|
A Passionate Publisher
&
A Collector's Zeal
His ability to combine the two enthusiasms
[love of literature & fine printing] in a long
series of titles published at modest prices is
what makes him an enduring figure in the
history of American bookmaking…had disseminated his books wider than any
private press, while investing in them a degree of
personal conviction no trade publisher could possibly emulate.
– Susan Otis Thompson in The Art That is
Life, and author of the newly republished
American Book Design and William Morris.
Collecting
the books of the Portland, ME
publisher has always meant more to me
than just acquiring the books
themselves. It has enabled me to come
across the fine phrase, the elevated
thought, and to touch and feel the
products of a mind bent toward beauty.
They enable me to touch a world
within, all amidst an outer world of
common concerns, arbitrary outcomes,
and tragedy. Collecting “Mosher” was,
and is, for me a spiritual exercise which
not only led to the assembling what
may be the world’s finest collection in
private hands, but also brought me
closer to the spark that ignited the
publisher’s need to give to the world
these out-of-the-way gems of the literary
pen. As the onetime foremost Mosher
collector,
Norman Strouse, once said of
Mosher, “a few candles still burn
reverently at his alter.” I like to think
that I read by such candlelight, and
strive to make it a more open flame for
others.
Along the way toward building the
collection, I have learned a few things
on how to go about this business of
collecting. I say “business” because it
takes some calculation and risk. And I
say “building” a collection, because
collecting is much more than sheer amassing.
Anyone can be a buyer and accumulate
a ton of stuff simply because one
has the money or the will power to get,
buy, and get some more. But to build,
to construct, a collection, one has to
have a certain focus and direction in
proceeding with certain goals in mind.
The acquisition of my first Mosher book had to wait for the right
time and place in my life. I always enjoyed buying books, and even fancied
myself a “collector” when I put together a rela- tively small assemblage
of collected works of English and continental philosophers. I didn’t have
the resources to collect first editions of Locke, Berkeley, Hume,
Leibnitz, or Descartes., but I was able to purchase first or early
collected works in splendid editions. I’d also buy the ‘works’ of other
lesser philosophical thinkers. In doing so, I felt that I was getting more
bang-for-the- buck in having so many texts in one set, while still getting
the “feel” of a 17th or 18th century book.
I remember visiting a New York bookdealer, Samuel Orlinick of
Scientific Libraries. It was there that I bought my first important, and
expensive, piece of philosophy, Thomas Hobbes’s The Leviathan
(the “bear edition” London, 1651, but actually printed a bit later).
Some colleagues and I then visited a collector of Aesop’s fables, and
while looking over that collection, I was asked what I collect. I took out
The Leviathan and proudly replied, “philosophy.” Upon further
questioning the Aesop collector told me, “oh no, dear fellow, you’re not a
collector, you’re just a buyer.” I thought that some kind of snub, but I
didn’t really understand the import of his remark until I became a
collector of the publisher, Thomas Bird Mosher.
The Mosher Story
“Old Moshwig,” as Falconer Madan
charmingly called him, was indeed a
unique romantic figure in the American
publishing scene around the turn of the
19th/20th Century. Even Robert Frost
felt a powerful urge to write his biography.
Regrettably he never did.
Mosher was the son of a sea captain, and traveled with Captain Ben
Mosher and his family for several years (1866-1870) around the world. His
formal education was slight, but as Christopher Morley once noted, he was
“an uneducated man, as uneducated as Chaucer and Lamb and Conrad.”
Mosher’s own serious start in book collecting came when his father
purchased for him a special color-illustrated copy of Bunyan’s
Pilgrim’s Progress while in London. A little later Mosher
acquired the now famous 34-volume set of Bell’s British Theatre
(London, 1791-99) from which he read aboard ship when ... only a faint and oily lamp swung in the lonely cabin; the
plunging ship midst ocean’s grey and solitary waste, and the long wintry
passage around Cape Horn.
Bell’s B T first opened the treasure trove
of literature to the lad who would one
day be known in far corners of the
world as “the Prince of Publishers.”
The publishing career of Mosher
began in 1891 with the printing of
George Meredith’s Modern Love. By
1900 he had brought out 175 books, and
by the end of his career in 1923, over
780 publications would grace the homes
of collectors from California to as far
away as England, Australia, and India.
