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Booksellers and Stereoviews

Scouring the world for bookseller ephemera for the American Book Trade Index, I’ve discovered stereoviews. I love ’em. Stereoviews are taken with a special camera which will produce two very similar images, when placed side by side in a special viewer, create a 3-D experience for the viewer. I really like ones featuring print shop interiors. Apparently these were very popular, beginning in the years following the Civil War until well in to the 20th Century. That’s a guess, as there are millions of these things still in every antique shop from here to anywhere, and private stashes are still being rediscovered. I remember going to an estate sale, I got some very nice WWII related books and stuff, and there were tens of thousands of stereoviews and an huge viewer thingy. I wish I could have bought them, but I was a broke and ignorant grad student at the time. She only wanted $300 by the time I got to the sale. Kinda like the time I passed on a hefty box of matchbooks. The newest ones were from the mid-1940s. Dumb. Back to the stereoviews at hand. It wasn’t only photographers and lithography companies producing and selling these images. I’ve found that booksellers also, at a minimum, sold these little delightful images. Now, I’ve learned that stereoview aficionados collect these images by several methods. By method of photography, only original prints, and content of images. These can be broken into predictable categories like location, trains, cowboys, early racing, ships, military, ooh-la-la (this is a paraphrase), and to my delight: occupational. In occupational categories one can find printers, paper mill inspectors, and booksellers. Lots of crossover collecting going on here, I’m sure. A few brave souls even collect stereoviews according to the back stamp. The first two images have big crisp labels added to the backs, which suggest a regular trade in these views. One featuring a view of the local marina, the other a shot from Yosemite National Park, another hot collecting area. The third is different on several accounts. It is stamped at the back with an ink hand stamp one would see inside books sold by dealers from early on down to today. The first view is an overall shot of the back, the second of the stamp in detail. I close with an image at the front of this interesting piece, which is the establishment of A. Burt and Co. with the proprietor and the Co. standing proudly in front. The seller theorized it was made as a give-away novelty judging by the age (1870s) and the overall “feel”. Oh, this image was like my earlier experiences… it got away from me too… Of course, larger images can be accessed by clicking any of these. Anyone know anything more concrete, or have other examples of booksellers selling stereoviews?

Mystery in Iowa

JHE Stelling, Bookbinder, Stationer, Printer and Blank Book Manufacturer had these labels made up, according to the seller, in the 1860s. I bought this particular example off everyone’s favorite online auction site. Boy was I suprised when it arrived in the mail. It’s HUGE! I mean, I was expecting the little labels you typically find stuck on an endpaper somewhere, under 1 inch in any direction. You know the type. The kind of thing usually seen over at Seven Roads Book Trade Label Gallery. This thing is displayed here at nearly life size. It’s HUGE! Anyway, my main concern is the history of the Stelling concern. Was Stelling at work in the 1860s? When did they arrive in Des Moines? Did they come from somewhere else, go anywhere else? Why is this label so big? Googling JHE Stelling did not reveal anything. Any ideas, guesses or knowing?

Printing like it’s 1907!

I’m way behind on my updates but, I’ve got some cool stuff to show off! As an explanation though, I’ve been busy at work. Last Friday was the 100th Anniversary of Oklahoma Statehood. If you live here, it’s a big deal. If you’re employed by the state historical society, it’s an even bigger deal. Anyway, I got to go up to Guthrie, Oklahoma, which was the capital in 1907, and spend the day running presses for folks at the State Capital Publishing Museum. I got to run a 100+ year old Chandler & Price (Old Style) and other stuff. Unfortunately for everyone around me, I want a real press now. Don’t tell my Baltimore #11, or my Nervine Press. They’re old biddies and get real jealous. This first photo is the front of the 1902 State Capital Publishing building. You can click on the photo for more info, if so inlcined. The bleachers are there for the parade and the Statehood proclimation because it was in this building the telegraph arrived that Theodore Roosevelt had signed Oklahoma into Statehood. I stood close by when the grandson of the man who ran out and hollered “Oklahoma is a State!”, did just as his grandfather had done 100 years ago. Then we shot our guns in the air and hollered some more. Oklahoma is a fun place to live. Back to the beginning.

