Notable Bookseller Catalogue: The Rosenbach Company. THE SEA (1938)

 

Harrison Horblit's Annotated Copy

The Rosenbach Company. THE SEA: BOOKS AND MANUSCRIPTS ON THE ART OF NAVIGATION, GEOGRAPHY, NAVAL HISTORY, SHIPBUILDING, VOYAGES, SHIPWRECKS, MATHEMATICS, INCLUDING ATLASES, MAPS AND CHARTS. Philadelphia: The Rosenbach Company, 1938. xi 224 p. 837 items offered. Large 8vo. Blue printed wrappers.

Ownership signature of Harrison D. Horblit (1912-1988) with his annotations and notes throughout.

One of the finest subject catalogues issued by the Rosenbach Company. Some of Horblit’s earliest important acquisitions were from this catalogue (see below).

The anonymous foreword states, “The present catalogue is of a collection of manuscripts and books relating to the Sea, showing the development of geography and the science of navigation from the classical works of Pomponius Mela, Solinus and Ptolemy and the hazardous astronomical guides of ancient times down to the highly practical works of our own day.” The foreword goes on to detail many outstanding items from the collection and concludes, “This catalogue is a milestone in the history of book-selling, containing much unpublished material and the most important collection of books relating to the sea and the history of navigation ever offered for sale.”

The catalogue was ahead of its time in terms of subject and immediate orders, but this benefited the ground-breaking collector Horblit, who would become a steady, important customer of Rosenbach. Wolf & Fleming record in Rosenbach (1960), “There was a new wave of young collectors, attracted by the moderate prices asked for books of which they had special knowledge. Harrison Horblit, a textile manufacturer and yachtsman with a real flair for significant books in the field of navigation and the tangential sciences, began to be a regular visitor, sweeping up in a few months late in 1945 most of the early English scientific books still unsold from the seven-year-old Sea Catalogue.”

Horblit’s biographical entry in The Grolier 2000 explains, “Horblit’s love of books grew out of his love of boats. Imrie de Vegh in his 1947 letter proposing Horblit for membership in the Grolier Club called him ‘one of our leading collectors of books on the science of navigation.’” His obituary in AB Bookman, May 30, 1988, adds “An avid yachtsman, Horblit owned the auxiliary yawl ‘Suluan’ and participated in the North American Yacht Racing Union and Yacht Racing Association of Long Island.”

Horblit would form an exceptional collection on Early Science, Navigation & Travel, some items sold at auction in 1974 by Sotheby’s, others sold by H.P. Kraus in a series of catalogues, and many gifted to Harvard. He also gathered an unparalleled collection about the English bibliophile Sir Thomas Phillipps gifted to the Grolier Club, and he assembled a collection about the early history of photography now at Harvard. Horblit authored the influential One Hundred Books Famous in Science (Grolier Club: 1964) and curated the Grolier Club exhibition of the same held in 1958. 

Thomas Tanselle called Horblit “one of the great book collectors of the twentieth century” in a lengthy biographical essay for the Grolier Club Gazette (no. 48) which featured Horblit’s Sir Thomas Phillipps Collection.

 

The Sea. Rear cover annotated by Horblit

Every Book Its Story

KZ's Office / Cataloging Room.  Wife afraid to enter.

I’m cataloging a few of my recent acquisitions.  They usually arrive one at a time and the backlog is manageable, but this last year has been a deluge.  I’m way behind in bringing order to the chaos.   Stacks of book everywhere in my office: desk, chairs, table.  But with the big exception of pamphlets, I can find what I’m looking for as needed.  My in-house catalogue goes light years beyond an orderly list-keeping: most of the items are association copies and each one merits at least a brief explanation that often expands with research into a mini-essay.  But this is part of the fun for me—story upon story to discover, expound, resuscitate.   I find time when I can to catalog, usually in the evenings and sometimes during the day when work is slow.  It also can be an excuse when yardwork is required or a welcome respite when life takes a stressful turn.  The results of this thirty plus year pursuit of biblio-bliss is a current file of 1,112 pages in 10 point type, and 755,027 words. 
            The bookseller Dorothy Sloan, one of my early mentors, encouraged me to catalog my collection in some form.  Thankfully, I listened, which has not always been my strong suit.  Someday I’ll polish this mighty beast of a document up and formally publish it.  But for now, the catalogue remains open on my computer screen 24/7, always beckoning me to add to it – to feed it new and exciting acquisitions.   And believe me, I do, and I also back the file up to the cloud with religious regularity.
              So, what of it the last couple of weeks?  What books and stories have found the top of the stack to input?  They range from blockbuster associations to more minor items in my biblio-opera.   Come along and catalog with me and get your mind off an upcoming meeting, a thankless task, or an irrational person.

