The pattern of handwriting

Thank you to everyone who joined us at the Hands-on Humanities at NST City yesterday. We hope you enjoyed the opportunity to discover more about printing over the ages and to try your hand at some of the related activities.

Hands-on Humanities printing activity

And there was certainly a great deal of fun to be had trying to write with a quill!

Hands-on Humanities writing activity

In honour of this activity, we have a look in this blog at some of the developments in handwriting in Western Europe over the centuries.

The development of English handwriting from the mid-twelfth century onwards was determined by the increasing demand for books and the rise of the universities, which created a voracious demand for texts and commentaries. This led to different styles of handwriting and a hierarchy of scripts depending on purpose and urgency. For finer quality items, in which the appearance of the book was the most important element, a highly calligraphic and elaborate “display” script known as textura was developed. This formal and conservative Gothic text was to change little between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries, although the degree of embellishment, and the thickness and angle of the strokes did vary from time to time.

Detail of folio from Ordo quatuor evangelistarum in die parascheves, late 14th century – 15th century [MS26/2]

For more utilitarian volumes, smaller simpler handwriting forms were used. By the end of the thirteenth century the cursive script known as Anglicana, that first appeared in England in the twelfth century for the production of documents, was introduced into books as well. This handwriting form predominated until the middle of the fifteenth century.

Example of script used in 1460 [MS36 AO143/2]

One of the features of English handwriting in the fifteenth century was the gradual infiltration of a new script – what became known as secretary – until by the sixteenth century it had become the principal script. Though more angular than the Angliana script, it could be written more swiftly.

Detail from a grant from 1489 [MS41 AO167]

The Renaissance had brought a major reform with the introduction of an entirely new form of handwriting – Italic: this was a cursive script that would lay the foundation of modern handwriting. The spread of Italic was slower in northern Europe, but by the sixteenth century it would appear that the nobility followed royalty in using it for their general correspondence whilst their secretaries continued to employ secretary. By the early part of the seventeenth century the hands became more mixed using letters from both forms of handwriting.

Sample of handwriting from 1695 [MS41 AO167]

The influence of the writing-masters saw this mixed hand refined further until it developed into what became known as round hand and swept the continent in the eighteenth century.

Detail of a list of pictures at Broadlands written in 1764 [MS62 BR101/34]

Handwriting was to become more individual in character as we moved into the nineteenth century and this has been a feature from that period onwards, in particular with developments in paper and writing implements.

An example of handwriting from 1871 [MS62 BR103/9/32]

For more on the wonders of handwriting and how to read old documents, why not look at the Special Collections introduction to palaeography.

“You have a minute, Lord?”: The Papers of David Kossoff

To mark the 100th anniversary of the birth of David Kossoff on Sunday 24th November, we focus this week’s blog post on his papers here.

David Kossoff [MS348 A2084 6/2]

Born on 24 November 1919 at the Mothers’ Hospital, Clapton, London, David Kossoff was the son of Russian Jewish immigrants, Lewis (Louis) Kossoff, and his wife, Annie, née Shaklovich. Growing up in Hackney, Kossoff attended an elementary school in east London, and trained at art and architecture schools, including the Northern Polytechnic until 1937. He worked as a commercial artist, a draughtsman and a furniture designer. At the age of 23, he decided to try something new, which would improve his life after years of seeing the poverty of his parents. This was acting.

Part of a letter written to David Kossoff regarding an audition, 1940s [MS348 A2084 7/2]

Kossoff made his debut with the Left-wing Unity Theatre during World War Two, starring in the play Spanish Village, which was about the Spanish Civil War. He stayed with the company for three years, writing and directing as well as acting for shows performed for members of the services and for people protecting themselves from air-raids. He then spent six years with the BBC Repertory Company, before making his West End debut in Peter Ustinov’s comedy The Love of Four Colonels (Wyndham’s, 1952), replacing the author as Colonel Alexander Ikonenko. In giving a convincing and heavily praised performance, it was this part that convinced Kossoff that he could work as an actor full-time. Such a performance would lead to Kossoff playing a KGB spy in the film The Iron Petticoat (1956), starring Katharine Hepburn and Bob Hope.

