LADIES' BOOK-PLATES
THERE seem to be really several good and logical reasons why we should
separate, for consideration by themselves, the book-plates which have
been used by ladies. To mention two: there are certain differences (such
as the shape of the shield in which the arms are borne) which, by the
rigid laws of heraldry, ought to appear on these book-plates when
belonging to a maid or widow; moreover, ladies' book-plates, though
sometimes mere printed labels, are generally more fanciful in design
than the majority of those owned by the sterner sex.
The whole subject of ladies' book-plates has been so exhaustively
treated by Miss Norna Labouchere that it need not take up much space in
the present chapter. When, however, in this work, Miss Labouchere asks
where are book-plates of the English feminine bibliophiles of the
fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries--Dame Juliana Berners,
Margaret Roper, Lady Jane Grey, Mary Stuart, and the ladies of Little
Gidding--the answer, I am afraid, is: they had none. Had they possessed
them, they would, in this book-plate-spying age, have been discovered.
[Illustration: LADY BATH'S BOOK-PLATE.]
But, be it said to the credit of the ladies, some of the earliest
dated English book-plates belonged to them. It is true these are merely
name-tickets, such as that of Elizabeth Pindar, 1608, in the Bagford
Collection, kindly pointed out to me by Mr. W. Y. Fletcher; but the fact
of their existence deserves notice, because it shows the readiness of
the fair sex to lay hold of a new fashion; and having a book-plate in
the early years of the seventeenth century was a new fashion, at least
in England.
The first Armorial ladies' book-plate is that of the Countess-Dowager of
Bath, already very fully described. I will only add that readers who
refer back to what I have said about her matrimonial arrangements
(_vide_ p. 38), will see that she is heraldically accurate in not
bearing her arms in a lozenge. The laws of heraldry do not allow ladies,
while married, to place their arms in lozenge-shaped shields; and this
fact enables some feminine book-plate owners to demonstrate the
possession of a virtue which women are often taxed with
lacking--economy. Ladies frequently made the same designs do duty as
their own book-plates which had served for their husbands. But,
according to Miss Labouchere, the husband sometimes used his wife's
book-plate; for the book-plates--identical, save for the
inscriptions--of the Duke and Duchess of Beaufort, Lord and Lady Roos,
and some others, show, on examination, that the words indicative of
ownership by the lady have been erased, and over-engraved by those
indicative of possession by her lord.
The lozenge really looks very well on a book-plate; and lends itself
readily to the decoration usually bestowed upon it. Take, for instance,
that of Dame Anne Margaretta Mason, dated in 1701. Her maiden name was
Long, and the shield shows us Mason impaling Long. Lady Mason's is a
fair sample of a lady's book-plate of that date. The arms are contained
in a lozenge, set in a Jacobean frame, which is lined with scale work,
and adorned with ribbons and leafy sprays. There is no motto-scroll, but
the name bracket comes up close to the base of the design (see also p.
52).
Indeed it may be said that the Jacobean style of ornamentation is that
best suited to ladies' book-plates, especially when the arms are
depicted on a lozenge-shaped shield. The book-plate of the 'Hon. Anne
North,' by Simon Gribelin, is another instance to prove this. I do not
think that Chippendale decoration suits them at all, and, in the use of
ornaments of that style, Englishwomen were as immoderate as Englishmen.
Lady Lombe's book-plate, designed in the later days of Chippendalism, is
quite appalling from its over-ornamentation. The wreath of ribbon, or
festoon, style of the close of the last century is more suitable for
ladies' book-plates, and some very charming examples are known; equally
suitable, it seems to me, would have been the picture or landscape
style--the style in which, at the close of the last century, Bewick, and
some few other English artists, were working with conspicuous success,
and it seems strange that the ladies of Great Britain did not adopt it
more extensively.
When we come to modern times we find ladies have run as wild as their
lords over book-plates; there is the same peculiarity, the same
mysticism, the same inappropriateness for book-plates in the designs of
many book-plates of _fin de siècle_ English ladies. The few really
artistic and appropriate book-plates stand out in marked contrast in
Miss Labouchere's excellent little book, and amongst them may be noted
Lady Mayo's, designed in 1894 by Mr. Anning Bell, which shows us a
musician and a songstress within a frame composed of spring flowers and
the national emblem of Ireland.
But let us go back a little in date, and look at a ladies' book-plate
designed in the Allegoric style; what more striking example could be
found than that furnished by George Vertue's charming piece of work
engraved for Lady Oxford?
