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Bookplate Index by Library or Collector
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Rev. Thomas Robbins, Connecticut Historical Society The Reverend Thomas
Robbins (1777–1856) received on 28 July 1844 a letter from educator
Henry Barnard offering him the position of librarian in The Connecticut
Historical Society at Hartford. In his diary, Robbins, after noting
receipt of the letter, remarked: ‘‘It is all of the great mercy of
God.’’ A month later, on 25 July 1844, Barnard followed up that letter
with another one that enthusiastically called Robbins, ‘‘the man of
the Historical Society.’’ With those letters, Barnard relieved Robbins
of a considerable embarrassment and ensured that The Connecticut
Historical Society would have the services of one of the more eminent book
collectors and antiquarians of the time. Robbins, a bachelor
Congregational minister in Mattapoisett, Massachusetts, and involved in a
sex scandal over an innocent kiss, was in search of a new position; the
historical society, trying to renew itself after fifteen years of lifeless
inactivity and flush with the success of moving into new quarters at the
newly constructed Wadsworth Atheneum, was in search of a librarian. With
this appointment, a circle had come fully around. It was Robbins in 1822
who publicly called for the creation of a Connecticut historical society
and when one was officially established in 1825 became its first
corresponding secretary. At the time of his
removal from Mattapoisett to Hartford, Robbins was possessed of a
substantial library of about 3,600 volumes concerning history and theology
and about as many pamphlets. The society’s elders were clearly just as
interested in somehow acquiring the library as they were in acquiring
Robbins’s services. When Robbins was settled on as the society’s
librarian, one of his demands was an annual salary of $300, a sum intended
to cover not only his living expenses but also his book-collecting
activities. When the society’s funds could not cover that demand,
Barnard personally guaranteed Robbins that amount. Later, when the society
could not cover even the $300, Robbins proposed to deed over his library
to the society upon his death provided the society would pay him an annual
salary of $600. That condition was met, and upon Robbins’s death in
1855, his library became the society’s property, where it has remained
ever since, each volume marked with the handsome bookplate shown on the
cover. Robbins’s diaries
detail the problems of moving such a substantial library. On 5 September
1844, he remarks that the books already filled forty crates. On 10 and 11
September they were loaded aboard a ship bound for Hartford, where they
arrived on 19 September. In his diary Robbins expresses his concern about
the arrival of the shipment; his anxiety over the matter was probably
increased by the fact that as the shipment was being put aboard, ‘‘One
box was broken and some books were injured. A very confused scene.’’
But his mind was soon eased when upon unpacking the crates he discovered
that the books had nicely survived the week’s trip. Robbins had also had
the foresight to request that his Mattapoisett congregation pay to remove
his effects to Hartford. The congregation paid about $450 for the
privilege, a sum more than Robbins’s annual salary as society librarian
and the bulk of which went toward paying the freight on the book crates.
