The Archivist’s Nook: A Garden for Catholic Girls – The History of St. Rose’s Technical School

A statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary on the property of St. Rose’s Technical School, 1939. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

In the north-west part of Washington DC, there was a school that educated and housed girls who had nowhere else to turn. Founded in 1868 by the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, the school’s focus was girls from the ages of 14 to 18 who were orphans and in need of educational and spiritual guidance. In 1928, the head of the school, Sr. Mary Gabriel, said that “children from 14 to 18 years of age need loving care and supervision more than at any other period in their lives. Their lifetime habits and characteristics begin to crystalize during this formative period”[1]. The Sisters of Charity directed every aspect of the girls’ lives, from their studies to their spiritual growth to their recreational activities. This guided approach was implemented in order to “make of them capable self-respecting Christian women”[2]. When the school year was not in session, the Sisters would take the girls to Camp Saint Rose in Mayo, Maryland. The students would be able to go to the beach, play games, and enjoy some well-deserved rest.

Pictures of Camp St. Rose, 1936. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

Celebrating Mass in their chapel, Rosa Mystica, a number of chaplains served the community and school until its closing in June of 1946. The first chaplain was Cardinal Bonaventure Cerretti, who started his service at the school in 1910 until 1916 when Archbishop John A. Floersch, D.D. took over. The student newspaper recounted an amusing anecdote from the inaugural cleric, quoting “that Monsignor C[h]eretti confessed his real motive in stopping to offer his services was an ‘honest-to-goodness’ breakfast”[3]. Other chaplains who served the school were Bishop George Leo Leech, D.D., J.C.D., Rt. Rev. Msgr. Francis Edward Hyland, Bishop Leo Binz, and Very. Rev. Msgr. Donald M. Carroll, J.C.D. Not only would the priests celebrate Mass for the students and Sisters, but they would also celebrate the sacrament of marriage for students who had found love. 

The Chapel of St. Rose’s Technical School, photo taken between 1935 and 1940. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

Many of the girls who attended St. Rose’s Technical School went on to lead successful personal and professional lives! Some got married, so entered the religious vocation and some continued their education. Examples of the schools that St. Rose’s graduates went on to study at St. Joseph’s, Dunbarton College, and Trinity College. Many of the students also went on to become nurses at Providence Hospital, St. Agnes Hospital, and Jenkins Hospital[4].

St. Rose’s Technical School Library, n.d. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

As time went on though, enrollment dropped. There was an effort to bring in “day students” who would not be living at the school, but who could participate in the institution’s stellar academics program. In a letter written to Archbishop Curley of Baltimore in 1945, Sister Serina, the President of St. Rose’s Technical School, laid out the predicament that faced the school: “At present, however, our registration is much smaller than in former years, people are better able to provide for their children and demands for total care of adolescent girls are fewer. In light of these and other impinging factors, superiors of our community have suggested that we offer our excellent school facilities to other girls who could not afford the higher tuition elsewhere”[5]. Although this plan was approved by Archbishop Curley, it did not last very long. The Community Chest, the organization that helped fund the school, approved the plans to accept day students (for the price of $10 a month!) but soon expressed concerns about the growing cost to fund the burgeoning student population. At a special meeting held on January 21 of 1947, it was decided to shut down the school and transfer the property to St. Ann’s Infant Home. In a letter to the Director of the Community Chest, the Sisters echo the reasons for the decline in attendance and the closure of the school, “due largely to Social Security and other forms of government endowment, combined with the fact that girls today are equipped at an earlier age to meet life’s problems”[6]. With these daunting social and economic changes, the school was officially shut down on July 25, 1947. The Sisters who worked at the school were sent to serve in other ministries and the remaining girls who could not support themselves were transferred to Saint Vincent’s Home.

A room within St. Rose’s Technical School, n.d. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

St. Rose’s Technical School operated for less than 80 years, but in that time the Sisters made a significant impact on the lives of young orphan girls. With no other place to go, the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul nurtured and taught generations of future nurses, professionals, Sisters, wives, and mothers. To learn more about the impact of St. Rose’s Technical School, please read Dr. Maria Mazzenga’s blog post on the scrapbook that the students put together during World War II.

For more information, check out our Finding Aid on Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC!

 

 

 

Citations:

[1] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2 

[2] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2

[3] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2

[4] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2

[5] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2

[6] ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University, Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, Box 48, Folder 2

 

 

The Archivist’s Nook: Long Live Organized Women

This August will mark the one hundredth anniversary of the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment, which states that no citizen of the United States shall be denied the right to vote “on account of sex.”

First National Convention of the National Council of Catholic Women (NCCW), 1921. The text accompanying the photograph specifies that, “The picture printed herewith was taken on the grounds of the White House” (NCCW, Box 184, Folder 2). Second from right: Mrs. F. E. Mackentepe, Province of Cincinnati. Fourth and fifth from right: Mrs. W. J. O’Toole, Province of St. Paul; and Mrs. Teresa M. Molamphy, Province of Philadelphia.

The history of women’s suffrage is closely allied with the abolitionist and the temperance movements of the early 19th century—antebellum struggles in which women figured prominently (especially women guided by religious principles). In the aftermath of the Civil War, women’s suffrage gained momentum, but its activists were divided among several rival organizations: most notably, the National Woman Suffrage Association (NWSA) and the American Woman Suffrage Association (AWSA). The 1890 founding of the National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA) braided the NWSA and AWSA together—presenting a united front that propelled women’s rights agitation into a mass movement. Arguably, though, the more radical National Woman’s Party (NWP)—which was formed in 1916 and made the controversial decision to continue picketing the White House despite the war effort—played the decisive role in getting a constitutional amendment passed.

If the zeitgeist of the Progressive Era (1890-1920) was the coalescence of social, political, and economic reform movements into bureaucratic organizations, then women’s suffrage embodied it. Not coincidentally, many organizations of Catholic laywomen also trace their roots to the turn of the 20th century. The Catholic University of America (CUA) Archives is the official repository for several prominent organizations of Catholic laywomen, including the Christ Child Society (1887, chartered in 1903), the Daughters of Isabella (1897), the Catholic Daughters of the Americas (1903), the National Conference of Catholic Charities (1910), the International Federation of Catholic Alumnae (1914), and the National Council of Catholic Women (1920).

Three early board members of the NCCW, all also pictured in the preceding photograph of the First National Convention. Clockwise from left: Mrs. Teresa M. Molamphy, Province of Philadelphia; Mrs. W. J. O’Toole, Province of St. Paul; and Mrs. F. E. Mackentepe, Province of Cincinnati. See NCCW, Box 185, Folder 8.

