OLL Blog – Visual Depictions of Amazonian Boundary Commissions – Jeffrey Erbig

Visual Depictions of Amazonian Boundary Commissions

Jeffrey Erbig

Assistant Professor

University of California Santa Cruz

Department of Latin American & Latino Studies

Within the walls of the Oliveira Lima Library there sits a unique collection of watercolors attributed to Spanish mapmaker Francisco Requena y Herrera. The watercolors depict Luso-Hispanic mapping expeditions commissioned under the 1777 Treaty of San Ildefonso to draw a border between Brazil and Spanish South America. Requena was the ranking official of a Spanish mapping team sent to the Amazon, one of many that stretched the ten-thousand-mile border. His watercolors are perhaps the only visual records that portray the labors of the boundary commissions and were likely part of Manoel de Oliveira Lima’s original donation to the library. Oliveira Lima reportedly purchased them in 1914 from Dutch poet and essayist, Martinus Nijhoff, who in turn had acquired them in Spain (Smith, 33). If this account holds true, then Requena most likely brought them with him upon his 1795 return to Spain. Meanwhile, Requena’s maps are scattered across libraries in the United States and Europe, and while some include the same figures as the watercolors, most omit them entirely (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1: Francisco Requena, Mapa geográfico de la mayor parte de la América Meridional, 1796. Norman B. Leventhal Map & Education Center Collection.

Beyond being a unique media, Requena’s watercolors are significant for the information they present. Whereas the boundary commissions’ maps provide little indication of the labor involved in their production, these watercolors affirm what is more readily apparent in the diaries of demarcation officers, the expeditions’ account books, and administrative records of the spaces through which they traveled. They demonstrate complex sociocultural interactions that go far beyond Luso-Hispanic diplomacy or scientific knowledge (Siquiera Bueno and Kantor, 253-61). More specifically, they point to the actions of Indigenous and African Americans in response to Iberian efforts to partition the continent. Whereas several dozen diplomats, geographers, cosmographers, astronomers, engineers, and other royal officials produced the expeditions’ documentary corpus, each of the dozens of mapping teams included as many as several hundred guides, contracted laborers, slaves, and armed escorts. Moreover, they traveled through lands claimed and controlled by Indigenous peoples, who alternatively offered resistance or aid (Costa, 117-23).

Take for example the ninth watercolor in the series, titled Cascadas del Río Cuñaré (Fig. 2). From left to right, Requena identifies “Indios Omaguas” rowing a canoe full of provisions, Portuguese officers surveying the landscape with the support of numerous laborers, and Requena himself consulting with an Indigenous man while an African descendant interpreter conversed with two Native women. The image alone provides few details to explain the scene, but in his correspondence, Requena recounted having consulted with Omaguas men and women via a guide (prático do país) named Fernando Rojas. According to Requena, Omaguas communities maintained deep ties to nearby Franciscan missions, trading frequently with them in captives and in goods, and ostensible animosity toward the Portuguese (Quijano Otero, 192-93). Rojas, along with Juan de Silva, were Black men who had reportedly escaped slavery in the Brazilian captaincy of Pará, were fluent in nearby Indigenous languages, and had become principal guides for the Spanish demarcation teams (Roller, 119-20).

Fig. 2: Francisco Requena, Cascadas del Río Cuñaré. Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

Cascadas del Río Cuñaré captures much of what I found in the research for my book, Where Caciques and Mapmakers Met: Border Making in Eighteenth-Century South America, and for that reason I chose it as the cover image. While Requena’s teams and their Portuguese counterparts surveyed the Amazon, most of the expeditions worked farther south, in the Pantanal (Mato Grosso, Paraguay, and Bolivia) or in the grasslands and forests of southeastern South America (Santa Catarina/Rio Grande do Sul, Argentina, and Uruguay). By situating the southern expeditions within a deeper spatial history of this last region, I found that Native peoples engaged the boundary commissions with their own territorial imaginaries. Rather than part of an ever passing landscape or mere informants, as Iberian mapmakers depicted them to be, Indigenous peoples engaged the boundary commissions to advance their own interests. Guaraní mission-dwellers tend to garner the most attention in this regard, due to a three-year war that they waged against Spanish and Portuguese armies in response to the first attempt at partition. Yet all throughout the purported border, sovereign Native nations asserted their own claims, a fact that forces us to reframe border-drawing not merely as interimperial politics, but rather as interethnic affairs.

