Samuel Johnson’s ‘A Dictionary of the English Language’ was published on 15 April 1755. This month’s blog post explores how Johnson’s ‘Dictionary’ reduced in size over the decades and centuries. We take a look at miniature dictionaries in our collection, and find out how the publication history of Johnson’s most famous work played a part in him becoming a household name.
The first edition
Johnson’s extraordinary achievement began when he signed the contract for a dictionary project in June 1746, and he published his plan for the work a year later. Johnson’s Dictionary was not the first, but he aimed for a work that would have more everyday application than the “pompous luxuriance” of his predecessors, and which would have more accurate definitions. Once words are chosen, they need to be interpreted: “a task”, Johnson said, “of which the extent and intricacy is sufficiently shown by the miscarriage of those who have generally attempted it.” Johnson wrote for readers and recognised the importance of examples of usage for his task, leading to the final two volume Dictionary containing 116,000 quotations.
When Johnson’s Dictionary was published in 1755, 2000 copies of the large two-volume folio-sized book were produced at a cost of £4:10s, a highly priced item which would have been beyond the reach of many households. Treasured in the libraries of educational institutions and elite residences, it is estimated that around half of the first print run has survived.
Johnson’s Dictionary – from the largest to the smallest in the Birthplace Collection
The first abridgements
The folio version of the Dictionary continued to be printed, with four volumes appearing within Johnson’s lifetime (the fifth was published just days after Johnson died in 1784), but a cheaper alternative became available from 1756. The first abridged edition, abstracted from the folio by Johnson, appeared in 1756 and ran into eight editions before 1786. Priced at ten shillings, it was considerably cheaper and at least 40,000 copies were sold between those years, compared to 3,000-4,000 copies of the larger folio in the same period. By the end of the 18th century, Johnson’s Dictionary would have been known as the authority in most literature households.
The Miniature Dictionaries.
Over 300 different types of pocket and miniature dictionaries were produced from 1784 through to around 1900. Johnson’s name had become synonymous with the Dictionary and the appearance of novelty versions indicates that he had become a very familiar presence. Although they were often called ‘Johnson’, they cannot be considered as editions of Johnson’s Dictionary in the sense that they include little of his original definitions and his selected examples of usage. Many have been ‘improved’ with the addition of historical facts, lists of market towns, pronunciations and other miscellaneous information, adding to their status as pocket curiosities and gift items. Almost all of them carry a portrait of Johnson in the front.
The smallest dictionary in the Museum collection measures just three centimetres tall. This very miniature Dictionary was produced in the 1890s and was sold with its own magnifying clip. You can see it on display in the ‘Dictionary Room’ at the Museum.
The most recent miniature edition to join our collection is a curious little ‘Thumb Dictionary’, donated to us in 2022, dating from around 1890-1900. An ink inscription shows that it was once owned by a child, who proudly wrote their name and class number at the front. Carrying a portrait and ‘Johnson’s Dictionary’ in the title-page, this item for a school-child’s pocket indicates the extent to which Johnson had become a household name by the twentieth century.
Selected further reading on Johnson’s Dictionary:J.D Fleeman’s ‘A Bibliography of the Works of Samuel Johnson’ (Oxford, 2000); Allen Reddick’s ‘The Making of Johnson’s Dictionary 1746 – 1773’ (Cambridge, 1990); James L Clifford ‘Dictionary Johnson’ (Heinemann, 1979).
Did you know that 30 March is Pencil day? In this blog post Sarah Dale has been finding out more about this important writing tool, and we take a close look at Johnson’s own pencil from our collection
The pencil is an under-rated invention, and deserves both to be more celebrated and to have its own special day. Samuel Johnson gives three definitions for the noun pencil in his dictionary:
A small brush of hair which painters dip in their colours
A black lead pen, with which cut to a point they write without ink
Any instrument of writing without ink
Johnson’s Dictionary
The etymology is from Latin, penicillus, painter’s brush, diminutive of peniculus, little tail (and closely related to Latin penis, originally meaning tail). So “pencil” is a good example of a word whose meaning has been changed to accommodate a new invention, in just the same way that “plastic”, defined by Johnson as an adjective meaning having the power to give form, has come to mean a whole new class of material first invented by Leo Baekeland in 1907.
The earlier relative of what we now call a pencil was a metal point stylus, often made of lead, tin or silver and used for writing on soft surfaces such as wax, drawing lines and under drawing on parchment and drawing on prepared paper. These worked because the soft metal left lines on the drawing surface. An example of this technique is Albrecht Durer’s Self-Portrait at the Age of 13, dated 1484, drawn in silverpoint
The history of the humble pencil throws an interesting sidelight on the history of Europe, with important discoveries being made by English, German, Italian and French inventors and manufacturers, often driven by scarcity caused by wars and social upheaval.
The pencil that we know and love today owes its origins to the discovery in 1565 of a large deposit of graphite on the approach to Grey Knotts from the hamlet of Seathwaite in Borrowdale, Cumbria. This deposit was very pure and solid and could easily be sawn into sticks. Remarkably, this is still the only large scale deposit of graphite in this form ever found. The science of chemistry hadn’t developed enough at this period for people to know exactly what this mineral was, so it was thought to be a form of lead, as this was what it looked like and was called plumbago, Latin for “lead ore”. It’s because of this that the black core of a pencil is called a lead, even though no lead is actually involved. The words for pencil in German (Bleistift), Irish (peann luaidhe) and Arabic (قلم رصاص qalam raṣāṣ) literally mean “lead pen”.
In fact graphite is a pure form of carbon and chemically identical to diamond – in terms of physical structure. However, in other ways they are very different, as will be immediately obvious if you have a diamond ring to hand and compare it closely with the inside bit of your pencil!
People quickly realised how useful graphite was, mainly because it could be used to line cannonball moulds, so the mines were taken over by the Crown and guarded. Safeguarding supplies was taken extremely seriously, and when sufficient stores of graphite had been dug out the mines were flooded until more was needed.