Although Christian goodwill informed much of the moral impetus behind reforms of the Progressive Era, that Christianity was often of a decidedly Protestant variety. The 19th and early 20th centuries were marked by fierce prejudice against Catholics, which was only exacerbated by the dramatic uptick in Irish, Italian, and Polish immigrants in the 1890s. The upshot: Catholics mirrored the wider trends of the Progressive Era in their own sphere.

The Catholic University of America (CUA) has direct ties to three of the above-listed organizations of Catholic laywomen. Brief overviews follow in chronological order.

A pair of glasses rests on a page of the Proceedings of the First National Conference of Catholic Charities held at The Catholic University of America, September 25-28, 1910. See Catholic Charities USA, Box 237, Folder 27.

The National Conference of Catholic Charities—today’s Catholic Charities USA—was founded on the campus of Catholic University in 1910. As Dr. Maria Mazzenga, Curator of the American Catholic History Research Center, notes in this 2017 blog post, “Catholic laywomen dominated the early membership.”

The International Federation of Catholic Alumnae (IFCA), founded in 1914, was headquartered in Washington, D.C. on the campus of CUA until the 1960s. Upon the completion of the IFCA finding aid in 2013, University Archivist and Head of Special Collections W. J. Shepherd explained IFCA’s “deep connections to Catholic University as benefactors”—most notably through the endowment of the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Chair in Education.

Meanwhile, the National Council of Catholic Women (NCCW) ran the National Catholic School of Social Service between 1921 and 1947—a women’s school which was officially folded into the men’s school at CUA after many years of parallel association. As we commemorate the centenary of women winning the vote, the NCCW, established in 1920, is also celebrating its one hundredth anniversary.

For more on Catholic women, please see the research guide Special Collections — Catholic Women Resources.

OLL Blog – Entre Manhattan e Rio de Janeiro: O caso do periódico O Novo Mundo (1870-1879) – Alessandra Carneiro

Capa de O Novo Mundo com a imagem de Manhattan com a ponte do Brooklyn ao fundo: vol IV, nº43, 23/04/1874. Hemeroteca Digital, Biblioteca Nacional.

Entre Manhattan e Rio de Janeiro: O caso do periódico O Novo Mundo (1870-1879)

Alessandra Carneiro

Doutora em Letras pela USP

Um veículo de informação e cultura que promova o american way of life no Brasil não soa incomum no mundo globalizado do século XXI, mas não deixa de despertar interesse e curiosidade quando se trata do século retrasado. O Novo Mundo: Periodico Illustrado do Progresso da Edade foi publicado pela primeira vez em 24 de outubro de 1870 e desde 2012 pode ser consultado na Hemeroteca digital da Biblioteca Nacional do Rio de Janeiro. No entanto, manusear um original do periódico é um privilégio que pude ter na Oliveira Lima Library, em 2013, durante meu estágio de doutorado sanduíche financiado pela Capes/Fulbright, nos Estados Unidos. O tamanho grande, a beleza das imagens e o bom estado de conservação de O Novo Mundo impressionam e, sem dúvida, tornam o trabalho com ele muito mais prazeroso.

 Editado em língua portuguesa entre 1870 e 1879, o jornal era impresso em Manhattan e enviado mensalmente aos seus assinantes no Rio de Janeiro. Inicialmente, o fluminense José Carlos Rodrigues mantinha o periódico sozinho, ocupando-se de todas as funções necessárias para a produção e circulação, mas, posteriormente, importantes intelectuais brasileiros contribuíram para a folha, como o poeta maranhense Sousândrade. As matérias de O Novo Mundo (ONM) eram bastante diversificadas, visto que os seus 108 volumes publicados abordam, por exemplo, literatura, política, protestantismo, economia, ciências etc. Era declarado que o escopo do periódico não era publicar notícias atuais, mas discutir os princípios, a política e o progresso da república estadunidense. Assim, o seu intuito era um só: oferecer ao Brasil um exemplo de nação próspera na América que pudesse lhe servir de exemplo de modernização.

 Vale ressaltar que nessa época o Brasil ainda era uma monarquia escravocrata e essencialmente agrária, ao passo que os Estados Unidos – uma república livre e democrática após a Guerra de Secessão (1861-1865) – atravessavam um período marcado pela expansão econômica, além da acelerada urbanização, industrialização e inovação tecnológica. Desse modo, o periódico incentivava a ida de brasileiros aos EUA para conhecer o seu modelo de prosperidade in loco. Nesse sentido, ONM publicava assiduamente propaganda das oportunidades de formação acadêmica existentes nos EUA, tendo Rodrigues, inclusive, assumido a tarefa de guiar e aconselhar estudantes brasileiros recém chegados em Nova York, muitos dos quais se dirigiam à Universidade de Cornell para estudar Engenharia.

Edifício do New York Times onde também ficava a redação de ONM: Vol.4, nº45, 23/06/1874. Pág 162. The Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

Foi também possivelmente incentivado por Rodrigues que Sousândrade mudou para NY em 1871 levando uma de suas filhas para estudar (CARNEIRO, 2016). O poeta contribuiu com algumas publicações assinadas no periódico e manteve anonimamente a coluna Notas Literárias. Ele foi nomeado vice-presidente de ONM em 1875, permanecendo no cargo até 1879. Sousândrade corroborou uma das constantes do jornal que era criticar abertamente o Império brasileiro por meio de publicações concernentes abolição da escravidão.  Por exemplo, em novembro de 1871 foi publicada uma correspondência do poeta intitulada ironicamente A emancipação do Imperador, que refletia sobre a divulgação distorcida da promulgação da Lei do Ventre Livre de 28 de setembro daquele mesmo ano. Uma notícia publicada no jornal Herald de NY atribuía a Dom Pedro II o mérito pelo protagonismo ruma à abolição da escravidão, ao que Sousândrade reagiu ferozmente argumentando que não era iniciativa do Imperador, mas um clamor do povo que ele prudentemente ouviu e que inclusive ameaçava a monarquia. 

No mesmo tom crítico, na edição de março de 1872 saiu o artigo O Estado dos índios no qual Sousândrade condenava o descaso do Império brasileiro pela situação degradante em que viviam os nativos das comunidades ribeirinhas do Amazonas. O argumento do poeta nesse artigo era que o governo deveria investir mais em missionários e educadores capacitados para atuarem junto aos autóctones porque, se bem preparados, eles seriam trabalhadores livres mais adequados à substituição do trabalho escravo, na iminência do seu fim. Para endossar sua opinião sobre a colonização do sertão brasileiro utilizando os próprios nativos, Sousândrade cita no mesmo artigo o naturalista amigo de Rodrigues Charles Frederick Hartt, professor na Universidade de Cornell, que teria voltado do Amazonas há pouco e concluído que o índio seria melhor elemento de população que os imigrantes europeus, pois seriam mais inteligentes que, por exemplo, os irlandeses que emigravam para os

Colégio do Sagrado Coração, instituição de ensino católica voltada para meninas onde estudou a filha de Sousândrade, Maria Bárbara. Vol. II, nº14, 24/11/1871, pág. 25. Hemeroteca Digital, Biblioteca Nacional.