 

Bibliography

Costa, Maria de Fátima. “Viajes en la frontera colonial: Historias de una expedición de límites en la América Meridional (1753-1754).” Anales del Museo de América 16 (2009): 113–126.

Quijano Otero, José María. Límites de la República de los Estados-Unidos de Colombia, vol. 1. Sevilla: Francisco Alvarez y Cía, 1881.

Roller, Heather F. “River Guides, Geographical Informants, and Colonial Field Agents in the Portuguese Amazon.” Colonial Latin American Review 21, no. 1 (2012): 101–126.

Siquiera Bueno, Beatriz Piccolotto, and Iris Kantor. “A outra face das expedições científico-demarcatórias na Amazônia: o coronel Francisco Requena y Herrera e a comitiva castelhana.” In Oliveira, Francisco Roque de, ed. Cartógrafos para toda a Terra: Produção e circulação do saber cartográfico ibero-americano. Lisboa: Biblioteca Nacional de Portugal, 2015, 243–64.

Smith, Robert C. “Requena and the Japurá: Some Eighteenth Century Watercolors of the Amazon and Other Rivers.” The Americas 3, no. 1 (1946): 31–65.

 

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: 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.

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.

 

OLL Blog – Unveiling the Camiliana at the Oliveira Lima Library

Castello Branco, Camillo. A Senhora Rattazzi. Porto: Livraria Internacional de Ernesto Chardron, 1880.
Castello Branco’s A Senhora Rattazzi (1880), part of OLL’s Camiliana.

Portuguese writer Camilo Castelo Branco (1825-1890), is considered one of the most important writers of his generation. His unmistaken style granted him an avid readership and a place in the heart of bibliophiles interested in lusophone literature. Castelo Branco lived as intensely as he wrote. His 1862 novel Amor de perdição (Doomed Love: a Family Memoir), famously inspired by his love affair with a married woman, was written during his imprisonment for adultery and became a bestseller. He was one of the few able to live off of his craft in his time. Castelo Branco wrote novels, plays, essays and poems. He also worked as a translator, translating French and English books to Portuguese. The irresistible force of love is a constant subject of his works, as much as social prejudice and the many forms of moral corruption, leading to stories that often end up in tragedy. Not all of them, though. There is also redemption, achieved through a great deal of suffering, and plenty of comedy. 

As a writer and translator, Castelo Branco had a prolific career, producing over 260 books until his death in 1890.  Although not entirely confined by the canon of Romanticism, he remained a stark critic of the Realist style represented by Eça de Queiroz. The two men were the most prominent examples of the main literary trends in the 19th century.  The importance of Castelo Branco in that context can not be overstated.

No collection of literature of the Lusophone world worthy of its name is complete without the presence of Camilo Castelo Branco. Manoel de Oliveira Lima, passionate bibliophile and book collector since the early age of 14, was very aware of that. Educated in Lisbon, he undoubtedly read and studied Castelo Branco’s works during his formative years. Later, an already seasoned scholar and book collector, he decided to build his very own Camiliana which would become part of the Oliveira Lima Library. Comprising more than 300 volumes, including original works, translations, catalogues from book sellers, Camiliana catalogues, compilations of correspondence, anthologies, and even books that belonged to Camilo Castelo Branco, is still a treasure to be unveiled. 

