Rauner Library Blog

Whitman on the Green

2012-01-31T08:10:00.000-05:00

On June 26, 1872, a bearded, robust poet of moderate fame appeared before the graduating class and faculty of Dartmouth College to deliver the Commencement poem. Listed in the account books simply as “Poet $17.50,” Walt Whitman was not an obvious choice. In fact, it was reported that he was invited by the United Literary Societies in an effort to offend the genteel, conservative tastes of the Dartmouth College faculty. Whitman was also considered risqué in most American literary circles. He had his supporters—Ralph Waldo Emerson perhaps chief among them—and he could command substantial payment for his poems by well-established literary magazines such as the Atlantic. But to middle-class American readers, and to the faculty of most New England colleges, his expansive free verse was far too sensual and unorthodox for their liking.

Eyewitness accounts of the recitation vary: one claims a disheveled poet mumbled his way through an incomprehensible poem while another states that he gave a fine, clear reading. Whitman himself provided the New York media with a press release that apparently was never used, though both the New York Times and the Boston Daily Advertiser had reporters on the scene to cover the Commencement exercises.

Whitman’s own account of his stay in Hanover provides a telling portrait of Dartmouth in 1872. He reported to his longtime companion Pete Doyle:

It is a curious scene here, as I write, a beautiful old New England village, 150 years old, large houses and gardens, great elms, plenty of hills—every thing comfortable, but very Yankee—not an African to be seen all day—not a grain of dust—not a car to be seen or heard—green grass everywhere—no smell of coal tar.—As I write a party are playing base ball on a large green in front of the house—the weather suits me first rate—cloudy but no rain. Your loving WALT.

If you are interested in Whitman, come in and ask to see our first edition of Leaves of Grass (the picture above is the frontispiece to the first edition), Val 816 W59 S8.

Calling Cards

2012-01-26T17:52:00.002-05:00

The elaborate and often arcane rules of etiquette in the nineteenth century demanded the proper use of calling cards when visiting or "calling on" an acquaintance. These cards were very like modern business cards and it was customary for a visitor to leave his or her card as a prelude to a visit. If they then received a card from the acquaintance, that meant that they were welcome to return. No return card was a message that a visit was discouraged - an early equivalent of temporarily un-friending someone. During the nineteenth century, the well mannered - and perhaps slightly vain - visitor might send in a carte de visite - a small, typically albumen type photograph measuring about 2 x 3.5 inches (the size of a standard calling card) mounted on thick paper, which often highlighted some important or characteristic aspect of the caller's life. This card shows actor Charles Fechter as Hamlet - a role he was famous for.

Due in part to the relatively low cost of production (eight carte de visites could be produced from one plate) and the early publication of Napoleon III's photo in this small format, carte de visites became extremely popular. Like more recent baseball trading cards, those of famous people were collected, traded, and displayed. A collection of impressive carte de visites was considered to be an asset for every Victorian household and specially made albums were sold to house and display the collected images. This small collection of forty-five cards includes those of then Prince of Wales Edward VII and Princess Alexandra, Mark Twain, Louisa May Alcott, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Charles Dickens and opera singer Christina Nilsson.

Edward VII & Alexandra

Louisa May Alcott

Mark Twain

Nathaniel Hawthorne

Christina Nilsson

Charles Dickens

Ask for Iconography 1394.

"Safe Conduct" Leaflets

2012-01-24T13:50:00.000-05:00

A common practice during World War II was the dropping of surrender leaflets on military troops and civilians on both sides of the conflict. By the time the Americans entered the war in 1941, the practice was already well established albeit with questionable success. The allied leaflets that were in use had no uniformity. They were of different color and size and had varying surrender instructions. Under the supervision of the United States, the Allies not only standardized the leaflets but used all their psychological warfare resources to design a "Passierschein" that was eminently more successful. For example, it was assumed that Germans would be more inclined to believe documents that looked official, so the Allies added the great seals of the United States and Great Britain, as well as Eisenhower's signature to the leaflet. The text urging Germans to surrender is in German and English. The text on the back, which quotes excerpts from the Haager Convention (1907) and from the Geneva Convention (1912) on the rights of prisoners of war, is in a font typically used by German authorities. According to an article by SGM Herbert A. Friedman (Ret.), this particular leaflet was dropped from September 1944 to March 1945.

Whereas the "Safe Conduct" leaflet leaves no doubt as to where it originated, a typical German surrender leaflet was more obscure in its origin. It is only upon reading that the source becomes clear. Delivery and execution of this type of "grey" propaganda fell to a special branch of Goebbels propaganda machine, the propaganda company (PK), whose purpose it was to disseminate positive but also misleading and false information, using the same psychological warfare methods as the allies.

German Produced "Surrender" Leaflet

To take a look at these and other World War II propaganda materials ask for MS-995 or Broadside 001459.

Lost and Found

2012-01-20T08:40:00.000-05:00

We made a wondrous discovery right before the holiday break. In the late 1960s, Mark Lansburgh '49, donated several medieval manuscripts to the collection, among them two stunning leaves from a fifteenth-century Breviary. The leaves were documented in a catalog of Darmouth's manuscript holdings in 1971, but then disappeared. For at least 30 years we have been tormented by the Breviary. Was it sent back to the donor? Could it have been stolen? Is it somewhere right in front of us and we are missing it? We looked and looked and looked, but to no avail.

Then, this December while reshelving some rare books, one of our staff members noticed an unmarked portfolio in amongst our Shakespeare collection. He pulled it off the shelf and lo and behold, there were the Breviary leaves. They had been shelved incorrectly back when Special Collections still resided in the Treasure Room in Baker Library. Some have theorized that the manuscript had been tucked in with the Shakespeare collection in the Treasure Room so it could be pulled out to impress visitors as a colorful accompaniment to our First Folio, then forgotten. Whatever the reason, finding it was a Holiday thrill for us and for Mark Lansbugh whom we called immediately.

Beneventan Antiphony

Liber Glossarum

Two of the most celebrated medieval manuscripts in the Dartmouth College Library were donated by Mark Lansburgh. The earliest item among his gifts is a leaf of a Liber Glossarum circa 825; it is complemented by another ninth-century piece, a leaf of a Beneventan Antiphony that is perhaps the oldest known fragment containing musical notation found in the United States. Also included in the collection are a series of fourteenth-century accounts, bills, and receipts. The eclectic selection (music, a glossary, and the mundane merchant accounts) helps students piece together bits of medieval life for a deeper understanding of abstract descriptions they discuss in class.

If you want to see the long lost Breviary, come in and ask for Lansburgh 53.

Tight Lacing

2012-01-17T15:48:00.001-05:00

"The human system is a curious and complicated machine, wonderfully wrought by the hand of nature, composed of various organs of different textures, whose natural functions are intimately connected with the enjoyment of perfect health." So opens Jeremiah Lyford’s 1832 thesis on Tight Lacing. Lyford, a medical student at Dartmouth Medical School, goes on to list some of the ill effects on the body caused by the practice of corseting or "tight lacing" prevalent in the early 19th Century. These include diminished lung capacity, which in turn leads to contaminated blood. He also notes that pressure is placed on the heart. The stomach is also affected leading to dyspepsia and heartburn, among other maladies. But it also has a negative effect on the external body. These Lyford states are "disgusting to all admirers of real taste and beauty. It disfigures the beautiful and upright shape, which nature has given to the body…"

As you read this thesis it becomes clear that, while Lyford is approaching this as a medical issue, he has a strong, personal objection to this practice. In concluding he states "The habit deserves the reprobation of a virtuous community; of every individual, who would be helped through life with an agreeable companion and who would see the youth and rising generation blooming and healthy."

This is an interesting perspective by a man of this period on a woman's fashion that would last into the early part of the next century. Lyford, and other medical students writing on this topic for their theses, open the door to some interesting research into male opinion and influence over women’s fashion in the Victorian period. Besides tight lacing, Rauner holds hundreds of medical theses (1797-1882) on a wide variety of topics, which, like tight lacing, lend themselves to historical or social research.

The theses have recently been the focus of a preservation project to disbind them to create better and easier access. This work has been done by the Library's Preservation Services Department. To learn more about this process and see images from some of these theses see Preservation Services blog post: A Look Inside: The Early Medical Thesis Disbound

Ask for DA-3, Medical Theses (1832) to see Lyford's thesis. The images are from the Nellie Peirce Collection ML-19.

Dime Novels

2012-01-13T15:39:00.000-05:00

Enormously popular and critically maligned, the dime novel was one of the first forms of mass culture in the United States. The Western adventure story dominated the dime novel industry in the 1860s and 1870s. Tales of the frontier, wherever it was – upstate New York, the Great Plains, or the California gold country – defined a mythical American identity. These “Books for the Million!” justified Western expansion with mail-order myths of violent transgressions, passionate romances, and thrilling rescues.

The captivity narrative – in which a white protagonist (usually a woman) is abducted by Indians, with whom she sometimes comes to sympathize – was a popular trope in Dime Novels. In Stanley Henderson’s Prairie Chick, or, The Quaker among the Red-skins (New York: Frank Starr, 1877), the protagonist is revealed to be the daughter of a frontiersman who chose to live among the Indians; united with her white half-sister, she moves East, “where she was easily persuaded to renounce her Indian habits and attire, and become a civilized being.”

Rauner has a large collection of 19th–century Dime Novels. You can see Prairie Chick by asking for Dime Novel 160.

The Wheelock Passport

2012-01-10T17:37:00.001-05:00

This document, which is much more impressive when you see it in real life since it is quite large at 26.5 x 27 inches, is John Wheelock's passport. Though actually a letter of introduction, it served a similar purpose to today's modern document and contains the signatures of George Washington and congressional members representing twelve of the thirteen colonies, all of whom supported John's mission to Europe to raise additional funds for the fledgling college.

Washington's Signature

The "passport" actually starts with the story of Eleazar Wheelock's first trip to the old world. The elder Wheelock had initially supplemented his income as a minister by tutoring and had taught an Indian student named Samson Occom who eventually went on to become a minister in his own right. Buoyed by this success Wheelock devised the idea that he could Christianize the "heathen" by training select native boys for the ministry.

In 1765 he sent Occom, in the company of another minister, Nathaniel Whitaker to England to raise funds so that he could start a school. People flocked to see Occom preach and his performances must have been impressive because the trip was a resounding success as Occom and Whittaker collected about £12,000 - the approximate equivalent of $1.3 million dollars in today’s money. They reported £9494 raised in England and another £2529 raised in Scotland - though the Scottish money was never actually received. The money allowed Wheelock to begin the process of creating the institution that would in 1769 become Dartmouth College, which he named after one of the most generous English donors, Lord Dartmouth.

John Wheelock

Unfortunately, John Wheelock’s venture was not as well favored. He and his brother James set out for France and on arrival in Paris met with Benjamin Franklin who was polite, but less than happy to see them. Franklin was just arranging for a large grant in aid from the French government and did not want to damage his prospects. He packed the Wheelock brothers off to the Netherlands as quickly as he could, where they managed to raise some funds, but the burgeoning peace agreement between England and the U.S. and its potential damage to Dutch trade prevented the level of giving they had hoped for. They next traveled to England where their reception was cool, but polite. While a few people were willing to give to their cause the takings were minimal.

On the return voyage their ship sank in a storm off the coast of Cape Cod and all the money, instruments and documents they were carrying were lost causing John’s detractors to claim that the trip barely paid for itself. The irony is that despite this early set back, John Wheelock, who is a bit of a villain in the history of the College, brought Dartmouth to financial solvency for the first time in its history before he died.

Ask for Mss 782900 to see the "passport."

The World of Tomorrow

2012-01-06T08:17:00.000-05:00

The 1939 New York World's Fair, "Building the World of Tomorrow," was a grand spectacular celebrating progress. It optimistically looked forward to a future where science and technology would usher in a world of ever growing prosperity and peace. World War II, concentration camps, and the atomic bomb would chill this notion, but in 1939, as the Great Depression waned, the fair's theme resonated with the American public.

This souvenir peepshow created by Elizabeth Hale and the famous type designer Warren Chappell, offers the viewer a glimpse of the utopian future: the fair itself. The book's structure allows it to collapse then fold out like an accordion to create depth.

Come take a peep by asking for Rare GV1525.H3 W6 1939

Association Copies

2012-01-03T16:17:00.001-05:00

Sometimes a book is exciting not so much for its contents but because of its past: the places it has been or the hands that once held it. This copy of John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress (London: John Murray and John Mayor, 1830) is in our collections not because it is a particularly rare edition, but because its bookplate makes it highly collectable: it belonged to Charles Dickens.

In other cases, rare editions, valuable in their own right, take on a magical quality because of a simple bookplate or signature. Here is Henry James' copy of the first edition of Swift's Gulliver's Travels (London: Benj. Motte, 1726), and William Morris' copy of The Story of the Moste Noble and Worthy Kynge Arthur (London: Wyllyam Copland, 1557). While it is easy to think of Morris enjoying Malory, it is more challenging to imagine how Dickens read Bunyan or James dealt with Swift.

You can see them all by asking for Val 826D55 FB9 (Bunyan) Rare PR3724.G7 1726c (Swift), and Rare PR2043.W5 1557 (Malory).

...And a Polar New Year

2011-12-30T07:19:00.000-05:00

George W. Rice sounded hopeful in his diary on January 1st, 1882. As photographer to the 1881-1884 Lady Franklin Bay Expedition lead by Adolphus Greely, he had just finished "an excellent New Year's dinner" of turkey. It had been a relaxing day. He noted that many of the party took "a siesta... as they were somewhat exhausted from marching the Old Year out and the New One in." The 31st had been "a cool and pleasant day--the evening was given over to Bacchus and Terpsichore." "Cool" is relative: he recorded the temperature at 34.1 to 46.2 degrees below zero.

Greely's Lady Franklin Bay Expedition is one of the most harrowing on record. Only seven members of the party survived after a series of disasters left them stranded in the arctic. Rice's daily diary continues until August 2nd, 1883. Later that week, Greely ordered the men to abandon all unnecessary items (including this diary) in an attempt to reach Littleton Island where rescue was more likely. Rice survived until April 1884, two months before a rescue party reached the seven survivors.

To see the diary and learn more about Rice, ask for Stef MS 186.

An Arctic Christmas...

2011-12-22T09:59:00.000-05:00

On Christmas Day, 1903, Anthony Fiala lifted a holiday toast to his crew at Camp Abruzzi on Crown Prince Rudolf Island. The expedition, funded by William Ziegler, had departed in June from Norway on an expedition to discover the North Pole. The crew was in good spirits this first Christmas in the Arctic, and they dined well on Creamed Alaska Salmon, Yankee Chicken Croquettes, and Danish Grouse. The meal ended with ice cream, served at "30 below."

Anton Vedoe record the evening's festivities in his diary:

The banquet itself was a great success and seldom has in the Arctic been seen a happier assemblage than at our prettily decorated table full of the most delicious eatables and all kinds of wine. Several essays by different members on different subjects relating to arctic research amongst Mr. Tafel and Mr. Porter attracted much amusement and interest. Poems and songs were delivered by Mr. Shorkley and Rilliet and some verses composed and sung by John caused much laugh. Toasts for Mr. Ziegler, Champ, Mr. Fiala, the Geographical Society etc were drank. Our commander gave a speech thanking us for the help and for the work we so far accomplished and although we lost the ship here and now had to deal with many difficulties, he still had hopes for the outcome and success of the expedition. It was 2 o'clock when we finally departed, everyone in the best of humor and I can safely say that a more successful Christmas banquet never was seen in the Arctic. The temperature was -20.

The dinner came at a time of uncertainty for the ill-fated expedition. Their ship, the America, had broken up in a storm the previous month and taken with it their coal and many of their provisions. A successful push to the pole was unlikely, though several attempts were made. To keep busy while they awaited rescue, they conducted extensive survey work. It was not until June of 1905 that the Terra Nova arrived to bring them out of the Arctic.

