A Lost Balloon View of London

Church Row, Hampstead

Church Row, Hampstead

Staying with the suburban theme for the moment, a jaunt up to sweet and hilly Hampstead yesterday – another of the lost villages of Middlesex not entirely devoid of echoes of its past.  Fond memories of the old Everyman Cinema – glad to see it still there – only cinema I can ever recall seeing an audience stand, cheer, stomp and whistle in mid film (yes, it was Lauren Bacall – “You know how to whistle, don’t you?” – sultriest line in all cinema – link under Video Links).  Stroll along elegant Church Row, gleaming in the warm spring sunshine.

A Balloon View of London

John Henry Banks, A Balloon View of London. 1851.

My old friend Ralph Hyde, former Keeper of Prints & Maps at the Guildhall Library and ultimate authority on all things London and all things panoramic, had asked me to go with him to have a look at something special.  The Balloon View of London – London spread out as though seen looking southwards from a balloon high above Primrose Hill (first published by John Henry Banks in 1851) is one of the most iconic and most reproduced views of nineteenth-century London we have – but rumours have been circulating for some time of a lost “pair” to it – the opposite view looking northwards from south of the Thames.  Could this be it?

Jonathan Gestetner and Ralph Hyde

Jonathan Gestetner and Ralph Hyde – with the lost balloon view of London from the south.

One of the few places where such a treasure might realistically come to light would be in the superlative collection of London material put together over the years by the ABA’s very own Jonathan Gestetner (Marlborough Rare Books and Pickering & Chatto).  And indeed it was to Jonathan’s Hampstead home we were now heading.   Jonathan fresh and crisp from an hour’s tennis, a cup of coffee and a piece of cake, and then we assemble to look at something special – a balloon view of London from the south.  Looks at first glance for all the world like a lost companion to Banks – but then we start to examine it more closely.  Not quite.  Not quite.  Jonathan produces a copy of Banks (three editions actually) for comparison.  This new balloon view – apparently previously wholly unknown and unrecorded – is plainly rather smaller than Banks.  A quick discussion of when various features of the London landscape appeared and disappeared leads us to a tentative and as yet unproven conclusion from internal evidence that it is also a few short years earlier.

A Panoramic View of London

John Henry Banks, A Panoramic View of London. 1845 (detail).

For comparison, we have look at Jonathan’s copy of Banks’ earlier and less well-known Panoramic View of London (1845) – also a view from the south – and we begin to see some plausible connections.  The Banks 1845 view suffers (to my eye at least) from a loss of control over the perspective – the vantage point and elevation appear to shift from place to place.  This has been to a large extent corrected in both the balloon views by the expedient of exaggerating the street widths and narrowing the buildings to create room for the optical sleight of hand to work.  They are very alike in technique.  We seem – again tentatively – to see a steady line of progress and refinement between the three images.  And one new thing that Jonathan notices about the 1851 Banks balloon view, is that while the two earlier images are executed in aquatint, the shaded areas in this last in the sequence (although looking like aquatint) are in fact, when viewed under magnification, engraved with a palette of diamond meshes of fine lines.  The peripatetic and often bankrupt Banks took out patents for “improvements in the production of printing surfaces, and of engraved metal surfaces” in the 1870s – but from the evidence here he was experimenting – and successfully – very much earlier.

The previously unknown balloon view has no title, date or publication information – almost certainly confirming our guess that it was never published (or else we would have heard of it).  But it does have the etched information that it was drawn and engraved by one J. T. Clark.  And here we pause – because it clearly doesn’t say Banks – and this is a name that rings no bells at all for any of us.  A later survey of the reference shelves confirms that this is a name indeed lost to researchers – and even Professor Google throws up only a view of Shakespeare’s birthplace as a single trace of his working life (assuming this is indeed the same man).

Some rather deeper research this morning leads me initially to identify him as John Thomas Clark, recorded as both artist and engraver on London Census Returns from 1841 to 1861.  But whether he worked with Banks or was his potential rival is entirely unknown.  Much more work to be done.  Notes to be compiled.  But Ralph and I shall put a case to the council of the London Topographical Society (on which we both sit) to produce as soon as possible a reproduction of this fine and lovely record of the mid nineteenth-century metropolis.  Both it and its maker deserve wider recognition.  And, in passing, why not join the London Topographical Society? – cheap as chips and a wonderful free publication for members every year – link in the blogroll to the right.

I manage (just about) to pass Jonathan’s test of trying to identify some of the sketches and so on hanging on his walls – mouth-watering stuff – and make my farewells.  Thank you Jonathan (and Ralph too) – good to see you as always – and thank you for a genuinely exciting morning.   Good stuff.

About Laurence Worms - Ash Rare Books

Laurence Worms has owned and run Ash Rare Books since 1971. He represented the antiquarian book trade on the (British) National Book Committee from 1993 to 2002 and has been six times an elected member of the Council of the Antiquarian Booksellers’ Association. He was largely responsible for drafting the Association’s Code of Good Practice introduced in 1997, served as Honorary Secretary of the Association from 1998 to 2001 and as President from 2011 to 2013. He is a former member of the Council of the Bibliographical Society and continues to serve on the Council of the London Topographical Society. He writes and lectures on various aspects of the history of the book and map trades, and has lectured at the universities of Cambridge, London, Reading and Sheffield, as well as at the Bibliographical Society, the Royal Geographical Society, the Warburg Institute and at Gresham College. He teaches annually at the London Rare Books School and also organises the monthly Book Collecting Seminars at Senate House, University of London. Published work includes the compilation of fourteen ‘lives’ for the “Oxford Dictionary of National Biography”, a number of articles for “The Oxford Companion to the Book” and the chapter on early English maps and atlases for the fourth volume of “The Cambridge History of the Book in Britain”. A major essay on the same subject also appeared in “The History of Cartography” published by the University of Chicago Press. His long-awaited “British Map Engravers, co-written with Ashley Baynton-Williams, was published to critical acclaim in 2011”. More recently, he contributed the numerous biographical notes to Peter Barber’s hugely successful “London : A History in Maps”, co-published by the British Library and the London Topographical Society in 2012.
This entry was posted in Antique Maps, Engravers, Mapsellers, Printsellers and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s