Freddy Stitt, who has died at the age of 93, was one of the last of the great pioneering post-war county archivists to whom the archive profession and students of history owe so much. He also had the unique distinction amongst his peers of running a county museum service in tandem with both a county archive service and a long-standing private antiquarian library. Scholarly, generous in sharing his vast knowledge of archives, committed, pragmatic and forward-looking, he possessed fine diplomatic skills which were to stand him in good stead throughout his career.Footnote1
Frederick Blair Stitt was born on 22 June 1923 in Croydon, the son of a postal clerk. He grew up in Barnet in north London although his family roots were in Crook in County Durham. He was educated at Queen Elizabeth’s Grammar School, Barnet, where a contemporary remembers him as always being at the top of the class and destined for Oxford. He also excelled in sport, notably discus, shot put and rugby. An open exhibition to Jesus College, Oxford in 1941 to read history was delayed by war service in the Royal Navy, serving first in British coastal command and subsequently in Burma. The lasting and significant consequence of Freddy’s war was meeting his future wife, Bette, a nursing sister in Queen Alexandra’s Naval Nursing Service, when both were embarking a troop ship at Colombo, Ceylon, in November 1945. They married in 1948.
Freddy finally went up to Oxford in January 1946, where he combined study with sport. Having achieved his first degree in 1948, he began research into the medieval agrarian history of the Manors of Great and Little Wymondley in Hertfordshire and was awarded his B.Litt. in 1951. His experience of research, together with the teaching and influence of Dr Kathleen Major, then Lecturer in Diplomatic at Oxford, introduced him to the possibility of archives as a profession. Indeed, he always acknowledged Kathleen Major as having launched him into the archive world. Research at Hertfordshire Record Office allowed him to observe what the job of an archivist entailed. Freddy took the opportunity to examine other classes of documents, notably Quarter Sessions, not only at Hertfordshire but also at Middlesex Record Office. A further incentive was the knowledge that archivists’ jobs were available all over the country. He had absolutely no desire to work in London.
Freddy’s first post in 1949 was as a junior assistant for three months at Staffordshire Record Office. Marguerite Gollancz, Staffordshire’s first county archivist, recorded that he did much useful work, although one of his chief memories was of former surplus Air Raid Precautions shelving buckling under the weight of his careful arrangement of a series of estate volumes. A permanent post followed in the same year at Bedfordshire Record Office. Freddy always maintained that he was appointed only because his wife was available to fill a vacancy as a much-needed theatre sister at the local hospital. The chairman of the Records Committee was also chairman of the local hospital board, a fact which emerged at interview. He thoroughly enjoyed his time at Bedford, learning from its well-established principles and procedures. His particular functions were to supervise the searchroom and to catalogue, standard experience for a young archivist. He was always to retain the greatest respect for Joyce Godber, the exceptionally hard-working Bedfordshire county archivist at the time.
In 1953 Freddy was appointed as Nottinghamshire’s second county archivist. This was a county with three established repositories: the County Record Office, the University of Nottingham and Nottingham City Archives. The County Council had had a county records committee in place since 1913 and, since 1922, a long-standing county clerk who regarded Nottinghamshire’s official records as something of a personal fiefdom. The University was the first to appoint a professional archivist in 1948, followed in 1949 by a somewhat miffed county. The City of Nottingham, which held among other collections the borough records, followed suit a year later. Despite occasionally strained relations with the county clerk, Freddy’s three years in Nottinghamshire were productive. He introduced some of the Bedfordshire archival practices, including subject indexing, continued the rationalization of archive storage, organized evening classes based at the Record Office and was involved in early discussions about the future of Nottinghamshire’s ancient probate records. New collections flowed in. Freddy recalled the difficulties of making survey visits at that time without the aid of a car. His solution was to co-ordinate his journeys to remoter parts of the county with the routine visits of an area surveyor out inspecting roads and bridges.