Castelo Branco, Camilo. Catalogo da preciosa livraria do eminente escriptor Camillo Castello Branco: contendo grande numero de livros raros ..., e muitos manuscriptos importantes, a qual será vendida em leilão. em Lisboa, no proximo mez de dezembro de 1883 ... sob a direcção da casa editora de Mattos Moreira & Cardosos. Lisboa: Typ. de M. Moreira & Cardosos, 1883.
Catalogue of a book auction in Lisbon that sold part of Castelo Branco’s private collection

The idea of revealing Oliveira Lima’s Camiliana to the world had already been in my plans for quite some time when a serendipitous encounter with Fabiano Cataldo, Professor of the School of Librarianship at the Universidade Federal do Estado do Rio de Janeiro (UNIRIO) in Brazil, transformed it into a project. Prof. Cataldo researches and teaches on the management of Special Collections in Libraries and has extensive experience organizing specialized catalogues. More recently, he has been interested in the study of book provenance. That interest prompted him to start a project in 2018 with colleagues from Brazil, Argentina, the United States and the United Kingdom, to map other similar projects, carry out an extensive review of concepts, and to study forms of identification and description of provenance marks. Ever since becoming a member of the Projeto “A Eloquência dos Livros: marcas de proveniência Bibliográfica”, the plan to organize a specialized catalogue of the Camiliana took a more defined shape. With the collaboration of Prof. Cataldo,  we developed a plan to study the collection within the framework of the field of provenance studies. The final product will be a printed catalogue of our Camiliana, possibly accompanied by an electronic version. The bibliographic records will also be accessible via our online catalogue.   

Denis, Jean F, Pierre Pincon, and Guillaume F. Martonne. Manuels Roret - Nouveau Manuel De Bibliographie Universelle. Tome I. Paris, a la Librairie Encyclopédique de Roret, 1857.
Castelo Branco’s signature in one of the books acquired in the Lisbon book auction by Oliveira Lima that are now part of the OLL collection.

We are currently in the early stages of the project, which consists of the inventory of the collection. In completing this phase of the project, the aid of our team at the Oliveira Lima Library has been unvaluable. Cataloguing and the itemized description of the books will follow, with a special focus on the provenance marks, of course. Unfortunately, our work schedule has been affected  by the ongoing pandemic. We are doing our best to keep working while being safe. Although we are working exclusively from home and Prof. Cataldos’ visit will not be possible in the summer as previously planned, we are aiming to come up with creative solutions and keep the work going. We hope to be able to announce updates soon. Stay tuned for news on the project! 

The Archivist’s Nook: Lawrence Flick – Medical Crusader and Catholic Historian

As historians, archivists, and librarians, we address many subjects, including the history of disease. As the world of 2020 faces the Coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, it is worthwhile to consider another serious infectious disease that afflicted the world more than a century ago—and the man who, after surviving his own diagnosis of the disease, dedicated himself to its prevention and treatment.  The disease is tuberculosis, which primarily affects the lungs with bacteria spread person to person through tiny droplets released into the air through coughing and sneezing. The person who pioneered the research and treatment of this deadly disease was Dr. Lawrence Francis Flick (1856-1938). A devout Roman Catholic and German-American from western Pennsylvania, Flick was a dedicated medical doctor as well as a serious historian of his Church. His papers, which reside in the Special Collections of The Catholic University of America in Washington, D. C. document his work in both his fields of interest.

Portrait of Dr. Flick as First President of the American Catholic Historical Association (ACHA) in 1920. ACHA Records, Special Collections, Catholic University.