EUA.

Além de Sousândrade, outros homens de letras importantes contribuíram para a revista de Rodrigues, como o engenheiro André Rebouças, Salvador de Mendonça (nomeado cônsul geral do Brasil em NY em 1876) e o ilustre Machado de Assis. No caso deste último, houve uma única publicação feita sob encomenda de Rodrigues no volume de março de 1873: Notícia da atual literatura brasileira – Instinto de Nacionalidade; mas que causou impacto pelo seu posicionamento crítico ao romantismo brasileiro e à dependência ao referencial cultural europeu ainda em voga no Brasil. Considerando o afinamento de Rodrigues com as ideias aventadas por Machado, já se argumentou que a importância de ONM para a literatura brasileira se daria por constituir um suporte relevante da transição entre as tendências literárias românticas para a realista-naturalista/parnasiana no Brasil. (ASCIUTTI, 2010). 

Portanto, O Novo Mundo congregou brasileiros empenhados em assimilar o que consideravam o caminho que levaria o Brasil retrógrado à modernidade. Esses homens de letras não eram, entretanto, passivos à ideia de americanização da nação, pois antropofagicamente (salvaguardado o anacronismo do termo) buscavam no estrangeiro conhecimentos e ações que pudessem beneficiar o país de modo a torná-lo uma potência socioeconômica na América do Sul que fizesse par com os Estados Unidos. No século XIX, um projeto geopolítico desse calibre para a América configurava-se um contraponto inédito ao poder europeu, por isso a importância de ONM.

Referências 

CARNEIRO, Alessandra da Silva. O Guesa em New York: Republicanismo e Americanismo em Sousândrade. 2016. 214 f. Tese (Doutorado em Literatura Brasileira) – Faculdade de Filosofia, Letras e Ciências Humanas, Universidade de São Paulo, São Paulo, 2016.

ASCIUTTI, Mônica Maria Rinaldi. Um lugar para o periódico O Novo Mundo (Nova York,1870-1879). Dissertação (Mestrado em Letras Clássicas e Vernáculas). São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 2010.

OLL Blog – Reflections on my first semester as OLL Copy-Cataloger – Erin Mir-Aliyev

This Spring semester has been challenging in many ways that we could not have anticipated when 2020 started. The changes have been immense.  Nevertheless, as a community we grew stronger together, adapting, facing and overcoming new obstacles in order to provide our students with the best of us. As we reach the end of the term and reflect on what we have done, I invited our graduate research assistant at The Oliveira Lima Library, Erin Mir-Aliyev, to share her thoughts on her experience . 

Erin is a graduate student in the Library and Information Science Department at The Catholic University of America and the first recipient of the Flora de Oliveira Lima Fellowship for Graduate Students in Library and Information Science. The fellowship honors Manoel de Oliveira Lima’s wife, a bibliophile in her own right who took charge of the library after his passing and left an unequivocal imprint on it. 

 Reflections on my first semester as OLL Copy-Cataloger

Erin Mir-Aliyev  

Master of Science in Library and Information Science – The Catholic University of America

Flora de Oliveira Lima Fellowship for Graduate Students in Library and Information Science – The Oliveira Lima Library

OLL books waiting for their catalog record to be found in OCLC.

Working as a graduate research assistant for the Oliveira Lima Library this spring has been a rewarding experience. Not only have I started to apply first hand in my work what I have been learning in my classes; I have gotten to work in a special collection focusing largely on resources containing information about history and culture, something that allows me to incorporate my social sciences interests and undergraduate degree in anthropology into my library career.

There were many different tools and software programs I’d heard about in my Fall classes, but not having worked in a library since high school, I was not in a position in which I got the chance to use them. As a visual and tactile learner, I was concerned that I was not truly grasping what was being taught. Since beginning to assist the Oliveira Lima Library with processing its collection late last Fall, I have noticed there are three areas in particular where I have learned a lot already and begun to grow more confident: accessing and using OCLC Connexion and Alma, and understanding MARC21.

OCLC Connexion

OCLC is a global library cooperative which provides a tool, OCLC Connexion, through which libraries can create and share their bibliographic records with other libraries. It allows copy-catalogers to find already-existing bibliographic records for their collection’s materials so that librarians don’t have to repeat work that has already been done. Before shadowing a cataloger, I had not realized how long creating one bibliographic record from scratch can take – often over an hour per record. OCLC Connexion has made it possible for me to discover and import into Alma bibliographic records for about 500 books since January, some of which are not very common. As a result, we have been much more efficient than we otherwise would have been at incorporating materials into the library. Going through this process has also allowed me to better understand which elements of a record are the most important for identifying it.

Alma

Alma is a cloud-based platform that allows libraries to manage their catalog by importing and editing bibliographic records found in OCLC. So far, I have completed this process for hundreds of books, as well as creating holding and item records for them. My understanding of the differences between a work, expression, manifestation, and item (as expressed by FRBR) has increased greatly as a result of going through this process. These differences are reflected in the differences between bibliographic, holding, and item records for a specific book. 

MARC

MARC21 is a set of international standards for digital formatting of intellectual and physical traits of bibliographic materials, in my case, books. It struck me as very complicated and difficult to understand while in class, and I have been slowly memorizing the various field codes and formats for descriptions. Copy-cataloging for OLL is a more detail-oriented process than for a lot of collections due to the rare and unique nature of many of its materials, as individual books often contain inscriptions, signatures, or other markings and materials left by people significant to the history of the collection. The MARC fields most significant for cataloging of OLL resources are some fields also commonly used by general collections such as 100 (Main Entry – Personal Name), 245 (Title Statement), and 260 (Publication Information). However, culturally, historically, or biographically important information also needs to be included in the record; other fields like 561 (Ownership and Custodial History), 562 (Copy and Version Identification), and 590 (Local Note) focus on books’ rare and unique traits. This is where I am able to record details about who or what institution previously owned a book, or autographs and bound-in items like letters.

Detail of a book with the OLL stamp.
Example of a book inscribed by Brazilian poet Vinicius de Moraes to OLL’s former Curator Manoel Cardozo in 1963.

As I continue to work into the next semesters, I look forward to being able to learn even more, such as copy-cataloging for books written in other languages, how to classify and manage archival materials, and how to handle, categorize, and catalog artworks.

The Archivist’s Nook: The Catholic University COVID-19 Story Project – A Collection in Real Time

Stories may be shared to a digital archive, safely and remotely.

Due to the current COVID-19 pandemic, the world is undergoing an unprecedented moment in history. This collaborative effort between The Catholic University of America’s Library and Archives endeavors to document the reactions and experiences of members of the Catholic University community to the pandemic. As events continue to unfold, our stories and feelings may be in flux. We are living in a time on which future students and scholars will look back with curiosity and sympathy.