The Walthamstow Avenue Football Club “Pando Playtime” programme, produced by David Kossoff [MS348 A2084 7/2]

Kossoff created one of his most memorable parts in 1953 at the Arts Theatre, which was Morry the guilt-ridden tailor in The Bespoke Overcoat. This was adapted from a Gogol short story by Wolf Mankowitz. Kossoff repeated his acclaimed performance in Jack Clayton’s film version, which won a prize for best short film at the Venice Film Festival. At the same theatre, Kossoff appeared as Tobit in a revival of James Bridie’s Tobias and the Angel, and in Ustinov’s No Sign of the Dove, he was Professor Lodegger.

Poster advertising No Sign of the Dove by Peter Ustinov, Theatre Royal, Brighton, 2 Nov 1953 [MS348 A2084 2/16]

Film appearances also include Wolf Mankowitz’s A Kid For Two Farthings (1955), for which Kossoff gained a British Academy award for his role as an elderly confidant of a boy who believes his one-horned goat is a unicorn. Such an award established Kossoff’s status as a ‘natural’ for playing Jewish men, often aged and certainly knowledgeable, generous, and empathetic.

“Dear David, I was so impressed by your performance last night that I feel I must write & congratulate you on it. It was one of the most moving things I’ve seen on the stage, but it wasn’t just that it was a good part – & how often one is apt to mistake that for good acting – but the restraint with which you played it.” [Quote from a letter written to David Kossoff, 7 Apr 1945, MS348 A2084 7/2]

Kossoff also starred in The Young Lovers (1954), I Am A Camera (1955), The Mouse That Roared (1959) and The Mouse On The Moon (1963), and John Huston’s Freud (1962). In Philip Leacock’s emotional Innocent Sinners (1958), Kossoff and Barbara Mullen play a caring, tough couple who, with the help of a solitary spinster, are able to adopt a disruptive teenager. Kossoff’s last film was Staggered (1994).

Publicity leaflet for Kossoff’s film debut as Szobek in The Young Lovers, 1954 [MS348 A2084 2/12]

In the late 1950s, Kossoff was most notable for his role as Alf Larkin, a rural old rogue in the television series The Larkins, which was based on the novels of H.E. Bates and first broadcast in 1958. The programme became so popular, that Kossoff, went on to star in a screen version, Inn for Trouble, in which his character Alf and his wife Peggy inherit a run-down pub. Kossoff also had great success performing his own material, such as in his play On Such a Night (Big Night for Shylock) (1969), where he plays an actor-manager playing Shylock in a touring edition of The Merchant of Venice.

David Kossoff performing in the play On Such a Night (Big Night for Shylock) [MS348 A2084 6/1]

In 1957 he compiled a one-man show at the Arts Theatre, With One Eyebrow Slightly Up, and in 1963 he performed another one-man show, Kossoff at the Prince Charles, which he later took to Adelaide and New York, with the title, A Funny Kind of Evening with David Kossoff.

Programme for A Funny Kind of Evening With David Kossoff at The Leicester Phoenix Theatre, July 1969 [MS348 A2084 2/12]

Kossoff was also famous for his story-telling skills, especially in terms of reinterpreting the Bible. In 1961 he started reading his own adaptations of Bible stories on “Thought for the Day” on the radio, and their success led to published works such as The Book of Witnesses in the 1970s, and his own TV series, Storytime, telling his bible stories with a charming wit and self-critical humour. From the TV programme Kossoff’s square beard, heavy spectacles, and furrowed brow became his trademark.

