In a century not otherwise distinguished for its book design and typography, Charles Whittingham (1785-1876) stands pre-eminent among English printers for his fine typography, presswork, and book decoration. It was Whittingham who reintroduced the use of Caslon Old Face to English printing, and working with publisher William Pickering (1796-1854) he set a standard for bookmaking that few of his contemporaries could achieve. An examination of the bookplate employed by some of Whittington's children to commemorate him may disclose those very qualities inherent in the printer's own work.

            Whittingham began his printing career as apprentice to his uncle Charles Whittingham (1767-1840) and in 1824 joined him in a partnership that lasted until 1828. The older printer (referred to as Uncle to distinguish him from his pupil and namesake, Nephew Whittingham) brought him into contact with the bookseller/publisher William Pickering in 1829. The ensuing friendship and collaboration between Pickering and Nephew produced some of the finest books executed in England during the middle of the nineteenth century until Pickering's death in 1854. Nephew Whittingham himself retired in 1860, but his Chiswick Press continued to flourish under various proprietors until well into this century.

            Each of Whittingham's five children worked at the press, and in 1865 daughter Charlotte married Vermont-born bookseller Benjamin Franklin Stevens, who spent his adult life in England. As Whittingham's children grew older and played a lesser role in the printing enterprise, they decided to find a home for the library of early printed books that their father, the Nephew, had accumulated during his successful decades at the Chiswick Press. In 1899 (no doubt at the urging of Benjamin Franklin Stevens) they settled upon the University of Vermont as its repository.

            Accompanying the gift of some 2,800 books, including about 2,000 Chiswick Press imprints, were bookplates for each surviving member of the family. The three bookplates, probably designed by Charlotte Whittingham Stevens, are identical except for the name of each particular family member: Charlotte Whittingham Stevens, Charles John Whittingham, and William Whittingham. Although the block from which the bookplates were printed is in the St. Bride Printing Library (London), the archives there contain no information on the date of the design, nor on its creator or engraver. The bookplate may well have been designed and executed long before the presentation of the books, and it is possible that the design was cut into the block by Mary Byfield, who cut nearly all of the designs and initials used by the press until her death at age eighty-one in 1876. Unlike most nineteenth-century bookplates, the Whittingham plate is not engraved on copper or steel, but rather on wood. Although Thomas Bewick had engraved bookplates on wood, the medium did not become popular until the turn of the century with woodblock plates being designed by Frank Brangwyn and later by Eric Gill, Rockwell Kent, and Reynolds Stone.

            The design consists of several elements: an English proverb, two animal symbols, a shield with a monogram and open book, an oak tree, and the name of the owner. The proverb "Hope well and have well" can be traced back to 1540, where it first appears in John Palsgrave's translation of Fullonius's Latin comedy Acolastus: 

to him that hopethe (welle) the thinges, whiche hopeth for,

take theyr effecte, or come to passe. Hope welle and have well. 

The proverb next appears in act IV, scene 5, of the play "The Buggbears" circa 1565.¹

            Circumscribed by the slogan and flanked by two symbolic renderings of mammals, a shield bears the initials "C W" for Charles Whittingham, the Nephew, in "Lombardic" capitals. The octavo volume, held by the hand above the initials, is opened to the anchor and dolphin, one of the most famous of all printer's devices, that of Aldus Manutius of Venice. To the right of the shield, the larger anchor and dolphin not only signify Whittingham's admiration of Aldus but also commemorate Whittingham's close affiliation and friendship with William Pickering, who used several adaptations of the anchor and dolphin as his own publisher's mark.² Popular since the Renaissance, the anchor entwined by a dolphin symbolized prudence, festina lente or "make haste slowly."

            Would it be unseemly for a fine Victorian craftsman to ignore the national symbol in his own device? The unferocious lion sitting on his haunches in the plate is neither passant nor rampant, and it does not appear in this position in British heraldry. Long symbolic, however, of power, courage, and dignity, the lion suggests those very qualities found in the imprints of the Chiswick Press—dignity and strength. Charles Whittingham himself made ample use of the lion in his devices, many of which were designed by his daughter Charlotte.³

            The oak tree to which both the anchor and shield are attached exemplifies longevity or immortality, and perhaps, by extension, the immortality of the printed word. Whether as symbol of immortality or of strength or of wisdom, the tree has appeared in several marks and devices from those of the great Estienne Family of printers to the modern Elm Tree Press. The tree was also the mark employed by Vermont-born antiquarian Henry Stevens, elder brother of Benjamin Franklin Stevens.

            Whether the aesthetics of the design satisfy or not, surely the bookplate is a fitting one to commemorate a great printer and his bookmaking family. The reader will find those attributes symbolized by the iconography of the plate in scores of Chiswick Press imprints: dignity, permanence, and innovation tempered by prudence.

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