From Far from the Madding Crowd to Back Onto Center Stage

My, what big paws you have…   Cotsen’s beloved tiger now back in residence in his old haunt atop the Wall of Books and ready to greet Cotsen Gallery visitors again.

Life is all about serenity, isn’t it? Comfort, peace of mind, and the chance to hang out the “Do Not Disturb” sign when you want a little down time and R&R…

But sometimes you can have a little too much of a good thing, can’t you?  A little too much quiet, calm, and distance from old friends — or admiring fans, in the case of public figures.

Perhaps this was how the Cotsen Gallery’s peaceable kingdom of stuffed animals and fairy tale figures felt during their year-long vacation from the Cotsen Gallery during the (now completed) renovations of the Gallery and Wall of Books?  All of them usually live on top of and inside the Wall of Books, keeping company with many of the oldest and most notable books in the Cotsen collection (dating from the 15th through the 18th centuries).

Of course there’s no way for mere mortals to know what “inanimate” objects think and feel, but children’s literature is full of stories where dolls, plants, and objects of all sorts have secret inner lives and even adventures.  (For some more info on that fascinating aspect of children’s stories, take a look at “The Secret Lives of Plants” on the Cotsen blog.)

During the renovation work, the animals and books from the Wall of Books lived together in the extremely quiet, calm, and quite secure depths of the Rare Book vaults. But apart from the occasional passer-by staff members paging books for library patrons, this must have been a bit lonely after a while.

“Where did all our visitors and the children go?” —- Cotsen’s “peaceable kingdom” animals in the Rare Books vaults during renovation of the Cotsen Gallery.

No admiring visitors saying “hello,” no undergraduates passing by, and — most important of all — no delighted children coming in to visit, admire you, and sometimes even talk to you. (Providing a space for children to enjoy was a key part of Lloyd Cotsen’s vision for the Cotsen Library, in addition to establishing a rare book collection for use by scholars, researchers, faculty, students, and Princeton classes.)

Madeleine and friends inside the Rare Book vaults. “It’s nice and quiet in here, but we miss all our friends!”

Well, that phase is over now.  After a nice hiatus, all the Cotsen animals and figures are back in their familiar homes — atop the Wall of Books, inside the Wall with the books, and inside the Cotsen curatorial offices.  Tan, rested, and ready, as they say… And eagerly waiting for new visitors and old friends to pay them a visit, as of this coming Monday, April 23.

Cotsen’s bear and sheep back inside the Wall of Books, perhaps getting a quick nap in anticipation of all their visitors?

Cotsen’s bear and sheep back inside the Wall of Books, perhaps getting a quick nap in anticipation of all their visitors?

Why not stop by and say “hello”?  The animals will thank you — in their own quiet way, of course… Wait a second, did I hear a whisper of a talking stuffed animal or a talking horse?

A London Birthday Party in Stephen Jones’ The Oracles (1792)

One of the few eighteenth-century coaches to survive in original condition was this one, which belonged to the Beekman family coach around 1770.

Celebrating a child’s birthday at a social gathering was a late eighteenth-century trend that was rather controversial because it undercut the traditional Christian practice of reflecting on one’s life and choosing goals for the coming year.  Children’s books are an underutilized source for documenting the shift in attitudes towards birthdays and The Oracles, Containing some Particulars of the History of Billy and Kitty Wilson (London: E. Newbery, ca 1792) is a good example of showing a way to strike a balance between religious observance and fashionable entertainments.  It’s not a book that has received much scholarly attention, even though it was illustrated by John Bewick.  The author was probably Stephen Jones (1763-1827), who was Newbery family royalty, being the son of Giles Jones and nephew of Griffith Jones, who are believed to have collaborated with their employer and collaborator John Newbery on some of the firm’s most famous children’s books.

At the beginning of The Oracles, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson are mostly satisfied with the characters of their two children, except for their tendency to assume their judgement is as good as that of their parents.  While the Wilsons may take their responsibilities as parents very seriously, they are not so strict as all that, because on Billy’s seventh birthday, the family goes to London for a day of  sightseeing.  The high point of the day is to be a visit to the famous Speaking Figure, which could answer questions put to it in English, French, German and Italian between noon and nine o’clock in the evening, Monday through Saturday. Here are the Wilsons testing the Speaking Figure’s ability to communicate.  Billy is posing a question to the Figure by speaking into the trumpet inserted into its mouth.

For the Wilson party of four, admission was a shilling per person, which means attendance in the exhibition rooms was not nearly as expensive theater tickets–a single opera ticket would have cost 4 shillings.  But if Mr. Wilson were not sufficiently wealthy to keep his own coach, he also would have had to pay for round-trip transportation from their home in the country to the capital and after the Speaking Figure to their other destination, the Tower Zoo.  Zoo admission was six pence per person.  A meal in a tavern was probably also in order at some point during the outing as well.  Depending upon the family’s annual income,  Billy’s birthday outing may have taken a good portion of the Wilsons’ discretionary income for that month.

This fictional day trip was not the product of Jones’s imagination, but based on a London exhibition that had been on view between 1784 and 1786 and  attracted quite a bit of publicity.  The Frenchman who constructed the Speaking Figure imposed upon the public at major European cities by creating the illusion of conversations between doll and visitor with tubes concealed by the doll’s large feather headdress.  The deception was promptly exposed by Phillip Thicknesse in a pamphlet, which is illustrated with this diagram, showing how the figure operated.

So where does Stephen Jones stand on the question of birthday celebrations?  From one perspective, he tried to have his cake and eat it too.  The Wilsons did not take Billy and Kitty to gawk at the Speaking Figure, but to prepare them to participate in a  plan conceived to correct their most serious fault with minimal intervention from their parents.  Billy and Kitty’s delight in the Speaking Figure is so great that the Wilsons promise to install in the house two speaking figures, who will serve as the children’s personal advisors.

Experiences at home and at school quickly teach Billy and Kitty that their oracles always had their best interests in mind and after a few trials, they trust the oracles so much that they follow the figures’ advice to the letter.  At that point, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson step up and reveal that they have been voicing the so-called oracles from the very beginning, with the result that the children transfer their trust to their parents, where it should have been all along.

Jones was on thin ice here.   He seems to have been leaning towards the approach of French educators like Jean-Jacques Rousseau or Mme de Genlis, who justified the deception of children if the ends of a ruse justified the means.  On the other hand, Jones is also suggesting that a birthday celebration that is both entertaining and improving is appropriate.   It  seems to have been possible for the day to be associated with pleasure as well as reflection and moral growth–at least at some remove from the big day.