Although it was clear that graphite was also very useful for drawing cannonball moulds had priority and for some time graphite for pencils had to be smuggled. Also, because graphite is very soft it has to be wrapped in something to make it into a usable writing tool. The first solution was to wrap the sticks in string or sheepskin. In around 1560 an Italian couple, Simonio and Lyndiana Bernacotti, came up with what are probably the first blueprints for a modern-style wood-encased pencil. The first solution was to hollow out a juniper stick and insert the graphite into that. It was then discovered that it was easier to carve 2 wooden halves, put the “lead” in the middle and glue the wood together. This is the way most modern pencils are made
Pencil manufacturing. The top sequence shows the old method that needed pieces of graphite to be cut to size; the lower sequence is the current method using rods of graphite and clay.
Thanks to the Cumbrian graphite mine England enjoyed a pencil monopoly until 1662, when a German innovator in Nuremburg found a way of making graphite powder into solid sticks by mixing it with sulphur and antimony. Original English square cut pencils including “leads” cut from natural graphite were made until the 1860s. Pencils are still made in a factory in Keswick, which is on the same site as the Derwent Pencil Museum.
During the French Revolutionary Wars (1792 – 1799) closely followed by the Napoleonic Wars (1800 – 1815), France, under British naval blockage, was unable to access either Cumbrian pure graphite pencils or the (rather inferior) German substitute. Necessity being the mother of invention, in 1795 Nicolas-Jacques Conté, an officer in Napoleon’s army, worked out a way to mix powdered graphite with clay and form the mixture into rods that could then be baked in a kiln. One advantage of this technique was that by varying the ratio of graphite to clay the hardness of the graphite rod could also be varied. This method had been independently discovered earlier by an Austrian, Joseph Hardtmuth, who founded the Koh-I-Noor Company in 1790. The Koh-I-Noor Company patented the process in 1802.
While in England, pencils continued to be made from whole sawn graphite, Henry Bessemer‘s first successful invention in 1838 was a method of compressing graphite powder into solid graphite which made it possible to reuse what had previously been a waste product. When you look at the end of your pencil (especially if it’s been made in the UK or Europe) you will usually see 2 capital letters, H and B, either together or singly preceded by a number from 2 – 9. H stands for Hardness and B for Blackness, while the higher the number the more of that particular quality the pencil has. So, for example, an HB pencil is an average writing pencil, while a 9H would be very hard, producing a fine, light line and a 9B very soft, making a wider, darker line that will also tend to smudge. This classification has been used from at least as early as 1844.
A final fun pencil fact is that during the Second World War the Cumberland Pencil Factory made secret map and compass pencils for airmen – both map and compass were concealed in the pencil.
The theme of concealment brings us back to Samuel Johnson and his own pencil from the Birthplace Museum collection. Hidden in the top of the binding of his Moroccan-bound writing tablets is the holder for a pencil. These tablets are pocket-sized and marked with days of the week, with a reusable surface. It is incredible to think that Johnson may have pulled this out and used the cut pencil it would have contained to jot down his thoughts and reminders.
Samuel Johnson’s pencil holder from the Birthplace Museum collectionSamuel Johnson’s writing tablets. The pencil holder nestles inside the top right of the slip case
We are marking International Women’s Day in March with events at the Museum and in this month’s blog post, in which Museum Attendant Laura celebrates the lives of three extraordinary, but often overlooked, eighteenth century women.
Caroline Lucretia Herschel was one of the pioneering women who paved the way for female astronomers. She was born in 1750 in Hanover, Germany. Her brother was William Herschel, the astronomer who discovered the planet, Uranus. In 1772 Caroline moved to Bath in England to live with her brother, where he was working as a musician and music teacher. She became a singer and ran her brother’s household.
William became interested in astronomy and made his own telescopes. Caroline recorded her brother’s observations and polished the mirrors of the telescopes. The siblings made new discoveries and William became the King’s astronomer and was given a salary.
The Herschels moved closer to Windsor Castle and began using a specially built 20ft telescope. Caroline was officially named William’s assistant astronomer. A few years later they moved again and had a 40ft telescope built. By now Caroline was making her own discoveries, she found eight comets and several nebulae, such as NGC 7380, NGC 7789, and NGC 253 [1]. In 1787, her work was finally recognised, and she was granted an annual salary by George III. She began to cross-index a star catalogue by John Flamsteed, to which she made corrections and added 560 stars. The catalogue was published in 1798.
After her brother’s death in 1822, Caroline returned to Hanover. Along with Mary Somerville, Caroline was elected an honorary member of the Royal Astronomical Society. She was also elected an honorary member of the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin, and she was awarded a gold medal for science by the King of Prussia. So important were her contributions to astronomy, that several discoveries were named after her, including the asteroid 281 Lucretia, discovered in 1888. Caroline Herschel died in 1848, a rare example of an eighteenth-century woman whose professional contributions were recognised in her lifetime.
Eleanor Coade manufactured and sold artificial stone, a cheaper alternative to traditional stone, which proved a huge success at a time when people were adorning their homes and gardens with neo-classicism sculptures. Born in 1733 in Exeter, Eleanor moved to London and set up in business as a linen draper. In 1769 she bought an artificial stone manufacturing business, where she adapted and improved an existing formula to make a material that looked like the real thing. It carved well, was resistant to weathering, could be made hollow and was quick to manufacture and mass produce. Many sculptures and decorations made from Coade stone still stand today, not just in Britain, but across the globe. George IV used Coade Stone in the refurbishment and extension of Buckingham Palace [1].
Eleanor brought out a catalogue in 1784, which had almost 750 designs [2]. To meet the high demand for her products, she opened a new showroom, called Coade’s Gallery. For 14 years she took on a business partner, but she remained the owner and was responsible for the majority of its success.
Eleanor died in 1821. She kept her formula secret from everyone but a select few, and never patented it. The business was bought after her death and continued manufacturing for another twenty years. Not much is known about Eleanor’s personal life, and there are no known portraits of her. She was an astute business woman, and incredibly successful in an industry that was dominated by men. When Eleanor died, she left some of her money to her married female friends, however there was a stipulation that the money was to be theirs alone, and not owned by their husbands, as was custom at the time.
