Hope Weston is not to be found in any of the standard dictionaries of artists and book illustrators. To discover more about her I began with the assumption that since she was the illustrator of two books and the author of a novel (of which more below), all published in London during the 1920s, she would probably have been born in the UK between 1880 and 1900. A search on ancestry.co.uk for a Hope Weston born in the UK in that time interval found only two. The first was a Hope Weston, born in Coventry in 1898, but who, sadly, died before the end of that year. The second was Doris Hope Weston, born in Birmingham on 25 August 1892 (1). In the 1911 census she was recorded as an Art Student, aged 18, living with her parents, Harry (= Henry) Weston, aged 59. and his wife Eliza Hope Weston, aged 49, at 20 St. Stephen’s Square, Bayswater, London (She also had an older brother whose interesting story is best told separately (2).) This, of course, was promising, but, just in case, I retained the UK birth, but dropped the 1890±10 year of birth and searched for a Hope Weston with exact key–word art / artist/ illustrator. Only Doris Hope Weston showed up, making it highly likely that she was the one I was looking for. Taking that for granted, electoral rolls showed that she was mostly living in London during the period 1921 to 1939 inclusive, though with a spell in Chichester in 1928–9. Also “Doris Weston, Artist” took a trip to Sydney, Australia in October 1923, returning in July 1924.
The reasons for the trip are not clear, and I have been unable to discover if she had family or friends living there, but Australia will feature again in what follows. That trip to Sydney turned out to be interesting, for whilst there she attended an art exhibition at which she happened to be interviewed by an art journalist called William Moore from The Sydney Daily Telegraph. In his “Gallery and Studio” column on 31 May 1924 (p.13) he reported that having asked her about what she thought of Australia, she replied, “Australians remind me of children who have escaped from their mother and are having a fine old time ... How you do enjoy yourselves here! Sunday at Coogee is like a holiday at Home – the band plays the latest dance music, a moving mass of people fills the parade, and the whole scene just throbs with life.” (Anyone who remembers the deadly dullness of the English Sunday in days gone by will readily understand this comment!) Of greatest interest to us here though is the last section of Moore’s account:
Miss Weston, who received her art instruction from Byam Shaw and Vicat Cole, has illustrated several books for London publishers. She did the illustrations for an edition of Omar Khayyam, issued by Routledge and Sons, and recently completed the drawings for “Princess Joy”, a child’s book issued by Bale and Daniels (sic). Her work has been shown at the exhibitions of the Royal Institute of Painters in water–colour, and the Camden (sic) Hill Art Club.
We shall return to Omar Khayyam and “Princess Joy” below, but meanwhile, given that she was an art student in 1911, her art instruction would seem to have been at the Byam Shaw and Vicat Cole School of Art, founded in Campden Street, London, 1910. Indeed, in The Daily Telegraph on 10 October 1923 (p.5), in an account of an exhibition of the Campden Hill Club, we read that “some of the teaching of the late Byam Shaw seems to have borne fruit in the studies by D. Hope Weston.” (Certainly her Rubaiyat illustrations, particularly in their use of vivid colour, remind me of Byam Shaw’s illustrations for an edition of Laurence Hope’s Garden of Kama published in London in 1914.)
In 1927, Hope Weston’s novel The Restless Team (3) was published by Andrew Melrose of London – it was, alas, unillustrated, though she did do the design for the dust–jacket (Fig.1.) A reviewer in the Melbourne newspaper The Australasian for 23 July 1927 (p.62), noting the signature on the dust–jacket (to the lower right of the chariot wheel), wrote that “Miss Weston ... paints with a brush as well as a pen, and she appears to lay the colour on thickly with both.” Not only do we have here another link to Australia, but we have the first of a number of references to her sometimes over–lavish use of colour. As another reviewer in The Aberdeen Press and Journal on 2 June 1927 (p.3, col.3) said of the novel:
The book throughout is rather overwritten; life is lived, even in trifles, at top speed ... Those who like their novels strong and well seasoned will relish this study of art, artists and Bohemia, but they must not ask for too much delicacy in situation or verisimilitude in character and situation. The steady hitting of the highlights of life tends to become wearisome.