The ninth of twelve children, Flick was born on August 10, 1856, near Carrolltown in Cambria County, Pennsylvania. His parents were German immigrants with roots in Bavaria, John Flick and Elizabeth Sharbaugh (or Schabacher). He was educated at St. Vincent’s College in Latrobe, Pennsylvania. It was also an adjunct to a Bavarian Benedictine Monastery, which trained priests for the order as well as the Pittsburgh diocese. After contracting Pulmonary Tuberculosis, the version that affects the lungs, Flick was forced to drop out and return home to recuperate. Somewhat better but still in poor health, Flick enrolled at Philadelphia’s Jefferson Medical College in 1877, the same year that the college became one of the first teaching medical colleges in the United States. Flick graduated in 1879 as a medical doctor and interned at Blockley, the Philadelphia charity hospital. Flick also devoted several years to curing himself, including a tour of the American west and eating an experimental diet. Apparently cured by 1883, Flick returned permanently to Philadelphia and had a remarkable career as a specialist in tuberculosis, and its prevention and treatment.[1]

Anti Tuberculosis poster of the American Lung Association, ca. 1930s, Courtesy of the Museum of Health Care.

Flick’s studies prompted him to argue that the disease was contagious and not hereditary, which contradicted the current school of thought. His efforts to isolate ‘consumptives,’ as those suffering from tuberculosis were then called, in special hospitals known as sanitariums, and to register their cases, was controversial, and opposed by many within the medical profession. Between 1892 and 1910, Flick’s efforts to educate the public prompted him to found the Pennsylvania Society for Prevention of Tuberculosis; the Free Hospital for Poor Consumptives; the Henry Phipps Institute for the Study, Prevention, and Treatment of Tuberculosis, where he was President and Medical Director from 1903 to 1910; and a sanitarium at White Haven, Pennsylvania, that he directed until 1935. His fellow Roman Catholics from all levels of society were generous in their contributions and assistance. Flick was also a promoter of the National Association for Study and Prevention of Tuberculosis (1904) and of its International Congress on Tuberculosis (1908). In addition to his fight against Tuberculosis, Flick was also in the forefront of combating the Spanish Flu Epidemic of 1918 in Philadelphia.

A roadside historical marker honoring Dr. Flick erected in 1959 by the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission on Route 219 North, near Carrolltown, some 400 yards west of his birthplace. As a child I lived a few miles away and would frequently pass this sign while out driving with my family. Imagine my surprise years later, when beginning work as an archivist at Catholic University, to find we had the papers of this notable homeboy! [3] Photo courtesy of The Historical Markers Database.
Flick was the author of several books, including Consumption, A Curable and Preventable Disease (1903) and Tuberculosis, A Book of Practical Knowledge to Guide the General Practitioner of Medicine (1937). He also wrote many articles and book reviews that were published in The Ecclesiastical Review and the Catholic Historical Review. The latter published his 1927 magisterial article on Prince Demtri Gallitzin, the so called ‘Apostle of the Alleghenies,’ who did so much to bring the Catholic religion to the inhabitant of Flick’s native Western Pennsylvania. Flick died in Philadelphia July 7, 1938, and was buried in the cemetery of Old St. Mary’s Church. His son, Lawrence F. Flick, Jr., was a writer and editor of some note and two of Flick’s daughters wrote biographies of their father

What lesson then does Flick have for us in these times of uncertainty brought on by this pandemic? He is an example of how one person can make a difference in research, education, and, most importantly, the treatment of a terrible disease that resulted in its eventual mitigation. Flick said “Tuberculosis takes only the quitters,” those who got discouraged and gave up the struggle.[2] Flick was a fighter who would not be defeated. Perhaps someone reading this blog post will be such a person, a new Flick to defeat the Coronavirus, or some other as yet unheard of pestilence. We can only hope.

[1] James J. Walsh. ‘Dr. Lawrence F. Flick,’ The Commonweal, August 26, 1938, p. 445.

[2] Raymond Schmandt. ‘The Friendship between Bishop Regis Canevin and Dr. Lawrence Flick of Philadelphia,’ The Western Pennsylvania Historical Magazine (61:4), October 1978, pp. 284-286.

[3] Special Collections at CUA also houses the records of many Catholic organizations fighting disease and disaster, including the National Catholic War Council, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Catholic Charities USA, and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Also, thanks to TSK and staff for their assistance.

