Issue 12: Summer 2011

MAGAZINE Summer 2011 / ISSUE 12

£3.50

IN PLANE VIEW

Central London through the eyes of Hugh Johnson, passionate dendrologist

SCIENCE IN A SECULAR AGE Frank James on the complex relationship between science and religion

HERALDRY & GENEALOGY David Gelber takes us inside the Library’s fascinating historical collections

CONTENTS

The London Library Magazine / issue 12

12 Hugh Johnson casts his passionate dendrologist’s eye over the trees of central London

FROM THE LIBRARIAN....................... 5 Contributors................................ 6 BEHIND THE BOOK............................ 9 Historian and actor Ian Kelly on some of the titles he used while researching his three recent biographies

bibliotherapy................................10

16 Is science to blame for the secularisation of modern society? Frank James examines the accepted notion of a conflict between science and religion.

The novelist Harriet Evans finds Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle possesses the perfect therapeutic qualities for lifting the spirit

A DENDROLOGIST IN ST JAMES’S..... 12 Hugh Johnson on the dominance of the plane tree in London’s parks and squares

SCIENCE & RELIGION.........................16 Scientists today rarely declare any religious dimension to their work, and yet the issue of

19 From 16th-century heraldic treatises to Burke’s Peerage, the Library’s collections are particularly rich in volumes on heraldry and genealogy.

David Gelber reveals how books from different periods reflect changing attitudes to society and the past.

potential ‘conflict’ between science and religion was hotly debated in the past, as Frank James discusses

HIDDEN CORNERS............................ 19 David Gelber discovers that the Library’s collection of titles on heraldry and genealogy offers an illuminating view of social history

TOWARDS THE KING JAMES BIBLE.... 22

22 The London Library possesses two copies of the first editions of the King James Bible. Dunia García-Ontiveros traces its origins from William Tyndale’s English Bible translations to Matthew’s Bible, the Geneva Bible and the Bishops’ Bible, citing valuable examples that are held in the Library collections.

MEMBERS’ NEWS............................. 24 SHOPPING........................................ 28 EATING OUT.................................... 31

p THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 3

FROM THE LIBRARIAN

D On the cover

Plane tree in St James's Park. © Hugh Johnson 2011.

ifficult as it is to believe, The London Library Magazine is now three years old. Conceived as a cost-effective means of communicating with members – a magazine enables us to offset costs by carrying advertising, which our old, rather unimpressive newsletters could not – it has proved also to be a marvellous showcase for the diversity of our membership and the breadth of work facilitated by the Library’s collections. Thanks to all of you who have told us how much you enjoy reading it.

The feedback we receive about the magazine regularly relates, approvingly, to its layout, so we hope Issue 12’s refreshed look will continue to please those with an eye for design. This issue also introduces a new regular feature, Bibliotherapy, in which contributors ‘prescribe’ a book to address one of life’s joys or challenges. Harriet Evans begins the series beautifully, with the novel she turns to when she needs cheering up.

Elsewhere in the magazine, Hugh Johnson take a seasonal look at the trees of central London, Frank James tackles the vexed issue of the relationship between science and religion, and David Gelber takes us through the Library’s rich holdings in heraldry and genealogy. In this year of celebration of the King James Bible, Dunia García-Ontiveros, our Head of Bibliographic Services, also tells of one of her more striking, and wonderfully timely, discoveries.

There is important information on page 24 of Members’ News on the different ways you can read this year’s Annual Report, plus an update on the Library’s online activity. Our new website will be going live very shortly, with a dedicated Members’ section bringing you essential services and updates.

Finally, this issue comes with a leaflet on legacies enclosed. On page 26 you can read more about some of our donors and how their legacies have helped to enrich and secure the Library for future readers. The gifts detailed here are substantial but each and every legacy, irrespective of its monetary value, plays a crucial role in helping the Library to flourish.

Please contact the Development Office if you would like more information on legacies and other ways of joining our many generous donors; and enjoy a bright, book-filled summer.

Inez T.P.A. Lynn Librarian

Published on behalf of The London Library by Royal Academy Enterprises Ltd. Colour reproduction by adtec. Printed by Tradewinds London. Published 30 June 2011 © 2011 The London Library. The opinions in this particular publication do not necessarily reflect the views of The London Library. All reasonable attempts have been made to clear copyright before publication.

Editorial Publishers Jane Grylls and Kim Jenner Editor Mary Scott Design and Production Catherine Cartwright Research Guy Scott

Editorial Committee David Breuer Lottie Cole Aimée Heuzenroeder Peter Parker Erica Wagner

Advertising Jane Grylls 020 7300 5661 Kim Jenner 020 7300 5658 Emily Pierce 020 7300 5675 Development Office, The London Library Lottie Cole 020 7766 4716 Aimée Heuzenroeder 020 7766 4734

Magazine feedback and editorial enquiries should be addressed to development@londonlibrary.co.uk

THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 5

CONTRIBUTORS Harriet Evans

© Roderick Field

joined the library in 2009

Harriet Evans was born in London, where she still lives. Until 2008 she worked in publishing, first at Penguin then at Headline, as editorial director, before leaving to write full-time. She is a Sunday Times Top Ten bestseller and is published around the world. Her first novel, Going Home, came out in 2005 and her fifth, Love Always, is out in paperback this month.

Dunia García-Ontiveros library staff member since 2007

A graduate in Archaeology, Classics and Classical Art, with an MA in Library and Information Studies, Dunia worked as a librarian at the College of Law of England and Wales, the Courtauld Institute and the National Maritime Museum before coming to St James’s Square. In 2011 Dunia became the Library’s Head of Bibliographic Services, following the merger of the Current and Retrospective Cataloguing teams.

David Gelber

joined the library in 2002

David Gelber writes about heraldry. He was educated at the London School of Economics and the University of Oxford.

Frank James

joined the library in 2008

Frank A.J.L. James is Professor of the History of Science at the Royal Institution. He is editor of the Correspondence of Michael Faraday (6 vols., 1991–2012) and recently published Michael Faraday: A Very Short Introduction (2010).

Hugh Johnson

joined the library in the 1970s

Hugh Johnson has been writing about wine, trees, travel and gardening in books and magazines since the 1960s. His many books include The World Atlas of Wine (1971), The Principles of Gardening (1979), The Story of Wine (1989) and his annual Pocket Wine Book.

His latest book is Trees: a lifetime’s journey through forests, woods and gardens (2010).

His online Tradescant’s Diary appears quarterly in Hortus magazine.

Ian Kelly

joined the library in 2004

Ian Kelly is a historian and actor. His books include the biographies Beau Brummell (2005, shortlisted for the Marsh Biography Prize and adapted as a BBC film), Casanova (2009, Sunday Times Biography of the Year) and Cooking For Kings (2003). He has just returned from acting in the Broadway run of the National Theatre’s play by Lee Hall, The Pitmen Painters.

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BEHIND THE BOOK

In the footsteps of St James’s lost demi-monde Ian Kelly © 2011.

‘

The writer and actor Ian Kelly describes the highlights of the Library’s collection of books on 18th- and 19th-century London society discovered while researching his three most recent biographies

The area around the London Library has closely informed the three biographies I have written, not least because Beau Brummell, Giacomo Casanova and the 18th-century comedian and one-legged wit Samuel Foote all lived within yards of St James’s Square. Brummell’s family hailed from Bury Street, Casanova lived on Pall Mall and Sam Foote ran the Theatre Royal Haymarket. Fortunately, their London years can be re-imagined through the Library’s eclectic collection.

 Du dandysme et de Georges Brummell

by Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly (Paris 1879), trans. George Walden as ‘On Dandyism and George Brummell’ in his book Who’s a Dandy? (London 2002). Both Biog.

Brummell.

The best overview on dandyism, the craze that originated in the area of London near St James’s in the early years of the nineteenth century and gave rise, in effect, to Savile Row tailoring and the Suit, comes, ironically, from a Frenchman. The Library has early French editions of Barbey d’Aurevilly’s influential work as well as various translations, my favourite being from former diplomat and linguist George Walden, which comes with an accompanying essay, equally elegant, on modern dandies.  The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, Written by Herself (London 1825); and The Courtesan’s Revenge: Harriette Wilson, the Woman Who Blackmailed the King by Frances Wilson (London 2003). Both Biog.

Wilson.

Harriette Wilson caused a sensation in Regency London by publishing her scandalous memoirs in instalments, giving her numerous previous lovers an opportunity to buy themselves out of forthcoming editions, thus prompting, so the story goes, the Duke of Wellington to tell her to ‘publish and be damned’ . Luckily she was published, and quite possibly damned, but as a result of her words and the recent

brilliant contextualising work of Frances Wilson (no relation I believe) we have a female perspective on St James’s demimonde, presided over by ‘demi-reps’ or Cyprians – courtesans – like Harriette.  A Regency Visitor: The English Tour of Prince Pückler-Muskau described in his letters 1826–1828, ed. E.M. Butler, trans.

Sarah Austin (London 1957). T. Foreign Impressions of England.

Where Casanova is keenly observant on London manners and mores in 1763 (he even had one celebrated encounter here in St James’s Square), Prince Pückler-Muskau provides one of the fullest records of later Georgian and Regency London. His eye for human detail makes him an invaluable source.  Gentleman’s Magazine and the Alfred and Westminster Evening Gazette.

Periodicals.

Historians can all too easily lose themselves in Periodicals, in the ephemera contemporary to the subject in hand.

