Great Auctions of the Past
The A. Edward Newton Auction
Part One

On a recent Antiques Roadshow, a participant brought a copy of the 1896 London edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses with illustrations by Charles Robinson. Before receiving the good news of the value of this well-preserved volume, the bookplate of A. Edward Newton was pointed out to him. The book’s owner obviously did not know of A. Edward Newton, because, first, he would have known full well that the book was valuable, and, furthermore, would not likely have been at the Antiques Roadshow, but rather at one of the many great book fairs across the country. For, in the annals of book collecting, A. Edward Newton was known for his bibliographic discernment as well as being, arguably, the foremost author on the subject of bibliophily during the golden age of book collecting.

A self-made man with a grand love for literature and travel, Newton (1864-1940) was late in becoming the preeminent bibliophilic author of his age: “Other than the very scarce Bangs & Co. auction catalogue and the other ephemeral booklets, Newton’s first attempt at writing for the public occurred in The Atlantic Monthly in March 1915 and was entitled ‘The Amenities of Book Collecting-Collecting Abroad.’ The intervention of the war delayed the publication of his first book of collected essays until 1918.”

Newton, then, was fifty-four when The Amenities of Book-Collecting and Kindred Affections (Atlantic Monthly Press) appeared in book form, but it was a launching, for, during the next twenty-two years, bibliophiles would delight in a series of collected essays that encapsulated the book collecting avocation in a charming style that belied the author’s erudition. Newton never claimed to be a scholar, though he counted among his friends and acquaintances some of the greatest scholars of his era. At the same time, however, he made it clear that his passion for literature was second to no one’s. Beyond the chronicler was the man who befriended anyone who loved the book. A. Edward Newton was renowned among those who read his works, but there was an inner circle who knew the man himself, and it was the man himself, inseparable from the, dare I say, spiritual connection to the printed word, that endowed him unalterably to those close friends who never viewed him but as sincere in his love of the physical book, love of literature, and love of humankind.

In addition to his bibliophilic contributions and his own book collecting, Newton was ineluctably tied to all aspects of the book. His small private printings of Christmas gifts, begun in 1907 and continuing until his last Christmas in 1939, have become collectible items in their own right. Fortunate were the friends of Newton who received A Leech Drawing (1923), text and color reproduction drawn by Leech for Dickens’ A Christmas Carol; a 1909 Christmas greeting that included a reproduction of a Samuel Johnson bookplate; or, The Christmas Greeting (1930), a sixteen page pamphlet that included a reproduction of the first Christmas card. The source materials were, of course, from Newton’s own collection. An ardent admirer of Samuel Johnson and, generally, all things English, especially from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Newton also wrote Doctor Johnson, A Play (The Atlantic Monthly Press, 1923), and, in 1930, he penned Mr. Strahan’s Dinner Party, A Comedy in One Act with Prologue and Epilogue . . . and a Note by Edward F. O’Day. This latter play described “a mythical meeting between Dr. Franklin and Dr. Johnson at the printer Strahan’s house,” a precursor to Steve Allen’s PBS production Meeting of the Minds (1977-1981).

Newton’s own home, Oak Knoll, had long been a meeting place for scholars, librarians, collectors and dealers, and, in his 1934 Christmas booklet he put into motion the founding of a formal society for the appreciation of Anthony Trollope, a society that has expanded internationally since Newton’s origination. In his pamphlet, Newton expounded upon Trollope’s greatness: “Here and now I proclaim the fact that Anthony Trollope has written a greater number of first-class novels than Dickens or Thackeray or George Eliot - I had almost said than these novelists combined - but I wish to be modest in my statements.” Newton added a checklist of the writings of Trollope at the end of his pamphlet and also inserted a flyer soliciting membership and establishing the Society’s mission. In particular, “the Trollope Society will cooperate with a first-class publisher who will publish from time to time Trollope’s Novels and Tales in a format which shall be at once uniform, legible, easy to hold, and inexpensive. Such an edition is long overdue.” That mission remains to this day.

