This is the tenth of a small series of articles in which I will discuss items that I have either purchased or just seen when visiting antique establishments in Hungerford and elsewhere.
As some of you are aware, I spend a lot of time in Kent which is one of my favourite counties. It is indeed, The Garden of England. Caron and I were in Kent this weekend and as you can imagine, walked into the full force of the gales that were caressing the country at the time. This said, it did not stop us hunting around both bookshops and antique shops in Deal and Folkestone. We found a few interesting collectables, but I will concentrate on books in this short article as I have already written about moon vases and the like.
I have something of a love hate relationship with Oxfam Books whose charity I must add, is second to none. But they do madden me with their odd pricing of books. You often find common Victorian editions of poetry priced at a tenner or more whereas, other more valuable books are moderately priced. In the past, I have nagged them about this and they usually tell me that they check the internet before pricing their stock. This said, I have picked up books signed by both Henry Williamson and Robert Bridges for a song in their shops. I am not proud of this fact and to ease my conscience, have paid over the odds on both occasions. But they could have realised a great deal more at auction. Realistically, it is easy for me as an experienced book collector to say this as I have collected books for many years and to a small extent, know my stuff.
It was the same on our visit to Folkestone on Saturday when after visiting the magnificently restored Folkestone Harbour Railway Station (the last train ran in 2009), I popped into Oxfam Books in the town to shelter from the high winds. Also, my family had retired to a vintage sweet shop nearby and had released me on parole with the understanding that I would not buy more than one book. Books and grandchildren do not mix and add to that the considerable walk to the Folkestone Central station (uphill), then any more unwarranted luggage was a no go.
The shop in Folkestone is very pleasant and I soon gravitated towards the collectables section where I found a number of interesting books (which were well priced). It was as my mobile was telling me that my family were now in the town hall museum, I found the book that I subsequently purchased.
The book in question was The Posthumous Papers of The Pickwick Club by Charles Dickens (Chapman and Hall1865). Although I am not by any means an expert on Dickens, I could see that this was an early edition and a quick visit to a bookseller’s website confirmed that this was a first.
The book, although tired was in reasonable condition and the price quoted on their site was considerably more that the £1.99 that was being asked. I am not fooled by internet prices as they vary from vendor to vendor, but knew that the book was a bargain.
Again, to ease my conscience, I paid a little over the odds (spare change into the Oxfam box), but I still had been on the better end of the deal. This said, I purchased the book for the sheer joy of owning it and as with others, if I do sell any of my more valuable books (which I very rarely do), then a charity will partially benefit. I am not a modern day St Francis, but I believe that one has to be fair.
The second book I purchased was in Deal. Again at Oxfam Books and on this occasion, I paid a fair price (£4.99) for a book that just fascinated me. It was really just a collection of magazines called Pleasant Hours and dated from 1867. But what took my fancy apart from the actual social history of the magazines, was that for some reason somebody had used a couple of random pages from a very obscure Victorian book as a bookmark. It was called The Use of the Senses When Engaged in Contemplating the External World. This obvious bestseller had been written by a Catherine Lake in 1848.
There was a dedication on one of the four surviving pages which read (as far as I can make out);
B Venall her book given ***** by her grandfather Edward Mo*** June 3rd 1868.
I should have been suspicious as the book seemed a little bulky, but as my youngest granddaughter was telling me off for buying yet another picture book, I resolved to investigate the book in more detail later in the day.
So, after Costa Coffee and a trip to the vegetable market, I was able to settle down and study my purchase. I soon found what appeared to be a Victorian envelope wrapper on page fifty-nine as well as the corpse of a long dead insect who had not made it out of page ninety-one alive.
But then on page twenty-three I found what was the most haunting of the enclosures. It was quite simple just a child’s drawing of a Victorian soldier. I am not a military historian, but the drawing was obviously of its time and this was confirmed when I looked on the reverse of the small drawing. The child had used the page of a Victorian letter with the remnants of the copper plate writing still visible.
This is how the unknown Victorian child saw the soldiers of the day. Whether these images originated from story books or just what he or she had seen. The only other clue that I found was that the book had once been owned by a Sarah White who lived in Sellindge in Kent. She had not dated her inscription, but I guess it was added in 1867 or 1868. Perhaps this was Sarah’s drawing, but I am at a loss to confirm this fact.
So in one weekend in two coastal towns in Kent, I found two really interesting books whilst wandering around the Oxfam bookshops. And whilst I have certain reservation as to their pricing, I have always considered that they (as with the larger charity) provide an invaluable source of income for those in need.
From a purely selfish point of view I love spending time in these bookshops and some especially in the university cities are quite amazing.
Recently, I have been in both Canterbury and Oxford and whilst the pricing is sensible in these shops, there is a massive library of books to choose from. In the smaller shops there is still an interesting choice and, it is in these shops that you are liable to come across bargains.
However, I read recently that in the Thame branch of Oxfam Books, a signed Conan Doyle was found and valued correctly and we all read about rare editions being found in charity shops (including Oxfam), and auctioned successfully.
Books can be very hard to value and I consider myself no more than an educated novice. One cannot expect the invaluable people who man these shops to have an in depth knowledge of books. I tend to have a rule of thumb which is to take a second look to see if the book is an antiquarian copy or, if it is an early edition. If the book appears to be signed or has a book plate then this also arouses my curiosity.
I will stop here about the pricing of books in charity shops as my greatest find, (a Leigh Hunt first edition which contained a letter from the great manhimself), was from a recognised bookshop in Wiltshire. But one thing that no shop can allow for are the small finds such as the Victorian soldier and its pals which I found in the book that I purchased in Deal. I could look for the next ten years for these little enclosures and draw a complete blank.
It is fun finding rare and signed editions, but if I was being very truthful. then I think it is the little finds that excite me the most.
The book in question was The Posthumous Papers of The Pickwick Club by Charles Dickens (Chapman and Hall 1865). Although I am not by any means an expert on Dickens, I could see that this was an early edition and a quick visit to a bookseller’s website confirmed that this was a first.
The second book I purchased was in Deal. Again at Oxfam Books and on this occasion, I paid a fair price (£4.99) for a book that just fascinated me. It was really just a collection of magazines called Pleasant Hours and dated from 1867. But what took my fancy apart from the actual social history of the magazines, was that for some reason somebody had used a couple of random pages from a very obscure Victorian book as a bookmark. It was called The Use of the Senses When Engaged in Contemplating the External World. This obvious bestseller had been written by a Catherine Lake in 1848.
There was a dedication on one of the four surviving pages which read (as far as I can make out);