Hip hip hooray, a newly catalogued collection!

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The Clive Lee Collection (EUL MS 491) has now been fully catalogued and is available to access in our reading room. You can access the catalogue for the collection here.

Who was Professor Clive Lee?

Portrait photograph of a bespectacled male (Clive Lee) in red and blue ceremonial robes, wearing a cap with a blue tassel. He is holding a blue cylindrical tube, with the University of Exeter coat of arms.
Professor Clive Lee receiving an honorary degree, from the University of Exeter, to mark the creation and success of the Exeter hip, July 2009.

Alan John Clive Lee was born on 18 February 1939 and attended school in Solihull. He subsequently undertook an apprenticeship with Rolls-Royce and during this time studied mechanical engineering at the University of Nottingham, for which he graduated with a first class honours degree in 1966.

In 1966, Lee joined what was then the School of Engineering, Computing and Mathematics at the University of Exeter, as an assistant lecturer. He remained at the University of Exeter for the rest of his career, becoming a professor in 2020.

He is particularly remembered for his co-creation of the Exeter hip, collaborating with the orthopaedic surgeon Professor Robin Ling, to create a new type of artificial hip joint.

What is the Exeter hip?

In 1965, in the UK, there were three designs of total hip arthroplasty: McKee-Farrer, the Ring and Sir John Charnley’s Low Friction Arthroplasty. At this time the success rates were low, so it was decided that a new approach was needed. This led, in 1969, to a collaboration between Clive Lee, Department of Engineering (now School of Engineering) at the University of Exeter and Robin Ling, Princess Elizabeth Orthopaedic Hospital (PEOH), to design a new solution for hip replacements.

The idea that emerged was to produce a device that could be fixed with acrylic-bone cement, instead of having metal against metal, and that could be inserted through the posterior approach (the patient lying on their side).

Lee got to work designing the new style of stem, which was originally known as the Ling-Lee, before later becoming the Exeter hip. The Exeter hip stem first came into use in 1970 and initially was solely used in Exeter, this allowed close monitoring of the success and failures of the implant, and allowed for further development to the hip stem. It is now the most commonly used hip replacement in the NHS and across the world.

What is in the collection?

Technical engineer drawing of the Exeter hip (formerly Ling-Lee) stem and cup.

The collection relates largely to the design and development of the Exeter hip, including patents; technical drawings; research papers and publications; clinical data (from testing); photographs of the hip stem, surgical procedures and testing; administrative papers (relating to Lee’s consultancy work).

There is also an extensive range of objects within the collection, including Exeter hip stems; 3D plastic designs; hip stems by other manufacturers; medical equipment developed to assist with surgery; teaching aids (e.g. prosthetic hips).

Variations of the Exeter hip stem, 1970-present.

Alongside this, there is a small amount of material (largely designs and patents) relating to other creations by Lee and Ling, including total knee and total elbow replacements.

The material is available to view in our reading room, and more information on visiting the reading room can be found on our LibGuides.

From Archive to Exhibition: Revisiting Common Ground’s Parish Maps – guest blog post by Rebecca Wood

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Our latest guest blog post comes from Rebecca Wood, a postgraduate student on the University of Exeter’s MA Curation: Contemporary Art and Cultural Management course. Rebecca visited us to research the Parish maps project in the Common Ground archive for her exhibition ‘Parish Maps: Then, Now, Next’, which took place from 05 to 14 June 2026.

The exhibition on display in the Exeter Central Libary
The exhibition ‘Parish Maps: Then. Now, Next’ at Exeter Central Library, 26 June 2026 © Simon Tutty

Archives are often thought of as places that preserve the past, but they can also inspire entirely new creative work. This was my experience as an MA Curation student at the University of Exeter when I began researching the Common Ground Parish Maps archive for my final exhibition, Parish Maps: Then, Now, Next.

Established in 1982 by Sue Clifford, Angela King and Roger Deakin, Common Ground champions local distinctiveness, the people, stories and landscapes that make every place unique. One of the charity’s most influential projects, Parish Maps, launched in 1987 and invited communities to come together to create imaginative maps of their local areas. Rather than recording roads and boundaries, these maps celebrated favourite walks, local landmarks, memories and shared stories, offering a deeply personal understanding of place and belonging.

Postcards of parish maps in the Common Ground archive [EUL MS 416/PRO/5/4]

What struck me most was how relevant the project still felt. Questions surrounding local identity, community and belonging remain deeply relevant today, particularly as Exeter undergoes significant local government reorganisation. Looking through the archive, I began to wonder whether ideas behind Parish Maps could still help people understand place in the 21st century?

My research began with a conversation with Annie Price, the archivist who catalogued the Common Ground Archive within the University of Exeter’s Special Collections. She explained that although awareness of Common Ground’s connection to Parish Maps had declined over time, the practice of community mapping had persisted. Over the following six months, I made regular visits to the Reading Room, exploring exhibition catalogues, correspondence, administrative papers, and photographic transparencies. Studying this material allowed me to look beyond the finished maps and discover the remarkable amount of collaboration, dialogue and participation that made the project possible. It became clear that if I wanted to make the most out of revisiting Parish Maps, I should find new ways to expand the project’s collaborative spirit.

