American Book-Plates

Private Library of J. N. Candee Cole, This book is not loaned. Matt. xxv. 9.

Read not books alone: but men, and be careful to read thyself. The property of John Lambert, South Reading.

To Borrowers of Books.You remember, my friend, I freely comply’dWith the favour you asked me, and fully reliedOn a favour from you, which, tho’ promised, I find,As it hasn’t been granted, is out of your mind,To return in due time what I’ve wanted to see,The Book, which ’tis long since you borrow’d of me.Another I now with reluctance implore,’Tis only to ask that you borrow no more.Stolen from J. W. Houx,Book-keeping taught in three words,Never lend them

The would-be borrower who finds these sentiments in the book he was about to ask for will scarcely be encouraged to do so, and for directness they are exceeded by only one example, in which the owner’s name is followed by the simple declaration, He does not lend books. The motto on the plate of the late George Ticknor—Suum cuique, To every man his own– was also calculated to discourage the borrower.

But some people do lend books, and have them returned too, – in good second-hand condition. And so it comes about that the proper use of books is made the subject of another class of mottoes.

My Friend! Should you this book peruse,Please to protect it from abuse:Nor soil, nor stain, nor mark its page,Nor give it premature old age:And, when it has effected all,Please to return it ere I call.

The following verse is common property and is found on several plates: —

If thou art borrowed by a friend,Right welcome shall he beTo read, to study, not to lend,And to return to me.Not that imparted learning dothDiminish learning’s store,But books, I find, if often lent,Return to me no more.Read slowly,Pause frequently,Think seriously,Return duly with the corners of the leaves not turned down.Neither blemish this book, nor the leaves double down,Nor lend it to each idle friend in the town:Return it when read, – or if lost please supplyAnother, as good to the mind and the eye.With right and with reason you need but be friendsAnd each book in my study your pleasure attends.If through respect or love I lendThis book unto my worthy friend,He must not soil, abuse, nor tear,But read with diligence and care;And when its contents you have learned,Remember, it must be Returned.

On the plate of Samuel W. Francis appear the following lines: —

Any one may borrow,But a gentleman returns.The propertyofThomas C. CowanBorrower, read, mark, and Avoidthe former part ofPsalm xxxvii. 21If you borrow, freely use it,Take great care and don’t abuse it:Read, but neither lose nor lend it,Then unto the owner send it.

Never open a book farther than to bring both sides of the cover on to the same plane. Never lend a borrowed book, but return it as soon as you are through with it, so that the owner may not be deprived of its use. You may think this a strange request, but I find that although many of my friends are poor arithmeticians, they are nearly all of them good book-keepers.

In strong contrast to all the preceding are those mottoes of generous souls who find no pleasure in withholding their treasures, but who wish to have it understood that they are for the use of all; not very many are bold enough to thus advertise their willingness to lend, but a few do so, and generally by the use of the Latin, Sibi et amicis, or et amicorum.

Sentiments in praise of books and reading are not uncommon, and quotations from classic writers both in prose and poetry do good service on book-plates. Pope’s well-known lines —

A little learning is a dangerous thing,Drink deep or taste not the Pierian Spring;Where shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,But drinking largely sobers us again.

are found on an old American plate.

On a recent New York plate, —

Far more seemly were it for thee to have thy Study full of Books than thy purse full of money. Lilly.

On a Maine plate, —

Who learns and learns but does not what he learns,Is one who plows and plows but never sows.—Weigh well each thought, each sentence freely scan,In Reason’s balance try the works of man.Be bias’d not by those who praise or blame,Nor, Servile, Yield opinion to a name.

On a recent Boston plate, —

Un bon livre est un bon ami.

On a recent Western plate, —

A jolly goode booke,Whereon to looke,Is better to me than golde.

On a recent Washington plate, —

A trusty villain, sir, that very oft when I am dull with care and melancholy lightens my humour.

