This year Cotsen acquired three manuscript turn-ups of “The Beginning, Progress, and End of Man,” a rhymed bit of religious doggerel with metamorphic pictures which was virtually unknown until the research of Penn State Professor Jacqueline Reid-Walsh established that it was in circulation from the end of the English Civil War until late in the nineteenth century. It survives mostly in versions made by American, English, and Scottish children with their engaging illustrations, a subject of a previous post.
This category of manuscripts is usually considered a kind of outside art by children, but this new group of related ones, prove that some were made by professional artists. Two of the three are signed and priced by Salathiel Court, a writing master.
Court signature in the Fisher manuscript turn up.
Court’s signature with the price of 2 shillings.
The vertical format of his turn ups is somewhat unusual. The more usual horizontal orientation allows for folding the sheet into panels with flaps and opening one at a time until the entire sequence is revealed. All three of these new acquisitions are stitched into in stiff drab paper wrappers with leather backstrips; two have flaps with “buttonholes” for the fasteners opposite. They are similar enough to suggest that Court may have sold his handiwork bound.
One was produced before 1753, when a William Fisher wrote his name in it.
Fisher’s dated signature
The brightly colored illustrations are spirited, the lion and eagle being two of the best.
The lion in the Fisher manuscript turn up
The eagle and the baby in the Fisher manuscript turn up
The rich man in the Fisher manuscript turn up.
It is an understatement to say that second of the Court turn ups was almost loved to death. Most of the folds are over stitched to keep them from falling apart. Although not quite as detailed or vigorous as the figures in the William Fisher turn up, they are clearly by the same hand.
The lion in the Dixon manuscript turn up
The eagle and baby in the Dixon manuscript turn up
The rich man in the Dixon family manuscript turn up
The flap illustrated with the mermaid’s tail has the signatures of the children John and Hannah Dixon, probably members of a well-known Hexhamshire, Northumberland family. Signatures of an Edward and Robert Dixon are written elsewhere. 
The third example was made by Martin Bell in 1836; it was sold with the Dixon one. It rather looks as if Martin copied the Dixon family copy, but added his own touches.
Martin Bell’s signature sheet
Martin Bell’s drawing of the skeleton
The skeleton in the Dixon manuscript turn up.
Who was their creator, Salathiel Court? More than a little something is known about him because he was a “very singular and eccentric character” who rated a section in Bulmer’s History & Directory of Cumberland (1801). Perhaps if he had not had an extraordinary turn for wit and humour,” he would not have tumbled precipitously into vagabondry, running up debts and associating with “low company.” Being a thirsty man, he was “a living sign of dissipation,” sometimes creating signboards for inns and pubs—whether to pay outstanding bills or to get drinking money is unknown. A story about a job painting a lion signboard survives:
He requested to be allowed to represent it chained, but the man would not go to the expense of such a security. Salathiel, to punish the parsimony of the host, painted the sign in water colours, so that on the first shower of rain…the lion vanished. Being accused of unfair dealing, he replied that “the lion had indeed run away, but it was what might be expected in a wild beast – without a chain.”
During a stint as the town crier, he attracted crowds with this public announcement about a lost wallet:
A big, fat Frenchman lost his purse,
And he can’t find it, which is worse;
He that lost it, let him seek it,
He that found it, let him keep it.”
The Frenchman’s English wasn’t good enough to understand the joke and kept whispering to Court “Ce bien, dat well.” The man recovered his purse in spite of Court’s waggery. One wonders how long he kept that job.
What brought Court down was the performance of illegal marriages, such as unions between people related by marriage. One such couple came before the magistrate, who demanded a copy of the missing marriage certificate. When the husband asked Court for another one, he quoted a quip by Jonathan Swift about a clandestine marriage he performed:
Behind this hedge in stormy weather,
I joined this —– and rogue together,
Let none but He that rules the thunder,
Part this —– and rogue asunder.
Eventually the officials caught up with Court and in the summer of 1760 he was sentenced to be deported to America for fourteen years. After that Court’s trail in Ancestry Library goes cold.