Freddy also turned his mind to what he considered to be the farcical competition between county record office and university to acquire major family collections. Approaches to the same owners, made by both institutions, created confusion in the minds of potential depositors and loss of confidence in the record office movement. Freddy’s view was that the existing policy of ignoring the issue could not continue indefinitely. His proposed solution in 1955 was a joint scheme between the county, city and university, consisting of a single staff, a joint committee and one set of premises. Bringing the three together would create, in Freddy’s opinion, one of the finest local record offices in the country. He was much influenced in his thinking by the joint archive scheme, devised by Kathleen Major, which had been implemented in Lincolnshire. However, in Nottinghamshire political and administrative differences proved intractable. Nevertheless, the experience was to stand him in good stead for aspects of his future work in Staffordshire.
In May 1956 Freddy became Staffordshire’s second County Archivist and the seventh Librarian of the William Salt Library, Stafford. Since the establishment of the County Record Office in 1947, the Staffordshire appointment has been a dual one, serving two masters, the County Council and the Library’s Trust. The Library, established in 1872, houses the collection of manuscripts, printed books and graphic materials, amassed between 1830 and 1855 by William Salt, a London banker from a Staffordshire family. However, from its foundation it had been the focus for the deposit of privately-owned archive collections, acting essentially as a quasi-record office, while also acquiring the full range of local studies materials. As part of what Freddy termed ‘the community of the county’ the Library’s trustees had no difficulty in attracting the deposit of significant collections. Freddy, remembered as enthusiastic and full of the joys of spring on his arrival, faced three immediate and pressing issues which, taken together, constituted something of a baptism of fire: the future location of the ancient probate records of the Diocese of Lichfield; the urgent need to find new accommodation for the County Record Office; and the rationalization of the Salt Library.
The first proved to be a real test of his diplomacy and foresight. Under the Principal Probate Registry’s reunification plans, preliminary discussions had begun just before Freddy’s arrival concerning the future home of the Lichfield probate records, then held at the Birmingham Probate Registry. There were three competing claims: the County Record Office in Stafford, Birmingham City Library and Lichfield City Council, representing the cathedral city and administrative centre of the diocese. The difficulty with Lichfield’s claim was that the city had no archive repository. Freddy realized that a pragmatic compromise between county and city was the best way to secure the return of the records to Staffordshire. However, this was not just about the future home of 250,000 probate records. Freddy could see that, if a record office could be established in Lichfield, this might lead to the future deposit of the outstanding collection of Lichfield Diocesan records. His solution faced many protracted difficulties – political, financial, practical and diplomatic – before it could be achieved. A joint arrangement between county, city and diocese finally created a record office in Lichfield, utilizing the former probate registry and detailing future financial, staffing and management arrangements. The probate records were duly returned and the Lichfield Joint Record Office opened in 1959. Its establishment and its continuing expansion over the next two decades were among Freddy’s proudest achievements. His foresight proved entirely justified when, on the completion of new purpose-built accommodation in 1968, the Diocese deposited most of its archives.
The second issue was the future of the County Record Office. On its establishment in 1947 it had been accommodated in the attics of County Buildings. In 1956, after nearly ten years of collecting, the County Architect had decreed that the attic floors must take no more weight. New premises had to be found. It was thought desirable that any new record office should be close to the William Salt Library. Negotiations with the Library’s Trust to buy part of their garden for the new site took two years to conclude. Freddy relished the opportunity to design a new record office. His plans were comprehensive, incorporating all the state-of-the-art elements of the time. Completed in 1961, it was only the second post-war purpose-built record office in the country. Freddy was to acquire further funding for, and to oversee, two further major extensions to the building in 1972 and 1982.
Freddy’s third immediate problem was the William Salt Library. The Library’s Trust had positively encouraged the establishment of the County Record Office in 1947, content that its Librarian should also act as County Archivist. However, some trustees considered that the Record Office should and would remain the junior partner on the Staffordshire archival scene. While this would prove to be a vain hope, it was nevertheless a delicate situation for a newly appointed Librarian to handle and resolve. Over the following years Freddy steered both establishments into a mutually supportive rather than a mutually competitive role, much to the benefit of researchers. He was under no illusions about the scale of the practical problems at the Library, although he admitted later that they proved even more formidable than he had envisaged. It held a vast accumulation of archives but there were few usable catalogues and little in the way of indexes for any documents acquired prior to 1940. The problem was exacerbated by trustees, who trawled among the collections for their own interest. Freddy instigated a full-scale survey of the Library’s contents, enabling him to get to grips quickly with their content and significance. Rationalization, systematic cataloguing, indexing and preservation programmes followed, gradually producing order, while the most important family collections were transferred to the County Record Office. His success was reflected in a huge increase in annual visits. An under-used and somewhat disordered antiquarian establishment was transformed into a valued research library. Close working with the Victoria County History staff, based in the Library, was a natural concomitant.
