Mean while, Trotsky's widow carried on an active correspondence with many of her husband's colleagues and by the time of her death in the early sixties she had acquired an extensive archive of her own. About four years ago these papers where purchased by Harvard from Trotsky's grandson, Seva, and they were added to the other archives.

For many years the Trotsky papers were shrouded in controversy. Barely more than a year after their acquisition the Soviet Union was fighting with Britain and the United States against Germany, and Stalin was hailed in the West as an ally and hero. In this atmosphere library officials were not anxious to have the archives of Stalin's arch-enemy thrown open for public inspection. For more than five years the papers lay in a locked vault in the basement of Widener and no one was allowed to make use of them. Only after a formal decision by the Harvard Corporation were the papers removed from the vault and made accessible to scholars.

A large part of the archives, however, covering the period of Trotsky's exile (1929-1940), remained closed to everyone in keeping with Trotsky' instructions. Fearful of exposing his collaborators to the wrath of Stalin, Trotsky insisted that his correspondence with the members of his still-born Fourth International should remain classified until 1980. The only scholar to evade this ban has been Trotsky's biographer, Isaac Deutscher, who was given permission to use the closed section of the archives by Trotsky's widow. In The Prophet Outcast, the third volume of his biographical trilogy, Deutscher quotes extensively from many of the documents which will not be made public until 1980.

The non-classified papers now fill 94 boxes in the stacks of Houghton Library, Harvard's chief depository for rare books and manuscripts. The archives, like all of Houghton's collections, are maintained at an even 70 degrees F. and 50 percent humidity to ensure their physical survival. The classified archives, including all of Sedova's papers, are kept in 4E boxes in a locked room along with a number of other classified collections.

The job of indexing the papers was begun by a team under Columbia's George Fischer, but much remains to be done, and the library still has a man spending part of one day each week working on the archives. The open section is now divided into three units: the Soviet Correspondence, the Works, and the Ephemera. Much of the collection consists of letters--for example, a letter from Lenin to Trotsky dated December 13, 1918, marked "Urgent--Top Secret." The letter deals with military affairs. In addition to the letters and the manuscripts of many of his books, there are also clippings from dozens of newspapers in several languages, often with a sentence or paragraph underlined by Trotsky in red, or perhaps a few words in Russian written in the margin.

But undoubtedly the most thrilling aspect of the archives are the documents which Trotsky has written and then revised. When he wanted to insert an extra paragraph into an article or chapter, he would type it out on a separate piece of paper and the paste it on to the edge of the original. This appendage could then be folded over to leave the document in its original size. In many cases the urge to make additional points led him to add appendage to appendage until a document, which can be folded down to a convenient eight inches by ten inches, would cover a table top when fully opened.

William H. Bond, director of Houghton Library, who is familiar with the original papers of E.E. Cummings, T. S. Eliot, John Keats and many others, says that no poet or novelist ever revised his own writing more than Leon Trotsky.

At the time of the acquisition of the Trotsky archives Harvard already had in extensive collection of rare books and manuscripts, but certainly nothing even remotely similar to the Trotsky papers. During the twenties and thirties Archibald Carey Coolidge, then director of the Harvard libraries, bought for the University a substantial number of books from Russia which were put on sale by the Bolshevik government in order to raise foreign currency. Metcalf, who took over Coolidge's job in 1937, had previously been with the New York Public Library--which had the best useable collection of Russian material in the United States at that time. But Metcalf's experience in New York and the tradition of Coolidge are hardly enough to explain the imaginative wisdom behind the purchase of the Trotsky papers. Metcalf recognized the immense historical value in obtaining the archives of a practicing revolutionary and when he learned that the papers were available he went out to look for money. He found a wealthy businessman, an alumnus, who was strongly interested in anti-communism, and Metacalf decided to tackle him. With the $10,000 he obtained Metcalf was able to make Trotsky an acceptable offer.

Since that time the merit of his decision has become increasingly clear. No scholar writing on Trotsky--or, for that matter, on the Russian Revolution -- can afford to overlook the Trotsky archives in Houghton library. In recent years even a few scholars from the Soviet Union have looked at the papers. Bond, Houghton's president librarian, has shown a number of Russians through the library and several have asked to see the Trotsky archives. One historian, after briefly examining Trotsky's diary, commented "Yes, that's his handwriting." Several years ago a former Russian Minister of Culture asked permission to look at the Trotsky papers.

It is ironic but nonetheless appropriate that Trotsky should have died on the very day he learned that his papers would be properly preserved and protected. His years in exile were filled with disappointment, but at least he was not denied the satisfaction of knowing that the letters and books and notes that he had collected over a lifetime would be cared for by a library that fully understood their historical and personal importance