I 
 
 B 
 H648b 
 
 The Bookman Is 
 A Hummingbird 
 
 By J. Christian Bay 
 
L I E> RAFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 B 
 H648b 
 
 MINOR HISTORICAL SURVEY 
 
The Bookman Is A Hummingbird 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://archive.org/details/bookmanishummingOObayj 
 
Walter M. Hill 
 
The Bookman 
 Is A 
 
 Book Collecting in the Middle West 
 
 And 
 
 The House of Walter M. Hill 
 
 By 
 J. CHRISTIAN BAY 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR THE 
 
 FRIENDS OF THE TORCH PRESS 
 
 CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA, CHRISTMAS 
 
 NINETEEN FIFTY-TWO 
 
Four Hundred Copies Printed in December ; 
 
 Nineteen Fifty-two By The Torch Press 
 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
 
 Copyrighted 1952, by 
 J. Christian Bay 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 BY THE TORCH PRESS, CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA 
 
jjsdgl 
 
 
 r 
 
 WITH OUR CHRISTMAS GREETINGS 
 
 We had in mind to reprint with some com- 
 mentary the anonymous treatise, God Speed the 
 Plough, 1601, of which but two copies are known, 
 one in England, the other in America, and to offer 
 this almost unknown book to our friends, with our 
 Christmas wishes. 
 
 In July, however, two of our country's greatest 
 bookmen passed away. One was Dr. Rosenbach, 
 of Philadelphia, the other, Walter M. Hill in 
 Chicago. The house of Hill, hospitable to all 
 friends of the literary arts for nearly fifty years, 
 closed its doors some years ago. It will live in 
 memory for some time, because its influences 
 created many friendships and much pleasant 
 cheer; it also was instrumental in helping to build 
 up a number of very important collections of 
 books that never fade. The "Old General's" ac- 
 tivities fell within a most interesting period of 
 book collecting, bibliologic studies and library 
 growth. 
 
 So we agreed to defer the Plough. It will keep. 
 
 The said recent events remind us that many 
 bookmen during the first half of this century have 
 
helped make our region a center of enlightenment. 
 Times being what they are, personal memories 
 easily may dissolve. "Nser ilen er uv, er asken 
 kol," — in other words : When the fire is out, the 
 ashes are cold. 
 
 Ashes are not very conspicuous. There is an 
 ember light, bright enough to permit us to write 
 some memories, with a few hard facts injected. 
 We are nodding to our younger contemporaries 
 who have kindled their own flame and thus have 
 a capacity for visions wider than those of past 
 days. We share with them the best of our com- 
 mon traditions. 
 
 J. Christian Bay 
 The John Crerar Library 
 
 i*Y 
 
N. 
 
 O better likeness of a bookman was drawn 
 in poetic form than in Riley's dedicatory poem to 
 Young E. Allison: "The bookman, he's a hum- 
 ming-bird" even though most of those who enter- 
 tain bookish habits, present far different physical 
 characteristics. Walter Hill certainly was not 
 of the fluttery kind, nor were most of the persons 
 that acquired the habit of haunting his place of 
 business. And yet, the flitting of habitual bib- 
 liophiles from case to case, picking up a book 
 here, scanning and abandoning it, pushing on to 
 something else, making discoveries, hiding their 
 satisfaction over a good "find," pretending in- 
 difference and yet nervously alert and hopeful, 
 trusting luck and often finding it, dodging known 
 and unknown competitors — this indeed has much 
 in common with hummingbird or butterfly ways. 
 But there also were moths: The Caesars, Na- 
 poleons and other magnates who, as James Lane 
 Allen once put it, collect books against a fire, or 
 an auction. They would appear before or after 
 important sales or when surprised at something 
 that "the General" had concealed carefully in his 
 safe, to serve as a vertebra in a long-planned cata- 
 
 <9Y 
 
logue. Why had he not revealed that book be- 
 fore? The answer might be that he had thought 
 of taking it home or giving it away, — anyhow, 
 he did not care very much whether or not he 
 sold it. 
 
 Well, all right, very good. Somebody carried 
 it away, by common consent. But here was the 
 Whitall catalogue. What did he think this and 
 that and the other thing would bring? Long dis- 
 cussions followed, bids were recorded. Would he 
 attend the sale personally? He certainly would — 
 and he did, outwardly poised, mentally in a tur- 
 moil of conjecture, as if the Whitall sale were 
 mankind's last chance to obtain bookish gems. 
 For a fact, he bid in one-third of those Whitall 
 books, and even outbid himself in blind enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 Which proves that the General himself carried 
 a sprinkling of star-dust, fairy down and silver 
 scales on his wings. 
 
 Upon two personal achievements Walter Hill 
 on occasion would reflect with pride and satis- 
 faction. He won a race with George D. Smith, 
 King of American booksellers, in the auction 
 rooms, for Helyas, Knight of the Swan, a Caxton, 
 the only known copy on vellum, urgently wanted 
 by Mrs. Edith Rockefeller McCormick. The price 
 was $21,000 plus the ten percent commission. 
 
 iioy 
 
This indeed was a feat for a young bookman 
 recently established in business. 
 
 The other achievement was that he had made 
 the original, comparative collation of the Pick- 
 wick, the one and only, the never equalled Pick- 
 wick. He bought it for £180 and sold it for $850 
 under personal pressure. It was sold at the Lap- 
 ham sale for $1450, later for $3500 and once 
 again for $4600, and so on, until at last it came 
 to rest in the worthy hands of Mr. Owen D. 
 Young. 
 
 Intimate friends and patrons would be able to 
 credit Hill with many other feats and interesting 
 experiences growing out of zeal, ability, foresight 
 and courage, such as a bookman true to the best 
 traditions, will exemplify. 
 
 Walter Hill was born in Bristol on October 
 10, 1868. His ancestors came from Hereford- 
 shire, the history of which reveals interesting 
 archeologic data and agricultural achievements of 
 the highest order. Definitely a Roman Britisher, 
 he retained throughout life the cool individualism 
 of his national group, colored by the Puritan in- 
 tegrity of the Victorian age. Aloof but dependa- 
 ble, remote in some ways and yet with a heart of 
 wax, he had a wholesome capacity for friendship, 
 considered books in a large way, like Quaritch, 
 and thus might be called upon for cool counselor- 
 ship, which attracted some persons and made 
 
 in). 
 
others hesitate until they discovered the man's 
 invariable fairness. His toleration of fractious 
 spirits and innocent imposition will be remem- 
 bered by many. The few who witnessed his re- 
 actions to occasional knavery will recollect the 
 icy stolidity and the withering scorn with which 
 he would meet this, happily rare, defect. Very 
 amusing were some wholly unconscious manner- 
 isms of his ; he would pretend f orgetf ulness about 
 dates, prices, values, and names, in order to have 
 time to recall to memory what he knew as well 
 as anybody, and might pretend also to accept the 
 most barefaced prevarication as readily as would 
 a child. Courage he had abundantly in his busi- 
 ness ventures. Many were the occasions when he 
 would take a deep plunge at an auction without 
 regard to possible consequences — maybe to tease 
 Dr. R. or to administer a mild rebuke to somebody 
 who had an aversion to letting others live. 
 
 Dr. R. and Walter Hill both left us in the 
 month of July, 1952. Dr. R. was a scholar with 
 an extraordinary orientation in both bibliology 
 and business, while Hill, to put it briefly, through- 
 out his life learned by experience and disliked the 
 business end of his calling. Each, in his own way, 
 left an enviable reputation — and yet, with due 
 respect for Dr. R.'s extraordinary accomplish- 
 ments, Hill reaped for himself deep affection. 
 Between these two ranked James F. Drake and 
 
Lathrop C. Harper and Charles F. Goodspeed. 
 What if their cumulated knowledge of books 
 might have been preserved in some way and re- 
 corded! But, Mr. Harper would say, think of 
 Mr. Eames! And, librarians will say, each new 
 generation must save up knowledge by its own 
 efforts. 
 