This became the foundation of Parish Maps: Then, Now, Next. The exhibition brought together archival maps, newly commissioned work by Exeter printmaker Sam Goodwin, and contemporary community-created maps to explore how ideas of place continue to evolve. As I worked to develop this, I returned to the archive with Sam Goodwin to look over the material together and consider how the values of Parish Maps could be best reinterpreted within contemporary Exeter.

‘Exeter Parish Map‘ (2026) © Sam Goodwin

Research also led me to the Royal Albert Memorial Museum and Art Gallery’s Stitched Stories: River, a collaborative textile map created through workshops led by artist Aga Eden with museum visitors and local community groups. While volunteering on one of these workshops, I realised I was seeing many of the same principles that had shaped Parish Maps almost forty years earlier. Participants were collectively sharing memories, experiences and places that made Exeter meaningful to them. Including this work in the exhibition helped demonstrate how the practice of community mapping has continued to evolve beyond the original project.

Importantly, the exhibition also featured a collaborative creative mapping activity that developed throughout the exhibition. Rather than asking people simply to record places they valued, the map encouraged them to imagine how Exeter could develop in the future by sharing memories, favourite places and ideas for change. Building on the original ideas behind Parish Maps, this map successfully expanded the practice to consider how we can map, and work towards, a better future.

Collaborative ‘Future Exeter Parish Map’ featuring visitor contributions © Rebecca Wood

From Page to Screen: Tracing Tarka the Otter through the archives

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Article by Sophia Barraclough who worked for two weeks in Special Collections as part of the Professional Pathways internship programme run by the University. Sophia is studying for a BA in English and French at Exeter.

Sophia working on the archive

As part of the Henry Williamson archives, I had the opportunity to explore the material relating to the development and production of David Cobham’s Tarka the Otter film. This was an engaging task due to the remarkable variety of material this collection included. Within the archives were letters, draft scripts, shooting schedules, production photographs, promotional posters, and many other documents that map the film’s journey from its earliest ideas to its release. Following this progression through the archive offered a rare insight into every stage of filmmaking, from creative development and editorial decisions to the practical realities of production and marketing. Furthermore, there is a strong sense of place embedded in the archives. Since the novel Tarka the Otter was based in North Devon, the film was shot there and exploring the documents offered the chance to connect the archival record with landscapes that resonate with the University of Exeter’s environment. This connected the close relationship between Williamson’s writing, Cobham’s adaptation and the place that inspired them both.

Williamson was closely involved in the film’s early development, producing multiple drafts and documents relating to his concept for the film. Ultimately, the final version of the film’s script was co-written by the naturalist and author Gerald Durrell and the film’s director David Cobham.
What greatly adds to the intrigue of studying these archives are the traces of human thought within them. Across documents from the collection are handwritten annotations, crossings-out, and revisions that offer a glimpse into Williamson’s thought process and allow a sense of connection to the constantly evolving nature of creative output. Even physical traces can be spotted across the documents that reflect this idea that the papers were handled, discussed, and revised over the years, such as ink smudges, folded corners or the faint ring of a coffee mug.

Folder from the archive, EUL MS 43/add.3, Box 31/20, with permission from the Henry Williamson Society
Folders from the archive, EUL MS 43/add.3, Box 31, with permission from the Henry Williamson Society

Each part of the collection combines to form a larger picture; early script drafts lead into correspondence between Williamson and Cobham, which in turn connect to production schedules, location planning, photographs and promotional material. Individually these items tell only part of the story but together they reveal not only the practical steps involved in making the film but also the gradual evolution of creative ideas into a finished production.

Williamson’s initial drafts and writing reflected his ideas on how the plot should unfold across the Tarka the Otter film. His original vision of the film was centred on his ex-soldier character called Phillip Maddison who would find Tarka and take her to safety. The plot, as Williamson himself described, was supposed to be a “human drama”. This markedly differs from the completed film in which the character of Phillip Maddison does not appear at all and the narrative instead remains much closer to the natural world, echoing the spirit of Williamson’s original novel.
Comparing these early drafts with the finished screenplay highlights the editorial decisions that were rejected and the choices that ultimately reshaped the film.

After uncovering more information about the initial stages of the film’s creative development, I was impressed to learn more of the practical challenges of filmmaking in the 1970s. Production schedules and planning documents reveal the extraordinary level of organisation required before filming could even begin. In the early years of CGI, production instead relied on training animals for the film’s key characters. The archives document the careful coordination required to work with otters, hounds and other animals, including the logistical necessity of keeping various species apart for their own welfare during filming. These records provide a fascinating glimpse into the scale of planning that lay behind what audiences would eventually see on screen.
Alongside these practical records were newspaper cuttings, magazine articles and writings on otters and wildlife conservation. These materials demonstrate the care taken to ensure that the film remained faithful to the natural world at the heart of Tarka the Otter. Rather than simply telling a story about an otter, effort was made to understand the species and their environment accurately.

Working with this collection demonstrated the extent to which archives preserve far more than finished works. They preserve conversations, revisions, research, experiments and practical decisions that would otherwise be lost. As relationships between documents gradually emerge, it becomes possible to reconstruct not only the history of a film but also the creative process that shaped it. In an increasingly digital age, there is something especially powerful about working with these physical records. Their annotations, and used, material nature communicate a sense of imagination and artistic process that extends beyond the words themselves. Together, the documents reveal not simply what was created, but how creativity itself unfolded to translate Tarka the Otter and Williamson’s vision of North Devon to the screen.

