This post was contributed by Small Special Collections Library Curator George Riser.
Carol Henning met John Steinbeck in June 1928 at Lake Tahoe, where Steinbeck was working at a fish hatchery. They fell “instantly” in love; Carol’s friend Idell, who introduced them, wrote in a letter to a friend, “John fell upon Carol like a bear coming out of hibernation would fall upon a fresh beef steak.” They married in January 1930, and Carol and John began scratching out a living while Steinbeck (with Carol’s inestimable assistance) went about with his writing.
In an early short story entitled “Saint Katy the Virgin” (PS3537.T3234 S2 1936) Steinbeck writes of a medieval time where two brothers from a monastery approach a farmer for his mandatory tithe. The farmer, angry at being forced to tithe, gives the brothers Katy, his most disagreeable pig—a pig so ornery, he soon chases the two brothers up a tree. One of the brothers dangles his iron crucifix over the pig, exorcising the devil that was presumed to be making Katy so violent. Immediately, the pig is calmed and goes willingly to the monastery, where they face the angry Father who explains that, as Katy is now a Christian, she cannot be eaten. The Father notes, “There are plenty of Christians. This year there’s a great shortage of pigs.” Katy goes on to live a contemplative existence, and crowds come from afar to seek her benedictions.
The story was published in December 1936 by Covici-Friede in a fine press edition of 199 copies. A presentation copy to Carol is held in the Clifton Waller Barrett Library in the University of Virginia Special Collections Library. The inscription reads: “To Carol pig beautiful sowie from J. Ernst Pig.”
Throughout their marriage, Steinbeck acknowledged Carol’s inspiration and assistance in writing his stories and novels. His masterpiece The Grapes of Wrath (PS3537 .T3234 G8 1939), a title chosen by Carol, published in 1939, is dedicated “To Carol who willed it.” The Clifton Waller Barrett Library holds the presentation copy of the first printing of The Grapes of Wrath with a holograph inscription to Carol in the private language they used for purposes of intimacy.
Our best interpretation of that inscription, with the help of AI:
One Carol equal one everything The cycle and equal misery So love and stay around One Carol equal and equal.
Sog [Steinbeck’s nickname] John Steinbeck Los Gatos in the evening.
The holograph manuscript for The Grapes of Wrath is also held in the Barrett Library. The first leaf has the heading, “New Start, Big Writing.” Carol had agreed to make a typescript from the manuscript copy if Steinbeck would make his hand more legible in the final draft. One can see from the first leaf to the fourth that Steinbeck’s best intentions at “big writing” did not last beyond the third leaf.
Trouble inevitably follows great success, and John and Carol divorced in 1943. (For further reading, see Susan Shillinglaw, Carol & John Steinbeck: Portrait of a Marriage (University of Nevada Press, 2013). (PS3537.T3234 Z8664 2013))
Section I of “Live Oak with Moss” manuscript in Walt Whitman’s hand, n.d. (Photo courtesy of Lathan Goumas, University Communications)
This post was contributed by Small Special Collections Library Curator George Riser.
Walt Whitman self-published Leaves of Grass in 1855 in a collection of twelve poems. Encouraged by a letter from Ralph Waldo Emerson, Whitman released a second edition a year later in 1856; this edition included thirty-two poems. A third edition followed in 1860, and the book now boasted 156 poems. The poems added to the 1860 edition exist in Whitman’s hand, and these edited manuscript poems (part of MSS 3829) are housed in the Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature at the University of Virginia Special Collections Library.
In 1956, Fredson Bowers, a University of Virginia English professor, examined the manuscript poems and noted that scattered throughout the “Calamus” section was a set of twelve numbered poems, all written on the same white-wove paper and obviously fair copies (final versions after all corrections and revisions have been made). Placing the poems in numerical order for the first time since the 1860 edition was published, Bowers saw that these twelve poems made a single long poem entitled “Live Oak with Moss,” and that Whitman’s intent in these poems was to express his feeling about “the manly love of comrades.”
Here, the twelve manuscript sections have been digitally stitched together. Notice the “IX” that was sliced in half when pages 12 and 13 were cut. Walt Whitman, “Live Oak with Moss” manuscript sections, n.d. (MSS 3829)
In Bower’s 1956 article in Studies in Bibliography, “Whitman’s Manuscript for the original ‘Calamus Poems,’” Bowers noted that Whitman’s first symbol of “manly love” was the live oak. Bowers described the poems in their original sequence as appearing deeply personal and candid and having been written about love and disappointment in a relationship between two men—an insight that had been much speculated upon, but, as Bower concludes, “here in these manuscripts is the proof.”
As Whitman had much to fear in his lifetime when making clear his feelings about homosexual love, he made the decision to scatter the twelve sections throughout the “Calamus” cluster to obscure his original intent.
Shown below are images of the original “Live Oak with Moss” manuscript poem in Whitman’s original sequence.
Not heat flames up and consumes, Not sea-waves hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds, wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may, Not these—O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for his love whom I love! O none, more than I, hurrying in and out; Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I the same; O nor down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high rain- emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my Soul is borne through the open air, Wafted in all directions, O love, for friendship, for you.
2
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself, But I wondered how it could utter joyous leaves, standing alone there, without its friend, its lover near—for I knew I could not, And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away—and I have placed it in sight in my room, It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little else than of them,) Yet it remains to me a curious token—it makes me think of manly love; For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana, solitary, in a wide flat space, Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a lover, near, I know very well I could not.
3
When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been received with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that followed; And else, when I caroused, or when my plans were accomplished, still I was not happy; But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refreshed, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn, When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light, When I wandered alone over the beach, and, undressing, bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my dear friend, my lover, was on his way coming, O then I was happy; O then each breath tasted sweeter—and all that day my food nourished me more—And the beautiful day passed well, And the next came with equal joy—And with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores, I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed to me, whispering, to congratulate me, For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night, In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined toward me, And his arm lay lightly around my breast—And that night I was happy.
4
This moment as I sit alone, yearning and thoughtful, it seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them, in Germany, Italy, France, Spain—Or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India—talking other dialects; And it seems to me if I could know those men better, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my own lands, It seems to me they are as wise, beautiful, benevolent, as any in my own lands; O I know we should be brethren and lovers, I know I should be happy with them.
5
Long I thought that knowledge alone would suffice me—O if I could but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me—Lands of the prairies, Ohio’s land, the southern savannas, engrossed me— For them I would live—I would be their orator; Then I met the examples of old and new heroes—I heard of warriors, sailors, and all dauntless persons— And it seemed to me that I too had it in me to be as dauntless as any—and would be so; And then, to enclose all, it came to me to strike up the songs of the New World—And then I believed my life must be spent in singing; But now take notice, land of the prairies, land of the south savannas, Ohio’s land, Take notice, you Kanuck woods—and you Lake Huron—and all that with you roll toward Niagara— and you Niagara also, And you, Californian mountains—That you each and all find somebody else to be your singer of songs, For I can be your singer of songs no longer—One who loves me is jealous of me, and withdraws me from all but love, With the rest I dispense—I sever from what I thought would suffice me, for it does not—it is now empty and tasteless to me, I heed knowledge, and the grandeur of The States, and the example of heroes, no more, I am indifferent to my own songs—I will go with him I love, It is to be enough for us that we are together—We never separate again.