While the official records of the University’s response to this moment are already being collected in the University Archives, the idea behind this project is to paint a more complete picture of the historical moment. We welcome all submissions as small pieces in the larger mosaic of the Catholic University community’s experience of events related to the pandemic. This “collection in real time” will help future researchers study how our community collectively and individually adapted over the course of the pandemic. It will also put a human face on the administrative records from the period, illustrating the humor, fears, struggles, and triumphs across the community.

Studying or working remotely? Performing essential work? Keeping a journal of quarantined life? Trying to remain on top of things? Let us hear from you! (Pictured, student studying on the roof of Gibbons Hall, 1916.)

All members of the community—students, faculty, staff, and alumni—are encouraged to submit their comments and reflections for inclusion in the historical record. These accounts in the moment will help tell the evolving story of the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic.

Please note that these submissions do not have to be one-time-only or created by one person. We invite contributors to continue to update your stories throughout the duration of these events and share contributions involving multiple voices and perspectives. Multimedia submissions—such as video diaries, audio recordings, photographs, and artwork—are welcome, too.

We are interested in stories about:

  • How campus and other closures have impacted your life
  • The transition to online classes
  • Working, studying, or researching during the pandemic
  • How you are staying in touch with family, friends, and your broader community
  • Experiences navigating social distancing, closures, or stay-at-home orders
  • Creative outlets or new routines during the pandemic
  • How your faith may have been impacted by your experience of the pandemic
  • Other changes or events you have witnessed within the University or your local community

To submit your stories, please follow the link to the form. This form will provide a template for submitting and allow you to review information about your rights and consent. It will also allow you to decide whether you would like us to share your story now or archive it for future scholarship. As we collect stories, we will post the accounts of those who wish to make their stories public.

Again, submissions may be submitted via this form. Questions or concerns can be addressed to: lib-archives+covid19@cua.edu

The Archivist’s Nook: Walter Reuther – 50 Years Later

Today’s guest post is authored by Kimball Baker,  former graduate student of the Catholic University History Department.(1)

Walter Reuther with James P. Davis, Bishop of San Juan, at AFL-CIO Meeting in San Juan, Puerto Rico, February 1959. George G. Higgins Papers, Special Collections, The Catholic University of America.

A half-century ago, on May 9, 1970, America lost one of its greatest heroes, United Auto Workers President Walter Reuther, in the crash of a plane whose engine, according to the National Transportation Safety Board, was missing parts and had parts wrongly installed—including one part installed upside down. To this day, there is no conclusive proof of foul play, although it is widely suspected.

This tragedy, and several similar tragedies, occurred amidst a time like today, when progressive social reformers are battling valiantly to promote social justice in every area of American life. Therefore, it behooves us to take a fresh look at Walter Reuther and what he fought for, and to realize the large extent to which today’s workers and worker-justice activists are standing on Reuther’s shoulders.

Reuther, in turn, was standing on the shoulders of the workers and worker-justice reformers who preceded his rise to dominance as a leader in the United Auto Workers (UAW) and the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) during their organizing and 1935 founding. Reuther and his fellow workers and activists saw Industrial unionism as a direct outgrowth of a democratic-socialist vision for the United States, a vision in which workers and other Americans can thwart income inequality and play larger roles in determining their economic and political destinies.

John Brophy laying a CIO wreath with Dan Benedict and Walter Reuther in Mexico. 12/13/1954. John Brophy Papers, Special Collections, The Catholic University of America.

One cannot fully understand worker justice in the 1930s and 1940s without exploring the extent to which unions in those decades were affected by the relationship between the Communist Party of the United States (CPUSA) and its allies, and U.S. socialists and their allies (including the Catholic social-action movement). Communists and socialists were bitter foes long before the 1930s, and except for a brief period of cooperation during the Popular Front era of the 1930s (cooperation which ended with the Nazi-Soviet Pact of August 23, 1939), UAW and other CIO unions were constant battlegrounds. Communist workers everywhere had to follow a line of complete subjugation of worker interests to the war aims and foreign-policy objectives of the Comintern (the Communist Party globally), which still and always included world domination. During World War II, CPUSA-led union factions hampered collective-bargaining activities (already hampered by corporate domination of wartime union-management relationships) by demanding no-strike pledges and extreme production speed-ups, and by downplaying workers’ concerns with low pay, meager benefits, lack of worker input, and unsafe working conditions.

From UAW’s founding, Reuther courageously led the union’s democratic-socialist coalition. He was a member of the Socialist Party in the 1930s until 1938, when he joined the Democratic Party, and he played a major role in UAW going from 30,000 members in 1935 to 400,000 members in 1938. He sought cooperation with the workers of every union faction, and was a veteran of the sit-down strikes and of the bitter three-year-long struggle to organize Ford Motor Company (featuring the famous photo of Reuther bloodied by company goons).

Walter Reuther’s World War II innovations, however, most dramatically exemplify his leadership. His defense-readiness plan was extremely effective, and could serve as a model for dealing with today’s coronavirus. And most significantly, in June 1945 he filed a brief with all war-production agencies recommending that in postwar, “Increased production must be supported by increased consumption, and increased consumption will only be possible through increased wages.” Indeed, he made this recommendation part of UAW’s then-current round of negotiations with General Motors by proposing that the company’s workers be given a 30-percent wage increase and that it not be accompanied by an increase in the price of GM cars. Reuther’s proposal didn’t go through, but it was a ground-breaking challenge to economic inequality in a ground-breaking manner and promises to play a key role in today’s crucial national debates.

Letter of October 24, 1949 announcing a Testimonial Dinner in honor of Walther P. Reuther. Phillip Murray Papers, Special Collections, The Catholic University of America.

Poet Robert Frost speaks of the importance of the “the road not taken”; and America’s not taking the road championed by Reuther set a discouraging tone for the country’s postwar years, when labor had to yield to corporate dominance and the country entered an era of excessive consumer abundance. Reuther was disappointed, but he still fought hard for worker justice (such as by supporting Cesar Chavez and farmworker organizing and by promoting public-sector unions), and he expanded efforts he had long made on other social-justice fronts, including civil-rights struggles, Vietnam War protests, and a greater voice for young people.

Unfortunately, this road called for but not taken has received woefully insufficient attention in the few major biographies of Walter Reuther. Nelson Lichtenstein, for example, in The Most Dangerous Man in Detroit, portrays Reuther after World War II as a champion of corporatism and consumer abundance, a portrayal which insufficiently accounts for Reuther having to row against the anti-labor current of that era and for his increased efforts in non-labor directions. Also, Lichtenstein neglects the positive anti-Communism which Reuther displayed and which helped propel him to the UAW presidency in 1947, helping bring about CIO’s expulsion of 13 CPUSA-led unions in 1949-50. Sadly, positive anti-Communism was soon replaced by the negative anti-Communism of the right wing and of Senator Joseph McCarthy and his ilk.