Another reviewer in The Montrose Standard on 20 May 1927 (p.6, col.2) wrote:
It is a tale of studio life and deals with the experiences of a young artist, Faith Chester. She comes into contact with many in art circles and naturally enough the novel is Bohemian in its outlook. It is interesting enough, but spoilt by sentences such as this. “Waiting, tense and silent, lapped round by sunshine and shadow, intoxicating perfume and the faint caressing breeze that now and again lifted the petal of a flower and floated it against her cheek.” It is a novel that irritates in parts, pleases in others, and taken overall has quite average merit.
The Publishers’ Note on the front inner flap of the dust–jacket was much more enthusiastic, of course, hailing the novel as a “poignant study of the vanguard of the human race – the revolutionary artist”, adding that it depicts “a very real group of human beings driven relentlessly forward by the twin controlling hands of primitive passion and passionate idealism.”
The novel is set mainly in London, with interludes in Paris, and having read it myself, I would agree with the last sentence of the review in The Montrose Standard, though it is interesting to wonder how much of herself Hope Weston wove into Faith Chester, the central character of the novel. Certainly both were exhibiting artists, and Faith, like Hope (almost inevitably the name Charity springs to mind here), was criticised for her use of colour (p.234.) In addition, Faith did a painting of FitzGerald’s “Daughter of the Vine” (quatrain 40 in the first version) for a purchaser in Melbourne (p.116 & p.129) – Australia, again – described as “a feast for the Persian Bacchus – touched by the ideal of Gougin (sic) in colouring and flat handling of paint, though in feeling infinitely Oriental.” However, Faith Chester, unlike Hope Weston, was half French (p.25) and hailed from New Zealand, where her father ran an Art School (p.56) and was a champion of pioneering art there (p.15.) Hope Weston, though, was born of English parents and lived mainly in England, as did her father, who was a Master Tailor and Clothier by profession. Curiously, The Brisbane Sunday Mail on 14 August 1927 (p.10) quoted a section of p.196–7 of the novel, under the heading “Modern Women” – Australia, again.
But to return to exhibitions, from The Times on 22 November 1929 (p.12, col.2) we learn that at the Chester Gallery in London “may be seen Miss D. Hope Weston’s portraits in oils” in which “the heads are more than life–size, the colours violent, and the expressions of the sitters approaching towards caricature.” Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate a catalogue of this exhibition.
Little is to be found about Hope Weston in the 1930s, save that she exhibited portraits of Miss Edna Brittain and Miss Euphemia Barclay in the London Portrait Society’s exhibition at the New Burlington Galleries in April 1935 (4a) and a “powerful and perceptive” (5) portrait in chalk of Janet Mitchell, author of the novel Tempest in Paradise, in the London Portrait Society’s show at the same venue in April–May 1936 (4b). (Mitchell was Australian, but she worked as a journalist in England between 1934 and 1940, and her novel was published in London in 1935.) In The Observer on 6 March 1938 (p.14, col.5) it was reported that “Hope Weston” exhibited a landscape (no details given) in the Women’s International Art Club exhibition held at the R.B.A. (Royal Society of British Artists) Galleries in London. In fact, reference to the exhibition catalogue reveals that she exhibited three paintings, “Rostrevor”, “Angel with Flaming Sword” and “Guards”, the first of these presumably being the landscape mentioned in The Observer (6).
After the Electoral Register for 1939 she rather disappears from view until her death in Painswick, Stroud, Gloucestershire, on 12 July 1968, where she had lived at 1 Paradise Cottages since at least 1966. Her death certificate names her in full as Doris Hope Weston, and lists her occupation as, “Artist in water colour and oils, Spinster.”
To return to the books illustrated by her, The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, with eight illustrations in colour by Hope Weston, using FitzGerald’s first version, was published by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. in London (and in parallel by E.P. Dutton & Co. in New York), in 1923. It was undated but the accession date of the Kegan Paul copy in the British Library is 18 June 1923, and the Dutton edition was reviewed in the North Carolina newspaper The Charlotte Observer on 7 October 1923 (p.8). It is Potter #119. The credit for publication to Routledge & Sons in the newspaper quote above, like the reference to Messrs George Routledge in Weston’s “Foreword” as the instigators of her approach to Omar, arise from the fact that in 1912 the firm of George Routledge & Sons had taken over the management of Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.