Part of manuscript for The Book of Witnesses [MS348 A2084 1/2/3]

After his success in telling Bible stories on radio and television, he played in another one-man show, As According to Kossoff from 1970. He also went on to write many publications, such as Bible Stories, retold by David Kossoff (1968); The Three Donkeys (1972); The Voices of Masada (1973), The Little Book of Sylvanus (1975), You Have a Minute, Lord? (1977), A Small Town is a World (1979), based on nineteenth-century Russian Jewish folk tales, Sweet Nutcracker (1985), and The Old and the New (2002). Many of these works were written or corrected while Kossoff waited in his dressing room to make his entrance in plays.

David Kossoff at You Have a Minute, Lord? book signing [MS348 A2084 1/6]

Tragedy hit Kossoff in 1976 when his second son Paul, guitarist with the rock group Free, died from a heart attack at 25 as a result of a heroin addiction. Kossoff thereafter became an anti-drugs campaigner and set up the Paul Kossoff Foundation. Kossoff even constructed a show called The Late Great Paul which he performed at a number of schools, providing pupils an insight into the dangers of drug abuse. Kossoff had earlier planned to give the proceeds from a year of one-man shows to charity in appreciation for his son’s recovery from a serious heart attack in 1975. After Paul’s death, Kossoff continued with the shows, declaring them a memorial to his son.

Tour plan for David Kossoff’s year for charity, 1976 [MS348 A2084 7/4]

Kossoff died of cancer of the colon on 23 March 2005. The actor, writer and raconteur gained popularity from being able to see the comical side of Jewishness and religion. He had the ability to entertain a wide society without causing offence because he could also make fun of himself.

Letter from a fan, 21 January 1972 [MS348 A2084 1/2/3]

The MS348 Papers of David Kossoff provide a valuable insight into Kossoff’s roles as an actor, writer, and raconteur. Not only are there photographs and programmes, but also notes and illustrations for his publications, and notebooks and manuscripts for his works on Bible stories. Scripts, newspaper cuttings, and fan mail also feature.

Part of manuscript on Rabbi series Bible stories from notebook [MS348 A2084 1/14]

Material from the David Kossoff collection is on display in our current exhibition A Philanthropic Spirit in our exhibition gallery on level 4 of Hartley Library. To find out more click here: https://level4gallery.wordpress.com/current-exhibition/a-philanthropic-spirit/

David Kossoff at Bible Stories book signing event [MS348 A2084 1/18]

 

Happy Birthday Henry Robinson Hartley

Today we mark the birthday of Henry Robinson Hartley (1777-1850) whose bequest to the town of Southampton led (eventually) to the creation of its University.

Henry Robinson Hartley’s birth recorded in his father’s Prayer Book (1750) [Rare Books Hartley Coll. BX 5145]

Born to Henry and Susannah Hartley, a prosperous wine merchant and his wife, Henry might well have been expected to join the family business and to take an active part in local affairs – as had his father and his great-uncle, George Robinson. This would have been a fitting life for a man who bequeathed the bulk of his fortune to his home town to “promote the study and advancement of the sciences of Natural History, Astronomy, Antiquities, Classical and Oriental Literature” and for the “formation of a public library, garden, observatory and collection of objects connected with the sciences mentioned”. But in Henry Robinson Hartley, the University has a founder whose life followed a very different pattern.

Photograph of the portrait of Henry Robinson Hartley, aged nine [MS1/Phot/39/ph 3000]

After an unremarkable childhood, during which he attended Southampton’s Grammar School – where his friend, John Bullar recalled him as “studious, pleasant and gentlemanly”, Henry Robinson Hartley’s life went somewhat off the rails.

Grammar School at Southampton, late 18th century in: Views in Hampshire, v.4 no.182 [Rare Books Cope ff 91.5]

At the age of twenty-one he made an unfortunate marriage, causing him to become estranged from his father and therefore not to inherit the fortune he had anticipated on Henry senior’s death in 1800. Within four years his marriage was annulled – his wife Celia, giving birth to a daughter who was almost certainly not his child, and there followed a period of “systematic licentiousness” before Henry returned to Southampton to live with his mother. Best described as an eccentric recluse, Henry appears to have passed his time in pursuing his studies of natural history and languages, making travel plans which never came to fruition and using his diary and other writings to record his thoughts on the rigid and complacent nature of English society.

