Acquiring the Vincent First Folio: A Bibliophilic Drama in Two Parts (Part 1)

(First published in the Caxtonian XXXI, no. 5 (September/October 2023); re-published here with grateful thanks and minor revisions.)

his year marks the 400th anniversary of the First Folio, the first collected print edition of the works of William Shakespeare. Over the 45 years of their collecting, Henry and Emily Folger acquired 82 First Folios—the largest number in any single collection and roughly a third of the surviving copies from the initial print run.

What follows is the story of the Folgers’ pursuit and acquisition of the First Folio that they later categorized as number 1—the Vincent-Sibthorp association copy.¹ The story spans four years and the Atlantic Ocean. Miscommunication, misinformation, and twists of fate factor in heavily. The tale itself is not unlike a Shakespearean play, the structure of which is mimicked in this post.

Here, then, is that story. And in the words of John Heminges and Henry Condell, I hope you will “finde enough, both to draw, and hold you.”²

April 1891. Canwick Hall and London

anwick Hall in Lincolnshire, England was the seat of the Sibthorp family from the 17th to 20th centuries. It had been in Coningsby Sibthorp’s hands since his father’s death in 1861 and was one of his primary residences with his wife, Mary Georgiana.

In April 1891, A. B. Railton was sent to Canwick Hall to weed, arrange, and catalog the books at the estate on behalf of his employer, Sotheran & Co.³ Railton later recounted that in the coach house “on the top of the case outside were stacked a great number of old folios covered with dust,” which an assistant from the estate gave to Railton for inspection. “On throwing down a folio volume which lacked one of the covers, had many leaves in tatters, and was tied tightly round with a rough piece of cord, [the assistant] remarked…‘That is no good Sir, it is only old poetry.’ [Railton] unloosened the string, opened the book, and at a glance saw what a treasure was found.”

Not only was it a 1623 First Folio of Shakespeare’s complete works, its title page bore the inscription: Ex dono Willi Iaggard Typographi. anno. 1623—it was a gift from the printer, William Jaggard, given the same year it came off the press.

Despite being in “tatters,” the volume retained its front cover, which bore the arms of Augustine Vincent, an English herald who had helped Jaggard defend his skill as a printer in a 1622 publication.⁴

Railton recognized the significance of the association with the First Folio’s printer and with men living at the time of its publication. He showed the volume to Sibthorp and was permitted to bring it to London for repairs. Some months later, the First Folio returned to Canwick Hall where it remained for another 8 years before attracting greater attention.

Spring 1899. London and New York

y 1899, Henry Folger had been collecting rare books for over a decade. He’d purchased his first First Folio in 1891. Sotheran & Co. was one of Henry’s regular choices for a London agent, and he’d been working with A. B. Railton for several years—it had been Railton who secured the Warwick Library collection of Shakespeareana for Henry in early April 1897 before it went to auction.

In the spring of 1899, Railton brought the Vincent First Folio to Henry’s attention. In a letter discussing other auctions and purchases, Railton mentioned the text of a lecture recently given by the English Shakespearian scholar Sidney Lee about First Folios and their known owners, noting that an article on the same topic would soon be published in the Cornhill Magazine. Railton lamented that “At last my great friend has been made public. I had rather it had not as I fear all chance of purchasing the precious gem is now lost as there is a strong feeling that the British Museum must have it sooner or later…the copy as described by him is the property of Mr Sibthorp in whose coach house I found it all in tatters.”⁵

Railton’s next letter to Henry enclosed a copy of Lee’s article, which didn’t “refer to any shortcomings in the volume” though his own “recollection [wa]s tolerably clear as to adding certain leaves & having others mended,” which he admitted detracted from the “pecuniary value” but didn’t “affect in the slightest its unique character and interest beyond measure.”⁶

By ‘unique character and interest,’ Railton was referring to the volume’s association with men who were alive a mere 7 years after Shakespeare. With a provenance traceable all the way back to Augustine Vincent in 1623 and having been received from Jaggard, the copy’s status as an artifact was greatly elevated. In the absence of manuscripts of Shakespeare’s works in his own hand, this copy was the ultimate prize. And as Railton reported, Lee’s article “put hounds upon the track” causing “Mr Sibthorp [to be] sorely tempted” to sell the volume. Sibthorp promised that if he fell to the hounds he would sell to Sotheran & Co. But Railton cautioned Henry that the price would be high: “£1000 will not do it—a long way above.”⁷ (In 1899, £1,000 was equivalent to $4,780 and today would be over $177,000.⁸)

Mid-1899. London and New York

n May 3, Henry received a telegram saying: “Approached about folio do you wish it.” Sibthorp had fallen to the hounds.⁹

Two days later Henry’s telegram asked: “Any progress Sibthorp.” Railton responded: “Owner replies five thousand pounds which I take to be prohibitive.”¹⁰ A letter from Railton further explained that Sibthorp didn’t want to sell but had twice been asked to name a price. Eventually, he named £5000 hoping the exorbitant price would be too steep for potential buyers. Railton commented, “As I anticipated, Mr Lee’s article has advertised the volume and made its character known; I may go further to say that Shakespearian students look up it as a ‘National Treasure’ and desire its retention here.”¹¹ In other words, its acquisition would be no easy task.