The Gentleman’s Magazine – the Library has monthly editions from 1731 to 1907 – furnishes breezy digests of London life and news, along with obituaries and even weather reports: a goldmine. The shortlived Alfred and Westminster Evening Gazette (early nineteenth century) is good on theatre and society gossip: where else would we find not only the notice of Brummell’s debts but also a review of the play he saw the night he fled London, the

’

aptly titled Love, Law and Physic?  The Casanova Tour: A Handbook for the Use of the Private Travelling Carriage in 18th-Century Europe and America

by Pablo Günther (Lindau 1999). Biog.

Casanova, 4to.

This eccentric work is exactly why I love the London Library. Its freewheeling mix of personal travelogue, modern maps and Casanova fixation understandably struggled to find a publisher; rightly it has found its place in the bookstacks here. Nowhere else can one find the facts, figures, currencies and distances involved in getting about Europe in the Age of Reason, or a better example of what happens if you really do follow in the footsteps of a written record (this took more than two decades to research).  Memoirs of the Lady Hester Stanhope: As Related by Herself in Conversation with her Physician by Lady Hester Stanhope, ed. Dr C.L. Meryon (3 vols., London 1845).

Mod., Stanhope, Hester.

Rumour has it that the makers of the film The King’s Speech are looking next at the life and times of Hester Stanhope, niece of William Pitt the Younger, chatelaine of Downing Street, intrepid Middle East explorer and proto-feminist. There have been a number of very adept recent biographies, but the memoirs themselves are rich terrain for the social historian of the Regency; like being guided round the Brighton Pavilion by Virginia Woolf.

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THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 9

BIBLIOTHERAPY

Novelist Harriet Evans recommends the book she turns to when, quite simply, she needs cheering up

I CAPTURE THE CASTLE DODIE SMITH I Capture the Castle (1949) is my favourite book. I don’t say that lightly; like any bibliophile I have many contenders for the title, but this edges ahead for many reasons, not least because of its therapeutic qualities; I would also recommend it for writer’s block, and homesickness, but we’ll come on to that.

It takes the form of a journal, written by the teenage Cassandra Mortmain, about her and her penniless family, living in a dilapidated Suffolk castle in the mid1930s. When the heir of nearby Scoatney Hall and his brother return from America to open up the house, Cassandra’s whole family benefits, in different ways.

I read this book when I need taking out of myself for a while. For me, no book has quite the magically engrossing qualities of I Capture the Castle. Christopher Isherwood wrote to Dodie Smith that it was ‘a book that will be very much lived in by many people; you can live in it, like Dickens’ . Cassandra grows up throughout the book, ‘capturing’ her family and their lives, becoming a fine writer in the process, and falling in love. It’s anything but cosy romance, though. Cassandra’s awakening sexuality and her feelings for the man she loves are visceral. The ending is one of the most unusual in all fiction, too. I’ve read it ten, fifteen times and each time can’t decide what will happen to her after the final page.

The story flows seemingly effortlessly: it’s charming, in all senses of the word.

And yet, if you read Valerie Grove’s fantastic biography of Dodie Smith, Dear

Dodie (1997), you see every line was agonised over, corrected and recorrected.

You can hear Cassandra’s family – her ex-model stepmother Topaz, who likes to commune with nature, naked; her beautiful, selfish but still sympathetic sister Rose; and her difficult father, struggling with writer’s block (Cassandra’s cure for this is so dramatic it makes me scurry back to my desk in gratitude). I loathe it when people assume my novels are based on real life, as if I don’t have imagination enough to invent characters; I Capture the Castle is the only novel in which, even knowing they’re not real, I still can’t quite believe the characters don’t exist, somewhere.

The book is perfect for remembering England when it seems far away. I couldn’t put my finger on why it’s so nostalgic, without being sentimental, until I discovered that Smith wrote it in America during the war. Her soonto-be husband Alec Beesley was a conscientious objector and the couple left England in early 1939. There’s a sense of homesickness and guilt at being absent from the country she loves in its hour of need that contributes significantly to the shimmering, dream-like quality of the book. It loves England, in the way I love England: ‘oh, not flags and Kipling and outposts of Empire and such, but the country and London and houses like Scoatney. ’ There’s so much in I Capture the Castle that it expands to suit your mood, I’ve found. I’ve read it when I’m down

cure for ‘Cassandra’s writer’s block is so

dramatic it makes me scurry back to my desk in gratitude

10 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

’

Above, from top Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle (1949), first edition; 1999 edition.

in the depths of winter, and it offers the promise of spring; in the height of summer, when the greenery and beauty can be too much; when I’ve been desperately, foolishly in love, when I think I can’t write another line ever again; and every time it soothes me like cool water.

It is so much more than a coming of age novel. It’s hopeful, funny, sharp, wise – and gripping, as every really good piece of bibliotherapy ultimately should be.

A Dendrologist in

St James’S Hugh Johnson’s passion for trees began at an early age.

Here he discusses the origins and nature of the species to be found in the heart of the capital.

A

botanist parachuted into St James’s Square might think he had landed in a forest of planes. A salubrious suburb, indeed, implanted in such a forest. But his forays to the west into the Green Park, and south into St James’s Park, would leave him with much the same impression. There are ornamental additions, but central London’s parks and squares show every sign of having one dominant native tree: the plane.

It’s a funny sort of forest, though.

Most of its trees seem to be about the same age; impressive specimens showing no sign of senility. The apparent grandparents of the wood have strange deformed conic bases knobbled with great warts. Yet none have split or fallen.

Overhead wave their high-arching, hanging branches, weighted with strings of hard spiky fruit. Their fallen leaves are hard, too, and blow noisily about instead of forming a moist mulch.

Most noticeable of all are their straight columns of trunks, peeling in random flakes to open pale patches of buff or ivory, sometimes green-tinged, as monumental as lichened stone. There is something reptilian about the way 12 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

The type tree of London’s parks and squares: the plane forms a stony column of trunk over 100 years or more.

All pictures © Hugh Johnson unless otherwise indicated.

they grow that seems to reflect their Cretaceous or Miocene origins. And they are widely spaced, not crowding in clumps but free to spread massive canopies that meet 40 or 50 feet (12 or 15m) overhead.

But where are their offspring? In a full-grown forest you expect seedlings, saplings, trees of all ages. Not here: no signs at all of regeneration. There are young adult trees, a quarter of the girth and half the height. There is a solemn avenue of them lining the road to St James’s Buckingham Palace, very evidently planted. Are some planted, then, and others natural? And in that case why did they stop regenerating many years ago?

The answer is simple: there are no seedling plane trees. The London plane is a sterile hybrid between two species of a very restricted genus, so separated in nature that they could never meet without human intervention. One parent is the noble chenar tree of Persia, Kashmir and the Levant, around whose enormous boles whole communities gather to enjoy the shade. The other is the American buttonwood or sycamore.

American trees tend to be picky about our climate, dislike our lack of emphatic

seasons and fail to thrive, flower or set seed. The sycamore is one such. If it is infertile here, its union with the oriental plane must have taken place in a warmer part of Europe. Spain gets the credit, and gave it its botanical name (or one of them), Platanus x hispanica, although the evidence for a marriage that must have happened in the seventeenth century has never come to light.

Any reader tiring of the plots of murder mysteries should try a spot of dendrology. Dendrologists torture themselves over the identity and origins of trees on the scantiest (and often pretty moot) evidence. Platanus x hispanica (alias P. acerifolia) is as moot as any.

Read everyone’s favourite dendrologist, the late Alan Mitchell, in his Trees of Britain (1996) or, if you have lots of time, the entry in W.J. Bean’s Trees and Shrubs Hardy in the British Isles, Volume 3 (1933), pages 263–77, to see why I don’t even try to rehearse its antecedents.

Up until the 1970s there was a sub-dominant tree in London’s parks, equally majestic and seemingly long lived. It was the elm. There were not so many in St James’s, but a magnificent population of them shaded Rotten Row. Between 1973 and 1979 they died, all of

‘

Any reader tiring of the plots of murder mysteries should try a spot of dendrology

’

Above The Queen’s Walk is an avenue of planes running from the Mall to Piccadilly beside the Green Park.

Lancaster House is at the end on the left.

them, of an unforeseen complication in a recurring but till then not too troubling disease. How daring is the present virtual monoculture of our outright champion London tree?

Dendrology came into my life at a tender age, although I certainly didn’t know that was what it was. I grew up on the North Kent Downs, a roll of almost pure chalk with an inevitably limited roster of trees. How did the shallowrooted beeches grow so tall on such a thin and hungry soil (you could see how shallow when one blew down)? I loved them; their limp, furry embryonic leaves and their brown husky litter on the ground. And I loved watching the bright flashes on the hill from the whitebottomed leaves of whitebeams among scraggy black yews in the fringes of the woods.

As soon as I was able I planted a new copse in my father’s field of all the native things I admired – and in a moment of crass misjudgement put a serpentine lane of laburnums through the middle. Some of them are still there to reprimand me.

Most of the time, though, and wherever I went, I tried to identify the trees I passed, repeated their names to myself and ticked them off on my growing mental list. I had THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 13

p

Left Don’t believe every botanical label. This tree in St James’s Park may have been planted c.1830, but it certainly doesn’t come from South-East Asia.

Below, left Plane trees in Berkeley Square. © Justin Cormack.

Below, right England’s biggest plane tree, at the Bishop’s Palace, Ely. © Jeroen Philippona.

discovered something that was almost ubiquitous and wonderfully collectable.