 Walter Hill served four years of apprentice- 
 ship with Jeffries, the Bristol bookseller, one of 
 the men of the old school that might say, "We are 
 sorry to report that the copy you ordered was sold 
 when the order was received, but we have a slight- 
 ly rubbed copy which we can supply for two 
 shillings less." The boy saw and memorized titles. 
 
 Emigration is an irregularity. We cannot say 
 why Hill came to America as a youth of seventeen, 
 but presently he was engaged by J. W. Bouton in 
 New York and after some years went with Estes 
 and Lauriat in Boston, whereupon he joined the 
 staff of A. C. McClurg & Co. in Chicago. The 
 nineties were famous for many interesting social 
 phenomena, and even for a great financial so- 
 called depression — which, however, affected 
 capitalists less than the so-called rank and file of 
 our population. Intrinsically valuable books came 
 into demand. McClurg's "Saints' and Sinners' 
 Corner" flourished. Encouraged by a few well- 
 to-do collectors Walter Hill decided, as he once 
 jestingly put it, to "buy a cannon and start a war 
 
of his own," and accomplished this in 1899 with 
 a small stock of first editions and Kelmscott books 
 then rising in fame and favor, and with a capital 
 of five hundred Dollars, the savings of his young 
 wife. He opened a small office in the South-East 
 part of the Marshall Field square, two floors 
 above the newly established John Crerar Library. 
 There he and I met. He had in a newly issued 
 catalogue advertised a copy of Charles Fenno 
 Hoffman's Wild Scenes in the Forest and Prairie, 
 1843. Money was scarce among library assistants 
 in those days, and the book (a beautiful copy) 
 cost $8.00. I remarked that Arthur Clark had 
 catalogued one at $6.00. Promptly Hill flashed 
 out: "Then why don't you buy Clark's copy?" 
 I smiled and replied: "Because now that I've seen 
 it, I want yours." 
 
 I believe that for a while he farmed out some 
 general books to a book-shop across the street, 
 organized by Hayes (the President's son), Cooke 
 & Co. This store failed for the reason that the 
 stock actually was arranged according to the 
 Dewey Decimal Classification, but Hill contended 
 that the real reason lay in the fact that somebody 
 blundered after the fashion of famous Oily Gam- 
 mon, as he proved an expert in making funds 
 vanish. The shop, however, for a while enter- 
 tained as a clerk one of the greatest bookmen of 
 the world, a man entitled to the cognomen of 
 
Charles Aubrey, — if we may revert once more 
 to the nomenclature of Warren's Ten Thousand 
 a Year. 
 
 The house of Hill prospered from the outset. 
 Kelmscott books sold themselves and are still 
 moving about. Nobody ever reads them, but they 
 keep their endearing charms, even though modern 
 vellum bindings are nightmares. Catalogues were 
 printed and distributed. In nearly fifty years their 
 number reached about a hundred fifty. Nr. 2 
 contained 22, Nr. 3, 19 Kelmscotts (including 
 the Shelley on vellum). Nr. 11 (with a preface 
 by Wallace Rice) described a Robinson Crusoe in 
 the very finest state, a Vicar of Wakefield, im- 
 maculate, the three Keats and Lamb's Rosamund 
 Gray. Kipling and Stevenson began to attract at- 
 tention; a Child's Garden of Verses stood at $25, 
 a clean and fine copy of the New Arabian Nights, 
 although not even now a book to live with, was 
 marked $50. 
 
 With Chicago and the Middle Border develop- 
 ing quickly as a cultural center Hill did not face 
 much competition at the outset, although natural- 
 ly his Eastern colleagues tried to cover as large a 
 field as possible. One blow came to him, however, 
 in the early years, the loss of his intelligent and 
 accomplished wife. He never recovered all his 
 natural buoyancy, but consolation came in the 
 companionship of his daughter Margaret (later 
 
 ivy 
 
Mrs. Lawrence Montgomery) and, in time, in the 
 remarkable scholarly careers and the devotion of 
 two granddaughters. These, his family, always 
 were uppermost in his thoughts; even though for 
 years far away they protected him against being 
 lonesome, as a host of friends indeed kept him 
 cheerful. 
 
 But no man, especially when he builds up a use- 
 ful business and a reputation for personal and 
 professional integrity, can be considered separate 
 from his group. We therefore must review the 
 background against which Walter Hill built his 
 house in Chicago, and the needs and demands that 
 he was called upon to fill. 
 
 Private book collecting naturally began and 
 developed in Chicago and the Middle West much 
 as it did elsewhere, in an effort of some thoughtful 
 individuals to enlighten themselves and preserve 
 past and contemporary evidence sustaining records 
 of fact and memory. Long before the fire of 1871 
 a considerable mass of books, papers, and other 
 relics were assembled at the instance of the Chi- 
 cago Historical Society, and even after the great 
 fire had destroyed this harvest, a second gleaning, 
 not negligible, was possible. The preserving 
 forces of those days — the men of action and of 
 foresight who took a hand in public affairs — 
 earned much still unrecorded praise. Four of our 
 
governors are authors of very creditable histories 
 of this state, and many of our judges, our editors, 
 our bankers, and even our businessmen, proved 
 themselves most efficient protectors of records, 
 papers, letters, and other documents, which time 
 and again became essential for the purpose of crit- 
 ical historical studies. 
 
 It is quite a pleasure and far from idle for any- 
 body capable of analyzing biographical detail to 
 determine the literary preferences of those -of our 
 early settlers who paid attention to books. The 
 aggregate influence of the resultant enlightenment 
 had made it possible for Francis Browne (1843- 
 1913) to establish here, as early as 1880, the Dial, 
 a critical literary paper of the highest order, un- 
 equal ed anywhere for sound judgment and ana- 
 lytical acumen. This wholesome paper continued 
 uninterruptedly here in Chicago until 1918, 
 Browne having died in 1913, and then passed into 
 the hands of the Dial Publishing Company in 
 New York. The continuation compares with the 
 original Dial as the original Life with its contem- 
 porary namesake. I do not hesitate to assert most 
 emphatically that when the Dial moved out of 
 Chicago, the Western note in higher literary criti- 
 cism passed and was lost. The Chicago Record, 
 and the Daily News with Eugene Field as its 
 literary and bookish columnist, for years helped 
 
greatly to guide public opinion in the province of 
 books. 
 
 Much later, the same quality of criticism was 
 exemplified by Mr. Llewellyn Jones, in the Chi- 
 cago Evening Post. But, as in the case of Browne, 
 his work was a one-man effort. That excellent 
 paper ceased publication, and Mr. Jones went 
 East in search of a conservative field of work, and 
 found it. 
 
 Under the broad wing of Browne grew a zest 
 for good writing and publishing. Hamlin Gar- 
 land came out of Boston and preached his whole- 
 some gospel of provincial values. Dreiser flour- 
 ished his pen, preparatory to putting it in action, 
 and Henry Fuller bloomed out as a meticulous, 
 although not definitely localized, fictionist. Emer- 
 son Hough, the conscientious interpreter of our 
 golden period in Western life — the cattle-trail 
 days, the outlaw and rustler romances, and the 
 drama of land exploitation and the Indian out- 
 rages — worked among us, spreading Western 
 enlightenment with a prodigal hand. Publishers 
 arose out of the ranks of book lovers in the firms 
 of Stone and Kimball, Way and Williams, and 
 F. W. Schulte, and A. C. McClurg found firm 
 footing. Schulte clung exclusively and passion- 
 ately to his mid-west program, manifested by the 
 symbol of the sunflower which adorned the spine 
 of his books. 
 