Fourteen different series, with names
like Old World, English Reprint, Lyric
Garland, and Miscellaneous Series,
would promote the lesser known works
of Britain’s national literature by such
authors as William Morris, Oscar
Wilde, Robert Louis Stevenson, Algernon
Charles Swinburne, Fiona Macleod
(a.k.a. William Sharp), Walter Pater,
and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Many other
British writers would see their lesser
known works find their way to an
American public, printed in felicitous
format and dressed in fine paper binding.
Some were even brought out in
first editions, or at least first American
editions.
Today most scholars know Mosher
through his small literary magazine, The
Bibelot (1895-1915), and for the piracy
controversy in which he was embroiled.
Andrew Lang led the charge in reaction
to Mosher’s publication of Aucassin &
Nicolete in 1895. Some of Britain’s
authors and publishers would continue
to denounce “The Portland Pirate”
through the years, but in actuality Mosher
only took advantage of his legal
rights to publish British authors whose
work was either not protected under
the International Copyright Law of
1891, or who chose not to follow the
procedures to copyright their work in
the United States (or through their
publisher’s neglect to do so). Moreover,
British publishers hated the fact that
Mosher was turning out beautifully
printed works at a fraction of the cost
of a comparable printing in England,
overseas shipping included! Yet many
English authors were pleased that,
through Mosher’s efforts, they were at
least gaining exposure to the new
American public. And just like today,
controversy sells books, and Mosher
profited from the attacks upon his firm.
Despite the piracy charges, Mosher led a
long and distinguished publishing career,
attracting a loyal and devoted
following with a mailing list of about
17,000 customers.
A Collector’s Beginnings
I was drawn to the Mosher books in 1985 after beginning what some would
call a “change of life” or a “career crisis.” I still think upon it as a
spiritual re-awakening, a refusal to lie to myself anymore, and a need for
inner discovery. Sounds New Age, and in some respects it was, but I
just knew that I had to be able to squeeze more out of life than I was at
the time. It was also the first time that visions of death would haunt me.
A non-world of eternal silence beckoned. Enter the creative arts,
writing poetry, first readings Walt Whitman, examining mystic traditions,
composing for the piano, and writing endless letters. Exit a boring
fifteen year college administrative job.
I also re-discovered, in a little Lancaster, PA bookstore called The
Book Haven, a little stash of books I had seen there countless times and
which first had been introduced to me by the proprietor who took some
pleasure in their presence. The pile never grew bigger or diminished. It
was just there, unread, apparently unappealing to the used
book-buying public. I picked up one of these dainties from Mosher’s Old
World Series, and there for the first time read the words of England’s
Thoreau, in The Story of My Heart by Richard Jefferies. “My god,
he’s saying some of the things I’m feeling.” My delight became so
captivating that I swooped up all nine of the little Old Worlds and
hurriedly made my way to the owner, plunked down the requisite cash, and
scooted out the door with the owner’s words, “See, I told you…” trailing
in the background. So began a marvelous venture into first acquiring,
then amassing, then collecting, then becoming a serious collector, and
then constructing a research collection, no equal of which is believed to
be in private hands.
Building a Press Collection
There are many avenues I took to build
my Mosher collection, and I suppose
most of these would apply to any press
collection of any notable strength. Most
involve knowing where you’re going,
and with whom you’re going.
Like all architectural structures, one needs the plans to begin
seeing what brick goes where. In book collecting that blueprint is the
bibliography, the organization of a certain field of books into a
comprehensive whole, defining the parameters while spotlighting the
individual works. In some cases the collector doesn’t have a bibliography
to go by, making it tougher, but not impossible, to proceed. After all,
many a fine collection has become the nucleus for a new bibliography. In
the case of the Mosher books, it has been Benton Hatch’s A Check List
of the Publications of Thomas Bird Mosher... To date, this is the
only detailed source available. I can’t begin to count the number of
copies I’ve seen with collector’s notes or check marks beside entries.
“Got this one,” I could hear them remark, “found that one too.” To find
what bibliographies exist around your own area of collecting, consult
Theodore Besterman’s A World Bibliography of Bibliographies
found in most libraries, or ask your librarian to do an OCLC Search.