Death of the Author and his Resurrection in the Archive: Reflections on two-weeks of work in the Special Collections by Suchetana Phani

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Article by Suchetana Phani who worked for two weeks in Special Collections as part of the Professional Pathways internship programme run by the University. Suchetana is studying for an MA in Magic and Occult Science at Exeter.

Working on the collections
Suchetana working on the collections

As someone who changed her entire career trajectory and crossed two oceans to land in Exeter after documenting a family archive of my grandfather’s love letters and my great grandfather’s refugee certificate post the 1947 Partition, I am no stranger to the power of stories. 

Historically, access to archives had often been determined by power, social status, education, ownership and access to travel. While most of these factors continue to persist as barriers to archival access in the contemporary era, we exist at a point in history where these narratives are further endangered by factors ranging from storage concerns, loss of physical objects, different kinds of item damage to funding cuts for the Arts and Heritage Sector, and the ever-looming miasma of generative AI ventriloquizing the human experience.

But that didn’t (and still doesn’t) deter me from my goals of working in the Heritage sector to actively participate in preserving human narratives in order to bridge the visibility gap between people and their collective cultural heritage. So, getting the opportunity to work as a Collections Assistant for the University of Exeter’s Special Collections through a two-week internship through the University’s Pathways to Arts, Culture and Heritage Program felt like another step closer to my dreams.

Me and my fellow Pathways colleague, Sophia were assigned boxes of previously uncatalogued items from the Henry Williamson Archive, with instructions to go through the material and catalogue it as per archival standards. I had been personally unaware of Williamson thus far, but my initial research surrounding his work, which seemed interesting, and his politics, which were less so, had given me mixed feelings about the content with which I was about to engage.

Henry Williamson’s diaries 1930s, EUL MS 43/add. 3/Boxes 14-15, with permission from the Henry Williamson Society
Henry Williamson’s diaries 1970s, EUL MS 43/add. 3/Boxes 14-15, with permission from the Henry Williamson Society

As I got to work on cataloguing Williamson’s diaries from 1929 to 1975, my emotions surrounding the author became further complicated. Having Williamson’s deeply personal dialogue as the first point of narrative contact brought me into an intensely colourful life populated by several equally interesting individuals. Beyond what was written, I sought to understand subtext as I carefully read entries and noticed shifts in handwriting that coincided with shifts in mood or attempts to be secretive even in the act of documenting one’s life. Even though I began my journey of making notes about the contents of the items with the occasional furrowed brow, phases of “mild” infuriation and a certainty that I would absolutely not relate to any of the material, somewhere along the way I found my intellectual stand-offishness softened by glimmers of fundamentally human experiences like struggle, heartbreak, grief, and loss. Engaging with these documents made me particularly conscious of my politics as a feminist and a neurodivergent woman of colour, which were consistently challenged by Williamson’s individual documented standpoint. However, rather than being an intellectual barrier, these lived experiences combined with contemporary political and theoretical frameworks allowed me to critically engage with nuanced discourses of power through the act of documentation, gender, bodily autonomy, and mental health in Williamson’s historical and socio-cultural context. 

I looked at the diaries as physical objects undergoing changes through the ages. From changes in branding for individual sellers over the decades to the visual progression of the hardcover clothbound diaries of the ’30s into the paperback notebooks with spiral binding in the late ’60s and early ’70s. The diaries acted as records in themselves that could be used to interpret shifts in demand, development of new products for sale, material costs, inflation, branding and marketing changes in the organisations, and the manufacture and sale of the items. Furthermore, engaging with the physical state of the items allowed me to learn a bit more about conservation as my supervisor, Angela, guided me through processes of documenting and quarantining archival material during conservation.

These two weeks have been immensely insightful. Every working day brought something new for me to learn and reinforced how much archival work genuinely called to me as a labour of love. I was able to catalogue 116(!!) items and re-package them for future scholarly use. I also got to witness the intense care and dedication with which the Special Collections team operated, being especially fascinated by the archival storage infrastructure. As an international student with Indian archival and digital humanities training, the opportunity helped me learn more about how to care for heritage items in a UK context. I learnt how to work efficiently under deadlines and gained confidence with regards to working in a professional environment. Overall, I truly enjoyed my time working at the Special Collections. The Team was especially helpful and welcoming, and I got to learn so much about archival work (and Henry Williamson, whom I knew very little about, by extension!)

With special thanks to Angela Mandrioli from the Special Collections team for her constant support and guidance during the project and to the Professional Pathways Team for their dedication to making student employment journeys more accessible. 

“It gave me an incredible insight into an area of work that I initially had very little knowledge about”: Reflections on a week of work experience in Special Collections

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Map of Devon from an Atlas of the Counties of England and Wales (Rare Books B 1590/SAX/XX)

We were delighted to be joined last week by Year 10 student Elodie for a week of work experience in Special Collections. Below Elodie shares some of her impressions and reflections on the experience. We would like to take this opportunity to thank Elodie for her excellent work and wish her every success for the future.

This week, I was given the opportunity to do my work experience at Special Collections. Over the five days, I took part in several tasks you would do as an archivist. As well as this, I got a chance to speak to many members of the Special Collections team, along with staff at the wider university who work closely with the archives, such as the University Library, Bill Douglas Cinema Museum, and the Digital Humanities Lab.