Henry’s next telegram to Railton, sent on June 25, instructed him to “Offer Sibthorp up to Four Thousand Pounds half cash half January first.”¹² The offer, below Sibthorp’s asking price, reveals Henry’s penchant for bargaining. The telegram bears an insertion of “up to,” leaving open the possibility of paying less than the £4000 he offered. (In 1899, £4000 was equivalent to $19,480, which today is over $710,000.) Offering “half cash” immediately was a strategy Henry used regularly since it strongly appealed to many English sellers whose wealth was tied up in property rather than ready cash.

July 1899. London and New York

n early July, the men exchanged another series of telegrams. The first from Railton notified Henry that Sibthorp was abroad in Stavanger, Norway, implying negotiations for the sale would be slowed down.¹³ Another informed Henry that Sibthorp had declined his offer. The same telegram urged Henry to make a “cash offer full price hopeless otherwise.”¹⁴ A third from Henry expressed his opinion that £4000 was enough. Still, he asked that they speak to Sibthorp in person and gave them leeway to offer £4500 with the same two-payment conditions. He even went so far as to tell them that if Sibthorp’s price was a firm £5000 they could offer £2000 cash and £3000 January first. He also wanted the purchase kept secret.¹⁵

The final telegram in the series informed Henry that they were “Obliged to offer full price” but that Sibthorp had accepted the “offer five thousand clear.”¹⁶ A letter sent by Railton a few days later cautioned that they “do not anticipate [that Sibthorp] will part with the volume until the full amount is paid” but concluded with their hearty congratulations on securing the “precious treasure.”¹⁷ On July 21, 1899, Henry sent the first £2000 installment.

That the purchase be kept secret benefited both Henry and Sibthorp. For Henry, it ensured that the incredibly high price he was paying for a First Folio would not be connected to his name and would thus enable him to continue buying other folios and Shakespeareana at market prices rather than inflated ones. For Sibthorp, it allayed his own anxiety about the sale becoming public since “Some of [his] Friends & Acquaintances [would] be extremely mortified to hear that the Book…is likely to go out of England.”¹⁸

Second half of 1899. Canwick Hall, London, and New York

he next three and half months were spent hammering out the details of the exchange. Sibthorp agreed to installments but placed a limit on the timeframe, setting January 1, 1900 as the deadline. As Railton predicted, Sibthorp “decline[d] to give up possession of the Shakespeare” before receiving the full payment. Finally, Sibthorp wanted assurance from Sotheran & Co. that he “be relieved of all further responsibility as to its safety” once he deposited the volume with them, at which point their American client would “bear any loss or damage, should any misfortune happen to the Book.”¹⁹

Despite Henry’s desire for the volume to be placed in a safe deposit box immediately, Railton reported that Sibthorp had “conceived quite a passion for this particular volume and desire[d] to retain it in his own possession at Canwick Hall right up to the last minute.” Railton also warned Henry that “no pressure or argument could affect [Sibthorp]…not because of Cash” but because of his attachment to the book itself.²⁰

As the summer dragged into autumn, Henry anxiety increased and on September 12, he instructed Railton to “Pay Sibthorp” even if he wouldn’t concede to placing it in a safe deposit box. A letter from Railton in October informed Henry that “Mr Sibthorp is not to be moved…even by additional payment” and that he thought it best to cease writing to Sibthorp about the matter but promised to discuss it if “there is a possibility of…seeing him at Canwick Hall.” In Railton’s view, it was more prudent to deal with the English gentleman face to face.²¹

By November, Railton had convinced Sibthorp to part with the First Folio. Railton reported that he “received it from [Sibthorp’s] own hands yesterday morning” (November 10) and that it was in the same condition he’d returned it to Sibthorp in 1891 but was now “enclosed in a morocco case.” Railton placed the book in the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit “in a private locker.” Railton also informed Henry that Mrs. Sibthorp “expressed…her great regret at seeing the last of the volume” since it was “much against her wish…that it [wa]s leaving Canwick Hall.”²²

This November letter also included a copy of an assessment of the volume prepared in February 1899 by Alfred W. Pollard, then an assistant in the department of printed books at the British Museum. Railton had no idea that Pollard’s report would add to the doubt another rare book dealer had planted in Henry’s mind that same month.