I recalled and compared special specimens, memorable either for size or beauty. Before long I would go out of my way, even take the next turn-off from a motorway to go back, to have a good look at a tree I couldn’t recognise.

It is easy to rationalise my passion.

Trees are after all the most prominent and the most permanent of nature’s creatures; the biggest and the longest lived. They give powerful flavours to landscape; an oakwood and a fir forest are different

14 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

worlds. Pine, beech, birch woods are landscape idioms we can all understand.

So is English parkland, the outcome of an urge to find the grandest and most picturesque trees and use them to idealise a landscape.

What does a dendrologist find in the heart of London? Not the very finest plane trees, splendid though many of them are.

We call them London planes because they answer so many of a city’s needs. Above all, perhaps, because in the centuries of soot and fog they proved unkillable.

Plenty of other trees were tried; only

planes sloughed off the filth with their tough and shiny leaves and their selfcleaning bark. They seemed the perfect, if not the only, answer, for the ambitious eighteenth-century squares of which St James’s was the forerunner, with Berkeley, Cavendish, Grosvenor, Bedford, Portman and the rest following in short order. The St James’s Square trees, thirteen of them, fine but not exceptional, are a relatively late addition. Up until at least 1799 there was only a round pond in the middle.

Berkeley Square is said to have the oldest surviving planes, planted in the 1780s, reputedly on the site of a plague pit – hence, by repute, their giant size.

Their peculiar form, grossly conic at the base and dividing into two immense arms, suggests a clone. Clonal variation is likely, with every tree being propagated by cuttings. Portman Square is said to have particularly high-branched trees – but no more, I suspect, than can be accounted for by their close planting and competition for light. Comparing plane canopies, head in the air, dodging taxis, is a dendrologist’s idea of a well-spent afternoon.

Where are the biggest and best?

Left London’s most romantic view? The Foreign Office from the lakeside walk below Buckingham Palace.

Right France’s largest plane tree is on the pilgrim road to Compostella at Saint Guilhem le Désert in the Hérault. © J. Petite.

Scattered around the south of England (the Midlands and the north don’t provide the warmth they need) in some unexpected places. There are champion London planes at the Bishop’s Palace at Ely (a tree more than 120 feet high and 30 feet in girth [36 x 9m], planted, says tradition, in 1685), at Mottisfont Abbey in Hampshire, at Carshalton in Surrey, and the tallest at Bryanston School in Dorset, a tree more than 150 feet (46m) high. There are of course monsters in the South of France, often near springs or canals, where the French custom of periodical ‘élagage’ , or giving them a brutal trimming, only encourages the expansion of their great pale trunks. So quickly do they recover from their short-back-and-sides that trees stripped of all their shoots in spring are densely shading the marketplace in summer. Their London performance is sluggish by comparison. The main avenue of the Mall was planted, it appears, in

1906. The soil below must be miserable stuff.

What other trees are there to admire in and around St James’s? St James’s Park and the Green Park, both equally dominated by planes, are very different in their function and style. The Green Park is for country-lovers. It achieves a remarkable sense of tranquillity, despite the traffic noise of Piccadilly and Constitution Hill, with its wide-spaced trees, its green hills and valleys and its absence of gardening.

St James’s Park sets out to entertain, with ducks and flowers, music, swings and soft drinks. Its dignity it owes entirely to its population of planes.

Of the two, St James’s Park has more to offer a dendrologist, particularly in the part between Marlborough Gate and Buckingham Palace. John Nash was responsible for the new romantic style, the conversion of the lake from its former French rigidity, and the gardening, with shrubberies and exotic trees, of its surrounds. The work was finished in 1827, which is a possible planting date for the relatively few large oaks, limes and beeches between the Mall and the lake. The mood grows if anything more gardenesque at the Buckingham Palace end. One of London’s most romantic views, indeed, is the glimpse between shore and willow-draped island from the lakeside path below the high wall supporting the road around the Victorian

memorial. The skyline of the Foreign Office across the lake, among the trees, is a romantic Imperial dream.

Very different is the domestic whimsy of Duck Island, a stone’s throw from the Foreign Office, the cottage orné notionally the residence of the Governor of Duck Island. Distinguished holders of this office, instituted by Charles II, include his epicurean companion and the first champion of Champagne in England, the Marquis de Saint-Evremond.

His duties included keeping an eye on the pelicans introduced by the Russian ambassador.

In the Green Park most of the few deviants from the plane tree norm are near the east and north sides.

They include, surprisingly, a number of poplars, balsam and white, limes, hawthorns, Norway maples, standing out in April bright lime-green against the tender olive of the planes, a circle of walnuts around the lonely lamp standard, and what is evidently an experiment in the hopeful immunity of a new variety of elm, an attractive besom of a tree. Alas, it can never substitute for the mighty fans and spreading skirts of the heroes that used to hold their golden leaves until Christmas and carry green fruit in the early spring. For the largest scale of tree we have no option: we must make the most of the infertile bastard dinosaur that adopted us from nowhere.

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THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 15

Science&

Religion The 19th-century natural philosopher Michael Faraday believed that God had written the laws of nature into the universe. Few scientists today, however, would declare a theological underpinning to their work.

Frank James questions the commonly held view that science was the cause of the secularisation of society.

C

hrist Church, Oxford, Saturday 30 June 1860, morning.

In his room at the top of the college, Charles Dodgson, a mathematics tutor, better known as Lewis Carroll, photographed perhaps the most famous natural philosopher of the day, Michael Faraday (1791–1867).

All week Dodgson had been photographing eminent members of the scientific community as they arrived in Oxford for the annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science.

After he had been photographed, Faraday, pleading a headache, returned to the Royal Institution in London. He thus missed the afternoon session of the Association held in Oxford’s newly opened Museum of Natural History. There Joseph Hooker, Assistant Director of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew; Thomas Huxley, Professor of Natural History at the Government School of Mines in Jermyn Street; and Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford, among others, discussed the implications of the theory of organic evolution by the mechanism of natural selection proposed by Charles Darwin in his book, On the Origin of Species, published the previous November.

Wilberforce was concerned, above all else, to show conclusively that humans had not evolved from non-human animals, but were specially created. For if this was not the case, there could have been no Adamic Fall, and without that the Crucifixion and the Resurrection had nothing to redeem, and thus Christianity was pointless. This doubtless accounted for him asking Huxley during the course of the discussion ‘whether he would prefer a monkey for his grandfather or his grandmother’ . Huxley responded by saying that Wilberforce was an ‘unscientific authority’ , but unfortunately we have no immediate account of what he said next. Two months later he claimed that his response had been that, if asked whether he would ‘rather have a miserable ape for a grandfather or a man 16 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

highly endowed by nature and possessing great means & influence & yet who employs those faculties & that influence for the mere purpose of introducing ridicule into a grave scientific discussion – I unhesitatingly affirm my preference for the ape’; Hooker’s response was much more measured and more persuasive. There was an immediate flurry in the press but, because of the embarrassment caused by such ungentlemanly conduct, the British Association acted quickly to provide a sanitised account of the afternoon.

This was so effective that it was twenty years before any further descriptions of the discussion were published. Hence at the end of the nineteenth century it had to be (re)constructed, and there were then many efforts made to obtain eye-witness accounts of an event some decades before. Many of these later descriptions were at variance with each other and also with the very limited primary evidence that we do have about the discussion that June afternoon.

From the 1870s onwards some scientific figures sought to develop the idea that there had always existed a ‘conflict’ between science and religion, going back to the Galileo affair if not before.

This is indicated, for instance, by the title of John William Draper’s History of the Conflict between Religion and Science published in 1874. The same year Huxley’s friend John Tyndall asserted, as President of the British Association at its Belfast meeting, that science would ‘wrest from theology, the entire domain of cosmological theory’ . He thereby brought on himself, as he knew he would, a good deal of criticism including condemnation by the Irish bishops. It was in this context that during the 1880s and 1890s the discussion between Hooker, Huxley and Wilberforce emerged as a significant milestone in a ‘conflict’ between science and religion, a status it had not possessed in 1860.

One only has to browse through the wonderful collections of

Chaos, c.1873–82, by George Frederic Watts. © Tate (N01647).

nineteenth-century magazines and journals held by the London Library, such as the Athenaeum (where the British Association published its sanitised account), the Literary Gazette, the Edinburgh or Quarterly Reviews, to see the enormous amount of space devoted to the study of the natural world in all its rich variety, much of it religious in tone. Browsing through their modern equivalents, there is little serious reporting of science as a matter of course, with a few exceptions when science-related issues, such as climate change or BSE, reach the front pages. And when they do there is a tacit assumption that scientific knowledge is innately anti-religious, a perception reinforced by the strident outpourings of Richard Dawkins and others, with their peculiar and synthetic inversions of fundamentalist religious beliefs.

Within such writings, it is assumed that science has displaced Christianity during the twentieth century and that this has been achieved solely due to science providing a ‘true’ , evidence-based description of the world as opposed to mythic beliefs. It is difficult for historians to accept that such a major shift in society as the decline of Christianity can be attributable to a single cause. In any case its collapse is really only a European phenomenon – it continues, for instance, to flourish in North America, which also has a strong scientific and technological base. To demonstrate that science was solely responsible for the collapse of Christianity in Europe – measured in terms of church attendance and conformity (or lack thereof) with the teachings of the various churches, especially in the area of sexuality – it would be required to show that there were or are a large number of individuals who abandoned Christianity because of science. There are very few examples (an understatement) of individuals, either historically or in the present day, where such monocausality can be demonstrated.