Anna Williams was born 1706 in Wales. She moved to London in 1727 with her father, Zachariah Williams, a physician and scientist. Anna could do needle work; write poetry and she knew French and Italian. She briefly assisted Stephen Gray, who was an investigator of electricity [1], before she went blind in 1740. Anna carried on as best she could and cared for her aging father. The two became known to Samuel Johnson, and he arranged for a surgeon to operate on her eyes, in the hope she might regain her sight. Unfortunately, it was unsuccessful, and she remained blind for the rest of her life. Anna stayed on at Johnson’s home to recover and then became his housekeeper, with short intervals, for over thirty years [2].
Anna published a translation from French of Bléterie’s Life of the Emperor Julian in 1746, and in 1766 her Miscellanies in Prose and Verse was published, with contributions from Johnson. Although neither made much income for Anna, it was still a remarkable achievement for a blind woman, living in Georgian England, to became a published author. Anna still had little money, and she applied for an annual stipend of £10 from a charity for the blind. She was unsuccessful [3], however, thanks to a small allowance from Johnson and various contributions from others, Anna ended up with an income. As well as being a published poet and Johnson’s housekeeper, Williams also contributed her time to a Ladies’ Charity School. When she died, Anna made the school the sole beneficiary in her will [4].
Known for her bad temper, Boswell describes Anna as being “very peevish; and [he] wondered at Johnson’s patience with her . . .” Two of Anna’s biggest nemeses in Johnson’s household were Mrs. Desmoulins, who left the house in 1783, due to repeatedly clashing with Anna for years, and Francis Barber, who left Johnson’s in 1756 due to arguments with Williams – although he returned some years later. Johnson described his warring household in a letter: “Williams hates everybody. Levett hates Desmoulins and does not love Williams. Desmoulins hates them both. Poll loves none of them.”
Johnson drank tea with Anna most nights, which Boswell reports in his Life of Johnson. Boswell observed that when Anna poured out the tea, she determined the cup was full by putting her finger into the cup to touch it. Although in the footnotes, he admits he may have made a mistake, adding “. . . I have been informed . . . that she acquired such a niceness of touch, as to know, by the feeling on the outside of the cup, how near it was to being full.”
With Anna’s health continuing to decline, she spent three summers in the countryside, but she eventually succumbed to her ailments and died in 1783. Johnson was visiting a friend at the time and received the news of her death by letter telling him that “ . . . She died without struggle, retaining her faculties entire to the very last . . .” Johnson wrote to a friend “My loss is really great. She had been my domestick companion for more than thirty years, and when I come home, I shall return to a desolate habitation.” He also wrote to his daughter-in-law Lucy in 1783: “Last month died Mrs. Williams*, who had been to me for thirty years in the place of a sister . . .” It is possible that few knew Johnson the way Anna Williams knew him.
References
Caroline Herschel: [1] NGC 7380, NGC 7789, NGC 253 https://nasasearch.nasa.gov/search?query=caroline+herschel&affiliate=nasa&utf8=%E2%9C%93 [2] http://scientificwomen.net/women/herschel-caroline-43 Further reading: All Things Georgian: Tales from the Long Eighteenth-Century by Joanne Major & Sarah Murden. Eleanor Coade: [1] [2] Trailblazing Women of the Georgian Era: The Eighteenth-Century Struggle for Female Success in a Man’s World by Mike Rendell. Anna Williams: [1] [3] [4] Dr Johnson’s Household by Lyle Larsen [2] The Fortunes of Francis Barber: The True Story of the Jamaican Slave Who Became Samuel Johnson’s Heir by Michael Bundock * Anna never married, but ‘Mrs’ was often used for an unmarried older lady, or for an unmarried business women.
This month’s blog post has been provided by our volunteer Margery Dunlevy. Margery made afascinating observation in the attic of the Museum, and has been finding out more.
I recently helped with a sixth form visit to the Birthplace. Standing on the landing of the top floor, waiting to move one of the groups to another room, I suddenly became aware of a ‘daisy wheel’ carved on one of the doorposts.
A Daisy Wheel witch mark at the entrance of the ‘Dictionary Room’ at the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum
Witches’ marks can take a variety of forms. Some are just wavy lines that intertwine. Some take the form of a capital M and a capital V carved on top of one another – standing for “Virgin Mary”, but the most easily recognizable is the so-called “Daisy Wheel”.
The idea is that the evil will get into the wheel but will be trapped there, going round and round, and be unable to get out again, protecting the house. They can be carved on stone or on wood – Baddesley Clinton has several of both types, and are usually placed on chimneys or on entrances to houses so that the evil will not be able to come in.
The mark on the doorpost at the Birthplace is unusual in two ways. Firstly it is nowhere near the entrance to the house, and secondly we know that the house was not built until 1708, long after you would think the practice of carving witches’ marks had died out. This suggests that the timbers were originally from a much older house. This might have been the previous house on this site, or they may have been brought from somewhere else.
If you look at the timbers in the attic you can see that many of them have been reused as they are carved to take mortice and tenon joints but are now not in a position to connect with other timbers.
There were other ways in which a house could be protected against witches. Witch Bottles were small pottery bottles which were filled with amulets, small scrolls herbs, feathers or seashells hidden in the roof timbers were believed to keep witches away. People hung ‘witch balls’ – brightly coloured glass spheres – in their windows. It was also believed that if you put a pair of old shoes or a dead cat behind the chimney this would protect you.
I don’t suppose we will ever find out where the timbers at the Birthplace came from originally, but it would be fascinating to find out!
This December, visitors to the Museum can enjoy our special display ‘A Georgian Christmas’. In this month’s blog post, Museum Attendant and display organiser Laura explores festive customs in Johnson’s century.
