This week the Preservation Lab and the Archives and Rare Books Library hosted a 2-day workshop with the conservator and book historian Julia Miller. The workshop, Identifying and Describing Historical Binding Structure: A Stacks Appraisal Workshop, provided the Preservation Lab staff, University of Cincinnati Libraries’ (UCL) special collections catalogers, and UCL special collections stewards an opportunity to strengthen their skills of historical binding identification and description. We honed our descriptive skills by examining collections from the Archives and Rare Books Library and models/exemplars from Julia’s personal teaching collection.
Julia Miller presenting to the Historical Binding Structures class.
Thanks to Julia Miller, one of the most knowledgeable and giving people that we have had the privilege to learn from.
Thanks to Chris Harter for providing access to so many Archives and Rare Book treasures and a wonderful space to learn and collaborate.
Thanks to Catarina Figueirinhas for suggesting the course and being the on-site coordinator and organizer.
Lastly, thanks to University of Cincinnati Libraries for their continued support of staff professional development!
In February 2019, the Lab received a unique item at the special collections’ meetings for the UC Libraries, a Book of Hours (ms.37) from 1475 from the Archives and Rare Books Library. I was so excited when this book came into the Lab.
This 15th century Book of Hours was in poor condition and in need of conservation treatment. Not only was the binding structure failing and the text block broken in half, but this book was also heavily used as a teaching tool at the ARB library, and in its current condition it could not be safely handled. This was the perfect project for Ashleigh and I to collaborate.
From the beginning, it was decided that in conjunction with the conservation treatment of the Book of Hours, I would create a book model like the original Book of Hours, to be used as a teaching tool in the ARB library collection. In addition, the model would have a leather chemise, a common feature in some Book of Hours of the time.
The Book of Hours MODEL with a removable chemise.
Now here is where this story begins with the model of the Book of Hours. Often, here in the lab, we all create book models for various reasons: to learn about a new treatment, test different treatment options, to understand how some materials work together, and as teaching tools.
As a teaching tool in the ARB library collection, this model needed to resemble the original Book of Hours in its structure and materials used.
The primary goal for this model was to show how a Book of Hours was historically built, its sewing structure, the materials used, and also to provide the ARB library with a book that could be easily handled by students and scholars.
Once the treatment for the Book of Hours was fully established and confirmed with the ARB curator, I was able to start working on the book model. I will save you form reading about all the different steps of making the model, but here are the main features of model:
Endsheets with leather hinge – Two bifolios of calligraphy goat parchment skin wrapped along the spine edge with a hinge of Allum tawed leather (later would be used as pastedowns)
Sewing – Sewn on three double raised cords with a linen 18/3 thread. The dimensions of the text block and sewing holes, were guided from the original sewing holes of the Book of Hours.
Endbands – Primary conservation endband with the bead on the spine, and secondary endband with the bead on the text block.
Spine linings:
Reversible layer of Usu Gami thin and Zen Shofu wheat starch paste.
Slotted Airplane cotton cloth with flanges to be used as board attachments.
Cover
Boards – Oak wood
Board attachment – Boards were laced with the sewing supports through carved channels
Covering material – Full alum tawed leather binding with removable chemise
Clasps – Brass tension clasps (these were created in-house by Chris Voynovich, and he did an amazing job).
Upper cover.Lower cover with the tension clasps (created by Chris)
There was no evidence that the original Book of Hours had clasps, but the curator requested tension clasps for the book model. Clasps were common in the 15th century bookbinding, and this would provide the students with the experience of handling a book with clasps and allow them to understand their function.
pine with three raised bands, bottom weighted.Tension clasps were common in the 15th century. Chris created these using brass plates.As a teaching model, the interior of the upper cover was left exposed to show how the boards were laced and what material was used.On the lower cover, the pastedown was adhered. An alum tawed pastedown was not very common for the time of the Book of Hours.
The curator also requested that one of the pastedowns be kept unattached, so the students could see how the boards were attached to the text block and that they were wooden boards.
In addition, I created a removable chemise, also requested by the curator of the ARB library. In some Books of Hours, it was common to have a leather chemise, but most often they were not removable. The chemise was created from a vegetable tanned goat split skin.
Removable suede chemiseBook model with the chemise attached on the lower cover. The chemise in action.
Video tutorial of how to put on and remove the chemise from the model.
Stay tuned for a future blog post where we will dive into the conservation treatment and research we did on the Book of Hours (ms.37).
Anthro is a prefix meaning human, podermic is a suffix referring to skin, and bibliopegy is the art of binding books. The practice of binding books in human skin began in the 18th century for reasons foreign to our American culture, contemporary to today.
Before the digital age, family members found unique ways to honor and remember their loved ones. Beyond painted portraits, women commonly saved lockets of hair and integrated braided strands into unique and personalized jewelry. In the early days of photography, family portraits were an expensive and rare endeavor for most families. As a result, post mortem photography became common practice during the Victorian era. It’s possible that a post mortem photograph may be the only image a family would ever own of that person!
Likewise, not all anthropodermic books stem from a gory past such as tales told of procuring human corpses for the sake of science. Surprisingly, there are a handful of libraries around the country that claim to have a book or two within their collections with a direct connection to a historic figure, that are bound in honor of that person.