The Mosher books are some of the
scarcer press books, but I have noticed
that it has become equally hard to find
many of the other small and private
presses. It’s helpful to not only shake
the bushes for single books (at book
fairs, through dealer catalogues, visiting
bookshops, searching the Internet, etc.),
but also be open to purchasing whole
collections as well, either privately or at
auction. I bought three collections privately.
Of course, the money for such
can be a problem, but if you divide the
number of books into the overall cost,
many times you’ll be surprised as to
how little you’re really paying. Buying
another person’s collection comes with
other advantages as well. That collector
spent a considerable amount of time
assembling his or her own collection,
and there are usually several highlights
that you’d spend years trying to track
down, if ever. It also provides you with
the opportunity to upgrade copies of
books in your collection. So, when it
comes to buying a small to medium
sized collection, my advise is to buckle
down and do it!
Another important measure to take
is to find a dealer(s) with whom you feel
comfortable and who you judge knows
something about your area of collecting.
I can’t over emphasize the importance
of this step. For me, there was a small
handful of dealers who spent time with
me and knew what I was after. They
became my staunchest allies, and would
let me know of books coming onto the
market, or would call me with quotes.
For me, my leading supporter was Thomas Boss Fine Books of Boston,
MA.. I still clearly remember being introduced to Tom Boss by phone though
an East Coast ABAA dealer. I remember seeing the most beautifully bound
copy of Pater’s Marius the Epicurean I had ever seen, and it was
in a catalogue soley devoted to books printed on pure vellum (Mosher
printed more books on pure vellum than any other American publisher of the
time—a total of 47 from 1898-1913). The price was astronomically high, at
least I had never paid several thousand dollars for a single book before.
But through the dealer-to-dealer introduction, we were able to come to
satisfactory terms, allowing me to make payments while Boss held onto the
book. This was the start of a good, ongoing relationship which brought
many a fine purchase my way.
Another dealer, now deceased, for
whom I still have the warmest feelings,
is Francis M. O’Brien of Portland, ME.
Certainly the dean of Maine booksellers,
if not all of New England (though
George Goodspeed must certainly share
in that honorific title), Francis was
attuned to my Mosher enthusiasm. And
lucky for me, he helped to move the
Mosher library back in 1948 and
managed to save some of the items the
auction house wanted to discard. Thank
god, for it was through Francis that I
was able to gather unique items:
Mosher’s desk diaries, scrapbooks, and
original source books torn apart for the
printer--filled with notes and directions
in Mosher’s hand. And yet another
New England source took eight years of
my persistent attention. I was finally I
able to pry loose a box of manuscript
material which I’m still in the process of
sorting and cataloguing.
Cesi Kellinger of Chambersburg,
PA, was yet another dealer for whom
I’ll always have kind thoughts. We were
directed to her by an area bookstore. A
phone call determined she might have
some Mosher material. My wife and I
visited her home, and as we were being
led out back to a large shed, she said “I
think I have four or five books from
Mosher’s library.” I turned around to
my wife, widely grinning beneath my
raised eyebrows. Four or five? After
hours in that mid-January cold shed, we
mined about 45 books with Mosher’s
bookplate! After several more trips, we
found almost a hundred books. From
such stuff a collector’s dreams are made.
But a word of warning to the wise. If
you turn down dealers a few times,
don’t expect them to keep calling you.
Bookselling is a business, and a book
dealer doesn’t stay in that business by
giving free information to no avail. And
if this is a favored dealer, then please, by
all means, don’t be a cheapskate and
turn down a piece you feel is a tad bit
overpriced. My experience has been
that, over the long haul, you’ll come
out ahead. I’ve paid some stiff prices to
one dealer for a few things, but can
hardly count the number of great
“deals” that came in between.
Mosher Collection Highlights
There are certain books a collector will
want to find in building a Mosher
collection. Of course, the whole list could
be quite lengthy, but here are a few
which one would do well to get now. I
can’t possibly deal with all an edition’s
printings on Van Gelder paper, Japan
vellum, and pure vellum, so I’m basically
limiting my remarks to the more
common Van Gelder copies in VG-F
condition.
A collector should still be able to
pick up a decent copy of Mosher’s first
reprint, George Meredith’s Modern Love
(1891) for around $125-$150.