So, if science was not the significant agent for secularisation, what was responsible for driving this process, and how did science come to be seen as the cause? Theologians, in large part, must shoulder the responsibility for the rise of secularisation through their own attitude and behaviour. In the same year that Hooker, Huxley and Wilberforce discussed Darwin, a book with the innocuous title of Essays and Reviews was published with seven contributors, all Anglican, six of whom were clergymen. Some were of undoubted eminence, such as Benjamin Jowett, later Master of Balliol College; Frederick Temple, later Archbishop of Canterbury; and Baden Powell (Professor of Mathematics at Oxford and father of Robert, the founder of the Scouts). Collectively they argued for a liberal interpretation of the Bible, church doctrine and history, views developed from the German school of biblical criticism. The book provoked a violent reaction from both the catholic and evangelical wings of the Church of England, and a number of the contributors were tried for heresy. Powell died before he could be put on trial, prompting E.B. Pusey (who with J.H. Newman and John Keble had founded the Anglo-Catholic Oxford Movement in the 1830s – before Newman reneged) to remark nastily that Powell had gone to a ‘higher tribunal’ .

Although those tried before the church courts were convicted, these judgements were overturned on appeal to the Privy Council, thus prompting much anguish over the role of the state in a state church.

The unedifying unpleasantness, epitomised by Pusey’s remark, created by these cases and by others throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and indeed down to today, with the misogynist row over women bishops, contributed, in my view, far more to the decline of Christianity and the creation of a secular society, than ever science did.

Indeed many scientific figures sought to come to the aid of THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 17

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generator, and thus the key to much the church, especially in the nineteenth of modern life) showed how electric, century. For example, in 1864 students at magnetic and dynamic forces were linked the Royal College of Chemistry (then in together.

Oxford Street and now part of Imperial Faraday’s discovery that magnetism College) issued their ‘Declaration of the could induce an electric current to flow Students of the Natural and Physical in a wire is instructive in appreciating the Sciences’ , signed by 700 members of the primacy of his a priori view of the world. scientific community. The Declaration During the 1820s he returned several argued that, in the final analysis, the word times to his research that led to this of God written in the Bible would not be discovery when many of his colleagues found to conflict with the word of God had given up. Such persistence, to the written in the natural world. This document point of obsession, over many decades is provoked considerable controversy for a also on display in his search to establish number of reasons, such as the fact that it that magnetism is a universal property was addressed to the Convocation of the of matter. Many would have concluded Anglican Church, and that some scientific from the extensive experimentation that figures rejected the implied notion that he undertook in the 1830s and early science led to infidelity. Most of these issues 1840s that magnetism was specific to arose due to the youthful inexperience of iron and nickel. Faraday persevered and those who drafted and propagated it, and between 1845 and 1847 showed that all many in the scientific community, who matter, including gases, had magnetic might have been expected to sign, declined. properties and, as a consequence, he was Faraday refused on the grounds that it was able to include light within his scheme an Anglican document and that he had of forces. With gravity, however, despite already given his views on the subject in an Progress, c.1902– 4, by George Frederic Watts. extensive sophisticated experimentation 1854 lecture. Nevertheless, the ‘Declaration’ © Watts Gallery, Compton, Surrey. over several decades, he failed to unify it was more representative of the consensus Watts Gallery reopens to the public on 18 June 2011 after with other forces, but never doubted that of the scientific community than the a major restoration. Both illustrated paintings are on view.

Chaos is in the exhibition Painting for the Nation: G.F. Watts one day it would be; as gravity has yet to be strident and noisy opinions of Huxley, at the Tate, until 1 January 2012. wattsgallery.org.uk fully explained Faraday may be forgiven Tyndall or Draper. for this failure.

Far more typical of the views of These examples illustrate his fundamental beliefs about the the scientific community were those of Faraday, or William world, that God had written the laws of nature into the universe at Thomson (Lord Kelvin), whose establishment of the second law the time of the Creation, in such a way that they could be discovered. of thermodynamics had, as he fully realised, profound theological Although Faraday was perhaps more explicit than most of his implications, or James Clerk Maxwell, who formulated the electrocontemporaries about the theological underpinning of his science, magnetic theory of light and mathematised Faraday’s electronevertheless such beliefs are apparent in the work of most natural magnetic field theory – one of the cornerstones of modern physics. philosophers and chemists in the nineteenth century. How then And one has to say that their work has lasted better than anything did we move to the current situation, where there is hardly any that Huxley or Tyndall produced. serious scientist who would promulgate or even defend a theological In the examples of Faraday, Thomson, Maxwell and others, their understanding of their work, even if they adhere to personal religious religious beliefs were fundamental to their scientific practice and beliefs? Here Faraday’s absence from the afternoon session of the understanding of the world. The case of Faraday well illustrates this.

1860 meeting of the British Association provides part of the answer.

He belonged to a small neo-Calvinist sect of Christianity called the The view (as opposed to the content) of science that Hooker and Sandemanians in which he served as an Elder for two periods, his Huxley argued for is much more in line with the practices of modern duties including presiding at the love-feast, preaching and baptising science than Faraday’s. So, instead of interpreting that event as a infants. As he experimented and theorised in his laboratory and key victory by science in a supposed war against religion, it might study at the Royal Institution, Faraday sought to discover the laws of be better to see it as emblematic of a shift in how science should be nature that God had written into the universe at the Creation. done and that Faraday’s absence (whatever the immediate reason) He came to his research with a preconceived, almost symbolises that process. metaphysical, view of how the world was, and would ignore, at least Scientists, by claiming that they have destroyed the influence temporarily, experimental results that contradicted his beliefs. One of Christianity, have provided theologians with a perfect reason to of these beliefs was that all the forces of nature were convertible from account for this historical phenomenon. By being able to blame one to the other: that is, that electricity could be turned into light science, theologians do not have to dwell on their own shortcomings and light into magnetism, etc. Most of what are now seen as his key or those of their predecessors. In this, the causality of events is experimental researches were directed towards demonstrating such reversed, to the satisfaction of most scientists and theologians but connections. His discoveries in 1821 of electro-magnetic rotations not historians: science became secular because society became (the principle behind the electric motor) and in 1831 of electrosecular, not the other way round. magnetic induction (the principle of the electric transformer and

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hidden corners

HERALDRY

GENEALOGY David Gelber examines the Library’s collections of books on these unexpectedly fascinating subjects, and explores how heraldry in particular exposes the social aspirations and vain fantasies of the British since the Elizabethan period

‘

he science of fools with long memories’ is how Voltaire caricatured the study of heraldry.

For him and other Enlightenment savants, a preoccupation with the abstractions and punctilios of blazon represented all that was irrational, vain and superfluous about the ancien régime. Yet Voltaire’s aphorism, for all its modish scorn, soon appeared as benighted as the society he was satirising. Once heraldry had been freed from its toxic association with the hidebound French nobility, attitudes grew more even-handed.

A bellwether was Voltaire’s nineteenthcentury compatriot Victor Hugo, who pronounced that ‘for him who can decipher it, heraldry is an algebra, a language’ , which could unlock the mysteries of the Middle Ages and shine a light on the gothic runes of Europe.

In their attitude towards heraldry, the founders of the London Library were swayed less by Voltaire’s sarcasm than by Hugo’s dispassionate advocacy. Infused with the historic sensibility of Thomas Carlyle and the omniscient spirit of William Gladstone, the Library’s early committees invested heavily in heraldic tomes. There were, of course, the standard reference works. The first decade of the Library’s

existence coincided with an outpouring from the Burke publishing stable. Alongside well-established guides to the peerage and baronetage the Library acquired more ephemeral publications like Burke’s Heraldic Illustrations, comprising the armorial bearings of the principal families of the Empire (1845) and his General Armory of England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales (1878). The high-minded purposefulness of the early committees excluded Burke’s Portrait Gallery of Distinguished Females, including beauties of the Courts of George IV and William IV (1833), but the Library did procure his Genealogical and Heraldic History of the Commoners of Great Britain, published in 1836–8, and the new edition of 1848–9, bearing the more flattering title The Landed Gentry.

Alongside these staple texts, the Library purchased a range of comparable works from abroad, including the Almanach de Gotha (from 1830; issues going back to 1791 are in the safe) and the Annuaire de la noblesse de France et des maisons souveraines de l’Europe (1843).

These were supplemented by a range of specialist studies, covering the origins and evolution of heraldry from the twelfth century onwards. The scale and diversity of the collection soon impinged on the Library’s classification system. Following the example of Elizabeth I’s chief minister William Cecil, Lord Burghley, whose Great Hall at Theobalds, Hertfordshire, was adorned with the arms of England’s pre-eminent families arranged according to shire, the Library’s heraldic acquisitions

were originally incorporated into a larger section on the British counties. But over time the stock grew so sizeable that it warranted its own classmark, which it came to share with the genealogical collection.

This shelving arrangement belies the quite separate origins of heraldry and genealogy. The parish registers and parched deeds that are haemoglobin to the genealogist are quite remote from the bloody battlefields and tournament grounds of medieval Europe, where coatarmour first came into existence. Although they later acquired a hereditary character, the armorial bearings of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were the marks of individual knights, daubed like war-paint on their shields as they rode into combat.