6
What think you I take my pen in hand to record? The battle-ship, perfect-model’d, majestic, that I saw pass the offing to-day under full sail? The splendors of the past day? Or the splendor of the night that envelops me? Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread around me?—No; But I record of two simple men I saw to-day, on the pier, in the midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends, The one to remain hung on the other’s neck, and passionately kissed him, While the one to depart, tightly prest the one to remain in his arms.
7
You bards of ages hence! when you refer to me, mind not so much my poems, Nor speak of me that I prophesied of The States, and led them the way of their glories; But come, I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior—I will tell you what to say of me: Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover The friend, the lover’s portrait, of whom his friend, his lover, was fondest, Who was not proud of his songs, but of the measureless ocean of love within him—and freely poured it forth, Who often walked lonesome walks, thinking of his dear friends, his lovers, Who pensive, away from one he loved, often lay sleepless and dissatisfied at night, Who knew too well the sick, sick dread lest the one he loved might secretly be indifferent to him, Whose happiest days were far away, through fields, in woods, on hills, he and another, wandering hand in hand, they twain, apart from other men, Who oft as he sauntered the streets, curved with his arm the shoulder of his friend—while the arm of his friend rested upon him also.
8
Hours continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted, Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands; Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles and miles, stifling plaintive cries; Hours discouraged, distracted—for the one I cannot content myself without, soon I saw him content himself without me; Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing, but I believe I am never to forget!) Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed—but it is useless—I am what I am;) Hours of my torment—I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of the like feelings? Is there even one other like me—distracted—his friend, his lover, lost to him? Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected, thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who is lost? Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his anguish and passion? Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name, bring the fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest? Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see the face of his hours reflected?
9
I dreamed in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth, I dreamed that was the new City of Friends, Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love—it led the rest, It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, And in all their looks and words.
10
O you whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you, As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me.
11
Earth! my likeness! Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, I now suspect that is not all; I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst forth; For an athlete is enamoured of me—and I of him, But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible to burst forth, I dare not tell it in words—not even in these songs.
12
To the young man, many things to absorb, to engraft, to develop, I teach, to help him become élève of mine, But if blood like mine circle not in his veins, If he be not silently selected by lovers, and do not silently select lovers, Of what use is it that he seek to become élève of mine?
This post was contributed by Stacey Evans, senior imaging specialist and project coordinator in the Digital Production Group at the University of Virginia Library.
Introduction
Visions of Progress: Portraits of Dignity, Style and Racial Uplift catalog cover featuring featuring a black-and-white photograph of an African American woman in a high-necked lace blouse and a floral hat, set against a dark background.
“Can we re-digitize a set of glass plate negatives of African American portraits from the Holsinger Studio Collection?” That question came from Curator of Exhibitions Holly Robertson as the Visions of Progress: Portraits of Dignity, Style and Racial Uplift exhibition approached in 2022.
The UVA Library’s Holsinger Studio Collection (MSS 9862) consists of approximately 10,000 wet-plate glass negatives and 500 celluloid negatives from the commercial studio of Rufus W. Holsinger—and later his son, Ralph—based in Charlottesville, Virginia. The unique collection includes 600 portraits of Africans Americans in central Virginia and offers insights into life in central Virginia from the late 19th century to the early twentieth century.
I have known John Edwin Mason, the exhibition’s chief curator, since the early days of my freelance photography career in Charlottesville. I first encountered photographs from the Holsinger Studio Collection soon after moving to Charlottesville in 1996. Holsinger’s landscape photographs appear throughout the city, and, for Virginia Magazine assignments, I retraced his steps—pairing my contemporary images with his early twentieth-century views.
In more recent years, I noticed Holsinger’s portraits reproduced on vinyl across Charlottesville on buildings and construction fences—a striking reminder of his enduring visual legacy. Joining the University Library in 2020, I was delighted to be in a position to revisit this collection in a new context. So, when the question of re-digitization arose, my answer was yes. As someone new to cultural heritage imaging and the process of digitizing glass plates, I began my research.
The Holsinger Studio Collection was first digitized in the 1990s using flatbed scanners. Advances in digital imaging now allow us to capture significantly greater pixel detail and a wider tonal range. Re-digitizing the plates would not only enhance image quality but also provide researchers access to un-cropped versions that include portrait numbers corresponding to sitters’ names recorded in two fragile business ledgers held in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library.
2022 installation of the Visions of Progress exhibition in the Small Special Collections Library
Research & Production
The primary sources for my research included the Federal Agencies Digitization Guidelines Initiative (FADGI), the Digital Transitions Transmissive Digitization Guide, and a blog post by TownsWeb Archiving. I hold a BFA in Photography from the Savannah College of Art and Design, earned in 1995. My early professional experience included positions as a newspaper lab technician and as a first assistant to an architectural photographer. During that time, I gained extensive experience converting slides and film negatives into digital files using drum and desktop film scanners. However, before this re-digitization, I had no prior experience working with glass plate negatives or using a digital camera system as the capture device—now the preferred approach in cultural heritage imaging.
A screenshot from working with Capture One software showing a 4”x5” black-and-white film target and object, content, and speculative artist’s intent versions of two plates featuring African American women.
From the equipment available in our studio, I selected an XF Phase One camera with an 80-megapixel digital back and a 120mm macro lens, paired with Capture One Cultural Heritage software, a DT Film Stage table, a lightbox, and a sheet of glass to stabilize the plates. I began the workflow by creating a Lens Cast Correction (LCC) profile for the session, capturing the film stage and glass in position to ensure even illumination across the frame. Next, I photographed an Image Science Associates 4”x5” black-and-white film target to establish a baseline for exposure, white balance, and resolution. This target served as a reference for tonal consistency and system performance throughout the session.
Once the setup was calibrated, we proceeded to photograph each plate (emulsion side up), adjusting the shutter speed as needed to compensate for the varying densities and contrast levels among the negatives. My objective was to produce an uncropped primary file that faithfully represented the full tonal range of each plate—retaining both highlight and shadow detail. In my research, I learned that there are typically three “versions” to consider when digitizing for archival purposes: object, content, and speculative artist’s intent. We decided to preserve both the object and speculative artist’s intent versions.
The two preservation formats of the Bill Hurley glass plate negative and associated metadata as shown in the UVA Library’s internal tracking system.