Then there are two Kelmscott look-a-likes: D. G. Rossetti’s Hand
and Soul (1899), and Matthew Arnold’s Empedocles on Etna
(1900). The opening two-page spreads with Kelmscott boarders are quite
exquisite. Following closely behind is a book which closely mirrors its
Vale Press counterpart, The Blessed Damozel (1901) with its
large, lead initials designed by Charles Ricketts.
Another Morris related book which
often goes unnoticed and undervalued is
itself significant in that it’s a first
American edition. This is William Morris’s
Child Christopher and Goldilind the
Fair (1900). It’s one of Mosher’s larger
sized reprints, and the opening page to
Chapter One is indeed striking. I just
picked one up for $45 recently. If I were
selling it, I’d ask $150 or more,
depending on condition.
A little sleeper, but certainly important
in the graphics world, is A.E.’s (i.e.,
George Russell) Homeward: Songs By
The Way (1895). Not only is this a first
edition of many of George Russell’s
poems, but it is also one of the first
books with Bruce Rogers’s designs, and
the first to carry this famous American’s
designer’s name in a colophon and
his initials in the design. I have seen fine
copies of this fragile book go for $150-
$200 if you can even find a copy!
One of Mosher’s highlights is The Germ which I discuss just
a little later on, but I just can’t help but mention here that I found a
pure vellum copy (a limited pure vellum printing of only four copies)
which the world renown Pre-Raphaelite scholar, Dr. William E. Fredeman,
has called “Mosher’s black orchid… which is a magnificent specimen of book
production” and this particular copy is bound by one of the top exhibition
binding finishers of the period, Leonard Mounteney! I just don’t have the
heart to say what this $7,500 book cost me.
Another sleeper which it might be
best to get your hands on before the
dealers wake up, is Swinburne’s A Year’s
Letters (1901). It’s not only a first
American, but it’s the first edition ever
in book form. You should be able to get
it for around $75 until someone catches
on.
There are several Mosher books
which have absolutely exquisite book
cover designs, and which are particularly
tough to get in fine condition:
Fancy’s Following by Anodos, i.e., Mary
Elizabeth Coleridge (1900); Fragilia Labilia
by John Addington Symonds
(1902) and Primavera : Poems by Four
Authors (1900). All three of these volumes
carry lovely art nouveau cover
designs by the little known Isadore B.
Paine. Fine copies will cost $85 or
more. Another volume of note for its
striking cover design is Mimes by Marcel
Schwob and translated into English by
A. Lenalie (1901). The attractive gold
and violet cover is by American designer,
Earl Stetson Crawford, and copies
typically go for $50-$75, but surely
not much longer.
Though not the typical Mosher
book, his facsimile of Walt Whitman’s
Leaves of Grass (1919) is the first facsimile
of the 1855 text ever printed, and it’s
true to its predecessor right down to the
remarkable green duplicate binding!
Copies go for $150, but I’ve seen some
on occasion for under $90.
The last two books I’ll mention are
Edward Calvert’s Ten Spiritual Designs
(1913), and a book of Blake’s woodcuts.
Calvert was a student of William Blake,
and the illustrations pictured in the special
portfolio section are quite charming
and alluring. Prices on this book have
been climbing steadily, and I regularly
see copies for $375 or more. Lastly,
there is the curious William Blake’s
XVII Designs to Thornton’s Virgil (1899).
These original woodcuts (the only
woodcuts Blake ever did) are haunting
and are here reproduced en masse for the
first time since their original appearance
in 1821. Furthermore, the book contains
early designs by Selwyn Image and
Arthur Heygate Mackmurdo. two early
exponents of England’s Arts & Crafts
Movement. The book usually goes for
$125-$175.
There are so many more Mosher
books I could point out, but space will
not permit. The many different Rubáiyáts,
a first edition by Bertrand Russell
called A Free Man’s Worship (1923), the
captivating Mosher catalogues, the
many designs and 19th - early 20th century
texts all await the collector of The
Mosher Books.
Some Other Collecting Advice
Here are some further points I’d like to
make pertaining to one’s collecting
strategy. If you’re going to build a collection,
then (1) go after at least some of
the more expensive stuff first, (2) risk
breaking a self-imposed spending barrier,
(3) seek to put several anchors in
your collection, (4) convert to importance
of condition, and (5) build alliances
with fellow collectors.