In his Dictionary of the English Language, Johnson’s entry for Christmas is: ‘the day on which the nativity of our blessed saviour is celebrated, by the particular service of the church.’ In Georgian England, Christmas day was celebrated by attending church in the morning, then back home or to someone else’s house for a hearty feast and entertainment in the evening. The Georgians loved a celebration, so let’s take a look at how they enjoyed Christmas…
Johnson at Christmas
We don’t have much information about what Samuel Johnson got up to at Christmas. But there are a number of letters in which he mentions the holiday season, such as this excerpt from a letter to Boswell on 27 December 1777: ‘This is the time of year in which all express their good wishes to their friends, and I send mine to you and your family. May your lives be long, happy, and good …’. At the Birthplace Museum we have a special object which is possibly associated with the Johnson’s Christmas: A copy of The Book of Common Prayer, which was once owned by Elizabeth ‘Tetty’ Johnson, Samuel’s wife. Inscribed on the fly leaf, in the top right corner are the words: ‘Eliz. Johnson Dec 25, 1740’ Perhaps this was a Christmas gift from her husband?
Elizabeth Johnson’s copy of The Book of Common Prayer. The Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum.
Food
At Christmas the affluent would show off their wealth by eating over-the-top, rich food. They would enjoy roast meat or fowl, mince pies, Christmas pie, hams, Christmas pudding and there would be a wassail bowl of punch. There is a recipe for Yorkshire Christmas Pie in a cooking book by Mrs. Frazer, published in 1795, which required a turkey, goose, a fowl, and a partridge, as well as a pigeon. Once seasoned, a hare, woodcock and moor-game would be added. Then, as if all this wasn’t quite heavy enough, four pounds of butter was combined and the lid of the pie ‘which must be quite thick’ sealed everything inside. This would then be cooked in ‘a very hot oven’ for four hours. In the same book there is a recipe for Christmas Minced Pies. The recipe required ‘the largest tongue you can get’ to this, three pounds of beef suet, and three pounds of raisins, currants, apples, citron, and orange peel were added. These were seasoned, and white wine was added, then it was all fashioned into pies.
Socialising
The Georgians enjoyed socialising all year round and Christmas was no exception, with festive parties, balls, dinners, gambling and plays to attend. These were often announced in the newspaper, such as in the Reading Mercury – 26 December 1796 ‘Wm. Grave respectfully informs the nobility and gentry, that his annual Christmas Ball will be on Monday the 9th of January 1797.’ And on Christmas Eve 1798, Jane Austen wrote to her sister to describe a seasonal ball that she had attended ‘There were twenty dances, and I danced them all without any fatigue.’[1] James Boswell wrote in his journal on Christmas Day 1762, about having dinner with friends and how Christmas ‘has always inspired me with most agreeable feelings…’ He attended a sermon at St. Paul’s Church and then dined with two friends, with whom he discussed geniuses and poetry with. He wrote ‘how hearty I eat and how comfortable I felt myself after it.’[2]
Gift giving
The niece of Jane Austen, Emma Austen Leigh, kept a record of all her Christmas gifts from 1813 to 1821. It gives us an insight into presents exchanged in the later Georgian and Regency Period. In 1813 she was gifted: A tambourine, a compass case, a straw box, and a parallel ruler.[3] A child’s gift was advertised in the London Courier and Evening Gazette, December 1805, – a book priced at half-a-crown called ‘Mince Pies for Christmas’ for children of all ages. It contained a selection of ‘Riddles, charades, rebuses and has been compiled with a view at once to improve … interest and amusement.’ During the festive period the wealthy would give small gifts to their servants, in the Newcastle Chronicle December 1765 ‘A very proper Christmas-box for servant-maids’ was mentioned. For the price of 1s.6d this book promised to be ‘…every young woman’s companion, in useful and universal knowledge…’ it taught the servant-maid how to spell, read and write, as well as arithmetic, all taught without the help of a master. It also taught the reader how to cook and carve fish and meat. Ultimately, the servant’s employer would also benefit from these newly acquired skills. The church and wealthy usually gave gifts and alms to the poor at Christmas, in a letter to her sister in 1798, Jane Austen wrote about the gifts she gave to charities and the poor for Christmas ‘…of my charities to the poor since I came home, I have given a pair of worsted stockings … a shift … and a shawl … amounting in all to about half a guinea.’ [4]
Entertainment
Families created their own Christmas entertainment by playing Charades, Snap Dragon, and cards. They also played instruments, danced, recited songs and poetry, told each other stories, and re-enacted short plays. Carols were sung during Christmas time, and people would also go door-to-door wassailing. Many of these carols would be recognisable to us today, such as: Hark the Herald Angels sing, Silent Night, and While Shepard’s Watched. Johnson’s friend David Garrick put on a number of Christmas plays at Drury Lane, which Johnson possibly went to watch: Harlequin’s Invasion – 1759, The Enchanter; or, Love and Magic – 1760, and A Christmas Tale – 1773. Harlequin’s Invasion was Garrick’s only pantomime and it featured a talking Harlequin, who was usually mute. Garrick didn’t enjoy pantomimes, however he had to give the people what they wanted, and he is said to have wearily exclaimed “If you won’t come for Lear or Hamlet, then I must give you Harlequin.”
Although Christmas trees didn’t become a tradition until the Victorian period, Queen Charlotte is said to have had Christmas trees at the royal palace in 1800.[5] People decorated their homes with seasonal greenery such as evergreens, holly and ivy, garlands, herbs and of course mistletoe, which would be hung at parties and enjoyed by courting couples. Mistletoe is depicted in many Christmas artworks of the time.
The festive period ended on the twelfth day after Christmas, with yet more celebration. Twelfth night balls were often thrown, such as the one mentioned in the morning post, 8 January 1814 ‘The countess of Orkney gave a splendid Ball and supper at her apartments at Hampton-Court, on Twelfth Night. The dancing commenced at nine o’clock; and it was a late hour when the party broke up.’ On 6 January 1763, James Boswell wrote in his journal ‘This was Twelfth-day; on which a great deal of jollity goes on in England; at the eating of the twelfth cake all sugar’d over.’[6] The twelfth cake was a big, sugared cake ‘made of flour, honey, ginger, and pepper’[7] which took pride of place on the table at feasts and parties, it was often baked with a bean or coin inside it and the person who found it would become Queen or King for the day. Boswell goes on to describe his enjoyment of twelfth cake ‘I took a whim that between St. Paul’s and the Exchange and back again, taking the different sides of the street, I would eat a penny twelfth cake at every shop where I could get it. This I performed most faithfully.’ [8]
Nowadays, people tend to think Christmas didn’t become popular until the Victorian period, but as you can see it was very much celebrated and enjoyed in the Georgian Era. Hopefully this blog post will give you some idea of how Johnson and his friends might have enjoyed their Christmases. To conclude I would like to share what Ian Mortimer wrote of Georgian Christmases in his book The Time Traveller’s Guide to Regency Britain: ‘The ways in which people express their goodwill might alter down the ages, but that general mood remains the same. As a result, you are most likely to feel at home in Regency Britain on 25 December than perhaps on any other day in the year.’