Interpreting artistic intent can be challenging when working with glass plates from a studio more than a century old. Fortunately, John had several original prints from the Holsinger Studio, and, when it came time to finalize the digital renderings, he joined me at the workstation as I fine-tuned images. I tend to prefer flatter tonal curves that preserve subtle detail giving printers more to work with, while John advocated for a bit more contrast based on his Holsinger prints in hand. We met in the middle, taking into consideration both our professional perspectives.
The re-digitized glass plate of Jessie White, accessible through Virgo, shows two images of White, an African American woman, sitting slightly diagonal on a chair with print publications on her lap. Her hair is just below the ears and might be tied back. She wears a full-length white skirt with a white three-quarter length sleeve blouse. The blouse is embroidered with a pin, and a black rectangular shaped bow on toward the collar. Her left gaze is slightly off camera to the right, and the right image holds a more straightforward gaze.
A detail from the Holsinger Studio Ledger which tracks customers and their portrait purchases. From left to right is the date, the sitter’s name, identification number, and cost.
Each glass plate negative has an identification number etched into the emulsion of the plate. These numbers enabled us to identify portrait sitters based upon a ledger in the Holsinger Studio Collection that included the name of the sitter and how much they paid. For example, Jessie White (X02319) paid $1.00 for her photograph on May 25, 1914.
Imaging Specialist Stacey Evans working at a camera station photographing the glass plates and Exhibitions Coordinator Jacquelyn Kim working on a laptop with the item list spreadsheet to handle the re-digitization of the Holsinger glass plates.
During the quality assurance process, the title and caption metadata were embedded in the file and double-checked against the item spreadsheet.
Working alongside me was Exhibitions Coordinator Jacquelyn Kim. She worked closely with John and Holly to select which portraits would be included and created a spreadsheet to record the corresponding metadata for each plate. During the digitization sessions, she handled the plates with care, allowing me to focus entirely on image capture and adding the identification number to the metadata.
Outcome
A two-page catalog spread with text describing Bill Hurley’s life in Charlottesville and the speculative artist’s intent reproduction of Hurley’s glass plate, originally photographed in 1909 at the Holsinger Studio. Hurley is seated with a slight diagonal holding a lit match gazing directly at the camera with a cigarette in his mouth. He wears a hat, suit, vest, white shirt and tie and long pants.
The resulting images are beautifully reproduced in the exhibition catalog. We maintained the full frame of each plate, leaving a thin black border to assure researchers that no detail was omitted. The delicate textures of lace, the richness of skin tones, and the soft transitions in shadow and light all contribute to the dignity and depth of these portraits. Beyond their technical achievement, these re-digitized images strengthen the connection between the glass plates and the people they represent—linking descendants today with the stories of their ancestors’ portraits of dignity, style, and racial uplift.
Although the exhibition has come and gone, the new files are accessible through the University of Virginia Library’s Virgo catalog. Forty portraits are featured in an exquisite catalog along with essays and descriptions of the plates.
The re-digitization of the Holsinger Studio glass plates reflects the University of Virginia Library’s ongoing commitment to advancing cultural heritage imaging and digital preservation. I am grateful to have contributed to this work alongside dedicated colleagues who share a passion for both technical excellence and historical storytelling.
A two-page catalog spread featuring photos and descriptions of the lives of Susie Smith and Harvey Foster. Smith is seated in a long coat and hat. Foster, dressed formally, stands beside a seated companion.
This post was written by Small Special Collections Library Curator George Riser.
At the age of 22, after leading a peripatetic existence, Langston Hughes moved to Washington, D.C., and took a job as a busboy at the Wardman Park Hotel. One day, he saw a notice announcing renowned poet Vachel Lindsay would be giving a reading in the hotel theater that evening. Hughes writes in his autobiography, The Big Sea (PS3515.U274 Z464 1940), “I very much wanted to hear him read his poems, but I knew they did not admit colored people to the auditorium.”
That afternoon, Hughes wrote out three of his poems—“The Weary Blues,” “Jazzonia,” and “Negro Dancers”—and placed them in the pocket of his busboy uniform. Again, from The Big Sea:
“In the evening when Mr. Lindsay came down to dinner, quickly I laid them beside his plate and went away, afraid to say anything to so famous a poet, except to tell him I like his poems and that these were poems of mine. The next morning on the way to work, as usual I bought a paper—and there I read that Vachel Lindsay had discovered a Negro bus boy poet! At the hotel the reporters were already waiting for me. They interviewed me. And they took my picture, holding up a tray of dirty dishes in the middle of the dining room. The picture, copyrighted by Underwood and Underwood, appeared in lots of newspapers throughout the country.”
Josephine Tighe Williams, “Discovery of a New Writer of Poetry Among Workers at a Washington Hotel,” Star, December 13, 1925. Papers of Vachel Lindsay (MSS 6259)
Josephine Tighe Williams, “Discovery of a New Writer of Poetry Among Workers at a Washington Hotel,” Star, December 13, 1925. Papers of Vachel Lindsay (MSS 6259)
Lindsay’s “discovery” of Hughes introduced his works to a broader audience and helped him garner wider literary acclaim. However, by the time they first met in 1925, Hughes had already begun establishing his own reputation.
In fact, Hughes had published several poems in popular Black journals—such as Crisis, Opportunity, and Alain Locke’s guest-edited issue of Survey Graphic—and had signed a contract for his first book. It was through his acquaintance with Locke that Hughes met Georgia Douglas Johnson, who hosted the S Street Salon in her home—a weekly gathering of celebrated poets, writers, and artists. There, Hughes met, among others, Zora Neale Hurston, Richard Bruce Nugent, and Carl Van Vechten, who sent some of Hughes’ poems to his publisher, Alfred A. Knopf. Not long after, Hughes received a letter from Blanche Knopf, Alfred’s wife and business partner, saying his poems had been accepted for publication.
Dust jacket designed by Miguel Covarrubias. Langston Hughes, The Weary Blues (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1926). Clifton Waller Barrett Library (PS3515.U274 W4 1926)
The Weary Blues (PS3515.U274 W4 1926), Hughes’ first published book of poetry, came out the following year in 1926. It would not be long before Langston Hughes would become one of the most influential and celebrated poets of the Harlem Renaissance and beyond, eclipsing the fame of his early advocate, Vachel Lindsay.
Shown here are five typed and signed poems Langston Hughes sent to Vachel Lindsay at his address in Spokane, Washington. Marks made by Lindsay in black ink are visible on the pages. These poems are found in Box 65 of the Papers of Nicholas Vachel Lindsay (MSS 6259) in the Clifton Waller Barrett Collection of American Literature.
“The Weary Blues” became the titular poem of Hughes’ first published book of poetry. Hughes inscribed this typescript version, “For Vachel Lindsay, whose poetry I much admire, these jazz poems of mine.” Lindsay writes somewhat pompously below Hughes’ signature, “This is to certify I think these five poems are poetry.”