The mottoes on the plates of those who have achieved distinction have a peculiar interest, especially when chosen by the owners themselves. The plate of Henry W. Longfellow bears the following line: —

Non clamor sed amor,

which is from an unknown author and is found in the following verse: —

Non vox sed votum,Non chordas sed cor,Non clamor sed amor,Sonat in aure Dei.Not voice but vow,Not harp-string, but heart-string,Not loudness but love,Sound in the ear of God.

The motto of George Washington, —Exitus acta probat, is not given in the accepted lists as the family motto of his ancestors, but it may have been such. The meaning of it has brought out criticism recently because of its Jesuitical sound, – “The end shows the deed.” But this may also be taken as a patriotic utterance in view of the part of the illustrious owner of this plate in the Revolution.

On the plate of William Penn we see a motto most fitting for the character he sustained, Dum clavum rectum teneam– “While I hold to glory, let me hold to right.” In the plate the third word is omitted, as the engraver found the motto too long for the space reserved, and through some

blunder the r in clarum is changed to a v, which makes no sense at all.

On the plate of George Bancroft, the late historian, a chubby cherub bears a panel on which is the motto, Sursum corda. Another plate was also used by Mr. Bancroft which was in all respects like the above, except that the motto was changed to ΕΙΣ ΦΑΟΣ.

The plate of the late Mr. George W. Childs has the following motto whose appropriateness is evident at once, —The pen is mightier than the sword. Above this a second motto of equal appropriateness is given, —Nihil sine labore.

On the plate of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Per ampliora ad altiora is given upon a ribbon under a beautiful drawing of the “chambered nautilus.”

Instances of mottoes which are cleverly made to carry some meaning, or some word, which will be seen at a glance to be taken from the name of the owner, are found often.

On the plate of Harold Clarence Ernst this motto is given, Ernst ist das Leben.

On the plate of George Curry, D.D., —Sic curre capias.

On the plate of Edward Spencer Dix, —Quod dixi id feci.

In concluding this list of mottoes two from the Welsh can be instanced, one on the plate of a New York collector of Welshiana, which is Cared Doeth Yr Encilic, meaning, “The learned love the things of the past.” The other is on a Washington plate, and reads thus, A fynno Dwy y Fydd, meaning, “What God wills, will be.”

In the list of languages used on book-plates, we must now include the Volapük, for we have the first instance of its use already in a New York plate; the motto reading, Menad bal pukbal, and meaning, “One humanity, one language.”

ARMORIAL BOOK-PLATES

BOOK-PLATES admit of many kinds of extraneous ornamentation, and wholly apart from the special function of recording the ownership of books, they serve as expressions of artistic taste; they lend themselves readily to many forms of design, and have passed through several changes or “styles” in the three hundred years of their existence; they can be dignified or flippant, serious or punning, of artistic beauty or positive deformity; they can express the owner’s choice of reading and can preserve lines from his favorite authors; can convey warning or invitation, and can, in short, be made a very personal affair.

The first book-plates were heraldic. In those early and, in some senses, good old days, before the schoolmaster was abroad in the land, when learning was the possession of the aristocrats and the churchmen only, and consequently when handwriting was not in use among the people, families were distinguished by emblems which were known of all. These heraldic devices were painted on their shields, carved upon their walls, engraved upon their breast-plates, woven upon their banners and their tapestries, displayed upon their own persons, upon those of their dependents, and even upon their animals and the furniture and books of their homes; even the purely ornamental and ephemeral luxuries came to be adorned with the family coat-of-arms.

The armorial bearings, stamped upon the back or sides of a book, or printed upon paper and pasted within the cover, were sufficient, without a name, to identify the family to which it belonged. Libraries descended from father to son, and were kept intact for generations; and the family arms and motto were the most appropriate label possible.

Warren, one of the first to study book-plates and to give to others the benefit of his researches, has divided the armorial plates into general classes, and has given them suitable names, which are accepted the world over. A considerable number of subdivisions has been made; and while they may be serviceable where book-plates are plentiful, they are but an incumbrance to the collector of the early plates of America, for our examples are few in number, and are quite sufficiently distinguished – for the purpose of the present work, at least – by the following styles: Early English, Jacobean, Chippendale, Ribbon, and Wreath. Distinctive, easily remembered characteristics pertain to each of these, and fairly accurate dates of their adoption and continuance can be given.