On Monday, we received training in handling archives and rare books, which gave me a chance to see some of the favourite items of the collection, such as letters written by Agatha Christie and Daphne du Maurier, and a beautiful hand-painted atlas of the counties of England Wales from the 16th century. This was a real highlight, and it was incredible to see and handle something so old.

Repackaged files from the Clive Lee Archive (EUL MS 491).

One of the main things I spent my time doing was repackaging files and photographs from the Clive Lee archive, about the Exeter Hip, a type of hip replacement. While this may sound like an easy task, a surprising amount of thought had to go in to ensuring that everything was packaged correctly so that it can be preserved for centuries to come.

Another activity that we were given was stocktaking the Hypatia Collection, which involved checking that a selection of books and pamphlets from the collection were in the correct place. It took a while to get a hang of the system, but I found it easier and easier as the week progressed, and it was really interesting to see all of the books on the way women lived.

On Wednesday, we received a tour of the Forum Library and the Digital Humanities Lab, and got to see how these other University departments work with Special Collections. I even got the opportunity to use a 3D printer, where I printed a little blue shark, have a go at digitising some archival material using cameras, and use podcast equipment, which were all new and exciting experiences.

The photograph from the University Archive that Elodie chosen for her social media post. It shows students of the University College of the South West with tennis racquets in 1929. (EUL UA/P/3i)

Other activities that we did over the week included a tour of the Bill Douglas Cinema Museum, which I found fascinating, particularly seeing the objects relating to early animation and how people were entertained visually before cinema. On Thursday, I posted an Instagram post of a photograph from Special Collections to celebrate Wimbledon for Throwback Thursday. We also set up materials for and sat in on a visit from the Courtauld Summer School, who were looking at medieval manuscripts. It was amazing to see how fascinated these visitors were and listen to all of the questions that they had. Finally, on Friday, we helped to retrieve items for a visit next week, which was a fun bit of detective work. We had to write slips for each book/letter, work out which bay in the strong room they were in, and then retrieve the items and place a slip in their original location so that they can be easily returned.

I really enjoyed speaking to members of the team about their roles, which are really varied. Different people have to do a huge variety of tasks, including receiving new donations, cataloguing, digitising, supervising the Reading Room, retrieving materials, running outreach and events, and even monitoring the temperature and insects in the strong rooms! Everyone was really friendly and welcoming, and as soon as I arrived any initial nervousness about a week of work experience disappeared. Each task was thoroughly explained and Annie, Tash and the rest of the team were happy to answer any questions that we had.

Overall, I had an amazing time at Special Collections, and it gave me an incredible insight into an area of work that I initially had very little knowledge about, which I will definitely be considering when thinking about careers in the future.

Find out more about work experience placements in Special Collections on our Special Collections webpages

“The whole experience was very valuable”: Reflections on a week of work experience in Special Collections

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We were delighted to be joined last week by Year 10 student Alisa for a week of work experience in Special Collections. Below Alisa shares some of her impressions and reflections on the experience. We would like to take this opportunity to thank Alisa for her excellent work and wish her every success for the future.

A stocktake was undertaken by Alisa of the Hypatia Collection of books and journals by and about women (classmark: Hypatia)

Over the past week, I was fortunate enough to do my work experience in Special Collections. I had the chance to handle many rare books and archives which I found very fascinating, as well as the chance to meet the incredibly friendly University staff, as well as the delight of meeting the archivists Annie and Tash, who were very patient and kind towards me.

One of the most memorable tasks, as well as the one that I spent the most time on, was stocktaking. This is where you look for a sample selection of 500 books and pamphlets in a rare book collection by following the provided checklist to see if the item is there, as well as check the condition of the item. I really enjoyed this task as I found all the books covers extremely elegant and well decorated, which differs from modern books that lack any personality. Each cover was extraordinarily well made, especially the occasional illustrated book covers or the patterned leather. Many of the book titles were extremely interesting as well, such books containing letters between famous figures, such as ‘The letters of Queen Victoria : a selection from Her Majesty’s correspondence between the years 1837 and 1861‘ [Hypatia BIO/VIC].

Technical drawing of the LIng-Lee stem and cup for the Exeter Hip, 1976 (EUL MS 491).

Another memorable task was working on the files relating to the Exeter hip stem – a hip implant used worldwide in hip replacement surgery. This involved repackaging papers to prevent them from damage, before labeling them so they could be found. I really enjoyed doing this as it was strangely calming switching off my brain to do the repetitive task of folding folders and tying rope. Many of the files were also really interesting, as you can see the precisely drawn medical images, as well as see each individual’s different handwriting as well as thoughts back then in the day.

I was also given the chance to talk to many of the University staff, allowing me to learn more about what their job entails, as well as hear interesting stories such as how the original manuscript copy of ‘The Lord of the Flies’ was written when the author was supposed to be teaching, and since if works were written in working hours, there might be a chance that copyright would be given to the school instead, therefore the author ripped off the cover of the notebook so there would be no evidence that it was written during school hours. This greatly amused me when I first heard after seeing the fragile state of the original copy which looked like even a blow of wind would cause the notebook to disintegrate.

There was also the opportunity to explore the Digital Humanities Lab, which I found was the highlight of the week. Since there was coincidentally another student from my school that went on the tour with me, as well as another one of my classmates that did her experience in the Bill Douglas Cinema Museum, we were all able to get three 3D printed matching sharks which were absolutely adorable, as well as mess around in the sounds lab creating our own podcast which was admittedly so terrible that we deleted it from the faces of earth the moment we finished hearing it.