Here, Lindsay has modified the title of the poem from “Negro Dancers” to “Buck Dancers.”
“Jazzonia”
On the back of “Jazzonia,” Hughes addressed this set of poems to “Nicholas Vachel Lindsay[,] Davenport Hotel[,] Spokane[,] Washington.”
“Poem For the portrait of an African boy after the manner of Gauguin”
This post, by Manuscripts and Archives Processor Ellen Welch, introduces a new acquisition: the Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869), documenting the service of a twenty-three-year-old African American woman, Madeleine Coleman, in the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion of the United States Women’s Army Corps during the Second World War.
The 6888th Battalion was an all-female mostly Black military unit that has been made famous by several books and movies—most recently in a 2024 film, Six Triple Eight, directed by Tyler Perry and filmed in Atlanta, Georgia; Chattanooga, Tennessee; and the United Kingdom (available on Netflix). The 6888th accomplished the near impossible feat of clearing a huge backlog of mail addressed to service members abroad. The women systematically sorted and routed an estimated backlog of 17 million items to over seven million service members in record time, which significantly uplifted the morale of service members in the war. The collection contains photographs, diaries, a memory book, a prayer book, certificates, newsletters, telegrams, menus, and ephemera belonging to Corporal Madeleine Coleman. Watch Six Triple Eight and then visit the Special Collections Library to meet Corporal Coleman and the extraordinary women in this collection.
Madeleine Coleman Roach
Madeleine Coleman in her uniform. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Madeleine Coleman, originally from Milstead, Alabama, and Atlanta, Georgia, moved to New York and enlisted in the Army on January 1, 1943, following the enlistment of her boyfriend and future husband, John Roach, also from New York. She entered active service in September and was promoted to corporal, the same rank as Roach. Coleman was determined to follow him abroad and to achieve equal military rank. She trained in Fort Des Moines, Iowa; Fort Devens, Massachusetts; and Camp Sibert, Alabama, before heading overseas in 1945. John Roach trained at several locations in Texas and was also stationed overseas. They both trained as stenographers and corresponded with each other throughout the war until they married in 1946 in Roen, France.
The 6888th Battalion
The 6888th Battalion at work. Corporal Coleman was one of 855 African American and Hispanic women (one from Puerto Rico and one from Mexico) in the 6888th who served overseas in Birmingham, England and Roen, and Paris, France. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
The 6888th wrote a camp newsletter entitled “Special Delivery.” Two complete issues and four partial issues are in the Madeleine Coleman Roach papers (MSS 16869).
African American women were selected from the Women’s Auxiliary Corps (WAC), the Army Service Forces, and the Army Air Forces to form the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, nicknamed “Six Triple Eight.” First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and civil rights leader Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune successfully advocated for the admittance of African American women as enlisted personnel and officers in the WAC. The response was the creation of the 6888th, a unit assigned to clear the significant backlog of mail for service members abroad. (2) General Eisenhower wanted this mail to be delivered as a means of helping with the morale of the troops. (1) Major Charity Edna Adams Early was selected to command the battalion. She was proud of the work her unit did, performing their tasks in record time. The women were trained to identify enemy aircraft, ships, and weapons and to be prepared mentally and physically for full military operations. In Birmingham, England, and in Roen and Paris, France, they found warehouses stacked to the ceilings with mailbags and rooms filled with packages of spoiled food and gifts, along with rodents. (3) The 6888th tracked individual service members by maintaining about seven million information cards, including serial numbers to distinguish different individuals with the same name. Recently recorded oral history interviews with two surviving 6888th members—Fannie Griffin McClendon and Anna Mae Robertson —provide first-person accounts of their work.
The Assignment
The assignment for the 6888th was to expedite a two-year backlog (17 million letters and packages) of mail to the seven million World War II American service members, government personnel, and Red Cross workers stationed in England and France. (2)
Many pieces of mail and packages from home failed to reach service members because the military units moved quickly to new locations or because names and addresses were incomplete. Some mail had been sitting in bags for two to three years. With no encouragement or news from home, morale became very low. The 6888th Battalion sailed for two weeks from the U.S. to Glasgow, Scotland, on the ship Ile de France amidst threats from nearby German U-boats. Arriving by train in Birmingham, England, in February 1945, they worked in poorly maintained buildings such as the King Edwards School or airplane hangar warehouses, described as a “cold, dark, dirty warehouse” with broken windows, infested with rats and with mold growing on the mail. They fixed up the school and cleared the mail backlog in 90 days (half of the expected six months). They worked around the clock in three consecutive eight-hour shifts, seven days a week, and learned to become detectives searching envelopes for clues to determine the intended recipient. (3) Their filing system and efficiency made them so successful that they were asked to clear up the Army mail in Roen and Paris, France, which they did in five months. Their motto was “No Mail, Low Morale.” (2)
Discrimination
Initially the women of the 6888th recognized that the assignment was considered secondary to war efforts performed by white men and women. Despite the discrimination and racism of white officers and fellow soldiers, the women of the 6888th are now recognized for their achievement with awards, monuments, and praise. Their work is valued as being an important component of the World War II military effort. “They fired no shots, and they fought no battles … And yet, their courage and their dedication achieved a different kind of victory. Almost 80 years later, the 6888th continues to stand as a testament to the outstanding achievements of Black women Soldiers throughout U.S. Army history.” (3)
Coleman describes being forced into a segregated unit in Camp Sibert, Alabama. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Coleman often wrote in her diary about the racial discrimination she and her fellow battalion members faced during training and from fellow Americans serving overseas. She described experiences of racism at Camp Sibert, Alabama, particularly from white women or, as she called them, “Southern crackers.” She wrote about segregation and “the appalling lack of democracy and equality in the United States.”
She also mentioned discrimination against women in the service. According to an article by Melissa Thaxton and Jennifer Dubin, “It is estimated that 150,000 women served in the WAAC/WAC during the war, about 4% of whom were African American.” Segregation practices required African American women in the Army Corps to remain at 10% of the overall force. Even after receiving full military training and extensive education for skilled positions in medicine or education, they would be placed in clerical positionsor as manual laborers. While white men in America had served in military combat since the Revolutionary War, no women were allowed to enter military service until 1901 (and only then, as nurses). The military did not accept African American women until World War II—and then only in limited roles. The women in the 6888th were the first female African American unit to serve in World War II. They were successful despite the discrimination they faced. In 2022 they were recognized for their service with the Congressional Gold Medal “…not only for their successful completion of their mission at the end of World War II, but for their sustained collective pursuit of racial and sex equality in the face of significant social and political barriers.” (3)
Retired Colonel Edna W. Cummings declared, “The Congressional Gold Medal is the nation’s gratitude for the 6888th Battalion and the thousands of African American women who served in the Army during World War II. Their service will never be forgotten as soldiers and trailblazers for gender and racial equality.” (3)
Alyce Dixon, a former corporal in the 6888th expressed her feelings about her service, “We’re all human — whether Black, white, red or brown, and we all have something to offer.” (3)
Elaine Bennett explained that she joined the WAC “because I wanted to prove to myself, and maybe to the world, that we [African Americans] would give what we had back to the United States as a confirmation that we were full-fledged citizens.” These pioneer women who had limited opportunities for employment at home sought a life of adventure and patriotism amidst adversity and made a difference in the world. (3)
Madeleine Coleman’s Diary
Corporal Coleman had an active social life at dances at the service club. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Coleman’s diary, written before her service overseas, features excerpts from her daily life of training, marching, drilling, and working in the office and field in the Army from 1943-1944. She wrote about her exhaustion from work, her anxieties about army inspections, and her private thoughts on the harsh treatment against African Americans and women in the Corps, especially at Camp Sibert, Alabama. She often encouraged herself with positive messages, such as “what’s next for you little girl.” She also described her social experiences, with dates and dances at the service club. Her diary entries reflect her commitment to John Roach while she compares him with other men that she dated.
