I recently had the great good fortune to browse the few items of Denton’s archives that weren’t shipped across the Atlantic when the University of Texas acquired Denton’s copyright shortly after his death. A small archive is held in the Special Collections department at the University of Exeter.
When I say small, I mean small.
Universities are mysterious and full of promise to me. I was never a full time student, choosing to go straight into work instead, and studying for my degree through the Open University. So I was excited to soak up the student buzz, but as it turned out (and unsurprisingly, I guess) I saw very few people on my walk to the Old Library, and I had the reading room to myself. Having puffed my way up the hill from the station, I was met by the incredibly helpful librarian, who waved his hand at a trolley behind him and said “I believe this is what you’ve come to see?”
It was a sturdily flimsy-looking grey box, about the size of an Amazon delivery box when you’ve ordered a pen refill but the packer fancies giving you a mile of scrunched-up paper to make sure it doesn’t break. About two feet by three feet, and about a foot high. I stared at the box over the librarian’s shoulder while he asked me lots of security / COVID questions and explained the rules of accessing the special collection archives. One item at a time – I can’t have the whole box because it’s shared with another archive – I can only take a pencil and a notebook into the reading room with me – I can’t take any pictures of anything – I must wave at him when I’m ready for the next item.
Hugely disappointed that I couldn’t take any pictures, I shuffled round the librarian’s desk to peer into the box and choose my first item. It all looked so innocuous – files and notebooks. This could be a box of old school books in anybody’s loft. But this was Denton Actual Welch’s Actual archives. I had no idea what I was going to see. I was too excited to think clearly, so I decided to start from the top and work down. This meant starting with three photograph albums – one large, one medium and one small. Like Goldilocks, I didn’t think twice about the first photograph album I wanted to see – I went big.
The librarian showed me to my desk. It was all very polite and formal. He thoughtfully gave me a magnifying glass and a large sloping piece of solid grey foam to rest the archive items on, so I wouldn’t need to hunch over the desk all afternoon. He placed the photograph album reverently on the foam. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I smiled up at him through my mask, even as I waited impatiently to be left alone so I could fall greedily upon my first archive of the day. My fingers hovered over the corner of the album, all ready to whip it open, when the librarian gestured carelessly over my shoulder and said “By the way, that’s Daphne du Maurier’s writing desk”.
What?
A little discombobulated, head full of Denton, I turned to look at the desk next to me. It was all set up as though Daffers had just nipped away to answer the front door. The first page of “Rebecca” lay on top of the desk. As added bonuses go, this was pretty special. But I was there for Denton. I had a three-hour slot to consume everything in the archive. There was no time to waste, and I opened the large, slender album.
Reader, I’d love to tell you that it was a momentous occasion, that it took my breath away, that it felt as though Denton and I had our heads bent together over the same thing. But it didn’t. There was one A4 photograph in the album, and it was a well-known picture of Denton sitting next to one of his angels at Middle Orchard. Seen it. Booooo. Next!
I chose the medium photograph album next. And here it was. Here was my first Find. It was 15 year-old Denton’s photo journal of his summer travelling through England with his father. It was the summer of 1930, the summer in which the events of In Youth Is Pleasure took place. There’s nothing in there that relates directly to In Youth Is Pleasure, but it’s a lovely read nonetheless.
The album has a black, hardback cover. The pages are a nondescript colour that could be grey or could be green, reminding me of Denton coldly correcting Matron in Southcourt nursing home when she compliments him on his nice grey suit. “It’s a sort of greenish tweed”, he tells her in a gruff voice.
Denton has signed his name on the inside cover in fountain pen – D. Welch – and has laid out the album meticulously. There are four pages per town; on the left hand page, Denton has stuck a map of the town centre; the right hand page there are four to six neatly mounted, credit card-sized photographs,; on the third page Denton has written a short description of the town, and the final page has more photographs.
The photographs look professional, rather than holiday snaps. Portable cameras were certainly available in 1930, but perhaps local shops also sold a range of stock photographs for tourists to buy. Denton’s photographs are mounted on printed white frames with grey cardboard corner mounts. But never mind all that – I expect you’re wondering where Denton travelled.
It was a little shock when I opened the album and saw Stratford-upon-Avon was their first port of call. It’s a town I know well, as my parents live there, so it was personally very interesting to see photographs of Stratford 90 years ago, and to see the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre rather than the RSC. Denton writes very neatly in his fountain pen:
“Here Shakespeare was born on April 23rd 1564. His birthplace can still be seen also the old grammar school where he was educated, he was buried in the Parish church. About a mile out of Stratford is Anne Hathaway’s cottage, Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway in 1582. We travelled here on 29 July 1930.”