Collage of 24 images from Special Collections
Collage of images from Special Collections

Overall, I really enjoyed my week in Special Collections doing work experience, as the whole experience was very valuable. I highly recommend this experience for people like me who were too scared to make a phone call, as this is first come first served by email. The work environment is extremely friendly, as well as forgiving about mistakes and patient about any concerns or questions. I found it really enjoyable working with people who obviously enjoyed their job.

Find out more about work experience placements in Special Collections on our Special Collections webpages

John Gerard‘s The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes (1597) 

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Article by Anna Goebel, MA student of Professor Ayesha Mukherjee’s course ‘Global Voices: Shakespeare and the Early Modern World’

Syon Abbey 1597/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1597 edition, title page

The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes (1597) by John Gerard is a collection of entries about plants which follows the form of a commonplace book, a popular form of writing in the early modern period. Commonplace books collect together short quotations from other texts, combined with personal observations and anecdotes. It also introduces the author, with the work not written but “Gathered by John Gerarde” (Gerard 1), presenting Gerard like a collector, which hints at the beginning of British exploration and expansionism which had just started at the end of the 16th century. The Herball is a large quarto of almost 1500 pages divided into three books. The title page is what immediately catches the eye, which makes sense, as they were often printed in multiples and used by booksellers to advertise the book and give an impression of its contents. It shows an array of people and plants, everything from flowers to reeds, referring to dignitaries at the time: “ancient figures of botanical authority, to New World plants, to plants from the Ottoman Empire, and to England’s own flora” (Rickmann 105) alongside a structured garden with individual beds. Not only is this title page beautiful, but engraved title pages were rare in the late sixteenth century which makes the herbal a luxury good.

Unusually, the chapters are not in alphabetical order, as was customary for herbals at the time, rather, Gerard groups them by physical structure, starting with grasses and ending with corals. Each chapter on the plants is similar to encyclopedic entries we know today, with the English name of the plant; the kinds of plant and its relatives; a description of each kind; the place and conditions in which the plant usually grows; its timing; its classic and vernacular names; and its common uses or “vertues”. I specifically want to focus on the entry about cotton, “Of the Bombaste, or Cotton plant”, on pages 753 to 754, which follows this structure of plant description. There is one woodblock illustration for cotton (every entry has up to four) that shows the whole plant including roots, leaves and flowers, with the names “Goßipium fiue Xylon” and “The Cotton bush” inscribed on top (Gerard 753). For the names of the plants, Gerard includes colloquial names used by occupational groups, national language groups, and women, with special attention to “metaphorical etymologies” (Knight 86). We can see this in the entry about cotton when Gerard comments on the German word “Baumwoll, that is, wooll of a tree: Whereas in truth it is rather a small shrub” (753) as he dissects the truth content of the metaphoric name. The entry about cotton is especially interesting to me because, Gerards exoticizes the cotton plant, focusing on it being especially used for ritual garments in other countries, which gives it a more mystical and exotic air, even though he also says that a detailed description of cotton is “superfluous” because it is a “common experience” and in “daily use” (Gerard 754). With this, I believe, he anticipates the mindset that underlies British exploration. Its common use also becomes clear from the use of the name “Bombast” which is an obsolete word for the fibrous part of the cotton plant, taking on a more general meaning of “padding something out, to adding superfluous material, or to forming a layer of protection or insulation,” (OED) which cotton was commonly used for.

Syon Abbey 1597/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1597 edition, page 753 on cotton
Syon Abbey 1597/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1597 edition, page 754 on cotton
Syon Abbey 1597/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1597 edition, page 755

When it comes to his description of the plants, he does not use Latin terms to describe the parts of the plant, but relies on similes like flowers being “the bignesse of a Tenisse ball,” leaves being “not unlike to the leafe of the Vine” and “black seede (…), in shape like the (…) dung of a conie” (Gerard 735). Gerard relies on figurative language to create a sensory understanding of the plants, especially when it comes to exotic plants his readers could never experience for themselves (Knight 88, 89, 92, 94), as is the case with cotton as it was imported from India and the middle east and did not grow in England. These vivid descriptions are also useful to memorize and apply the information. Gerard intended his work as a reference book, asking “courteous and well-willing Readers” for “men of deeper judgement to polish; and to adde to [his] large additions.”

Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 second edition
Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition
Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, ownership plate by William Okes

The Exeter special collections hold another edition of The Herbal from 1636, a second edition “very much enlarged and amended by Thomas Johnson,” while this edition does not have the impressive title page, it does have other treasure. Annotations in this copy show that it was owned by William Okes, who in the very first page of the copy wrote about cross-referencing this herbal with other plant books especially for the plates which he found “useful”. Okes draws on William Hudson’s Flora Anglica (1762) for the Linnean names of plants. Linnean names are a form of biological classification that was established in the 18th century after the Herbal was written and because of that, in several entrances Okes added these alternate Latin names. An example of this is on “Chap 16 Of Sea Spike-Grasse” where he adds the name “Triglochin marinum. Salt water Marsh near Belton. Suffulk” (20): not only does he add names for the plants, but he has recorded for some of them where he found them. Unlike Gerard, Okes was not interested in the exotic but focused on English plants in his efforts to work with the herbal. 

Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, Chapter 16
Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, Chapter 16
Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, Chapter 16

I even found in the entry about “Aromaticall Reeds” that Okes planted reeds “about Exeter in the River Exe. 1790” (62). For some plants he not only added names and places, but also little illustrations and more precise descriptions like for “Friers Cowle or hooded Cuckowpint” (835) and “Water Crow-foot” (829). Even plant specimens can be found with the places on where he got them like “Rocket” (248-249) and “stinking ground Pine” (622-623) from “Lowestofft Suffolk”, and “English Cudweed” from “Grove, Wheatacre Rest Norfolk 7.Sept. 1837” (639). The herbal’s interactive design was so successful that nearly 250 years after its publication it was still used by Okes bringing together traditional book learning and practical field botany, like Gerard intended. 

Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, chapter 45
Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X, John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes, 1636 edition, chapter 205

Sources

John Gerard, The Herball: or, Generall historie of plantes. Hughan Collection 1636/GER/X and Syon Abbey 1597/GER/X 

A manuscript copy of Dialogue betweene a Councellor of State and a Justice of the Peace by Sir Walter Raleigh 

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Article by Kayleigh Swart, MA student of Professor Ayesha Mukherjee’s course ‘Global Voices: Shakespeare and the Early Modern World’

EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s ‘Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, front cover

While locked away in the Tower of London for treason, Sir Walter Raleigh composed a dialogue to discuss the role parliament should play alongside the monarchy. Various copies of this work still exist in the original manuscript form, one of these copies is currently preserved in the University of Exeter’s Special Collections (EUL MS 98).  

The copy in question was created in 1615, the same year as the text was written. The document is currently labelled a ‘copy of the manuscript’, so it is not clear if this particular version was written by Raleigh himself or somebody else. Various manuscripts of this text were circulated around shortly after its creation. A few of these other copies are in the British Library as well as other archives.

The exact journey this manuscript took to end up in the collection is not entirely known but we do have some information on it. In 1953, the manuscript was sold by Maggs Bros. of London, bookdealers to Agnes Latham. It was then given to the University’s library in 1991 by Joyce Youings on Latham’s behalf. Latham was an academic and best known for her work on editing Sir Walter Raleigh’s letters, which explains her ownership of this manuscript.  

EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, page 1

The manuscript itself can only be described as delicate. Even in the above photo, it is clear that the book looks fragile and flimsy. The text is bound in soft vellum; which is another name for animal skin or membrane. Additionally, attached to the cover are two strings which would have been used to tie the manuscript. Both the cover and the strings have started to erode away and appear quite stained. However, the condition of the manuscript is expected for its age. The title on the cover has partly faded, especially over Raleigh’s name; however, it reads: A Dialogue Betweene a Councellor of State and a Justice of Peace Written by Sir Walter Raleigh. The text inside is very neatly handwritten; it could be assumed some form of line guide was used in its creation. The neatness and the binding of the text points to the possibility that this particular copy was recreated to be read by someone other than Raleigh himself. The manuscript also includes a copy of a letter addressed to the King, James I, from Raleigh. After Raleigh’s death, the text found its way into print. It was published in 1628 under the new title: The Prerogative of Parliaments in England: Proved in a Dialogue (pro & contra) betweene a Councellour of State and a Justice of Peace. Whilst the text does not significantly change between manuscript and print form, there are a few word changes or reshuffling of sentences, probably for ease of reading. 

The text itself follows a conversation between the Justice and Councillor about the current problems facing the court and debates if a parliament would be able to solve them. Whilst the form of dialogue does suggest that the text is structured as a debate, the majority of the conversation is dominated by the Justice and his pro-parliament views. Raleigh structures the work to move in a chronological way: firstly, the text begins with recounting the previous Kings and their position within the structure of power in the country. There is strong emphasis on how the Magna Carta played a role in the history of Kings. The text then moves into the contemporary world and discusses present-day problems. Additionally, the two characters debate if calling for a parliament will help or hinder existing issues. An agreement between the two characters is not reached, the councillor saying: “I conclude where I began, these parliaments are dangerous for a king,” while the Justice continues to argue for a parliament. In the final lines the Justice proclaims: “But I only seek to satisfy his majesty”. This suggests that regardless of the political position the text aligns with, it is still shaped by the idea that the King would read and respond to it. So, while Raleigh wants to make his pro-parliament views clear he also has to balance this by proving his loyalty to the crown.

EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, dialogue, page 7
EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, dialogue, page 51
EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, dialogue, final page

Understanding Raleigh’s personal situation also helps unlock the deeper meanings embedded in the text. In 1603, Raleigh was arrested for treason and sentenced, where he was kept imprisoned in the Tower of London for almost fourteen years (Oxford DNB). During his imprisonment he began to write another text: The History of the World. This text was printed and published in 1614, however a few weeks after its publication, the work was supressed by the Archbishop Abbott on royal command (Beer 60). This was likely due to the anti-monarch views allegedly expressed in the book. The Dialogue can therefore be seen as a response to this, having been written only a few months later. In the text, the Justice notes how freedom of speech is necessary to have a successful parliament.  

EUL MS 98 Manuscript copy of Raleigh’s Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace, dialogue, pages 28-29

There is a lot to be learnt from a primary source such as this manuscript that goes beyond simply what it is or what it says. The ability to view and access these pieces of history help progress research in a range of subjects and disciplines. This particular manuscript is a remarkable clue for understanding the political contexts that confronted Raleigh, and the decisions he made in light of them. 