Ironically, during Reuther’s fight for his innovative challenge, James Matles, President of the CPUSA-led United Electrical Workers-CIO (UE), secretly negotiated with GM on behalf of the 30,000 company workers which UE represented. The UE-GM agreement unfortunately became a basis of the much weaker agreement which UAW eventually had to settle for.

Delegation of American labor leaders, including Walter Reuther, with West German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer, 1960s. Joseph D. Keenan Papers, Special Collections, The Catholic University of America.

In The Wage Earner, a highly-regarded Detroit labor newspaper, the paper’s editor, Paul Weber, commented in October 1945 on the Reuther challenge: “If Reuther succeeds in forcing GM, one of the country’s largest industrial empires, to redivide the fruits of its production, the day of gigantic profits in American business will be done … [T]he result may not be the end of capitalism, but it will certainly be the beginning of a new kind of capitalism.”

 

The actual result, as we know, was swallowed up in the machinations of runaway capitalists and right-wing politicians, who then gave us decades of assaults on workers’ rights to organize and bargain collectively—including, in 1981, President Ronald Reagan’s firing of 12,000 striking members of the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization, or PATCO (see Collision Course, by labor historian Joseph A. McCartin, Oxford University Press, 2011). Such assaults continue today, but thanks to the renewal of the democratic-socialist vision for America’s future, Walter Reuther’s “road not taken” promises to become a wide highway of worker justice and of social justice in general.

 

(1)Kimball Baker is the author of “Go to the Worker”: America’s Labor Apostles (Marquette University Press, 2010). For further reading about Walter Reuther in the 1930s and 1940s, he suggests The UAW and Walter Reuther, Irving Howe and B. J. Widick (Random House, 1949).

OLL Blog – As Servinas na Oliveira Lima Library Parte II – Pablo Iglesias Magalhães

Seguimos com a segunda parte do texto do Professor Pablo Iglesias Magalhães sobre as Servinas da nossa coleção. Se você perdeu a parte I, pode encontrar o texto aqui 

 

As Servinas na Oliveira Lima Library 

Parte II: Serva entre o processo de Independência e o Segundo Império

Pablo Iglesias Magalhães

Professor dos cursos de História, do Programa de Pós-Graduação em Ciências Humanas e Sociais  e Vice-Diretor do Centro das Humanidades da Universidade Federal do Oeste da Bahia.

Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva faleceu no Rio de Janeiro em agosto de 1819. A tipografia já funcionava em sociedade com seu genro José Teixeira de Carvalho, desde junho daquele ano. A sua parte foi herdada pela viúva, Maria Rosa da Conceição Serva, e a oficina de impressão passou a se chamar Typographia da Viuva Serva, e Carvalho (1819-1827).  Diferente da sua primeira fase, na qual operou em uma conjuntura de prosperidade econômica e relativa tranquilidade política em Salvador, a empresa funcionaria em um período turbulento da História da Bahia, assinalado pela Revolução Constitucionalista (fev. 1821), a Guerra de Independência (1822-1823)  e a Revolta dos Periquitos (nov.1824), sendo que, nesta última ocasião, os prelos da Serva foram transportados à bordo da corveta Maria da Glória, para continuar imprimindo papéis do governo na Baía de Todos os Santos. 

Entre 1821 e 1822, a Serva deu prelo a uma série de papéis constitucionais, cujos raríssimos exemplares se encontram dispersos em bibliotecas públicas e coleções particulares no Brasil, Portugal e Estados Unidos. Esse conjunto ainda não recebeu a devida atenção pelos historiadores. Na OLL, há um exemplar das Reflexões sobre o decreto de 18 de fevereiro deste anno offerecidas ao povo da Bahia por Philagiosotero. O folheto com 11 páginas já começa registrando que “se o respeito ao Monarcha he nas Monarchias o primeiro dever do Povo, he tambem certo que huma justa consideração aos direitos do Povo he da obrigação do Principe, e qualquer ataque a estes direitos chama a resistencia legitima de huma Nação contra o mesmo Rey, que desconhece as suas funcções verdadeiras.” Philagiosotero é pseudônimo do paulista Antônio Carlos Ribeiro de Andrada Machado e Silva (1773-1845), que ficou preso por quatro anos na Bahia, por ter tomado parte na Revolução Pernambucana (1817).  Na OLL, ainda consta um exemplar da Relação dos Successos do Dia 26 de Fevereiro de 1821, escrita no Rio de Janeiro em 10 de Junho de 1821 e o controverso folheto Exame Analítico-Crítico da Questão: o Rei, e a Família Real de Bragança devem, nas Circunstâncias Presentes, Voltar a Portugal ou Ficar no Brasil? (1821).

A morte de Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva e as rupturas institucionais e comerciais entre Brasil e Portugal, produzidas pela Independência, interrompeu o fluxo de livros baianos para a Europa. A Typographia de Serva, influenciada por essas transformações, foi gradualmente convertida em uma tipografia nacional e imperial, particularmente a partir de 1828. Naquele ano, os dois filhos de Maria Rosa da Conceição, Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva (1802-1846) e José Antonio da Silva Serva (1808-1878), se associaram a sua mãe e criaram a Typographia da Viuva Serva e Filhos (1828-1836).  Com o encerramento das atividades da Typographia Nacional da Bahia (1823-1831), a Serva passou a cumprir a função de imprimir papéis do governo imperial e provincial. Os impressos baianos daquele período são mais raros do que os da primeira fase da Serva, pois a interrupção na sua exportação fez com que seus papéis circulassem apenas nos trópicos, ficando mais expostos à umidade e insetos. 

Pigault-Lebrun. Monsieur de Kinglin, ou : a presciencia Bahia: Na Impressão da viuva Serva, 1829. Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

As servinas pós-1822 também ficam mais escassas na OLL. Há a segunda novela impressa na Bahia, Monsieur de Kinglin, ou a presciência de Mr. Le Brun. A primeira novela impressa na Bahia fora uma tradução da Atalá (1819), de Chateaubriand, que havia sido impressa pela primeira vez em Lisboa em 1810 e censurada pelas autoridades inquisitoriais portuguesas em 1812. Monsieur de Kinglin também não foi bem vista à época, por não estar de acordo com os padrões morais e religiosos vigentes, tendo, contudo, a peculiaridade de declarar ter sido publicada “Na Impressão da Viuva Serva”.  Até hoje só encontrei dois livros com essa declaração editorial, atribuindo-se exclusivamente à Maria Rosa da Conceição Serva, que é a primeira proprietária de uma casa editorial no Brasil. Poucas foram, contudo, as novelas impressas na Serva e quase todas, se não todas, traduções do francês para o português. 