[Illustration]
It represents the interior of the library either at Brampton or Welbeck,
probably the latter, which was Lady Oxford's own inheritance. Through a
doorway, flanked by Corinthian columns, the curtain in front of which is
drawn back, we obtain a view of a country house standing back in a
well-kept park; a river crossed by a three-arched bridge meanders
through this. But it is the occupants of the room that call for most
attention. The prominent figure is that of Minerva, who has laid aside
her arms, and stands sandalled and helmeted. She is busily engaged in
instructing six cupids, who appear to be industriously following her
injunctions. One of these is painting in oils, with an easel before
him and a palette on his thumb; the goddess with her left hand points
out some defect in his work, and apparently explains how it may be
remedied. Another cupid plays the harp; two more sit on the frame of the
design, weaving flowing festoons; another, also on the frame, near a
celestial globe, copies the picture of a flute-playing satyr which a
sixth cupid holds in position.
On the frame which surrounds the picture sit two figures--one of which
is Mercury, with caduceus and winged hat--who act as supporters to a
medallion bearing Lady Oxford's monogram; above is an urn, and from the
sides fall bunches of grapes. Below the design is engraved 'Henrietta
Cavendish Holles, Oxford and Mortimer. Given me by'--and then the
donor's name and last two figures of the date, filled in by Lady Oxford
herself.
Lady Oxford was the sole heiress of John Holles, last Duke of Newcastle
of the Holles family, and was the wife of Edward, second Earl of Oxford,
son of Queen Anne's minister, and the continuator and completor of the
Harleian collections. Vertue's love of studying all kinds of antiquities
brought him, at an early date, into contact with Lord Oxford, who proved
one of his warmest patrons. The artist himself speaks of 'the Earl's
generous and unparalleled encouragement of my undertakings.' Harley
would take his friend with him on his various 'hunting' tours in
England, getting him to sketch the numerous objects of interest that
they came across. No wonder that the Earl's death, in 1741, was a heavy
loss, in every way, to George Vertue.
It is noteworthy that there is no trace of heraldry in this remarkable
book-plate. Book-plates free from anything armorial were not the rule in
England in 1730, and Vertue was certainly proficient in heraldic
engraving, or ought to have been so, since his earliest task in life was
engraving coats of arms on plate, and his second engagement was with
Michael Vandergucht, who, we know, executed a good deal of armorial
work. It is probable, therefore, that the idea of the book-plate was
Lady Oxford's own.
From this delightful specimen of a lady's book-plate in which heraldry
is entirely absent, we may appropriately turn our attention to two
examples which combine heraldry with a fanciful design--the book-plates
of Lady Pomfret and the Honourable Mrs. Damer. The first of these is
that which 'S. W.,' probably Samuel Wale, the Royal Academician,
engraved for 'The R^{t} Hon^{ble} Henrietta Louisa Jeffreys, Countess of
Pomfret, Lady of the Bed-chamber to Queen Caroline,' and is a very
unusual piece of work, both in shape, design, and heraldry. There is a
clear indication of 'Chippendaleism' about the shield and sprays of
flowers and leaves, which is certainly curious in view of what we must
consider the approximate date of the book-plate; but the arms are in a
Jacobean frame, which stands in a garden. On one side we have a cupid
bearing aloft the lady's family crest, and on the other the husband's
crest and helmet, situated just within the opening of a tent. Lady
Pomfret was the granddaughter of James II.'s infamous Lord Chancellor.
She married Lord Pomfret in 1720, and was Lady of the Bed-chamber to
Queen Caroline from 1713 to 1737, so that we are enabled to fix the date
of this plate within seventeen years, indeed, probably within four
years, for she had a less ambitious, and no doubt earlier, book-plate
engraved for her, which bears the date 1733.
As might be expected, the book-plate of 'Selina, Countess of
Huntingdon,' forms a striking contrast to that last described. Here we
have a plain representation of a coat of arms in a lozenge, and
supported in the orthodox manner. No cupids or other vanities intrude
themselves into this sombre and coarsely executed work, which may be
dated, after the owner became a widow, in 1746, and therefore, after her
'call'--which is, I believe, the correct expression for a sudden
conversion to the form of religion she embraced.