As already indicated, it was Eugene Field who 
 first struck the note of pure and purposeful book 
 collecting in the literary field amid Chicago ama- 
 teurs of the fine arts. It implied only a personal 
 enthusiasm, the assertion of one's preference, pre- 
 paring ammunition for thought and fancy, with- 
 out social or bibliographical responsibilities. Chi- 
 cago libraries at that time, sixty years ago, were 
 in a state of adolescence or just coming into ex- 
 istence; we stood in this respect as did New York 
 before the coming of Lenox and Astor. The writer 
 remembers the day when our city became electri- 
 fied by the exhibition in McClurg's shop window 
 of a copy of David Copperfield inscribed on the 
 title-page by the author to his sister Letitia. The 
 book was marked "$750.00" — plainly a colossal 
 price for a book. People glared, newspapers made 
 comment, our modest amateurs de livres shud- 
 dered. Nevertheless, the book was absorbed and 
 went out of circulation for fifty years. It went to 
 Iowa. The ferment had begun to act. 
 
 Private book collecting in Chicago in those 
 times had been whimsically apostrophized by 
 occasional sinister allusions. One, aired by the 
 Boston Transcript, was to the effect that when a 
 certain Chicago capitalist died and his estate came 
 up for valuation, the appointments of his "li- 
 brary" had been assessed at $36,000, his books 
 
 \\9\ 
 
at $300. If this were true, it was not prophetic 
 of Chicago's future. 
 
 There was in the early nineties an approach to 
 a local (Western) revival in literature and art. It 
 implied the conscious assertion of the "Middle 
 Border," as Hamlin Garland termed the region 
 explored by himself and interpreted with whole- 
 some "veritism." Garland was supported in this 
 effort by Eugene and Roswell Field, Henry Fuller, 
 Lorado Taft, and other artists, fictionists, and 
 veritists, who believed that local landscapes, the 
 morning glow, and the sunset prophecy and re- 
 gional forms of life and struggle, would determine 
 the tones of Western art, satisfy the people of this 
 province, and divert their attention from the pale 
 blue tint of Eastern sesthetics. This naissance was 
 delayed for the same reason that operated in re- 
 moving sailing craft from our central lakes, and 
 to this day we cannot find in any Chicago library 
 a comprehensive collection of books typical of our 
 life on the Middle Border. They never until re- 
 cently attracted deserved academic consideration 
 except at the publication of my slight paper, 
 Scarce and Beautiful Imprints of Chicago ( 1922), 
 when Harvard and Yale began to check their 
 holdings against even my fragmentary enumera- 
 tion and to cover their lacunae. Meanwhile, 
 Theodore Robinson, of Elgin, and William Doug- 
 las, had quietly scanned the field and formed very 
 
w—— naaww^ 
 
 Little Dorrit and Arthur Clennam 
 Painting by Wm. Frith 
 
good collections of the best of the Chicago region, 
 but when they died their holdings were scattered. 
 I examined the collections of these men. Each, 
 although limited, would have been an ornament 
 to any institution interested in Western forms of 
 life. Each contained many of the best efforts of 
 early Chicago writers and middle Western his- 
 torians and humanists and, in addition, many 
 small and seemingly insignificant books which 
 helped to give tone to the symphony of Chicago. 
 
 The Caxton Club, the Chicago Literary Club, 
 and the Dofobs Club greatly helped to crystallize 
 taste and preference eamong Chicago bookmen. 
 They were forecast by Eugene Field, whose Love 
 Affairs of a Bibliomaniac and various "biblio- 
 sophic" poems acted as an invitation to a merry 
 dance around the altar of bookish gods and demi- 
 gods, the tune being struck from day to day for 
 many years by Field's unforgettable "Sharps and 
 Flats," even years after we had lost him. 
 
 Purposeful, systematic, sustained book collect- 
 ing selects anywhere its devotees without regard 
 to any other factor than the needs of the individ- 
 ual. Purchasing power, or wealth, is as incidental 
 in this respect as up-bringing and education. The 
 example of others may operate, and probably did 
 so here in Chicago, in whose life many more 
 thoughtful and enlightened persons entered than 
 our city commonly is credited with sustaining. 
 
 \2\\ 
 
These and the people in general, for many years 
 did not enjoy adequate public libraries as we 
 know them to-day. But books were needed — 
 first necessities, later perhaps also legitimate book- 
 ish luxuries — and so private libraries came into 
 being. 
 
 Probably the most dramatic figure among Chi- 
 cago amateurs was Charles Frederick Gunther 
 (1837-1920), literally a collector of collections. 
 He amassed antiques, historical furniture, paint- 
 ings and engravings, books and manuscripts, and a 
 variety of spectacular objects of curiosity suited 
 for exhibition in his place of business. His chief 
 interest centered upon Abraham Lincoln, and in 
 time his famous holdings in this and similar 
 fields — mainly letters and manuscripts — passed 
 into the hands of Oliver R. Barrett, who devel- 
 oped them enormously, not forgetful of the many 
 side-lights which are concerned with practically 
 all historical Lincoln associations. Gunther also 
 amassed numerous incunabula, most of which 
 after his death found a permanent resting place 
 in the Huntington Library. An exquisite twelfth- 
 century Cistercian antiphonary was acquired by 
 Dom Edmond M. Obrecht, of Gethsemane, Ken- 
 tucky. A complete copy, in exquisite condition, of 
 the Canozius Aristotle (Padua, 1472-74) rubri- 
 cated and illumined, went to William Clark, of 
 
San Mateo. It was found in a garage, in a packing 
 box, after Gunther's death. Many of his Ameri- 
 cana remained in Chicago. 
 
 Edward Everett Ayer (1841-1927) was unique 
 among Chicago bookmen by the wide views he 
 held not only of the necessary scope of his collect- 
 ing activities but also of his duties to posterity, 
 as dictated by his conscience. The story of his 
 life and influence has been told elaborately by 
 Lockwood and more briefly by myself. The Ayer 
 Collection of American historical sources in the 
 Newberry Library and the Ayer Ornithological 
 Collection in the Field Museum, are the principal 
 monuments to his energy, but above these results 
 of his services stands his motive of will and spirit. 
 Ayer naturally rejoiced in the success which met 
 his efforts as a businessman, a bookman and a 
 Maecenas to Museums, but these achievements 
 were wholly overshadowed by the consideration 
 that he himself had been singularly fortunate in 
 that his associates in the administration of the 
 Newberry Library, the Field Museum, and the 
 Art Institute, had encouraged him to follow his 
 ideals and to collect books and objects of art for 
 the ultimate benefit of the public. No collector 
 ever effaced himself more completely than Ayer 
 in this his task of happiness. He did not simply 
 contemplate extending the favor of gifts and en- 
 dowments; he considered himself favored by their 
 
acceptance. His Prescott is famous and also his 
 two "eyes" of New England. He embraced by his 
 sympathy our East and West equally, and his per- 
 sonal history is unique and a felicitous example. 
 
 The three Chicago institutions which benefited 
 by the enthusiasm of this great man responded 
 readily to his hopes and wishes. There is no better 
 bibliography of books on birds than John Todd 
 Zimmer's Catalogue of the Edward E. Ayer Orni- 
 thological Library, published by the Field Mu- 
 seum in 1926. But even when we wander into 
 comparatively remote libraries and museums here 
 and there, we may find some museum objects or 
 some needed collection of books, which has been 
 provided by Ayer. This is true of the North- 
 western Military and Naval Academy, of Geneva, 
 Illinois, where a general and reference collection 
 witness the generosity of the practical idealist, 
 whose summer home for many years stood in 
 close proximity to the school. 
 
 As a patron saint of the Newberry Library 
 Ayer was succeeded by Mr. William Brooks 
 Greenlee, eminent also as a scholar in the field of 
 Portuguese history and literature. 
 
 The example of Ayer as a patron of historical 
 sources affected his friend, George Manierre 
 ( 1845-1924), who specialized in local history and 
 our Civil War in a conservative way. He had 
 many important rarities but usually yielded to 
 
Ayer any unique pieces, such as it would be trea- 
 sonable to withhold from ultimate public use. 
 "George," Ayer would say time and again, "you 
 cannot help yielding that book to me. Remember, 
 my collection is intended for the children of our 
 generation." 
 