Na OLL, uma obra da Serva e Filhos se destaca, até o presente, pelo critério da unicidade. São as Reflexões Criticas Sobre a Administração da Justiça em Inglaterra,  tanto no civel como no crime, e sobre o jury, n’uma serie de cartas a um amigo (1829). Não foi possível encontrar outro exemplar dessas Reflexões Criticas, mas ela foi ofertada no Catalogo nº 14, de 1930, da Livraria Coelho, de Lisboa, classificadas in-8º de 34-53-60 páginas, ao preço de 40$00, em brochura. A primeira edição foi tirada na Impressão Régia de Lisboa em 1826 e seu autor foi José Joaquim Ferreira de Moira (c. 1776-1829), apelidado de “Doutor Macaco”, pelo poeta Manoel Maria Barbosa du Bocage. 

Em 1836, a Typographia da Viuva Serva e Filhos se dividiu em duas oficinas, a primeira que continuou na Cidade baixa e outra no Pelourinho, em uma casa na Rua do Bispo, n.o 29, com o nome de Aurora de Serva e Comp. Essa segunda oficina foi administrada pelo filho mais velho do casal Serva. Intelectual modesto, editor competente e impressor talentoso, que, entre 1836 e 1846, conseguiu restabelecer o prestígio e a apurada qualidade gráfica das servinas, comprometida pela baixa qualidade editorial desde a Independência. Serva transferiu sua oficina, após a Sabinada (7 nov. 1837 – mar. 1838), para outra casa, na quina oposta ao Aljube, n.o 6. Essa casa, contudo, foi destruída por um incêndio na madrugada de 31 de agosto de 1840.   

Moira, José J. F. Reflexões Criticas Sobre a Administração Da Justiça Em Inglaterra, Tanto No Civel Como No Crime, E Sobre O Jury, N’uma Serie De Cartas a Um Amigo. Bahia: Serva, 1829. Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva, filho, retornara para o mesmo prédio onde seu pai estabeleceu a imprensa na Bahia, no morgado de Santa Bárbara. Os livros impressos na última fase da oficina em Salvador (1839-1846) são preciosos. Na OLL existe um exemplar de um livro dessa fase, de autoria do próprio Serva, intitulada Exposição das razões que reclamão o tratado de commercio entre o Brasil e Portugal (1843), que foi oferecida a Associação Comercial da Bahia.  Serva, contudo, faleceu repentinamente aos 44 anos, solteiro e sem herdeiros. Sua mãe e irmão mais novo logo venderam a livraria. A Typographia de Serva encerrou seus trabalhos na Cidade da Bahia em 1846.

The Archivist’s Nook: Documenting Student Governance – John P. O’Connor and the National Student Association

Program Cover for July 1955 International Student Conference held in Birmingham, UK.

Today’s post is guest authored by Justin Gould, a MA student in Library and Information Science at Catholic University.

The collection of John P. O’Connor consists of materials collected by the eponymous man ranging from 1937 to 1967. These materials largely represent organizing efforts in student life during the mid-twentieth century, including reports, marketing materials, personal correspondence, and newspaper articles. The experience I had while processing this collection was educational, but also exciting and entertaining at times. 

John Patrick O’Connor was born on December 27, 1931. He graduated from Manhattan College in 1956, and remained active in collecting information about the United States National Student Association (NSA) until 1967. From its inception in 1947, the NSA was a confederation of college and university student governments. In 1967, it would be revealed that much of the NSA’s operations had been secretly funded by the CIA, as a perceived counterweight to Soviet-backed international student groups. While this may have led to O’Connor’s disengagement with the organization, the NSA would disavow its relationship with the CIA and continue operations until 1978.

Two publications – from the University of Wisconsin and Harvard – highlighting the 1947 founding of the United States National Student Association (USNSA)

While exploring the collection, I tried to puzzle out the views and beliefs of Mr. O’Connor, but always found myself unsure. He collected lists, names, and notes of all kinds, meticulously documenting the student organizing scene from the rise of the NSA in the 1940s, formed as a bulwark and western alternative to the International Student Union – a Soviet organ – to various student groups and movements in the 1960s, far beyond his graduation from Manhattan College. He collected official communist newspapers, unaffiliated left-leaning flyers and journals, the works of noted racists and antisemites (in smaller portions), far-right propaganda from the 1950s, and standard, mainstream journalistic retinue. From his correspondence and personal collection the only conclusion I can make is that the man was passionate, bent on understanding and deconstructing the forces behind student groups and student organizing, possibly recognizing that the youth of tomorrow are the greatest force for change.

A 1956 flyer showcasing a regional Congress of the National Federation of Catholic College Students. O’Connor collected materials related to student governmental organizations of all types across the US and internationally.

In the final periods of his collecting, he picked out newspapers from communist and left-leaning groups for their inclusion of articles exposing the influence of the national security apparatus in the student groups he worked in and around during the 1950s. These articles were published in the mid 1960s, and I can only assume the man had all but moved on from the day to day operations of the NSA and its affiliate groups by then. However, he was still fascinated by the mechanisms moving the world around him, and with this I can greatly sympathize.

I made the mistake early on of beginning with a physical inventory instead of a digital one, but that allowed me to make mistakes that would have been difficult to recover from on a digital scheme. When the collection was brought to me there was no original order to be truly found, so a full inventory and subsequent reordering was necessary. It was a task that, were I to do it again, I would start with a digital inventory. It took months, albeit part time, to finish cataloguing everything, and when I came out on the other end I understood vividly why archivists don’t typically do an item level inventory of a collection. Coming in at around 1,450 items, I wished that the collection had lent itself to a more concise way of processing. The completed collection, spanning four boxes, consists of hundreds of individual documents.

USNSA Summer Travel Abroad Poster, ca. 1950s.

The finding aid is available online.

The Archivist’s Nook: “A Shepherd in Combat Boots”: The Life of Father Emil Kapaun

Father Emil Kapaun, a military chaplain who died tragically as a prisoner of war in Korea in 1950, was known as “a shepherd in combat boots,” a perplexing phrase at first blush. How does one reconcile the image of the humble shepherd with that of a soldier in combat boots? Father Kapaun, who was declared a Servant of God in 1993 by Pope John Paul II, embodies both the fighter and the shepherd.

A portrait of Father Emil Kapaun, Servant of God. Image used courtesy of the Diocese of Wichita.