Not for nothing did Mrs Bury Palliser compose a work on Historic Devices, Badges and War Cries (1870).

Most evidence of heraldic practice from this period was lost in the mire of conflict, but the rolls of arms that heralds and chroniclers produced, recording the devices borne in particular engagements, furnish some impression. The originals are invariably in manuscript form, but two printed volumes, Rolls of Arms, Henry III (1967), and its sequel, Rolls of Arms, Edward I (1272–1307), published in 1997, provide detailed schedules of the oldest surviving English examples.

While these editions lack the vital gold, vermilion and aquamarine of the original illuminations, two facsimiles of fifteenthand sixteenth-century rolls of arms offer a shimmering glimpse of this tradition. The

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THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 19

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By the sixteenth century, coats of arms – previously restricted to the fighting estate – were adopted by merchants, lawyers and other unheroic types as status symbols earliest, the Roxburghe Club’s Medieval Pageant: Writhe’s Garter Book, edited by Sir Anthony Wagner (1993), is a reproduction of the mid-fifteenth-century Salisbury Roll.

It depicts the male-line Montagu ancestors of Robert Neville, Earl of Warwick and Salisbury, in full-length portraits, wearing tabards of their arms. Their wives also appear, connected to their husbands by cords or even chains.

The second, Fac Simile of an Ancient Heraldic Manuscript emblazoned by Sir David Lyndsay, edited by D. Laing, is an 1878 edition of a Scottish roll of arms from the 1540s. It includes, conventionally enough, the shields of the House of Stuart and the nobility of Scotland. But mingled with them are the arms – entirely fictitious – of the ‘kings of the orient’ , including Balthasar, King of Saba, and Melchior, King of Araby, as well as biblical figures like David and Joshua, the latter imaginatively styled ‘duke of the people of Israel’ .

By the sixteenth century, fantasies of this sort were almost de rigueur in heraldic works. This was a period when feudal structures were in mortal decay and social mobility was rising. Coats of arms – previously restricted to the fighting estate – were now adopted by merchants, lawyers and other unheroic types as status symbols. In response, Henry VIII instituted a series of heraldic visitations to ensure that only ‘men of good honest reputation’ , ‘not issued of vile blood’ , acquired armorial achievements. The records compiled during these visitations form one of the most valuable sources for the arms of the English gentry between 1530 and 1688 – transcripts can be found in the Library’s Harleian Society collection.

The assumption of heraldic devices by

20 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

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a more literate class of people engendered a voracious appetite for armorial knowledge.

Taking advantage of the printing revolution of the later fifteenth century, armorialists produced a range of heraldic primers for these newly risen men, who were indifferent to chivalric norms. They sought to give a more virtuous and sanitary gloss to heraldic history, consistent with the Christian humanist values their readers purported to incarnate. But in their efforts to satisfy their vanity, they offered little distinction between myth and reality.

One of the earliest printed texts in England, the Boke of St Albans (first published in 1486, and owned by the Library in facsimile), was a threepart manual of essential aristocratic

Frontispiece from Thomas Milles’s Catalogue of Honor (1610).

accomplishments: hunting, hawking and heraldry. The last, it alleged, was invented at the Siege of Troy, while the law of arms was ‘begun before any law in the world but the law of nature, and before the Ten Commandments’ . Christ ‘was a gentleman of his mother’s behalf and bore coatarmour of ancestors’ .

The Boke of St Albans set the pattern for heraldic treatises of the next two centuries, in which the Library’s collections are particularly rich. John Ferne’s Blazon of Gentrie (1586), a dialogue between a herald, knight, cleric, lawyer, ploughman and antiquary, describes how Christ was a ‘gentleman of blood’ on account of his descent from Noah’s son Shem, while Gerard Legh’s Accedence of Armorie (which went through six editions between 1562 and 1612, the fifth of which the Library owns) referred to ‘the genealogy of Matthew and Luke’ as proof of his ‘great lineage’ .

Biblical heraldry was only the start.

Favine’s Theater of Honour (1623) gave arms to the ancient Persians and Egyptians, Gerard Legh ascribed them to classical figures, like Hector and Alexander the Great, while John Guillim’s A Display of Heraldry (the Library possesses the third edition of 1638) included Caesar and Aeneas’s grandson Brutus in his gallery of heraldic worthies. Thomas Milles in his Catalogue of Honor (1610) was restrained by comparison, assigning arms only as far back as Egbert, the ninth-century King of Wessex.

In the ruthless world of heraldic publishing, other conceits could push sales.

The Mirrour of Maiestie by ‘H.G.’ (1618) offered illustrations of the arms of Jacobean notables ‘poetically unfolded’ , while the herald Ralph Brooke made accuracy the hallmark of his Catalogue of and Succession of the Kings, Princes, Dukes, Marquesses, Earls, and Viscounts of this Realm of England (1619), attacking the ‘upstarts and mountebanks’ who had intruded on his professional expertise. As two Italian works owned by the Library, Paolo Giovio’s Dialogo dell’imprese militari et amorese (1574) and Filiberto Campanile’s L’armi dé nobili (1610) illustrate, this ravening for heraldic knowledge was not merely an English insatiability.

Alongside displays of arms, real and imaginary, many heraldic works offered the newly minted gentleman advice on

designing his shield. A kind of temporal astrology evolved, in which moral qualities were attributed to tinctures, and planets, elements, seasons and precious stones were associated with heraldic charges. For Ferne, azure and gules (the colour red) symbolised justice and charity respectively, while Guillim thought vert a ‘colour most wholesome and pleasant to the eye, except it be in a young gentlewoman’s face’ .

It was this delight in esoteric symbolism that did so much to discredit Renaissance heraldic writers. The Royalist Matthew Carter attacked the ‘fantastic humour’ of these modern pagans in his Honor Redivivus or an Analysis of honor and armory (1660), written for consolation from his Parliamentarian prison cell.

However, a new edition of Guillim appeared as late as 1724. With good cause might the protagonist of Walter Scott’s Rob Roy (1817) protest: ‘With shame I confess it, my dear Miss Vernon, the mysteries couched under the grim hieroglyphics of heraldry are to me as unintelligible as those of the pyramids of Egypt. ’ It was perhaps to alleviate such befuddlement that the Library acquired titles like Intelligible Heraldry by Christopher and Adrian LynchRobinson (1948), Iain Moncrieffe and Don Pottinger’s Simple Heraldry (1953) and G. Harvey Johnston’s Scottish Heraldry Made Easy (1904).

The effort to explode heraldic mythologies and reclaim the subject for the Age of Reason began in earnest in the late eighteenth century. In his Complete Body of Heraldry (1780), Joseph Edmondson bemoaned the ‘ridicule and contempt’ with which the study of arms was now

treated, while James Dallaway – perhaps more in hope than expectation – declared in his Inquiries into the origin and progress of the Science of Heraldry in England (1793) that ‘heraldry in its present state has just pretensions to be ranked in the circle of sciences, so general [is] its usage, so infinitely various … its discriminations, and so classical … its specific differences’ .

This evidence-based approach set a pattern for later heraldic research.

Twentieth-century studies such as Anthony Wagner’s Heralds and Heraldry in the Middle Ages (1956), Maurice Keen’s Origins of the English Gentleman: Heraldry, Chivalry and Gentility in Medieval England (2002) and C.W. Scott-Giles’s Shakespeare’s Heraldry (1950) revealed the proper place of heraldry in the politics, society and literature of earlier times.

Beyond these weighty monographs, the Library’s collection also exposes the brazen diversity of heraldry. Titles such as Geoffrey Briggs’s Civic and Corporate Heraldry (1971), Alfred Edwin Weightman’s Heraldry in the Royal Navy (1957), and Dow’s Railway Heraldry (1973) disclose how far the use of arms spread beyond their chivalric origins. Other works illustrate their global reach. These range from Siebmacher’s Wappenbuch (from 1854), an encyclopaedic compendium of German heraldry, to more whimsical volumes like Cornelius Pama’s Lions and Virgins: Heraldic state symbols … in South Africa (1965) and the sumptuous Armorial of Haiti, edited by Clive Cheesman (2007), depicting the outlandish arms invented for the Duc de Marmelade, the Comte de Limonade and the rest of King Henry

Two examples of coats of arms from Matthew Carter’s Honor Redivivus (1660).

Frontispiece from John Guillim’s A Display of Heraldry (1611).

Christophe’s court.

Notwithstanding the scientific pretension of some armorialists, heraldry remains an intensely visual art. Books on Chinese Armorial Porcelain (David Sanctuary Howard, 2 vols., 1974–2003), Heraldic Watermarks (Francisco de Asis de Bofarull y Sans, 1956), Stained and Painted Heraldic Glass (Glasgow Art Gallery and Museum, 1962) and Armorial BookPlates (P. Neville Barnett, 1932) spotlight its numerous applications, while W.H. St John Hope’s Heraldry for Craftsmen and Designers (1936) offers practical advice for the artist. Other works explore particular species of heraldic imagery, most imaginatively H. Stanford London’s Royal Beasts (1956) and Thomas Moule’s Heraldry of Fish (1842).

