One of the most glorious books in our collections is William Bradford's Arctic Regions (London: Low, Marston, Low and Seale, 1873). It is a photographic tour de force assembled by an artist better known for his landscape paintings. Bradford traveled up into Baffin Bay and toured Greenland with two photographers in tow. Rather than seeing the north as a forbidding landscape, Bradford saw, and his photographers captured, a scenic land. In their hands ice formations were not obstacles to shipping and navigation, but wondrous works of nature--at times beautiful, and other times sublime. It is a unique view of the north for its time: when explorers from around the world were trying to conquer the north and find a Northwest Passage for commerce, it pauses to ponder the beauty of a foreign world.
As Bradford put it, "This volume is a result of an expedition to the Arctic Regions, made solely for the purposes of art." His text both waxes poetic and weighs down the images with the kinds of copious detail only a landscape painter would see.
You can see it in all of its glory by asking for Stef G610.B79.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Then comes the public admonition -- not a verdict handed down by the current US judicial system. We don't have any surviving documentation, but we can presume that the accusations in MS-1310, 747217 were read out in the meeting house. (We imagine a deep, ringing voice, with something like thunder in it.)
However, in 1750, Wheelock wrote a letter noting that Sarah had "many Symptoms of a Delirium," she was admonished and the case against her dismissed (MS-1310, 750330). But this admonition should not be so great, Wheelock writes, that it would be "her Ruin."
So, what is this a case of? Was she truly ill (and delirious) in 1747, or in 1750? Was she aging poorly? Was she an outspoken woman in a society that did not approve of such "impertinence"? From these documents, we may never know. Research paper, Dartmouth students?