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ON Henry Morris, Hand Papermaker

Summer 2009
Summer 2009
:
Volume
24
, Number
1
Article starts on page
31
.

For fifteen years, fine press printers and publishers from around the world have marked the first weekend in October as a special time. It is this weekend that Bob Fleck and his company Oak Knoll Books hold an annual book festival in New Castle, Delaware. The festival is meant to highlight the efforts of printers and publishers, as well as to offer a public venue for potential sales. I had attended many of the early festivals in hopes of attracting new customers to our small bookbinding business, however I had not been in attendance for seven years, partly due to the success of my early appearances. We have been too busy binding fine press books to allow for a leisurely absence from the shop. The 2008 festival offered itself as a special occasion as it was being advertised as a tribute to Henry Morris and his fifty-year career as proprietor of the Bird & Bull Press.

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I have been binding books for Morris for the past seventeen years and felt a special need to attend. During the fair, Tom Bannister approached me, asking if I would consider writing an article about Henry Morris's lesser-known skills as a hand papermaker for Hand Papermaking. I agreed to do so although I possess little knowledge of the craft and little handson experience as a hand papermaker. I do have a deep appreciation for it. Perhaps this is due to a distant family relation, William Rittenhouse, who in 1690 founded the first paper mill in America on the banks of Monoshone Creek near Germantown, Pennsylvania. In the 1950s, Henry Morris was occupied in the commercial printing business when one day in 1956 he purchased a single leaf taken from a 1491 imprint, Digest of Civil Law, printed by Andrea Torresano in Venice. Morris felt it would make a nice decoration for his office. He was impressed with the specimen of early printing and the quality and beauty of the handmade paper. Anyone who knows Henry Morris will tell you that he possesses an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. He immediately wanted to know more about early papermaking. He was quite ahead of his time as there were few hand papermakers to quiz about techniques of the trade in the mid-1950s. Consequently Morris relied on the writings of Dard Hunter. Each new revelation gleaned from his readings led Morris deeper along the path of an all-consuming hobby that was about to change his life. To make his own paper Morris needed a paper mould. While he had never seen one in person, he felt he understood how they should be constructed from studying the descriptions and illustrations in Hunter's books. Morris decided to build his own mould. He reports that his first attempt at this was "a colossal failure."1 He had not taken proper account of the tremendous stresses a mould must withstand when it is in use or the bracing needed to resist warping in the soaking and drying cycles that are part of a mould's life. An early failure like this would have discouraged many amateurs from continuing a hobby. Not Henry Morris. He dove further into his research and eventually built a second mould that he says had so much bracing and support built into it that "it would support an elephant." Morris's next goal was to make his own paper pulp. He attacked this with a hammer and anvil in an attempt to beat a pile of wet rags into submission without first "picking the rags into threads." To this day Morris is amazed at how much pounding wet rags can absorb without showing appreciable change. He next tried to process rags in a food blender, then an electric mixer, and finally a food grinder. All led to dismal results but to Morris, it was unthinkable to fail before he had really begun. Morris decided that he would build his own Hollander beater! This required stealth and as Morris says his little hobby "went underground" because up to this point it had been a rather inexpensive pastime. He realized that building a beater was going to cost a little money. He wished to conceal this from his wife, Pearl. Morris began to smuggle parts into his basement. He would bring home rolls of copper sheeting and high-grade steel bars casually explaining that they were "just some things I need in the basement." Pearl never asked for a more detailed explanation. There are many stories about Morris building his beater but perhaps the most hilarious is his tempering of the beater knives. Tempering requires great heat only available by forge which, of course, Morris had built in his cellar. He tells the tale of one afternoon when he was pumping away at his forge. Morris was unaware that his blower exhaust was showering out sparks at ground level in the front of his house. A concerned neighbor excitedly called the fire department which arrived in full force. Morris says an "animated conversation" Henry Morris forming sheets of linen half stuff out of a 46-gallon galvanized bathtub, with his self-built papermaking mould. Photo: Gene Josephs, 1957. Hollander beater, built by Henry Morris in 1957, running linen half stuff, procured from a salesman from American Writing Paper Company (Holyoke, Massachusetts). Photo: Gene Josephs, 1957. All photos courtesy of Henry Morris unless otherwise noted. summer 2009 - 33 ___________ notes 1. All quotes by Henry Morris from telephone conversations with the author, October through November 2008. 2. The eleven titles printed by Morris on his own handmade paper are: - A Collection of Receipts in Cookery, 1958 - Papyrus, 1961 - Three Erfurt Tales, 1962 - Five on Paper, 1963 - The Passionate Pirate, 1964 - A Babylonian Anthology, 1966 - Old Ream Wrappers, 1969 - The Paper Maker, 1974 - A Pair on Paper, 1976 - Nagashizuki, 1979 - Thirty Years of Bird & Bull, 1988 ensued which resulted in the temporary closing of his forge until he was able to install a spark-retaining screen in the vent. His explanation to Pearl of the commotion at the front of the house was "I was just making a little thing." Morris persisted with his forging, amidst the choking coal dust and, finally, he had his beater! Eventually Morris acquired drying felts. For a vat he purchased a 46-gallon galvanized bathtub from the hardware store. He found a used screw press once owned by a bookbinder that he used to squeeze water from couched sheets of paper between felts. There was much trial, error, observation, and panicked correspondence with the likes of J. Barcham Green, but at last Morris was able to turn out reasonably satisfactory sheets of paper. "I know of few thrills," explained Morris, "comparable to the one I experienced when I held my first perfect sheet in my hand. In that single moment, all the exasperations of the past vanished." By 1958 the accumulation of paper began to pose storage problems and since Morris was in the printing business he decided to print a book using it. His first title was a cookbook taken from a 1724 text titled A Collection of Receipts in Cookery which he edited to fit the number of pages that he chose to print. This was the beginning of his now-famous Bird & Bull Press. In the fifty years that have transpired since Receipts in Cookery, Bird & Bull Press has published 73 titles, eleven of which were printed by Morris on his own handmade paper.2 Nearly half of these are books about papermaking, paper decoration, or the history and uses of paper. His books on these subjects are a treasure trove of useful knowledge and illuminating information that are highly sought after by researchers as well as collectors. Morris's "little hobby" has built a legacy that is a great gift to the book world.