Other developments were underway. Freddy recognized that record offices had a role in supporting schools but appreciated that archivists, not being teachers, were unable to understand the problems of teaching in the classroom. His innovative Schools History Service, established in 1963, offered a pragmatic solution. Developed as a partnership between the Record Office and the Education Department, the county’s advisory officer for history was placed in overall charge of the service with an archive assistant on the Record Office staff. By the mid-1970s the service had progressed to the production of an extensive series of general subject and local history source books to meet different educational needs, a loans service of slides and reproduction objects and annual in-service training courses for teachers. It was one of the very few such services in the country at that time.
Freddy saw the transfer of the County Council’s deeds of title to the Record Office in 1966 as a springboard for future work with the Council’s own records. However, intransigence in the County Clerk’s Department made the introduction of formal records management difficult. The appraisal and transfer of substantial groups of departmental records for permanent preservation was therefore carried out on an ad hoc basis. It produced results. Indeed, there was sufficient progress by 1969 for Freddy to report that the positive role played by his service in local government life should silence any critics, who viewed record offices as ‘fuddy duddy luxuries’.Footnote2 This was further reinforced by the highly efficient survey and transfer of local authority records at local government reorganization in 1974, entrusted to the capable hands of David Robinson, Freddy’s assistant county archivist.
His experience in Nottinghamshire encouraged Freddy to build bridges to obviate potential collecting rivalries and tensions. A good working relationship with Keele University Library was established, based on a formal agreement in 1960. This clearly defined Keele’s future collecting activity in relation to the County Record Office and provided mutual benefits, including the temporary transfer of documents to Keele for research and the exchange of catalogues and information. This relationship was reinforced by Freddy’s later appointment as an honorary lecturer in the History Department, a role which he carried out for twelve years. Co-operation with the large industrial boroughs in the county, a number of which had archive collections, was also developed. Freddy sought to ensure that the Record Office acted as adviser and provider of specialist archive services. Throughout the county he was supportive of the large number of local history societies, becoming a popular and entertaining speaker at their meetings.
Always convinced that conservation was one of the most important aspects of record office work, Freddy ensured that his conservators were well trained, sending them to Bedfordshire Record Office in the days before the Conservators’ Training Scheme was established. Whenever finance allowed, he implemented improvements to the conservation workshop. The reprographics facilities were enhanced by the purchase in 1961 of a Photostat camera from the Furness Ship Building Company of Billingham for £100, which enabled the copying of outsize documents. Although cumbersome, it proved to be an enormous boon for researchers until well after Freddy’s retirement.
In 1961 Freddy’s career took an unconventional turn for a county archivist. Shugborough, the ancestral home of the Earls of Lichfield, had been offered to the Treasury in lieu of estate duty. The Treasury had passed it to the National Trust who, finding the endowment inadequate to enable them to run it themselves, sought a suitable tenant and approached Staffordshire County Council. At the time the Shugborough estate offered the County the opportunity to meet a number of pressing demands, including the establishment of a county museum. Following complex and protracted negotiations, the County Council entered into a 99 year lease with the National Trust for Shugborough Hall, its gardens, parkland and woodland. Freddy was charged with developing and overseeing the management of the mansion house, gardens and stables, the latter to be converted for museum purposes. So, as well as running the Archive Service and the Salt Library, he found himself having in short order to establish from scratch a museum while also turning the mansion house into a visitor attraction. His objectives for the new museum were quite clear: that it should become an active, social and educational centre, not simply another country house museum; and that, as much as possible, it should reflect past social and economic life in the county.