Born on April 20, 1916 to German and Bohemian Catholic parents just outside of Pilsen, Kansas, young Emil grew up laboring on the 160-acre farm where his family raised cows, chickens, pigs, and grew wheat and corn. Summers on the Kansas plains were sweltering hot, and winters, bitterly cold. Serving as an altar boy at Pilsen’s St. John Nepomucene Church, young Emil was influenced in his Catholic faith by the church’s pastor, Father John Sklenar. Witnessing the fervency of his faith as a boy, Father Sklenar, along with his parents, Bessie and Enos Kapaun, apparently marked Kapaun as a priest from a young age. Though young Emil began high school and college at Conception Abbey in northwest Missouri when he was 14, he returned home in the summers to work the fields with his father, brother, and members of the Pilsen farming community. His concentration on his studies was intense, and he did so well in his classes that he was known by his schoolmates as “the Brain.”[1]

Father Emil Kapaun attended The Catholic University of America, 1946-1948. He’s pictured here, left, under the sign. Image used courtesy of the Diocese of Wichita.

After completing his training at Kenrick Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri in 1940, Kapaun was ordained a diocesan priest and assigned to the parish in which he’d grown up. But he had a taste for studying military and political affairs in Europe and elsewhere, writing to his brother Eugene about conflict in Europe throughout his time in the seminary. After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, he witnessed men his own age leaving Pilsen for service and notified his Wichita diocese bishop, Christian Herman Winkelmann, that he felt called to work as a military chaplain. The bishop refused, however, instructing him to remain as Assistant to Father Sklenar at St. John Nepomucene. He followed the events of the war, writing about them in his diary, noting the call for chaplains. He began volunteering part time at the military airfield at nearby Herington, Kansas, and wrote letters to local soldiers. His letters, sermons, and talks to soldiers interwove faith and military service. To one group, his biographer William Maher notes, he preached, “…a Catholic soldier will have his heart set on obedience and faithfulness to duty to service of his country and through that service, to the honor and glory of God.”[2]

Father Kapaun remained at the parish where he had grown up, but he didn’t feel comfortable replacing the priest who had been there more than 50 years, and to whose ways the parishioners had become accustomed. He again petitioned Bishop Winkelmann:

When I was ordained, I was determined to ‘spend myself’ for God. I was determined to do that cheerfully, no matter in what circumstances I would be placed or how hard a life I would be asked to lead. That is why I volunteered for the army and that is why today I would a thousand times rather be working deprived of all ordinary comforts, being a true ‘Father’ to all my people, than by living in a nice comfortable place with with my conscience telling me that I am an obstacle to many.[3]

Bishop Winkelmann finally agreed to allow Father Kapaun to train for a military chaplaincy. Kapaun began his military career in August, 1944 in a class of 145 chaplains. In addition to rigorous physical training involving long marches and calisthenics, Kapaun studied chemical warfare and military sanitation. He enjoyed military life, writing to a friend, “They want to toughen us up in a hurry and I really enjoy it.”[4] Among other things, he learned that he had to promote the religious life of everyone in his unit (no matter the faith tradition), travel from outpost to outpost among scattered troops, and comfort the sick and wounded, all of these instructions he put to use not only during World War Two, but in the Korean War as well. He eventually ended up serving in the China-India-Burma theatre of war operations, also traveling to Bermuda, the Azores, Casablanca, Tripoli, and New Delhi, celebrating mass and ministering to soldiers, refugees, and civilians during this time.[5]

Father Kapaun wrote his master’s thesis on religious schooling in U.S. Secondary Schools, and completed his degree in 1948. This is an image of his thesis’s cover page from the University Archives.

After receiving orders to return to the U.S. in April, 1946, Kapaun conferred with his bishop on furthering his education. He began studies at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. in 1946. A master’s degree in education from the University would qualify him to teach at both Catholic and public schools in Kansas.

But alas, the military life still called him. He wrote his bishop in 1948 that “I believe I should offer myself for work in the Armed Forces, especially in this crisis.”[6] The crisis to which he referred was the uptick in tensions between the U.S. and the Soviet Union over land access to West Berlin. The U.S. responded to the Soviet blockage of the city with its “Berlin Airlift” of supplies to the citizens of the former German capital. He reentered military service in 1948, and after a period of service in U.S.-occupied Japan in 1950, he was assigned to duty as chaplain of the 3rd Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment early in the Korean War. As chaplain, he ministered to the dead, heard confessions, and celebrated mass using the hood of a jeep as an altar.

Kapaun’s story has inspired devotion. For the past 11 years, a pilgrimage is held in his hometown of Pilsen, Kansas in late May. This pamphlet held in the University’s pamphlet collection recounts his story.

Kapaun saved 15 soldiers by dragging them to safety during the Battle of Unsan in November, 1950. He was captured by Chinese soldiers on November 2, 1950, and sent to a prison camp, where he died from illness and malnutrition. For his service and bravery, he was awarded the Medal of Honor by President Barack Obama in 2013 (the 60th anniversary of the end of Korean War). In 1993, Pope John Paul II made Father Kapaun a servant of God, the first stage on the path to canonization.

View the website devoted to Father Kapaun’s Canonization: https://catholicdioceseofwichita.org/father-kapaun/

 

 

[1] William L. Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, Chaplain Emil Kapaun of the 1st Cavalry Division (Shippensburg, PA: Burd Street Press, 1997), chapter 1,38.

[2] Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, 45-49.

[3] Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, 54.

[4] Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, 54.

[5] Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, 56.

[6] Maher, A Shepherd in Combat Boots, 68.

 

OLL Blog – As Servinas na Oliveira Lima Library – Pablo Iglesias Magalhães

 O objetivo do OLL Blog é informar sobre a Oliveira Lima Library e aproximar o público da nossa coleção. Além de destacar itens do acervo e informar sobre as nossas atividades, queremos através do blog apresentar resultados de pesquisas realizadas aqui na OLL. Hoje inauguramos a série de posts com convidados e convidadas que generosamente aceitaram o convite para compartilhar conosco seus trabalhos. Esta seção vai ser tão internacional como é a a OLL, refletindo a variedade de temas, idiomas e perspectivas que podem ser estudados através das fontes do nosso acervo. Por isso, os convidados ficam à vontade para escrever no idioma em que desejarem e com o auxílio de uma ferramenta de tradução automática, o texto fica acessível a um número maior de leitores. 

Espero que apreciem a primeira parte do texto do Professor Pablo Iglesias Magalhães sobre as nossas Servinas. A parte II será publicada na semana que vem. Não deixe de conferir!

 

As Servinas na Oliveira Lima Library 

Parte I: A Typographia de Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva

Pablo Iglesias Magalhães

Professor dos cursos de História, do Programa de Pós-Graduação em Ciências Humanas e Sociais  e Vice-Diretor do Centro das Humanidades da Universidade Federal do Oeste da Bahia.

