West Coast Obstetrician Discovers Bible Illustrated by David Roberts

034

My profession is medicine, but my passion is Egyptology. Whenever I travel, I visit museums and used-book stores. So it was that I found myself in a modest little bookshop in Seattle. “I do have something that’s sort of on Egypt,” the proprietor told me. “It’s a Bible, but I haven’t been able to learn much about it. It has some great lithographs in it.”

Indeed, it did—32 prints and six maps. The prints were by David Roberts, the 19th-century illustrator who painted what are probably the most popular pictures of the Holy land of all times. We struck a deal, and I started the search for more information.

As Roberts’ work was and is of such enormous popularity, I thought it would not be too difficult to 035obtain information about the publication of this Bible. I was wrong. I could not locate a copy in any major American library. The New York Public Library did not have a copy. Neither did the Library of Congress.

Nor does the catalogue of the British and Foreign Bible Society’s Library list this Bible. However, since the society is concerned with the text rather than the illustrations, it has not attempted to record every publisher of the essentially unchanged text the Authorized (King James) Version during 19th century.

Turning to publications about Roberts, I could find no mention of a Roberts-illustrated Bible.

I corresponded with and later met Roberts’ biographer, Helen Guiterman. At first, she indicated she had no knowledge of a Roberts-illustrated Bible. Later, she said she had a vague recollection of once having seen one.

There is no mention of it, however, in any Roberts’ correspondence or journals, Ms. Guiterman checked the inventory of Roberts’ personal library and found that even he did not have copy.^a

While in England, I also went to the famed British Library. In the catalogue I discovered a card for a Roberts-illustrated Bible, although with a later publication date.

I sat in the library’s imposing reading room waiting for the slightly phlegmatic librarian to bring me this rare book. When it finally arrived the previously jaundiced man began reading with an interest equal to mine. This turned to near shock when he saw that the copy I had picked up in a secondhand Seattle bookshop was published a year earlier than the British Library’s copy. My 1859 edition was published by William Collins. The British Library’s copy was published in 1860 by Richard Griffin. Alas, to the librarian’s chagrin, my Collins edition was not represented in that ultimate of libraries.

The British Library’s 1860 Griffin edition did contain something my edition did not—the advertisement that accompanied each of the 20 parts bound together to form the complete volume, was the meticulous fashion of the library: “Family Bibles have usually been illustrated,” the ad announced, “by engravings from pictures by the Old Masters. However valuable these may be as works of art—however pleasing to the eye—to the scripture student, they are from their conventionality and incorrectness, valueless.”

This Bible published by Richard Griffin and Company, publishers of the University of Glasgow, was one of the first editions of the Holy Bible illustrated with “correct views of the localities hallowed by the great scenes in the Holy Writ.” Furthermore, as the publisher claimed, he was indeed “fortunate in securing for this purpose the valuable sketches of David Roberts in the Holy Land.”

David Roberts (1796–1864) was the son of a poor Scottish shoemaker. As a boy, he was apprenticed to a housepainter-decorator. In the early 19th century, the plaster walls of upper-class homes were often painted to simulate marble, various wood panelings 036and similar effects. This experience enhanced Roberts’ natural talent and prepared him for the next phase of his career.

From 1816 to 1830 Roberts painted theatrical scenery. While no examples of this work survive there is ample testimony to its high quality. Moreover, Roberts could produce in a day or two a scenic backdrop that took ordinary painters a month. This experience not only heightened his prowess, but gave him an extraordinary insight into dramatic effects.

As his skills, confidence and recognition increased, Roberts shifted to landscape and architectural painting. In 1832 he made a tour of Spain. At that time, this was quite an adventure for an Englishman. From this trip, he produced numerous paintings and a series of lithographs that gained him acclaim. In less than two months he sold 1,200 sets.

Emboldened by this success, Roberts determined to visit Egypt and the Holy Land. He read everything he could, talked with travelers who had been there and in August 1838 set sail for Alexandria. He rented a boat with crew and traveled the length of the Nile up to Abu Simbel, sketching every major monument on the way. In February of 1839 with a tribe of about 100 Bedouin he headed off by camel to Mt. St. Catherine and the famed monastery at the foot of Mt. Sinai. He crossed the Red Sea to Aqaba then went on to Hebron via Petra. Plague had been raging in Jerusalem, but a year-long quarantine was lifted on the very day he arrived. He toured the Holy Land until late June 1839 and then returned home via Egypt.

Roberts kept a journal of his trip which provides fascinating insights into the area, the politics of the day and into himself. He noted, “I am the first Artist at least from England that has yet been here.” 037Unburdened by false modesty, he went on to state that he was returning with “one of the richest folios that ever left the East.” He was right.

The Holy Land, Syria, Idumea, Arabia, Egypt and Nubia From Drawings Made On the Spot by David Roberts RA was a spectacular success. Historical commentary on the Holy Land was provided by the Rev. George Croly and on Egypt by William Brockedon.

The lithographer, Louis Haghe, a superb technician, produced all 248 plates for this volume. The Holy Land portion was issued between 1842 and 1845; the Egyptian section was published between 1846 and 1849.

A large folio “subscription” edition was produced with all plates printed separately, water colored and tipped in on the pages. A lower-cost, large folio edition was issued with the plates printed directly on the pages and tinted in one to three shades. The fidelity of the lithographs to the original paintings is all the more remarkable because Haghe, the lithographer, lost the use of his right arm in a birth injury. He did all the lithographs with only one hand.