To learn more about the expedition ask for Anton Vedoe's papers, Stef MS 233.

Team Spirit

2011-12-20T16:17:00.001-05:00

Even though the season has ended for the Dartmouth football team, it's not too late to indulge in some nostalgia over past victories. Leaf through programs from the earliest days of sport in the 19th century through the present. Not only can you catch up on your stats, but you can also watch the evolution of advertising and cover art design.

In addition to the programs, Rauner also has photographs, memorabilia, and the records of the Athletic Department. Ask for D.C. History GV 957 .D3 D37 to see the programs and DA-169 for the records of the department. There are also many football related photo files containing additional images.

1957, vs. Harvard

1911, vs. Harvard

1931, vs. Holy Cross

Come on in and show your team spirit.

The Well-Tempered Synclavier

2011-12-16T16:10:00.000-05:00

In the late 1970s, the New England Digital Corporation based in Norwich, VT, released the Synclavier. Primarily an FM synthesis based sound module, the original Synclavier did not come with a keyboard and was only programmable via a computer supplied with the system. The system evolved and in 1979 the Synclavier II (shown here with Jon Appleton) was released, complete with a keyboard and four simultaneous voices or synthesis channels. Later models introduced the first commercially available systems for sampling to disk and direct to disk recording and helped solidify the role of the now ubiquitous "tapeless" studio.

Early manual for the Synclavier.

Jon Appleton was a professor of Music at Dartmouth at the time and was influential in the development of the Synclavier, starting with the prototype called the Dartmouth Digital Synthesizer. Working together with Sydney Alonso and Cameron Jones ‘74, Appleton helped pioneer modern synthesis and electro-acoustic music. Included in his papers are business records and correspondence related to the Synclavier and N.E.D., as well as scores, recordings and information related to the Bregman Studio at Dartmouth which Appleton helped found.

To see Appleton's papers, ask for MS-727. A finding aid is available.

English 79: Writing for the Motion Pictures

2011-12-13T14:19:00.000-05:00

In 1936 prominent and successful movie producer Walter Wanger '15 suggested to Dartmouth President Ernest Hopkins that Dartmouth could become a leader in the film industry by producing a new generation of writers. Hollywood's biggest problem was a dearth of quality screenplays, and Wanger theorized that an institution like Dartmouth was poised to improve the industry by teaching screen writing skills to English majors.

The English Department was game to take on the initiative, but only if they would be able to secure a large collection of screenplays for the students to critique. Wanger used his influence in Hollywood to convince each of the major studios to deposit copies of their scripts at Dartmouth. The scripts came right out of the Producers' Association notorious "Hays Office," the official censors for the film industry.

The English Department began offering a separate screen writing class in 1938. We do not have a record of how many people who took the class went on to pursue a career in the movies, but Dartmouth has maintained a long and close connection with the entertainment industry.

You can see a handful of the scripts from the collection in our current exhibition, "Literary Gentlemen and a Girl Like I," a look at screenwriter Anita Loos's 1925 best-selling novel Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. The exhibit also features the Motion Picture Code as issued by the Hays Office. The exhibit will be up through February 2012 in the Class of 1965 Galleries here in Rauner.

A list of the plays can be obtained from the catalog by performing this curious keyword search: "branch:branchwscr".

The Southernmost Peoples

2011-12-09T16:26:00.000-05:00

Charles Wellington Furlong was the first American to explore the interior of Tierra del Fuego. In 1907-08, during his first expedition in Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, Furlong lived among the Onas and Yahgans, the southernmost peoples of the world. Though these tribes have long since disintegrated due to external stresses and their cultural identity is now almost completely vanished, the observations made by Furlong concerning their way of life makes for a unique record. Material here about the Fuegian tribes includes audio recordings of speech and song, dermatoglyphs (hand prints and foot prints), notes, published works, correspondence, and hundreds of photographs, including negatives and lantern slides, which describe in detail the natives and their societies. Shown here are Onas who accompanied and guided Furlong. The caption to the image reads: "Group of Two Ona Families and Dog, North of Eastern End of Lake Cami, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina 1908."

The description on the reverse continues:

These people were part of Furlong's expedition. Two Ona men were cousins. Man on left was Chalshoat and in the center Puppup. Two women on right, and older and younger one, are the two wives of Puppup. Those on the left are Chalshoat's wives. These two families usually traveled in company, except when guanaco were extremely scarce. The fine guanaco hound in front of Puppup was an inevitable companion. The daisy-like flowers may be noted in the grass which covers a boggy terrain.

In addition to the material related to the Fuegian peoples, the collection also contains correspondence, notes, and publications related to the controversy over whether Frederick A. Cook or Robert E. Peary reached the North Pole. As Furlong believed that Cook tried to take credit for the work done by Thomas Bridges in compiling his Yahgan-English dictionary, he was always a strong supporter of Peary's claim.

Ask for Stef Mss 197 to see the collection. A finding aid is available.

Remembering Pearl Harbor

2011-12-06T13:27:00.000-05:00

Seventy years ago, the weeks following December 7, 1941, were filled with a good deal of uncertainty and anxiety for the entire nation and the world, including members of the Dartmouth community. On campus, discussion and debate continued between the interventionists and the pacifists and all of those in between. For Takanobu "Nobu" Mitsui, a member of the class of 1943, and the elder son of a prominent Japanese industrialist and Dartmouth alumnus, life was exceedingly more disquieting. Mr. Mitsui wanted to stay and complete his education at Dartmouth, following in his father’s footsteps and to be followed by his younger brother Mori '58.

History reveals that, thanks to the sponsorship and oversight of his family, several alumni, members of the administration and classmates, he was able to remain in Hanover, all the while under the watchful eye of President Hopkins and the State Department.

The archives contain multiple sources that give us glimpses of Mr. Mitsui's experiences here in the days following Pearl Harbor, as well as the care and concern shown by some members of the Dartmouth community. However, despite the safe harbor provided to him, Dartmouth was not immune to negative outside influences. Racist anti-Japanese sentiments filtered into Hanover and the campus, via the news media, propaganda and blackballing in fraternities.

To read Mr. Mitsui's memoir, ask for Alumni M697a; to read the translations of Mr. Mitsui's memoir completed by Edward Rasmussen '42, ask for MS-1069; to see Rauner's collection of World War II ephemera, ask for MS-1198. Mr. Mitsui's alumni file is also available.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness...

2011-12-02T14:01:00.000-05:00

While processing the poet Richard Eberhart's papers we came across this mimeo of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl." It turns out to be the true first printing of "Howl" preceding Lawrence Ferlinghetti's City Lights edition and produced in a run of only 25. It was typed by poet Robert Creeley and run off by Kenneth Rexroth's wife (and Creeley's lover), Marthe.

This particular copy is, arguably, the most important printed copy of "Howl" ever produced. Why? It was sent to Eberhart on May 18, 1956, while Eberhart was teaching at Princeton and preparing an article for the New York Times to be called "West Coast Rhythms." The article was on the emerging poetry scene of the west coast and San Francisco in particular. Eberhart had recently visited San Francisco to complete research for his article. While there, he heard Ginsberg read "Howl" and discussed his impressions of it with the poet himself. He told Ginsberg he thought it was an angry poem – destructive and not offering any solutions.

A few weeks later, knowing Eberhart was preparing his New York Times article, Ginsberg sent him a 34-page handwritten letter explaining "Howl" which filled a notebook (sadly, Dartmouth holds the envelope in which the letter and mimeo were sent as well as supporting letters by Ginsberg, but the 34-page notebook itself is held by another institution. See Rauner Presses P364to for the published letter). In the letter, Ginsberg laid out his case for "Howl" and countered Eberhart's impression of the poem.

Accompanying the letter and buttressing Ginsberg's arguments was this mimeographed copy of "Howl" containing several small corrections in Ginsberg's hand. The copy provided Eberhart with the ability to read "Howl" while he was preparing his seminal article. The mimeo itself had been run off for students in a class he was guest teaching at San Francisco State. He also sent several copies to influential gatekeepers in the poetry establishment, as well as friends and fellow poets.

Ginsberg was successful in his lobbying efforts and on September 2, 1956, Eberhart wrote a favorable article on the San Francisco scene highlighting Ginsberg and "Howl" in the article.

In a December 20, 1956 follow-up letter sent to Eberhart, Ginsberg credits this article with "breaking the ice" in regard to getting what would become known as the "Beats" published. Eberhart's article, along with a federal censorship charge and trial against the City Lights edition of "Howl," would catapult Ginsberg and his fellow poets into the public consciousness. Riding this wave of publicity Viking Press, who had been dragging its feet with publishing Kerouac's On the Road, moved ahead with publication. The rest, as they say, is history.

Rauner also holds a remarkable first printing (with a run of 1000) of the City Light's edition of Howl in which Ginsberg heavily and creatively inscribes the title page to Eberhart. Ginsberg also fills in the expurgated words that were left out of the first edition to placate potential censors.

To see the mimeographed version of "Howl" or to see other items from the Papers of Richard Eberhart ask for MS-1082. To see the first City Lights edition of Howl ask for Eberhart PS3513.I74 H6.

Aires of History

2011-11-29T17:04:00.001-05:00

The Dartmouth Aires were
originally an octet
formed as an offshoot
of the Glee Club.

Last night the Dartmouth Aires made it to the finale of "The Sing-Off" on NBC, finishing in second place. As great as it was to see them on national television over these past weeks, we've equally enjoyed seeing them perform on campus and even right here in Rauner (they loved Webster Hall's acoustics!). We're proud of the Aires and are pleased to hold their records -- in both senses of the word.

You can listen to their recordings and view their organizational records, which include musical scores, photos, correspondence, posters, songbooks, recordings of performances, and other miscellanea (ask for DO-75). We also have a vertical file and photo files, which give a sense of the evolution of the group. Initially an octet formed from the Dartmouth Glee Club in the 1940s, the Aires went on to perform around the world, record numerous albums, and delight fans everywhere. Congratulations, Aires -- our pride in you is, well, undying.

"In the May Flower"

2011-11-22T16:24:00.001-05:00

Pictured here is a Geneva Bible once owned by one of the founders of Plymouth Colony. It resides in a custom box that proudly proclaims the bible was "brought to New England in the May Flower by John Alden 1620." While it is probably true that it belonged to Alden (the family's genealogy is inserted in the bible), the book in question never could have made the trip on the Mayflower with him.

The Geneva Bible was the most important Protestant English translation of its era and was used by the early settlers of Plymouth. The popularity of the translation led to many reprints in protestant countries. This copy claims on the title page of the New Testament, that it was published in London in 1599. But the colophon at the end clearly indicates that the bible was printed in Amsterdam in 1633, 13 years after the Mayflower sailed.

You can see it by asking for Rare BS170 1633.

Pictures of Hell

2011-11-18T16:19:00.000-05:00

Very few people today would read Dante's Divine Comedy as literal truth, but Renaissance commentaries, especially those that emerged from Florence and Venice, often treated the poem as a divinely inspired work. A close reading of Dante could reveal the structure of the heavens and hell. The following images come from Alessandro Vellvtello's "Descriptione de lo Inferno" in Dante con l'espositioni di Christoforo Landino, et d'Alessandro Vellvtello (Venice: Appresso Giouamnattista, Marchio Sessa, et fratelli, 1578).

You can see the book by asking for Rare PQ4302.B78.

Romaunt of the Rose

2011-11-15T17:14:00.000-05:00

This Thursday, November 17th, Stephen Nichols of the Johns Hopkins University will give a lecture, "Dartmouth's Rose Undying," on our 14th-century manuscript of the Roman de la Rose. We are pretty infatuated with this manuscript, and have blogged about it in the past. The lecture is free and open to the public and a reception will follow where you can see the manuscript in the flesh.

In addition to our manuscript copy, we have many editions of Chaucer's translation, The Romaunt of the Rose. We have several 16th-century editions, and this one from 1687 with an interesting commentary:

In this Book the Authour hath many glaunces at the Hypocrisie of the Clergy; whereby he got himself such hatred amongst them that Gerson, Chancellour of Paris, writeth thus of him: saith he, There was one called Johannes Meldinensis, who wrote a Book called, The Romaunt of the Rose; which Book if I only had, and that there were no more in the World, if I might have five hundred pound for the same, I would rather burn it than take the Money. He sayeth more, That if he thought the Authour thereof did not repent him for that Book before he dyed, he would vouchsafe to pray for him no more than he would for Judas that betrayed Christ.

To take a look, ask for Val 823 C39 I16. The Manuscript is Codex MS 003206

For Gallant and Meritorious Service

2011-11-11T09:39:00.000-05:00

On September 29, 1864, Samuel Augustus Duncan, Dartmouth '58, then a Lieutenant Colonel in command of the Color Troops of the 4th Brigade of the 3rd Division of the XVIII Corps, led his men on a heroic and tragic charge up New Market Heights.

New Market Heights is a hill about 8 miles south east of Richmond, Virginia. On that morning in 1864 the top of the hill was fortified and held by General John Gregg of the Confederate Army. Gregg’s 2,000 men were part of a set of strategic fortifications put in place by General Robert E. Lee to keep the Union Army from reaching Richmond. These fortifications had been frustrating attempts by General Ulysses S. Grant's Army of the Potomac to push the confederates southward.

Colonel Duncan’s brigade in conjunction with the 6th Brigade, both under the command of General Paine, was to spearhead the attack. The African American soldiers were chosen for this task because General Butler, an advocate for the use of Colored Troops, wanted to prove to the world that they would and could fight.

The confederate forces were well aware of the, supposed, surprise attack on their stronghold. They waited until Duncan and his men, who had made their way to the hill over swampy ground in the dark, were well entangled in the abates (sharpened sticks driven into the ground as a defense) before opening fire. The officers and color bearers were quickly eliminated as they made easy targets. Duncan himself was wounded four times. His men suffered 452 casualties including 63 killed. After two days of fighting the Union troops finally drove the Confederate forces from the hill.

In a letter home to his mother from the hospital on October 6, 1864, Duncan describes his wounds and recovery. But he also speaks proudly of his men, "You will see that they all [the New York papers]—the Herald even—praise the Colored Troops of Genl. Paine’s command for what they did on the 29th."

Duncan was honored for "gallant and meritorious service." He went on to become a patent lawyer after the war. Samuel A. Duncan died in 1895 at the age of 69.

Ask for the Samuel Duncan papers, MS-541.

W. W. Dewey and the "Old Dartmouth Cemetery"

2011-11-08T12:40:00.000-05:00

In 1797, William Worthington Dewey, a local farmer, decided to begin an "accurate record" of all the "Deaths in the Vicinity of Dartmouth College." At the time the only records available were those kept by the churches, which seldom indicated the causes of death. Dewey was determined to change that. His record would not only reflect that information but would also benefit from his own observations and knowledge about the deceased.

His comments ran the gamut from the mundane to the unintentionally humorous. While there are descriptions pertaining to the status of the deceased, such as "consort of" or "a transient person," more often they are lengthy descriptions of the circumstances of the person's death. John Russell, for example, who died in 1795, was "gorged to death by an enraged bullock with which he was contending," while Frederick Weizer, a "native of Germany," was "one day dining very heartily [when] he swallowed a very large piece of meat which caught in his throat and caused almost instant death." Mr. Samuel Bingham, who died in 1804"

had been indisposed for three years and all the while was rather an enormous eater… He likewise grew very corpulent and unwieldy… He finally died suddenly… He then weighed over 300 pounds. To examine him internally after death it was necessary to cut over four inches through a clear fat substance. It took 6 men at each relief to support the bier while conveying him to the grave.

In the summer of 1807, Dewey's record was "purloined" and he abandoned the project for the next few years. "On the solicitation of some friends" he began again in 1810, using his own "recollection" and some "extraneous assistance" to reconstruct the register up to that date. He continued the record until 1859, two years before his death at the age of 84.

Since then Dewey's record has been used by many researchers including Professor Arthur H. Chivers who, in the 1950s, mapped and recorded in six volumes all of the grave marker descriptions in the Old Dartmouth Cemetery, verifying their authenticity through correspondence with the surviving families of the deceased.