"The Greatest Collector of Books the World has Ever Known"

Henry E. Huntington

Stupendously miraculous things can happen to a book collector without warning. On an unseasonably hot October day the package arrived, signature required, and I wasn’t home.   The mail delivery notice was stuck firmly to the front door and I didn’t recognize the sender’s name from any of my recent book purchases.  My faithful mail lady greeted me the next day.  I said no I hadn’t gone to the post office to pick up the package.  So, we arranged for delivery, talked of her pending retirement in two weeks after thirty-six years of service, and I became a bit wistful.  Would the next mail person be so package friendly?

            But I’m getting ahead of myself and miracles have beginnings.  I first spotted the object of my desire in a Dawson’s catalogue in 1996.  The venerable Los Angeles antiquarian firm had acquired portions of the library of Edwin Carpenter, Jr. (1915-1995), historian, librarian, bibliographer, and notable book collector.  Carpenter was associated with the Huntington Library much of his career.  He collected a wide range of subjects.  His favorite was bibliographic association copies—a kindred spirit!   He had a special affinity for Henry Wagner, Henry Harrisse, and Wilberforce Eames, for example.  Carpenter talks at length about his career and collecting in Ruth Axe’s interview Education of a Bibliophile: Edwin H. Carpenter published by the Oral History Program at UCLA in 1977.

Book Hunter Bypaths Explored & Exposed

Book Hunters are a focused lot but they do find time for other pursuits.   Even the most dedicated need a break occasionally.  There are numerous examples of rare bookmen who write fiction, mysteries, even poetry with varied success.  But that is too close to the flame.   Rather let’s look at more diverse bypaths that flesh out the following bibliophiles' interests.  Naturally for my purpose these pursuits resulted in something printed.  The examples are from my own collection.  (The fact that I collect them certainly adds a layer of complexity to me which we shall not explore here.)

            Formidable bibliographer Fredson Bowers tormented me early on via his Principles of Bibliographical Description (1949).   The work is as hearty and dense as German dark bread.  I was very much used to peanut butter and jelly on white bread.  So, choking down the Principles while taking a bibliography class in graduate school was healthy but unpleasant.   Negative thoughts of Mr. Bowers crept in.  Then I discovered a biographical essay of Bowers by his student and disciple G. Thomas Tanselle.  Tanselle confirmed Bowers’ intensity of purpose, his willingness to actively defend his scholarly views, his domination of the bibliographical and textual studies of his time.  But he also mentioned that Bowers liked dogs.  He liked them a lot as do I.  Bowers raised and bred them, particularly Irish wolfhounds, and became an expert in the field.  Bowers was so immersed that he wrote The Dog Owner’s Handbook (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1936), his first book, preceding any of his bibliographical publications. Tanselle notes that “The front of the dust jacket was labeled ‘A Guaranteed Dog Book,’ and the flap explained, ‘Any purchaser who is not satisfied with it may return the book within five days for refund’. . . The book had some success, for it was reprinted by the Sun Dial Press in 1940 and was still mentioned in the 1950s in some of the lists of recommended books that appeared in the American Kennel Club's magazine.”

            I have a number of association copies of Bowers’ bibliographic works in my collection.  None gave me quite the thrill as finding a rare presentation copy of the first edition of The Dog Owner’s Handbook, the only example I’ve ever encountered.

A.S.W. Rosenbach's THE UNPUBLISHABLE MEMOIRS On Display

Front cover of the dust jacket

The Unpublishable Memoirs (1917) --this first (and last) literary effort of bookseller A.S.W. Rosenbach is a highly entertaining read about a bibliophile who will stop at nothing to acquire the books he wants.  It is not intended to be heavy literature or a deeply philosophical tome but it’s certainly a pleasurable biblio-romp.  Edwin Wolf & John Fleming record in their biography Rosenbach (1960) that the “eminent English bibliographer Alfred Pollard found the stories irresistible and ‘gluttonously read them through in an evening, which was not fair play.’”  William Roberts’ favorable review in the Times Literary Supplement compared the work to the writings of W. W. Jacobs and Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes (see Roberts’ copy below).

Recently, I bought a copy inscribed to Percy Lawler who worked closely with Rosenbach for over thirty years and who managed the Philadelphia branch of Rosenbach’s store.  I nestled it on my shelves with another half dozen or so association copies of the same title gathered in the last twenty-five years.  Rosenbach was not shy about inscribing copies and I’ve seen numerous examples offered.  I fished these particular ones from the stream because of their above average association interest.  So, sitting here over the Thanksgiving holiday with a little free time, I thought I’d provide a tour.  I’ll highlight six of the association copies in my collection.  Each is exceptional in its own manner and together they showcase Rosenbach’s deep personal and professional engagement with the rare book world. 