In 2016, the lab was asked to sample the leather of not one, but two bindings for a national survey confirming the existence of these anthropodermic curiosities.
As part of the Anthropodermic Book Project, two Cincinnati books were sampled, one owned by the University of Cincinnati and another owned by the Cincinnati and Hamilton County Public Library. Both were identified as bound in human skin.
Interestingly, both bindings contain 18th century works by Phillis Wheatley – one of the earliest African American writers, titled Poems on various subjects, religious and moral.
Frontispiece and title page of the ARB binding is identical to the CHPL copy.
Both books appear to be bound by the same binder showing similar gold tooling along the spine, but with one major difference. The UC binding is a half leather binding, covered in parchment boards while the PLCH boards are covered in full leather. The source of the human skin – we do not know.
Public library copy on the left is covered in full human leather. The UC copy on the right is covered in half human leather with sheep parchment covered boards. Both contain the title tooled in gold on the spine.
Provenance of Cincinnati Bindings
Documentation of the CHPL copy shows the Phillis Wheatley poems were presented to the Director of the Public Library in 1958, Ernest Miller, by the General Manager of Acres of Books, Bert Smith. Smith refers to, “two copies” of this title which he was able to obtain (the other copy owned by UCL). These were once owned by the Charles F. Heartman Collection as evidenced by the CHPL bookplate. At the bottom of the correspondence to the public library Director, Smith notes that the particular copy is “referred to in paragraph three, page seventy eight, of Walter Hart Blumenthal’s Bookman’s Bedlam…”, where he infers these books may have been bound by Zaehnsdorf bindery in London.
Documentation stored with the CHPL binding
Scientific Test Results
In 2016, samples taken from the books by the lab conservator were sent to scientists to confirm the source of the covering materials. Peptide Mass Fingerprinting (PMF) analysis concluded that there were three species involved with the bindings: human, cattle, and sheep. All leather showed positive results for human, the parchment for sheep, and traces of cattle were most likely present as an adhesive.
Closing Thoughts
Books such as these remind us that in the 18th and 19th century, the human experience of death was much different than we experience today. While today we tend to think of death from a more sterile and distant vantage point, the experience was much more personal in the past. Books bound in human skin would not necessarily have had held the same macabre connotations as they do today.
I especially like how Chris Harter from the Archives and Rare Books department frames the subject, “As uncomfortable as they make us feel, we can’t undo what has been done to create such books, but our main goal should be to be good stewards of the books and their histories.”
Check out the book titled,Dark Archives, by Megan Rosenbloom who writes about the histories of many sampled books and thoroughly writes about Cincinnati bindings in the chapter titled, The Long Shadow of the Night Doctors.
William Howard Taft’s family has strong historical connections to both the city of Cincinnati, and the University. Taft served Cincinnati both as a federal circuit judge and as Dean of the Cincinnati College (the forerunner of The University of Cincinnati). In honor of Taft’s contributions merging the UC law department with Cincinnati College in 1896, a statue was erected in front of the Law building in 1992.
And now, for Halloween, William has made it across campus to the Preservation Lab. And this surprise has taken a gruesome turn. A maquette of Will’s head from the Archives and Rare Books Library collection is aging poorly and in need of treatment and preservation storage. In preparation for bronze casting, Will’s head was sculpted by an artist out of a moldable putty and mounted to a metal rod. It is where the two materials meet that the preservation horrors arise!
A reddish-orange, oily slime is oozing from the interior of the putty down to where the rod stand is secured into a wooden base.
Preliminary research indicates the head is sculpted from a material commonly referred to as plastiline, Apoxie or Milliput. Recipes of putties such as these are vast, but generally contain a filler, a wax, and an oily component such as castor oil or petroleum jelly. Fillers might include clay, starch, talcum or even sulfur depending on the proprietary or homemade concoction. By the 1990’s the negative effects of using sulfur would have been known, so it’s possible that the putty is sulfur-free; however, the possibility should not be discounted. According to plastiline research by Gerhard Eggert, located on the Museum of Fine Arts CAMEO website, putties containing sulfur were preferred by artists for their superior sculpting properties. Another likely alternative is that the putty is suffering from its own inherent vice. In other words, the weeping could be due to the putty’s unstable chemical composition that is leading to its own demise… not to mention off-gassing that might be corroding the metal below!
While the specific type of metal that the head is mounted on is currently a mystery, we do know it is ferrous. Using a magnet, I discovered the metal rod contains a magnetic pull, indicating it is at least partially comprised of iron.
Despite this research, there is one pressing questions left to answer: Is the weeping due to an inherent vice of the putty alone… or is oozing liquid created by a unique chemical reaction resulting from contact between the putty and the metal rod?
The answer to this question will help us to determine whether a barrier between the two materials might help prevent weeping in the future.
In order create a more informed treatment proposal, more research and analytical testing will need to be conducted in order to better understand what is leading to this mysterious preservation horror. Since this project ranges out of scope for the Preservation Lab, the expertise of an Objects Conservator will be sought!
Happy Halloween!