List of Deaths in the Vicinity of Dartmouth College, including likewise the hamlet usually called Greensborough from AD 1769 to 1859 will be on display in the Rauner Reading Room through the month of November.

Professor Chivers records The Dartmouth Cemetery can be found in The Collection of New Hampshire and Vermont Cemeteries, DH-38, Box 2.

GOTO LINE 1

2011-11-04T16:40:00.000-04:00

In 1964, John Kemeny and Thomas Kurtz produced the first version of the programming language Dartmouth BASIC. As part of the Dartmouth Time-Sharing System, one of the goals of the project was to provide less-technically inclined users with a way to use a computer without having to learn as many of the specialized mathematical skills that had been necessary up until that time.

Based on earlier languages, especially FORTRAN II and ALGOL 60, Dartmouth BASIC was a more user-friendly language and made heavy use of English words for statements. In his oral history interview from 2002, Kurtz relates that "Kemeny had the idea that all statements in BASIC, not just most, but all of them should start with an English word" as this would be more intuitive and easily remembered by users. Kurtz goes on to say that "bringing computing to the people, having a simplified user interface that really was simple to use, using English words that were easy to remember" were all part of what made Dartmouth BASIC so useful and widespread. Shown here are Kurtz and Kemeny with True BASIC, one of the successors to Dartmouth BASIC.

Rauner Library holds the papers of John Kemeny (MS-988) and Thomas Kurtz (MS-1144), as well as numerous other resources related to the development of BASIC.

A Triple-Headed Monster

2011-11-01T16:09:00.001-04:00

One of the more depressing Victorian novels you can read is George Gissing's New Grub Street. Set in London, it chronicles Victorian literary men and women struggling to make a living from their pens. New Grub Street came out in 1891 in the typical format of the day: a novel in three volumes. The "triple-decker" was designed to maximize profits for publishers and lending libraries. It allowed libraries to charge a greater fee to subscribers. Think of Netflix, you can pay one fee for a single DVD or a higher fee for three simultaneous DVDs. A library subscriber would need to shell out more for three volumes than one.

Gissing's anti-hero, the popular Jasper Milvain, discusses the tyranny of the format with Edwin Reardon, the novel's most tragic figure:

Milvain began to expatiate on that well-worn topic, the evils of the three-volume system.

"A triple-headed monster, sucking the blood of English novelists. One might design an allegorical cartoon for a comic literary paper...."

"For anyone in my position," said Reardon, "how is it possible to abandon the three volumes? It is a question of payment. An author of moderate repute may live on a yearly three-volume novel--I mean the man who is obliged to sell his book out and out, and who gets from one to two hundred pounds for it. But he would have to produce four one-volume novels to obtain the same income; and I doubt whether he could get so many published within twelve months. And here comes in the benefit of the libraries; from the commercial point of view the libraries are indispensable. Do you suppose the public would support the present number of novelists if each book had to be purchased? A sudden change to that system would throw three-fourths of the novelists out of work."

"But there is no reason why the libraries shouldn't circulate novels in one volume."

"Profits would be less, I suppose. People would take the minimum subscription."

In the first volume of New Grub Street, Reardon finds himself destroying his health and his family trying to stretch a thin story over three-volumes: "Reardon's story was in itself weak, and this second volume had to consist almost entirely of padding." The Victorian reader, first encountering the book in its triple-decker format, must have dreaded picking up the second volume of New Grub Street after that warning.

Come see the book in all three volumes by asking for Val 826 G44 T641.

A Dissertation Concerning Vampires

2011-10-28T12:46:00.000-04:00

One of the earliest works on vampires and how to deal with them is Dom Augustin Calmet's Dissertations Upon the Apparitions of Angels, Daemons, and Ghosts, and Concerning the Vampires of Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia (London, M. Cooper, 1759). In his lengthy treatise, first published in France in 1746, Calmet examines many different occurrences and types of vampirism, which he claims is a new phenomenon not known in ancient times. Calmet writes that "It is common... to see men, who have been dead several years... come again, walk about, infest villages, torment men and cattle, suck the blood of their relations... and, at last, occasion their death."

Fortunately, Calmet also presents the only sure method of defeating such a creature. According to Calmet, "digging them out of their graves, impaling them, cutting of their heads, taking out their hearts, and burning their bodies" is necessary to prevent further calamity.

Oddly enough, Calmet himself seems to be of two minds about the whole subject. In his preface, he writes that those who believe in vampires will "accuse me of rashness and presumption... for denying their [vampires] existence" while others will "blame me for throwing away my time in writing upon this subject, which is... frivolous and trifling." Calmet ultimately sidesteps the whole issue by concluding that whether or not vampires are real, he has done humanity a service by either debunking the myth or presenting people with a means to deal with such creatures.

Ask for Oliver 6 to read the whole treatise.

Two Poets

2011-10-25T11:40:00.001-04:00

One of the many delights of working with Special Collections is finding the occasional – and quite unexpected – connection between two figures whose works are represented in Rauner. Vita Sackville-West and Robert Frost are both poets, and their dates are very close (1892 – 1962 for Sackville-West and 1874 – 1963 for Frost). But beyond that . . . two very different characters indeed. So imagine our surprise when a short handwritten letter from Sackville-West to Frost turned up recently in Frost's voluminous correspondence. She wrote to him on January 22, 1933, during a lecture tour in America, promising to send him a copy of her poem, The Land, and expressing great admiration for his work. Further investigation reveals that she met him and dined with him in Northampton, Massachusetts, on March 17, 1933, and described him as "a handsome man who goes in for good conversation."

Sackville-West's grandson, English writer Adam Nicolson, continues his family's tradition of lecturing to American audiences, and spoke here at Dartmouth this month on the King James Version of the Bible in this, the 400th anniversary year of that translation. He published a study of that enterprise in 2003, entitled God’s Secretaries: the Making of the King James Bible.

To mark his visit to Dartmouth, two special exhibits have been mounted in Rauner Special Collections Library. See last week's blog entry for a description of the historic Bibles (including one leaf from the 1611 KJV) drawn from Special Collections' holdings and now exhibited in the Class of 1965 Galleries. Additionally, a small, single-case exhibit is now on display in the Special Collections Reading Room. Included are works by (and one about) his grandmother, Vita Sackville-West, and father, Nigel Nicolson. The dedications of many of these works are of special interest, and many are signed.

Both exhibits remain on view through the first week of November. To see the Sackville-West letter, ask for Frost manuscript 906129.

115 Laps

2011-10-21T08:42:00.000-04:00

This Fall, the freshman class will run 115 laps around Dartmouth’s 116th Homecoming bonfire (however it is also acceptable just to run 15 laps, although upperclassmen refrain from telling freshmen this fact).

Before the bonfire became an annual event, Dartmouth students were fond of celebrating great victories with large fires on the Green. In 1888, after defeating Manchester at a contended baseball game, the bonfire "disturbed the slumbers of a peaceful town, destroyed some property, made the boys feel that they were men, and, in fact, did no one any good", according to The Dartmouth.

However the bonfire did not become an official event until 1895, when President Tucker instituted "Dartmouth Night" - a celebration to promote a sense of community at Dartmouth and welcome the new freshman class.

The visit of the Sixth Earl of Dartmouth in 1904 marked the beginning of the tradition of running around the fire. Not content with only a bonfire, students wanted to impress the Earl by parading around the fire in their pajamas. The Earl soon joined the parade of men in night-clothes and proudly led them around the flames. Today, students traditionally wear green Dartmouth shirts with their class year.

Part of the rite of passage that occurs every Homecoming is the yelling of two phrases: "Worst class ever!" and "Touch the fire!". Although upperclassmen will generally refer to the freshman class as the “best class ever” throughout the year, the night of the bonfire is the one night when the upperclassmen are not as cordial. The tradition of touching the fire is for only the boldest of freshmen, as law enforcement officers from Hanover surround the fire in order to prevent any one from getting too close. For Dartmouth students, that is a challenge that is too good to pass up. Every year, save the class of 2013 (worst class ever), after the fire burns down a couple brave souls will run past the police to touch the dying coals (In 2008, this practice resulted in two students being severely burned).

Recent bonfires have used 6x6 timbers and other sheets of wood, but it was not always so. Railroad ties were often used and in 1918 The Dartmouth reported that "those too zealous in their efforts laid violent hands upon sundry front door steps and backdoor steps, and likewise fences, not to mention numerous hen houses carried en masse to the scene of the celebration." Although today the Thayer School of Engineering designs the bonfire so that it can only collapse inwards, the bonfire has been built by the freshman class since 1907.

Posted for Thea Stutsman, '13

The King's English

2011-10-18T15:30:00.000-04:00

Four hundred years ago, King James I of England commissioned a new translation of the Bible, hoping to create a single, authoritative text that would mediate between the divergent religious views of Puritans and Anglicans.

Each edition of the King James Bible published since its first printing in 1611 reflects something about the lives of the individuals who produced and used it. For example, a pocket-sized copy printed in the mid-17th century was clearly treasured by its owner, who delicately embroidered the binding with portraits, probably of herself and her husband, on the front and back covers.

Come visit this and many other editions of the King James Bible at Rauner’s current exhibit, The King’s English, on display in the Class of 1965 Galleries through the end of October.

The exhibit is timed to coincide with a lecture by Adam Nicolson, author of God's Secretaries: The Making Of The King James Bible. Scheduled for October 19, 2011, the lecture will be followed by a reception at Rauner. For more information, see the Department of Religion's website.

Reading in Parts

2011-10-14T17:39:00.001-04:00

Imagine starting to read a novel and not finishing it for 19 months. We are not slow readers, but we have tried the enlightening exercise of reading a mid 19th-century novel in its original parts. Pictured here are the 20 issues (in 19 parts) of Charles Dickens' David Copperfield. The first issue came out in May 1849, and the parts continued to come out monthly until November 1850.

That is a very different kind of reading than we do today. Most people read David Copperfield for class--so, very quickly--devouring the novel in a week or so. Others might be more leisurely, dipping into it nightly over a month or so to savor the Victorian melodrama. Few people would dole the book out in 30-page segments over a year and a half. When read this way the book becomes a part of the yearly cycle and fodder for conversation with your friends. Like a popular television series, everyone is at the same place at the same time.

Serialization explains a lot about Victorian literature--the frequent cliff hangers, the repetition of characters' key traits, the tangential forays that fill an issue--and the advertisements within the parts reveal the intended audience. Our David Copperfield hawks mattresses, needles, children's clothing, Punch, and Locock's Female Pills.

To see the parts (all at once!) ask for Val 826D55 P51.

Picturing the Civil War

2011-10-11T11:45:00.000-04:00

Most of us have, at some point or another, encountered the stunning and terrible images of Civil War battlefields created by Mathew Brady. While visually arresting, these images are almost devoid of humans, other than the rows and piles of dead bodies. Brady made some portraits and posed groups, but no candid imagery. This is because the collodion wet plate process used by photographers at the time demanded long exposures, sometimes several minutes long, even on a bright day. Thus anyone moving about would become at best a blur and at worse invisible. Because of this we must turn to other sources for visual documentation of the last war fought on American soil.

One source of visual documentation in Rauner's collection, is the diary of Newton T. Hartshorn. Hartshorn enlisted as a private in U.S. Engineer Corps in 1861. His dairy provides a wonderful written account of his life in the services, but also includes a number of sketches depicting the daily life of a soldier. His sketches include camp life, scenic views, patriotic imagery and the advance to Bull Run.

Hartshorn was eventually promoted to Captain in the War Department Rifles where he was assigned to the White House, as part of president Lincoln's guard.

Ask for MS-19 the Hartshorn Family papers, box 1

Zodiac Man

2011-10-07T07:59:00.001-04:00

If you perceive of the body as a microcosm of all of creation, you had better pay attention to the universe when you are treating a patient. The medieval sensibility closely linked the stars and the humors of the body. This famous, hand-colored illustration of "zodiac man" comes from a 1500 printing of Joannes de Ketham's Fasciculus Medicinae. Originally printed nine years earlier, it is thought to be the first medical textbook in the era of print.

The text surrounding zodiac man gives practical, and crucial, advice to physicians about the proper timing for medical procedures. Treating maladies of the head would be very dangerous when the sun is in Aries because of the sign's anatomical association.

The concepts linking the zodiac with health persisted long after more modern medical practices came into fashion. In his 1740 Poor Richard's Alamanck, Benjamin Franklin repeats the iconic medical chart as a handy guide for medical diagnosis and treatment.

To see Ketham, ask for Incunabula 74, and for the 18th-century survival of medieval medicine, ask for Rare PS749.A2 1740. You can also see the National Library of Medicine copy of Ketham online.

Salesrooms in Every City

2011-10-04T17:30:00.000-04:00

For the World Columbian Exposition of 1893, the Singer Manufacturing Company produced a set of souvenir cards featuring photographs that were "taken on the spot in various countries and provinces and colored there to correctly represent the native costumes." The cards were billed as "national costume studies, reliable and perfect in every detail." On the reverse of each card was a snapshot description of the country (or region) sketching the geography, religion, and history of the area. The omnipresent sewing machine in each image and the phrase "Salesrooms in Every City in the World," were a not-so subtle sales pitch to prospective buyers.

The 1893 World's Fair was ostensibly held in commemoration of Columbus' arrival in the new world and Singer's cards were a clever marketing tie-in to that theme. Though European countries far outnumber their non-western counterparts (Spain is featured on no less than seven of the thirty-five cards), Singer did include cards for China, Japan, Tunis, India, Algeria, Ceylon, Burmah, Manilla and Zululand. As one would expect, these regions were closely associated with European colonial power and the descriptions of these regions emphasize the "civilizing influence" of the western world and extolls Singer's part in that endeavor. In India, Singer was already "helping the people of India toward a better civilization for nearly twenty years."

Ask for Rare Book GT 595 .C68 1892 to see all of the cards.

The Eliot Bible

2011-09-30T08:31:00.002-04:00

If someone handed you the first Bible printed in America, you might be surprised to find that it was written not in English, but in Algonquin. Published in 1663, the Eliot Bible is one of the many treasures at Rauner Library and an example of the use of written word as a means of evangelism in American history.

John Eliot, the "Indian Apostle," came to America from England in 1631 with the goal of preaching in the New World. Although he first worked with the young colonists, the idea of evangelizing the natives was never far from his mind; he wrote, "I do very much desire to translate some parts of the Scriptures into their language and print some Primer in their language where to initiate and teach them to read." Eliot's ambition, says Cotton Mather, was to fulfill the words of the Massachusetts Royal Charter "To win and incite the Natives of that Country to the knowledge and obedience of the only true God and Saviour of Mankind, and the Christian Faith."

Eliot began this mission by regularly visiting the nearby Algonquin tribe for three or four days at a time, learning their language and teaching them his. With this knowledge, Eliot began the task of translating the Bible into the native Algonquin tongue, phonetically, using the English written language – a feat that took him ten years. This was also the first time that a Native American tongue had been given an alphabet and a written language.

The translation would not have been possible without the help of John Sassamon, a member of the local tribe who could speak and write English. Sassamon was adopted by an English family after his own family succumbed to disease (most likely brought by the Europeans). Sassamon would later go on to be the first Native American to attend Harvard University.

One thousand copies of Eliot's "Indian Bible" were printed under the full title "The Holy Bible Containing the Old Testament and the New Translated into the Indian Language," by Samuel Green of Cambridge. It would take about 120 years until the first complete English edition of the Bible would be printed in America.

The main goal of the printing of the Eliot Bible was not to give Native Americans a Bible of their own, but to give English preachers a means to communicate the Word of God to the natives. The importance of the Bible today is not textual accuracy, but rather it is an emblem of early Colonial and Native American history.