Pages in Coleman’s diary about her daily work and school schedule. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Of interest are diary entries which exhibit straightforward curiosity when she learned about women in lesbian relationships for the first time.
Coleman describes her surprise that her friend is a lesbian. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
Photographs
There are about 35 photos in the collection depicting Coleman’s service and showing women in uniform, many in Rouen and at the French Riviera. Included is a photograph of her commanding officer, Major Charity Adams Early, who was a popular leader and one of the highest-ranking African American female officers in the nation. There are also documents of John Roach’s military service in Texas, Italy, and Army bases in the South Pacific.
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
Coleman’s “Memory Book” highlights the various places she lived and worked during the war. It includes signatures and messages from fellow soldiers. Madeleine Coleman Roach Papers (MSS 16869)
After the war, Madeleine Coleman Roach became a secretary at the Woodrow Wilson Vocational School (August Martin High School) in New York City. She graduated from York College with honors in African American Studies in the early 1980s. Part of the college library is named for her. John Roach was employed with the postal service. They had two daughters, Rouena and Phoebe, and lived in South Ozone Park, New York. Madeleine Roach died in 1984 at the age of 65 following the death of her beloved husband, John Roach, in 1983.
With an origin story that started with discrimination and segregation as part of the WAC, the 6888th was a precursor to the Civil Rights movement in America.
“The Six Triple Eight’s achievements are remarkable considering the fraught social and political climate of the time. Indeed, the women of the 6888th Postal Directory Battalion proved to be pioneers in military service during an era when racial segregation was law, and few opportunities were available to women to work outside the domestic sphere.” (3)
The current celebration of the 6888th Battalion in films and documentaries as well as in books and archives is well-deserved and long overdue.
Fargey, Kathleen. “Women of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion” 14 February, 2014. Buffalo Soldier Educational and Historical Committee. Accessed 3/21/25. https://www.womenofthe6888th.org/the-6888th
Thaxton, Melissa and Dubina, Jennifer. “A Different Kind of Victory: The 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion.” National Museum of United States Army. Accessed 3/21/25. https://www.thenmusa.org/articles/a-different-kind-of-victory-the-6888th-central-postal-directory-battalion/
By: Sue Donovan, Conservator for Special Collections
A wonderful opportunity for collaboration took place recently in Shannon Library’s Special Collections Conservation Lab. As part of our Orange Flag Workflow, or the process by which rare book catalogers and archivists alert us to preservation issues, a book entitled The Zoological Keepsake came to my bench. Published in 1830 in London, the book had its original boards which were covered in silk. It was purchased as part of the History of Childhood collection, and it is described as “a child’s miscellany of facts, literature, and prose on animals” (from The National Library of Australia’s catalog). The cataloger had flagged it because the silk was quite damaged and even missing in some parts. I had never worked with a book bound in silk before, so I knew it was time to reach out to a colleague in textile conservation, Claudia Walpole.
Before Treatment of The Zoological Keepsake, front cover.
Before Treatment of The Zoological Keepsake, back cover.
Claudia cautioned against using any kind of adhesive to reattach or stabilize the silk since it could cause discoloration of the silk. Instead, she suggested using bobbinet tulle (“bobbinet” is the term for tulle that is machine-made in the UK) sewn around the book. Since any covering would have to be made to allow the boards to open independently, the first thought that came to my mind was to use the bobbinet like a dust jacket wrapper. The Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library has one of the largest collections of dust jackets, so I am familiar with the kinds of wrappers that go around brittle paper, but I couldn’t use the same kind of wrapper with The Zoological Keepsake because it would create static that could damage the silk further.
Creating a wrapper with bobbinet in the style of a dust jacket wrapper seemed to have potential, so I set to work experimenting with how to adapt a conservation textile to library and archives conservation.
Nylon bobbinet was smooth and blended in well with the original silk, and I found out that I could weld two pieces together on the ultrasonic encapsulator, a piece of equipment that we use frequently to make reversible plastic enclosures for unbound sheets of paper, drawings, and maps.
I molded nylon bobbinet around the book cover by welding a top seam with the encapsulator and using a heated spatula to create a crisply-creased bottom seam.
Image of nylon bobbinet placed on top of a green cutting mat where each square is ½ inch.
The welded edge of two pieces of nylon bobbinet.
Then I needed to fold a flap of the wrapper around each board to keep the wrapper in place. I experimented with using heat alone to attach the nylon to itself, but all my attempts failed, so I ended up using strips of heat-activated mending paper to tack the side flaps to the top and bottom flaps to hold everything in place.
Inside the front board of The Zoological Keepsake, showing the heat-activated mending paper.
Once in place, the bobbinet does a good job of protecting the original silk of the binding. All of the damaged silk is enclosed and protected from further damage. However, the bobbinet does make the book feel more slippery in the hands, so I thought it would be better to limit handling by placing the book itself in a drop-spine box.
I made a custom box for the volume and included an image of the verso of the book inside the box itself so that anyone curious about the back wouldn’t have to handle the book to see the design.
Image of The Zoological Keepsake shown inside a drop-spine box with the bobbinet wrapper in place.
Overall, this was a great project to work on. It involved collaboration with a conservator in a different field and the adoption of a little-used material in library and archives conservation. I am pleased with the result, and I learned a lot! Two conservators have already reached out to me about the material and the process, so I think it will be helpful to other conservators if they encounter a similar item in the future.
