Joint tacketing


Books are three dimensional, mechanical structures and as such provide a complex series of problems when these structures deteriorate.

Among the most common areas of damage are the joints and hinges, which bear an enormous amount of stress during opening and closing.

When these fail the boards become loose and can ultimately detach.

Because of their role as a protective case, boards, once detached, render the textblock particularly vulnerable to further physical damage. Bindings are also a decorative feature of a book and the front and back boards are an integral part of this. Information in the form of labels, inscriptions and dates are sometimes found on the pastedown [that part of the board next to the textblock] and their loss too can be highly problematic. Retention and repair are therefore important.

Ideally, the boards would be re-attached by a conservator, but this is a very time-consuming process and as a result many bindings are simply tied together using linen tape. In this way, all the parts are kept together and the detached boards still provide rigidity for the textblock. The sight of linen tape has become a common feature in libraries and is indicative of material highly vulnerable to future loss

some of the tools used


Joint tacketing is a practical process for the re-attachment of detached book boards. It does not pretend to be a full conservation process, but it does allow for the manageable repair of large numbers of bindings.

The other advantage of joint tacketing is its reversibility. It impacts minimally on the look or condition of the original structure.

Not all damaged bindings are suitable for joint tacketing. It does require that the area of repair is robust enough to support a working hinge. If the edges are crumbling or lost then the tackets, or hinges, will pull away the surrounding material causing futher damage and loss.

Through these a thread hinge is tied, the loose ends being feathered out on the inside of the board. It is upon this thread-knot or hinge that the board opens and closes.

The way a joint tacket works is that a very fine hole is drilled in both the spine of the textblock and the corresponding spine of the detached board

These are positioned at
the origianl sewing stations...

...so the new holes follow the existing binding structure

a copper wire loop captures the repair thread...

...captured repair thread


the thread is knotted at the text block spine


the thread tails are then drawn

...from outside the board to its inside

the board is then drawn...

…into alignment with the textblock


the knots are tied off...

...trimmed, feathered and pasted down






References

Robert Espinosa & Pamela Barrios, ‘Joint Tacketing: A Method of Board Reattachment’ in Book and Paper Group Annual, 10 (1991) available on the web

Jane Greenfield, ABC of bookbinding (New Castle DE: Oak Knoll Press, 1998)

Thanks to: Matthew Hatton and Ray Jordan of Trinity College Dublin, for their fabulous workshop on joint tacketing held last year.





October 13th 2011








In the wake of the fifty tall ships which dropped anchor off Waterford …


Ships figure in the Russell Library in books on marine construction, navigation and warfare, in maps as decorative features and images of power, in books on measurement, in travellers’ tales, or with sails full blown, as printers’ devices, heavy with symbolism.


Digges on measuring (1591)


Digges on measuring


A 16th century example is found in a book on measurement by Leonard and Thomas Digges: A geometrical practical treatise named pantometria…containing rules manifolde for mensuration of all lines, superficies and solides: with sundrie strange conclusions…(London, 1591). The pantometer in the title is used for measuring angles and heights. Details are given on measuring the distance of ships at sea, the fullness and emptiness of wine barrels, plotting the path of an underground tunnel (for mines and secret passages), and drawing up plans on the parchment head of a drum, on the battle field. Thomas Digges published the most advanced and novel work on geometry in 16th century England.


Zinzerling’s Grand Tour (1616)


Zinzerling on the Grand Tour


Bordeaux was a major port in the early 17th century. Showing the skyline of a city aided recognition at sea. Justus Zinzerling of Thuringia (1590?-1618) in his Itinerarium Galliae (1616) lays out a series of journeys throughout France to be taken over a period of three and a half years by those who wish to improve their knowledge of the language and culture. His own travels took place from 1612-1616. Using the pseudonym Jodocus Sincerus, he explains that he will take his reader to the best cities for their pronunciation and use of language, and will also indicate people to visit. The book is full of interesting facts and experiences and goes beyond France into England, Belgium, Holland Switzerland and Savoy. Our edition was published in Amsterdam in 1649. The original is in Latin; Claude de Varennes published a French translation in 1641 and a later translation by Thalès Bernard appeared in 1859.