Resources:
[1] [3] [4] Jane Austen’s Christmas: The Festive Season in Georgian England. Compiled by Maria Hubert. [5] The Time Traveller’s Guide to Regency Britain by Ian Mortimer. [2] [6] [8] London Journal 1762 – 1763 by James Boswell. [7] Cumberland Pacquet, and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – Wednesday 26 January 1791
This September we are joining heritage sites across the UK to take part in the national Heritage Open Days fortnight. The theme of this year’s event is ‘Astounding Inventions’. Arguably Johnson’s Dictionary of 1755 was an astounding invention in itself – bringing together the principles of his forerunners to create the first modern Dictionary in the format that we still recognise. In this month’s blog post we look at Samuel Johnson’s interest in what we might typically think of as ‘Astounding inventions’, as we find out about his interest in the science, technology and innovation of his age.
Johnson’s Chemistry Experiments
After meeting in 1765, Johnson spent much time at the house of his friends Henry and Hester Thrale in Streatham. Vignettes of life at Streatham present Johnson as relaxed, playful and practical – one summer he took to binding books in the summerhouse. Such was his interest in science, that he undertook his own experiments. Hester Thrale (later Piozzi), writes in her Anecdotes (1786):
“Dr. Johnson was always exceeding fond of chemistry; and we made up a sort of laboratory at Streatham one summer, and diverted ourselves with drawing essences and colouring liquors. But the danger Mr. Thrale found his friend in one day when I was driven to London, and he had got the children and servants round him to see some experiments performed, put an end to all our entertainment, so well was the master of the house persuaded that his short sight would have been his destruction in a moment, by bringing him close to a fierce and violent flame”
The concerns were not unfounded as Johnson regularly set fire to the front of his wigs near candles, and had a custom of reading in bed which had led the Thrales to allocate a servant to carry Johnson’s candle for him when he went to sleep. This mitigation did not extend to science experiments: “Future experiments in chemistry, however, were too dangerous, and Mr. Thrale insisted that we should do no more towards finding the Philosopher’s Stone.”
Thrale Place, Streatham
Electricity
Johnson defines electricity in his Dictionary as: “A property in some bodies, whereby, when rubbed so as to grow warm, they draw little bits of paper, or such like substances, to them”, quoting medical writer John Quincy. However, the definition goes on to discuss the subject in a more journalistic way, showing excitement in the subject and suggesting Johnson’s own interest, as no further source is quoted. During Johnson’s age, experiments in how electricity might be used were underway, but often only as tricks and spectacles for the viewing public. In 1751 Benjamin Franklin published his ‘Experiments and Observations on Electricity’ and developed the lightning rod. Johnson also shows knowledge of the medical application of electricity, reassuring relatives of an ill friend that they “should not despair of helping the swelled hand by electricity, if it were frequently and diligently supplied.”
Johnson’s definition of Electricity in his 1755 Dictionary
Ballooning
Ballooning for travel began at the very end of Johnson’s life. 19th September 1783 saw the first balloon flight when Pilatre de Rozier’s ‘Aerostat Reveillon’ took to the sky in France with a sheep,
The first balloon flight with human passengers occurred two months later when Etienne and Joseph Montgolfier launched their balloon from the centre of Paris.
In England, Vincenzo Lunardi flew a hydrogen balloon on 15th September 1784 at an Artillery Ground in London, accompanied by a dog, a cat and a caged pigeon. Johnson paid a subscription for Lunardi’s balloon, and his circle was fascinated by ballooning. Samuel Johnson was in Lichfield at the time of the flight, but he received numerous letters about it from his friends. However, he complained that he had ‘three letters this day, all about the balloon, I could have been content with one’ and that ‘since it has been performed, and the event is known, I had rather now find a medicine that can ease an asthma.’ Shortly afterwards, when James Sadler flew from Oxford on 17 November 1784 Johnson was in the city, but so ill that he sent Francis Barber to see the flight on his behalf.
By the time of the French Revolution, balloons were being used by the military. Samuel Johnson saw the potential for flying machines to be used in warfare, which he echoed in his novel ‘Rasselas’.
A representation of a balloon flight by Lunardi
Johnson and Industry
Johnson’s lifetime saw a huge amount of technological change, the heart of which was his home region of the Midlands. In his later life Johnson travelled regularly and made a point of visiting manufactories, mines and mills. He was a member of the The Royal Society for Arts, Manufactures and Commerce and his writings, letters and diaries include regular mentions of the specifics of manufacturing processes that he had observed. He writes proudly of the progress of the canals in Derbyshire, and visits ceramic manufacturers. Throughout the 1740s and 1750s, Johnson was also instrumental in attempts to improve cotton manufacturing by supporting the invention of distant family member from the Lichfield area, James Wyatt . The website Revolutionary Players is an excellent hub for information on Johnson’s links to the Midlands enlightenment.
In this behind-the-scenes blog post, Museum Attendant Sarah Dale has been inspired by donations to our Museum Bookshop to find out more about the history of the bookmark
Our second hand book shop is very much part of our offer at the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum, and we are grateful to all the people who donate books for us to sell. Second hand books are often more interesting than new books, because they have a history of ownership which may be shown by hand written inscriptions, book plates or library stamps. Another literal marker of where their readers have been is the bookmark which may sometimes be left between the pages.
Bookmarks (or markers, as they were first called) have a long and interesting history. The earliest bookmark so far identified dates from the 6th century and was found attached to the cover of a Coptic manuscript excavated from a ruined monastery near Sakkara in Egypt. This particular bookmark was made of ornamented leather lined with vellum and was linked to the book itself with a leather strap. Given the great expense in terms of labour and materials that a hand written book represents it’s probably not surprising that it was thought worthwhile to include a bookmark as part of the package – turning over the corner of a page to mark your place would not have been received well by the librarian!