 Americana, especially Western history and ex- 
 ploration, also formed the vital care and interest 
 of George Paullin (1864-1933), a careful collec- 
 tor and a great enthusiast over the virtues of the 
 Mississippi Valley and her people, past and pres- 
 ent. He possessed some classics, such as John W. 
 Audubon's Illustrated Notes of an 'Expedition 
 through Mexico and California (1852), the in- 
 trouvable Scammon law reports, and very many 
 Chicago and other Illinois imprints interesting for 
 their contents. Paullin firmly believed that the 
 first Chicago imprint was a blank bank cheque, 
 but never succeeded in proving his point or in 
 locating the imprint. 
 
 Close to Ayer ranks Dr. Frank Wakeley Gun- 
 saulus (1856-1921), clergyman and author and 
 in his day a friend of all friends of books. Wheth- 
 er Dr. Gunsaulus was born with the instinct or 
 happened to be infected by the bacillus librorum 
 by contact with Frank Morris, never will be 
 known, but history and tradition bloomed and 
 bore fruit in his garden, and Field duly immor- 
 talized his bookish exploits and those of the Rev. 
 
Dr. Frank Bristol. The two, Gunsaulus and Bris- 
 tol, with Field hovering near as a benevolent 
 Mephisto, jointly resorted to all kinds of gay 
 bookish exploits before, during, and after the turn 
 of this century. All three were confessedly poor, 
 but the two "friars," as Field termed them, never- 
 theless not only amassed considerable libraries of 
 humana and humaniora but are credited with 
 large and valuable gifts to the Ryerson and other 
 libraries in Chicago. "Friar Gonsol" and "Friar 
 Francis" for years inspired the "Saints' and Sin- 
 ners' corner" in McClurg's bookstore on Wabash 
 Avenue, where bookish and literary men met and 
 compared notes in mutual sympathy and essayed 
 upon one another innocent and poetic pranks. 
 
 Cyrus Hall McCormick (1859-1936) began 
 late in life his excursion into the field of rare and 
 fundamental books in an effort to assemble some 
 of the most important original printed documents 
 on Virginia, our cardinal province. A small but 
 exceedingly choice collection, by which the Prince- 
 ton University Library, I believe, benefited, was 
 the first result. It includes several key pieces from 
 the Percy (Northumberland) sale, such as Robert 
 Rich's News from Virginia (1610), a copy of 
 which was registered in a Rosenbach sale cata- 
 logue in 1946 at $27,800. Rich took part in the 
 voyage of the Virginia Company's ship, The Sea- 
 
Venture, which went out in 1609 and was wrecked 
 at the Bermudas "where they [the crew] re- 
 mayned 42 weekes & builded two pynaces in which 
 they returned into Virginia." Mr. McCormick 
 had a quick and sure eye for genuine quality and 
 intrinsic values in books and took to study auction 
 catalogues with the same kind of attention that 
 he devoted to business, and in time assembled in 
 a quiet way also a respectable array of Western 
 source books, including a few very good manu- 
 scripts. Among these books was a copy of G. W. 
 Stipp's Western Miscellany, Xenia, Ohio, 1827. 
 In my "Fortune of Books" I said that to this book 
 attaches a tale. I shall tell it now. 
 
 Some time in the twenties William Douglas, 
 an ardent collector of pioneer period literature, 
 came to me with a parcel of books which he felt 
 that he must sell to cover some doctors' bills re- 
 sulting from illness in his family. The parcel con- 
 tained some nice things and a copy of Stipps' book 
 which once had been owned by James McBride, 
 the Ohio historian, and still bore McClurg's sale 
 price of years previously, $1.25. I happened to 
 know that at that time only two copies were 
 known, one complete, the other not. So I remarked 
 that there he had a very valuable book. He asked 
 how valuable, and on the spur of the moment I 
 answered: "Oh, a thousand Dollars." My reason 
 for this "snap" judgment was that I knew the 
 
 {2?y 
 
book contained reprints of John Bradford's Notes 
 on Kentucky, copied from the Kentucky Gazette, 
 extant in but one "run" in Lexington, Kentucky. 
 Thompson had described the book in his Ohio 
 bibliography. Until then, but few had ever seen 
 it. 
 
 Mr. Douglas naturally was surprised at my 
 estimate. I promptly sent the book to one of our 
 bookselling Caesars and asked him what he 
 thought of it. He replied that it looked very good 
 to him; was it for sale? I replied that it belonged 
 to a man in need of funds, and as no price records 
 existed, I conjectured it was worth a thousand 
 dollars. The reply was that he would go as far as 
 seven hundred fifty, which was encouraging. But 
 I made no reply; I turned the matter over to 
 Walter Hill. 
 
 Shortly afterward, Mr. Herschel V. Jones 
 passed through Chicago on his way from the Mayo 
 Clinic at Rochester. He invited Walter Hill and 
 myself to luncheon and asked what we knew 
 about a book called The Western Miscellany, 
 written by a man by the name of Stipp. While at 
 Rochester he had received a copy from the great 
 Mr. Caesar. "Now," said Jones, "I admit it is a 
 very important and scarce book. But when it 
 comes to values, I follow an instinct. In this case 
 I saw $1250, and I saw no more than that. But 
 
 «[28}> 
 
the price is $1750, and that is too much. So I 
 returned the book." 
 
 A few days later I had the Stipp returned to me, 
 and it was introduced to Mr. Cyrus H. McCor- 
 mick. Naturally he at first considered it a very 
 ordinary, even though perhaps interesting, local 
 imprint, so he was informed about its intrinsic 
 merits, viewed it more closely and inquired about 
 the price. His reaction was that a thousand dol- 
 lars was a "crazy" price. An argument followed, 
 and the special character of the matter was ex- 
 plained. This was not a case where Walter Hill 
 had purchased a book and held it for sale. It was 
 not a business affair. The full price would go to 
 the owner, who trusted expert advise. Finally 
 Mr. McCormick declared that if he were given 
 absolute proof that the valuation was fair and 
 square, he would accept the book and pay the 
 price. He then was told that it had been valued 
 at $1750 by a nationally known bookman and 
 offered for sale at that figure. He promptly paid 
 the thousand, which directly passed into the hands 
 of Mr. Douglas — who could not help regret that 
 the precious Stipp, after all, passed out of his 
 hands. If he had lived until 1932, he might have 
 obtained the excellent reprint critically edited by 
 John Wilson Townsend and published by the 
 Grabhorn Press in San Francisco. 
 
 This reprint has a title-page which ought to 
 
 {29y 
 
have earned for Edwin Grabhorn the title of Doc- 
 tor of Printing Laws. There are a few American 
 title pages indicative of the highest attainments 
 of taste and art in printing. Our classic example 
 of course is Franklin's Cato Major; another is De 
 Vinne's title in Eugene Field's With Trumpet and 
 Drum (1892), the large paper edition, 
 
 Deservedly respected as a sagacious bookman 
 was Mr. Patrick A. Valentine (1861-1916) an 
 ardent collector of modern English classics, famed 
 as the owner of the original manuscript of the 
 Sonnets from the Portuguese, and Kiplingiana. 
 
 The library of James W. Ellsworth (1849- 
 1925) reflected its owner's interest in fine print- 
 ing. It included a copy on paper of the Gutenberg 
 Bible and was ultimately sold and redistributed 
 under the hand of Dr. Rosenbach. 
 
 The collection known as the Printers' Library, 
 for many years kept as a unit in the Library of the 
 Chicago Historical Society, and which contained 
 much early Chicago material, pamphlets, broad- 
 sides, clippings &c., was one of the sources used 
 by Mr. Douglas C. McMurtrie in compiling his 
 very useful bibliography of early Chicago im- 
 prints (1927). In later years, our local bibliog- 
 raphy has been an object of special interest in our 
 libraries, especially the Newberry. 
 
