecting that
would take hold in the 1930s. The story
of the book’s birth is also quite a tale with the polymath bookman Seymour de
Ricci at the helm and Henrietta Bartlett as his brilliant, but generally unrecognized
co-author.
The book itself is a stout octavo of
649 pages printed by the Torch Press of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, for the Rosenbach
Company of Philadelphia in two issues: the
deluxe version on Japan paper in a mustard cloth binding numbered 1-100, and
1,000 numbered copies on regular paper in a less sturdy green cloth. Copies of the deluxe issue have survived
nicely over time while the trade issue is usually found with heavily acidic
paper and cracked hinges. Neither came
cheap upon publication. The deluxe issue
price was $40 (roughly $488 in 2016 dollars) and the trade issue $10 ($122 in
2016). I have a copy of the original
prospectus issued by Rosenbach and two variant promotional pamphlets from Maggs
Bros., London, representing the marketing push in the UK.
De Ricci writes in the preface that this
book was designed to be an updated version of the fundamental bibliographic
guide by William Lowndes / Henry Bohn titled The Bibliographer’s Manual published a half century before. Although The
Bibliographer’s Manual is a “remarkable production” it had become “desperately
antiquated” according to De Ricci.
He explains, “The present book should—if
it really does serve its purpose—prove a useful guide. . . furnishing the
collector with a certain amount of indispensable information and telling him,
in almost every case, where he may obtain a more minute knowledge of the same
subjects.”
“In
this new Book Collector’s Guide are
described, in the alphabetical order of the authors, the two or three thousand
British and American books which fashion has decided are the most desirable for
the up-to-date collector. . . I have
sought to list, with a certain amount of completeness, the first editions of
the chief works and in many cases of all the works of the greater British and
American authors from Chaucer to Swinburne . . . it incorporates the substance
of all the latest monographs on each individual author and in several instances
will supply the only conveniently accessible list of an author’s first
editions. . .
“With a view to the great attention paid
by modern collectors to English dramatic literature, I have endeavoured to be
fairly complete in this direction and have included the first editions . . . of
practically all English plays of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. .
. For English books before 1600, those
of which are chiefly of typographical interest, have, in spite of their rarity
and market value, been very sparingly included. . . For many of the more prolific authors of the
seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries, lack of space has compelled
me to give but a selection of their works . . .”
De Ricci goes on to explain that he has
been “extremely exclusive” for modern writers and only included minimum
information on the likes of Andrew Lang, George Moore, Bret Harte, and Mark
Twain. “Shall I add that such first
editions, although already collected with much ardour, are not yet all real
collectors’ books, stricto sensu: their market value, for instance, is still, in
most cases extremely indefinite.”
Illustrated books are highlighted
because they “have always appealed to collectors of every country” and the rise
of William Blake as an object of collecting is not overlooked, “Blake has been,
with the kind assistance of Dr. Geoffrey Keynes, as fully listed as space
permitted.” Likewise, “Americana has received special attention
and a number of valuable items have been entered, more with a view towards selective
illustration than towards absolute completeness. . . The bulk of the other
books included in this Guide consists of the numerous standard works ‘no
gentleman’s library should be without,’ sets, series, and single items
consecrated by two centuries of fashion, found in all great British and
American libraries and covering a variety of volumes from the stately county
histories to the earliest Bradshaw, and Gould’s or Audubon’s ponderous
ornithological folios.”
What is not included is insightful for the time as well. Important incunabula is barely touched on—an
area hotly pursued by the earlier generation of collectors. Western Americana has yet to reach De Ricci’s
considerable mainstream. Nor have the great
works in science and medicine been included as John Carter points out in a
lengthy critique of the book in Taste and
Technique in Book Collecting (1948).
These collecting areas would blossom soon, partly on their own merits
and partly because the oil gusher of early English literature so popular at the
time was quick to run dry. No matter
one’s wealth or reach, all book hunters are invariably governed by the first
law of collecting: you can only gather
what is available.
Seymour de Ricci’s easy command of such
a wide range of books deserves elucidation.
De Ricci (1881-1942) was born in England but lived much of his life in
France. He was a renaissance man of
sorts producing publications pertaining to Roman history, European art,
Egyptology, French furniture and décor, bronzes, and other areas. However, as a bookman par excellence he is remembered.