We’re lucky at the museum that we haven’t so far experienced some of the more unlikely items used as bookmarks that librarians report coming across, including banana skins and bacon rashers. Paper money, letters and photos (some compromising) are fairly common. In January 2020 the University of Liverpool Library posted a photo of a slice of cheese in a plastic wrapper that had been found in a book
Of course, as this is the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum, almost the first thing we thought of doing was to look in Johnson’s dictionary to see how he defined bookmark (or marker) but the only definitions he gives for marker are:
The reason for this (apart from the consideration that English has a very large vocabulary and quite a few words are missing) may partly be that the bookmark didn’t exist as an item separate from a book until the mid-19th century. Johnson had, thanks to his father’s trade as a bookbinder, considerable technical knowledge on how to actually make a book. This doesn’t seem to have made him particularly careful about how he used books, and Boswell records anecdotes from people who lent him their books and found to their displeasure that he had spilled food or tea on them. It’s also recorded that he used books as coasters, doorstops and to prop up uneven furniture. Because Johnson was blind in one eye, and apparently short sighted in the other, he could only read by holding a book very close to his face, sometimes bending the covers right back and cracking the spine. This reputation for rough treatment of books was probably the reason that Garrick refused to lend Johnson his folio edition of Shakespeare.
As bookmarks began to be made as separate items they became collectors’ items in their own right. In the 1860s machine-woven markers were popular and made to commemorate a wide range of public events, one of the first being to mark the death of Albert, the Prince Consort. Only 20 years later this fashion had passed its peak and bookmarks printed on stiff paper became more common, mirroring the fact that books themselves were becoming cheaper and more generally available.
In the 19th century it was also possible to buy multi-purpose bookmarks that also served as paperknives – an interesting wooden example is the bottom item in this picture. The really gadget-conscious Victorian could have purchased a silver patented combination bookmarker, leaf holder and paperknife with a rotating outer silver blade which could hold the leaves of a book open while it was being read. (Source: https://www.collectorsweekly.com/articles/the-mystery-of-the-phantom-page-turner/)
There are a number of organisations for people who collect bookmarks, including the International Friends of Book Marks, the Leather Bookmark Club and the Bookmark Collectors Club. Collectors often like to specialise in highly specific areas and these organisations enable networks of collectors to swap specimens at very little cost. Indeed, there is a huge supply of free bookmarks which are often used by organisations as a cheap and effective way of promoting events and services and as bookmarks are relatively small and easy to store book mark collecting could well prove to be a hobby that is both convenient and of genuine interest in tracking social trends and developments.
This bookmarkencourages readers to give feedback on the book and take part in a literary conversation.This is a fun example of a book mark made to appeal to a child with a clever designSome bookmarks are too precious to donate. Monkey was a souvenir from London Zoo and is a faithful bookmark to one of our team!Here is a leather bookmark with gold tooling,bought by someone as a souvenir of a trip to Harrods. We put it in this book as they seemed to go together!Here’s a bookmark that has gone on a circular journey – having started off from the museum book shop some years ago it has finally made its way back home, and is now about to set off on its travels again!
As International Women’s Month draws to a close, we celebrate some of the women writers represented in the Birthplace Museum library collection in this month’s blog post.
Johnson’s Birthplace holds strong collections of material relating to Hester Thrale, which we introduce in this previous blog post, and also the poet Anna Seward, including around 100 manuscript letters. In this Month’s post we browse the bookshelves of the Museum library to share some works by or relating to other women writers of the century.
Sarah Siddons (left) and Fanny Burney (right)
Sarah Siddons
One of the greatest actresses of the 18th century, Siddons was famed for her performance in tragedies. Born in 1755, Siddons came from a performing family and eventually triumphed on the stage from the 1780s. Siddons’s circle included Joshua Reynolds and acquaintances of Johnson. Johnson met Siddons in 1783 and during their meeting Siddons promised to act his favourite tragic character, Queen Catherine in Shakepeare’s King Henry the Eighth. Sadly Siddons did not have an opportunity to do before Johnson’s death.
The Birthplace manuscript collection holds a charming ‘thank you’ note from the great actress to Lichfield-based poet Anna Seward, sent in 1796.
It reads:
My dear Madam
I am scarcely recovered enough from a long illness to hold my pen but cannot longer delay my grateful acknowledgements for the honour you have done by sending me your beautiful poems. I have only strength to add that no lady can be more deeply sensible of such an attention than
my dear Miss Seward
Your and obliged,
S Siddons.
Sarah Siddons to Anna Seward, 1796
Letter from Sarah Siddons to Anna Seward, 1796
The library shelves contain an interesting adaptation of John Milton’s Paradise Lost by Siddons. She had seven children, sadly five of whom she outlived, and wrote the adaptation for her own family, explaining in the introduction it was planned to ” afford occupation and amusement for four evenings”. The adaptation was published in 1822. Sarah Siddon’s own memoirs are also in the library, published in the year of her death, 1731.
Fanny Burney
The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties was Fanny Burney’s last novel, published in 1814. Written over fourteen years, partly while Burney was in exile in France, the first edition of 3,00 copies sold out. The historical novel follows a group fleeing the Terror and tells the story of Juliet Granville and the challenges faced by independent women in the 18th century.
Burney, Later Madame d’Arblay, was born in 1752 and her first novel Evelina appeared in 1778 to great applause. Johnson met Burney through Hester Thrale and Burney described Johnson as ‘The First (man) of every Kingdom’. She lived a long life and her journals are an important source for understanding 18th and early !9th century life and women’s experiences. Burney died in Bath in 1840. A memorial to her was established in Poet’s corner in Westminster Abbey in 2002.
Charlotte Lennox
Charlotte Ramsay was born approximately 1729 in Gibraltar to Scottish and Irish Parents. By 1747 she was in London and published her first literary work ‘Poems on Several Occasions’. The same year she married Alexander Lennox, an employee of the printer William Strahan. Charlotte Lennox was initially also an actress, meaning that she had her own income when she married, but she moved towards an exclusively literary career. She performed at Drury Lane in the 1750s, and went on to have her own play performed there in the 1770s. Over the decades Lennox published novels, poems, plays and translations, and wrote for the periodical ‘The Lady’s Museum’.