The day after the ship sailed for Hartford, Robbins remarked in his dairy
of his library and personal finances: ‘‘I am not worth as much aside
from my library as when I came to Mattapoisett, but would bless God for
what I have.’’ Once the library
arrived in Hartford and was unpacked and arranged in the society’s
rooms, it was the marvel of the city, a status it would hold for as long
as Robbins lived. As he noted often in his diary, visitors were frequent
even before the entire library was unpacked and put on the shelves, which
delayed putting the books in order. Other problems, such as lack of an
adequate heat source and improper shelves that had to be modified, also
delayed the full opening of the library. But on 25 October 1844, Robbins
remarked: ‘‘We finished putting up the books of my library. It was
nearly done before the present week. It is much admired. It has required
great labor.’’ Robbins, however, seemed mindful of his role as
librarian of the society. When Benjamin Lossing visited in 1847, his
recollections indicate quite clearly that Robbins spent a good deal of
time showing him the objects possessed by the society, as opposed to his
own library, which he apparently kept separate from the society’s
collections. Many distinguished visitors, such as Peter Force, called on
Robbins, and his library was visited regularly by people from far and
wide. Robbins apparently treated each visitor with courtesy and respect
and seems to have given a tour that would be the envy of any librarian to
this day. The library is rich
in history and theology, with most volumes still in their original
condition. Unlike some other collectors of his time, Robbins did not
rebind his books into Morocco or other flashy bindings, so most of the
bindings are original. Robbins does not appear to have been an extravagant
collector, because all his bookplates record the prices he paid for the
books to which they are affixed, and most of those prices are not
exorbitant. He paid $3.00 each for two slightly defective copies of the
second edition of the Eliot Indian Bible, both of which he bought at the
same time. He paid 50¢ for a copy of the first edition of Phyllis
Wheatley’s poems. One of the more amazing items in the library is a
complete run of the Journal des Sçavans, in 385 volumes, the first
scholarly periodical ever published, for which Robbins paid $100. Because
of his historical interests, Robbins also bought much older books. He
owned two incunables: a copy of Aquinas’s Super quarto libro
sentantiarum (Venice: Jensen, 1481), bought in 1839 for $3.00; and a
copy of Nicolaus de Lyra’s commentaries on Matthew (Nuremberg: Koberger,
1493), one volume of the original four, which he bought in 1846 for $8.00.
He also owned a copy of Marcus Musurus and Aldus Manutius’s Venice 1513
edition of Plato’s works, which he bought in 1846 for $30.00. But for
the most part, the books were the substantial fare of the day: a copy of
Jared Sparks’s edition of Franklin’s works (10 vols.; Boston, 1840),
bought in 1848 for $15.00; an edition of Jonathan Edwards’s works (10
vols.; New York, 1829), purchased in 1834 for $17.50; an edition of John
Witherspoon’s works (4 vols.; Philadelphia, 1800–01), acquired in 1819
for $6.00; and a copy of Sparks’s edition of George Washington’s
letters (12 vols.; Boston, 1838–39), for which he paid $42.00 in 1840.
One minor indication of bibliographic worldly vanity, against which
Robbins continually asked God for strength, may be seen in his copy of
Robert Watts’s Psalms of David (London, 1783). Robbins’s copy
is in a magnificent contemporary binding of red straight-grain Morocco
with gilt working. To this copy he added a small black leather label at
the foot of the spine on which his State of Connecticut, has resulted in
the rebinding of most of the damaged quarto and folio volumes. Other
volumes are restored with the society’s own funds. Thus, Robbins’s
library begins again to resume its former shape. Most of these titles have
now been catalogued on OCLC. As part of Robbins’s legacy, the society
also received all his personal manuscripts. Among those manuscripts are
the annual inventories he made of his library, thus allowing us to see
exactly how the library grew over the years. As his library increased,
Robbins had to have new furniture made to hold the volumes. The society
also possesses all that furniture, including his original library tables. Robbins was a
deeply religious man who sought God’s guidance and discipline in all
things. The formation of his library was no exception, and the item
bearing bookplate #1 is a Bible. Deep in contemplation about what was to
become of the collection, he noted in his diary for 4 November 1845,
‘‘Last evening endeavored to consecrate myself anew to the disposal of
God, particularly with regard to my property.’’ He altered his will
numerous times to provide different methods of ensuring his library’s
continued existence after his death, before finally contracting with the
society on 27 May 1846 to bequeath the library to the society in exchange
for an annual salary of $600. Robbins was at one time considering giving
the books to Harvard but heeded his sister’s advice concerning the
problem of adding to Harvard’s ‘‘duplicates.’’ Upon his death,
the library became the society’s property. Ever mindful of his mission,
however, Robbins also left the society the sum of $1,000 to be used for
‘‘the preservation and increase’’ of the society’s library. To
this day not only his library but also his bequest is being used for the
benefit of all researchers at The Connecticut Historical Society. Everett
C. Wilkie Jr. Hartford, Connecticut [Originally published in Libraries & Culture, vol. 32, no. 4 (Fall 1997): .]
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| Last updated June 8, 2001 |