Adopting then the nomenclature of Warren, and following his lead, we come now to consider the meaning of the different styles and the diversity of their designs.

The very earliest class is the Early English, in which the shield of arms is present with all its accessories. In these plates the mantling is very profuse, and in large full-rounded curves surrounds three, and often all four, sides of the shield. This is the only ornamentation, nothing incidental being added as yet; the name of the owner is usually or often accompanied by a title and address, and quite frequently also by the date.

We have but few examples of this style; perhaps the most satisfactory as an example of the class will be the plate of Joseph Dudley, dated 1754. (This plate was really engraved much earlier than this. Hurd erased the original name, and cut the present one with the date in its place.) In this the mantling, running out beyond the edges of the shield, curls both upward and downward, and completely envelops three sides; the design takes on a strong resemblance to oak leaves, and a single leaf of this is engraved upon the helmet: the background, or space enclosed within the scroll-work, is filled in with perpendicular lines which might be taken for the tincture gules; in the name-bracket, the oak-leaf pattern is again made use of, forming a neat finish to the ends.

In the plate of The Honourable Wm. Carmichael, Esqr., the mantling is not so completely transformed into the oak-leaf design, although the latter is here apparent. The plate of Jer. Dummer, Anglus Americanus is peculiar in that the space enclosed by the scroll-work is lined with the solid brick wall of the later Jacobean style; in this the

mantling is less striking than in the Dudley, but it surrounds the shield well, and curves upward about the crest. In the Minot plate, which is very peculiar and rather difficult to classify, the mantling is very unworthy of the name; it does not proceed from the helmet, nor indeed from anywhere in particular, but in wild and very eccentric fashion, envelops the crest and most of the shield; the field of the shield is tinctured azure, and it is enclosed within a border or moulding which nearly surrounds it, but leaves a portion at the base unprotected; a further peculiarity of this moulding is that it is an integral part of the helmet, for it curves over at the top of the shield and actually proceeds from the helmet.

A very fine example of this style is the Francis Page plate.

The next style is the Jacobean, commonly spoken of as existing from about 1700 to about 1745; the styles overlap naturally, and no hard-and-fast period can be established within which only one particular style of plate was used. Examples of the Jacobean plate are found in England which would date later than 1745, and the style which succeeded this was used somewhat before the year which begins its accepted period: the dates of the periods, then, are approximate. The names by which the different styles are known have all a good reason for their acceptance, although each one was suggested by differing circumstances.

The style of book-plate in vogue at the time of the last James is designated as Jacobean; and, while it continued in use long after the death of the deposed monarch who gave it its name, any change in its designation would be misleading. The principal features of this style are its heavy, carved appearance, the evenly balanced proportions, and the exact coincidence of the two sides of the design. The shield, always of regular outline, is usually placed upon an ornamental frame whose background, or lining, is either filled in