When I first started collecting some
of the more important Mosher editions,
the first reprint of the Pre-Raphaelite
magazine, The Germ, could be obtained
for $50, Today the same book printed
on Van Gelder paper, in VG-F condition
goes for $175-$250. It’s a beautiful
book, and believe me, the price hasn’t
hit the ceiling to which it’s destined to
climb.
Some collectors never allow themselves
to go beyond a certain price limit.
I’ve seen this work to their detriment
and to my gratification time and time
again. Because they weren’t willing to
spend above $20-$30 (or refused to pay
an extra $10 above what they thought
the price should be), a dealer would
learn about me and my willingness to
pay more for fine quality. Offers routed
to me and away from them. In some
instances, even my own self-imposed
price ceilings would fall by the wayside,
and I began to look differently at books
I once said I’ll only purchase if below
$200. Ask yourself, are they unique in
some way --an association copy or
exquisite binding? Is the condition
impeccable? Once I began to break my own
barriers, I started acquiring things
which today I look back upon with a
smug smile and a shake my head in
disbelief over the small price I paid for
such an incredibly good item. Believe
me, once you break the $200 barrier,
and then the $500 barrier, and so on,
just look about yourself and you’ll see
that you don’t live in debtor’s prison.
Bibliomania can be controlled, and
you’ll still have your sanity, along with
one marvelous collection you can
return to in enjoyment time and time
again at your own discretion.
What do I mean about putting
anchors into your collection? Well, while
you’re on your way to breaking some
of those self-imposed barriers, you can
begin to acquire some special items. A
collection is just ho-hum until you’re
able to place within it some items of an
extra-ordinary nature. For my own
collection, I’m afraid of sinking the ship
because there are now so many
“anchors” attached to it, I think I’ll have to
dry-dock! The Marius was the first
anchor with it’s severely limited pure
vellum printing and exquisite exhibition
binding by Toof & Co. It’s
photo-illustrated in Otto Zahn’s monograph,
On Art Binding (Memphis, TN: Toof &
Co, 1904) prepared for the Louisiana
Purchase Exposition at St. Louis. To
this I have added a number of other fine
bindings on Mosher books by
Zaehnsdorf, Monastery Hill, William
Cushing Bamburgh, Hugo Peller, and
American female binders like Florence
Foote and Elizabeth Utley.
I have also managed to find many of
the original books that the publisher
himself edited and notated for the
printer who produced the Mosher
reprints. Add to this a large collection of
manuscript material, of books actually
written out in Mosher’s hand, a stash of
a scholar’s research material written on
Mosher’s early life, over 250 books
from Mosher’s library (many with
personal inscriptions or other associations,
and with Mosher’s notes), several
unique Mosher books, personal diaries,
the publisher’s scrapbooks, and you’re
on your way to building a collection
that has research potential for generations
to come. All of this supports the
over 2,000+ Mosher books in very
good to fine condition in the collection.
It now has a depth to it that far and
away ranks it with some of the finest
ever assembled, like
Norman Strouse's
collection. The value to future researchers
is enormous. In fact, to help utilize
my collection’s own research potential,
I’ve written a new Mosher bibliography
and have compiled the first-ever listing
of just about all the books Mosher had
in his personal library. I’m looking
forward to publication in 1998, and I
hope it will help set straight Mosher’s
historic place in American publishing,
and in showing the dissemination of
England’s national literature throughout
her one-time colony and the rest of
the world.
Some people say condition isn’t just important, it’s
everything. For the most part I wholeheartedly agree, at least
for press books or modern firsts. If you buy a book in fine condition, and
keep it that way, the book’s value will hold or even increase. Once a
marred copy, always a marred copy. And what you buy with flaws, you have
to sell with flaws. Besides, the original publisher --and this holds
especially true with press books-- intended the book to have a certain
look. A Mosher Press book with tattered covers was not the way the
publisher originally intended the public to see that book. I’ve gone so
far as to say that a Mosher book in fine condition is a pleasure to
behold, but there’s nothing uglier than a beat up, browned, and sullied
copy of one of his books. Maybe I’m overstating it, but I certainly do
react differently to a poor copy than I do to a pristine one. There is an
exception, however, and that’s when the copy is important for reasons
other than it’s condition, e.g., an association copy, inscribed copy, or a
copy from a famous library. I might also exempt a copy with a clean
text-block slated for fine binding.