Both house and museum were formally opened to the public in April 1966, with the first curator working under Freddy, in itself an unusual arrangement. Museum, mansion house and gardens were soon drawing large numbers of visitors. The next few years saw two ground-breaking innovations. The first was the development of a new interest in the domestic offices and servants’ work as part of the country-house experience. The second was the preservation from demolition of the former home farm at Shugborough for use as a working farm museum, the first in the country. Always acknowledging that his curators were the museum professionals, for over twenty years Freddy secured resources to enable the Museum’s continued steady and successful development, often in a less than generous financial climate.
Shugborough was a considerable test of Freddy’s diplomatic skills and wisdom. Balancing the administrative requirements of a county council with the often competing demands of the National Trust and the Earl of Lichfield, who retained private accommodation in the mansion house, was difficult. Local government reorganization in 1974 brought further issues for resolution within the County Museum Service, not least as a result of the absorption into the county of the City of Stoke-on-Trent. The next few years saw Freddy’s involvement in increasingly complex negotiations between county and city. As a result of this, in 1975 he instigated a major and innovatory reorganization of archive duties at the County Record Office, allocating to each archivist a clear area of functional responsibility, while his assistant county archivist became responsible for formulating record office policy. This provided a level of job satisfaction and experience which was much valued, while also ensuring steady progress and development in all aspects of archive work. When in 1983 new management arrangements were put into place for Shugborough and the County Museum Service, Freddy was able to devote his remaining two years in post entirely to the Archive Service and Salt Library.
At his retirement in 1985 Freddy could look back on a wealth of achievement: the growth of an innovative, responsive and highly-regarded archive service; a purpose-built county record office; the creation and development of the diocesan record office; the transformation of the William Salt Library; the establishment of the County Museum; and the development of Shugborough. Aside from these tangible successes, he had guided the development of his three ‘services’ with clear-sighted determination and whole-hearted commitment, never losing his belief in their value nor his enthusiasm for their fundamental purpose.
Freddy held strong views about the qualities required to be a county archivist, primarily sufficient personality be able to convince ones’ employers and the owners of documents of the value of a record office. He lived up to his own expectations. His success in negotiating the deposit of major collections, working with the ‘community of the county’, was evident. Many of the collections which form the bedrock of the Staffordshire Archive Service today are due to his indefatigable energy and powers of persuasion. Notable among these is the massive collection of the Dukes of Sutherland and, Freddy’s personal favourite, the papers of the Earls of Stafford and Dukes of Buckingham. He maintained good relationships with depositors and showed a keen sense of responsibility to them, following the principle that privately-deposited documents should not be used for legal purposes without the owner’s permission. Being a county archivist did not preclude him from getting his hands dirty and he continued to participate in survey work and major clearances as time allowed. In his early days at Stafford, he is remembered for his enthusiasm to examine documents in any location. A former colleague recalls a visit with him to an old workhouse in South Staffordshire to tackle a small room, stuffed with papers and volumes up to the ceiling, with a truss and some coal thrown in for good measure. Freddy had an inimitable way of getting through dirty and unpleasant work on the ground. On one memorable trip to survey the archive of a firm of Black Country solicitors, the work was carried out in a very dark, dank cellar with no electric light. Torches had to be used and maggots were encountered in bundles of rotting deeds. However, Freddy kept spirits up by singing rugby songs so that, at the end of the day, he and his accompanying archivist emerged filthy and tired but, thanks to him, still cheerful.
Freddy was determined that committee members were clearly informed about the importance of archives. His committee reports on the content and significance of collections are masterpieces of interpretation for an audience largely unfamiliar with historical context and the complexity of archival documents. His approach to museum matters was similar. On one occasion members were presented with a copy of his published article on one of the earliest and most significant museum acquisitions, the Shrewsbury Coach collection. (The Shrewsbury Coach Collection, County Councils Gazette, 1966). Fifty years on it is still regarded as a fine summary.