His bibliographic expertise pinnacled in the area of provenance
research. Tracing the history of
particular copies of books through the maze of private owners, auctions, and
libraries over decades or centuries and across continents was sport to
him. No one was better and few have
equaled him at the game. This strength
threads through his various major bibliographic works including A Census of Caxtons (1909), Catalogue raisonne des premieres impressions
de Mayence (1445-1467) (1911), and A Census
of Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts in the United States and Canada (1940-). De Ricci’s English Collectors of Books & Manuscripts (1530-1930) and Their
Marks of Ownership (1930) is a must read for those with an interest in book
collecting history. The Book Collector’s Guide also highlights his provenance skills
and knowledge of biblio-history.
De Ricci was a hired gun for dealers and
collectors who valued his expertise. A.
S. W. Rosenbach was most prominent among those who utilized his services. Edwin Wolf and John Fleming write in Rosenbach (1960), “Seymour de
Ricci—six-foot-four of vast scholarship and bibliographical acumen, who had
revised Cohen’s Guide de l’amateur de
livres a gravures du XVIII siècle in 1912—had been consulted by the Doctor
when the arrangements for the Schuhmann library had been made. They had become acquainted through Clayton of
Agnew’s when Joseph Widener began buying French books. Recognizing that De Ricci’s knowledge of
books and his entrée to private libraries in France were a desirable adjunct,
the Doctor agreed that some arrangement might be made to their mutual
advantage. He suggested that De Ricci
keep his eyes open for really good buys and make contacts, and that on anything
he bagged for the Rosenbachs he would get one third of the profit. In spite of his deserved reputation. . . De
Ricci was as poor as the traditional scholar; like many European gentlemen of
that inflationary age he had tastes in both cultural and fleshly beauties
beyond his income; he welcomed the opportunity to enter into a partnership with
the Doctor who so fully shared his tastes and could afford to put up the money
for both of them. The regular flow of
Rosenbach checks thereafter saved De Ricci from a life of vin ordinaire.”
De Ricci died December 26, 1942 in Paris
and his large bibliography collection including extensive runs of auction
catalogues is now in France’s Bibliotheque Nationale. Eminent book dealer E. Ph. Goldschmidt wrote
a tribute in The Library (1944),
“This is a very serious loss to the cause of bibliography. For De Ricci was not only the author of a
number of most useful reference books, he was a phenomenon with a brain so
curiously constituted, a memory so strangely specialized and so infallible, a
capacity to work so indefatigable and so systematized, that it does not seem
probable the human species will bring forth his like again in a dozen
generations.”
But everyone needs help time and again
and De Ricci was first to acknowledge it in the preface to The Book Collector’s Guide, “Miss Henrietta C. Bartlett, whose
share in my labours has been so considerable that in all fair justice her name
should have appeared on the title page.
Not only did she continually assist me in the collection of data, the
preparation of the copy, and the arduous reading of the proofs, but her
accurate mind and well-balanced judgment have done more than I am able to
express towards making this Guide
acceptable to the public and useful to the general reader.”
Bartlett (1873-1963) was, like De Ricci,
one of the foremost bibliographers of her time.
She lived most of her life in New Haven, Connecticut and had close ties
to Yale through her family. Her mother
was a Terry, another prominent New England family along with the Bartlett’s,
and her mother’s cousin was the famous book collector Roderick T. Terry
(1849-1933). The Dictionary of American Book Collectors says of Terry, “He
became a member of the Grolier Club of New York and in that environment was
able to enjoy the companionship of such avid collectors as Beverly Chew,
William A. White, and John B. Thacher.”
Henrietta Bartlett would serve as private librarian and cataloguer for
both Chew and White. Biographical
details about Henrietta Bartlett’s entry into the male dominated rare book
world are scant, but it is likely Terry was involved in some fashion. Bartlett also had a close friendship with
Ruth Granniss (1872-1954), the Grolier Club librarian who knew Beverly Chew
well. Whatever the point of initiation,
Bartlett flourished, first working closely with Chew as his private librarian,
cataloging his library, while developing an expertise in Shakespeare and
Elizabethan literature.
Bartlett’s papers and correspondence are
at Yale where in the 1920s and 1930s she gave lectures on bibliography,
collecting, and rare books. Surprisingly,
the archive appears to have been little used so far. The list of correspondents in the finding aid
is extensive and shows that she was in contact with an incredible range of
prominent collectors, dealers, bibliographers, and librarians. She was also involved with the Hroswitha
Club, an informal Grolier Club for women when the Grolier Club was men only. Brief selections from the De Ricci letters
to Bartlett soon to follow give hints at the potential riches available for
study.