On his mother’s death in 1821, Henry finally inherited his fortune and a few years later, disapproving of the increasingly commercial character of the High Street which disturbed his peaceful, tree-lined garden, he left Southampton for good. For the last twenty-six years of his life he lived in Calais and London, making only brief visits to Southampton.

The High Street houses and tree-lined gardens belonging to Henry Robinson Hartley can be seen in the copy of the 1846 map of Southampton [Rare Books Cope cf SOU 90.5 1846]

The ‘Hartley Bequest’ revealed on Henry’s death in 1850 was something of a shock to all concerned, given his long absence from the town. After minor bequests to family and servants, the Corporation was to receive the residue of the estate, valued at just over £100,000. Unsurprisingly, Henry’s relatives contested the will and the costs of the subsequent legal proceedings and the settlement agreed by Henry’s supposed daughter swallowed up a large proportion of the estate. The Corporation was left with £42,525 and a dilemma as to how best to carry out Henry’s wishes.

Henry’s Letter of Instruction was quite clear on the point that he wished the “select scientific public” to benefit from his generosity rather than the whole population of the town. Of the different proposals aired in the local press, the establishment of a college along the lines of Owens College, Manchester seemed the most appropriate, but the reduced size of the bequest made the scheme for an institution providing popular adult education more achievable and the Hartley Institution opened on 15 October 1862.

The opening of the Hartley Institution 15 October 1862, photograph of an engraving of Lord Palmerston arriving. [MS1/Phot/39/ph 3026]

Would Henry Robinson Hartley have approved of the outcome of his bequest? According to his biographer, Alexander Anderson, the traditional concept of a University as a place where knowledge is pursued for its own sake would have been more likely to meet with his approval than the Hartley Institution, but in his primary aim of preserving his High Street houses and possessions, he would have been disappointed. The houses and gardens were demolished to make way for the Hartley Institution, his papers were destroyed by his trustees who judged them obscene and blasphemous and his other belongings dispersed. All that remained were his books – the first of the Library’s printed Special Collections.

Henry Robinson Hartley’s copy of The First Book of the Fables of Phaedrus (1775) Rare Books Hartley Coll. PA 6563

Henry Robinson Hartley’s copy of John Latham’s A General Synopsis of Birds v.1 (1781) Rare Books Hartley Coll. QL 673

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Henry’s diary and writings were quoted extensively by both sides in the legal proceedings relating to his bequest and these form the basis of Hartleyana: being some account of the life and opinions of Henry Robinson Hartley, scholar, naturalist, eccentric and founder of the University of Southampton by Alexander Anderson (1987).

University Developments Through Time: Has anybody here seen Kelly?

Have you heard that a skeleton once haunted Southampton’s halls of residence and refectories? O.K., so that’s stretching the truth a little! But it is true that a skeleton was often present at University events, as documented by images from our photographic collections. This blog post will attempt to get to the bottom of the mystery of Kelly the skeleton, namely her origins, purpose and current whereabouts.

A photograph of Kelly from 1891 [MS1 7/291/22/1/0001]

The story of Kelly goes back to the very beginnings of the Institution. A skeleton was purchased by Mr Dodds, Principal of Art at the School of Art, in France in 1886; the activities of the Southampton School of Art were incorporated into the Hartley Institution in 1867. An alternative history was that the bones were fished out of the water at Southampton Docks; we feel this is less likely!

As well as acting a model for art students, other legitimate reasons for a late nineteenth-century educational institution to own a skeleton were for bone examination in anatomical lectures and demonstration purposes in physical training instruction periods. Reports have stated that the skeleton was formed from a mixture of both female and male bones.