Her most significant work was ‘The Female Quixote, or, the Adventures of Arabella’ published in 1752. The novel was an inversion of ‘Don Quixote’, Cervantes’s famous 17th century parody of chivalric romances. Another significant work by Lennox was her ‘Shakespear Illustrated’ (1753-54), which was a pioneering attempt to explore the sources used by Shakespeare for his plays and an important early work of feminist literary criticism.
Lennox met Samuel Johnson after her first novel ‘Harriot Stuart’ was published in 1750 and they became lifelong friends. Johnson supported his friend by providing the dedication to the Earl of Middlesex for the ‘Female Quixote’, and to the Earl of Orrery in ‘Shakespear Illustrated’. A great advocate of Lennox, Johnson also sent reviews of several of her works to the Literary Magazine and helped to draft proposals for an edition of her works in 1775.
Unfortunately, critical success did not lead to financial success within her lifetime and Lennox’s later years were spent in poverty, with assistance from a pension from the Royal Literary Fund. She died in 1804 and was buried in an unmarked grave in Covent Garden, London.
Susanna Centlivre
Susanna Centlivre was the most celebrated female playwright of her period. The Busy Body (or ‘Busie Body’) was first performed in 1709 at Drury Lane. This copy of the play from 1777 shows the lasting impact of the work, which was performed a recorded 475 times in the eighteenth century but likely many more. The essayist William Hazlitt described how the Busy Body had been performed “a thousand times in town and country, giving delight to the old, the young, and the middle aged.”
Susanna Freeman was baptized in 1669 in Lincolnshire and, following a career as an actress and a married ended by her husband’s death in a duel, she eventually made her way to London. Susanna had written since childhood but became a professional writer when her first published work appeared in 1701 under the pseudonym ‘Astraea’. She had a prolific and well-respected career, with nineteen plays, three volumes of letters and numerous poems appearing. Susanna married a Joseph Centlivre, a cook in Queen Anne’s court, after meeting him while she was performing at Windsor Castle in 1707. She died in 1723 and her death was widely reported.
Anna Letitia Barbauld
Anna Letitia Barbauld (born Aikin) was born in 1743 in Leicestershire and had a long career as an editor, literary critic as well as a poet, essayist, author of children’s literature, and an abolitionist. As well as writing, Barbauld was a teacher and manager of the Palgrave Academy in Suffolk, where she taught with her husband in the 1770s.
Barbauld was one the of most significant literary critics of her period. Amongst her many works was a six-volume edition of the edited letters of the novelist Samuel Richardson, which included a detailed biographical introduction written by her that represents the first major biography of the writer. She later went on to produce a 50 volume series of British Novelists. Barbauld died in 1804 in Stoke Newington, London.
Hannah More
Writer of poetry, plays and tracts on moral and religious subjects, Hannah More was born in Bristol in 1745. Being the daughter of a schoolmaster provided More with access to education from an early age and she became a teacher. She began writing as a child and penned her first plays while teaching. More was an acquaintance of David and Eva Maria Garrick, and her tragedy play ‘Percy’ was staged at Drury Lane in 1777.
Samuel Johnson met Hannah More in 1774 and had a great respect for her work, telling Hester Thrale that her ‘Bas Bleau’ was “a very great performance”. More and Johnson travelled to Oxford together for a visit to Pembroke College in 1782. Hannah More died in 1833 and her memoir and correspondence was published the following year.
2022 will see some small but important changes at Johnson’s Birthplace. This year, new displays in Michael Johnson’s Workroom will recreate an 18th century book bindery and share more information about the Johnson family business. We’ll also be adding visitor toilet facilities in our yard.
In this month’s blog post, we share images from the Museum’s photograph archive which chart some of the changes to Johnson’s Birthplace over the centuries
A shop front on Breadmarket Street
Image reproduced with thanks to Peter Langmaid
Thomas Clarke occupied the house from 1841 and ran his Drapers business on the ground floor. It was this very different frontage on Breadmarket Street which Charles Dickens would have seen on his visit to Lichfield – you can read about his visit in this blog post. The shop front was removed and the famous frontage of pillars and steps restored after 1887, when the house was purchased by philanthropist James Henry Johnson (no relation to Samuel)
When the Museum was given to the city in 1900, the committee set about on further work to restore the shop, removing floral wallpaper and changing the Market Street windows which you can read more about in our blog post here.
Changes in the 1960s
Some of our visitors still recall coming to Johnson’s Birthplace before significant changes were made at the end of the 1960s. Visitors entered into a hallway in the years before the Parlour wall was removed and a staircase was added to enable access to the basement floor of the building.
The Parlour prior to 1969, looking towards the bookshop
The main focus of the 1960s work was opening up access to the attic floor, now one of the most striking areas of the house. Dormer windows were reinstated on the roof as part of the works, which were carried out by the well-known Lichfield firm Linfords.
A worker on the Birthplace roof during the late 1960s renovationsA view of the attic during renovations in 1969The Linfords team at work in the atticThe 1960s work allowed visitors to view the attic floor of Johnson’s Birthplace, now a favourite part of the house
While working in the attic an interesting collection of items came to light. No missing literary gems from Samuel Johnson, but the scraps of paper give an insight into the life of the house – from pieces of magazines from 1721 which Michael Johnson’s apprentices may well have been reading in their rooms, to correspondence with Mr Hinde, the editor of the Lichfield Mercury in the 19th century, and an advertisement for the Lichfield Races.
Scraps found in the attic in the 1969 worksThe collection has been added to the Museum archive, as part of the story of our building
In addition to the parlour work and the opening of the attic, the basement was turned into an archive area in the 1960s, which later became the kitchen display.
A view of the basement during the 1960s worksThe Basement kitchen when it was opened as a display after the 1989 refurbishments. Currently closed to assist social distancing, the kitchen will reopen to visitors for summer 2022.