As well as Stratford, Denton visited Winchester, Oxford (where Denton’s brother Bill was at university), Salisbury (where readers of In Youth Is Pleasure will remember that Denton stole a lipstick), Horsham (where Denton’s grandfather lived), Chichester, Teignmouth and Brooklands Motor Course. However, he didn’t chart their travels in chronological order; Horsham is dated 13 September, and Teignmouth 26 August.
I’m curious about lots of things. How did this important album escape being part of the archives sent to Texas? To whom did Denton give the album? Why didn’t he include anything about his time at the Oatlands Park hotel? As with most Denton questions, all things I’ll probably never know.
I spent far too long with this album, so the rest of the afternoon was spent flicking quickly through things that I should have luxuriated in for hours. But that’s for next time… The librarian very kindly allowed me an extra fifteen minutes so that I could at least review everything in the archive, if not read it in detail. We grumbled about the main archive being held in Texas – it turned out that the librarian has been to the Harry Ransom Centre, which holds Denton’s archive and many other British authors. We said our friendly farewells (possibly au revoirs), and I headed back out to empty Exeter.
Next time, the small photograph album – and the rest of the archive.
What a treat getting to see those items! What a shame no photos are allowed – the only bit of the collection I’ve seen is a page of some doodles and a few lines of poetry (I’m going to be generous and call them that).
I think the real star of the collection has to be the two notebooks containing the drafts of “Maiden Voyage”. It would be fascinating to see what his first thoughts were on the Repton section and the later China sections (especially where he discovers the boxing ring).
Michael D. said that Helen Roeder reported to him that Denton’s personal papers were in a disorganised mess after his death – partly because Denton’s final deterioration occurred at Christmas and the house was in disarray anyway, and partly because everything was moved around for nursing purposes. So concerned was she that his journals might get lost amongst it all, she asked Eric Oliver if she might borrow them and keep a typed copy. This of course was prior to Oliver selling the vulk of the papers to the book dealer. Who could have better advised him?
My thoughts always go to Roeder, Maurice Cranston or Noel Adeney. Helen Roeder and her partner Carel Weight would surely have been preference number one. Weight donated one of Denton’s paintings to the Royal Academy, and I’m sure had Helen Roeder bought the papers, they’d now be in the British Library or the National Archives. So why didn’t she? The truth may be that Eric Oliver did not contact Denton’s friends in the weeks and months after his death – maybe approaches were made to him, maybe he didn’t respond.
Academically, Maurice Cranston would have been the ideal, far better than Jocelyn Brooke at providing some sort of scholarly editions of his works, but when I asked his widow about this, her view was that he’d just have been too busy with his own work – but surely he could have offered Oliver some advice? Maybe it was never asked for.
Noel Adeney – Denton’s true ‘other half’ in my view – would perhaps have been the least careful custodian. Not through lack of interest, but just because she was pretty delusional at the best of times – the papers might have suffered a retro-fit that would have required a forensic sorting out! An outlier might have been Peggy Kirkaldy, but would she have had the financial wherewithal let alone the inclination, to take Denton’s literary estate on?
I think the reason why Exeter has this small collection is perhaps down to the fact that Eric Oliver had no real idea what he was selling at any given time. The juvenilia clearly ended up along with this other non-literary personal effects, but the detachment of the “Maiden Voyage” drafts and the final draft, which is now in the British Library, is surely down to plain carelessness – they were just elsewhere when Oliver sold off the bulk of Denton’s papers. My guess is that Ronald Smolden was in the right place at the right time to get the manuscripts and albums from Sims (I’m not sure where he got the two drafts of the short stories from – he was an avid collector so I’m sure he had plenty of contacts) or perhaps whoever was in charge at Austin determined they were not worth going after at that time. Again, who knows?
A fascinating read though!
Thank you so much, Stephen, I can always rely on you for the inside gossip! Yes, it was such a treat to see and hold things written in Denton’s very own hand, and to browse through just a few of his treasured possessions. I was delighted to have the reading room to myself. It felt like such an intimate afternoon, and I didn’t want people around me peering over my shoulder.
I’ll talk about MV and the other items next time, and I’m already looking forward to more of your insights! ☺️