Male students wearing formal college dress with Kelly, 1921 or 1922 [MS1/Phot/39/ph3177]

How Kelly passed from the possession of authorities to the ownership of the student body we do not yet know; a former student reported that Kelly was “found” in a cupboard in the Arts room in 1910. Kelly became a slightly macabre mascot for the students, often present at Rag fundraisers and other events; in later years she was transferred to the possession of the Engineers.

Freshers week, September 1925. The text reads “Come all ye freshers bow down & worship.” And you thought modern initiation ceremonies were weird! [MS1/Phot/39/ph3174]

Perhaps it was the students who decided on the name Kelly, a derivative of skeleton or skelly. A popular music hall ditty circa 1910 was “Has anybody here seen Kelly”: this may have helped to settle on a name. It became one of the College “anthems” sung with great solemnity by students, to the tune of the Lost Chord, when the occasion fitted.

The Rag Bag, 1929

The skeleton was a popular member of academic life while studies were still based Below Bar and it always carried in students’ processions and on view at functions. He made the move to Highfield, along with everyone else as, in the summer of 1924, he was able to welcome the then Prince of Wales when the latter visited Southampton. Geoffrey Smith, who was a student here 1923-6, recalls the Rag in the summer of 1926. The students paraded through the town and Kelly was drawn by members of the Engineering Faculty on the chassis of an old car, driven by Smith and owned by the Engineers.

The provincial Universities ran a London dance known as the P.U.B. (Provincial Universities Ball) and on one occasion in the 1930s Kelly was taken to London and wired up electronically so that her eyes shone.

Photograph of Kelly from the Goblio 1949

Reports from the 1950s state that she was kept in a coffin in the Junior Common Room. Keith Way, a student for the 1947-53 sessions recollected: “I do remember Kelly hanging about in the West Building [now the Students Union] but I think he only appeared in public on Rag days.” A further report was that “in 1953 he was torn to pieces at the Engineering Faculty Ball.”

The Hartleyan of 1953 reports that to celebrate the granting of university status, the London branch of the Hartley Society organised a “Kelly” for the P.U.B. complete with deputy (hired from a natural history supplier) followed by a “Gobli”. The 30 members present at the ball made “quite a good procession for Kelly”.

“Captain Kelly” from the Goblio, 1952

Another alumnus, Pamela Wateres, adds her memories to the record: 

I know that Kelly spent a night in Highfield Hall at some time in the academic year 1953 to 54. How we got him in there any way, I don’t know, but he was accommodated, I think, on top south. When we tried to get a taxi for him back to the Union building, the local drivers refused to carry a coffin, so we had to woman-handle him back along the path and in through the garden. […] Legend in my time was that Kelly was originally dredged up from Southampton harbour – and was really female. He/she was then the union mascot, but was from time to time hi-jacked by the Engineers, who were supposed to keep him/her in a wind tunnel.

[MS 224/35 A788/5]

Engineering Faculty, 1955-56. Can you spot Kelly in his coffin? [MS310/38 A2025/2]

As the years progress, the references to Kelly become less frequent although snippets from the Hartleyan keep us informed. From 1956, Kelly was no longer the University mascot. At a Union meeting it was decided by 110 votes to 28 to dispense with the skeleton’s services; it was agreed to transfer overship to the Engineers. Kelly was present at the hustings preceding the election of the president of the Students’ Union in late January 1959. She was escorted to the meeting in a padded coffin by a guard of Engineers.

The most recent photograph of Kelly is on this rather garish cover of Goblio from 1961.

The Goblio from 1961. The slogan below read “We’ll collect from anybody”

Currently, the last known sighting of was in 1986 when she attended a welcome talk given by Academic Registrar Chris Swann. The whereabouts of Kelly the skeleton are no longer known. But we are hoping our readers might be able to shed light on the mystery. Maybe some alumni can add to the historical record with their own memories of Kelly?

Copies of the Goblio, Hartleyan and other student/alumni publications are available in the University Collection (Special Collections open access). Archival references come from the file MS 224/35 A788/5.

