The Hunt for C.S. Forester

I feel in love with C.S. Forester’s “Hornblower” series in my late teens, on a trip to Vancouver and Seattle. The series had just been reprinted in uniform volumes by Bantam and were on display at Shorey’s in downtown Seattle. I bought them all (I thought) in the summer of 1968. I was still in university.

At the time, I was most certainly not a book collector but I was an avid reader. I read all of the Hornblower novels and then stopped in at a small bookstore that used to be just off Jasper Avenue on 101 Street in Edmonton’s downtown. I found a few more books by Forester and, more interesting, a list of books that he had written courtesy of the clerk, a fellow named Tom. In that brief moment, I became a book collector.

Now at that time Forester’s books were being given away and some were still available in “first editions”. Always a book hound, now I started to learn the nuances of collecting from identifying a first edition to searching for them. The used bookstores of the day did not favour Forester that much – his titles were often in the big bins of books available for a quarter or so. If the book was on the shelves inside, the price was not much higher.

So that is how it all started, so many years ago.

Tom, the sales clerk at the bookstore, ordered in what he could (I attended his marriage years later and ended up only a few miles south – he is a teacher in Dawson Creek, B.C.). Beyond prowling in used bookshops in Edmonton and elsewhere when I traveled, after an initial rush the collection grew slowly. I was hooked but not yet starkers mad.

The Forester shelf in my bookcase remained more or less the same.

Then we moved to Vancouver with new used bookstores to explore. Titles were added, one by one. On what had become annual forays to London I discovered another world – one that could find such books for me thousands of miles away. Bookstores in Charring Cross and such became regular correspondents. I remember one on Bond Street, where I finally found Forester’s one children’s book, “Poo-Poo and the Dragons”. Bertram Rota provided regular offerings. In those days I was just about the only person collecting Forester in any manner so the plums fell to me.

To aid in finding new books, the sequels to Forester by Dudley Pope, Alexander Kent, Patrick O’Brien and others (the “shot and sail” novels that take the place of Westerns in the UK). Somewhere along the line I write to Mrs. Dorothy Forester, then still in Berkley California and she replied with a two-page manuscript of his that was duly framed. I started writing as well to the other writers and soon had a lively exchange with Dudley Pope, Douglas Reeman (“Alexander Kent”) and most of the rest. That led to some wonderful times in London and the UK. Reeman took me to the Savage Club and out for supper to the pub where Nelson stopped on his way to Trafalgar. Yearly trips and visits followed. We used to stay and Mrs. Beever’s Bed and Breakfast and I can still remember the address – 53 Cambridge Street, London, and SW1. Just around the corner from Victoria Station.

On one trip, I made my way out to Redding and Angmering-by-the-Sea and met both Dorothy Forester and his cousin, Stephen Troughbridge-Smith. We chatted and had tea; Mrs. Forested added to my collection with a copy of “U-97” - a play by Forester - and Steven regaled me with tales of his uncle. The next day, early on, I made my way to Dulwich and located Forester’s home from his early days. After the milkman arrived I knocked on the door and introduced myself to the occupant who took me up to the attic room where Forester played his games with tin soldiers and wrote his first (rather bad) books.

Later via the Internet I was to meet John Forester, son of CSF by his first wife. John hates his father. Due to royalties and such, he was in a battle with Stephen. That delayed the Hornblower series for A&E in the USA. Suffice to say I am perhaps the only person to know both sides of the dispute directly from the horse’s mouth.

One year, I placed an ad in “The Bookseller” a weekly publication that tells the trade what books are being published in the UK. I got a letter from an elderly woman in the UK who offered twenty of the Forester books, all complete with dustjacket for One pound each. She had collected books all her life and her architect was now telling her that unless she got rid of some her house would fall down. So now I had signed copies of Forester’s books and the collection was complete!

We moved, from West Vancouver to Vancouver Island and Campbell River. A divorce meant moving again, this time to a farmhouse near Courtenay. By this time, the Forester books had their own bookcase, glass fronted and only for them.

It was insurance that caused me to think about divesting. To insure such books out in the country was a long and complicated affair. I was told that I could ship them to San Francisco for appraisal which might be acceptable. Ah well, that would be expensive.

When I first tired to contact Forester’s widow, I had corresponded with a person named Llewlyn Howand III. He was then an editor with Little, Brown in Boston. I knew he had left to start his own bookshop (and to sail some magnificent yachts). So I contacted him and send the books off to Boston for sale. They ended up at the University of Texas for the magnificent sum of $5000 or slightly more:

http://www.mwilden.com/forester/

http://library.tamu.edu/portal/site/Library/menuitem.32cd556b7355d69343aecb5419008a0c/?vgnextoid=152f8944d32e0010VgnVCM1000007800a8c0RCRD

http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?an=C.S.+Forester&sortby=1&x=40&y=11 ("The African Queen" is over $30,000 alone, with dustjacket…)

In today’s inflated Forester market, those same books would bring in over $100,000. C’est la vie.

Along this long road, I had wonderful times and met fascinating people. I may well add to this tale – consider this a work in progress for there are so many stories to tell…