This post by Ervin “EJ” Jordan Jr., Research Archivist & Associate Professor at the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, concerns a recent acquisition, “Isabella, Jumain, Miriam and Rosa Letter,” March 7, 1865 (MSS 16853)
This document of historical rarity on a unique maritime aspect of the American Civil War was recently acquired by the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. It consists of March 7, 1865 letters of an anonymous family of four Confederate women Isabella and her daughters Jumain, Miriam, and Rosa (their surname unknown) to their husband/father in Havana, Cuba. Trapped by the Union Navy’s blockade of Galveston, Texas, their anxious departure attempts were a backdrop of Southern blockade-running activities (‘running the blockade’). Postal supply shortages and costs necessitated these letters’ single sheet of blue stationery; its 160-year survival implies receipt by the husband/father, interception by federal blockaders or never having been mailed. (Its cover envelope is missing). Extant letters by blockade runners’ civilian passengers are rare as mail confiscated by Union blockaders was usually destroyed.
Building a Blockade: Team Union Navy Blockaders
The Federal government imposed a naval blockade (April 1861-May 1865) of Southern seaports during the Civil War, patrolling 3,550 miles of coastline with a blockading fleet of 400 ships assigned to six geographically-based squadrons: Atlantic, North Atlantic, South Atlantic, Gulf, East Gulf and West Gulf. Captured blockade runners were taken to federal-held ports as war prizes, their cargo’s cash value shared among ships’ crews as prize money. Several seized vessels were commissioned for Union naval service. The blockade gave notice that foreign nations trading with the Confederate South risked confrontation with the United States. Although the smaller Confederate Navy (100 ships) never seriously challenged the Union Navy (700 ships) nor imposed its own blockade, Southern commerce raiders attacked Northern merchant vessels and whaling fleets in the Atlantic, Arctic and Pacific Oceans, decimating trade and increasing shipping insurance rates.
Breaking the Blockade: Team Confederate Blockade Runners
Southern blockade runners, privately or government-owned, were specially-built seagoing steamships constructed or purchased in Britian, Scotland and Ireland with large cargo holds and comfortable cabins. Known as “greyhounds of the sea” for their gray paint and swiftness, many bore colorful names like Let Her Rip, Rattlesnake, Banshee, and Vulture. One Confederate government-owned vessel, the Fingal (later the ironclad CSS Atlanta), returned from Europe in late 1861 with 10,000 rifles, 400 barrels of gunpowder, and a million bullets.
Blockade runners exported cotton for British textile industries, tobacco, sugar and rice to Europe in exchange for munitions, shoes, blankets, meat, coffee, medicines, and Bibles. They also carried civilian passengers and private and diplomatic mail to and from Europe and the South’s Atlantic and Gulf Coast ports (usually as night runs to avoid detection): Fernandina and St. Augustine, Florida; Beaufort and Wilmington, North Carolina; Charleston, South Carolina; Savannah, Georgia; Mobile, Alabama; New Orleans, Louisiana; Galveston and Brazos Island, Texas. Favored foreign ports included Liverpool (Great Britain), Bermuda, the Bahamas (Nassau), Halifax, (Nova Scotia, Canada), Tampico, Matamoras and Vera Cruz (Mexico), and Havana, Cuba. European nations were officially neutral but vessels owned or crewed by their citizens dominated blockade-running. After the war international arbitration (the Alabama Claims, 1869-1872) resulted in Britain’s compensating the United States $15.5 million for ‘damages’ caused by British-built Confederate ships.
Blockade-running was a business often financed by joint stock ventures euphemistically known as ‘exporting and importing companies’ whose investors reaped profits ten times their cargoes’ original value. Such voyages were inherently perilous–1,500 ships were run aground, captured or sunk, drowning crews and passengers. “King Cotton” exports slumped by 95 percent; the Confederate South’s cotton embargo strategy to pressure European intervention in the war failed, contributing to its ruined economy.
The golden age of blockade-running ended by the early spring of 1865 as the Union army and navy increasingly captured Confederate seaports; though blockaded, only Galveston remained under Southern control. Ironically, blockade runners’ successes may have helped strangle the blockaded Confederacy by increasingly trafficking extortionately-priced luxury goods like silks and champagne while Confederate armies suffered shortages of badly-needed military supplies.
The Letter(s): “We have had some adventures”
In the first of this anonymous family’s four March 7, 1865 Galveston letters, “Isabella” writes to her unidentified husband of her frustrated attempts to join him in Cuba via Matamoras, Mexico—a regular route for self-exiled Confederates. Several tries by an unnamed blockade runner [paddle steamer CSS Lark?] on which she and their three daughters booked passage, had been thwarted by Union ships [the West Gulf Blockading Squadron, 990 miles of the Gulf of Mexico coastline from St. Andrews Bay, Florida, to Texas-Mexico border] “since last Saturday night” (March 4). Their misfortunes (“We have had some adventures, without any Success or Advantages”) were compounded by seasickness, “loss of Sleep and great fatigue,” their ship’s running aground and frequent engine trouble, barely avoiding seizure. An incoming schooner, Charles Russel, was turned away because of “Yankees firing at her in great rate.” Isabella provides a clue of the family as Texans, remarking “when we arrived here 21 years ago” [1844] and concludes: “I must close now the Children want to add some[.] I wish you farewell again with the hope of Your Health and Happiness.”
The second letter, “Jumain” [eldest daughter?] to “Dear father,” offers sentiments similar to her mother’s. She relates another sailing attempt Sunday night (March 5) that only traveled a few hundred yards, stopped by engine troubles a half mile from the Yankees, forcing a return to Galveston. Another attempt was planned for that night (March 7) but she concedes the “Yanks blockade outside very effective, and no doubt we will have some trouble getting out.” She hopes for gainful employment in Havana “as this loafing about don’t Pay” and concludes “Bad news today if it comes true about Charleston having been taken.” [Confederates evacuated this South Carolina city in February 1865; Union troops subsequently burned it.]
The third letter, “Miriam” [middle daughter?] to “Dear father,” complains: “We have not as yet departed for one reason or another, but if we do not get out tonight we will probably have to stay until next moon.” She says because “Mother” (Isabella) had already written about “our proceedings” it would only trouble him to repeat them.
The fourth and last letter, “Rosa” [youngest daughter?] to “my dear father” in childlike handwriting, is the briefest: “I bid You good bye again.” In a penciled postscript her mother Isabella reports interrupting Rosa’s initial use of ink because it was in short supply. (The first seven letters “my dear f” are in ink.) Isabella made her use a pencil “fearing she would [turn] the ink over” but Rosa apparently pouted at being denied an ink pen: “She does not like [using] the Pencil and therefore only bid you good Bye.”
The Confederacy never lifted the Union blockade, and the war ended a month after the family’s last known breakout attempt; subsequent efforts, if any, are unknown. On May 24, 1865, the South’s last blockade runner, CSS Lark (built in England for the Confederate government), departed Galveston for Havana. Three weeks later, June 19, 1865, during its postwar Union military occupation, Galveston became the birthplace of Juneteenth.
Heidler, David and Heidler, Jeanne, eds. Encyclopedia of the American Civil War: A Political, Social, and Military History. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2000.