Captain Sturmy’s volvelle (1669)


Captain Sturmy’s volvelle


Samuel Sturmy (1633-69) commanded ships sailing mainly from Bristol to Virginia and the West Indies. He became a leading figure in Bristol and was known in scientific circles: the Royal Society published his observations on magnetic variation in 1668. His Mariners magazine was published in 1669 and is a compendium of every aspect of seamanship a mariner might need to know. He covers the art of navigation, the surveying of land, the art of gunnery, fireworks for sea and land service and recreation and delight, astronomy, dialling and fortification. His instructions for managing the sails in a rising storm were invaluable to Swift when writing Gulliver’s Travels. Illustrated here is one of several working instruments mounted in the book: made from layered cut-out dials linked together by a small disc of parchment, top and bottom, joined by knotted string. Simple and effective. These are known as volvelles. The hand-written calculations on the page suggest this copy of the book did indeed go to sea.


The ship of state (1619)


The ship of state – a 17th century Parisian device


This engraving of a ship in full sail was used as a mark of identification by a group of printers in Paris known as the Compagnie de Navire. The Company was first established in 1585, by Philippe Hurault, comte de Cheverny, Lord Chancellor of France. It brought together leading printers with the aim of printing major liturgical and patristic writings in high-quality scholarly editions for the international market. It was a project backed by the King and the University of Paris. There are different versions of the engraving. This one carries the arms of the King of France, and on the mastheads, the initials of printers Michael, Laurent and Jean (Iohannes) Sonnius, and Jérome (Hieronymus) Drouart. There is no doubting its origins with the patterning of fleurs de lys. Lutetia or Lutetia Parisiorum is the Latin name for Paris. This engraving appears on the title page of the Opera or works of St John Damascene, in Greek and Latin, printed by the Company in 1619.





August 11th 2011




Rev. Desmond Forristal: A literary life

March 2nd 2011




Portrait of Rev. Desmond Forristal


The Desmond Forristal Archive was donated to the Library in 2001, and provides an intimate view of the life and work of Rev. Forristal in the latter half of the twentieth century. Forristal is known for his work as a scholar, author, playwright, and TV producer.



Presentation Primary School, George’s Hill in Dublin, 1963


Desmond Forristal was born in Dublin on 25 September 1930 and was educated at O’Connell School and Belvedere College. He went on to study Philosophy at University College Dublin (1948-1951) and then Theology at Holy Cross College, where he was ordained into the priesthood in 1955. Forristal was awarded an MA degree in Philosophy from University College Dublin in 1956. He served in several Dublin-based parishes, including Palmerstown, Halston Street, Bray, Iona Road, and Dalkey, and was elected to the Dublin Diocesan Council of Priests in 1969.


Forristal studied film and television in New York in 1959, and on his return to Ireland he assisted Fr. Joseph Dunn in establishing the Radharc film unit. Working as a director and scriptwriter, Forristal’s work on Radharc productions brought him to Europe, America, Africa and the Far East. Radharc, meaning ‘view’ or ‘vision’, was a series of films about Ireland written and presented from a religious perspective. The Radharc team made their first production in 1960 in Donegal, a short film about customs relating to St Brigid's Day. Over four hundred films broadcast in Ireland and in locations around the world were to follow, with the series coming to an end in 1996.


Forristal’s first play, The True Story of the Horrid Popish Plot, was performed at the Gate Theatre as part of the 1972 Dublin Theatre Festival. A Hilton Edwards production, the historical drama addresses the lives of Oliver Plunkett and seventeenth century perjurer Titus Oates who fabricated a supposed Catholic conspiracy to kill King Charles II. His second play entitled Black Man’s Country was performed in the same theatre in 1974, and was based on the author’s visit to Biafra in Southern Nigeria in 1968 whilst making a documentary about the Civil War. The Seventh Sin, another play, was first performed at the Gate in 1976 and focuses on the election of hermit Peter of Murrone as pope (Celestine V) in the thirteenth century, and his subsequent abdication and death. Again, the production was directed by Hilton Edwards.