According to Weston’s “Foreword”, the request from Messrs George Routledge was that she should “endeavour to see Khayyam from a new angle, to visualize him as he appeared to his contemporaries, to study his mind before FitzGerald gilded his thoughts,” adding, “It was a tremendous task this effort to express in colour the thoughts in the mind of the old mystic.” It would seem, then, that Weston believed that the true Omar was a mystic, presumably a Sufi, whereas many of us would strongly disagree with this, and incline more to the view that actually FitzGerald was right to depict Omar as an agnostic with a disdain for organised religion and, if not a Hedonist, at least an advocate of enjoying this life – glass in hand – for there is probably no after–life. At any rate, it was her unusual approach which led Weston to explain her illustrations in her Foreword, of which I give five examples here. Note the strong colouring of the illustrations, already noted in passing above, in relation to the cover design of The Restless Team of 1927 and the portraits in the exhibition of 1929. [The images can be browsed here.]
Thus she explains Fig.2a, illustrating quatrain 16 (“Think, in this batter’d Caravanserai &c”), thus:
The Battered Caravanserai is the symbol of the world of actuality from which the Messenger of Death leads his cortège across the snows through the door of Night. Behind he leaves the things of the body to pass out across the unknown region leading to that dream of man, “the land of the spirit.”
It is interesting that in The Restless Team Weston refers to “the macabre figure of Death in that vast procession across the world” (p.199), though in the above quote she refers to the Messenger of Death, rather than to Death himself, hence, perhaps, her use of a non–skeletal spectral figure with a curiously elaborate head–dress, somewhat reminiscent of a Papal Tiara. She also indicates that death is not “the last word of the last chapter” but “the end of the alphabet only” after which we have to “learn to write” (p.153–4.) Note the ravens in the illustration – birds of ill–omen traditionally held to forebode death.
Weston explains Fig.2b, illustrating quatrain 23 (“Ah make the most of what we yet may spend &c”) thus:
This is an expression of man’s desire to cling to the actualities of the moment. It is a symbolizing of the seizing of momentary happiness, as weighed against the permanent joy of spiritual things. It is the drowning of the questing brain in the opiate of the senses.
A revelry – an actuality of the moment – in the foreground of which is a conventional depiction of Omar with his Beloved, a Jug of Wine (with grapes) to the left, and a glass of wine to the lower right. Three topless girls are dancing in the background on what appears to be a slightly raised platform, with an audience looking on from behind them, though, markedly, Omar and his Beloved are paying them no heed. It is interesting that, in The Restless Team, dance features as well as art – at one point Faith Chester, in planning a private show with her friends, “knew a thrill of happiness that she was going to dance, and a dance of abandonment and joy” (p.49), though of course she was not topless. (The novel is ostensibly “Bohemian”, but a rather genteel version of it, the characters in it all seeming to be comfortably off – Faith Chester is supported by her father, for example (p.101) – and no–one is starving for their art and living in a freezing garret. Added to which there are no wild parties, merely the likes of: “Faith unearthed several bottle of Graves and began to dispense cakes and sandwiches” (p.53.)) .)) It has been suggested that the three topless girls might be Weston’s ‘oriental’ take on the Three Graces, but given her interpretation of quatrain 23, it seems more likely they are just three more earthly dancing girls.
She explains Fig.2c, which is used as the frontispiece, illustrating quatrain 31 (“Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate &c”) thus:
The throne of Saturn, the mind satiated by the joys of the Senses, breaks free and rises to its state of empery, and by cold reasoning unravels the problems of life ... “but not that knot only untied by the soul.”
The more conventional view of this verse rests on the fact that in Omar’s day the Earth was believed to be at the centre of the universe, and surrounded by the seven spheres associated with the then known planets, the outermost being the sphere of Saturn. By rising to that sphere Omar could then view everything more clearly, ‘from on high,’ and though he did indeed solve many puzzles in doing so, he did not solve the problem of Human Death and Fate. Weston’s interpretation, in contrast, seems somewhat fanciful.
She explains Fig.2d, illustrating quatrain 46 (“For in and out, above, about, below &c”) thus:
I have endeavoured to show The Magic Shadow Show, where the Master of the Show holds his shadow box (i.e. the world), through which tiny children pass through experience out into the Unknown.
It is interesting that in The Restless Team Faith Chester prays to the “Force at the back of things ...the Power behind the visible ... to form a tiny link with the Divine” (p.124.)