The New York Times, February 2, 1865: “Correspondence of the Associated Press/HAVANA, Saturday, Jan. 28.”
U.S. Naval War Records Office, Official Records of the Union and Confederate Navies in the War of the Rebellion Series 1, vol. 22. Washington: GPO, 1894-1922.
Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia: “CSS Lark”; “Danish West Indies”; “History of Galveston, Texas”; “List of ships built by Cammell Laird”; “Postage stamps and postal history of the Confederate States.”
A sampling of the Gordon Books taken by Stacey Evans, DPG
Perspective A: How a French Graduate Student Recovered a First Edition Novel From the 17th Century
Contributor Biography: Christina Coomer received her MA in French from the University of Virginia in 2024. As a second-year graduate student in the Department of French she worked part-time at UVA’s Small Special Collections Library digitizing rare French books in the Digital Production Group Studio. She focuses on women’s studies in 18th Century French literature. She was awarded a 2023 Rare Book School fellowship to complete research on forgotten female authors of eighteenth-century France.
To write about how I recovered a first edition French novel from the 17th Century, I first must explain the Gordon Collection and to tell my personal connection to it. The Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books is a collection of over 1,200 rare French books dating from the 16th to 19th centuries. The collection comprises first-edition copies of every notable French work by every famous French writer. The collection’s defining characteristic is the custom gold-leaf and leather book bindings. The collection is impressive in its magnitude of titles, and with all the matching book bindings, an aesthetic masterpiece.
I first learned about the collection when I accepted a part-time position at UVA Library in the Digital Production Group (DPG). DPG was seeking a French graduate student to digitize a portion of the books in the collection. It was a dream to come to work and touch first-edition works by Moliere, Michel de Montaigne, and Balzac to name a few. After months of working at the library, I went on a tour of the library vault which houses some of the most rare and valuable books in the Special Collections Library.
Taken during Christina’s tour of the vault by Stacey Evans with DPG
While on the tour, I learned more about the collection, which made it even more impressive in my eyes. The collection contains a book that once belonged to Madame de Pompadour and was custom made to match her apartments at the Palace of Versailles. The collection also includes a book rumored to have once belonged to Marie-Antoinette. The collection’s shining star, a beautifully bound set of Diderot’s Encyclopedie, was at one time believed to have been a part of the library of Catherine II of Russia. The identity of this set’s former owner remains a mystery. However, that day in the vault there was only one book on my radar: La Princesse de Cleves by Madame de LaFayette. Gordon 1678 .L3 v.1/2
A screenshot of the digital scanning of La Princesse de Cleves v. 1 title page by Christina during the digitization process.
La Princesse de Cleves was the novel that persuaded me to specialize in eighteenth-century French literature. After studying it in Jennifer Tsien’s graduate course, I fell in love with the novel and period. It is the novel that defined French Realism and was France’s first psychological novel (as well as being highly entertaining on its own). I found the Gordon edition in the vault and instantly inquired about its digitization status. To think I could have the opportunity to digitize my favorite book was a pipe dream. To my disbelief, the library’s records indicated that it had not been digitized yet. I made my request to my supervisors and advocated for the novel’s importance and significance in literary history. More than that, Gordon’s specific edition of the novel included handwritten notes about the characters – information any French scholar would be eager to examine. I wanted my lasting impact at the UVA Library to be digitizing this novel for readers and scholars all over the world to enjoy. Thanks to the kindness of the DPG, my request for digitization was accepted, and I was allowed to personally digitize La Princesse de Cleves.
Perspective B:
Contributor Biography: Vaino Judson received his MA in French from the University of Virginia in 2024. He worked in the Digital Production Group studio in the UVA Library to digitize many artifacts in the UVA Library’s Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French books.
The Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library is personally my favorite building on Grounds. Working in Special Collections means handling extraordinary and uncommon artifacts on a regular basis. Language, drawings, handwritten notes, and handmade things all make up the artifacts in the library, so really the extraordinary in this case is a variety of human activities in contexts that used to be common. Knowing that customs that have fallen out of use were once considered just as ordinary as the customs familiar to myself seems to contradict fascination with them on the surface. However, this knowledge also serves as a reminder that the human experience transcends not only myself and people I know, but the entire current moment as we understand it. In the case of the Gordon Collection of rare French books, the context in which the artifacts were made stretches back to as long as five hundred years ago. Many of these books contain biographies of major political actors and political treatises as well as philosophies that affected how people perceived themselves and others. In other words, people have been living in their own times for hundreds of years.
Example of French hand writing
Coming into contact with the persistence of human consciousness does not only offer fascination but a humbling moment of resonance with a larger view of life. Scholars look to the past and to the previously formed ideas contained in books to understand the significance of current events. At the same time, current events relate back to the past such that the worlds of the living and the dead are intertwined.
The library houses a number of priceless rare books and manuscripts, including those that belong to the Gordon Collection, in a secure underground chamber where the controlled temperature, moderated light level and humidity conditions shield these historical artifacts from change. Storing the books in this way makes them available to future generations and safeguards the knowledge they contain. However, they are simultaneously placed in a world unto themselves where the constant necessity of change that gives ideas gravity cannot affect the books. One way of affecting change on rare books, however, is by rendering them digital. Digitizing rare books takes these books that date back to hundreds of years in the past and recreates them in a way that is intelligible to how information is stored and shared in the present. It creates a kind of synchronism between the present and the past: a series of images in an online viewer. This relatively newly invented technology displays the use of an older technology to convey thoughts. People expressing interest in the lives of one another has existed for longer than anyone currently has been alive. Something about desiring to preserve that is distinctly human too.
Voltaire, and Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books (University of Virginia). Lettres Philosophiques. Chez E. Lucas, au Livre d’or [i.e. Jore], 1734. Gordon 1734 .V65 https://search.lib.virginia.edu/items/u2334116 University of Virginia Library – search.lib.virginia.edu Under 17USC, Section 107, this single copy was produced for the purposes of private study, scholarship, or research. Copyright and other legal restrictions may apply. Commercial use without permission is prohibited.
This post is contributed by Kim Cull, McGehee Rare Book Librarian sharing an exciting milestone with the McGehee Miniature Book Collection.
Did you know that the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library has more than 10,000 miniature books, maps, and objects within its collection? No? Well, get your magnifying glass because we do! Most of our miniatures belong to the McGehee Miniature Book Collection given to the library in 2005 by Caroline McGehee-Lindemann-Brandt in honor of her first husband, Carden Coleman McGehee.