Forristal’s next production was for television, a play entitled Enquiry at Knock (1979). This play was based on the testimony of witnesses for the evidence of the miraculous appearance of Mary at Knock. Returning to the stage that same year, Forristal’s next dramatic effort was the play Captive Audience, which concerns the relationship between a young girl who is in the Charismatic Movement and her de-programmer. The Crozier and the Crown, a religious drama based on the life of St. Laurence O’Toole, was performed in 1988.


Forristal is also known for his literary work. He has written several books on historical and religious subjects, including Oliver Plunkett (1975), Maximilian of Auschwitz (1982), The Bridge at Lo Wu (1987), The Man in the Middle (1988), The Second Burial of Bishop Shanahan (1990), and Edel Quinn 1907-1944 (1994). In addition, he has contributed articles to a number of journals, and was drama critic for ‘The Furrow’, a diocesan magazine, for many years.



Selection of documents from the Forristal Archive



The Desmond Forristal Archive consists of a wide range of document types, including letters, scripts, essays, research notebooks, photographs and newspaper clippings. Forristal’s close ties with Dublin’s thriving theatre scene are revealed in a letter contained in the archive from actor, writer, and director Hilton Edwards, dated 15 March 1978. The letter, addressed to Forristal, was written by Edwards on the death of his partner and co-founder of the Gate Theatre, Micheál MacLiammóir.


‘You and I worked together – and I hope we will again – but nothing we can do can reach the artistry, if I may use that word in this sense, of the work you have just done. The rightness of the services, both unsurpassable in their simplicity and beauty gave me much comfort, and I know, has given Micheal peace. Thank you again for administering the last rites to him in hospital.’ (PP/1/55A).


This important collection provides researchers with a fascinating overview of Forristal’s life and work, and reflects his movements in both religious and literary circles in Ireland during the latter half of the twentieth century.



Lord Morpeth’s Roll: A pre-famine census in the Russell Library

January 27th 2011


The conservation team is participating in a project involving the Russell Library, the History Department NUIM, Castle Howard in Yorkshire and Ancestry.com.


The Morpeth Testimonial Roll, wrapped around a gigantic bobbin, measures 412 metres in length and contains around 250,000 signatures gathered from across the whole of Ireland. It arrived in the Russell Library in 2009, when our role in the project officially began.



Created in 1841 at the instigation of the Duke of Leinster, Daniel O' Connell and others, this remarkable document marks the occasion of Lord Morpeth departing from his political office in Ireland.


The roll consists of 652 sheets of paper which were either signed in Dublin or sent out to the counties of Ireland for signing, and returned to Dublin for assembly. This remarkable feat was undertaken in the space of a month; from collecting the signatures to compiling the roll to constructing the wooden bobbin and chest.


Some of the sheets still bear their postage stamps and franks, which are secondary additions of great historical importance as printed stamps were only introduced in 1840.


This photograph shows one of the sheets sent in the post


It was sent from Bailyboro, Co. Cavan to Dublin and shows both the old franking system and the new postage stamps. Postage stamps were used for the first time in May of 1840 when the penny black was introduced. In September 1841 this sheet was posted with 2d blues. Note that the stamps had to be cut with a scissors. It would be 12 years before Henry Archer invented the stamp perforating machine.




An Irish hand amongst the signatures




The address was written out by T.M. Ray

and is both signed and dated within the flourishes of words ‘My Lord’


The sheets are joined by glued paper strips, tail to head, originally creating a continuous length of paper which was subsequently rolled onto a wooden spool.


The vast majority of the paper used is of good quality and retains much of its original flexibility. There are, however, a small number of fragile, chemically unstable, sheets.


The glue used to join the individual sheets has caused staining where it has been applied, though again, not universally. A small number of sheets exhibit staining across the entire surface despite otherwise being of good quality. Paper length and width are not uniform, nor are the weights of individual sheets. All these variables and complexities render the roll vulnerable to damage and degradation. Our role in this project is to facilitate an understanding of the physical object which will complement both research and the future curatorial care of the object itself.