 The John M. Wrenn collection, now part of 
 
 {MY 
 
the library of the University of Texas, and the 
 Wing Foundation, a department of the Newberry 
 Library, are so well known and have been de- 
 scribed so often that a bare mention of them 
 here will suffice. Col. Wrenn specialized, as the 
 printed catalog of his library shows, in British 
 literary classics. His taste and direction held 
 scholarship and comprehensive understanding. He 
 had the advice and cultivated the experience of 
 the abundantly and sufficiently maligned Thomas 
 B. Wise, without whose learning not even the 
 William T. Howe collection would approach the 
 character of a unit. 
 
 I once, to relieve my feelings, said to Walter 
 Hill that while counterfeiting is infamous, Wise, 
 after all, confined his efforts to pennyworths and 
 tokens. 
 
 He glared at me. "Yes," he said, "counterfeit- 
 ing Americana is the only crime that would stir 
 you up !" 
 
 John M. Wing for many years brought together 
 examples of classical and other fine printing and 
 illustration and, unlike Wrenn or Spoor, minded 
 the needs of the Newberry Library by establishing 
 there the foundation which carries his name. No 
 institution could fulfil the purpose of this be- 
 quest better than did the directors, librarians and 
 curators of the Newberry. 
 
 Horace Hawes Martin (1855-1923'), while not 
 
 {ny 
 
a confessed collector, although he gradually 
 brought together a "gentleman's library" of near- 
 ly 50,000 volumes, deserves mention because he 
 probably fulfilled better than most the function 
 of a bookman serving as a library trustee. His 
 knowledge of books, editions, and issues, his selec- 
 tive sense, and his prodigious memory in the field 
 of history and biography and of the coherence of 
 great books, were unusual if not unique among us. 
 Although Martin professed no scholarship except 
 in law, he should be remembered as a most em- 
 inent judge of those books by which is perpetuated 
 the knowledge of our essential traditions in sig- 
 nificant literary and historical work. Mr. Martin 
 extended this knowledge to editions, editors, criti- 
 cal apparatus, and commentary, and applied it 
 to the accretions of the Newberry Library as a 
 Director and a member of the book committee. 
 
 Akin in spirit to Dr. Gunsaulus was Dr. Otto 
 Leopold Schmidt (1863-1935), one of our most 
 useful citizens, a scholar in medicine, a devotee 
 to history, and an assiduous bookman. His library 
 of about 70,000 volumes reflected these interests. 
 But, apart from this, Dr. Schmidt for many years 
 made very considerable donations to our Chicago 
 libraries and many other institutions, usually im- 
 portant and expensive books and manuscripts. 
 Individual scholars and students rarely appealed 
 to him in vain; he also supported publications 
 
that would not pay for themselves. Incidental, as 
 all his efforts were, to his work in his medical 
 specialty, Dr. Schmidt contrived to serve on in- 
 numerable committees and boards involving our 
 public welfare. He always found time for such 
 service and for assigning uses for the books he 
 understood and loved. The bulk of his Americana 
 now may be found in the Chicago Historical 
 Society. His collection of literature on the arctic 
 and antarctic countries came to The John Crerar 
 Library, as did, by gift, much of his medical 
 research material. The University of Illinois also 
 had its share. Unlike Ayer, Dr. Schmidt did not 
 confessedly acquire his books and his enormous 
 holdings of manuscripts and autographs with a 
 view to their ultimate public use, except when he 
 definitely met the special needs or wishes of some 
 institution. He made his choice by instinct. 
 Wherever a volume bearing his bookplate turns 
 up in the future, this instinct will be verified, as 
 will the memory of a lovable, devoted champion 
 of true demophily remain in our civic annals. 
 
 Both Owen Franklin Aldis (1853-1925) and 
 Alfred Landon Baker (1859-1927), successful 
 men of affairs, manifested an interest in first edi- 
 tions of American and British authors and covered 
 the field comprehensively. The library of Aldis 
 fell to the share of Yale University, while that of 
 
 {ay 
 
Baker was scattered. None of these men collected 
 spectacularly, but each took a genuine interest in 
 the literary sources of our land, without leaning 
 toward those provincial preferences which, while 
 gratifying, may dull one's sense of national types 
 and trends. 
 
 Francis S. Peabody (1859-1922) came into 
 the fold of book collectors by accident — in tak- 
 ing over a private library as part of an estate. 
 The books had no special significance, but Pea- 
 body looked into them and presently found his 
 inspiration in Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure 
 Island. This was the beginning of a Stevenson 
 collection equaled by few and overshadowed not 
 even by that of John A. Spoor, which was built 
 up simultaneously. The books and pamphlets 
 were not difficult to obtain then; but Peabody 
 gradually amassed also a wealth of Stevenson 
 manuscripts and letters which at that time (1900- 
 1920) roused much competition among collectors, 
 although Penny Whistles, the chrysalis of A 
 Child's Garden of Verses, at no time has gone 
 begging for recognition. To Peabody's sorrow he 
 never obtained that resplendent gem "I'll sing you 
 a song of the tropical seas on board the old Equa- 
 tor" but his enthusiasm for Stevenson had merit- 
 ed it. 
 
 When Sir Sidney Colvin donated to an English 
 war relief committee, during the first world war, 
 
a large collection of very important and but partly 
 published autograph letters of Robert Louis 
 Stevenson, it was sold for £600, resold in England 
 for £800, and finally entered Chicago, the price 
 then having risen to $10,000, i.e. £2000. The 
 letters came in a mahogany box, which for weeks 
 reposed in my home — and under my bed at 
 night — while I transcribed the often very diffi- 
 cult chirography of R. L. S. for Mr. Peabody, at 
 his request. Many portions of these letters have 
 not been published even yet. 
 
 May I be indulged in adding that the transcrib- 
 ing of the more than two hundred pages of writ- 
 ing, the work of many nights, was performed as 
 an official service of the John Crerar Library! 
 But I enjoyed it greatly. 
 
 The diversified interests of Mrs. Harold L. 
 McCormick (1872-1932) were partly responsible 
 for the assembling of a private collection which 
 would have been a credit to any savant here or 
 in Europe. Philosophy and religion were repre- 
 sented not only by classics and fundamental re- 
 search material but also by the documents of cur- 
 rent discussions and ventilations of critical prob- 
 lems of modern interest. It is a pity that these 
 collections were scattered before anybody made 
 an attempt to analyze the many annotations 
 which the books carried. This would have enabled 
 somebody to trace the interests and the mental ac- 
 
tivities of a lady who not only exerted a strong 
 social influence but sustained an intellectual posi- 
 tion as a student possessed of a scientific method 
 and much original thought. Notable among Mrs. 
 McCormick's rare books were the Caxtons, which 
 she at one time thought necessary to her studies. 
 Her copies of the first Heliodorus and of Helyas 
 Knight of the Swan (London, 1512), the unique 
 copy on vellum used for producing the reprint in 
 1901, are milestones on the long road of book- 
 auction treks. 
 
 Although not a Chicago man, Herschel V. 
 Jones, of Minneapolis, takes a place in our group, 
 owing to his close affiliation here. Jones stands 
 out in the memory of American bookmen like a 
 caliph in fairyland; he had imagination, specula- 
 tive ability, a sure instinct about "condition," and 
 courage. A powerful, although often hidden, 
 figure in the New York and London auction- 
 rooms, he followed nobody's lead but plunged 
 into one field after another, now English and 
 American classics, then fine imprints or unica that 
 appealed to him all the more when they were 
 ardently pursued by others. Some of these col- 
 lections successively went to the auction table. 
 In time he found rest with classical Americana 
 and acquired from Walter Hill, by way of a 
 nucleus, the entire collection of Ambrose Cramer 
 
(1859-1927), a small but well-selected array of 
 our Colonial and later classics, all in what came 
 to be known as "Jones state," mostly uncut, spot- 
 less copies in contemporary bindings. He, unlike 
 Ayer, did not read his books, but was charmed as 
 he got them, and then proceeded to acquire more, 
 such as the "two eyes" of New England, the 
 Brereton and the Rosier, and fought valiantly 
 for the third eye, the Hamor. 
 