OLL Blog – Farewell to a Friend of Books

Manoel de Oliveira Lima offered to bequeath his library to Catholic University in a letter to the University's Rector in 1916
Letter from Manoel de Oliveira Lima to Bishop Thomas J. Shahan, Rio de Janeiro, 10/12/1916. American Catholic History Research Center and University Archives, The Catholic University of America.

Today marks the 92nd anniversary of the passing of Manoel de Oliveira Lima. The Brazilian diplomat and world renowned scholar had moved permanently to the United States with his wife Flora de Oliveira Lima to fulfill a dream. They arrived in 1921, settling in the nation’s capital with one main goal in mind : organizing his colossal personal library of approximately 40.000 volumes at the Catholic University of America (CUA). The donation of this treasure trove of books, manuscripts, maps, photographs, works of art and memorabilia was formalized in 1916 in a letter sent to University’s rector Bishop Thomas J. Shahan. The Board of Trustees promptly accepted the donation and agreed to the conditions imposed: Dr. Lima himself would be the librarian in charge, the collection should bear his name, and it was never to be dispersed or incorporated in the university’s general library. 

Ever since his retirement from the diplomatic service in 1913, Dr. Lima was planning to devote the rest of his life to become a full time scholar. He had travelled extensively, lecturing in the United States in 1912 after teaching a course in Stanford. In the fall of 1915, he had the honor to be invited by Harvard University to be the first occupant of the newly created Chair of Latin American History and Economy, which he accepted. Returning to Brazil in 1916, the Oliveira Limas had to patiently wait for safer travel conditions and ended up staying in their hometown of Recife in Brazil during World War I. 

Our Professorial Corner, The Harvard Illustrated Magazine. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Illustrated, v.17 (1915-1916), p. 87.

Boxes filled with books were shipped  straight to the CUA campus not only from Brazil but also from London and Brussels, the last locations of the diplomatic residencies in Europe. The organization of the library took longer than Dr. Lima and his wife expected. The extenuating work took a toll on his already fragile health and they went for a health-related trip to Europe in 1923. A tireless scholar, Lima found time to give a series of lectures to inaugurate the Chair of Brazilian Studies at the University of Lisbon before heading to Karlsbad, a famous spa town. The time spent in Lisbon, where he grew up and was educated, and the treatments at the sanatorium were reinvigorating, but more work awaited him back home. 

J. De Siqueira Coutinho, Manoel de Oliveira Lima, Bishop Thomas J. Shahan, Fr Bernard A. McKenna, Ruth Holmes at the Oliveira Lima Library on the 3rd floor of McMahon Hall. The Oliveira Lima Library, The Catholic University of America.

Upon his return, Dr. Lima was appointed Associate Professor of International Law in the School of Canon Law at Catholic University. He took great pleasure in lecturing and advising students while simultaneously focusing on the organizational work of the library, however his health continued to deteriorate. With the support of his wife and the librarian Ruth Holmes, he finally opened the Oliveira Lima Library to the public in 1924. The custom-made wooden shelves occupied rooms on the third floor of McMahon Hall while construction of Mullen Library was on the way. 

Unfortunately, Dr. Lima did not live to see his library installed in the space he had selected in the new building. On March 24, 1928, the founder of the Oliveira Lima Library passed away in his home in Washington DC. Bishop Shahan celebrated the Requiem mass at the Shrine, during which he described the late Professor as ”one of the foremost men of letters of the time”  and a “pioneer in the work of establishing Pan American amity and universal peace”.  (The Tower, Wednesday, March 28, 1928, p. 1 ).

Manoel de Oliveira Lima was buried at the Mount Olivet Cemetery in Washington DC. Per his instructions, his epitaph in Portuguese says only “Aqui jaz um amigo dos livros” (“Here Lies a Friend of Books” in English). 

Mount Olivet Cemetery, Washington D.C.