The first two sheets boast an elaborately written address which opens with:


To The Right Honourable Lord Viscount Morpeth: The Address of the Nobility, Gentry, Clergy, Merchants, Traders & People of Ireland



First Leaf of Address Before and After Treatment


Only during cleaning of the first sheet were gold embellishments to the title revealed, a glimpse into how lavish those first pages were. Undertaking edge repair and infilling of missing portions of the original sheet protects it from further damage and this combination of investigation, understanding and care are key to our conservation approach.





A new acquisition! The teetotaler’s catechism

In the midst of dire poverty, the people of Ireland in the mid-1830s were drinking more than 12 million gallons a year of legal spirits alone. It was an appalling problem. Avoiding the usual chilling rhetoric, Theobald Mathew, the Capuchin friar who became known as the Apostle of Temperance, began exhorting people to give up intoxicating liquors, re-assert their dignity and use that money to better their condition. He preached to vast crowds and persuaded thousands at a time to take the pledge.


frontispiece


Matthew Scally, a Carmelite friar from Knocktopher, produced a short twopenny tract in 1846 to encourage the faint-hearted. It is written in the form of a dialogue between a father and his son, with a graphic frontispiece of Theobald Matthew preaching, and the words of the pledge beneath. To clinch matters, there is a personal letter of approbation from Theobald Mathew himself.


title-page

Such tracts are rare for they are too flimsy to survive in normal circumstances. This one has been given an exceptionally fine binding of red goatskin and a gold-tooled centrepiece; even the edges of the boards are decorated in gold.


binding

As indicated on the title-page above, the publisher was William Joseph Battersby, an energetic and innovative Dublin publisher who flourished from the 1830s to the 1850s. He was also an author in his own right and his entire working life was motivated by a passionate interest in the promotion of the Catholic faith. His most enduring contribution has been the Irish Catholic Directory, begun in 1836 as Battersby’s Registry for the Catholic World. He was also the driving force behind the Catholic Book Society which sought to produce cheaper but informative books and make them widely available. As is appropriate for this publication, he was also a teetotaller!


As the Irish balloon championships get under way in Longford…



Olivari’s balloon (1798)



Imagine the impact of the first hot-air balloon rising into the sky in 1783. Suddenly, it was possible to fly! The first living flight was from Versailles in June 1783, with a sheep, a duck and a cock in the car. Four months later the maestro himself, Étienne Montgolfier, rose above the earth in a splendidly decorated balloon. Others across Europe quickly followed suit.



The first manned flight in Ireland was made by Richard Crosbie on 19 January 1785 when he rose up from Ranelagh Gardens in Dublin before a vast crowd. Wind and bad weather affected his departure and he was obliged to land at Clontarf. A poem was published in celebration, The aerial voyage (Dublin, 1785), prefaced by an account of the event.



For the next five years, the hold on the popular imagination was evident. The pamphlets of the time convey the febrile excitement of it all. Farces were in vogue -Frederick Pilon, in his Aerostation (1785), urged with tongue in cheek the need for ‘legislation of the upper regions’, formerly the realm of poets only. There were ‘diverting accounts’ of flights, novels, balloon jests, and songs in the streets and public gardens. There were even silken ‘balloon hats’ covering lofty coiffures.



Serious experiments and advances were reported to the Royal Society. Then, in time of war, balloons became political. Francis Olivari (possibly a pseudonym) in The balloons of Citizen Campenas (Dublin, 1798) took up a suggestion made by a French hydraulic engineer that Napoleon could use balloons for a military invasion. Not to be scoffed at, said Olivari, and carefully calculated that if each were 100 yards in diameter it could carry 500 soldiers with hammocks, baggage, food, canons, arms and ammunition.



A vivid account of an attempt in 1812 to cross the Irish Sea from Belvedere House, Drumcondra, was published by veteran balloonist James Sadler, who was then 59 and had carried out more than 40 flights since his first attempt in Oxford in 1784. In Balloon (Dublin, 1812) he gives a graphic description of swarming up the cords to close a rent that had appeared, and of how finally, he was dragged through the sea before rescue.





Sadler’s Balloon: an authentic narrative (1812)




September 2010