When Collectors Turn Friends
Imagine two Mosher book collectors being introduced by letter, and who
schedule their first meeting at a city train station, only realizing too
late that they have no idea what the other looks like! This happened to a
Philadelphia publisher and me. Jean-François Vilain was coming by train to
Lancaster, PA. I drove to meet him there, but how was he to recognize me,
and I him, through the crowds getting off the train. I decided to take
along one of Mosher’s Old World Series books, and held it up as passengers
disembarked. “No, that’s not him, nor that person” I’d remark to myself.
Another train arrives and I once again go through the routine. Then in the
crowd I saw a somewhat diminutive fellow with a shoulder bag. And quite
independent of my scheme, this fellow was reservedly waiving a little
Mosher book before him, just as I was. The incident created some
incredulous laughter, and I’m sure we’ll never forget that first
meeting.
Over the next few years we were each able to collect our share of
Mosher books. Jean-François collects all areas of the American fine
printing movement, and wrote several articles, including on the Mosher
Press. Later we decided to pool our resources along with Temple University
to produce a Mosher exhibition in summer 1992, and we co-authored the
extensive exhibit catalogue, Thomas Bird Mosher & the Art of the
Book. Over the years we have both alerted one another to items for
sale, and sometimes even went together to make joint Mosher purchases. He
even managed, to my everlasting chagrin, to pry loose a Mosher book,
extra- illuminated by Clara Chipman Newton (of Rookwood Pottery fame). But
even though it still smarts, it’s the focus of a friendly banter between
us. Jean- François continues to write articles; he’s even written the
foreword to the new edition of Susan Otis Thompson’s William Morris
and American Book Design, and he has been a steady reader of my
manuscript for the new Mosher bibliography. The book-collectors-turned-
friend relationship has meant much to us both, and our respective
collections have only benefited from our friendship. I can’t help but
feel that it is important for collectors to assist one another. Good
heavens, we occupy a small enough, esoteric world as it is. Even if you
don’t form a lasting friendship, it’s at least good to know what your
fellow competition is doing. I know of other collectors who are always
helping one another out, a kind of buddy system which work especially well
if they don’t collect the same thing. As for me, if I don’t soon get that
Clara Chipman Newton book back, *~?*#-! ?
Philip R. Bishop operates
MOSHER BOOKS, in Millersville, PA, and is a
member of the
Antiquarian Booksellers Association
of America. He is also a
member of The William Morris Society (among
others), and the author-compiler of the
upcoming bibliography on The Mosher
Books.
Sources for More Information
The following sources will provide
more information on Mosher and The
Mosher Press:
Vilain, Jean-François and Philip R.
Bishop. Thomas Bird Mosher and the
Art of the Book. (Philadelphia: F. A.
Davis Co., 1992). Excellent 112-
page exhibition catalogue with 71
b&w photo-illustrations. $24 plus
shipping from most books-on-
books dealers, or by calling 717-
872-9209, or contact by eMail at
mosher@ptdprolog.net.
Thompson, Susan Otis. American
Book Design and William Morris.
With a New Foreword by Jean-
François Vilain. (The British
Library and Oak Knoll Press, 1996).
Hardcover-$49.94, paperback
$34.95
Strouse, Norman.
The Passionate Pirate. (North Hills, PA: Bird &
Bull Press, 1964). The only single
biography in book form, now an
expensive private press book priced
at $650-$850.
Hatch, Benton L. A Check List of
the Publications of Thomas Bird Mosher
of Portland Maine. (Amherst,
MA: Printed at the Gehenna Press
for the University of Mass. Press,
1966). Another rare press book,
prized as a Gehenna Press item, is
usually priced at around $275-$350.
Of course, there’s nothing better
than to see the books for yourself.
Major institutional collections are
located at: The Gleeson Library at
the University of San Francisco; the
Mudd Library at Yale, the Library
at the University of South Florida,
Bowdoin College Library, the
Hayden Library at Arizona State
University-Tempe, the University
of Louisville Library, the Miller
Library at Colby College, The
Houghton Library, the Portland
(ME) Public Library, and the
Kalamazoo College Library, just to
name a few.
|