This isn’t the museum I normally work at, so I was looking forward to a day out of the office, and having some fun. First thing, I cut paper. Typically, this isn’t a fun task, but when you get to use a 1910s Oswego 44″ blade cutter, it was extremely cool. This thing takes the whole body to operate, and can cut half a ream at a time! Also, I was told Oswegos were known for a bad design that did not ensure the blade locked in the up position after a cut. It had a nasty habit of dropping just as you would reach in for your fresh cut paper. I was told to always use a stick to get the paper out. See the stick in my hand? No, I’m not sticking my hand in there, I used the stick. I don’t care what it looks like. I’d already pulled the paper past the cutting point. If all this talk of vintage printing/ bookbinding equipment makes you “geek out” as bad as I do, here’s another shot of a non-public area of the museum: You should be able to click on any photo and get much larger versions. Believe me, there is a lot, lot, lot, lot more. Here’s another shot of me at the Oswego. A bit of another standing press and an old Hancock monster in the foreground:
I ended up having to dust off the Hancock and use it after the Oswego decided to become difficult. It got determined to take a finger or two, I decided not to part ways with any of me… so I switched. However, it was hard finding a sharpish spot on the Hancock blade to cut the paper. The other guy I was working with that day chimed “It’ll look like deckled edging”. Well… I guess so… Then we went down into the public area, where there’s a little mock up print shop with a cabinet of type, an imposing stone, a C&P Old Style, and a little proof press. I ran little bookmarks on the proof press while the other gent got our other material composed and locked up. We decided on a simple text: “I was in Guthrie Oklahoma November 16, 2007” with the state seal. Something like that. Anyway, I really liked the setup they have there for doing live printing demonstrations. It worked ok for two people to be in there working, but it would be better for one. Visitors can see on three sides, and see everything going on, like when the paper starts dropping out the bottom of the press, because I’m too busy talking to get them into the guide pins correctly. “Just let them go.” They’ve framed it out to look like a little building, with the framing providing a barrier for safety. The second picture gives you the other half. The imposing stone, the other half of the type cabinet, furniture and just the corner of the proof press. The whole area is probably not more than 10′ x 12′. At the front we have a simple little swing gate with long pins that drop through the floor to lock them each in place. We still had a toddler make a break for it inside, though. Maybe we need to put up chicken wire! So, that was it. We printed a lot of little sheets, and saw a lot of very nice folks, not only from Oklahoma, but Texas, Kansas, Wisconsin, Connecticut, China, Poland, Italy, Japan… it was a fun day. Did I remember to take home the couple samples I printed and set aside for myself? Of course not. If you’re interested in seeing more of the museum, including the press room, get yourself over to the Amalgamated Printers Association’s July 2007 Gallery Gab for a look at the museum this last summer. Lots of photos! More platen presses, Linotypes, old Miehles, Hickock pen ruler, etc. etc. etc. Enjoy!

Bookseller Barbers

If you’ve read the blog, hopefully your curiosity has been piqued with the question “How prevalent were bookseller/barbers?” I first learned of the phenomenon reading Fine Books & Collections Magazine. Editor Scott Brown has updated readers on bookseller barber developments via his blog. Well, here is the latest entry: Two 18th Century gentlemen of Edinburgh. One Hugh Ingles, printer and barber, at work from 1788-1811. Also, a William Thomson, bookseller and barber, at work from 1790-1802. Mr. Thomson also went about as wig-maker and hair dresser, later advertising as a bookseller only. I found these entries browsing the Scottish Book Trade Index. It certainly makes me curious about other strange combinations. Bookbinder/ butcher? Papermaker/ chandler? Stationer/ Ship’s Captain? With the development of an American Book Trade Index, who knows what we will find.

Book Trade Indexes

American book collectors, librarians, archivists and bibliographers need an American Book Trade Index. I’ve tried to get a skeleton database together to start answering the questions of what it should include, what kind of information will we want to be able to find, how should it be structured… etc. Being more of a printing press guy than a computer guy, I did not get far. I tired bribing friends. That helped, but again didn’t get far.

One thing that should be included in the American Book Trade Index [ABTI], is images. That is one feature lacking from the efforts I discuss below. I’ve started to collect trade cards, bookseller labels, advertising covers, from the book trades and gather images available online. All 1000+ images are now here, awaiting the ABTI, and spurring research and info sharing. Love it!