Works cited:   

Beer, Anna. R, Sir Walter Ralegh and his readers in the Seventeenth Century. Macmillan, 1997;   

“James VI and I, King of Scotland, England and Ireland”, Oxford Dictionary of National  Biography. Oxford UP, 2014. Accessed 8 Nov 2025, https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-14592?rskey=PfoJle&result=7#odnb-9780198614128-e-14592-div1-d2270e3993 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, Dialogue between a Councillor of State and a Justice of the Peace. 1615, (EUL MS 98);

“Ralegh [Raleigh], Sir Walter”, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Oxford UP, 2022, Accessed 8 Nov 2025, https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-23039?rskey=AhaqFA&result=4 

Jack Clemo: Exhibition of a Rebel

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By Ted Strange, Special Collections Exhibitions Volunteer

The display case on Level -1 of the Forum Library

Designed to celebrate the life and work of the great Cornish poet, Jack Clemo, this exhibition spans a portion of literary, visual, and personal materials from the Special Collection’s significant Clemo collection. The exhibition is structured to highlight Clemo’s personality and friendships, his literary work, and his marriage. The intention is thus to offer a glimpse into the more extensive offerings of Jack Clemo’s archive, including unpublished literature, personal correspondence, and physical possessions.

I approached this exhibition as a historian with a lived experience of sensory impairment. Admittedly, my interest in disability history was the initial catalyst for approaching the Clemo archive. However, it would be a mistake to over-emphasise the personal life of Clemo, without recognising the primary importance of his remarkable literary career; in fact, his most notable works were published prior to the onset of his blindness. Clemo possessed an incredible natural gift for describing both natural and industrial landscape: his ‘party trick’ was for friends to describe a place to which they had travelled and he would write a short recollection of their experience, including descriptions of things that even they had forgotten they observed. Clemo used these vivid descriptions of his local Cornish clay pits as the background for his fiercely individualist Calvinist poetry. Many enthusiasts will recall the story in ‘Confessions of a Rebel’ in which an adolescent Clemo is being praised by his headmaster to his mother as a ‘born philosopher’. As such, this archive is of particular interest to those interested in both religious and twentieth century West Country literature.

Jack and Ruth Clemo in Weymouth in 1987 [EUL MS 68/PERS/3/1/3]

Female influences loomed large in Clemo’s life and archive. Clemo’s mother, Eveline, raised him alone following the death of his father during the First World War, supporting him throughout his illnesses. Later, he married Ruth Clemo, with whom he shared his happy final years and many Valentine’s cards that can be found in the archive. Marriage was imperative towards Clemo’s vision for God’s plan for his life. It was Clemo’s belief that his marriage had been prescribed as a divine destiny; once he had achieved this goal, his senses would be restored. This did not come to pass, and whilst he sporadically regained some hearing, he spent his adult life being ably supported by Eveline and Ruth (pictured in the top of the exhibition, communicating with Clemo by tracing letters onto his hand).

Some of the most evocative materials in this archive are, naturally, the physical possessions. The conkers from Vallombrosa Woods, shown in the bottom shelf of the exhibition, were stored in a heart-shaped box as a gift to Clemo’s wife. These accompany the numerous love letters between the couple throughout the years of their marriage. The physical possessions in the archive are not limited to Clemo’s romantic relationship; the archive also contains items such as dog fur, which encourages us to consider the value and purpose of retaining such items. Perhaps, in addition to sentimentality, they were stored for their sensory value as someone deprived of major senses.

“It’s odd in a way that you, who are in close and vigorous touch with the everyday world, should rely largely on fancy and imagination for your poetry, while I, who seem cut off from the world, hack out most of my poems with a blunt down-to-earth realism in which there is hardly a trace of fancy – no angels or dragons or daughters of Neptune.” – Letter from Jack Clemo to Charles Causley (9th April 1970)

The wedding party of Jack and Ruth Clemo, Charles Causley is pictured on the far left [EUL MS 68/PERS/3/1/8]

The archive contains a substantial amount of material that will be of interest to enthusiasts of popular poet Charles Causley, a close friend and advocate for Clemo, who would later serve as his best man. In letters from both the archives of Jack Clemo and Charles Causley – some of which have been included in this exhibition – we can see the extensive efforts that Causley goes to, ensuring Clemo’s voice was heard in an environment which often reduced him to a ‘novelty-act’. Causley and Clemo found common ground in their mutual admiration for literature, Cornish upbringing, and close maternal relationships. Whilst Causley’s life took a very different trajectory, fighting in the Second World War and becoming a school teacher, their roots bound them to one another, and they exchanged letters until Clemo’s death in 1994.

Clemo’s story is one of talent and individualism, rather than affliction. His personal experiences must be considered in the context of exploring his archive and exhibiting his life, but they must not be considered the primary reason for his enduring importance. Clemo wrote fiercely about spirituality within the brutal setting of the clay pits, imbuing mysticism with blunt Cornish realism to create a “clear, fiery vision”. Clemo frequently highlighted in his later life, during a resurgence in his popularity, that his story is of love – in marriage and in faith – rather than pity. As he once said to his friend, the painter Lionel Miskin: “When the gospel invades, tragedy goes out”.