First, let’s briefly review the book’s background.  Wolf & Fleming write, “Almost the last flare-up of his creativity, in a literary sense, must have occurred about this time [ca. 1910], the writing of the short stories published as The Unpublishable Memoirs.  The Doctor never said when he had written these fictitious tales of the unscrupulous bibliophile Hooker, but it seems most likely that they constituted his farewell gesture to a former way of life.  That they were not published until 1917, when the name A.S.W. Rosenbach was appearing rather widely in news stories, is merely an indication that his friend Mitchell Kennerley, over whose imprint they appeared, knew that publication is the sincerest form of flattery, and that a good time to flatter a man is when he is on the way up. . . .

            “It was not difficult for Kennerley to persuade the never overmodest author to permit him to publish the anecdotes of the bibliographical amoralist Robert Hooker.  . . copies of The Unpublishable Memoirs were sent wide and far with the author’s compliments.  Satisfying letters of thanks came back to reward him. . .  The publication of the book provided some enjoyable excitement at a time when the great world at war and the small world of books were overcast with deep black clouds.”
Here are the copies....

De Ricci and Bartlett’s 1921 Book Collector’s Guide: An Icon of the Golden Age

Seymour De Ricci’s and Henrietta Bartlett’s The Book Collector’s Guide: A Practical Handbook of British and American Bibliography (1921) is much more than a forgotten price guide.   The timing of publication and bibliographic expertise provide an insider’s view of the Golden Age of American book collecting--then arguably at its peak--when opportunities were abundant and mighty collectors rose to the occasion.  It was a transitory age, too, and reflects in retrospect the coming shift from old paths to new paths in collecting that would take hold in the 1930s.  The story of the book’s birth is also quite a tale with the polymath bookman Seymour de Ricci at the helm and Henrietta Bartlett as his brilliant, but generally unrecognized co-author.

Book Orphans Adopted: A Varied View of Ex-Library Copies

The mere sight of an ex-library copy on the bookshelf of a serious collector is usually met with disdain by other aficionados.  Let the book be bound in a sturdy library buckram binding with call numbers on the spine and the disdain becomes palpable.  The collector can be somewhat excused if it is a rare item and the book is merely holding a spot for the “upgraded” copy yet to come.  This leniency is heightened a bit if the collector assumes an apologetic tone.

            Ex-library copies are held in disfavor by collectors for a number of reasons.  The physical “mutilation” of the ex-library book is most troubling.  Distasteful ownership markings of all types are usually combined with missing endpapers, battered bindings, and utilitarian repairs.  This doesn’t suit a collector’s temperament for books in original condition or fine bindings.  There are other psychological factors involved but that is the nut of it.  Ex-library copies are inferior in the eyes of collectors and no amount of therapy, rationalization, or browbeating is going to change this rule of the book collecting game.  Rules however can be successfully bent if not broken.

            Writer and friend Nicholas Basbanes calls his own gathering of ex-library copies his “Orphan Collection.”  Scattered throughout my shelves are a number of ex-library orphans that are not only integral to my collection but also hold an honored place.   A brief description of some of them can provide a new perspective on the most humble of books.  My personal collection focuses on association copies related to the history of American book collecting.  A little imagination on the part of collectors of other areas could well raise their own occasional ex-library encounter to a higher level of appreciation.  Librarians may also view their holdings in a different light.

            Not long ago I acquired an ex-library copy for the price of a fast food lunch.  This example formerly resided in the Free Library of Philadelphia.  The book was A.S.W. Rosenbach’s Books and Bidders (1927), an autobiographical account of Rosenbach’s adventures in dealing.  “Rosy” (1876-1952) was knowledgeable, enthusiastic, shrewd, and personable, never missing a chance to promote book collecting.  He dominated the antiquarian book trade in the first half of the 20^th century and helped build many important collections including those of Henry Huntington, Henry and Emily Folger, and Pierpont Morgan.  I already owned copies of Books and Bidders inscribed by Rosenbach to various notables.  What intrigued me however about this association was Rosenbach’s close connection to the Free Library.  Rosenbach, a Philadelphian, supported the library throughout his long career.  He served on the board of trustees, hosted exhibits and talks at the library, raised funds to purchase material for their rare book collections, and most importantly, donated his private collection of rare early American children’s books to the library.  The nucleus of this sentimental collection was inherited from his favorite uncle and mentor, Moses Polock, a Philadelphia bookseller.  The Free Library of Philadelphia was probably closer to Rosenbach’s heart than any other institution.

           

Montana Copper Transformed Into California Biblio-Gold

William Andrews Clark, Jr.