Her most well-known publications include
A Census of Shakespeare’s Plays in
Quarto, 1594-1709 (1916, rev. ed. 1939, both with Alfred W. Pollard), Mr. William Shakespeare: Original and Early
Editions of His Quartos and Folios, His Source Books and Those Containing
Contemporary Notices (1922), and Catalogue of Early English books, Chiefly of
the Elizabethan Period. Collected by
William Augustus White and Catalogued by Henrietta C. Bartlett (1926). As a side note, the 1916 Census may well be the first major bibliographic work with a
woman’s name on the title-page.
So, we have two heavyweights working on The Book Collector’s Guide aimed not at
the layman as usually encountered but focused on the roaring market of the
1920s—an audience of experienced collectors and dealers on one hand and rare
book librarians on the other who are encouraged to supplement their
“desperately antiquated” Lowndes. Were the resultant trials and tribulations
of publication ultimately a success? The
answer, as much in life, is not so simple.
The idea for the book was Seymour de
Ricci’s. Although he served as a soldier
for France during WWI this was apparently not enough to distract his bibliographically-focused
mind. De Ricci writes in the preface,
“First of all, Mr. Charles W. Clark, to whose encouragement this book, born in
the trenches of the Somme, owes its present shape and without whose generous
assistance it would possibly never had been published.” The book is also dedicated to “Charles W.
Clark, In memory of the pleasant hours spent among his books by a French
soldier.”
Wolf & Fleming write in Rosenbach, “A golden collector of the
golden age was Charles W. Clark [1871-1933], one of the two bibliophilic sons
of the picturesque copper king and senator from Montana, William A. Clark. Needless to say, the war [WWI] had not
lowered the price of copper. Both the
boys—Willie [William A. Clark, Jr.] and Charlie, the latter five years older
than Dr. Rosenbach—began buying books at about the same time. It was Charlie, with a taste for early
English literature, who first became a habitué of the Doctor’s New York book
room. He started off in that May of 1919
so redolent with fine books by acquiring two late seventeenth-century
Shakespeare quartos, and followed up that acquisition with two better quartos,
the Vernon copies of the 1619 Merry Wives at $2950 and the 1619 Henry V at
$2350.” Wolf & Fleming record a
number of other important transactions including one gone awry when a liquored
up Clark, usually steady at the helm, over-indulged at a Rosenbach function by
writing a check for a Gutenberg Bible then in stock. When the fogged cleared and price settled in
Clark changed his mind and returned the book!
How and when De Ricci and Bartlett
began working on the book together is unclear, but as it progressed the
attention turned to finding a publisher. The primary choice was Mitchell Kennerley
(1878-1950), publisher, bookman, and wily director of the Anderson Galleries in
New York from 1916-1929. Kennerley via
his high profile auction house position and his private dealings was one of the
main players of the 1920s rare book world.
According to Wolf & Fleming, “De Ricci had an agreement with
Kennerley to publish his Book Collector’s
Guide on a fifty-fifty basis, but since the work was finished he had been
unable to get a word from him.” Wolf
& Fleming add, “De Ricci [wrote] that
[Rosenbach’s] friend Mitchell Kennerley was giving him a great deal of
trouble, ‘Prick MK in the loins and kick him a little lower down if no other
means of persuasion take effect’ . . . Would [Rosenbach] talk to him, or,
better still take over publication himself?”
De Ricci wrote to Bartlett on March
18, 1921, “Dr. R. will be back to the States on April 10th and will
either compel MK to publish or will take it himself. At any rate the book will be out by June 15th
and high time too.” De Ricci added a
postscript, “Dr. R. thinks MK has nothing against the book and that it is mere
slackness and overwork. Though
[Kennerley] not answering my last cable was pretty thick.”
A June 15, 1921 publication date was
optimistic and Rosenbach did indeed have to step in and take over publication
with Clark’s “generous assistance.” The
prospectus for the Guide says “Ready
Christmas 1921” although the earliest presentation copies date from March
1922.
It is telling of De Ricci’s
frustration that he makes no acknowledgement of Kennerley in the book’s preface. However, De Ricci does refer to an earlier
possible publisher before Rosenbach. He
writes, “I have received much invaluable assistance from the late George D.
Smith, who had hoped to be able to publish this Guide and who gave me on innumerable occasions the benefit of his
extensive knowledge of the American book-market.” Smith
(1870-1920) held the mantle of the greatest American bookseller prior to his
untimely death, after which Rosenbach assumed the title. Had he lived, the book may well have been a
George D. Smith imprint.
The letters at Yale from De Ricci to
Bartlett are filled with interesting book talk and gossip about the Britwell
sale in London, various dealers, bibliographical matters, primarily
Elizabethan, and mention of his wife and family. Bartlett spent time researching with De Ricci
in London in the summer of 1920 and he appears to have visited her in America. Specific to the Guide, the letters reveal that Bartlett received one-third of the
authors’ proceeds and De Ricci two-thirds.