 

University Developments Through Time: the Hartley Institution Museum collections

When the University finally moved to the Highfield site in 1919, there was a real sense of loss by residents of Southampton as they were no longer able to enjoy the Library and Museum of the “old Hartley”.

Site of the Hartley Institution [MS1/Phot/39 ph3005b]

Henry Robinson Hartley had expressed a wish in his will that all the effects in his house be preserved as a museum – an idea that was not considered with particular approbation by those who had to run the Institution. The scientist Lyon Playfair, appointed by the Hartley Bequest Committee to inspect Hartley’s house in Southampton and consider the possibilities for development, looked askance at the suggestion. He was to note that a local museum “is likely to be a sink for all the collected rubbish of the neighbourhood and soon becomes an incongruous assemblage of tattooed heads, shrivelled crocodiles, moth-eaten birds and the like”.  The assessment of T.W.Shore, Executive Officer of the Institution 1875-95, was of the Museum as an accumulation of “miscellaneous objects from all quarters and all climates, illustrative of anything in general and no special branch of knowledge in particular”.

Two council minute books of the Hartley Institution [MS1/MBK/1/3-4]

An examination of the council minute books and reports of the Hartley Institution, which are held in the Special Collections, provide a fascinating insight into the array of material accumulated by the Museum from its start to the early part of the 20th century. The donations reflect something of the trends for collecting in the late Victorian and Edwardian eras.

The Hartley Institution Report from 1871 gives a flavour of the range of items offered.  As well as a number of  Natural History specimens, including a collection of snakes from Central America, the skull of a tiger presented by Captain Sharp of SS Wales, and a flamingo from the Cape of Good Hope, there were a collection of Chinese and Japanese objects, specimens of crystallised arsenious acid and of Gorgonian coral, and a number of specimens “chiefly of a geological nature”.

Hartley Institution Report to 30 June 1871 [MS1/MBK/1/1]

Natural History specimens – in particular birds – geological specimens and archaeological finds were to feature notably in the donations received over the decades. From the late 1880s onwards, the twice yearly reports of the Hartley Institution note the donations of considerable numbers of local geological specimens from the Hampshire chalk unearthed during the New Dock Evacuation at Southampton. With the turn of the century the Museum was still acquiring sizeable collections, including a collection of local fossils made by the late Revd Compton given by his son in January 1902.

Many of these archaeological finds were from the local area and quite a number came from the collections of clergymen collectors. One of the first offered to the Museum, which was declined due to lack of space, was that of Charles Stewart Montgomerie Lockhart of St Mary Bourne, Andover, which included  many Roman, Saxon and other finds from sites near his home. Amongst other archaeological items to find their way to the Museum was a collection of Palaeolithic weapons found on Southampton Common donated in 1883, and further Palaeolithic weapons donated by Mr Wateford of Nursling in 1885; a collection of coins and other “relics” found at Longstock Church donated by Revd W.Drewe in 1885; flint flakes struck off a flint core by prehistoric man and the tooth of a rhinoceros from beneath the brick earth of the Lower Thames, Crayford in Kent donated in 1888.

Interior of Museum, c.1910 [MS1/Phot/39 ph3039]

Other items accepted for the Museum represented a more esoteric and far ranging selection: there was a Peruvian mummy donated by Captain Revett, RMC, in September 1876; a Chinese bow and arrow donated by Mr Derrick in 1878;  a crocodile reputedly brought from Egypt by General Gordon, donated by W.E.Darwin in 1888; and several boomerangs donated by Mr J.I.Peet of Perth, Western Australia, in July 1902.

Detail of floor plan of Hartley Institution building including Museum

The Museum’s collection in all its array was not to make the move to the Highfield campus, although a geological museum was formed on the new site.

Look out for our last University Through Time blog which will feature Kelly the skeleton, a much loved mascot for the College and an object that probably would not have felt too out of place with the other objects of the Hartley Institution Museum.