The conventional view of this verse – FitzGerald’s own – is that the “Magic Shadow–show” is based on the Magic Lantern, a set of opaque images of people, animals and such like, pasted or painted onto a cylinder of transparent material. When the cylinder is made to rotate around a candle inside it, the shadows of the opaque figures are cast onto the walls of the surrounding room, and move around the walls as the cylinder rotates, thus coming and going. Though Weston has dispensed completely with shadow imagery, and introduced “tiny children” who “pass through experience out into the Unknown,” as opposed to “we Phantom Figures” who “come and go” (are born and die), her illustration, which has a rather Hindu feel about it, is certainly interesting.
Weston explains Fig.2e, illustrating quatrain 54 (“I tell Thee this – When starting from the Goal &c”) thus:
“ ... Over the shoulders of the flaming foal,” Parwin (i.e. Jupiter), the planet, rides the foal of Heaven and followed by Mushtara (i.e. the seven Pleides (sic)), flings to earth the souls about to be incarnated.
This is an interesting illustration of this obscure verse, with Jupiter seen riding a “flaming Foal” and with the young women representing the star cluster known as the Seven Sisters or Pleiades. Each has a star on her head, and though seven stars are clearly visible in the illustration, one of the sisters is largely hidden behind the back of the horse (for reasons of space, or for the more subtle reason that only six of the seven sister–stars in the cluster are easily visible to the naked eye ?) Jupiter’s astral nature is likewise indicated by a bright star over his somewhat Assyrian–like head. The “souls about to be incarnated” are presumably the glass–like globules falling down to Earth (distributed by the sisters, from the jars which each holds ?), though in the actual verse only Omar’s “predestin’d Plot of Dust and Soul” is flung to Earth. Also “the flaming Foal” in this quatrain is more likely to be the Sun – the chariot of the Sun is traditionally drawn by a horse, or more usually horses, as in the Greek myth of Helios and the Indian myth of Surya.
I leave readers to decide for themselves whether Weston succeeded in her mission to depict the true Omar in mystical terms. It is curious that in The Restless Team Faith Chester is of a mystical “mind and soul” bent (p.92), despises “the dull roar of materialism” (p.215), and who sets out to do a design for Sir Edwin Arnold’s narrative poem on the life and enlightenment of Buddha, The Light of Asia (p.173, p.202), and to do a painting of Buddha for Lord C (p.247, p.251, p.254), and yet she represents Omar as a devotee of “the Persian Bacchus”!
Also of note is that each illustration is signed in the bottom right hand corner “Hope Weston” with a date below. Though the book was published in 1923, some of the illustrations were done some years before – Fig.2c, for example, is clearly dated to 1919, and Fig.2e to 1921.
[The images can be browsed here.]
The second – and so far as I can see, the only other – book illustrated by her was Lily Hall’s Princess Joy of Everywhere and the Fairies, subtitled “an Allegory of Life with Fairy Interludes.” Published in London by John Bale, Sons & Danielsson Ltd., it was undated but the accession date of the copy in the British Library is 1 November 1922 and, unlike her Rubaiyat, it was widely advertised and reviewed in the newspapers as a Christmas book for that year (and, incidentally, for 1923 as well.) It contained six black and white illustrations. Fig.3a serves to show the fairy aspect of the story, and Fig.3b (Ambition) & Fig.3c (Faith and Love) its allegorical aspect. Though advertised by the publisher as “A Fairy Story for Children” one suspects that the allegorical content would have gone over the heads of most children! Even so, it is an intriguing book, and seemingly the only one written by Lily Hall.
Though she did not illustrate the book itself, Hope Weston did design the dust–jacket for the English edition of the American writer and musician Anice Terhune’s novel The Eyes of the Village. It was published in London by John Bale, Sons & Danielsson Ltd in 1922 (7) – the publisher of Princess Joy. The dust–jacket is shown in Fig.4 – her signature is at the lower left.