It’s a long stretch from 18^th century England to early 20^th century California but for a bibliophile the journey is an easy one.  A recent serendipitous purchase on Ebay spanned the time and distance in short order.  The book bought was a 1925 edition of Thomas Gray’s An Elegy Written in a Country Church-Yard printed by John Henry Nash of San Francisco for collector William Andrews Clark, Jr. of Los Angeles and Butte, Montana.  It is an elegant production limited to 200 copies and designed as a Christmas gift for friends of Clark. Clark fortified his biblio-eggnog with a lengthy foreword tracing the history of the work’s publication.  He writes, “Having in my library the first eleven separate editions of the Elegy, it may be of interest to note herewith the changes in the text as they successively appeared compared with the text of the first edition.”  No light sing-along caroling here for friends—this was a serious bookman at work.  For good measure he provided a separate facsimile of his copy of the first edition of 1751.

            I acquired the book because it was described as having not only the printed presentation slip normally encountered but also a personalized inscription from Clark.  The limitation statement indicated that this was copy no. 1.  Clark inscriptions in the wild are quite uncommon and this example showed promise for my association collection.

         

Clark inscription in Gray's Elegy

Rosenbach & Huntington: "No Epilogue Nor Sequel"

My book motor runs pretty hard with plenty of gusto.  However, refueling is required from time to time.  I usually do this by re-reading a favorite book about books which rarely fails to rev up my imagination.  No less importantly, the process usually sparks my acquisition mode.  I’m currently a third of the way through Edwin Wolf & John Fleming’s Rosenbach (1960), the best biography of a bookseller, and arguably the best book on the antiquarian book trade ever written.  The subject, Dr. Abraham S. W. Rosenbach (1876-1952) was a complex figure with a book motor that can only be described as supercharged (and apparently fueled by daily infusions of whiskey).  Wolf & Fleming, former employees of Rosenbach, describe him as “an eye-twinkling, hard-selling, hard-drinking, scholarly bookman.”
          This isn’t a book review so I’ll let you discover (or re-discover) the book yourself.  Pertinent to this post is the fact that Rosenbach was instrumental in building the collection of railroad magnate Henry Huntington (1850-1927).  Rosenbach began to sell Huntington books in the early part of the century but things hit full stride from 1920 until Huntington’s death.  Rosenbach facilitated the transfer of millions of dollars of bookish delights to Huntington’s shelves.  The material ranged from Americana to English Literature to Incunabula to Portolan Atlases.  Huntington is remembered for buying entire private libraries in big gulps using a strategy akin to the building of his vast railroad empire.  This large-scale book buying strategy was driven in the 1920s by failing health and his intense desire to form a library of international stature.  Huntington set up a nonprofit educational trust before his death establishing the Huntington Library, Art Collection and Botanical Museum.  Today it is a bucket list stop for book lovers.  It mustn’t be forgotten that Huntington was an enthusiastic bookman as well, not just a check-writing philanthropist. (Even Huntington, with almost unlimited wealth, bought so many books he overheated his budget and had to sometimes use railroad bonds and/or short-term payment plans to cover purchases.  I can relate on an infinitesimally smaller scale).  He and Rosenbach when possible would pour over auction catalogues together for hours, talking books, prioritizing individual lots and establishing bids.
          This all leads me to two copies of a book in my library, Rosenbach’s Books and Bidders (1927), a classic collection of somewhat embellished but always entertaining book essays.

A.S.W. Rosenbach in Photos

A.S.W. Rosenbach (1876-1952), legendary bookseller and collector, was a media darling in an age when important sales of rare books and manuscripts featured prominently in the news.  These three original news service photographs in my collection span the prime of his career from the early 1920s to the late 1940s.  A photograph may not always be worth the thousand proverbial words but it certainly can add an immediacy and texture to a collection not found on the written page.  The stories behind each photograph are given below.  The one thread that I found intriguing in all the original news wire descriptions was the emphasis on Rosenbach as a "collector" as much as a dealer in the eyes of the media-- even though it was obvious he was buying items for clients.  Rosenbach cultivated this image as a collector but it was no marketing mirage.  He salted away many items that he couldn't resist, showing them off to visitors while alive, and left behind the fine Rosenbach Museum holdings in Philadelphia are a testament to his acumen.

Rosenbach in 1921 entering his prime. He had just arrived back home after dominating the Christie Miller Library auction at Sotheby’s London where “[Henry] Huntington’s money and Dr. R.’s aplomb swept all before them.  .  . Lot after lot was offered; with boring consistency, no matter what others bid, the Doctor bid a little higher” (Wolf & Fleming Rosenbach).  He also had strong bids from Henry Folger. Now that makes for a happy bookman.

For further photographs read on....