But for all the gaiety of lions rampant and dragons passant, Henry Lawrance’s Heraldry from Military Monuments before 1350 (1946) chronicles the most consistent use of armorial imagery from earliest times, recalling Thomas Gray’s admonition in his Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard (1751): The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, Awaits alike the inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave. t THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 21

RETRoSpEcTiVE caTaLoGuiNG

TOWARDS THE

KING JAMES BIBLE From Matthew’s Bible to two first editions of the King James Bible, the Library’s collection of Bibles is a treasure trove, as Head of Bibliographic Services Dunia García-Ontiveros reveals

W

e have all known the pleasure of rediscovering a treasured possession we had forgotten about: a favourite garment hiding at the back of the wardrobe, a faded photograph stuffed into the bottom of an old shoe box.

Nowadays, if a library book is not listed in an online catalogue it may just as well be at the back of the wardrobe or at the bottom of an old shoe box, so it is not surprising that many of the London Library’s older books have not been borrowed or consulted in years. The Library’s Retrospective Cataloguing Project aims to bring these books out into the light and make them as visible as possible by adding them to the online catalogue. Each and every one of the volumes that passes through our cataloguers’ hands is interesting, many are fascinating and some are breathtaking. A donation from the Gladys Krieble Delmas Foundation provided partial funding for the retrospective cataloguing of some of the Library’s earliest books, and every one of the titles we rediscovered during this phase of our project was a new thrill. The excitement a cataloguer feels when ‘finding’ a halfforgotten treasure on the Library’s shelves is soon replaced by a sense of awe, as they begin to understand the significance of the book they hold in their hands, particularly when it is a book that changed the course of history, that cost its author, editor, translator or printer their life, and that has had a profound impact on the way countless generations view the world, on how they think and even speak.

Among our recent ‘rediscoveries’ are two copies of the first editions of the King James Bible, also known as the Authorized Version, printed in London by Robert Barker: the large folio edition of 1611, 22 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

Above Title page from the first octavo edition, only 18cm tall, printed by Robert Barker in 1612.

Opposite First folio edition, a magnificent 42cm tall, printed by Robert Barker in 1611.

printed for use in parish churches, and the much smaller octavo of 1612, intended for personal use. Despite lacking several pages, including its title page, the folio is still an impressive volume with most of its original binding, brass bosses and clasps intact.

Because of its size it had to be shelved away from the other early Bibles and was not ‘retro catalogued’ until recently. The octavo Bible was part of Thomas Robinson Allan’s Methodist Library, purchased by the London Library in 1920, but the folio’s provenance is a mystery. There are no clues on the book itself as to the identity of its former owner, and it lacks the usual London Library accession date stamp and serial number. All we know is that it appears for the first time in the second supplement to the printed catalogue, so it must have been acquired – already with missing pages, judging by the entry – between 1920 and 1928.

Around 50 scholars worked between

1604 and 1608 to produce this immortal version of the Scriptures, in an epic exercise in teamwork that was the culmination of a lengthy process begun 80 years earlier by William Tyndale.

The religious reformer, inspired by Desiderius Erasmus and Martin Luther, was forced to flee England in 1525. A gifted linguist, he translated the New Testament from Greek into accessible English in 1526. In 1530 he printed his translation from Hebrew of the first five books of the Old Testament, and by 1534 had settled in Antwerp. He then began translating the rest of the Old Testament, but was betrayed by a friend and arrested in 1535 before he could complete the work. He was incarcerated for sixteen months and in October 1536 was publicly executed in Vilvoorde Castle, near Brussels.

In 1535 Miles Coverdale was also in Antwerp, printing his complete English Bible. Coverdale was an Augustinian friar and reformist who, like Tyndale, was forced into exile. He did not know enough Greek and Hebrew to translate the original texts and translated from German and Latin versions instead, as well as referring to Tyndale’s work. Back in England the reformist influence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, and the King’s minister, Thomas Cromwell, was growing and, consequently, Henry VIII was more inclined to fulfil the promise he had made in 1530 to provide ‘learned men’ with a translation of the New Testament.

In this new climate Coverdale dedicated his Bible to the King and was able to return safely to London.

Tyndale’s unpublished translations of the Old Testament were finally printed in ‘Matthew’s’ Bible of 1537. John Rogers, chaplain of the English merchants’ Exchange in Antwerp, had managed

to rescue the manuscripts after Tyndale’s arrest. These he printed together with Tyndale’s Pentateuch and New Testament. For the remaining books of the Old Testament he used Coverdale’s translation. As Tyndale’s translations were still banned, the title page bore the fictitious name of Thomas Matthew. The resulting book is the closest thing we have to a complete Tyndale Bible.

Ironically, this was the first English Bible to receive a royal licence, and Cromwell wasted no time in distributing copies to every parish, although not enough had been printed to supply all 8,500 churches. The King still had some reservations as to the radical tone of the marginal notes, so a new version was needed. Interestingly, the London Library’s copy of Matthew’s Bible was printed by a Thomas Raynalde in London in 1549, two years after Henry’s death.

Henry VIII’s Great Bible of 1539 was edited by Coverdale, who revised Matthew’s Bible rather than using his own version.

Soon after the printing of the Great Bible Cranmer fell from grace, and religious reform in England was halted. No new versions of the Bible were produced during the reign of Edward VI, and John Rogers’ execution during Mary’s reign served as a powerful deterrent for anyone contemplating biblical translation in Catholic England.

A group of English Protestant scholars, who included the Dean of Durham, William Whittingham, fled Mary’s regime to settle in the Calvinist capital where they prepared a new version, known as the Geneva Bible, printed in 1560. Coverdale had returned to England after Henry’s death and served as Bishop of Exeter, until the accession of Mary to the throne forced him into a third

exile in 1555.

He joined the Geneva translators in October 1558.

Mary died the following month, but work on the new Bible prevented Coverdale’s immediate return to England. The Geneva Old Testament was based on the Great Bible of 1539, but the New Testament was a revision of Whittingham’s version of 1557, itself based on Tyndale. The Geneva Bible was enormously popular, running to 150 editions, and it is hardly surprising that the London Library holds several early examples, the earliest being a folio edition printed in 1576 by Christopher Barker, who had just obtained a patent to print the Bible in England for the first time.

The next year Barker bought the exclusive and hereditary rights to print all English Bibles. The London Library copy of the smaller 1586 edition is the last produced by the founder of the printing dynasty. He retired in 1578 leaving the business in charge of his deputies, who were responsible for the 1589 and 1599 editions also held by the Library. The Library’s copy of the 1605 edition is the work of Christopher’s son Robert who, while busy printing the new King James Bible, or Authorized Version, in 1611, was still satisfying demand for Geneva Bibles with a new folio edition, also held at the Library.

After Mary’s death the Geneva Bible was openly used in parish churches, but Queen Elizabeth’s bishops found its extensive marginal notes too heavily influenced by Calvinist doctrine. Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, assumed responsibility for a new version. The first folio edition of the Bishops’ Bible of 1568 was produced in London by the Queen’s

printer, Richard Jugge. The Library has a copy of the New Testament printed by Jugge for his second, and larger, edition of 1569.

Although this was meant to be Elizabeth’s ‘Great Bible’, it did not receive royal sanction until 1574, possibly because neither Parker nor the bishops who aided him had the necessary linguistic skill to produce a version comparable to the Geneva Bible.

The Library’s copy of the 1575 edition finally contains the words ‘set foorth by aucthoritie’ as well as ‘God save the Queene’ on the title page. Copies were printed for official use in parish churches across the land, but the ‘Calvinist version’ was retained for private use in most Protestant households.

The Catholic alternative to these Protestant Bibles was produced once again by religious exiles, this time settled in the English College at Douai and Rheims. These English Catholics accepted the inevitability of vernacular bibles and undertook to create a version that would conform to Catholic doctrine. The New Testament was translated

by George Martin, a reader of Divinity at the college, who worked mostly from the Vulgate but was also influenced by existing English versions. It was first printed in 1582 in Rheims, with the Old Testament being issued in two parts in Douai over 1609 and 1610. The Library holds copies of them all.

While the most direct influences of the Authorized Version of 1611 were the Geneva and the Bishops’ bibles, King James’s translators were not squeamish about consulting every English translation available, including the Rheims–Douai version, and borrowing many phrases from it.

The Authorized Version of 1611 is the final chapter in a long and dramatic story.

It is a story of crucial milestones, which the retrospective cataloguing project has now signposted, making it easier to follow the path towards the King James Bible.

THE RETRoSpEcTiVE caTaLoGuiNG pRoJEcT: HELp uS BRiNG MoRE TREaSuRES To LiGHT The Library’s Bibliographic Services team is working hard to bring all one million London Library volumes to our online computer catalogue.

With more resources the project could be accelerated, helping to bring forward the time when details of all the collection will be online.

You can support the project either

by making a general donation or by contributing to the cataloguing of a specific collection of books. If you have an interest in a particular author or subject, we can estimate the time and expense required to catalogue all the relevant books. For example: • all titles by and about Goethe would cost £1,700 and take 18 days

• all titles on the nature of genius would cost £112 and take 1 day • all titles on architecture would cost £2,250 and take 25 days.

For more information, please contact Lottie Cole in the Development Office on 020 7766 4716 or lottie.cole@ londonlibrary.co.uk

THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 23

MEMBERS’ NEWS

The Library onliNE

annual report

a new website and other ways to keep in touch

reducing cost and waste with ‘print on demand’

More than three years after the Library’s last substantial website update, a new and improved London Library website will be going live in the coming weeks.

The new site will be more attractive and user-friendly, and will contain all the information and services needed by members and other interested browsers. Improvements include a dedicated Members’ section with the most up-to-date Library news, ‘turn the page’ technology for easy web-based reading of the Library magazine and an improved Shop for online purchases of Library merchandise. While all new websites take some time for users to become accustomed to, we hope members will soon find it a vast improvement on our current site. Equally, we hope a more inviting web presence will encourage new members to join us.