with a fish-scale pattern, diapered into the lozenge form or built up solidly with a wall of brick. This lining shows at both sides of the shield, below, and, less often, above it; its sides are convoluted; they run out in foldings and scrolls resembling the carving on wood, and are often worked into elaborate patterns: sometimes, too, the design is surrounded by a carved moulding which makes a heavy frame of rectangular form and massive appearance. This style of plate, well-handled, is exceedingly handsome, and is capable of more repose and dignity than any other. Very forbidding indeed, and over-solemn, are some examples, but in the main the purely Jacobean plates are very pleasing. Among the accessories usually found are a scallop-shell with the concave side turned towards the observer, and placed either below the shield to support it, or above it to set it off: this shell is always looked for in the Jacobean plates, and indeed a shelly motive is apparent throughout very many examples. The helmet and mantling are conspicuous, especially the latter, as it is often enlarged and emphasized by being drawn into the general scheme of decoration; very full, reaching far down the sides of the shield-frame, and indeed often curiously woven into the convolutions of the frame itself, it at times loses its significance: grotesque faces sometimes peer from the ornamentation, and heads of satyrs and demons are frequently used to rest the base of the shield upon. In some instances the name is placed upon a bracket similar to the upper part of the plate in decoration, or, again, it may be seen upon a small curtain or lambrequin caught up at the ends with string. Very often, too, no setting is provided for the name, and it is simply engraved beneath the design. Eagles, lions, termini, cherubs, and sometimes cornucopiæ of fruit or flowers, angels blowing upon trumpets, and stiff stalks of flowers are introduced into the ornamentation. But these do not succeed in enlivening the style of the plate materially, for it is essentially heavy, conservative, and formal in design and spirit. No graceful airiness rests upon it, and it provokes no joyous sentiment, but rather rouses respect and enforces stateliness. The general appearance of the Jacobean plate is as if carved from wood. We do not expect old carving to be anything but solid and immobile, and these characteristics are present in this style of book-plate. Indeed, Warren, in his chapter on the Jacobean style, says that no antiquary can fail to note the strong similarity of treatment and design between the wood-carving preserved in the churches of the time of Charles the Second and the mouldings on the monuments of the same period, and the book-plates of the style we have considered. Our finest example of the Jacobean book-plate is found in the work of Thomas Johnston, who made the plate of William P. Smith, A.M. This is a typical example of the later Jacobean style, and is worthy of particular study. The Elizabethan shield is set against a frame which is very elaborately carved and ornamented; the lining is covered with the fish-scale pattern, and this extends also to the arms and convolutions upon the sides. At the base of the shield the scallop-shell is in position as prescribed, and is surrounded by a little frame of its own; the mantling is very slight indeed, breaking out from the wreath and also from the lower part of the helmet, in short and simple spirals. The motto is found on a ribbon which is gracefully strung upon the scrolls at the bottom of the design.

In the Spooner plate, by Hurd, the shield, also of Elizabethan pattern, is set against a diapered background; beneath the shield, within a little frame, the head of a sphinx is seen; term-figures are placed in the scroll-work at either side, and from their hands depend bouquets of flowers;

the crest is overarched with a bit of old scallop-shell, and the motto is given on a plain ribbon which, wholly unsupported, maintains a curved position under the whole design. In the Andrew Tyler plate, also by Hurd, a grotesque face supports the shield, the lining is elaborately diapered, and a festoon of cloth depends from the lower scrolls of the frame. In the small-sized plate of John Allen, the lining is embellished with the simple lattice-work, in two patterns.

Closely succeeding the Jacobean, and indeed coming into use before the latter was wholly discarded, the Chippendale style of book-plate may be regarded as in a way an evolution from the Jacobean. If the parent was dignified and conservative, the offspring was dainty and progressive; the Jacobean style maintained its dignity and decorous nicety to the end, but the Chippendale, which started in with a taking air of modest and light gracefulness, in strong and pleasing contrast to the solidity of its predecessor, rapidly assumed a most elaborate and ornate manner, and finally sank into a wild, riotous, and well-nigh sensuous profusion of decorative expression, which being too heavy for it to sustain, bore it down to its end. The character of the Chippendale plate, while attractive and beautiful in its pure form, had essential elements of weakness, which, hardly able to resist development, were certain to cause its downfall.