I’ve mentioned the British Book Trade Index [BBTI] before, but thought it was time to give them a review. The BBTI has been around since 1983, but online since 2002. Their purpose as stated at their website:

“BBTI is a database which aims to include brief biographical and trade details of all those who worked in the English and Welsh book trades up to 1851. There is a separate Scottish Book Trade Index at the National Library of Scotland, so BBTI includes only those Scottish book trade people who also traded in England or Wales at some point in their lives. BBTI includes not only printers, publishers and booksellers but also other related trades, such as stationers, papermakers, engravers, auctioneers, ink-makers and sellers of medicines, so that the book trade can be studied in the context of allied trades. BBTI is, however, only intended as an index to other sources of information. It is not intended to be a biographical dictionary of book-trade people.”

There is one difference between the BBTI and what I hope the ABTI can be: An encyclopedia of book-trade people. Entries will not only include when and where some one did business, but photos of the building, their trade cards, and a link to their digitized memoir at archive.org.
Apparently, in 2005, many “behind the scenes” updates to the BBTI website were finished, and more entries added. Another important update is the inclusion of Prof. John Feather’s Checklist of the English Provincial Book Trade before 1850: http://www.bbti.bham.ac.uk/Feather.asp. I’m working on a similar list for the US. Does one already exist somewhere? I thought so, but I can’t find one.

The British trail cools in 2005. There is this hopeful statement, however:

“The long-term future of BBTI is guaranteed by the commitment of both the University of Birmingham and the Arts and Humanities Data Service. ” It remains unclear if that means the BBTI will continue to exist as it is, or if it will be updated again once more money is available.

The British Book Trade Index has a lot of information, and seems to have filled in from many standard sources. However, the search capablities are fairly limited. Searches are only successful if you know what you’re searching for. If I wanted a list of all booksellers who issued tokens, this is nearly impossible. My queries were not anwered at the email address provided for questions. It seems abandoned, but what is left online is still useful in other respects.

The National Library of Scotland has compiled a Scottish Book Trade Index. From their website: “The Scottish Book Trade Index represents an index of printers, publishers, booksellers, bookbinders, printmakers, stationers and papermakers based in Scotland, from the beginnings of Scottish printing to ca. 1850. The Scottish Book Trade Index is very much a work in progress, and is periodically updated. Comments and suggestions for additions are always welcome.”

The Scottish entry is nice, but has no searching capability. You must know the name of the business or person you are searching for. Granted, that is often the only information you have, however, if I wanted all the book trades people in Perth, I’d have to go through each page and copy it out from there. Not very efficient.

Our third entry is from American shores: The Nineteenth-Century American Childrens Book Trade Directory, compiled by the good people at American Antiquarian Society in Worcester, Massachusetts. From their website:
“Based upon the unparalleled collection of Children’s Literature held at the American Antiquarian Society, this comprehensive directory contains 2,600 entries documenting the activity of individuals and firms involved in the manufacture and distribution of children’s books in the United States chiefly between 1821 and 1876.”

The ACBT Directory has a much more useful, fast search engine. One of my critiques is that they do not cite their sources. The BBTI and SBTI both have reference lists. However, for our purposes, this Directory will prove to be the most useful tool for an inclusive American Book Trade Index.

So, take a good look over these three amazing tools and think of how an American version should look, what kind of information it should contain, and how people would use it. In the mean time, get over to the ABTI group at Flickr and join in.