Displaying the Collection
In the 1910s, the Birth Room contained the majority of the Museum’s collection in a huge display case, and the top floors of the house were not yet open to the public.
The Birth Room in the early years of the Museum
The Birth Room looked very different after the 1960s renovations. Part of the original part of the cabinets were still in use in the room which is now our Bookshop until the 1980s.
The Birthroom as it appeared before the current Museum layout was established in 1989The Bookshop in the 1980s. Boswell’s Bookcase, now in the Museum attic, can be seen in the back corner of the room.
Our plans for 2022
In 2022 we’ll be adding a toilet block in our yard. Designed to have the lowest possible impact on our historic surrounding, the free-standing structure will also be clad using recycled materials.
A toilet ‘pod’ will be added in the Birthplace courtyardAn impression of the new workshop room, coming in 2022.
Access to the facilities will through the back door of the Museum in Michael Johnson’s workroom, which will have a new layout and become an interactive book bindery. The changes are the first step in developments to improve access and refresh displays at Johnson’s Birthplace, and you can read more about our plans on our website here. Ahead of these works, a full rewire of the Birthplace was undertaken in Autumn 2021 to ensure the future safety of the building – and yes, we did look out for treasures under the floorboards!
Items found under the floorboards in 2021, tell a history of their own
Samuel Johnson was born in September 1709 on Breadmarket Street in Lichfield. His home provided his first school, at “his mother’s knee.” Sarah Johnson taught her son to read. Samuel recalls that she also taught him about “the future state” where there were two places, “one a fine place filled with happiness called Heaven and the other a sad place called Hell”. Johnson would have been about three at the time.
Growing up in a bookshop, Johnson was surrounded by literature and opportunities to learn.
At four years old Johnson went to a Dame school, around the corner from his home in Dam Street. The school was run by Ann Oliver.
The site of Ann Oliver’s Dame School on Dam Street in Lichfield
Dame Schools were small and informal, privately run, classrooms. At this time there was no compulsory education and the number of children receiving any formal kind of education was limited. The aristocratic and wealthy were taught at home by tutors and governesses. The Public Schools, old foundations dating back to the middle-ages, were too expensive for most people. For children from seven onwards fee-paying grammar schools might have been available, founded by public spirited people such as wealthy merchants. Run as businesses, these schools were dependent on the fees and their power to attract customers so did not always survive long. There were also Charity Schools. In 1699 the Society for the propagation of Christian Knowledge was founded. Its stated aim was to bring the knowledge of Christianity to the people, to which end it founded schools for poor children from ages of 7-11. These schools provided a basic Christian education and trained teachers for the job. As a member of the middling-classes, the son of traders, Johnson attended Dame Schools and Grammar Schools.
Johnson’s own writings about his Dame school days did not survive, but he recalls in conversation with Boswell that Oliver could read the ‘Black Letter’, an antiquated style of typography generally used in Germanic texts, often on ecclesiastical subjects. He also remembers being given a present of gingerbread by Ann Oliver when he eventually left Lichfield to go up to Oxford University, and was told he was “the best scholar she ever had”
Johnson attended two Dame schools, the other when he was about six years old which was run by a Tom Browne. Browne was a shoemaker who supplemented his earnings running a school. Johnson recalls that Browne also published a spelling book.
Around January 1717 Johnson entered Lichfield Grammar School. It was at Lichfield Grammar School that Johnson’s excellent knowledge of Latin was developed. He learned first under Hawkins, undermaster of the school, for two years and was then taught by John Hunter, head-master and father of the Poet Anna Seward. Hunter was described by Johnson as “very severe, and wrong-headedly severe”, but Johnson did later attribute his accuracy in Latin to Hunter’s strict methods.
View of an 18th century Grammar School classroom. Different ages were often taught in the same room Source: Wikimedia Commons
Johnson’s annals provide a wealth of detail about his time at the school. There were eleven students in the class. In the under-school, Aesop’s Fables were learned by heart on a Thursday night and repeated on a Friday morning. Examinations took place on Saturday mornings. Texts were almost exclusively in Latin. Books consulted included Lily’s Grammar, which had been a significant source for Shakespeare. Johnson found examinations easy, and remembered school “with pleasure.”
View of Lichfield Grammar School, from the Birthplace Museum Collection
Johnson’s school-friend Edmund described his years of learning beside Samuel to James Boswell. Hector remembered that he “never knew him corrected at school, but for talking and diverting other boys from their business.” He was an intuitive learner but his life-long tendency for idleness and procrastination were apparent as a child, however “whenever he made an exertion he did more than anyone else.” Samuel had an extraordinary memory: Hector recalls reciting 18 verses of a poem to him, which he repeated back exactly.
Due to Johnson’s poor eyesight, he did not join in the play of the other children apart from during the winter when he enjoyed being pulled around on the ice. He was also often carried from home to school by three of his school friends.
The statue of Samuel Johnson on Lichfield Market Square includes a relief showing Johnson carried home from school by his friends.
Johnson attended two Grammar Schools. In 1726 he enrolled at Stourbridge Grammar School while staying with his uncle, Cornelius Ford. Johnson’s education in Lichfield had already given him such a good grounding that he acted as an assistant to master Mr Wentworth and helped to teach younger boys.
Photograph of Stourbridge Grammar School (right), from the Birthplace Museum Collection.Written around 1726, probably while at Stourbridge Grammar School, this is one of the earliest examples of Johnson’s handwriting. Birthplace Museum Collection
Johnson said of his two schools: “At one, I learnt much from the school, but little from the master; in the other, I learnt much from the master, but little in the school”.
He reflects more broadly on the passing of school days:
“The time… appeared much longer by the multitude of novelties that it supplied, and of incidents, then in my thoughts important, it produced. Perhaps it is not possible that any other period can make the same impression on the memory”
Samuel Johnson
January 24th marks the International Day of Education, a United Nations day of observance which celebrates education and draws attention to the importance of inclusive and equitable education and lifelong opportunities for all. Find out more at: https://www.un.org/en/observances/education-day.
Many thanks to Annemarie Powell, Birthplace Volunteer and inspiring educator, for her work on this blog post.
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