Tag Archives: rare books

Recipes, Formulas And Processes

Readers interested in early twentieth century chemistry, processes, and tricks of the trade used by industry and in the home, might like to check out the online edition of Henley’s Twentieth Century book of Recipes, Formulas and Processes, Edited by Gardner D.Hiscox – a pdf of Cornell University’s 1909 copy at the Internet Archive.

hiscox recipes formulas and processes by G.D. Hiscox
Recipes Formulas and Processes by G.D. Hiscox (1907 edition)

I’m lucky enough to own a 1907 first edition of Hiscox’s classic work, and love the way my copy is dis-colored and bleached by chemical splashes.  Not by me, I hasten to add.  But this book has for sure been used for its intended purpose!  Whether the former owner, a James McQueen Jr. according to the bookplate, lived long and prospered because of its secrets, or in spite of them, is a different matter.

Secrets intended for all; the preface:

In compiling this book of formulas, recipes and processes, the Editor has endeavoured to meet primarily the practical requirements of the mechanic, the manufacturer, the artisan, and the housewife.

Some of the information is innocuous enough.  You can learn how your great grandmother made blackberry jam.  And Celery Clam Punch or Cherry Phosphate (with real phosphoric acid, maybe the origin of cherry coke?) sound refreshing for a summer evening.

But some of the medical cures are distinctly dodgy.  We worry enough today about tanning products, but Hiscox’s cure for a tan, made from bichloride of mercury, sounds lethal.  Helpfully, he shares with us that:

This is not strong enough to blister and skin the face in average cases.

Phew, good job most folk are average.  Responsibly, he adds:

Do not forget that this last ingredient [the mercury compound] is a powerful poison and should be kept out of the reach of children and ignorant persons.

Folk would have taken Hiscox’s Cannabis indica based cure for corns in their stride (ouch!).  And concern over the pinch of cinnabar in his nail polish would be just another case of health and safety gone mad.

But surely, even by the standards of the time, Hiscox’s idea of a light-hearted party trick must have raised some eyebrows (or literally blown them off): like ‘To take boiling lead in the mouth’, ‘Biting off red hot iron’, ‘Sparks from the finger tips’.  And ‘The burning banana’ doesn’t bear thinking about.

hiscox recipes formulas and processes
Recipes, Formulas and Processes (1907 edition)

Some recipes were probably safe, but just sound a little icky.  Like a nice pomade for sir’s hair, made from vaseline oil and beef marrow.   Blue hosiery dye called for some ingredients I’ve never heard of: like 4 pounds of Guatamala and 3 pounds of Beugal Indigo; and others I have heard of: like 1 pail of urine.  Hiscox also contains lots of paint and ink recipes but, disappointingly, there’s no mention of the infamous Mummy Brown.

‘Solid Alcohol’ sounds quite useful, maybe as a firelighter.  I made something similar as a schoolboy, by dissolving soap in methylated spirit.

There’s nothing in Hiscox to separate the domestic from the industrial.  Content is alphabetically indexed, but otherwise all mixed up.   The section on glass includes industrial formulas for making different glass types and colourings in the furnace, but also includes instructions for a home-made glass grinding device.

Interestingly, Recipes, Formulas And Processes was republished through many revisions and editions into at least the 1930s.  But I’m sure today there is nothing quite like it – unless we include the internet as a whole.

On another tack, it’s worth remembering that when Hiscox was published, the welfare and commercial infrastructure we take for granted today (some of us) was much less developed or non-existent.  No popping down to the mall for a ready-made solution to every task.   Folk just did more of their own stuff.

And should you decide to do more of your own stuff, don’t do it from Hiscox!   He’s academically interesting to browse, but clearly some of his recipes and ideas are best left well alone.

Ghost Readers of Science

This post is for anyone who has ever looked through an old book and wondered who its previous owners were.

The intrigue starts with the discovery of a name inside the front cover, or an elegant family bookplate, or perhaps some obscure ephemera tucked in amongst the pages. These kinds of evidence, along with the book’s theme, content, and price, can tell a lot about the previous owner – who may turn out to be more interesting than the book itself. Once the purview of bibliofiles and librarians, provenance research is now accessible to anyone; in a Google world we can all be book detectives.

Science books are no exception, as I discovered with three of my own. The books are connected in so far as they either paved the way for, or hammered home, the idea of evolution in the Victorian mind.

Robert Chambers House
Robert Chambers House in Edinburgh (Photo:Thanks S.Klinge)

The ‘Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation‘, anonomously authored by Robert Chambers and first published in 1844 was, in its day, no less than pocket poison – the shocking scarlet cover and atheist inferences destined to become James Secord‘s “Victorian Sensation“. Then – ‘Explanations‘ – Chamber’s unapologetic sequel; published a year later in response to a torrent of criticism and dismay. And, last but not least, Charles Darwin’s iconical work ‘on the Origin of Species‘, first published in 1859.

Mid-nineteenth century editions such as these would have been expensive items, objects of desire for the professional or aspiring man of business. These sort of people were often successful in their own right and, along with their descendents, are likely to have left their mark on the world. To the owners…….

The Worthington family Vestiges (Photo:Tim Jones)

Plaque on Robert Chambers's house

The first page of this Vestiges tells us the book has spent at least three generations with the Worthington family. The first custodian ‘J.H.’ was probably the first owner of this 1845 fouth edition. The book passed next to ‘W.B.’ in 1915, and finally to Edgar Barton Worthington as a christmas gift in 1931. Based on one evening’s Googling, the clearest picture emerges around the last owner – E.B.W. As is doubtless common knowledge to those who share the subject’s profession and have a knowledge of its history, Dr Edgar Barton Worthington was a biologist and zoologist. A fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, EBW worked extensively in Africa to become the Nile expert, was a personal friend of paleoanthropologist Mary Leakey (of human ancestor artifact fame), and corresponded with Liddell Hart. From 1962, he managed the 10 year International Biological Programme (IBP), the first attempt to manage rationally the world’s reserves in the face of a changing environment and rising population – sounds familiar. The death of EBW in 2001, aged 96, signaled the end of 150 years of Worthington custodianship for this Vestiges. Further research on W.B. and J.H. will have to wait for another evening.

Thomas William Keates's Explanations (Photo:Tim Jones)

The most likely candidate owner of Explanations is the chemist Thomas William Keates. Thomas William lived at Chatham Place in Blackfriars, London, and was elected as a Fellow of the Royal Chemical Society in 1852. He may not have set the sky on fire, but he did develop an improved method for turpentine distillation.

The Origin of John S Swann (Photo:Tim Jones)

When the Origin of Species was published in 1859, the 37 year old John S Swann was working as a lawyer in Charleston, West Virginia. When the fourth edition was printed in 1866, Swann purchased his own copy – this one.

While Darwin was working up revised editions of the Origin of Species in the gentle surroundings of Downe in Kent, Swann was languishing in a Civil War prison. Indeed, one of Captain Swann’s two claims to fame is his survival, and later documentation, of his incarceration at Fort Delaware. Swann’s second notable achievement is the geological survey and topographical map he made of the Kanawha Coalfields in West Virginia; the first of its kind and work he pursued post-civil war – his legal career killed by his Confederate past. (Ironically, Kanawha county was embroiled in a modern day book banning controversy in 1974.)

I have no record of how or when Swann obtained his Origin. But, if it was bought on publication, two years after his release, it is likely the book was with him the twenty years he spent cogitating and planning his war memoirs – a period of introspection and hesitation reminiscent of Darwin’s own.

Happy researching.