A real Indiana Jones day

If you’re like me and work in a museum and/or archaeology, Indiana Jones makes you roll your eyes a bit. But, being human, you are also swept away in the fun and adventure shouting along with Indy “THAT BELONGS IN A MUSEUM!” Especially being a kid born when I was. You may even say “Dang, I wish I was an archaeologist/ museum curator.” Then reality sets back in and… well, you have days like this.
Now, I’m fascinated by printing. Letterpress printing. It comes with being a fourth-degree bibliophile. My job at the museum allows me to explore some of my interests. I’ve wanted to put together a program for kids where they could print things themselves. Something simple, like a bookmark. You get the idea. Doing my part to engage kids with history and spread bibliophilia.
Last…, I don’t know. We’ll say it was last Thursday, one of the other curators comes to me with a great little tidbit: The heirs of a defunct newspaper were looking to divest themselves of stuff. Being a knowledgeable hand with the “black art” of printing, he was going down there Monday to see if the museum could use any of it for our collections. Knowing my interest in printing, he welcomed a “wish list” of stuff I could use to get my program off the ground. I was pumped. Friday rolls over and I find out he won’t be going, but was sending another lady down in his stead. Wonderful as she is, she doesn’t know much about printing. I threw a few photos and words together for her to know what I was wanting.
I fret all weekend and resolve: I’m going too, no matter what. Monday dawns, rainy and windy. A big cup of joe poured, we head out. We finally arrive at our destination: A rural town where if you’ve ever wondered what a Cadillac would look like if it was bred with a monster truck… I have a place for you! Also, if you are wanting a pet beagle, there seems to be an unlimited supply roaming the roads and highways in this town and the next one over.
The elderly daughter of the former editor greets us, leading us to the buildings where everything has been kept. The first building had a few galleys and some Linotype slugs. I grabbed a galley and move to carry it outside—- and step through the floor. I was fortunate to be on the ground floor and only went in several inches. I tromped ahead, stomping my way through the rotten floorboards and outside. Now, I’m a big boy, but literally wrecking a wooden floor was unexpected. To my credit, it was rotted out real bad.
The next building wasn’t bad. Concrete floor and a couple skylights made a world of difference. It wasn’t pitch black inside like the first. Several cases of type and a mid-1940s Vandercook. I jotted down the serial number of the Vandy and grabbed the wood type. I checked the other fonts and made some notes as to what lead was there. I was getting nervous. Was this it? Not what I had hoped. “Let me take to the newspaper office,” the old lady said.
The next building had metal sheets screwed to the front covering whatever windows used to face the street. The little old lady said, “Now a cat or two have been in here some, so there is an odor.” I bet you’re all thinking what I thought in that moment. If you’re not thinking what I was thinking, you’re a cat-lady. “Now, Daddy never let us in here. He worried we’d be crushed by something.” Perfect. She unlocked the door. As the door opened the building sighed a distinctly moist, warm feline puff into my cringing face.
It was just noon. Thoughts of lunch vanished in the drizzle. We took turns going in, closing the door, stepping clear, then opening the door for the next person. My partner from the museum had a camera, clinched jaw and set face. I could see the willpower being summoned to the top. It was not just a few cats. Several would have been a joy. It was more like dozens of feral cats have been undisturbed here for the better part of thirty years. Heaping mounds of decomposing cat poo oozed and crumbled everywhere. It was pitch black inside. The flashlights also revealed three linotypes, a couple melting pots. An uncounted number of type cases. Most of them against the walls along the perimeter of the large room. Nearly all sitting at unnatural angles, having fallen through the floor, some bursting their lead onto the floor. A few magnesium plates sat on the composing table. They were furry with corrosion. Worthless. As we moved through, trying our best not to touch anything, I worried about one of us slipping on the paper several inches deep on the floor, moist and soiled. Either on the paper, or whatever lie underneath. Mousy odors mingled up from beneath our steps.
We slunk around to the back of the shop, passing layout tables heaping with more and more you-know-what. The lady said her mother used to hand feed the paper into old the drum press when her father took over the paper in the mid-1950s. He ran the newspaper there until his death in the mid-1980s. The name in the cast iron press was so coated with ink and crud, I couldn’t make anything out except “New York”. Big help.
The drum press was old. Maybe seriously old. The dinosaur was pretty grungy but seemed complete. It was very dark in there and hard to tell. You can just make out a bit of the drum press in the shadows if you look at the big versions of some of these pics. There was also an old-style Chandler and Price, a new-style C&P, a paper cutter, and other stuff. By then I knew, we had to go. I knew the museum wouldn’t be interested in anything. It was too far gone. They should have called when he died and not waited another 25 years. Disappointed, we picked our way out. As I begin to slide back past the linotypes at the front, my unfortunate colleague points “Hey. Isn’t that, that?” I look around to see the pile of papers and poo she’s pointing to, seeing for the first time a cylinder and a handle poking out.
I climbed over, leaping with maybe a little joy. I knew exactly what it was. I must have been smiling ear to ear. I tipped the thing over, scattering the paper and … toppings off to reveal a Miles Nervine proof press.
Exactly what I showed my colleague that morning with the words “My lofty hope is to find one of these.” Dr. Miles invented a patent medicine and ran a program in the late 19th Century aimed at small-town newspapers. In exchange for one year of advertising in the paper, he would send you this neat little proof press. It’s very small, table top sized. It’s from the period I do most of my programs (the 1890s) and simple enough for even the youngest of kids to be able to use. It’s in nearly perfect shape. Just needs the slime under the bed cleaned off.
Here are a few photos that we got. Believe me, the photos do not do this building justice. She tried to keep the cat contributions to a minimum in the photos. However, it does capture the eery feeling I got going in. It didn’t take much imagination to see the lady running the drum press, the husband composing type, someone proofing a job.
 