Come by Rauner to see the "Eliot Bible" and hold a part of the history of America. Ask for: Rauner Rare Books BS 345 .A2 E4 1663

Posted for Thea Stutsman, '13

Animal House

2011-09-27T15:35:00.001-04:00

In 1977, Patrick Murphy was a police sergeant in the city of Cottage Grove, Oregon when he was hired to coordinate security for the production of the movie Animal House. Based in part on Dartmouth class of 1963 co-screenwriter Chris Miller's experience in the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity. The production had settled on the campus of Faber College in Oregon as a location after having been turned down by twelve colleges in six states.

According to a fan website, Sgt. Murphy was also tasked to keep John Belushi happy and out of trouble. In addition to appearing in four scenes of the movie and allowing the crew to use his personal station wagon as a dolly, Murphy received an autographed original script signed by the entire cast with a letter of thanks from director John Landis. Addressing the letter to Sgt. Murphy and "all of the other Faber Policeman," Landis quips, "When you see the finished movie and you're all movie stars just remember who made you international celebrities."

Even though critics universally panned the movie upon its release, it went on to become a commercial success, grossing more than $90 million in its first year. It also launched the movie career of John Belushi and re-introduced toga parties to college campuses

To see the script and a call sheet from the movie ask for MS-1175.

Facebook of 1915

2011-09-23T11:54:00.002-04:00

Before their arrival in Hanover to meet in person and begin their Dartmouth careers, many members of the class of 2015 undoubtedly spent the past few months getting to know each other on Facebook. A hundred years ago, another group of '15s was the first class to get acquainted with the help of the Green Book, also known as the Freshman Book. As the foreword to the 1915 Green Book states:

The continual growth of Dartmouth College has made it harder and harder each year to learn the records and abilities of the entering class. This Year Book is published with the hope that it will satisfy a want for information in much the same way as does the Yale Blue Book and the Harvard Red Book. If it succeeds in giving its readers a good knowledge of the composition of 1915, we shall feel fully repaid.

Unlike later volumes of the Green Book, the first one didn't include photos of every member of the class. Only the class officers, the 1915 football team, and Prof. Craven Laycock, Assistant Dean (and later of nose-rubbing-for-luck fame), are shown. The book provides each student's full name, nickname, fraternity, hometown, high school attended and activities in which they participated, and dorm address at Dartmouth. Particularly interesting is the section entitled "1915 Statistics," which includes data compiled from information provided by 353 members of the class. From this we learn that the class of 1915 came from 192 preparatory and high schools, of which "only 11 have a representation numbering five or more." The school that provided the most entering freshmen that year? Phillips Exeter (twelve). The book also provides information about the entering students' parents; for example, how many were college graduates (76 fathers -- of which 19 were Dartmouth men -- and 16 mothers), the schools from which they graduated, and fathers' professions. Data on the religious preference of class members is also provided. The 1915 book appears to have been published in the spring of 1912, as it also includes summaries of the class performances in track, football, basketball, and hockey.

In 2009 the College decided to stop publishing the Green Book (or 'shmenu, as it was sometimes called), so the class of 2012, who will graduate this spring, is the last class to have one.

Get to know Jimmie, Ingy, Hutch, Skinny, Edge, Jiggs, Mudge, and generations of Dartmouth students who followed them by consulting the Dartmouth Green Books in the reading room of Rauner Library.

Donella Meadows

2011-09-20T15:03:00.002-04:00

In 1968 a global think tank was founded in Rome, Italy, concerned with humanity's lack of "forward looking analysis" in regard to its effect on the ecology of the planet. One of the early contributors to the program of the "Club of Rome" was Donella H. Meadows, a young environmental activist and teacher who worked with her husband, Dennis Meadows, and others at MIT to develop and interpret a computer model to calculate human economic expansion and its relationship to the ecosystem of the earth. The result was the controversial book The Limits to Growth, co-authored by Meadows. Always outspoken in her criticism of humanity's failures to recognize the damage it was causing to the earth’s environments, Meadows was appalled at the choice Family Circle magazine made in choosing a woman with four children as its "Homemaker of the Year." In a 1970 letter addressed to the magazine she writes:

If your homemaker of the year feels any responsibility to the human society of the future, she would not have more than two children. If she loves children and wants more than two, she can fill a great social need by adopting them. If she is a real citizen of this country and this world, she will have consumption habits which are very distinct from those of most Americans and those usually pictured in your magazine.

Donella and her husband Dennis practiced what they preached, living with friends on an organic farm in rural New Hampshire, while advocating, through their writings and teaching, for a sustainable world. In 1996 Meadows founded the Sustainability Institute whose headquarters are part of the Cobb Hill Cohousing community.

If you would like to find out more about this dedicated environmentalist and author ask for MS-1152, The Papers of Donella H. Meadows.

Still Trippin'

2011-09-16T11:48:00.003-04:00

What had started with just 16 tripees and a few trip leaders had grown by 1970 to the point where nearly half of the incoming class participated in Freshman Trips. Today the program involves over 90 percent of the freshman class and more than two hundred upperclassmen student leaders.

Over the years, the Dartmouth Outing Club has devised new and creative ways for freshmen to break out of their shells during their first days with their new Dartmouth peers. The first day in Hanover usually involves a variety of semi-embarrassing activities such as dancing on the lawn in front of Robinson Hall and humorously choreographed safety talks. After that they head out on their trips, which have evolved from just hiking to include a variety of activities including, kayaking, canoeing, fly-fishing, mountain biking, horseback riding, nature photography, organic farming and even nature writing and painting for the artistically inclined.

After two nights in the outdoors, the groups reconvene at the Ravine Lodge at the base of Mt. Moosilauke and are treated to stories from administrators, faculty, or alumni about their own Dartmouth experiences.

In the morning, the freshmen enjoy a complete breakfast of green eggs and ham, inspired by Dartmouth alumnus Theodor Geisel (class of 1925), more commonly known as Dr. Seuss.

This common experience has become a vital part of acclimation to the Dartmouth community, and many first-year students make some of their best and longest-lasting friendships with their tripees. Because of this, Freshman Trips have come to symbolize the strong sense of community and camaraderie that brings former students back to Dartmouth year after year.

Freshmen Trips and the War Years

2011-09-13T14:32:00.000-04:00

1946 Freshmen Trip
crossing the dam at Moosilauke
Roger Brown leading

By 1941, the popularity of the Freshmen Trip, which had attracted a mere 16 first-year students in 1935, had grown significantly, swelling the ranks to over 100 participants. Trip leader Harry Bond’s report on the 1941 trip included his concern that numbers over 125 could not be handled well. He felt that with too big a crowd, trips would be come “more like an army moving in maneuvers than a good friendly hike.”

The military allusion was prophetic; later that year, the United States entered World War II. The resulting decrease in civilian student population and the curtailment of travel, compelled the DOC to limit the 1942 trip to the first 50 applicants. The entire trip that year was based at Moosilauke (the hike up the mountain was described as not difficult: “girls frequently make the trip up and down the Mountain in a day”). Since Dartmouth accelerated its academic calendar during the war, the 1942 Freshmen Trip took place in July over the course of a weekend, returning the Class of 1946 to campus in time to register on Monday, July 6.

Allowed to use only one truck in 1944, the DOC was forced to limit the trip even more, to 30 students. However, it did not take long after the end of the war for Freshmen Trips to experience their due success. Within a decade, the number of students participating reached 200, divided into two sections of several trips each, all fed, transported, led up and down mountains, informed and entertained with the precision Harry Bond had feared… but which has done nothing to detract from the success and enthusiasm for this happy introduction to Dartmouth for over 70 years.

The First Tripees

2011-09-09T09:41:00.000-04:00

1938 Trip

On September 10, 1935, a group of 16 freshman ventured into the wilds of northern New Hampshire on the first Freshman Trip. In the year 1934-35 the Outing Club was undergoing some internal scrutiny. There had been a “sharp decline in paid memberships” and the club was accused by some of “aloofness and unco-operativeness.” The first Freshman Trip was characterized in The Dartmouth as an “acquaintance trip” to introduce freshmen to the Outing Club and the “White Mountains and the territory.” Acquaintance trips had been tried before, but this trip was different as it was scheduled to take place before school was in session.

1939 Trip

1935 application

The application for the 1935 trip notes that, “The trip will break into shape with as much care as possible. However, the latter part of the program will involve some strenuous climbs, and the trip up Moosilauke on the first day is a tough one.” The students arrived back to Hanover “sun and wind burned.” No mention is made of the success of the trip, but since the trips have now been going on for 76 years, we can assume it was a hit. Notably, one of the students on the trip was named Daniel Webster. This Dan went on to become a physician, not a statesman like his namesake, but it seems appropriate that the name Webster should be associated with the first Freshman Trip.

The records of the Outing Club are held in Rauner and a finding aid is available.

Churchill vs. Churchill

2011-09-06T16:03:00.000-04:00

When you hear the name Winston Churchill, you probably start thinking about cigars, England, World War II, and other details associated with the former Prime Minister. But what about the American author of the same name?

The American Winston Churchill (1871-1947) was the author of several national best-sellers, most of which are now unknown despite their incredible popularity at the time. At the turn of the 20th century, the other Winston Churchill was just starting out in his career as a writer and publishers sometimes confused the two authors as both published under the name "Winston Churchill." To remedy this situation, the two Churchills agreed that the British Churchill would add an initial - "S" for Spencer - to distinguish himself from the American, who had no middle name.

Winston S. Churchill

The two also corresponded about more personal items. In this December, 1900 letter from Winston S. Churchill accepting a dinner invitation from Winston Churchill, Churchill writes "I look forward to making your acquaintance with particular interest, for hitherto we have known each other only by name and repute."

Letter, December 1900

Winston Churchill later used the proceeds from his novels to build himself a mansion, Harlakenden House, in Cornish, New Hampshire. He became an active member of the Cornish Art Colony, whose members included Augustus Saint Gaudens and Maxfield Parrish and also successfully ran for state office several times.

Dartmouth holds Winston Churchill's papers and a guide to the collection is available.

Fun Origami

2011-09-02T15:43:00.000-04:00

This one counts as one of the oddest books we have ever acquired. It is almost difficult to call it a book any longer. Technically, Fun Origami (New York: Sally Agee, 1988) is an "altered book." The artist folded, cut and painted each page of a book she found then laid in bits of cut fabric, interesting papers and even a few snippets of instructions to guide the reader. The final book no longer really functions as a codex. It is very difficult to turn the pages, and it won't close. It has turned into an explosive collage of New York faces, conversations, and political and social statements of the late 1980s: "Nelson Mandela"; "Music on Voyager from the sun blew a bubble between the stars"; "Oh my, so cool, oh my."

Sally Agee earned a BFA from Syracuse University, then became a teacher. After extensive travel, and spending 15 years raising her family, she revived her art career by taking art classes. She says of her own work:

If I must describe it, I think I would say it was divided into textile design, book art, fabric art, and collage. But there is a lot of over lap and mixing, and that is the way I like it. I could never narrow down my interests.

We are still trying to nail down a description of Fun Origami to make it fit into our library catalog, but you can come in and ask to see it any time

Freak Winds

2011-08-30T14:09:00.000-04:00

Souvenir booklet, 1938

Dartmouth dodged the bullet of Irene. For the most part the campus was spared any major damage, though the Dartmouth community is suffering. Neighboring communities were hit hard by the storm, and many staff and faculty are dealing with damaged homes, roads, and bridges. Even more are without power. For many, it was a pleasant surprise to arrive on campus yesterday after navigating through scenes of destruction to find the Green unscathed and awash with sunshine.

From Freak Winds

The campus did not get off so easily in 1938. "The Long Island Express" ripped through and tore out trees, damaged buildings and crippled campus just as the Fall term was about to begin:

Set in the midst of a shattered and desolate countryside, Dartmouth awoke this morning under serene skies to look on a pitiful spectacle of wreckage on its campus which nevertheless gave no index of the wide confusion and destruction surrounding Hanover and extending over the whole northeastern tip of the United States.

To learn more about the '38 Hurricane's impact on campus, ask for the Vertical File "Hurricane, 1938."

Pieces of Wood

2011-08-26T15:30:00.001-04:00

We have a lot of pieces of wood in our collections. We never seek them out, they find us. That's because Dartmouth loves its trees, and when a particularly memorable tree goes down, students carry away bits as mementos. The scraps of wood represent much more than the tree, they evokes the students' Dartmouth experience.

No tree is more represented in our collection than the Old Pine. Struck by lightning on July 29, 1887, the Old Pine was severely damaged, then a wind storm in 1892 weakened it further. On June 23, 1895, the tree was cut down (the stump was treated, and still serves a ceremonial role in campus life) and students gathered bits of it as keepsakes. One piece was carved into a letter opener by a member of the class of '94. He later donated it to the College, and it now resides here in Rauner.

Last week we all watched the "Parkhurst Elm" fall victim to Dutch Elm disease. We noticed a few students walking away from the site with small pieces of wood. A ceremonial bonfire? Probably not, more likely we will see one of those bits of the Parkhurst Elm again in 40 or 50 years in another form. And it will be too cool to throw away...

To see the letter opener, ask for Realia 117.

What's with the arrow in his head?

2011-08-23T15:23:00.001-04:00

In 1662, Joan Blaeu published his 11-volume Grand Atlas, Geographia. The frontispiece to the final volume depicted the New World in allegorical terms. America stands amid a scene of wealth and violence, her foot placed on the severed head of a European, an arrow shot clean through his skull.

What is that all about? We have used it for years in classes where we discuss the various components of the image--the Conquistador ushering in Christianity, the bars of silver, the exotic caiman-like lizard--but it was not until this spring that we acquired the key, the 1618 edition of Cesare Ripa's Nova Iconologia (Padua: Pietro Paolo Tozzi, 1618).

The Nova Iconologia was first published without illustrations in 1593, then with 151 images in 1603. This 1618 edition contains over 300 woodcuts with descriptions that were used by artists and poets to make abstract concepts like the passions, virtues and vices, and even places, concrete in form. The book influenced late-Renaissance artists and is an essential guide to the imagery of the time. America appears on page 353, looking very much like Blaeu's later frontispiece. The detailed explanation of the iconography reveals that the severed head is all that remains of a victim of the barbaric cannibals.

To see the Blaeu atlas, ask for Rare Book G1015.B48 1662. For the Ripa, request Rare N774.R52 1618.

The Pressure of Light

2011-08-19T13:09:00.000-04:00

Ever think that you can feel the sun's rays beating down? While that impression may be illusory, visible light and all forms of electromagnetic radiation actually do exert pressure on a surface.

First predicted by James Maxwell in 1871, experimental evidence for the phenomenon wasn't produced until the turn of the century. The Russian physicist Peter Lebedev was the first to measure this radiation pressure and announced his findings in 1900 at a conference in Paris. The measurement was independently confirmed by two Dartmouth researchers in 1901 - Gordon Ferrie Hull and Ernest Fox Nichols (later President of the College, 1909-1916). Pictured here is the apparatus used by Hull and Nichols in their experiment, including the Nichols radiometer, which is now in the Smithsonian.

Hull and Nichols were apparently unaware of Lebedev's findings until after their discovery which they first published in an article titled "A Preliminary Communication on the Pressure of Heat and Light Radiation" in the November 1901 issue of The Physical Review (conclusive evidence was published in The Physical Review in July of 1903). In a later article in The Astrophysical Journal, they wrote that "Unfortunately the proceedings of the Paris Congress did not reach the writers, nor any intimation of the methods or results of Professor Lebedew's work, until after the publication of their own preliminary experiments."

Left to Right: E.F. Nichols, J.A. Brown, G.F. Hull, 1903

Rauner holds Gordon Ferrie Hull's papers which include correspondence, photographs and other material about his work with Nichols on radiation pressure, as well as Hull's later work in ballistics during World War I. In addition there is correspondence between Hull and various scientific notables, including Ernest Rutherford, George Hale, and Robert Milliken.

To read more about radiation pressure, ask for the Hull Papers (ML-47). A guide to the collection is available.