Late 1899. London and New York

ailton’s next letter indicates that Henry had, in the meantime, expressed concern over the condition of the volume. Railton was surprised that anyone who had seen and handled it “should express such a strong adverse opinion” and he hoped Pollard’s report had arrived and “allayed [Henry’s] anxiety on this score.” Later correspondence reveals that Frank Augustus Wheeler, who was acting manager of the London antiquarian bookstore J. Pearson & Co., had visited Henry to show him some Shakespeareana he had for sale and called the Sibthorp copy “a bust of a book.”²³

Henry’s reply to Railton attempted to explain his position; namely, that he had “bought the volume depending on two representations”: (1) Lee’s article and (2) Railton’s own description of it being an “‘uncut copy.’” Here, “uncut” meant that it hadn’t been trimmed, or cut down, and re-bound as many other First Folios had been. Henry reminded Railton that he’d “made the volume complete” with supplied pages back in 1891. Additionally, Pollard’s description noted that two leaves were supplied in facsimile, which Henry reported “shocked me greatly.”²⁴

This was not the complete volume Henry had thought it was. Calling “the book badly defective,” he reasoned that “such a loss of value must be at least equal to the cost of replacing the leaves from another copy,” which he estimated would cost £1000. As such, he requested that the missing leaves be supplied (his preference) or that he “be given a money allowance in the purchase sum on account of them”—meaning he wanted Sibthorp to take £1000 off the price.²⁵

In early December, Sotheran & Co. extended Henry’s request to Sibthorp by sharing Henry’s letter with him verbatim.

December 1899. London

he reply from Sibthorp, via Railton, came on December 11 by telegram: “Owner declines reducing price will return deposit if not paid this year.” Railton also wrote to Henry conveying his side of things and trying to appease his valuable client. Railton explained that since he wasn’t able to inspect the volume in early 1899, he had relied on his memories from 1891 and then Lee’s article. Lee, Railton stated, was “a gentleman of great literary attainments but unfortunately [wa]s not a Bibliographer, consequently…[he had not] described the volume as a Bibliographer or even an expert Bookseller would have done.”²⁶

Recognizing Henry’s concern, Railton and Sotheran “turned over the volume leaf by leaf” so that they could provide Henry with a full collation. Despite the additional defects listed, Railton maintained that “the copy is without exception the most interesting one at present extant; whether it is worth the price is an open question and rests wholly for your decision.”²⁷

Time was of the essence now. By the date of Railton’s letter, December 13, Henry had eighteen days before the initial time limit of the deal expired. Eighteen days for correspondence to cross the ocean and during which fell not only three weekends but also the Christmas and New Year’s holidays.

December 1899. New York and London

he Folger Library records include two versions of a letter to Railton dated December 22 in which Henry was grappling with his next move. The “not sent” draft is argumentative and direct. The draft that got marked “sent” is polite and riddled with deletions and insertions, further illustrating the care he took to word things with as much tact as he could muster despite his frustration. Henry noted that the final payment of £3000 should already have reached Sotheran & Co. and that it “completely protects” Sibthorp. Henry instructed Railton to give Sibthorp his name and address should Sibthorp feel otherwise.

Henry’s decision to reveal himself was so that he could inspect the volume before the transaction was completed, which was becoming common in the Folgers’ collecting practice. They wanted to verify against their growing knowledge of hand-press printing and the antiquarian tendencies to clean and/or sophisticate copies that the items they were purchasing had been faithfully described. If Sibthorp agreed to the inspection, Railton was to send the volume and Henry would immediately cable notice of its receipt. To Henry, this was “so natural a request” he was confident Sibthorp would approve.²⁸

On December 27, Henry telegrammed to remind Railton he’d sent the money on the 19th but instructed him to pay nothing until they received the letter of the 22nd. Upon receipt of that telegram on the 28th, Sotheran & Co. wrote to Sibthorp letting him know the money was enroute but that they were to wait to proceed, which they expected “at the beginning of next week”—meaning the first week of January—and that they would “at once communicate” with Sibthorp about the sale. A letter dated December 30th informed Henry of the delayed receipt of the money and that Sotheran & Co. was still waiting for his letter of the 22nd “before taking further action.” That was the last Saturday of 1899.²⁹

Trans-Atlantic mail delays, coupled with Henry’s late request to change the terms of the agreement, meant that 1899 closed without the final £3000 reaching Sibthorp.

Read the thrilling conclusion to this tale in Part 2