So, if Mr. Spielberg, Lucas or Ford read this post, here is an idea for Indy 4: to match the horrors of the snakes in Raiders of the Lost Ark, the bugs of Temple of Doom, and the rats of Last Crusade, I offer: Leavings of a feral cat colony.

Update on Bookseller/ Barber

Well, today was a good day at my house. I got home from a *gross* experience (more on that later) to find a damp cardboard box on my stoop. Lo and behold, some very cheap books arrived! Lucky for me, they were all dry. They’re all ex-library, but I couldn’t pass up the prices. Nothing collectable, just solid reference type stuff. Sorry, but it’s still a secret where I got them as I haven’t bought everything I want just yet from the seller. They didn’t have very good descriptions, and of course no photos, but only one turned out to be a real dud. Not bad out of six or seven books.

One I’m looking forward to browsing is Historic California in Bookplates by Clare Ryan Talbot. I don’t have a very big collection of bookplates, but I love learning about them. I hope to have a couple made. Heck, I may even have a whack at doing it myself. Also got an early Madeline Stern book on Mrs. Frank Leslie. Also, Vol. 13 (1799-1800) of Charles Evans’ American Bibliography. This could be an extremely useful tool in the American Book Trade Index cause. I also got an index of Printers found in Evans. And, until archive.org uploads the rest of Evans, I’ll have to dig up copies of vols. 9-12. Also, I don’t think this index is the index from the set. Hmmm.

Ah, the update on Mr. Deming? He’s listed in Charles Evans’ American Bibliography, Vol. 13, (1799-1800) pg. 163.

“Sold wholesale and retail, by L. Deming, no.1 Market Square Corner, of Merchant’s Row, Boston.” Broadside 4to. Item 37772.

This places him another 30 years previous in Boston. It seems this guy sold books for 50+ years!

Barbers and Booksellers

In 1830, Leonard Deming not only sold books, stationary, ballads, songs and pamphlets, but wanted to let readers know he also gave haircuts.

According to the American Antiquarian Society (AAS), “Leonard Deming is listed at this address in Boston directories for 1829-1831.” On one of the songs he published at this location (“The Bloody Brother”) is this jolly jingle: “If you’d like a good song to dissipate care–pray call at L. Deming’s, no. 1, Market Square;–where you’ll find a collection the best in the city …” In all of the items in their collection from this period, no records at the AAS record the barbershop.
However, our good friends at the AAS did the leg-work and say later publications of Leonard Deming’s were issued imprinted from “[Boston] : Sold, by L. Deming, wholesale and retail, no. 62, Hanover Street, 2d door from Friend Street, Boston., [Deming was at this address from 1832 to 1837].” According to the AAS, Leonard Deming lived 1787-1853.

Looking for Mr. Deming through Google Books, I noticed an item dated 1851 coming from a Leonard Deming in Middlebury, VT. I wondered if it could be this same gent publishing in Boston from 1829-1837. Further digging revealed all, barbershop included. “[Boston] : Sold wholesale and retail, by Leonard Deming, at the sign of the barber’s pole, no. 61, Hanover Street, Boston, and Middlebury, Vt., [Leonard Deming was at this address from 1837 and 1840].” Emphasis mine, of course. He must have opened a branch office/shop in Middlebury sometime between 1837 and 1840, and by the 1850s Deming transferred his full efforts there. Why the move? I remember there was a terrible fire in Boston that gutted many bookseller and printing operations in the 19th Century. Was that during the late 1830s? Where did I read that? Also, is Deming buried in Middlebury, Vermont?