With special thanks to Dr Sarah-Jayne Ainsworth and the Special Collections team for passionately supervising this project, and to Michael Spinks for valuable insights into Clemo’s theology as well as fun facts such as Clemo’s ‘party-trick’.

Archival items featured in the exhibition:

The Pamir Commission (EUL MS 152)

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The nineteenth century’s ‘Great Game’ saw diplomatic intrigue, proxy battles and occasional military stand-offs between Britain and Russia as both empires vied for control in central Asia. There were, however, instances of co-operation in the interests of peace, such as the Afghan Boundary Commission which travelled around the northern areas of Afghanistan between 1885 and 1888 in an attempt to agree on the location of the northern border with Russian Turkestan. Matters deteriorated again afterwards, however, leading to an incident in which Colonel (later Sir) Francis Younghusband was detained by Colonel Yonoff in the summer of 1891, and a large number of Afghans were massacred by the Russians nearby the following year. A series of negotiations between the Russians and the British in 1893 and 1894 led to an agreement in March 1895 that a joint Commission would be established once for all to settle the precise boundary between the two empires.

Map of part of the region surveyed by the earlier Afghan Boundary Commission of 1885-1888 from Major A.C. Yate’s England and Russia Face to Face in Asia: Travels with the Afghan Boundary Commission (London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1887) Special Collections Reserve 958.103 YAT

British members of the Commission left India on 20 June 1895 and began a month’s trek up into the Pamir Mountains. The group was led by Major-General M. G. Gerard and consisted of Colonel T.H. Holdich and Major R.A. Wahab of the Royal Engineers, Captain E. F. H. McSwiney (Intelligence), surgeon and naturalist Captain A.W. Alcock of the Indian Medical Service, Ressaidar Zahirulla Khan of the Central India Horse, topographer Khan Sahib Abdul Qhaffir, with two Native Surveyors, as well as sepoys of the 20th Punjab Infantry, local porters and assistants, plus a large number of Kashmir ponies to carry all the food and equipment.

On 22 July they met with their Russian counterparts on the banks of the lake at the ‘Little Pamir’, a broad valley in the eastern part of the Wakhan corridor in NE Afghanistan. . The Russian delegation were headed by General Povalo-Shveikovski, Governor of Ferghana, and comprised a similar mixture of scientific officers, engineers and academics, accompanied by a guard of mounted Cossacks.  In a spirit of fraternal exchange, it was agreed that the lake would from henceforth be known as ‘Lake Victoria’ and the mountains separating the Little Pamir from the Great Pamir would be known as the ‘Nicholas Range’ on the respective maps of each country. The name by which the locals knew these features was not, naturally, considered of great importance.

The Afghan representatives arrived a few days later, the senior delegate being Sardar Ghulam Mohiuddin Khan, the Governor of Faizabad (the capital of Badakshan), assisted by Mufti Ashur Muhammad Khan. Over the next two months the Afghans, Russians and British would travel along the ninety miles of the border region, demarcating the boundary line and signing a series of protocols to confirm their joint agreement on the matter. All this was finally concluded on 14 September, after which the groups parted and began their return journeys.

Full details of the expedition can be found in the official Report on the proceedings of the Pamir Boundary Commission (Calcutta: Office of the Superintendent of Government Printing, India, 1897) which covers 100 pages and includes a narrative of the journey, scientific reports on flora, fauna and geology, as well as individual sections on particular topics of interest, all illustrated with 39 pages of photographs. These were probably taken by Asmatulla Khan, one of the two surveyors assisting Khan Sahib Abdul Qhaffir, and who is described as ‘an excellent draftsman’ who had ‘undergone a short training at Rurki Survey in photography’ (p.46.)

Although we do not have a copy of the Report here in our library, we do have an interesting photo album which contains the same photographs that appear in the Report, albeit in a different order. Unlike the official publication, these photographs are accompanied by captions written in pencil, under which a second hand has written out the captions more clearly, sometimes with small variations. These have clearly been done by someone with knowledge of the region, for there are occasional clarifications or additions of place names.

Who added these annotations? There is a clue in the front of the book, as the University College bookplate (which itself indicates that the album was donated before 1955) has an inscription ‘Given by Miss Hodges, Lustleigh.’ This is almost certainly Miss Angela Barbara Edwards Hodges, who born in Teignmouth in 1892 and is recorded as living at Underwood, Lustleigh, during the 1930s and 1940s. Her father was Henry Francis Edwards Hodges (1860-1900), a Captain in the 1st battalion Royal Irish Rifles. According to Shadbolt’s The Afghan Campaigns of 1878-1880 (London, 1882. p.206) Hodges served in Afghanistan with the 2nd Battalion 15th (Yorkshire East Riding) Regiment during the Afghan wars, taking part in the advance to Kandahar as a probationary staff officer, under the command of Lt.-Colonel R. L. Dashwood. Although he did not accompany the Pamir Commission, he may have had an indirect connection to their work, or at least took sufficient interest in it to acquire a copy of this album.

The photographs have an interests that stretches far beyond imperial history, however, as they include views of local Buddhist monuments and sacred architecture, just as the Henzal stupa and the domed tomb of Bozai Gumbaz.

The album has now been digitised for the Digital Archive of the Middle East (DAME) and can be viewed here as a PDF. The individual photographs can also be viewed here. There are also a growing number of other materials relating to Afghanistan on the DAME website.