A Typographia de Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva (1811-1819), estabelecida na cidade do Salvador, um dos centros comerciais mais dinâmicos no Atlântico sul, não pode ser compreendida, em sua origem, como uma tipografia baiana. Constitui-se, antes, em uma casa de impressão ultramarina cuja origem se encontra nas transformações políticas ocorridas no Império português no início do século XIX.  Ainda que parte da produção tipográfica da Serva, naquele período, fosse para ser consumida imediata e localmente, particularmente os periódicos, seus livros estavam inseridos em uma ampla rede comercial que, além das diversas capitanias do Brasil, os fazia alcançar livreiros e leitores na Europa, África e Ásia.  

A produção tipográfica da Serva, inicialmente, respondia, para além das demandas de uma cidade portuária, às transformações políticas, econômicas e intelectuais que tiveram lugar no Império português. O conjunto de servinas custodiado na Oliveira Lima Library (OLL) é especialmente representativo para compreender aquele contexto histórico. 

Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva nasceu em cerca de 1760, em Vila Real, capital da Província de Trás-os-Montes e Alto Douro, Freguesia de Cerva, do Conselho de Ribeira de Pena. Chegou à Bahia por volta de 1788 ou 1789, quando contava 27 ou 29 anos. Casou-se com Maria Rosa da Conceição (?- 1858), natural da Bahia. O comerciante tornou-se livreiro, instalando livrarias em Salvador e no Rio de Janeiro, onde negociava impressos portugueses e franceses. Em 1810, por sua diligência, foi publicado, na Impressão Régia do Rio de Janeiro, o primeiro catálogo de uma livraria no Brasil. Serva, naquele mesmo ano, passou a pleitear, junto ao governo português, permissão para estabelecer uma tipografia na Cidade da Bahia. Essa licença foi conseguida no início do governo de d. Marcos de Noronha e Britto (1811-1817), o oitavo Conde dos Arcos, que instituiu uma Comissão de Censura (1811-1821), cuja função era examinar os manuscritos remetidos para impressão. 

A 13 de maio de 1811, foi inaugurada a Tipografia de Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva, instalada, inicialmente, no Morgado de Santa Bárbara, que já abrigava a sua livraria.

Detalhe do Morgado de Santa Bárbara. Arquivo Público do Estado da Bahia, séc. XVIII.

A OLL possui os dois livrinhos de cunho liberal, de autoria de José da Silva Lisboa (1756-1835), impressos no primeiro ano da tipografia. Essas duas obras, que já haviam sido publicadas no Rio de Janeiro, tem por título Observações sobre a franqueza da industria, e estabelecimento de fabricas no Brazil e Observações sobre a prosperidade do estado pelos liberaes principios da nova legislação do Brazil.  Ambas estão alinhadas ao liberalismo econômico que começavam a ganhar força entre os intelectuais e políticos portugueses, especialmente pela circulação dos livros e traduções feitos por José da Silva Lisboa e seu filho Bento da Silva Lisboa, que verteram para a língua portuguesa os princípios econômicos postulados na obra do professor escocês Adam Smith (1723-1790).

Morgado de Santa Bárbara em Salvador, Bahia. Rodolfo Lindeman, c. 1885.

A criação da Escola de Cirurgia da Bahia (1808), com sua subsequente elevação à Academia Médico-Cirúrgica da Bahia (1816) e Faculdade de Medicina da Bahia (1832), levou à Typographia de Serva a dar prelo a produção intelectual do corpo docente daquela instituição. O primeiro livro de medicina impresso na referida capitania foi Elementos de Osteologia Practica (1812), de José Soares de Castro (1772-1849). Também de Soares de Castro há uma tradução das Memorias physiologicas, e praticas sobre o aneurisma, e a ligadura das artérias, por Jean-Pierre Maunoir (1768-1861).

O médico que mais obras publicou na Typographia de Serva foi Manoel Joaquim Henriques de Paiva (1752-1829), inconfidente português desterrado na Bahia. Na OLL existe um exemplar do seu primeiro livro baiano,  Da febre e da sua curação em geral: ou, Novo e seguro methodo de curar facilmente, por meio dos acidos mineraes, todas as especies de febre, originalmente impresso em alemão por Gottfried Christian Reich (1769-1848), traduzido em francês por Charles Chrétien Henri Marc (1771-1840) e, finalmente, para o português, circulando amplamente por gerações de estudantes luso-brasileiros. 

A literatura também esteve presente na primeira fase da Serva. Na OLL há exemplar de um best-seller da época, a rara edição baiana das três partes da Marilia de Dirceu (1812), do poeta inconfidente Tomás Antonio Gonzaga. A terceira parte é apócrifa e não pode ser atribuída a Gonzaga. De original, há um exemplar de a Parafraze dos Proverbios de Salomão (1815), do mineiro José Eloy Ottoni (1774-1851), poema de natureza maçônica e relativamente fácil de encontrar em boas coleções. Também há um exemplar da Relação do Festim (1817), que traz um conjunto de composições, da autoria de alguns personagens influentes da época, como José Francisco Cardoso de Moraes, Paulo José de Melo Azevedo e Brito e Ignacio José de Macedo.  De literatura clássica há a edição baiana da Arte Poetica (1818), de Quinto Horácio Flaco (65 a.C. — 8 a.C.), traduzida em verso português pelo médico e pedreiro-livre Antonio José de Lima Leitão (1787-1856).

Bivar, Diogo Soares da Silva e. Principios geraes, ou, Verdadeiro methodo para se aprender a lêr, e a pronunciar com propriedade a lingua franceza. Bahia: Na Typog. de Manoel Antonio da Silva Serva, 1811. Oliveira Lima Pamphlet Collection, Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

No mesmo ano em que foi inaugurada, a Typographia de Serva começou a produzir livros didáticos para atender a demanda do ensino ministrado pelos professores régios e pelos poucos colégios existentes em Salvador. Um dos primeiros manuais didáticos na Bahia tem por título Principios Geraes ou Verdadeiro Methodo Para se aprender a lêr, e a pronunciar com propriedade a Lingua Franceza, folheto anônimo com 22 páginas, do qual existe um exemplar na OLL. Apesar do anonimato, é notório que seu autor foi Diogo Soares da Silva e Bivar, então acusado de inconfidência em Portugal e preso desde 1810 no Forte de São Pedro, em Salvador. Bivar (1785 – 1865) foi um dos mais atuantes intelectuais nos primeiros tempos da imprensa bahiense, colaborando com o padre Ignacio José de Macedo (1764-1834) na redação de a Idade d’Ouro do Brazil. Além disso, Bivar tomou parte na redação da revista As Variedades, considerada a primeira revista do Brasil, publicada em 1812.  Foi também o autor do Almanaque da Bahia para 1812, o primeiro do gênero que se imprimiu no Brasil (1811). Bivar ousou, numa época em que francesia e jacobinismo eram sinônimos, publicar seu pequeno compêndio gramatical francês, tão bem recebido que o livreiro francês Rolland, radicado em Lisboa, imprimiu a segunda edição na capital portuguesa em 1820, com 32 páginas, também anonimamente.