Through the fog a vague little photo begins to emerge. I’ve seen this odd combination before. The good folks over at Fine Books & Collections ran a photo of a stamp from another bookseller/ barber from an Arkansas book shop called Roy Bean’s Used Book Center and Barber Shop. That stamp includes a 5-digit zip code, which places Roy Bean’s in the latter half of the 1900s. Also, it is described as being found in a vintage paperback. See for yourself in the reader’s letters section toward the front of your July/August 2006 issue. Seeing another bookseller/barber got me curious how common this combination is. How long do bookseller-barbers go back? At least to 1830, I guess. Anyone know or heard of others?

Enjoy book history or Book Trade history? Check out the 1,000+ images related to the pre-1900 American Book Trade at the American Book Trade Index Flickr group. Help us grow a fun bibliographic tool.

Photo above is by permission of Philenor Rare Books. Book is currently listed on eBay here. Item number 190164124426, if the link breaks. I have no connection whatsoever with Philenor Rare Books and have recieved no compensation for posting their image here.

WPA October Library Poster

I love the month of October! The changing leaves, the cooler weather. How do we spell relief in Oklahoma? O-C-T-O-B-E-R. I grew up in Nebraska. There, it was typically Octo-brr-rrrrr. Confession: another big plus for me is College Football. I digress.

October seems to be a bookish month. Am I the only one who feels this way? I don’t know if it’s because school is in full swing, if the cooler weather slows us down, but it seems like more people read now than in the summer. Autumn makes me think of reading and libraries. I ran across some great WPA artists and thier posters somewhere on the internet. This little gem is probably my favorite. Does anyone know what “Bright Blue Weather” means? I have no idea, but this poster is just fantastic. I have some other very nice scans of WPA library related posters and will post them in the appropriate months. Pinky swear. Proof? Look below for one for September.

In other news, we at the American Book Trade Index group at Flickr, are now up and over 1000 images! Hooray! Also, please note: I said “we”. That’s right, there is now membership. Of course, I belong (who wouldn’t?), but more importantly, a gentleman with interests in the history of Michigan has come aboard.

So, let me extend the invitation again: Enjoy this most-bookish month and get in on the ground floor of what could be an amazing tool for researching the history of the book in America: The American Book Trade Index.

French and Richstein, booksellers, trade card

Isn’t this gorgeous? I love the layout, the image, the typography. It all comes together very nicely. I’ve seen it described as a trade card and a voucher. Isn’t it a bit long for a trade card? If it was a voucher of some kind, wouldn’t it say something to that effect, or give a value? Is there anything on the back? Is it supposed to look like currency? Anyway, trying to nail down some years on this little gem. The capitol dome was completed with the statue on top by 1869. Wikipedia says 1863, but photos on the Library of Congress page dated 1864 show an uncompleted dome. Also, the dome looks a little tall and skinny in this photo. That could just be the artist’s interpretation. I wonder when you could no longer drive your horse and buggy up to the front steps. A completed auction cites it to 1862, as part of a lot of souvenirs from DC from that year. In that case, the completed dome would be pure imagination, or based on another sketch.

Thanks to the Lincoln Log (http://www.thelincolnlog.org/view/1862/5) I know they were in business May 7, 1862, as President Abraham Lincoln (a documented bibliophile) ordered some books: “Library of the Executive Mansion” orders books from William F. Richstein, bookseller and dealer in foreign and American stationery, 278 Pennsylvania Ave. “1 set Hood’s Poems $6.50, 1 Goldsmiths Poems $5.00, 1 Homes of American Authors $6.00.” [Thomas Hood, Poems; Oliver Goldsmith, Poems; Homes of American Authors: Comprising Anecdotical, Personal, and Descriptive Sketches, by Various Writers . . ., New York, 1853.] Last item is paid for by President; others out of annual appropriation of $250 for books for White House per Benjamin B. French, Commissioner of Public Buildings.” Pg. 180. (Pratt, Harry E. The Personal Finances of Abraham Lincoln. Springfield, IL: The Abraham Lincoln Association, 1943.)

I wonder if Benjamin B. French is the same French of French & Richstein…