Hope Weston’s design for this dust–jacket, as well as that for her own novel, The Restless Team, makes one wonder how many others she designed in the 1920s 1920s (for another see note 2 & Fig.6), for by this time the function of the dust–jacket had developed from a simple protective cover for the binding of a book to a means of promoting its sales. Pictorial dust–jackets, particularly those with striking designs and impactful colours, had become ‘the name of the game’, so one can see how Weston might have been called upon to ‘do her stuff’ for various publishers. But finding these dust–jackets can be a problem, and the English edition of The Eyes of the Village typifies it, for Hope Weston is not named at all in the book, merely on the dust–jacket, so if the dust–jacket becomes torn and lost, as so many do, her involvement in the publication becomes lost too. In addition, in the past various libraries have tended to discard the majority of dust–jackets, and to retain only a minority deemed to be of interest, these either being pasted inside the front or back of the book, or else stored separately as printed ephemera. Either way, online catalogues of books tend to give no indication of the presence or otherwise of a dust–jacket, and even where they are stored separately as ephemera, there is generally no online catalogue of them available (though I should add that some on–site paper and digital catalogues have been done.) This, of course, creates library reference problems for cases like the Anice Terhune novel, for, to reiterate, since Hope Weston is not named in the book, unless the dust–jacket has been pasted into the front or back of the book, how could one know of her involvement in the design of its now separated or discarded dust–jacket? (8)
Turning now to art–work of hers which has survived, at present I know of only three.
Fig.5a, “The Elyxir” is signed “Hope Weston” in the bottom right hand corner, though it is undated. It was sold in auction by the Biksady Gallery & Auction House, in Budapest, Hungary, in 2016. By its title and content it clearly relates to Hope Weston’s mystical side, and bears comparison with her Rubaiyat illustrations.
Fig.5b is a portrait of Mrs Maria Ludovici, sold at the Chiswick Auctions, London, in 2021. It is signed Weston to the lower left, and on the back is a label naming the sitter and giving the artist’s name and address as “Hope Weston, 43 Rosslyn Hill, Hampstead, London N.W 3.” Electoral rolls show that this was her address throughout the period 1936 to 1939 inclusive (after which Electoral Roll records cease online), so the portrait may well have been done in this period. It is not clear who Mrs Ludovici was.
Fig.5c is the most intriguing. Titled “Claude Flight’s painting lesson (which include[s] artists Daphne Mayo and Dorrit Black),” it is signed Weston to the lower left (not visible in this photograph), and signed & inscribed on the back. It was sold by Christies, Sydney (Australia again), a few years ago. It is intriguing, firstly because it is in such a different style to anything else by her, and secondly, because though London–based Claude Flight was a painter, he is known principally for his use of the linocut, and Fig.5c (an oil painting) rather mimics the Vorticist style of some of these (notably his linocuts of the Four Seasons (c.1926), now in the V&A in London, though Weston’s painting is less abstract.) In addition, though Australian artist Dorrit Black studied under Flight in London in 1927, I have seen no evidence that Australian artist and sculptress Daphne Mayo ever did, though she certainly studied in London in 1919–1923. It may be just coincidence, but English artist Eileen Mayo was (so it is said) instructed in lino cutting over the phone by Claude Flight in 1927! The painting in Fig.5c appears to be undated, but given the foregoing a date in the late 1920s would seem likely. Finally, Eileen Mayo emigrated to Australia in 1952 – so here we have Australia yet again! I for one would certainly like to know the full story behind this curious painting.
[The images can be browsed here.]
Note 1: This date comes from her birth certificate, which also records that her birth was not registered until 15 November 1892. Records show that she was baptised on 13 September 1892, so it is not surprising that the date of her birth has been variously stated.
Note 2: Her brother, Harold Edward Preu Weston, was some 7 years older than her, but he had left home by the time of the 1911 census, and at the time of that census was living in a hotel in Brighton, working as an actor. In 1913 he married Daisy Evelyn Nunn. In 1914 they had a daughter, Evelyn Hope Weston, her father’s occupation being given on her birth certificate as an actor. Two years later, in 1916, they had a son, Harold Frederick Preu Weston, his father’s occupation being given on his record of baptism as a producer of plays. Taking this and his role of actor as a lead, a trawl through the theatrical press of the time reveals that, as Harry Weston, he was acting in various locations around England between about 1905 and 1913, and by 1915 had become a film producer for the silent cinema: “Motherhood”, “Shadows” and “Wild Oats” appearing in 1915, for example, followed by “The Climax”, “Cynthia in the Wilderness” and “The Green Orchard” in 1916, all forgotten today, of course, except by film buffs. In 1916, as Harold Weston, his book The Art of Photo–Play Writing was published by McBride, Nast & Co., of London, to favourable reviews, and in 1920 his novel Masquerade was published by John Bale, Sons and Danielsson Ltd., of London – a publisher also associated with Hope Weston via Lily Hall and Princess Joy of Everywhere, and though she did design the dust–jacket for this novel (Fig.6 – her signature is in the bottom right hand corner), she does not appear to have done those for any of his other novels. (In the 1920s and on into the 1940s he went on to write at least six other novels for various publishers.) Fig.7a is a review of Masquerade from The Sphere on 4 December 1920 (p.34.)