Probably of about the same date as Lady Huntingdon's book-plate is that
of another famous woman of her day, Lady Betty Germain, about whom Swift
has plenty to say in his _Journal to Stella_. On this book-plate a
somewhat funereal effect is produced by the dark background, against
which is the lozenge containing the arms Berkeley impaling Germain; but
the ornamentation of the lozenge, of the name-scroll, and of the frame
enclosing the design, is light and elegant. Poor Lady Betty! she had a
good deal to live down: her girlhood had not been so moral as it might
have been, and the Duchess of Marlborough did her best to make her
friend's misfortunes as public as possible. But for all that, Elizabeth
Berkeley made a good match in point of money, marrying--as his second
wife--Sir John Germain, a soldier of fortune and repute. He left her a
widow in 1718, with Drayton as her home and a vast fortune. Her
widowhood lasted very nearly fifty years, during which she gave away
large sums in charity, as well as spending them on amassing curios:
these, in 1763, Walpole went to look at, and admired.
But we have been digressing, and have not yet spoken about the second of
the two book-plates just now mentioned, that of the Hon. Mrs. Damer,
which, in design and execution, certainly surpasses any ladies'
book-plate yet noticed; it is really a beautiful picture. First let me
speak of Mrs. Damer and her surroundings; her book-plate becomes the
more interesting as we call these to mind. The daughter of Field-Marshal
Henry Seymour Conway, she made for herself, at an early age, a name,
both in England and Italy, as an accomplished sculptress. From
infancy--she was born in 1749--she was the pet of Horace Walpole, and
throughout her life his intimate friend, living, after her husband's[14]
suicide, close to him at Strawberry Hill, which he bequeathed to her by
his will, and where, by the way, the work of her artistic fingers might
be seen in profusion. Friends of herself and of Walpole were Robert
Berry and his daughters Mary and Agnes--'my twin wives,' Walpole calls
them. Mrs. Damer's book-plate is the work of the latter of these two
ladies--Walpole's 'sweet lamb, Agnes.' It shows us a kneeling female
figure, pointing to a newly-cut inscription on a block of stone, 'Anna
Damer';[15] above is a shield bearing the arms of Damer, with those of
Seymour-Conway on an escutcheon of pretence, and on the right and left
of this are elegantly drawn dogs. The work was engraved by Francis
Legat, and is dated '1793.' Miss Mary Berry's book-plate has been
already spoken of (p. 177).
As an illustration to this chapter on ladies' book-plates, I have taken
one which is both artistic and interesting, from the fact that it shows
us--in the figure contemplating the bust--what is presumably a picture
of the owner. I fear, however, that proof of its authenticity as a
likeness sufficient to allow of its incorporation as a 'Portrait'
book-plate (see pp. 216-220) will not be forthcoming; but whether it is
one or not, it is certainly a pleasing book-plate. Frances Anne Acland,
the owner, was born in 1736, became the wife of Richard Hoare of Barne
Elms in 1761 and thus stepmother to Richard Colt Hoare, the future
antiquary and the historian of Wiltshire; she died in the year 1800, and
was buried at Beckenham.
[Illustration]
But all that has been said, so far, concerns the book-plates of English
women. Foreign dames of various nationalities, and our feminine
cousins across the Atlantic (see p. 150), have made a very generous use
of these marks of book-possession. French women of the eighteenth
century have, as the reader of Miss Labouchere's interesting pages on
this part of her subject will see, for the most part, used book-stamps,
many of the most beautiful French bindings gaining an additional
interest and beauty from the coats of arms of their fair owners
impressed upon them. There are, however, a fairly large number of
book-plates known which have belonged to French women, or, at all
events, to women resident in France, and amongst them one to which
attaches pathetic interest from the tragic fate of its owner. I mean
that of the Princesse de Lamballe, who fell a victim to her attachment
to the reigning house of France during the revolting massacres of 1792.
There are such things as 'joint' book-plates--book-plates which have
belonged both to husbands and wives. We meet with some such in England,
though not at a very early date; but in Germany they exist as far back
as 1605. In England the first example, only a printed label, is in
1737--'Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Anne Pain.' Examples of this dual ownership
occur frequently in modern book-plates.
For other points of interest in and about ladies' book-plates the reader
must consult Miss Labouchere's work; all I will do, in concluding my
remarks upon them, is to say that--as might perhaps be expected--in
phrases of book-possession ladies are even more outspoken than
gentlemen; few, however, are so much so as Lady Dorothy Nevill, who
protects her books with the words 'stolen from' placed before her name:
surely she can be no more troubled by borrowers than was the Cavalier
Macciucca (_vide_ p. 171).
FOOTNOTES:
[14] She married, in 1767, the Hon. John Damer, a son of Lord Milton.
[15] A variety of this book-plate exists on which the inscription reads:
'Anna Seymour-Damer.'