Stefansson's Son

2011-08-16T11:52:00.000-04:00

Alex Stefansson

In 1908, arctic explorer Vilhjalmur Stefansson set out on his second expedition. He hired an Inuit woman named Fanny Pannigabluk to travel with him. On March 10, 1910, Pannigabluk gave birth to a boy. Alex Stefansson was never acknowledged by Stefansson as his son, however, people of the arctic community who knew about the relationship between Stefansson and Pannigabluk, never doubted Alex's paternity.

Stefansson remained in the arctic until 1912 living with his Inuit family. He returned to them once more during his 1913-1918 expedition. During Stefansson's lifetime the paternity question remained a rumor. However, after his death in 1962, it garnered attention once again. Stefansson's wife Evelyn, a notable author of arctic books in her own right, who had married Stefansson in 1940s, felt it was "regrettable that only a few months after Stef's death a matter based on hearsay rather than evidence should be brought up for the first time." According to her "Stef did not believe that Alex Stefansson was his son."

Vilhjalmur Stefansson

Frank Stefansson

Based on photographic evidence and intensive research gathered since his death, Alex Stefansson's paternity is no longer questioned by Stefansson scholars. For Evelyn the revelation came in 1976, when in response to a picture of Alex Stefansson's son Frank she wrote: "The picture of Frank Stefansson is stunning evidence to me that Alex was Stef's son. For the first time a feeling of conviction arrived. It is the set of the mouth and the tip of the nose, the dimpled chin, and the shape of the head,--the family resemblance is inescapable and is so much stronger in the grandson than the son, strangely enough."

To read the correspondence or learn more about Evelyn Stefansson Nef's life and work as an author and philanthropist ask for Stef MSS-99.

Exquisite Corpuscle

2011-08-12T15:42:00.000-04:00

What started as a Surrealist parlor game, the exquisite corpse has become a favored medium for book artists. Originally the concept was a word game: lists of words sorted into their parts of speech could be assembled and reassembled to create surprising new meanings, confusion, and profundity. With the Surrealists, the idea became visual and the codex was the ideal format to build bodies and shapes.

U.B.3 (Ultra Bio 3) is an exquisite corpse that features eight interchangeable lithographic images by David Lantow. While the corpse has a head, body and feet, it looks a little like a germ, a fungus, or even an alien. But in the wake of Deepwater Horizon, it evokes memories of tar balls washing ashore in the Gulf of Mexico and crude oil clinging to dying wildlife. The text morphs from "This Quiet Fellow" to finally rest at "Our Global Addiction." Along the way there are an additional 510 possible combinations, some serene like "Sweet Velvet Situation," some more sinister like "Tricky Plastic Monster." Of course, if you want, you can have a "Sweet Plastic Addiction" or a "Tricky Velvet Fellow."

Come enjoy the game by asking for David Lantrow's U.B.3.

Budd Schulberg, Class of 1936

2011-08-09T07:47:00.000-04:00

"I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am…" proclaims Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy, the protagonist of Budd Schulberg's Academy Award winning screenplay On the Waterfront. However, director Elia Kazan originally was "not insane about Brando." In a letter to Schulberg he states that, "in my opinion he is quite wrong." A sentiment he repeated to Brando in an undated letter.

Schulberg, a boxing aficionado, was born into a famous Hollywood family in 1914. "I am known, alternately as the son of B. P. Schulberg, the producer, the brother of Sonya Schulberg, the young novelist and the son of Mrs. Ad Schulberg, the European agent," he once said early on in his career. However, by the time he died in 2009 at the age of 95, he had left his own mark on the literary and show business world.

Budd Schulberg published his first novel in 1941, What Makes Sammy Run?, against the advice of his father. B. P. Schulberg worried that his son’s scathing fictionalized account of a ruthless social climber in Hollywood hit too close to home. The book was a success, but after its publication Schulberg was promptly fired by Sam Goldwyn.

During WWII Schulberg served with the Office of Strategic Services and was attached to John Ford’s film unit. The unit was in charge of collecting and recording film for a documentary about Nazi atrocities for the Nuremberg trials. Needing to identify prominent Nazis in the films, Schulberg was assigned to pick up Hitler's documentary filmmaker Leni Reifenstahl.

Schulberg at the Watts Writer's Workshop

After the war Schulberg returned to Hollywood where he continued to be a diverse author of short stories, articles, fiction and nonfiction books, as well as a writer of teleplays and screenplays. In 1965 he co-founded the Watts Writer's Workshop, in response to the devastation he had seen left behind after the infamous riots in Los Angeles. With branches from Long Beach to San Francisco, the workshops provided a springboard for the Frederick Douglas Creative Arts Center in New York City, which is still active today.

To learn more about Budd Schulberg's life, career and his writing process ask for MS-978. A finding aid for the collection is available.

Dartmouth Hall

2011-08-05T11:36:00.000-04:00

Dartmouth Hall was built between 1784 and 1792 to replace College Hall, which had fallen into disrepair. The process took so long because of problems with funding. The final building was somewhat smaller than that envisioned by Eleazar Wheelock, though it was still a massive building for its day. The final structure stood 175 feet long by 52 feet deep. As Scott Meacham notes in his book Dartmouth College: An Architectural Tour, Dartmouth Hall was the College. It served as dormitory, classroom, library and museum. Later, in 1829, a chapel was also added. In addition, it also served as a place to hide the townspeople’s cows, a form of protest devised by the students who did not like having them pastured on the Green. In 1895 the architects Lamb & Rich added electric lights and steam heat, though this proved to be the building's undoing.

In February 1904, Dartmouth Hall burned to the ground in a matter of minutes. The cause of the fire was found to be faulty wiring. The building was rebuilt with gifts from alumni. The final cost of the reconstruction was about $100,000. One request for donations distributed by Dartmouth Trustee Melvin O. Adams '71 states, "This is not an invitation, it is a summons." Adams' letter gives a sense of the importance the alumni attached to Dartmouth Hall. By October of the same year, the cornerstone for the new building was laid. William Legge, the sixth Earl of Dartmouth, a descendant of the British nobleman for whom the College is named, came to the campus for Dartmouth Night to participate in the ceremony. The new Dartmouth Hall was built as a replica of the original building, though it differs in some significant ways. The exterior is brick instead of clapboard, the building was enlarged slightly and some architectural details were changed. The rebuilding of Dartmouth Hall took two years and it was not until 1906 that it was open and ready for use.

In 1935, the upper floors of Dartmouth Hall caught fire again. Since the insurance company paid $79,000 for the cost of the damage, the Board of Trustees decided to gut the entire building and make it 100% fireproof, a process that required the application of steel and concrete to reinforce the interior of the building. In the end the fireproofing cost the college another $200,000. The funds not covered by the insurance came from alumni donations.

Today, Dartmouth Hall serves as an academic building as well as an icon of the College's early years.

Ask for the following Vertical Files to learn more: Dartmouth Hall Fires and Rebuilding; Dartmouth Hall (Old); Dartmouth Hall Bells; and Dartmouth Hall Clock.

And these Photo Files for images: Dartmouth Hall 1, 2, 3 and 4; Dartmouth Hall Fire (1904) and Reconstruction 1 and 2; Dartmouth Hall Fire (1935) and Reconstruction; Dartmouth Hall Interior; Dartmouth Hall Laying Of Cornerstone; Dartmouth Hall (Old) 1, 2, 3 and 4; Dartmouth Hall Opening (February 17, 1908).

The Story of a Puppet

2011-08-02T10:58:00.000-04:00

The story of Pinocchio is one that is familiar to many people, in part, thanks to the 1940 Disney film. But even before Disney, The Story of a Puppet, or the Adventures of Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi was an international success.

First published in serial form by Collodi (whose real name was Carlo Lorenzini) in Italian from July 1881 to January 1883, the book was not originally intended for children. In its first form, Pinocchio died by hanging at the end of 15 chapters. Collodi’s editor urged the author to change the ending, resulting in chapters 16-36 in which the Fairy with the Turquoise Hair rescues Pinocchio, resulting in an ending more suitable for children.

The story first appeared in book form in 1883 and quickly became a best seller. Unfortunately, Collodi died in 1890 and did not get to see his story become an international success. Here is a recently acquired first English edition of the book. As with many children’s books, first editions, particularly first printings as this is (indicated by the title and illustrated half title printed in black and red), tend not to survive their early owners, making them particularly rare.

This edition of Pinocchio will be joining several other copies already in our collection and will provide an interesting contrast to later interpretations. Pinocchio tells the story of a marionette who wishes to be a real boy. Populated with fairies, talking crickets and other fantastical creatures, this book is another of the many “secret gardens” created by early children’s authors.

The book is on display in the Rauner Reading room right now, but you can always see it by asking for Rare PQ4712.L4 A713 1892.

Cultivating Secret Gardens

2011-07-29T12:56:00.000-04:00

Which did you like better, the book or the movie? Whatever your preference, you probably assume that film adaptations of books have some authorized relationship to the original version of the story. But this wasn’t always the case.

Nowadays it is astonishing to think that writers would not have the rights to control how their creative work is adapted. Many bestselling authors routinely negotiate the film rights to their novels before they are published. Copyright law is firmly in favor of authors retaining the rights to their creations, and Congress has repeatedly extended copyright protection (in the United States, it is currently the life of the author plus seventy years for most works) every time it has come up for renewal in recent decades.

The contemporary protection of international copyright in this sense is only about a century old. Frances Hodgson Burnett, author of The Secret Garden (1911), was instrumental in advocating for authors’ rights to retain control of how their novels and characters are adapted. Her bestselling novel Little Lord Fauntleroy (1886), while protected at the time in the United States, was adapted into a play in London without her permission. Burnett was angered by this unauthorized use, and successfully sued to retain control of her creation. The lawsuit set a precedent that led to stronger laws protecting creative works from piracy and unlicensed adaptation. So nowadays, when you see a movie or a play that’s been adapted from a novel, trust that the original author had some say in how the work was presented – thanks in part to Frances Hodgson Burnett.

“Cultivating Secret Gardens: Frances Hodgson Burnett and Children’s Fiction” was curated by Laura Braunstein and Jay Satterfield and will be on display in the class of 1965 Galleries until August 31, 2011.

The exhibition is mounted in conjunction with “100 Years of The Secret Garden: A Centenary Conference,” July 29-30, 2011, at Dartmouth College. For more information, go to The Leslie Center for the Humanities event site.

A Picture of Dorian Gray

2011-07-26T08:39:00.002-04:00

An inscribed first edition

As the name suggests, Oscar Wilde's A Picture of Dorian Gray is, in large part, about a picture. But, the first two publications of the story were not illustrated. That is not too surprising. Any self-respecting illustrator would have to shy away from depicting the painting Wilde describes as it takes on Dorian Gray's many sins through life.

The first printing of the story

We have many editions of the book, but only one where the illustrator tried to capture the painting at the end of Gray's life. For those who have read the book, the illustration is entirely unsatisfying. It can't hold a candle to the horrors we imagine.

Lucille Corcos's 1957 illustration for the Limited Editions Club

More successful are the illustrators who dabbled around the edges of the story to capture the mood without forcing the reader to face a concrete manifestation of the supernatural painting.

Henry Keen's illustration for 1925 The Bodley Head edition

J. E. Laboureur's Paris edition from 1928

To see the Pictures, ask for: Val 826 W64 U51; Val 826 W64 U512; Presses L629wip; Illus K25w; and Illus L114xw

Pass (on) the Corned Beef

2011-07-22T13:05:00.000-04:00

A member of the Hunt family recorded her distinct preference for desserts in a ledger book from the mid 1800s. Her recipe book has survived among the papers of five generations of the Hunt Family of Northampton, Massachusetts. Among dozens of newspaper clippings and handwritten notations are recipes for coconut macaroons, orange cake, cream pie, and ice cream. In addition to recipes, the book’s owner pasted in a number of practical household tips and popular remedies, including advice on silver polishing, pest prevention, freckle removal, and even goldfish husbandry. Dishes like Nottingham pudding, potted shad, and rice snow may be strange to today’s cooks, but familiar favorites like chicken salad, corned beef, and chocolate cake are also included.

One member of the cook’s family would not have approved of the corned beef. In addition to being a noted abolitionist and station master on the Underground Railroad, Seth Hunt (1814-1893) was a vocal vegetarian. He wrote a number of newspaper opinion articles on the benefits of a meat-free diet, proclaiming in one case: "Nature, in unmistakable language written on the anatomical structure of man, declares that his natural diet is derived from the vegetable kingdom, embracing the wonderful varieties of delicious fruits, glowing with rainbow hues and heavy with ambrosial juices; thus at once delighting the eye and regaling the taste." Hunt published vociferously on a variety of topics, and Rauner has clippings from many of his articles. It's documents like the recipe book, though, which give us a fuller picture of the quotidian life of a 19th-century New England family.

Both the recipe book and Seth Hunt’s newspaper clippings are part of the Hunt Family Collection at Rauner, which encompasses materials spanning nearly two hundred years of New England history. Ask for MS-1173.

Chime the Hour

2011-07-19T13:04:00.000-04:00

Baker Library is one of the signature sights in Hanover. Modeled after Independence Hall, the library stands high above the rest of the campus. Housed in the tower, which was specially designed for them, is a set of sixteen bells, the largest of which weighs almost three tons. The bell tones span an octave and a half (with a missing E flat) and carry on a tradition of marking the hours and class times.

Raising the bells to the tower, 1928

The bells were originally controlled by a mechanism similar to that used in a player piano. A set of paper rolls (over 1,000 at one point) were created with holes punched in them. As the rolls were fed through the controller, air was forced through the holes, which in turn made or broke electrical connections to the bell strikers. The pattern encoded on the paper translated into the tune played on the bells. Though the bells are controlled by a computer these days, the process is essentially the same pattern based method.

A view of the control room from 1980.

Tune selection has always been a matter of interest and the bells have been known to peal out everything from the Alma Mater to the Beatle's Yellow Submarine to the theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark. The main limitation to what music can be successfully played is a physical one - immediate repeats of a particular note are not possible. This made some requested songs, such as the Rolling Stones' You Can't Always Get What You Want, sound less than ideal.

To learn more about the bells, ask for the vertical file "Library - Tower (Bells, Weather Vane, Clock)." More images can be found in the photo file "Library - Baker - Bells."

Beautiful Writing

2011-07-15T10:38:00.000-04:00

Try to imagine a time when beautiful handwriting was considered so important that writing masters traveled the country giving lessons on practical and ornamental penmanship. Calligraphy, from the Greek words meaning "beautiful writing," is well represented in the Rauner collections, which include over two hundred manuals, writing books, and manuscripts, originally gathered by Professor Ray Nash. Rauner also holds a small group of manuscripts and some fifty books on the art of calligraphy, acquired by the Library from various other sources.

N.C. Knapp's Practical and Ornamental Chirography, ca. 1830, is not a printed book, but an album filled with painstakingly hand-penned examples of the art of calligraphy. The elegant, flowing lines swirl gracefully into animal shapes, angels, and other ornamental designs in addition to the letters of the alphabet. Imagine the agony of discovering a mistake after such laborious effort. One wonders whether Knapp just never noticed the rather glaring one on his title page, or eventually discovered it and decided he, and we, would simply have to live with it.

Ask for Codex 003046.

Ford K. Sayre '33

2011-07-12T09:52:00.001-04:00

In the fall of 1929 a young man from Glen Ridge, N.J. entered Dartmouth College and discovered his love for skiing. After graduating in 1933 he and his wife Margret (Peggy) became the managers at the Ravine Lodge on Moosilauke. In order to stimulate business at the Lodge, the Sayres started a junior ski school, held during the Christmas and February breaks. They fixed up a little farmhouse and called it Spyglass Hill. In 1935 the couple became the managers of the Hanover Inn and brought the ski school idea with them. On winter afternoons Ford would leave his office and take old skis and poles to various sites in the area, ready to teach any interested children to ski for free.