 Jones had funny ways, he would turn up in 
 Chicago and proclaim that he had made thirty- 
 five thousand dollars on a paper deal, so he would 
 better buy some Western books ; and then he pro- 
 ceeded to catechise. Which book would be a 
 real "stinger" ? As a Western man I was supposed 
 to know. I suggested Lewis F. Thomas and J. C. 
 Wild, The Valley of the Mississippi, St. Louis, 
 1841, printed for subscribers and issued in eight 
 parts, with fine lithographs. 
 
 "Well, how rare is it?" 
 
 Two complete copies and a fragment are known 
 and located. 
 
 "How many plates?" 
 
 About thirty. 
 
 "Paper covers or what?" 
 
 The eight parts in brown paper covers. None 
 gathered in original binding. 
 
 "What is it worth?" 
 
 Anything you have. 
 
Off he went to New York, and two weeks later 
 returned with a fine copy in the original state. 
 He refused to say where and how he obtained it, 
 but murder will out, and some years later the 
 secret dissolved in a queer coincidence. Up in 
 New England the copy had turned up in a garret, 
 after the fashion of Poe's Tamerlane. It was sold 
 in Boston, sold again in New York, and once 
 more sold — to L. C. Harper. The scale of prices 
 was : $ 1 00 — $350 — $500 — $ 1 500. These da- 
 ta were not supported by sworn statement, but 
 they cannot be far from fact ; anyway, Jones paid 
 the ultimate price. 
 
 Later on, as he exhausted in his way the West- 
 ern field, as not furnishing sufficient excitement 
 and rousing skirmish, he turned his attention to 
 the Colonial period and proved that copies of 
 great rarities would come forward at his beck and 
 call. The man being innocently vain, his Ameri- 
 cana later were described and facsimiles of title- 
 pages injected, this display being published as an 
 historical record of Jones's collecting energy. But 
 Walter Hill could be adamant. When Mr. Jones 
 got on his nerves, he took the Ham or away from 
 him — the much overrated Hamor, of which 
 twenty-two copies haunt our bivouacs of dead 
 books. 
 
 Once a London auction catalogue advertised 
 and printed a facsimile of an extraordinary rarity, 
 
Westward for Smelts. Mr. Hill telephoned to 
 me: Mr. Jones would like to know if that was a 
 source book desirable for his collection of Ameri- 
 cana; if so, how much ought he to bid? — I told 
 Hill that the book is a piece of facetious farcical 
 fancy, not nice at all but highly esteemed as early 
 British and unbelievably scarce, but far from 
 genteel. No bid was made. 
 
 Mr. Jones finally specialized on first editions 
 of first books by famous authors of England and 
 America. In this field he made considerable prog- 
 ress, as indeed he did with his excellent collections 
 of etchings, now preserved as a unit in the Minne- 
 apolis Institute of Arts. In this special and really 
 noble field he, for once, did not collect against an 
 auction. 
 
 Jones expected and hoped to discover a copy of 
 Cotton Mather's Early Piety (Boston, 1690), but 
 this excellent booklet still survives only by the 
 two London editions of 1689 (and later ones). 
 Still, he had the satisfaction of including in his 
 holdings the famous anonymous Account of the 
 Method and Success of Inoculating the Smallpox 
 in Boston (1722), in 1912 authenticated and 
 placed in its historical setting by Professor Kit- 
 tredge. When I asked his permission to have a 
 photostat copy of this made for the Crerar Li- 
 brary, Jones refused very politely, although I was 
 the one that informed him that the book was a 
 
 {i9y 
 
first Mather. He felt that such copying would 
 injure the value of rare books. 
 
 From Minneapolis we turn to Cincinnati. 
 
 One of the largest and in its day most enviable 
 private collections was that of Mr. W. T. H. 
 Howe, of Cincinnati. It extended all over the 
 field of English and American literature, espe- 
 cially the later two centuries, including books and 
 manuscripts. For many years it grew at the rate 
 of $5000 per month and more, and was increased 
 constantly by purchases at auctions at home and 
 in London. From Lamb to the post- Victorians it 
 formed an enormous aggregation, as it did for the 
 period between the early nineteenth century in our 
 own country and the later realism. A Jane Eyre 
 certainly is a monument, but with the original 
 autograph dedication (of the second edition) to 
 Thackeray inserted, it becomes unique. The Ebb 
 Tide manuscript in two parts, one in Stevenson's 
 handwriting on foolscap sheets, likewise has a 
 world-wide literary significance, as well as Ten- 
 nyson's personal copies of his demure books, one 
 inscribed, after a private reading, to the Brown- 
 ings. 
 
 Mr. Howe in his later years entertained with 
 lavish hospitality a number of authors at his home, 
 "Freelands," in Kentucky, close to Cincinnati. 
 For some years he was in the habit of inviting 
 
 <{40)* 
 
Tennyson . Autograph 
 
authors, librarians and bookmen generally, to par- 
 ties given on some occasion, real or imaginary. 
 Once the writer accepted such an invitation and, 
 after an evening's discussion of books and authors 
 and a short night's rest, was left alone in the 
 great house with instructions to prepare a lecture 
 on the "Athens of the West," to be given before 
 an audience at luncheon in town. As a matter of 
 fact, the assignment was not a difficult one, for 
 Cincinnati possesses plenty of literary history. 
 The audience applauded my mediocre improvisa- 
 tion. 
 
 Padraic Colum, E. V. Lucas and James Stephens 
 stayed with Howe for longer or shorter periods, 
 and John Galsworthy and his gentle, hearty wife 
 twice were guests of honor there. Howe would 
 dearly have liked to own the manuscripts of the 
 Forsyte Saga; what he did obtain, and which 
 anybody would even pay a fee merely to look 
 at, was the manuscript of Memories, the biog- 
 raphy of a little dog about which Mrs. Galsworthy 
 said that they had had many dogs, but only one 
 dog. 
 
 Mr. Howe liked to do things with masterful 
 gestures. Once, in 1930, he printed privately 
 Two Essays on Conrad, by Galsworthy, with fine 
 illustrations. There were ninety three copies. 
 Fifty of these were taken by Howe's friends at 
 $100 each, and he had a way of making them do 
 
it. The money was transferred to the author by 
 way of royalties. The book contains a four-color 
 reproduction of a portrait of Galsworthy, painted 
 by his young and gifted relative, R. H. Sauter. 
 It is not only a speaking likeness, it is almost 
 pathetic in its perfection, as we recall the man's 
 living presence. 
 
 Howe failed to obtain the Tristam Shandy in 
 original boards, uncut. Elsewise, as regards books, 
 he obtained what he wanted. Instinctively gen- 
 erous, of Napoleonic inclinations, appreciative of 
 fine and genuine, authentic relics of the world's 
 great artists, from the mircoscopic manuscripts of 
 Charlotte Bronte to Revere silver, he passed away 
 with sad suddenness. Perhaps he was but mod- 
 erately happy, but Fortune favored him greatly 
 while he lived and even more after he left us, in 
 that his collections of books for the greater part 
 found their deserved resting place in the New 
 York Public Library, due to the generosity of a 
 local Maecenas and the foresight of one of our 
 great bookmen. 
 
 And then we come to another outsider, Luther 
 Albertus Brewer (1858-1933), of Cedar Rapids, 
 Iowa. A true, loyal supporter of all constructive 
 forces in mankind, he would bring good cheer to 
 the dullest crowd and warmth to a chilled room. 
 Founder of The Torch Press, for years he printed 
 
the well known books issued by the Bibliophile 
 Society of Boston. For years, again, he wrote 
 the Christmas books distributed by The Torch 
 Press. Searching for a field in which he might 
 hope to accumulate not only books as books but a 
 coherent group, he encouraged himself to explore 
 Leigh Hunt and his circle. For nearly a half cen- 
 tury he surprised himself and others by the scope 
 involved in this exploration, because Leigh Hunt's 
 associations extended all the way from Lamb and 
 Keats and Shelley to the Brownings. In The Torch 
 Press Christmas book of 1933 — the first after 
 the long series written or edited by Brewer him- 
 self, and in the preface to his Leigh Hunt bibliog- 
 raphy (1932), I have told the story of Brewer's 
 literary life, in which Walter Hill was as im- 
 portant a force as anybody. Mr. Brewer's collec- 
 tion, as it now is preserved in the library of the 
 University of Iowa, is almost fabulous in its wide 
 ramifications and in its lateral span, quite apart 
 from the main subject. That such a mass of letters 
 and manuscripts in such profusion should still be 
 available in this century, is a miracle. More than 
 most other private collections which I have seen 
 does this period-collection show what a private 
 individual can accomplish, that no public institu- 
 tion or library, with its manifold interests and 
 duties, ordinarily can do, — and the importance 
 of protecting coherent units from being scattered. 
 