Now, you may be asking, “What is a miniature book? Is it just like a regular book but smaller?”Short answer: yes. The Miniature Book Society reports that in the United States, a miniature book is a book that is “no more than three inches in height, width, or thickness.”1 Miniature books can come in all different shapes and sizes; they must fit within the parameters established and generally accepted by collectors. Within the McGehee Miniature Book Collection, there are traditionally shaped books that weremeant to be carried around in a pocket and enjoyed wherever the reader finds themselves. There is a secondary type of miniature book: the artist book. These books often appear to be works of art and are meant to be enjoyed visually. Artists’ books can be very abstract and tend to focus more on the book as an object and less on the content held within. There also exists a subgenre of miniature books: the micro miniature book. In this subgenre, book artists tend to compete to see who can create the smallest possible book, and readers usually need a strong magnifying glass to even attempt to read the text.
Check out McGehee 01354 and 01355 which came with the original gift.
Now that we have established what a miniature book is, we can dive a little deeper into the history and contents of the McGehee Miniature Book Collection. Every collector has an origin story and a reason why they collect what they do. Mrs. Brandt is no different. She started collecting when she was a young girl with encouragement from her parents. She started by keeping the little books attached to dolls and expanding to collect anything that fits the criteria of a miniature book. In the early 2000s, Mrs. Brandt was hoping to downsize her house in preparation for retirement and needed to find a home for her collection. Miniature books may be small and therefore take up little space, but by then, her collection numbered around 11,000. The books were stored in specially made miniature bookcases, shoe boxes, etc. As an alumnus of Sweet Briar College, Mrs. Brandt contemplated gifting her entire collection to them. At some point, Mrs. Brandt reached out to the university her first husband attended, the University of Virginia. Of course, we wanted her amazing collection. How could we not? After careful negotiations and support from many people, most of the collection was transferred to the library in 2004.
Caroline Brandt’s “crown jewel” of her collection – her Omikuji; currently uncataloged.
The path to making these miniatures available in the online catalog, Virgo, has not been without its challenges. The major hurdle has always been the size of the collection. A second hurdle is that fact that Mrs. Brandt has never limited herself to collecting only English language titles; she has collected books in all or almost all the major languages. She is very fond of Japan and has collected many Japanese texts. Sadly, libraries in the Western parts of the world have not always been equipped to catalog non-roman language materials. Luckily for the library, Mrs. Brandt has kept a very detailed inventory excel spreadsheet that could be manipulated and uploaded to the catalog to make the titles accessible. It was not a perfect solution, so trained library staff had to go in and correct records. Over the years various staff members have helped to catalog the collection, including Gayle Cooper, Allison Sleeman, Barbara Hatcher, Annette Stalnaker, Teresa Brown, Jocelyn Triplett, Jackie Parascandola, and Kim Cull.Thanks, and kudos to everyone who has helped with the McGehee Miniature Book Collection. As of April 2024, we have cataloged over 10,000 miniature books and reached call number McGehee 10000!
McGehee 10000 opened to show a Medieval nail maker at work!
You might be wondering what some of our favorite miniature books are. We would encourage you to visit the Special Collections Library and check out our “Miniature wall” where 100 different miniature books have been photographed and displayed for all to enjoy. Next to the exhibit is an iPad that contains a little information for each book. These books were chosen primarily by library staff, and we hope that you will love them just as much as we do! We also encourage you to explore the collection yourself! Titles can be discovered by searching McGehee Miniature Book Collection in Virgo; it is ok if you cannot choose just one. We know. There are so many fantastic ones to see!
Come visit our miniature book wall display and check out a sampling of the collection!
We look forward to seeing you soon and hearing what your favorite is. Please feel free to take photographs, sans flash, and share the images online. Tag us @rareuva on Instagram and include the hashtag #McGeheeMiniatureBooks.
References
Society, Miniature Book. n.d. What is a miniature book? Accessed May 22, 2024. https://mbs.org/.
This post is by Elizabeth Nosari, Project Processing Archivist at the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, who is currently working with the William Faulkner Collection. In her previous role, she served as the Nau Project Archivist for the John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection.
Tintype double portrait of two unknown soldiers, ca. 1861–1865. John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection, MSS 16459, box 166, tray 1, PT0321, Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, University of Virginia.
Lesson plans for the John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection are now available to view and download directly from the collection’s finding aid, under the “External Documents” heading at the bottom of the page. The two lesson plans—Analyzing Civil War-Era Correspondence and Analyzing Civil War-Era Portrait Photographs—engage students with the two most significant record types in the Nau collection in terms of scope. These two mediums also speak to one of the greatest strengths of Mr. Nau’s collection: the documentation of personal, lived experiences during the United States Civil War, 1861–1865.
Goodyear, Robert B., February 14, 1863. John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection, MSS 16459, box 43, folder 31, DL0006, Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, University of Virginia.
The Nau collection letters, found in Series 1 and written by white men as well as white women, connected men away fighting to loved ones and business associates at the home front; letters reflect their role as wartime lifeline and contain exchanges of everyday news about families, friends, and finances. Letters also offer firsthand accounts of camp life, hospital conditions, battlefield experiences, and political views. The portrait photographs in Series 2—in early photograph formats, including daguerreotype, ambrotype, tintype, and carte de visite—visually capture and document their mid-nineteenth-century subjects, including their wartime roles as evidenced in uniforms, insignia, and weaponry. Digital facsimiles pulled from Series 1 and 2 of the collection are an important part of the lesson plans and encompass a selection of letters written by white men and women as well as portraits of soldiers, including white men, Black men, a Native American man, and a white woman.
Tintype portrait of Frederick L. Rainbow, ca. 1861–1865. John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection, MSS 16459, box 157, tray 2, PT0424.0001, Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, University of Virginia.
The lesson plans engage with letters and photographs from the Nau collection as artifacts of history and material culture that served real and practical functions in the context of war. The reading materials and activities are designed for students to learn about the technologies that made letter writing and portrait photography possible on a mass scale in the mid-nineteenth century as well as their democratizing influences. As both practices increased in popularity over the course of the Civil War, literacy rates rose and a new, larger swath of American society was able to read and write. Portrait photography, which proliferated in part due to its convenience and affordability, allowed Americans across the social strata of the country to participate in portraiture for the first time. Mid-nineteenth century people could readily and self-consciously construct, capture, and memorialize their identities. They could also share their likenesses with friends and loved ones and mail these mementos back to the home front.
The Nau collection lesson plans invite students to read about Civil War-era letter writing and photographic portrait making, look at and analyze real-world examples, and create their own letters and portraits. Designed for grades 9 and up as well as grades K–8, they allow instructors to pick and choose which materials and activities best suit their students’ learning objectives.
Access the lesson plans and explore the John L. Nau III Civil War History Collection here.
![March 17 and 18 diary entries with “Work[,] school[,] dull" written for each day.](https://smallnotes.library.virginia.edu/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/000060287_0002-scaled.jpg)
![Fourth page of a handwritten letter, containing two notes: first, “Miriam” [middle daughter?] to “Dear father" dated March 7th, 1865; the second, from “Rosa” [youngest daughter?] to “my dear father.”](https://smallnotes.library.virginia.edu/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/000059429_0004.jpg)