As is natural to suppose, the name was bestowed upon this style because of its assimilation of the ornate and flowery spirit which the famous T. Chippendale at this period introduced into wood-carving and upholstery. As compared with its immediate predecessor, the differences in this style of plate are seen to be principally the liberating of the decorative features from the stiffness which thralled them in the Jacobean. Not now resembling ponderous carvings in oak and mahogany, but rising free and unrestrained, the rose branches and sprigs seem to be copied from Nature herself; not arranged with careful nicety and labored uniformity as formerly, but springing from any convenient niche, they add grace and delicacy to the whole design. The helmet is seldom

seen in this style of plate, the mantling is consequently absent, and the bracket supporting the shield of arms undergoes a transformation; the convolutions and scrolls on the sides become finer, freer, and less imposing; the shield is never found of any set rectangular pattern, but often is pear-shaped, shell-like in form, or indeed not unlike the oyster or the human ear in general outline; the scallop shell which formerly served as a base for the shield to rest on, is now broken into dainty fragments with the pectinated edges disposed about the shield itself; the name-frame is no longer a cloth curtain, but is a scroll with indented edges and curling outlines.

In its highest development the Chippendale plate is a beautiful piece of work; the richness of its curves, its plentitude of graceful scrolls, its profusion of roses in garlands or on the stem, and the elaborate detail noticeable in all its parts, combine to make a plate of delightful airiness and dainty nicety; but in the hands of weak designers, as pointed out by Warren, its possibilities of over-ornamentation were seized upon, and we find the most unexpected and incongruous assortment of figures from life, architectural fragments, allegorical subjects and other features not to be included in any particular class, occupying convenient places about the escutcheon; we find sleek shepherds clad in the fashionable clothes of the day, – knee-breeches, ruffled shirt with Byron collar, large felt hats, and buckled shoes; we see would-be shepherdesses in big hooped-skirts, very low-necked bodices and slight waists, wearing frizzly hair and Gainsborough hats, and carrying dainty crooks; scantily draped figures recline under the trees, while attendant cupids make music or hasten up with books. Turning from these pastoral scenes, we come across plates which have a most frightful dragon with scaly body, forked tail, and fiery, bulging eyes, who spits fire as he crouches among the roses; in others we find cornices, columns, arches, and urns; fountains, hand-glasses, ships, nautical instruments, lambs, dogs, – in short, it is useless to name the great number of irrelevant articles which were made use of. The plate was made to carry any amount of heterogeneous ornamentation which the designer fancied; it seems in some cases as if the details were employed with rightful reference to the tastes or pursuits of the owner, but in the greater number the fancy was allowed free play.

Hurd’s work furnishes us with the best examples

of the pure Chippendale style; the Chandler plate, the Wentworth, and the Dumeresque are good examples; Dawkins gives us the later and debased Chippendale with all its profusion of extrinsic ornamentation. The Samuel Vaughan plate is a very fine example of good Chippendaleism, and may be taken as a standard by which to recognize the features of this style. The Robt. Dinwiddie plate is a fine example of this style, though the heraldry may be questioned: this, according to Hardy, is of Scotch make.

In the Ribbon and Wreath style, which came into vogue in England about 1770, and in the United States not much before 1790, we note a return to simplicity. The later Chippendale plates, with their over-burdened frames, now yield to this quiet style, which is unassuming and very pleasing. In this the shield is usually

heart-shaped, is not set against a background, and has absolutely no carved work about it; the shield is often unsupported, but is sometimes hung by ribbons or festoons from wall-pins above; the decoration, as the name suggests, consists principally of ribbons, and wreathing in various forms. At the present day we use in our wall-paper, upholstery, and wood-carving on furniture and mantels, and even on outside cornices, a certain form of garland or festoon tied with ribbon which we call “Colonial”; in a general way this resembles the decoration features of the Ribbon and Wreath book-plate. From wall-pins with fancy oval or round heads, festoons of flowers depend above the shield; branches of holly and palm, often tied with a ribbon whose fluttering ends bear a motto or the name, are crossed beneath the shield, and their graceful sprays extend up either side. Some of the festoons are rich with blossoms, others, more slender, are of leaves only, while a few are made of cloth; the full garlands are usually hung from above the shield, while the thinner style is draped in any place and manner acceptable to the designer, and with more or less of gracefulness, as his skill permitted. This style of plate calls for nothing more than its legitimate features to render it effective and satisfactory, and in general the plates are in the pure style; but in some of the New York plates, there are books, writing materials, and bits of landscape introduced under the shield.