In 1942 Ford enlisted in the Army Air Force. After receiving training at Miami, Florida, he was assigned to duty as commanding officer of a regiment of African American troops in Spokane, Washington. However, his service was cut short when in 1944, during an air show meant to showcase the realism of aerial combat, the plane he was in collided with another, killing everyone on board. Wanting to continue her husband’s work with the ski school, Peggy asked that in lieu of sending flowers a fund be collected in Ford’s name so that his enthusiastic and effective interest in children’s skiing would be perpetuated.

By 1949 the demand for ski instruction was so great that the Community Junior Ski Council was formed to assist Peggy. By 1950 the JSC and the Ford K. Sayre Memorial Fund merged their activities into the present Ford. K. Sayre Memorial Ski Council so that in the spirit of Ford Sayre "Every child should have the chance to ski!"

To learn more about Ford K. Sayre and the Ford K. Sayre Memorial Ski Council ask for MS-1171 or his Alumni File.

Among the Clouds

2011-07-05T16:17:00.002-04:00

Now that the Fourth of July has passed, it is time to think about heading for higher ground to escape the summer heat. If it were 1881, you might hop on a special train out of Boston and head for the White Mountains. Included in our large collection of material related to the White Mountains is Among the Clouds, a regular newspaper published "During the Season" from the summit of Mount Washington. It provided news of the comings and goings of tourists, updates on good scenery, and of course, the weather report.

This issue from July 13 was only the second of the season for 1881. It was clear and cool with a high temperature of 57, and the paper reported that the snow banks were still particularly large on Mount Washington. But it was more than just the cool weather that delighted:

The full moon shone down upon the low hanging clouds last evening which fills Pinkham Notch and the valley of Saco. It was a beautiful sight and brought back to recollection the many similar views that we have witnessed here before. The clear, limitless view of mid-day bears no comparison with that of Monday evening. The rugged outlines were softened, and one seemed to be almost in fairy land.

Ask for White Mountains F41.1 .A56 to learn more about 19th-century tourist life in the White Mountains.

Happy Birthday Hanover!

2011-07-01T09:41:00.000-04:00

With the fall of Montreal to the British in September 1760, most of the continental fighting of the French and Indian War came to an end. Attention then turned to the peaceful settlement of northern New England. During his term of office, Royal Governor of New Hampshire Benning Wentworth granted over 140 town charters within the territory under his control, 78 of them in 1761 alone. Among these were the charters for several Upper Valley towns, on both sides of the Connecticut River, granted that summer.

In December of 1760, Edmund Freeman and Joseph Storrs had petitioned Govenor Wentworth for a grant, specifying land at the mouth of the Wells River, a particularly choice location in the beautiful and fertile Connecticut River valley. What Freeman, Storrs and their fellow proprietors received was the July 4, 1761, charter for the town of Hannover. The first settlers arrived in 1765, and by the time of a provincial census in 1767, the town had 92 residents.

The proprietors of Hanover were aware that the Rev. Eleazar Wheelock intended to establish his college in New Hampshire. To encourage his selection of Hanover as the site, they offered Wheelock large tracts of land, for support of the school and for himself personally. In August 1770, Wheelock, his family and a handful of students arrived on the Hanover plain to start the work of Dartmouth College.

The Library's latest exhibit, By His Excellency's Command, celebrates Hanover's 250th birthday. It will be on display in Baker Library Main Hall through August 31st.

Did you know that Dartmouth College has its own cemetery?

2011-06-24T11:27:00.008-04:00

Nestled between the Thayer School of Engineering complex and Fairbanks are 12 acres of land, the first acre of which was confirmed by the trustees as “a burying ground for the use of this College and the inhabitants of this vicinity,” in 1771. Given to the trustees by Eleazar Wheelock, it is the final resting place of eight college presidents, numerous trustees and treasurers as well as professors, students, town officials and other important members of the community. However, Eleazar Wheelock was not the first to be buried there. That honor belongs to his stepson Rev. John Maltby who died on Sept 30, 1771 at the age of forty-five of fever.

Dartmouth Cemetery Association
"Deaths on Hanover Plain"

In 1845 the Dartmouth Cemetery Association was formed and charged with improving and extending the existing grounds. As a result, roads were developed and terraces were built into the sides of deep ravines, which split the grounds into two large parcels, formerly connected by a footbridge. However, as funding for the Association dried up, the bridge, which over time had become unsafe for use, was taken down and never replaced. The lack of adequate finances also contributed to the disbursement of the Association in 1943, and the cemetery was deeded to the Town of Hanover which continues to be responsible for its upkeep.

William Dewey's "List of Deaths.."

In 1898 Dartmouth freshman Arthur H. Chivers took a stroll through the cemetery, which left such an impression on him that fifty years later, when he was a Professor of Biology at the college and a Selectman of the Town of Hanover, he undertook to update the existing charts of the cemetery made in 1862 and 1911. Utilizing William Worthington Dewey’s journal and his own observations, he prepared a new card index of all known burials in the cemetery, reading and recording the inscriptions on each stone. In addition he created diagrams of each lot showing the relative position of every monument, stone and marker in the “Old” Dartmouth Cemetery. Completed in 1950, his six-volume record was presented to the College Archives in 1963.

To see Chiver’s records ask for DH-38. William Worthington Dewey’s “List of deaths in the vicinity of Dartmouth College, including likewise the Hamlet usually called Greensborough, From AD 1769 to the last Date on the Register [1859]” is located in Vault 4.

Your House

2011-06-21T14:09:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite books in the collection is only five years old and contains just a single page of printed text. There are no words in Your House except for the colophon, (the note at the end of the volume which records the details of authorship and publication) -- just the negative space left from laser-cutting each of its 484 leaves.

Artist Olafur Eliasson designed the text block of Your House so that each leaf corresponds to just over two centimeters of horizontal space inside his own home. Turning the pages is a process of constantly discovering new spaces and details as we move through the house. All that's visible from the first few pages are a few doors and windows, but the house quickly opens up into a delicately detailed home complete with domed ceilings, a fireplace, and even a spiral staircase.

When the text block is initially opened, the spine of the book is vertical and the house aligns perfectly. But spine begins to move sideways to accommodate the turning of the pages, skewing the interior space and forcing the reader to look sideways to see into the house. The movement of the pages has other effects, too; even though Your House looks like a solid block of pages from the outside, that the cuts made into each page have resulted in a structure so delicate that the simple act of turning a page can warp a window frame or tear a step from a staircase.

Ask for Presses L559ely to see Eliasson's house for yourself.

Posted for Anne Peale '11

Jared P. Hubbard

2011-06-17T15:16:00.000-04:00

"Dear Mother. We are at last out of fighting…at least for a while." So begins one of the letters from Jared P. Hubbard, a Union soldier with the Second Regiment New Hampshire Volunteer Infantry, to his mother. Jared was twenty-four when he joined the army. Married, he wrote to his wife Judith regularly, telling her about his experiences and describing his surroundings. The 2nd New Hampshire regiment, organized in 1861, was the longest serving volunteer regiment of the State of New Hampshire fighting in all the major battles of the Civil War, from Bull Run to Gettysburg. At Gettysburg Jared narrowly escaped death when "the cannonading was the most terrific ever seen. The shells passed over our heads so close that we could feel the wind of it." Death, however, was everywhere. "The ground was actually covered with dead and wounded men, union and rebels all together, with hundreds of horses, and the stench was awful."

51,000 men died in the three-day battle. Jared's regiment, which had entered the battle with 353 soldiers, saw 47 killed, 136 wounded and 36 missing in the first three hours. When not in battle Jared's letters depict the sometimes mundane, every day life of a Union soldier, from asking for more shirts and stamps from his wife to scolding his mother for her accusation that he cared "nothing for her interest."

To read more of Jared's letters ask for MS-1157.

Not to be removed from the Reading Room

2011-06-15T08:17:00.000-04:00

The materials in Rauner are available for use only in our reading room, but we do at least let our users pick up and handle the items they request. The owners of a German law book in our Bindings collection clearly wanted to make sure the volume's users didn't walk away with the text - so they chained the book to its shelf. The manuscript was written in Latin around 1450 and bound with oak boards thick enough to support the substantial chain, which is fastened with a metal staple through the upper edge of the rear board. This somewhat drastic approach to security was fairly typical in institutional collections. Manuscripts were time-consuming to produce and hard to replace, especially if the source text was difficult to find. The practice of chaining books to their shelves was gradually abandoned as printing made texts cheaper and more easily available and as more fragile pasteboard bindings were substituted for heavy wood covers.

Ask for Bindings 122 to see this relic for yourself.

Posted for Anne Peale '11

The First Commencement

2011-06-10T07:56:00.000-04:00

In 1771 the first group of Dartmouth seniors completed their long, arduous and sometimes tedious studies and were about to graduate from this new institution. Dartmouth was not only new, it was rustic. Eleazar Wheelock had arrived in what is now Hanover in August of 1770. With the help of some 50 devoted followers, and a handful of slaves – we must not forget the slaves – Wheelock managed to carve something resembling a community out of the wilderness in the course of the following year.

From Wheelock’s description of the College that first year, we know that after much labor they managed to build a small one-story structure for Wheelock and his family and another two-story structure to house the students. All, in Wheelock’s words, “in the plainest and cheapest manner.” After several failed attempts, they managed to establish two working wells, but two attempts to build saw mills failed completely. Some small additions to these buildings were made the following summer.

By other accounts we know that the town itself was growing up around the College, since there was, by the time of the first Commencement, an inn or tavern nearby. Rough though the town and College still were, Wheelock put a good face on things. In a letter to a friend he wrote that Hanover was beginning to become a “habitable world.”

Somehow, in the midst of all this building, well digging and sawing, Wheelock managed to hold something resembling classes. In August of 1771, he was ready to graduate four students (no, they were not necessarily geniuses; they had been studying with Wheelock prior to his arrival in New Hampshire).

John Wentworth

Courtesy of the Hood Museum of Art

Currently on view
at the Hood Musuem of Art
in the American gallery

Wheelock called together the Board of Trustees to grant these first students their degrees. Invitations also went out to John Wentworth, the Royal Governor of the colony then in residence at Portsmouth, the New Hampshire Executive Council and many members of the clergy in New England.

In those days, travel to the Upper Valley was a somewhat arduous affair. Roads were, in Wheelock’s words, “new and bad.” Thus it should have come as no particular surprise that only one of the Trustees managed to show his face. Interestingly, an article in the Boston Evening-Post describing the affair noted that the audience included “a concourse of other persons beyond all expectation.” Of course, this might just have been a nice way of saying more people managed to make the journey than could have been expected under the circumstances.

But the poor showing by the Trustees was just the beginning of the problems that would beset this first of many celebrations. Governor Wentworth, clearly a hardier or more devoted soul than many of the Trustees, may have been the person who coined the good Yankee phrase “Ya can’t get thar from here.” The Governor and his retinue, numbering sixty or more by some accounts, were forced by the lack of roads running east and west in New Hampshire—a problem that persists into our own time—to travel by a wildly circuitous route. They began by going north to Wolfeboro and then through Haverhill, camping by the open road several nights in a row. Frustrated by this trip, Wentworth would later build an almost direct route from Portsmouth to Hanover that came to be known—fittingly—as the Governor’s road. Parts of this ancient highway still exist today, but alas, for those of us traveling east, much of it has returned to its original state—forest.

Once all were assembled, it was found that because they were lacking a quorum of the Trustees, they could not actually award the degrees. Instead, each graduate was issued a simple piece of paper in place of a formal diploma until such time as a proper vote could be taken.

From here, things went from bad to worse. The only thing that seems to have cooperated was the weather. “There was a stand erected… from which each graduate presented the assembly with an oration. The graduates then performed an anthem that they had composed and set to music.” Following the ceremony there was a meal. Unfortunately Mrs. Wheelock was “sick in bed and wholly confined to her chamber” and thus unable to participate in any of the proceedings. This was particularly unfortunate, as Wheelock explained later, because “the chief cook I had depended upon for the College was laid asleep it was said, by making too free with the bottle.” In the same letter Wheelock notes, “We were indeed in very trying circumstances.” All in all, it was pretty rough affair and some of the finer gentry in the crowd “turned up their noses at the plainness of the surroundings.”

The Wentworth Bowl

After his return to Portsmouth, Governor Wentworth sent Wheelock a gift. This gift was no small piece and carried a great deal of symbolism. He sent a large silver bowl, weighing, by one account, sixty-six ounces or just over four pounds. But this was not just a bowl, or as some have called it, a “punch-bowl with a movable crown”; it was a monteith. A monteith, for those who don’t have one of these at home—or have never heard of this article—is a bowl for chilling wine glasses. The crown is for holding the stems so that the cup of the glass can rest in the cold water inside the bowl.

What is significant about this gift is that a monteith is something that only a gentleman of high station would have in his house—a member of the nobility as Wentworth was. Remember that Wheelock lived in a rude log cabin in the midst of a wilderness that had only recently been shaped into something resembling a settlement. The gift of the monteith can be seen as symbolic gesture. Though the College was a crude and rough place where an elegant silver monteith would serve little or no function, Wentworth’s gift showed that he hoped it would grow to be a place where such an item was not out of place – in short, that Dartmouth would become a shining, elegant and revered thing in time. Wentworth gave this bowl as something for the College to grow into.

So, at each Commencement, as we look back on and celebrate the rough beginnings of the College, we should also remember the monteith as a symbol of what Dartmouth must always strive to be.

Ask for:

A Continuation of the Narrative of the Indian Charity-School, in Lebanon, in Connecticut: From the Year 1768, to the Incorporation of it with Dartmouth-College, and Removal and Settlement of it in Hanover, in the Province of New-Hampshire, 1771: DC Hist E97.6.M5 W55 1771

Eleazar Wheelock, Hanover, NH to Moses Peck, August 5, 1771, regarding conditions in Hanover: DC Hist Mss 771455.3

Aaron Storrs, Portsmouth NH to Eleazar Wheelock, August 10, 1771, regarding roads: DC Hist Mss 771460

Eleazar Wheelock, Hanover, NH to William Patton, September 2, 1771, regarding success of Commencement: DC Hist Mss 771455.3

Vertical Files: Commencement 1771-

The Wentworth Bowl, Realia 109

Class Day

2011-06-07T08:16:00.001-04:00

Class Day, usually the day preceding Commencement, began with the seniors meeting at the senior fence dressed in caps and gowns. From there they formed a procession, headed by the College band, and marched from the fence to the steps of Dartmouth Hall, where the class president gave a welcome speech. This was generally a short nostalgic piece that looked back at the class’s experience over the previous four years.

The President’s address was followed by the Address to College and the Class Oration. In 1912 this was a short speech looking forward to life after College titled “The Other Eight Hours,” a discourse on work and avocation.

Following the oration, the procession reformed and marched to the Bema. Here the Class Poem was read. Again, nostalgia was the rule, but also an epic poem style was often adopted.

The darkness rests on mullion and rafter,
High and unlit of the lamp below.
The great hall wakes with the lights and the laughter,
Of the last, long feast in the home we know.
The tapestries stir in their ancient places,
In the high-hung helms flicker spectral faces;
Sweet are the joys that toil comes after,
And the final goblet is emptied slow.

The Class Poem was followed by the Sachem Oration. In later years this was done on the site of the Old Pine. This was more light-hearted and satirical. It was also done in full Indian garb and couched in Olde English.

Give ear and hearken, ye braves of Occom. For many days the signals of the great hunt have burned and signs of the chase has been upon the hilltops. It is well then, that ye should meet in council, that ye should smoke the sacred peace pipe, and should see the smoke uprising, the Pukwana of the peace pipe, while you pledge anew as man to brother.

Since the whole idea of the Sachem Oration was based on the Hovey song “Eleazar,” it was often followed with a drink of rum, since that satirical song has Wheelock bringing a 500-gallon keg of rum with him to share with the imaginary Indians he met on the Hanover plain.