De Ricci called it “our” book when corresponding with her. So why did she not make the title-page as
co-author as happened with her and Alfred Pollard with A Census of Shakespeare’s Plays in Quarto? It is a mystery unresolved. The correspondence makes no mention of the
issue.
Tidbits about the Guide’s sale and reception are scattered
through De Ricci’s letters. He writes on
May 16th, 1922, “I hear from Dr. R. that our book is selling
well. But I cannot understand that he
has not sent me a single review from America.
I have had charming articles in the London Times Lit. Suppl. and in the Glasgow Herald—Also in the
Athenaeum a review I have not seen.”
On Feb. 20, 1923, he writes, “I have
not yet received a word of account from [Rosenbach], altho’ my contract with
him bound him to submit every three months an account of copies sold. As agreed with you your share is reserved on
every copy sold and I will press the Dr. to get me a full and proper statement
in time before you sail for England.”
On April 1st, 1923, he
reports, “My dear Henrietta, Just a few lines to tell you that I have received
from Dr. Rosenbach $2,500 on account, for sale of copies of the Book Collector’s
guide. About half the edition has
sold. I enclose a cheque for $800 as a
first installment of the third of the produce coming to you.”
We find the last reference to the
book in a letter dated Dec. 6, 1925, “I believe that nearly 600 book
collector’s guides are now sold so I ought to be able to collect a little money
and share it with you. It is two years
since I myself received a cent. But I do
not think that there will be very much, possibly a couple hundred dollars,
possibly three hundred for your share.
But even that is better than nothing.”
This “better than nothing “ was
still quite a bit of money in the 1920s and the total author royalties
mentioned by De Ricci would certainly have made many later bibliographers /
biblio-writers envious. To have sold
over 600 copies in the first few years at quite stiff prices also indicates the
strong demand at the time for such a specialized title. One can conclude that from a sales
standpoint the Guide was a solid if
not spectacular success.
Despite
the death of George D. Smith and the Kennerley fiasco, Rosenbach as publisher
was serendipitous in retrospect. As Wolf
& Fleming write, “The Rosenbach’s could not afford not to publish it. For the
first time in a bibliographical compilation the entries immortalized great
American collectors, and almost without exception these were now Rosenbach
customers. The volume was dedicated to
Charles W. Clark, who had subsidized De Ricci’s work; throughout the pages
appeared the names of Huntington, Folger, Clawson, Widener, Pforzheimer, both
Clarks, Jones, and White. Better yet, it
was the documentation of the Doctor’s thesis—prices were on their way up. The work . . . is still in demand as the best
available record of the book market during the first two decades of the [20th]
century.”
Various
association copies of the work gathered in my own collecting lend a tactile
reality to the influence and interchange among the bookmen and women
involved. And without these books my
essay would never have come to fruition.
 | ||||
| The co-author's copy, inscribed by Rosenbach from he and De Ricci. Japan paper issue. The prospectus pictured above is presented to Bartlett from De Ricci. |
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| Presented to Beverly Chew, Golden Age Collector, Henrietta Bartlett's patron, and contributor. Japan paper issue. |
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| Presented to Jerome Kern whose 1929 auction overseen by Kennerley peaked the Golden Age. Japan paper issue. |
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| Presented by Charles W. Clark, the dedicatee and underwriter of the book, to the Pacific-Union Club in San Francisco, a private social club established in 1889. Japan paper issue. |
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| Inscribed to Arthur Swann, famed auctioneer and bookman. The date of the inscription coincides with a sale by Swann at the American Art Association of books from the library of William Andrews Clark. |
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| Inscribed by Rosenbach to Stan V. Henkels, legendary Philadelphia auctioneer and important mentor of Rosenbach. |
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| The healthy cost of the Guide reflected its perceived value to contemporary collectors |
Here is a link to a scanned copy of the book. Incidentally, one of the 100 on Japan paper, this example inscribed by Clark. The Book Collector's Guide
An example of De Ricci's provenance prowess are these scanned cards "made for the compilation of his unfinished Bibliotheca Britannica Manuscripta. This project was intended as a companion work to his Census of Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts in the United States and Canada,
published between 1935 and 1940. De Ricci's notes, compiled in
thirty-four boxes containing over 60,000 index cards and originally
bequeathed to the Institute for Historical Research in London, are
currently housed in the Senate House Library at the University of London." Scanned Cards with De Ricci's notes
The Guide to Henrietta Bartlett's Papers at Yale is worth perusing. Bartlett Papers
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