Oft described as a twentieth-century Pickwick, his idiosyncratic fashion of checked suits and bow ties was not seen as affected but inveterately Newtonian. Quite simply, Newton was revered by sheer force of his personality which suffused his writings. Charles Grosvenor Osgood, then Professor of English Literature Emeritus, Princeton University, noted in the Newton auction catalogue: “Mr. Newton wrote of ‘this book-collecting game,’ and no one ever enjoyed its rigors more than he. ‘I am incurably acquisitive,’ he once said. But ’twas a mere particle of the fact. He discovered for thousands of others the innocent avocation of collecting books, but for him it was of the very essence of living, and business was his avocation.”

Bibliophiles delight in anecdotes and, should we search the annals for popular book-collecting truisms, no doubt many would originate with Newton. A sampling of Newton quotations appeared in the auction catalogue: “When I am going to be extravagant I always like the encouragement of my wife and I usually get it”; “Money alone will not make a bibliophile, although, I confess, it develops one”; “A man without a hobby is to be pitied and avoided: if he is not exactly looking for trouble, he is, at least, willing to meet it halfway; he gets no joy out of life and he has little sympathy for those who do. I don’t much care what a man’s hobby is: he is a better fellow for having one”; and “I sometimes think that the greatest joy that comes from playing this book-collecting game is the delightful acquaintances one makes, which tastes in common soon flower into friendships.”

The death of A. Edward Newton in the fall of 1940 was a time of great sorrow for the bibliophilic community, for Newton had been model and mentor for three generations of book collectors and his reputation was international. In “An Appreciation” in the October 3, 1940, The London Times, Lord Stamp wrote: “Edward was a delightful companion who had the knack of making the least bookish share his adventures and excitements, and he covered a queer discursive scholarship, that gave him a unique standing among men of letters, with amusing diffidence.” Each of the three catalogues of the Newton collection contained a special essay by old friends, Osgood of Princeton (mentioned above), Frederick Albert Pottle, Professor of English, Yale University, and, quite tellingly, the businessman William Holland Winterrowd of The Baldwin Locomotive Works, who “discovered A. Edward Newton to be both a business man and scholar – a rare combination. If more business and professional men could learn to love, know, and collect books they would find it a wonderfully broadening avocation. The three greatest teachers in life are men, books, and experience.” Pottle, the Yale scholar, added that “any one who in these later days has allowed himself to adopt a patronizing tone towards Newton’s abilities as a writer had better reread that essay [i.e., “20”] and ask himself how many American essayists have handled the familiar style better. He said he got his ability in that direction by writing advertisements for electrical apparatus, and there may be something in it.”

For all the richness of his life — his family, his work, his enduring friendships — Newton left one final testament, his book collection. Built over his lifetime, Newton never denied that the collection was the product of a partnership with his wife, Babette (née Edelheim), who unfortunately died before the collection went to auction in 1941. Their son, Swift Newton, was executor of the estate and, citing the dedication of his father’s first book, also dedicated the catalogue to his mother. A. Edward Newton had written in October, 1918: “If, as Eugene Field suggests, women-folk are few in that part of paradise especially reserved for book-lovers, I do not care. One woman will be there, for I shall insist that eight and twenty years probation entitles her to share in my bibliobliss above as she has shared it here below. That woman is my wife.”

With great anticipation by the world bibliophilic community, the collection of the admired and inimitable A. Edward Newton would go to auction at the Parke-Bernet Galleries in 1941. I will discuss the auction itself, sold in three parts in April, May, and October, in the Fall 2005 issue of the FABS Newsletter. In the interim, might I suggest that a reading or re-reading of the writings of A. Edward Newton might prove fortifying.

Geoffrey D. Smith
Professor and Head, Rare Books and Manuscripts,
Room 327, The Ohio State University Libraries
1858 Neil Avenue Mall, Columbus, OH 43210
614 292-5938   fax 614 292-7859
smith.1@osu.edu