Notices about the new website will be placed on the existing site, and on notice boards within the Library, in advance of it going live.

Meanwhile, our social media pursuits continue to gain followers, with 1,600 ‘fans’ on Facebook and 1,700 followers on Twitter (where our Twitter name is @TheLondonLib). It’s fascinating to interact in this way with members and book lovers of all ages, as well as other libraries all over the world. If you are interested in dipping your toe into the waters of social media, we’d love you to join us.

Another of our online pursuits is a series of articles called ‘Treasures from the London Library’, written by Dunia García-Ontiveros, our hard-working Head of Bibliographic Services, for the History Today website. Recent articles cover topics as diverse as martyrdom, early English gardening books and 16th-century voyage narratives, all illustrated by some of the oldest and most fascinating books in the Library’s collections. Go to historytoday.com to read more.

Finally, our London Library blog will also be launching soon – keep an eye on the revamped website for news on this, as we explore another way to communicate with members and take the wonders of the Library to a wider audience.

For many years, the Library’s Annual Report has been posted to members individually or, since the creation of the London Library Magazine, included as an enclosure with its autumn issue.

As the economic and environmental implications of sending such a substantial document to each Library member are considerable, we are trialling a new system of delivering the Report to interested members. This year, there will be two formats in which to access and read your Annual Report: • As a pdf file: The Annual Report will, as usual, be downloadable as a pdf file from the Library’s website. Alternatively, we will be happy to email you the file – simply contact development@ londonlibrary.co.uk to have the Report emailed to you as an attachment.

• In hard copy: If you prefer to have a physical copy of the Report, of the kind we have previously posted to all members, please request one by emailing development@londonlibrary.co.uk or telephoning the Development Office on (020) 7766 4719.

By using a ‘print on demand’ service and only sending a hard copy to members who have specifically requested this format, we hope to save on production and postage costs and also improve our ‘green’ credentials.

The Annual Report will be accessible on the Library’s website and posted to members who have requested a paper copy in October.

PRAISE FOR PHASE 2

The AIA Award and the Condé Nast Traveller nomination are testament to the skills of our architects Haworth Tompkins, and to our other partners in the redevelopment work, from engineers Max Fordham and Price & Myers, to Mace, our site managers, and cost consultants Gardiner & Theobald, in what was a challenging and complicated project. Hardworking staff and patient members also allowed us to make these changes and improvements – to all of you, our thanks!

We are continuing to raise money for the final two phases of the redevelopment and look forward to having more beautiful new spaces for members to enjoy in future.

The completion of Phase 2 of the Library’s redevelopment last summer attracted high praise from journalists, critics and, most crucially, members, who enjoyed using the new spaces and facilities after more than a year of building disruption.

In recent months we’ve been thrilled Lightwell Reading Room. to add two formal plaudits to these positive Photograph © Paul Raftery. responses: the Best Refurbishment Award from the American Institute of Architects (AIA) UK Excellence in Design Awards, given to the whole of Phase 2; and the Culture category of the Condé Nast Traveller Innovation and Design Awards, for which the Lightwell Reading Room was a finalist.

24 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

Diary date: 170th London Library AGM The 170th Annual General Meeting of the London Library will be held in the Reading Room at 6pm on Tuesday, 1 November 2011.

legacies: A LASTING GIFT Regular visitors to the Library may have spotted a new donor board on the Central Stair, opposite the entrance to the Art Room Gallery. It honours those who have made a significant contribution to the Library in recent years through major legacies. Behind each name is a story of great affection for the Library and an equal determination that it should continue to flourish and serve future generations of members.

The first name on the board is that of Mrs R.M. Chambers, a keen London Library member and graduate of Girton College, Cambridge, who created a trust to administer an estate of urban cottages (49 houses of differing sizes and a builder’s yard) in Ealing for the joint benefit of the Library and Girton College. For the last 50 years we have benefited from the rental income from these properties and from sale proceeds as each property falls vacant on the death of the original tenant. The sale proceeds alone have so far amounted to over £4.6 million with three properties still remaining.

Some former members have quite simply left us everything they owned, such as Kenneth Murphy, another great benefactor of the Library, who was himself a librarian. For over 20 years he was Head Librarian at the Guardian, and on his death in 1996 left his entire estate to the London Library. (Members who browse in S. Cricket will see his name in volumes there, too; he was clearly a keen follower of the game and we added a number of books from his collection to that section.) Some members make bequests in support of our capital development plans – our 21st Century Appeal received a real boost from the legacies of Mrs Charles Carr and Miss Barbara Scott, for example – while others are content to contribute to that most vital of causes: enabling the Library to continue acquiring and preserving books, providing services and supporting members who would otherwise struggle to afford the membership fees.

Earlier this year we received a quite unexpected but enormously generous legacy of more than £353,000 from Jill and Stephen Bonser. Jill Bonser joined the Library in 1968 and her husband, Stephen, much later, in 1996. They lived in a small cottage next to a working farm in Wigton, Cumbria, and remained devoted country members for the rest of their lives. Jill Bonser died in December 2009 and Stephen just three months later, naming the Library as the sole beneficiary of his will.

Legacies like this are always of immense benefit to the Library and warmly appreciated; each of the donors becomes part of the Library’s ‘family history’ and will continue to be remembered with gratitude and warmth into The new donor board on the Central Stair. the future.

MEMBERS’ OFFERS LAPADA Art & Antiques Fair Berkeley Square (21–25 Sept 2011) The LAPADA Art & Antiques Fair features around 90 of the UK and Europe’s leading specialists.

Works of art and design are offered for sale: from the ancient to the contemporary; academic, intriguing or purely beautiful. From pictures and jewellery to furniture and sculpture, every piece is inspected for authenticity and craftsmanship. LAPADA is pleased to offer London

26 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

Recent literary & OTHER awards Congratulations to the Library members who were nominated for or have won literary or other awards recently Ned Beauman, Boxer Beetle, shortlisted for the 2011 Desmond Elliot Prize award for a first novel, shortlisted for the 2011 Guardian First Book Award.

Jonathan Beckman, Cardinal Sins: Marie Antoinette and the Affair of the Necklace (due to be published in 2013), 1 of 3 winners of the 2010 RSL Jerwood Awards for Non-Fiction to authors engaged on their first major commissioned works of non-fiction.

Rodric Braithwaite, Afghansty, longlisted for the 2011 BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for NonFiction.

Oliver Bullough, Let Our Fame Be Great: Journeys Among the Defiant People of the Caucasus, shortlisted for the 2011 Orwell Prize.

Adam Foulds, The Quickening Maze, winner of the 2011 Encore Prize for the best second novel of 2009 and 2010.

Jason Goodwin, Yashim detective series, shortlisted for the 2011 Crime Writers’ Association Dagger in the Library Prize.

Andrew Graham-Dixon, Caravaggio: A Life Sacred and Profane, longlisted for the 2011 BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction.

Michael Jacobs, Andes, longlisted for the 2011 Dolman Travel Book of the Year.

Anatole Kaletsky, Capitalism 4.0: The Birth of a New Economy, longlisted for the 2011 BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for NonFiction.

Alexander Monro, The Paper Trail (due to be published later in 2011), 1 of 3 winners of the

2010 RSL Jerwood Awards for Non-Fiction to authors engaged on their first major commissioned works of non-fiction.

Cecilia Powell and Stephen Hebron, Savage Grandeur and Noblest Thoughts: Discovering the Lake District 1750–1820, longlisted for the 2011 William M.B. Berger Prize for British Art History.

Philip Pullman, finalist for the 2011 Man Booker International Prize, for achievement in fiction.

Nat Segnit, Pub Walks in Underhill Country, longlisted for the 2011 Desmond Elliot Prize for a first novel.

Donald Sturrock, Storyteller: The Life of Roald Dahl, longlisted for the 2011 BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction.

Andrew Taylor, The Anatomy of Ghosts, longlisted for the 2011 Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year.

Adam Thirlwell, The Escape, shortlisted for the 2011 Encore Award for the best second novel of 2009 and 2010.

Edmund de Waal, The Hare with Amber Eyes, shortlisted for the 2011 Jewish Quarterly–Wingate Prize; longlisted for the 2011 BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for NonFiction; shortlisted for the 2011 Independent Booksellers’ Book Prize, adults: winner of the 2011 RSL Ondaatje Prize.

The magazine would welcome any information from members who have won or been nominated for prizes, to be included in future issues. Please send details to: development@londonlibrary.co.uk

Library members a complimentary two-person ticket to this year’s Fair. Complimentary passes will be available for download from early September at lapadalondon.com/library.

BLACKS The Library has partnered with Blacks club in Soho to bring an additional outstanding member benefit throughout 2011: Blacks is allowing London Library members access to its elegant private club from 11am–6pm daily (show your Library membership card on entry).

Take a break to enjoy the club’s open fires, comfortable sofas and outstanding food and wine, just ten minutes walk from St James’s Square. 67 Dean Street, W1. 020 7287 3381.

SHOPPING

This is an advertisement feature.To advertise call Janet Durbin on 01625 583180

BYRON SOCIETY The Byron Society is perfect for those interested in Lord Byron’s poetry and letters, his life and times and the Romantic movement.