 <^y 
 
Mr. Brewer's Christmas books are classics in 
 their way. His documentary elucidation of the 
 Skimpole caricature in Dickens' Bleak House, and 
 the reactions (now, quite a hundred years after- 
 ward, worrying the friends of Dickens' muse) 
 will be long remembered. 
 
 Keats' Endymion, inscribed on the title-page 
 by the poet to Leigh Hunt and for years the prop- 
 erty of Earl Rosebery, would have been an orna- 
 ment to Brewer's library. 
 
 I treasure the memory of my friend Luther 
 printing, on a challenge, for me the Gettysburg 
 Speech, one copy only ! Two copies actually were 
 printed and bound in full crushed red morocco. 
 Brewer kept one, but years later I discovered, 
 and absorbed, the other. 
 
 The collection formed during a period of thirty 
 years by John Alden Spoor, railroad man and 
 capitalist, covered most of the British literary 
 lights from Lamb to Kipling. His Lamb collec- 
 tion, which formed the basis of Livingston's bib- 
 liography of this poet, probably was unique in 
 its completeness. His Keats, Tennyson, and Kip- 
 ling groups lacked but few outstanding pieces. 
 For Dickens he cared little; but, being tempera- 
 mentally close to Thackeray, he covered this au- 
 thor with great zeal. He possessed that copy of 
 The History of Pendennis which the author in- 
 scribed to his physician, Dr. Elliotson, to whom 
 
 -{44)- 
 
the book also was dedicated. Thackeray had been 
 very ill while at work on Pendennis, and con- 
 sidered himself duly indebted to his physician for 
 restoring his health and perhaps saving his life. 
 It was this identical copy which Harry Elkins 
 Widener, having himself missed the opportunity 
 of buying it, was very eager to obtain, offering 
 even to quadruple the original price. But Spoor 
 declined to part with this book. It went to the 
 auction table, was absorbed for $2,500 by W. T. 
 H. Howe, and so at last came to rest in the New 
 York Public Library. Spoor's library, instead of 
 being given, as would seem natural, to some 
 Chicago institution, suffered the sad fate of being 
 buried for about twelve years in a Chicago bank 
 vault, to await a change of the financial tempera- 
 ture. The rise never came. Many of the books, 
 meanwhile, had lost financial and speculative 
 caste, and their provenance was indifferent — a 
 sad fate for a collection assembled with brilliant 
 zeal, exquisite taste and sustained conviction. 
 
 In a different way, gentle Chester H. Thordar- 
 son (1867(2) -1945) devoted many years and a 
 unique ingenuity in assembling what probably 
 constitutes the most comprehensive collection of 
 early sources of science and technology in any part 
 of our country. Having elsewhere {Papers of the 
 Bibliographical Society of America, 23(1929); 
 
and in my The Fortune of Books (1941), 105- 
 121, and see also an excellent account by Ralph 
 Hagedorn, in the Papers of the Bibl. Soc. of 
 Amer. 44(1950)) described and commented upon 
 this exquisite, carefully selected unit, the writer 
 can record here only his deep admiration of the 
 confessedly unlearned scholarship responsible for 
 this collection of historically fundamental books 
 in pure and applied science. The Thordarson col- 
 lection numbers about 25,000 pieces, the larger 
 number having been critically studied and con- 
 sidered by the owner, who was able to rest one 
 hand on Chaucer and the other on Tyndall or Dar- 
 win or on some reminiscence, or one of the Ice- 
 landic classics, outline the connection and draw 
 the conclusion about the related basic inspiration; 
 and from empiric conclusion athwart the ages to 
 experimentation and deduction. Chester H. Thor- 
 darson was a philosopher and — quite apart from 
 his inventive talents, — the most expert inter- 
 preter of books within the writer's experience. 
 He had the rare gift of seeing the electric current. 
 With only a few years of intermittent schooling 
 in childhood, young Ella Wheeler Wilcox being 
 his teacher, he read and thought and combined 
 observations of the fine forces, and made inven- 
 tions, and built intricate machinery, until contem- 
 poraries named him the Nicola Tesla of America. 
 His precious books proved his inspired theses 
 
about life and movement without dominating his 
 thoughts. In my little book, The Spring in the 
 Wilderness, I have recounted the main events in 
 his life and indicated their coherence. The last 
 thing I was privileged to do was to convince the 
 authorities of the University of Wisconsin, after 
 Thordarson had left us, that they would serve 
 countless future generations by acquiring the li- 
 brary of the old sage of Rocky Island. They did. 
 Thordarson's magnificent copy of the imperial 
 folio Audubon's Birds of America was discovered 
 by Walter Hill in Chicago about 1910. Two 
 ladies, the owners, had been offered two hundred 
 dollars for it. Hill bought it for three thousand. 
 About fifteen years later it was rebound by Riviere 
 in full morocco at the expense of a similar amount. 
 
 Private Chicago collections of relatively smaller 
 scope naturally have been numerous. Each person 
 seeks what he needs or wants; the more limited 
 his choice, the more likely is the result to be rela- 
 tively complete. Several medical men deserve 
 mention. Dr. Mortimer Frank (1874-1919) as- 
 sembled a very good collection in historical medi- 
 cine, notably illustrated works, which served as 
 material for his translation (really an elabora- 
 tion) of Choulant's History of Anatomical Illus- 
 tration (Chicago, 1920). Frank's collection was 
 
 \A7\ 
 
donated as a unit to the University of Chicago. 
 It was built up by Walter Hill. 
 
 Dr. Robert Sonnenschein (1879-1939) also 
 gave much attention to medical history and 
 brought together about two thousand portraits of 
 scientists, physicians, and inventors — in engrav- 
 ing, mezzotint, copper, steel and woodcut. This 
 collection covers older as well as later periods, and 
 most of it had been thoroughly studied by the 
 owner before it was transferred, after his death, 
 to The John Crerar Library, with a very fine col- 
 lection of early medical classics, by donation. 
 
 The Crerar Library brings to mind the early 
 activities of Dr. Nicholas Senn, literally a collec- 
 tor of medical book collections. He acquired, first 
 for his own use, afterwards for the Newberry Li- 
 brary, the private libraries of Drs. Meissner and 
 Baum (rich in medical classics of early days), 
 parts of the DuBois Reymond library, and con- 
 siderable sections of the private collections of 
 Helmholz, Virchow, and others. In 1907 these 
 holdings were transferred to the Crerar Library 
 by gift, and the regular Newberry medical collec- 
 tions, originally purchased, were then sold to the 
 Crerar as a unit. This library, in later years as 
 formerly, received by gift or bequest many other 
 units complementing its holdings in science and 
 Medicine, as well as numerous individual books 
 and sets of periodicals. The latest is the mag- 
 
nificent collection, including historical and clini- 
 cal and bibliographical apparatus, of international 
 scope, on the specific subject of diseases of chil- 
 dren, the special field of its owner and donor, Dr. 
 Clifford G. Grulee. 
 
 Walter Hill had a considerable share in the 
 development of the LeRoy Crummer collection of 
 historical Medicine, now in the University of 
 Michigan. Crummer's $5,000 treasure of fugitive 
 anatomical sheets cost him twenty dollars. 
 