Freddy’s knowledge of the collections in his care was unrivalled and he was widely respected among users of the service. Advising readers, as they were called in Staffordshire, was of paramount importance to him. He maintained that there was a clear difference between giving readers merely what they asked for and what they actually needed. For this reason he was always concerned that his archivists had sufficient knowledge, not simply to be able to advise correctly but to go that extra mile. He led by example. Long-standing readers recall Freddy’s habit of bursting into the reading room, interrogating its occupants on what they had found, absorbing the answers and then suggesting yet further documents to examine. Sometimes they were invited into his office for a more in-depth discussion, usually rather one-sided, but always with the intention of guiding them to sources which they might not have considered. It was an invaluable practice and readers readily recognized that Freddy’s knowledge was incomparably greater than theirs. Attuned to new areas of historical research, he was clear that, if record offices were to flourish, collecting activity had to adapt to meet research needs.
Throughout his career, Freddy had an abiding interest in the training of archivists. He held trenchant views about the calibre of would-be entrants to the profession. Record offices were not refuges from the world for the shy introvert. Between 1963 and 1966 he served on a Society of Archivists’ committee established to discuss recruitment and training with the archive training schools. Cataloguing was a particular issue for him: first, because without it there could be no access to collections and, second, because he felt that the archive training courses could not provide adequate practical tuition to develop this particular skill. In 1985 he contributed to the Society’s in-service training course on The Listing of Archival Records with a comprehensive and thought-provoking paper, drawing on his years of experience to set out the archivist’s viewpoint on the kind of lists needed. (Published in The Listing of Archival Records, Society of Archivists, 1986) He was subsequently invited by David Robinson, the Society’s Registrar for the distance learning course, to produce the cataloguing module and to act as tutor. David Mander offers a personal reflection on his experience of Freddy’s tutelage in an annex to this obituary. Freddy’s views on cataloguing were instilled into his archivists. The greatest amount of information and context should go into each list but without the time and effort of full calendaring. When a substantial catalogue was completed, he would peruse it. The responsible archivist was usually summoned to his office to discuss the end product, sometimes to having to justify why certain decisions had been taken in respect of classification and arrangement. His own expertise in medieval records was unrivalled and he was always available to help with questions of interpretation.
Freddy was generous in praising staff when he believed that they had done a good job but when something went wrong his displeasure was more than evident. A regular reader in the 1970s contrasted Staffordshire with a neighbouring office, where failure to find a document in its correct location would be marked by a deathly hush. In Staffordshire, however, there would be uproar until the missing item was found.
The appointment as William Salt Librarian required residence in the Library as a condition of employment. The Librarian’s accommodation was not self-contained. There were simply parts of the building which were the family quarters and to be respected by the staff as such. Thus Freddy and Bette brought up their three children in an inconvenient, early eighteenth century town house, which extended over three floors, plus cellars, cheek by jowl with all the activity of the Library’s public service. Their youngest son has the distinction of being born in the Library, Tantalizing smells of cooking – and Bette was an outstanding cook – wafted through the Library. Invitations to dinner were often extended to long-standing research students. One recalls how much he welcomed the change from the lonely life of bed and breakfast establishments, enjoying the experience of eating with the family of enthusiastic children and then being shown afterwards Freddy’s extensive model railway. For readers, the domestic nature of the Library simply reinforced its exceptional appeal.
Ever the scholar, Freddy carried out research throughout his working life and into retirement. His involvement at Shugborough led to his study of its lost village and the creation of its eighteenth century park. It remains the definitive work on this subject. (Shugborough. The End of a Village. Collections for a History of Staffordshire Fourth Series, Volume 6, 1970). His detailed study of the medieval estates of Farewell Priory in Staffordshire was a graceful and fitting tribute to Jane Hampartumian, one of his Lichfield archivists, who died in 1992 as the result of a road accident and who had done much of the original transcription work.Footnote3 (A Small Mediaeval Landowner: Farewell Priory, Its Estate and Tenants, 1290–1440. Staffordshire Studies, Volume 16, 2005). A lifelong interest in naval history was enhanced for Freddy by his work at Shugborough, the birthplace of Admiral George Anson. His major lecture at Keele University in 1990 to mark the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of Anson’s circumnavigation of the globe was subsequently published. (Admiral Anson at the Admiralty, 1744–1762. Staffordshire Studies, Volume 4, 1991–1992). A forthright and comprehensive article for this Journal on the early years of the Society of Local Archivists set out the preoccupations, priorities and problems of the post-war archivists and captured the spirit of that time. It is essential reading to understand the history of our profession. (The Post-War Decade 1945–55, Journal of the Society of Archivists, Volume 19, no 1, 1998).