We hold lectures, readings and social events in London as well as visits in the UK and abroad with Byronic associations. We are pleased to offer London Library members who wish to join, a free back copy of the journal worth £15. For more details visit thebyronsociety.com, tel. 01329 235 527.

D.R. HARRIS D.R. Harris, Royal Warrant holder to HRH The Prince of Wales and purveyor of fine soaps, fragrances, shaving creams and other luxury grooming products, is pleased to welcome you into the store, or to visit us online, to enjoy an exclusive 10% discount (quote ‘London Library’ along with your membership number). From soaps to shaving creams, body lotions to skincare, as well as our newly launched Naturals collection, sample something special with D.R. Harris.

29 St James’s Street, SW1. 020 7930 3915. drharris.co.uk

emmett shirts

FLORIS

FOSTER & SON

GEO F TRUMPER

Established in 1730 and still run by the original family from 89 Jermyn Street, Floris create exquisite English perfumes to stand the test of time. To celebrate the launch of their redesign Floris are delighted to offer London Library members a 15% discount and a complimentary Rosa Centifolia Hand Treatment Cream worth £10 when they spend £75 pounds or more in the Floris Shop. Offer closes 28 September 2011. 89 Jermyn Street SW1. 020 7930 2885. florislondon.com

Foster’s is renowned for its exquisite bespoke and ready-towear boots, shoes and slippers; traditional English bridle leather luggage, cases and accessories; repair and refurbishment of shoes; and high-quality leather goods. Each item is made in England in the traditional way and can be bought in the shop or commissioned to give a unique, beautifully crafted product custom-made to individual specifications.

Fosters is offering a 10% discount to London Library members on proof of membership.

83 Jermyn Street, London SW1.

020 7930 5385. wsfoster.co.uk

When London Library members spend £50 or more at Geo F. Trumper, they will receive a complimentary 500ml Wild Fern Bath Cream (worth £20). Wild Fern is a wonderfully fresh, clean fragrance with notes of musk, oak moss and patchouli. Suitable for both men and women, Wild Fern Bath Cream creates a luxurious bath time, leaving skin delightfully fragrant and moisturised.

1 Duke of York Street, SW1.

020 7734 1370. trumpers.com

PENFRIEND Founded in 1950, Penfriend is London’s finest writing instrument specialist. We are pleased to offer all members of the London Library a 10% discount on production of their membership card (excludes limited editions and Montblanc pens). Offer ends 25 September 2011.

34 Burlington Arcade, London W1.

020 7499 6337. penfriend.co.uk

ROYAL SCHOOL OF NEEDLEWORK Embroidery classes Learn hand embroidery with our expert tutors in the beautiful surroundings of Hampton Court Palace. Choose from any of our one-day classes between September and December 2011 and receive a 10% discount (on bookings taken before 31/08/11, valid for one class only per customer). A range of introductory courses in various embroidery techniques is available. Special discount price of £62.10 (full price £69). Please quote LL0611 and email jessica.aldred@royal-needlework.org.uk or call 020 3166 6938. royal-needlework.org.uk

LALIQUE René Lalique is synonymous with creativity, beauty and quality. This year we celebrate the 150th anniversary of his birth by reproducing some of his iconic designs. In 2009 the Lalique Company merged with Daum Crystal and the famous porcelain maker Haviland in order to offer a wider range to its clientele. To members of the London Library, Lalique is pleased to offer a 10% discount on its collections on production of their membership card.

47 Conduit Street, W1. 020 7292 0444. cristallalique.fr 28 • THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE

Emmett Shirts are delighted to offer a 25% discount until 28 September 2011 to London Library members on their first purchase from our range of ready-to-wear shirts.

If you appreciate superior quality and are looking for a degree of exclusivity, then visit our shops at Jermyn Street, King’s Road and Eldon Street, where there are over 400 designs each season to choose from. Please show your London Library membership card to obtain your discount.

112a Jermyn Street, SW1. 020 7925 1299. emmettshirts.com

EATING OUT

DINING OUT NEAR THE LONDON LIBRARY This is an advertisement feature.

3 1 2 6 9 11

To advertise please call Janet Durbin

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10

4

7 12

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on 01625 583180.

1 ALAIN DUCASSE AT THE DORCHESTER Retaining three Michelin stars for the second year running, Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester has quickly become one of London’s most exciting restaurants. It is located in a light and elegant room with a contemporary design by Patrick Jouin, which overlooks Park Lane and Hyde Park.

The restaurant offers a modern but refined French cuisine, as interpreted

by Executive Chef Jocelyn Herland.

The Dorchester, Park Lane, W1, 020 7629 8888. thedorchester.com

2 THE BAR AT THE DORCHESTER The delights of the cocktail hour have returned to London at The Bar at The Dorchester, which is renowned for its rich, opulent interior and its menu of new and classic cocktails. The Bar boasts a fine selection of spirits, champagnes and wines, with a menu of elegant tartines, indulgent caviars and a chic afternoon tea.

The Dorchester, Park Lane, W1, 020 7629 8888. thedorchester.com

3 BELLAMY’S RESTAURANT Located in central Mayfair (near New Bond Street), Bellamy’s offers a classic French brasserie menu with an affordable famous-name wine list. The Oyster Bar, amongst other dishes, serves Bellamy’s famous ‘open’ sandwiches. Le patron mange ici. Open for lunch Mon–Fri; dinner Mon–Sat. 18–18a Bruton Place, W1, 020 7491 2727. bellamysrestaurant.co.uk

4 BENTLEY’S Owned by celebrity chef Richard Corrigan, Bentley’s combines an intimate Grill restaurant with a more relaxed Oyster Bar and a lovely ‘al-fresco’ terrace. The Grill focuses firmly on the freshness of Bentley’s fish, meat and game. Open 12–3pm; 6–11pm. The Oyster Bar offers a delicious selection of shellfish and fresh seafood served at the Marble Counter or in the Champagne Bar. Open noon– midnight daily. 11–15 Swallow Street, W1, 020 7734 4756. bentleysoysterbarandgrill.co.uk

5 DELHI BRASSERIE For over twenty years, the Delhi Brasserie has served outstanding traditional Indian Cuisine to the discerning diner. Situated in the heart of Soho on Frith Street and next to Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club, we provide a welcoming and vibrant atmosphere. Pre and post theatre menus are available. 15% discount for students with ID. 44 Frith Street, W1, 020 7437 8261. delhibrasserie.com

6 THE FOX CLUB Situated a stone’s throw from Green Park and the famous Hyde Park.

Our Dining Room is one of London’s best-kept secrets and, for those in the know, a lunch-time essential. The modern European menu changes on a weekly basis, offering refined excellence without being pretentious.

The effect is a change from the jaded palate of life. The Fox Club now offers a delightful afternoon tea from 3– 5pm.

To avoid disappointment make a reservation. 46 Clarges St, W1, 020 7495 3656. foxclublondon.com

7 FRANCOS Franco’s has been serving the community of St James’s for over 60 years. Open all day, the personality of the restaurant evolves from a quietly and gently efficient breakfast venue to a sharp and charged lunch atmosphere, to elegance and romance in the evening. The lunch and dinner menus highlight carefully prepared traditional and more modern Italian dishes, and the relaxed and friendly service ensures there is always somebody to greet you with a smile. 61 Jermyn Street, SW1, 020 7499 2211. francoslondon.com

8 GETTI A modern Italian restaurant at the fast-paced heart of London’s West End, Getti Jermyn Street is an authentic Italian dining venue in London’s historic tailoring district, dedicated to offering a traditional and memorable Italian dining experience.

A splendid destination for London locals and tourists alike, Getti Jermyn Street focuses on serving simple, regional dishes from mainland Italy.

Private dining available.

16/17 Jermyn Street, SW1, 020 7734 7334. getti.com

9 THE GRILL AT THE DORCHESTER Brian Hughson, Head Chef at The Grill, is passionate about using quality produce sourced from the British Isles. In addition to the British and classic grill dishes offered at The Grill, Brian has reinstated classics from the original Grill menu such as ‘Dish of the Day’, and the traditional roast-beef carving trolley introduced at The Grill when it first opened in 1931.

The Dorchester, Park Lane, W1, 020 7629 8888. thedorchester.com

10 HIX AT THE ALBEMARLE This fashionable restaurant offers an outstanding menu of classic British dishes, using local seasonal ingredients. Mark Hix and Marcus Verberne offer a full à-la-carte menu alongside a special set-lunch, pre-theatre and dinner menu of £27.50 for 2 courses and £32.50 for 3 courses. Brown’s is also home to the award-winning English Tea Room and the chic Donovan Bar. Brown’s Hotel, Albemarle St, W1, 020 7518 4004. thealbemarlerestaurant.com

11 THE PROMENADE AT THE DORCHESTER Very much the heart of the hotel, The Promenade is open all day for informal dining, serving breakfast, morning coffee, lunch, afternoon tea and a light supper menu. A perfect place to watch the world go by and enjoy The Dorchester’s world-famous traditional afternoon tea.

The Dorchester, Park Lane, W1, 020 7629 8888. thedorchester.com

12 WILTONS Established in 1742, Wiltons enjoys a reputation as the epitome of fine English dining in London. The atmosphere is perfectly matched with immaculately prepared fish, shellfish, game and meat. Choose from an exclusive wine list. Open for lunch and dinner, Mon–Fri. To make a reservation, please quote the London Library Magazine.

55 Jermyn Street, SW1, 020 7629 9955. wiltons.co.uk THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE • 31