The artistic and technical qualities of these prints were instantly acclaimed. Over a century later they were declared “the apotheosis of the tinted lithography” and vastly preferred to “the caricatured fidelity of the frightful photograph.”¹

The criticism of photographs is understandable because even the primitive examples from this period were merciless in portraying the flaws, the 038decay and the garbage that surrounded the ancient monuments. Roberts, however, was free to portray “the verity,” and with his flair for drama, he exercised artistic license freely. While his views as a whole are remarkably accurate, he was not averse to cleaning up the scene, occasionally restoring parts of the architecture and even relocating the Sphinx to achieve his desired dramatic effect.

Roberts was a devout Presbyterian who shared the general attitude of the time that the Arabs were a barbarous people. Nevertheless, he viewed the people rather objectively and portrayed them in a compassionate fashion. He often used figures to emphasize the scale of monuments. As a master of landscape and architectural painting, he knew his limitations and did very few paintings of people. In pursuit of an accurate portrayal of Egypt of the time, he donned Arab garb and doffed his shoes in order to be permitted to sketch inside mosques.

Gradually, I pieced together enough information to understand the background of my Roberts-illustrated Bible and even to speculate why so few copies have surfaced. Alan Jesson, the Bible Society’s librarian at Cambridge University Library, explained 039to me that under English law the authorized King James Version of the Bible is held in perpetual copyright by the Crown. During the 19th century there was a tremendous increase in both population and literacy, which stimulated demand for the Bible. For a time, William Collins, the publisher of my Roberts Bible, was one of the “Privileged Presses.” (The text of the Roberts Bible is of course the Authorized Version.) My 1859 edition records a license from the Crown to publish 3,000 copies.

Other publishers found a loophole in the law, however, which allowed unlicensed printing of the Authorized Version if it was accompanied by commentary. The 1860 Griffin edition in the British Library apparently met this exemption because it was also accompanied by the commentaries of Matthew Henry and Thomas Scott, condensed by the Rev. John McFarlane.

As for the Roberts lithographs, the copyright to them was purchased by Sir Francis Graham Moon. Moon was therefore free to publish them as he wished. Ironically, the disparaged technique of photography was utilized in 1855–1856 to produce a quarto edition of The Holy Land. The lithographs in this edition were made by photographic reduction so as to be faithful to the originals. This quarto edition was published by Day & Son, London, as six volumes bound in three with the same historical commentaries.

For the two Bible editions—by Collins in 1859 and Griffin in 1860—Day used the same photographic reduction technique used in his quarto edition of The Holy Land. However, the plates are not quite the same size. The lithographs in the Bibles are equally true to the originals with a similar use of one to three tints, but they are slightly larger than in the quarto edition. Obviously, a new series of lithographs was produced to illustrate the Bibles.

In addition to the 1859 Collins edition and the 1860 Griffin edition of the Roberts-illustrated Bible, I have since seen an 1861 edition, also published by Collins. (It was auctioned by Sotheby’s in London in 1990.) Unlike Collins’ 1859 edition, the 1861 edition does not carry the license from the Crown.

I suspect that the 32 illustrations in both Collins’ editions and in Griffin’s 1860 edition were selected by Griffin because the lithographs in all three editions carry the additional label, “published by Richard Griffin, London & Glasgow.”^b

The illustrations certainly represent interesting choices. Four of them were not taken from The Holy Land. Those rather unexpected choices are Corinth, the Acropolis of Athens, the Forum in Rome, and the Mound of Nimroud at Nineveh. Griffin’s primary sources for these pictures are unknown. A curious aspect of the prints of Corinth, the Forum and the Mound of Nimroud is that they are the only lithographs that are unsigned. They are clearly in Roberts’ style and are accepted as his work by his biographer. The significance of those absent signatures is uncertain. It was the custom of some artists to sign their works only when they were sold. Perhaps that was the case with these, and the signatures were somehow overlooked.

Why have so few copies of the Roberts Bible surfaced? The authorized Collins edition of 1859, after all, ran to 3,000 copies. The precise number of the 1860 Griffin edition and the 1861 Collins edition is not known, but together they must have added another 2,000 to 6,000 copies. If so many copies were printed, why are they such a rarity?

In the mid-19th century, as is true today, the Bible was treated with great respect. It might be well worn, but would rarely be abused or destroyed. Another factor is provided in the advertisement in the Griffin edition, which describes it as “The Practical and Devotional Family Bible.” In addition to the maps and pictures, this Bible contains a Family Register.

The purchase of such a handsome Bible in the mid-19th century would have been an important acquisition for a middle-class family. The family Bible was the unofficial record of marriages, births and deaths. Then, as now, such family Bibles were passed as treasures from generation to generation. Sale or disposal of a such a family heirloom is a rare event. I suspect that most of those published 130 years ago are still scattered throughout Scotland and England among the descendants of the original owners.

So many Bibles printed since 1600 have survived that their commercial value in England is generally low. Bibles that are 200 to 300 years old can be purchased for under $100. In contrast, single folio prints from Roberts’ original subscription edition of The Holy Land typically cost over $1,000. Prints from the standard edition run $500 and up. Even the quarto prints may cost $100 or more. The fortunate owners of the Bibles illustrated by David Roberts may well cherish them equally for text, family heritage and those splendid lithographs—among the first to show the “correct views of the localities hallowed by the great scenes in the Holy Writ.”

My profession is medicine, but my passion is Egyptology. Whenever I travel, I visit museums and used-book stores. So it was that I found myself in a modest little bookshop in Seattle. “I do have something that’s sort of on Egypt,” the proprietor told me. “It’s a Bible, but I haven’t been able to learn much about it. It has some great lithographs in it.” Indeed, it did—32 prints and six maps. The prints were by David Roberts, the 19th-century illustrator who painted what are probably the most popular pictures of the Holy land of all times. We struck […]