The Sachem Oration was followed by the class ode. This was a song or chant. In 1921 it was sung to the tune of an old Welsh song called the Men of Harlech. The ode began:

Here we stand with life before us
Dartmouth’s green still waving o’er us
Raise a song in sounding chorus:
Dartmouth live for aye!

At this point the procession reformed and everyone adjourned to the Old Pine where the pipe smoking took place. This was a symbolic peace pipe ceremony related to the fictitious meeting between Eleazar Wheelock and the Abenaki Sachem, again, as depicted in Hovey’s song “Eleazar.” Traditional 18th-century style clay pipes were used.

Once the pipes were smoked, they were broken on the stump of the Old Pine following its demise in 1892. This was to symbolize the breaking of the seniors’ bonds with the College in their role as students.

While the pipes were smoked, or just before, there was also an address to the Old Pine. As with so many of these addresses, it was again a nostalgic address that also admonished the listeners to go forth and make the institution proud of them.

Here is a brief example from 1921:

Let us take a backward glimpse, for a moment, with the spirit of the Old Pine. Towering above its companions on this eminence, for nearly a century it greeted first the rising sun and was the last to catch its declining rays…. That majestic pine is gone. And yet the qualities called to mind by its remnant indicate the significance of this rite. Uprightness, vigor, and courage, the Old Pine had in its day; and we, too, must evidence these characteristics if we would as successfully rise to the places of superior trust and opportunity which the college has made possible for us.

Finally the Dartmouth song was sung, the procession reformed and marched to the senior fence where they received their class books (the Aegis) and dispersed.

The Flood of 1927

2011-06-03T08:08:00.000-04:00

On November 2, 1927, the forecast in Vermont called for "fair and colder." However, as with many predictions, this one proved false. Around 9:00 PM that evening, the rain started. It didn't stop until two days later and almost nine inches of rain had fallen - the same as had fallen for the previous two months combined.

The already saturated ground was unable to absorb the additional water and the rivers overflowed, causing one of the worst natural disasters in the history of Vermont. Many of the towns along the rivers were severely damaged as cars, trains, roads, bridges and even buildings were washed away.

Hanover is located on a hill overlooking the Connecticut River and escaped flooding damage, but the nearby towns of Hartford and White River Junction were devastated. In White River Junction, the water level reached some second floors after rising 38 feet over its normal level. Dartmouth students, including Nelson Rockefeller '30, aided in the recovery effort and according to a local newspaper account, were organized into nine divisions of one hundred and set to work removing the accumulated mud and debris. After a long day of recovery efforts, the local Police Chief, perhaps somewhat optimistically, declared that the homes the Dartmouth men had worked on would be "almost as good as new," thanks to the students' efforts.


These three images are unidentified other than the location and date, but appear to be Dartmouth students on the scene in White River Jct. in 1927.

Ask for the vertical and photo files on "Floods" to learn more.

Wet Down

2011-05-31T11:21:00.000-04:00

One of the more curious Senior Week traditions, which is no longer practiced, is Wet Down, which began sometime before 1885. As with all traditions, it morphed and changed over time. At one point Wet Down appears to have been the conclusion to Sing-out (a community concert), but later it took on a life of its own and became a stand-alone activity. For many years it served as the kickoff for Senior Week.

Wet Down began with a parade of the classes through campus to the President’s house. Along the way cheers were given to each of the College buildings on the route and to the houses of dignitaries (such as the Dean) and/or for each of the classes. At the President’s house, the President would give a brief speech and the procession would continue on, culminating at the Senior Class Tree where a ritual keg of lemonade—possibly of the hard variety—was consumed. As part of this ritual, participants would splash some of their lemonade on the tree (thus the term “wet down”).

By 1901 the tradition also involved the transfer of the senior fence from the seniors to the juniors as well as the transfer of power from the outgoing Palaeopitus officers to the incoming officers.

Sometime in the early 1900s the tradition of the three lower classes running the gauntlet was added. This involved the seniors lining up in two rows across the Green, or sometimes down College Street, and the other three classes would have to run between the rows while the seniors beat them with belts and paddles. New Hampshire State law now prohibits this sort of behavior as a form of hazing.

Later, Wet Down came to be the occasion when sports awards were given out.

Of the Newest and Best Fashion

2011-05-27T13:52:00.002-04:00

Sometime in the 16th-century, young Elizabeth Carew wrote to her father in London. The formality of the letter would surprise most modern readers, but the subject matter might not. She asked him for a new satin gown "of the newest and best fashion."

We have this cataloged as a letter from 1590, which would mean Elizabeth Carew was the daughter of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton and Anne Carew. If so, then the dress was most certainly a success. The next year, Elizabeth was secretly married to Sir Walter Raleigh, leading to his arrest and imprisonment.

But, more likely, this Elizabeth Carew was one generation earlier, the daughter of Elizabeth Bryan and Nicolas Carew. That would make the more famous Elizabeth her niece and date the letter from the middle part of the century.

The letter is on display through June 30th in our current student-curated exhibition, "Bringing out the Leaves: Manuscripts and Their Meaning." After June 30, just ask for Lansburgh 29 to see it.

Senior Canes

2011-05-24T17:02:00.002-04:00

The idea of Senior Canes derived from a rule, dating back to the early years of the College, that only upper classmen should be allowed to carry canes. This was because a cane was an accoutrement of a gentleman and freshmen were too young and immature to have attained such distinction. This led to such traditions as Cane Rush.

The practice of carving senior canes began in 1885, when A. Herbert Armes, then a senior, asked his friends to autograph his walking stick before graduation. In the 1890s, Charles Dudley, Class of 1902, designed the now infamous Indian Head Canes, which became the ubiquitous canes carried by seniors. Over time the carvings on the canes become more and more intricate and included images of the College Seal, the Casque and Gauntlet symbol, Dartmouth Hall and similar icons of the institution.

Indian head canes went the way of the Indian symbol in the 1970s, but in more recent years it has become a tradition for the graduating members of secret societies to carry canes during Commencement. Following in the footsteps of early cane carvers, the Presidents carve their names in the Class Marshal's staff that they carry during Commencement ceremonies.

Ask for:

Vertical File: Senior Canes
Photo File: Senior Canes
Realia 137, Wood gouge
Uncat Realia: Senior Canes

Matthew Bullock '04

2011-05-20T08:10:00.000-04:00

In 1900, a young man arrived at Dartmouth College carrying only one suitcase and $50 dollars. Matthew Washington Bullock, the son of slaves, became a star athlete at Dartmouth, playing on four varsity football and track teams. In addition to his athletic prowess he had a love of music and sang in several glee clubs as well. He graduated from Dartmouth in 1904 and headed to Harvard Law School from which he graduated in 1907. Over the next ten years he taught economics and sociology at Morehouse College, became the Dean of the Alabama State Agricultural and Mechanical College for Negroes, and practiced law in Atlanta. Wanting to serve his country during WW I Matt tried to enlist in 1917, but was rejected because of what was then called an "athletic heart." Never one to give up, he joined the war effort of the YMCA and served fifteen months in France. At the end of the war he was one of the workers selected to represent the organization at the Burial of the Unknown Soldier.

After the war Matt returned to Boston where he continued to practice law and was very active in civic affairs. In 1927 Governor Fuller appointed him to the State Board of Parole and the Advisory Board of Pardons. According to a report in his alumni file Matt always gave first thought to the welfare and safety of the public when dealing with the cases of prisoners being considered for parole. One story tells of the occasion when an application for parole was turned down and the rejected applicant, in seeing Matt, became so furious that he started to rush directly towards him. The applicant, however, was not aware that Matt had received very good instruction on the gridiron at Hanover on how to deal with human beings who came rushing towards him, and the prisoner, very surprisingly, found himself pinned to the floor in about one second flat and remained firmly pinned until the guards came and took him away.

Among his many achievements, the one that Matt was most proud of came in the waning days of WWII, when, in 1945, he was asked by Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal, to join a commission of six men who where appointed to investigate conditions between black and white enlisted men in the Pacific theatre. The assignment resulted in a report that began the process of racial integration of naval personnel.

Ask for MS 1153 to see more photos of Matt or for his Alumni File to read more about him.

From Medieval Britain to Dartmouth

2011-05-17T09:58:00.000-04:00

This Friday and Saturday, we will be feting our 15th-century Brut Chronicle manuscript with a conference, From Medieval Britain to Dartmouth, organized by Michelle Warren of the Department of Comparative Literature and sponsored by the Leslie Center for the Humanities and the Dartmouth College Library.

To accompany the conference, eight students have collaborated with Professor Warren to curate an exhibition here in Rauner drawing from our Medieval holdings. "Bringing out the Leaves: Manuscripts and their Meaning," looks at manuscripts and early printed books from different vantage points to show how their meanings shift in varying contexts. The exhibit will remain up through June, so even if you can't make it to the conference, you can stop by and see some beautiful manuscripts.

Codex 001969

"Trust No Future"

2011-05-13T17:49:00.000-04:00

In 1901, William Carroll Hill published a small volume, Dartmouth Traditions, being a compilation of stories about Dartmouth events and alumni. Within this book, Jedediah Hayward provides “A Dartmouth Tragedy,” the sad tale of the drowning of Henry Ellis Beecher Stowe, eldest son of Harriet Beecher Stowe and the Rev. Calvin Stowe.

Hayward had been badly hazed as a freshman and he and a classmate decided that they would prevent this from happening at least to some members of the next freshman class by being their roommates the following year. To this end, he invited a Thetford Academy senior, Henry Stowe, to room with him in the fall. They became great friends, and Hayward described him as a delightful roommate.

On July 9, 1857, the summer of his freshman year, Stowe and a couple of his classmates took to the Connecticut River, swimming across to the Vermont shore. Once there, they climbed up the bank, across the road, and started picking wild strawberries, until a local resident chased them off.

Stowe’s classmates were able to run to the river and swim across to the sand bar close to the New Hampshire side, but Stowe was too tired to reach the spot where he could stand and was overtaken by the river current. His friends made brave attempts to save him, risking their own lives in the effort, until they, too, became too exhausted to hold on any longer.

There is a copy of the Thetford Academy commencement program in Henry Stowe’s file. He gave an oration the year he graduated: “Trust No Future.”

Ask to see the Alumni File for Henry Stowe, Class of 1860.

Hours in Print

2011-05-10T13:18:00.000-04:00

Most people associate books of hours with illuminated medieval manuscripts, not printed books. Throughout the first fifty years of printing, manuscript copies of these prayer books continued to be made. The market demanded luxury items, richly illuminated with gold and hand painted miniatures on soft vellum. The new technology of movable type was not seen as appropriate for these monuments to personal piety.

That changed in 1500 when Paris printer Simon Vostre began creating elaborately illustrated printed books of hours on vellum. This one, printed between 1500 and 1505, contains 18 full-page woodcuts, 30 smaller ones, and historiated woodcut borders on each page. An elaborate dance of death runs though the office of the dead. To "finish" the book, and make it harmonious with his customers' expectations of a book of hours, Vostre had the capitals and line ornaments hand illuminated in gold, red, and blue.

You can see for yourself by asking for Rauner Incun 154.

Ovid in Emblems

2011-05-06T15:34:00.000-04:00

This curious edition printed in Lyon in 1564 reduces Ovid's Metamorphoses to a series of exquisitely executed woodcuts. The images, accompanied by only short snippets of text, become emblems for the myths they represent. Ovid was so prevalent in the culture that the publisher could count on his audience knowing the stories, so he could use the Metamorphoses as a vehicle for Bernard Saloman illustrations.

Our copy is bound in limp vellum and lies open in the palm of your hand, feeling almost weightless. We often argue that working with rare books can lead a student to ask questions he or she may never have thought to ask. The tactile and visual experience of this book evokes an ill-defined sense of the past. It sends you back in time and begs you to imagine the original owner holding it in 16th-century France.

Come experience it yourself by asking for Rare PA6523.M2T6 1564.

Reader's Indigest

2011-05-03T17:35:00.001-04:00

Shortly after Castro's rise to power, this satirical supplement to La Revista Mella was published in Havana. Like a kind of anti-Dartmouth Jack-O-Lantern or MAD magazine for revolutionaries, nothing capitalist or imperialist was spared from ridicule. The seemingly tame front cover, with its inspirational quotation from Winston Churchill and a depiction of a hard working European farmer, dissolves into a fierce social critique when opened fully.

The issue goes on to lampoon bastions of middle-class America: Coca-Cola, Reader's Digest, and the Saturday Evening Post. Despite the anti-capitalistic theme, some of the humor is universal, like the condensed version of Romeo and Juliet, which would not have been out of place on any supermarket shelf.

Come see it by asking for Salaciones del Reader's Indigest, Rare PN 6790.C7 S35

The Hartford Bridge Disaster of 1887

2011-04-29T17:13:00.000-04:00

In the frigid early morning hours of Saturday, February 5, 1887, a Vermont Central train, the “night express,” was heading north to Montreal. Having just left the station in White River Junction, it approached the 650-foot long wooden trestle bridge across the White River, four miles north of town. The train consisted of an engine, a baggage car, a mail car, two passenger coaches, a sleeping car from Springfield, Massachusetts, and a Pullman car from Boston. All told, about 80 people were on the train that morning.

There was a jolt as the train approached the bridge abutment. The rear sleeper jumped the tracks and fell from the bridge onto the frozen river 40 feet below, taking with it the three cars ahead of it. These cars uncoupled from the front of the train, which was able to get off the bridge to safety. The impact of the fall scattered the coaches, and they almost instantly caught fire, likely from the burning stoves and oil lamps on board. The burning cars then set fire to the bridge, and it, too, collapsed onto the ice.

The Paine house where the wounded were first taken,
and where Conductor Strutevant died February 6.

Reports indicate that the temperature was nearly 20 below zero, and the ice on the river nearly 2 feet thick, so water was not readily available. Unable to abate the fire, survivors and the volunteers who had rushed to the scene placed their efforts on getting as many people as possible out of the wreckage before the flames made it impossible be near the train. Accounts vary, but approximately 35 people died in the crash and fire, and another 40 were injured, making this the worst rail disaster in Vermont.

South abutment from the ice,
showing broken trucks, etc., in foreground

This photograph of the disaster, along with several others, were taken by Hanover photographer H.H.H. Langell. During the subsequent investigation, he also photographed the section of flawed rail blamed for the accident.

Ask for the "Hartford, Vermont Bridge Disaster" photo file and the "Hartford (Vermont) Bridge Wreck" vertical file to find out more about this incident.

Audubon: Birds, and Mammals Too

2011-04-26T17:59:00.001-04:00

As today is the 226th birthday of John James Audubon, it seemed fitting to write an entry about him. Since we've posted previously about the double elephant folio edition of Birds of America and why our set has special meaning here at Dartmouth, we turn to a lesser known, but equally impressive work, Quadrupeds of North America.

After the success of Birds of America, Audubon set out to produce a companion book focusing on American mammals. Drawing the mammals from life was more challenging than it had been with the birds, as many of the animals were nocturnal. In addition, Audubon was becoming increasingly frail and was unable to travel to the extent that the work necessitated. His health failing, Audubon could not complete all of the drawings; his son, John Woodhouse Audubon, did many of them. His son Victor Gilford created the backgrounds and most of the text was written by Rev. John Bachman, a naturalist and clergyman. The last of the three volumes appeared in 1848; Audubon died three years later.

Canada Lynx

Ask for Rauner Rare QL715 .A92 (3 vols.) to see our edition of the Quadrupeds.

Happy 300th Birthday, Eleazar!

2011-04-22T07:51:00.000-04:00

It may not be a national holiday, but today is the 300th birthday of the Rev. Eleazar Wheelock, Dartmouth’s founder and demiurge. Born on April 22, 1711 in Windham Connecticut, Wheelock showed great promise from a young age. While attending Yale as a member of the class of 1733, he was awarded the Berkley Scholarship for academic excellence. Upon his graduation and acceptance into the Congregationalist ministry, Wheelock crisscrossed New England igniting spiritual fervor in the hearts and minds of men as one of the more successful preachers of the Great Awakening.