In 1987 Freddy was awarded an honorary Doctorate of Letters from Keele University in recognition of his outstanding and distinguished contribution to archives and to scholarship. It was richly deserved. He shared the platform at the graduation ceremony with Glenda Jackson in her pre-Parliamentary days. In his typically self-effacing manner, however, friends heard little or nothing of the occasion.
Shortly after retirement, Freddy suffered a serious illness and lost part of his sight, something he never complained about. Although driving was impossible after this, he and Bette spent much time travelling abroad and in this country for as long as they were able. Their family always remained a great source of pride and joy to them. Freddy continued to follow with keen interest later developments in the archive world, always excited by the advances in the profession. His advice, if sought, was always given with kindness, consideration and wisdom.
Freddy will always be remembered as a larger than life figure, whose legacy to Staffordshire’s archives and museum services is unparalleled. Yet his legacy goes further. His encyclopaedic knowledge of archives and his generosity in sharing it has been of inestimable value to students of the county’s history at whatever level. He would be astonished, embarrassed and delighted in equal measure to read the following words of a long-standing reader: ‘An immensely likeable and kind man, an enthusiast in a job he loved, he helped make me, like many other students, an historian’.Footnote4 There can be no finer tribute.
Thea Randall
Annex
I was one of the first round of applicants accepted on the course, coming from a background in librarianship and with a librarian’s take on cataloguing and organizing knowledge. Freddy was a thorough and patient tutor, coping with my library-orientated views. One particular exercise of mine in the early 1980s started a dialogue of a different order. I had produced a piece on the records of the manor of Walthamstow Toney and, without checking the manorial documents register, had asserted that the earliest surviving register dated from 1677. Back came the marked exercise, with an accession record for a court book for the years 1509–1535, taken in as a stray into Staffordshire Record Office amongst a collection of local solicitors’ papers. It ought to have wended its way to an appropriate repository some years previously, but both staff at Vestry House Museum and Essex Record Office had laid claim, and Freddy, not wishing to exercise the judgement of Solomon, had hung on it. With at least one of the claimants having retired, Freddy felt this was the opportunity for it to leave Staffordshire’s care. I was invited to come to the William Salt Library to collect it.
I was duly welcomed and given a personal tour of the record office, built in his back garden as Freddy said, looking out from the bay window of his study towards the back of the building. There were all the signs of pioneering – including the Photostat copier, perhaps at that time somewhat past its best. It was all very friendly and genial and I remain grateful to Freddy for spending time with a relatively junior member of the profession. There was a rail strike in progress, and so I was going on to Birmingham by bus rather than try to make it back to London. There was time for further hospitality and Freddy and his wife took me back to the residential bit of the Library, finishing the tour with the look into the original approved manorial store, at that time the Stitt wine cellar, and a chop on the premises – still the only one I have eaten in a repository!
Freddy was one of the post-war greats among county archivists and many will value his contribution to training archivists in the pitfalls and pleasure of cataloguing.
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Notes
1. I am very grateful to the following for their contributions to this obituary: Helen Burton, Chris Copp, Mark Dorrington, Dudley Fowkes, Douglas Hay, Sister Ruth Kidson MSHR, David Mander, Rebecca Murphy, Paul and Mary Olsen, Isobel and David Robinson, Pamela Sambrook, Mark and Hugh Stitt, Richard Wisker.
2. Staffordshire Record Office: CC/B/87/4, minutes of County Records Committee, 20 September 1969.
3. An obituary to Jane Hampartumian appears in Journal of the Society of Archivists, Vol.14, No.1, Spring 1993.
4. Professor Douglas Hay, Osgoode Law School, York University, Toronto.