Harry / Harold Weston is a very common name, of course, but that he was the same person is shown by Fig.7b from The Bioscope on 29 May 1919 (p.63) which gives his address as 15 Garway Rd., London – the address shared by Harold Edward Weston and his wife Daisy Evelyn Weston in the electoral roll for 1919, and, incidentally, in the census return of 1921, in which their two children also feature, along with a live–in “mother’s help”. From about 1922 the couple seem to have separated, electoral rolls showing them living at different addresses. He died in Newcastle, County Down, Ireland in 1959; she died in London in 1960. Incidentally, in an interview in The Bioscope on 15 July 1915 (p.53) we are told that “it is rather more than ten years since Mr. Weston started producing dramatic plays in Australia” – another link to add to the chain of numerous other references to Australia in the main body of this article.
Note 3: The title comes from p.229 of the novel, where Faith says to her friend Barbara, a dancer and sculptress, “My horses plunge, swing me to the Immortals, drag me to Hades; a restless team – you drive a steady pair.” This is in response to Barbara, who has just mentioned “Plato’s white horse” – a reference to Plato’s dialogue Phaedrus (253d & following), in which the soul is pictured as a charioteer pulled by two horses, one white (good) and one black (bad). Hence the inscription on the page between the dedication (“To My Mother”) and the opening page of the novel: “A pair of winged horses and a charioteer” – PLATO, and hence, of course, the explanation of her dust–jacket design in Fig.1.
Note 4: a) Miss Edna Brittain was #78 in the exhibition catalogue for 1935 and Miss Euphemia Barclay #139. No information seems to be available as to who these two women were. b) Miss Jane Mitchell was #148 in the 1936 catalogue.
Note 5: The quote comes from an account of the exhibition given in the New South Wales newspaper The Newcastle Sun for 12 May 1936 (p.10), under the heading “Portrait in Chalk.” Again, then, we have a link with Australia.
Note 6: “Rostrevor” was #10 in the catalogue, “Angel with Flaming Sword” #189 and “Guards” #200. Since Rostrevor is a picturesque village in County Down, Northern Ireland, this strongly suggests it was the landscape. Note the Irish connection here, as in note 2 above, in relation to her brother’s death.
Note 7: The English edition was issued in parallel to the American one, which was published in the same year by The Macaulay Company of New York. It contained a frontispiece by John Ellison Brown.
Note 8: To cut a very long story short, Fig.1 pictures the copy of the dust–jacket stored separately from the book at the British Library, it being the only one designed by Hope Weston in a collection of some 10,000 dust–jackets stored separately from their books as printed ephemera. Though the British Library does have a copy of the English edition of Anice Terhune’s novel, its dust–jacket was not retained, and Fig.4 pictures the copy of the dust–jacket pasted into the back of the book at the National Library of Scotland. Neither was found via online catalogues, but via off–chance email inquiries at the two libraries and the help of library staff. It appears that of the six copyright libraries only Cambridge University Library has left the majority of dust–jackets in place on the books to which they belong, though the online library catalogue does not indicate whether or not a dust–jacket is still actually in place. Fig.6 pictures the copy at Cambridge.
I must thank the following individuals and libraries for their help in putting this article together: Vanessa Knight, of the National Portrait Gallery Library; Rebecca Law of the National Art Library at the V&A; Mel Johnson and Wallace Kwong of the British Library; Ciara Colthart and Patricia Gilhooley of the National Library of Scotland; Liam Sims at Cambridge University Library; Charles Ough and Alan Brown at the Bodleian Library, Oxford; Bethany Schofield at the National Library of Wales; and Mary and Donncha (neither used a surname)and Christoph Schmidt–Supprian at the Library of Trinity College, Dublin. I must also thank Fred Diba, Joe Howard and Sandra Mason & Bill Martin for proof reading the article and making some useful suggestions.
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