 In conclusion, I am in memory approaching the 
 entrance of an Evanston mansion about forty 
 years ago. The door opens, and several young per- 
 sons — girls in their teens — are leaving. They 
 whisper among themselves and look impressed 
 with some experience, almost as if they came from 
 a grand party. 
 
 These children had been entertained for an hour 
 or more by one of our most renowned collectors 
 of great and famous books, William Smith Ma- 
 son, who specialized upon Benj amin Franklin and 
 pertinent early sources and documents of our 
 national history. Mason differed from most other 
 Chicago bookmen in his readiness to share his 
 knowledge, enthusiasm, and experience with any- 
 one that showed an interest. He would meet a 
 party of high-school students with as much gen- 
 uine concern as he might be expected to bestow 
 
 {49Y 
 
upon some learned historian or some visiting bib- 
 liographer. His collections were grand in scope, 
 grander perhaps than even Mr. Ayer's, a potential 
 treasure anywhere, and at last a real treasure in 
 the possession of Yale University, donated by the 
 owner. His efforts stand out as a great accom- 
 plishment, even if it remains true that wealth 
 will pave the way to many things; but Yale in- 
 deed will be fortunate if the Mason Collection 
 retains the atmosphere and spirit which its master 
 infused into it while it was under his personal 
 care and supervision in the mansion in Evanston. 
 Here scholars were welcomed and even children 
 given serious and thoughtful lessons, while bib- 
 liographical problems received attention as close 
 as did great events and national problems of past 
 times. 
 
 Was this a remote inheritance or a simple in- 
 spiration? Probably both. Probably also a sur- 
 vival of true Western hospitality. Do great books 
 speak through their admirers? Assuredly! Dante, 
 I believe, told us that "lingua est consequentia 
 rerum." So are books. They speak when opened. 
 
 If there be a logical corollary to these sketchy 
 traits of bookish activities in Chicago, it is this: 
 first the gleaning of the collector; then the harvest 
 by the librarian; and finally, the pragmatic philos- 
 ophy and the pedagogics of the art, knowledge, 
 profession, and skill which validate and humanize 
 
the motives and purpose of action through critical 
 reading. 
 
 And in final conclusion : While library authori- 
 ties and booksellers naturally must work in amia- 
 ble concert, no librarian can possibly spare enough 
 time to haunt book shops, "talk" books and learn 
 from this milieu. And yet, even by casual visits, 
 such as mine at Walter Hill's, observant persons 
 may learn much. A glimpse, a reference, a casual 
 remark, may yield useful knowledge. I saw in 
 Hill's shop thousands of books and learned thou- 
 sands of facts about them, and, with old Ned, I 
 can truly say: "Nothing that I have ever seen is 
 forgotten." 
 
 My most exciting book shop experience else- 
 where was to examine a number of bound volumes 
 of pamphlets in the hope of finding some early 
 railroad reports for Crerar, and finding some — 
 but missing a copy of The Murders in the Rue 
 Morgue (without the covers). But I was not sorry 
 to miss it. 
 
 Our respective sympathies and antipathies were 
 a source of much pleasant banter and "joshing" 
 in the group that met at Hill's. And of serious 
 discourse. 
 
 There came Austin J. Cross, the book-mending 
 wizard, who once split a sheet of tissue paper, and 
 was a comfort to many great bookmen and li- 
 
 £&■ 
 
brarians East and West. There was that hand- 
 some bibliologist, Vincent Starrett, who rose from 
 a reportership on the "Daily News" to authorita- 
 tive authorship. Hill published his books on Am- 
 brose Bierce and Arthur Machen and his ex- 
 quisite gem The Unique Hamlet. Roswell Field 
 came and went before my time. There was Less- 
 ing Rosenthal, the "cunctator," who saved up fine 
 modern printing, and his jovial friend Joseph 
 Schaffner, and the meticulous Lepunsky, also 
 keen on good printing, — and Arnold Shircliffe, 
 Chicago's foremost restaurateur, who collected 
 menus, lectured on foods in colleges and univer- 
 sities, a classical scholar and still the author of a 
 monumental work on salads, — he left us in 
 September. 
 
 And Thordarson would drop in. Well, well, 
 there was Shakespeare's Poems of 1640, "a nice 
 corner-stone for my collection, a fine book, eh, 
 Mr. Bay, hm, hm, hm'?" 
 
 In a corner often was enthroned Dr. Wilfrid 
 Osgood, of the Field Museum, enveloped in an 
 aura of judicious and constructive meditation, 
 while Llewellyn Jones gingerly passed his sensi- 
 tive fingers over the new books. 
 
 Mr. Spoor, majestic, might stalk in and inquire 
 about the Shelley letter on which he had made a 
 bid at a distant auction. A magnate — on this 
 occasion irked by Shelley's handwriting and a 
 
 ivy 
 
couple of quotations in Greek, which he ordered 
 me to decipher. What business did that fellow 
 have to make quotations in Greek? 
 
 "Ask Bay," said Hill. "He hates Shelley like 
 poison." And Spoor stared at me, but smiled. 
 The smile improved his expression. 
 
 We had much fun over my instinctive dislikes. 
 It is true that I dislike Shelley as a bounder and 
 a false prophet ; that I looked askance at Poe and 
 Whitman, and did not care about George Moore, 
 with his "limited" editions of a thousand copies, 
 and had other mental defects. But Leslie Ander- 
 son agreed with me — good Leslie, who was for 
 forty years the majordomus and the financial con- 
 science of the place, yet never took to but one 
 book, Nicholas Nickleby. 
 
 But I liked very much the Flower in the cran- 
 nied wall in Tennyson's handwriting on Farring- 
 ford stationery, and Stevenson's letter about his 
 feelings after reading The Christmas Carol. 
 
 I often, in private, addressed Hill as Mr. 
 Cheeryble, and many will agree that it was appro- 
 priate. Charles or Ned, either of them. 
 
 As the years crowded in upon him, there were 
 many things he would like to do, having missed 
 them in his younger, strenuous days. One was to 
 take a look at the original manuscript of Gray's 
 Elegy. He attained this. But he never found the 
 manuscript of Stevenson's Yll sing you a song. 
 
Nor did he go into the Boston Atheneum and 
 see the copy in boards, uncut, of the Williams- 
 burg Filson's Kentucky — with the autograph of 
 George Washington on the title-page. 
 
 A few rewards came to him, however. One left 
 him pondering on ethical principles. Otherwise 
 professional ethics bloomed in his garden. At 
 auctions he invariably stood by the books that he 
 had sold, and he duly bid up to the amount of his 
 prices, whether or not be wanted these items. But 
 then the following situation arose. One of his 
 patrons died, a hard man, overbearing and dicta- 
 torial, always ready to take every advantage. His 
 collection later landed in the auction rooms. 
 Walter Hill, with many other bookmen, scanned 
 the books before the sale. The lot included a set 
 of Dickens' Christmas books, first editions, in fine 
 condition. Hill bid it in at a moderate price, but 
 when he examined it at home, he discovered that 
 one of the volumes bore an autograph inscription 
 by Dickens, dedicating the copy to Walter Savage 
 Landor. This had passed unnoticed every func- 
 tioning authority and dozens, perhaps hundreds, 
 of keen and observant persons. — Now, what was 
 to be done*? It made a difference in value of 
 $1,200. 
 
 I saw the book and looked at the inscription. 
 The question was beyond my poor faculties. 
 Finally I blurted out: "Well, I personally don't 
 
 «[54}> 
 
care a straw for Walter Savage Landor. The book 
 is of little consequence." 
 
 The old gentleman glared. "Yes," he said, "I 
 knew you would say something like that. Did 
 you look at the book plate?" 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 He put the set away. 
 
 I never learned what he did about it. But 
 nobody knowing him well will deny that the old 
 General deserved a windfall. 
 
 i»Y 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 B.H648B C001 
 
 THE BOOKMAN IS A HUMMINGBIRD CEDAR RAPID 
 
 3 0112 025406569