In an effort to supplement his meager ministerial salary, Wheelock began boarding and preparing young men for their college matriculation. One such pupil was a young Mohegan, Samson Occom, who showed such promise and agility of mind that Wheelock was inspired to found a school with the express purpose of educating Native Americans, so that they might return to their own communities as missionaries and schoolmasters. However, Wheelock envisioned a far larger undertaking than could be accommodated in his Connecticut farm house. Following a fundraising trip to Europe, led by Occom and Nathanial Whitaker, Wheelock finally had sufficient backing to found his college in the woods. Dartmouth College received its royal charter on December 13,1769, and in August 1770, Wheelock’s students marched over 100 miles to the school’s new location in Hanover, New Hampshire.

Eleazar Wheelock died in Hanover in 1779. One can’t help but wonder what Rev. Wheelock would think of his small college in the wilderness if he were able to see Dartmouth today.

Posted for Jo Meyer '11.

Leavitt's Maps of the White Mountains

2011-04-19T17:15:00.000-04:00

Franklin Leavitt was a farmer from Lancaster, New Hampshire who supplemented his income by acting as a guide for visitors to the White Mountains. Around 1851, apparently having concluded that there was enough interest in the region, he decided to create a map of the area and sell it to tourists. Though his map included some rudimentary information about distances between major cities and area attractions, it was not to be used as a travel aid, but rather act as a souvenir of the trip.

Published in 1852, the first edition had north at the bottom of the map and included small vignettes of area hotels and local attractions. Later editions of Leavitt's maps, including the 1854 edition shown here, re-oriented the drawing so that north faced the more conventional top of the sheet and added additional illustrations.

The Willey Family Tragedy.

One of these pictorial views tells the tale of the destruction of the Willey family. In 1826, the Willey family became concerned that a landslide might destroy their house and so built a shelter in what was supposed to be a safer location. In a twist of tragic irony, when the feared slide did occur, a large boulder near the house diverted the slide around the house while flattening the "safer" shelter that the Willey's and their hired hands hand just taken refuge in.

Rauner holds all eight editions of Leavitt's maps, including the rare 1876 version. Ask for Iconography 1294 to see the maps.

The Wandering Poet of New Hampshire

2011-04-15T14:03:00.000-04:00

This blog began its life as a way to mark this week in U.S. history, particularly the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War, and the week in which Lincoln was assassinated four years later, 15 April 1865. Somewhere along the line, however, it took a turn toward the work of George Gordon Byron DeWolfe, “The Wandering Poet of New Hampshire.”

According to Bela Chapin’s The Poets of New Hampshire, George G.B. DeWolfe was born in Canada in 1835. He left home at the age of twenty to come to the United States where he started his career traveling from place to place, writing verses on people and events. Many of his verses were printed as broadsides, and Dartmouth holds eight of them, including this one on the assassination of President Lincoln.

DeWolfe’s poetry documented a wide range of topics, from murder and disaster, to visits by famous people. Dartmouth’s collection of his broadsides is fairly representative of his work, including a beach gathering in Salisbury, a celebration in Londonderry and President Grant’s visit to Nashua… along with a murder, an assassination and a fire.

Sadly, the College does not own his last broadside, published three years after his death, the verse composed by DeWolfe from beyond the grave through the mediumship of Miss Lillie.

Ask for Broadside 000099 to see the original.

Selling Huck Finn

2011-04-12T17:15:00.002-04:00

It sure looks like Huck Finn, but it's not. A closer inspection of this rather slim volume of the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn reveals that it is not all there. No, it is not an expurgated edition designed to satisfy censorious school boards, but a sample volume used by book sellers to market the first edition.

In the 19th century, many rural areas did not have book stores. At that time, the traveling book seller was still a major component of the book distribution network in the United States. This salesman's sample book featured the gold stamped publisher's binding, the table of contents, a list of illustrations and enough text to get a feel for the novel. Emphasis was placed on the physical qualities of the book and nearly all of the sample pages are illustrated. Two alternate de-luxe bindings are also displayed. At the end are eight pages of blank ruled paper for orders. This copy, which we recently acquired, has 12 signatures representing orders from the town of Edinburg (perhaps Indiana). None opted for the more expensive bindings. Take a look by asking for Rare PS1350 .A3 1883.

Bindings options

Orders

An Open Polar Sea

2011-04-08T08:18:00.000-04:00

Early expeditions to the Arctic attempted to force their way through sea ice in hopes of finding a practical northwest trade route to the East Indies, but even after unpredictable ice conditions and extreme cold made it clear that the tantalizing shortcut was impractical, if not impossible, explorers continued to push their ships and crews into the Arctic's icy waters.

One reason for the persistence of these explorers was a theory that the seas around the pole were not covered in ice, but open and easily navigable--if the explorers could only push their way through the thick ring of ice surrounding those warmer waters.

The theory of the open polar sea was persistent, with roots stretching back to the 1600s and lasting late into the 19th century. Its proponents included many prominent figures in the history of Arctic exploration, including Danes Barrington, a powerful politician in the British Admiralty, and Elisha Kent Kane, a famous and popular American explorer.

A number of authors published books and pamphlets in support of the open polar sea theory, including American hydrographer Silas Bent. Bent writes with conviction in An Address Delivered before the St. Louis Mercantile Library Association, January 6th, 1872, upon the Thermal Paths to the Pole, the Currents of the Ocean, and the Influence of the Latter upon the Climates of the World, arguing that warm ocean currents moving north from the equator must surely create an ice-free zone around the pole.

Despite reports from whalers and explorers of impenetrable sea ice in the northern oceans, some armchair theorizers and even British naval officials remained convinced of the existence of an open polar sea well into the nineteenth century.

Ask for Stefansson G615 .B42 to explore this curiosity yourself.

Posted for Anne Peale '11

Lewiston - a Town that Disappeared

2011-04-06T08:17:00.001-04:00

Do you ever wonder what can happen to make a town vanish? Lewiston, VT, started out life as a small community on the Connecticut River. Founded in the late eighteenth century, the town really came into its own when a more modern railroad station was constructed there in 1884. The station, which replaced an earlier, smaller freight depot (see image) was used by the towns of Norwich, VT, and Hanover, NH, and provided coal and other necessities to the area.

In the early twentieth century, the station's importance began to decline and with it the town's. Most of the area rail commerce became centered in White River Junction, VT, though the station in Lewiston remained open until 1960. Having barely survived the construction of the Wilder Dam in Wilder, VT, in 1950, which flooded much of the low-lying farm areas near the river, the final blow came in 1967 when most of Lewiston was razed to make way for Interstate 91 and the access roads to Norwich and Hanover. Today only a few scattered buildings remain of what was once a typical rural community.

Lewiston ca. 1870

Lewiston in 1967 - before the I-91 construction.

April Fool's Day - The Autumn Version

2011-04-01T08:40:00.000-04:00

While attempting to showcase this day of hoax and trickery, of practical joke and parody, we sadly discovered that Dartmouth historically hasn’t been all that big on April Fool’s Day.

However, for many years the editorial board of The Dartmouth took full advantage of its powers before turning the newspaper over to the new board by publishing a spoof issue late in fall term. Campus, national and international events and people were all potential targets. In light of current renovations to the Hanover Inn, it’s interesting to note that one year The D reported that the College was turning the Inn into a dorm, rooms going to the students who submitted the best essays on why they deserved to live like kings. The College got rid of varsity hockey in favor of figure skating, appointed George Steinbrenner as Athletic Director, and removed the bells from Baker tower because, well, the chimes were never on the right hour anyway and the bonging was just so annoying. On the world stage, The D announced there had been worldwide peace for a full 20 seconds one year, and reported on Quebec’s invasion of Ontario in another.

The humor was not always appreciated, and some readers found certain columns offensive. Still other articles were so subtle that one reader (me) briefly believed that the College actually was going to close, and sell, all fraternity houses. However, I doubt anyone took The D’s claim seriously when they reported that after 191 years in business, they would cease publishing; obviously they were having way too much fun for that to be true.

The Second Folio

2011-03-29T16:41:00.000-04:00

One of the most requested items in our collection is our copy of Shakespeare's first folio from 1623. But we want to spread a little love to the rarely requested second folio of 1632. Textually, it is similar to the first folio, though many minor editorial changes were made to update language and correct errors. It also contains what is believed to be John Milton's first published poem: "An Epitaph on the admirable Dramaticke Poet, W. Shakespeare." Milton would have only been 24 years old at the time, but the young poet served as a tie to the first folio where the brief "To the Memory of M.W. Shake-speare" appeared, likely written by Milton's father.

We actually have two copies. The one pictured here was donated to the Library by Allerton Hickmott '17, who also gave us the first folio, third folio, fourth folio, several original quarto editions and a fabulous collection of Elizabethan drama and poetry.

So, next time you are in the mood for some Shakespeare, ask for Hickmott 2, the lonely neighbor of Hickmott 1.

The Perfect Page

2011-03-25T16:02:00.001-04:00

An imperfect image of a perfect page

In 1470 Nicolas Jenson printed the first book to employ his new Roman type, Eusebius's De euangelica praeparatione. Jenson is believed to have come to Venice from Germany where he had learned the new craft of printing. When he set up his own printing house in Venice, he cut his type to reflect the humanist hand favored by Italian scribes. The result is the grandfather of all Roman typefaces, one that is still emulated today.

Jenson is also famous for his austere text blocks, perfect in proportion and obsessive in layout and typography. Below is T.J. Cobden Sanderson's homage to Jenson, his The English Bible (Hammersmith: Doves Press, 1903).

To see Jenson's masterpiece, ask for Incunabula 54. For the Doves Bible, ask for Hickmott 94.

The Wheelock Succession in Chairs

2011-03-22T13:35:00.001-04:00

In addition to the presidential portrait that each member of the Wheelock Succession sits for during his presidency, the College has another tradition for honoring its former presidents: a mahogany Chippendale-style chair with a seat cover worked in needlepoint, showcasing a variety of symbols representing the president and his administration. No two seat covers are alike nor are the stories and accomplishments behind the symbols. The Ticknor Room in Rauner Library has recently become the new home of fourteen of these chairs after they spent many years serving as the dining room chairs in the President’s House.

The idea for the chairs began with Mrs. John Sloan Dickey in 1958. Using designs created by John Scotford '38 for the first twelve presidents (with the help of the College Archives), Christina Dickey worked the needlepoint covers over a period of twelve years. She completed the twelfth chair, honoring her husband, in 1970, the year of his retirement from the presidency.

The tradition has been carried on with the newest addition of a chair honoring the 16th president of the College, James Wright. The needlepoint for the Wright chair was worked by President and Mrs. Dickey's daughter and granddaughter. That chair, coupled with the chair of Dartmouth's 15th president, James Freedman, is currently on display in the Treasure Room in Baker Library.

To see the chairs of the first fourteen members of the Wheelock Succession and to study the key to the symbols on all sixteen chairs, come to Rauner Library and ask to be directed to the Ticknor Room and to see Rauner Iconography 1282.

Photos: James Wright Chair by Joe Mehling '69; Ernest Martin Hopkins Chair by Jon Gilbert Fox

Get Katy to the Nunnery!

2011-03-18T10:19:00.000-04:00

We are introduced to the town of Hillsover and Arrowmouth College in What Katy Did at School, by Sarah Woolsey, first published in 1873. Katy’s school was based on the Select Family School for Young Ladies in Hanover, which the author had attended sometime prior to her family’s move from Cleveland to New Haven in 1855.

Mrs. Peabody, widow of Dartmouth Professor David Peabody, ran the school until 1850, and Mrs. Hubbard, wife of Dartmouth Professor Oliver Payson Hubbard, continued on from 1852 until 1865. As shown in this brochure from 1861, annual tuition, room and board was listed at $250, while the same expenses at the College averaged $165 that year. The school operated in a house on the current site of Rauner Library until the Hubbards moved the institution into their own house on North Main Street.

“What’s the name of the school?” asked Katy. Her voice sounded a good deal like a sob.

“The girls call it ‘The Nunnery.’ It is at Hillsover, on the Connecticut River, pretty far north. And the winters are pretty cold, I fancy; but the air is sure to be good and bracing. That is one thing which has inclined me to the plan. The climate is just what you need.”

“Hillsover? Isn’t there a college there, too?”

“Yes: Arrowmouth College.”

Although the descriptions are more colorful in Ms. Woolsey’s novel, town and college publications mention the distracting influence a school for young ladies had on an all male campus. John Scales writes in his sketches of the Dartmouth Class of 1863:

“The chief interest of the students in general centered on the 'Nuns' when they marched out in procession, under guard, on pleasant afternoons to get an 'airing,' and in church on Sundays.”

And John King Lord in his History of the Town of Hanover, 1929, claims that the young ladies “furnished a center of attraction and a subject of conversation of more general interest than any since enjoyed, not even excepting the athletics of modern days.”

Ask for DC History PZ 7.W887 Wha to read Katy's story.

Wearers of the Green

2011-03-15T14:47:00.001-04:00

That would be Dartmouth Green not Irish Green, despite the time of year. Why Green and how was it chosen? It's a question that has been asked often over the years, and, nearly as often, has elicited a different answer.

The class of 1866 claims that they were the ones who came up with the idea of a school color and were also responsible for choosing the color green. J. E. Johnson '66, wrote a short discourse in the Bema (a student magazine) in 1917, where he made the claim on the part of his class. According to Johnson, Harvard started the idea of school colors and "passed the buck Dartmouth." A committee of the senior class (the Class of 1866) was appointed to determine a color, but they could not decide. So, they asked the two "best known and best loved young women in town": Sally Smith and Kate Sanborn, the daughter of the president and a professor respectively. The two women decided promptly on green "as being the handsomest of all colors."

Green with envy the Class of 1867 refutes this saccharin story. According to an article by Professor Bartlett published in the Dartmouth Bi-Monthly, William Ketcham, '67, claims the idea of a school color was brought to Dartmouth's attention by Amherst College. He says that Amherst came up in 1866 to teach the Dartmouth men the new game of baseball and arrived flying the College colors (purple in Amherst's case). Not having a color rankled the Dartmouth team. "Sixty-six did nothing about it, however, and it was not until '67 came to the front as the senior class that anything was done."

Frederick G. Mather, also '67, supports Ketcham's claim that it was their class who chose the color, but he has a different story about how it came about. Mather points to their classmate Alfred A. Thomas as the "originator, promoter and executor of the idea." He claims, and a Dartmouth article from the time period bears out, that Thomas attended a regatta in 1866 where Harvard and Yale turned out with school colors (crimson and blue), but Dartmouth had no color.

None of the '67s cast much light on why they chose the color green, though there is a claim that it was the only "primary" color left (we aren't exactly sure what they considered "primary," we learned it was red, yellow, and blue in our primary school). There was no talk of symbolism or meaning behind the choice.

There is less disagreement over the shade of green. And here we have evidence to turn to. In Rauner's collection is a framed ribbon that is claimed to be the original green selected at the mass meeting in (sic) the fall 1866.

So on March 17th you can wear your green whether it is for St. Patrick's Day or because you are a Dartmouth student or alum, or both.

Ask for: Vertical File: Dartmouth Green (color); and Realia 179, The Dartmouth College Color

Fit for a Princess

2011-03-11T13:35:00.000-05:00

We have a number of Books of Hours in the collection, but this is one of the smallest, with each of its one hundred and fifty six parchment leaves measuring just over three inches tall and two inches wide. This tiny illuminated manuscript was made for a little girl, probably a young French princess, sometime between 1525 and 1545.

Books of Hours contained a selection of prayers and psalms meant to be read by their owners throughout the day. The text of the prayers in this little volume is relatively large and very legible despite the tiny size of its pages, indicating that its reader, perhaps, was still very young. The amount of decoration in Books of Hours varies greatly; some are very plain while others include multiple full-page illustrations and decorated initials. This Book of Hours contains no portraits or miniatures, but nearly every page is decorated with colored inks and illuminated with gold leaf -- it's a clearly book that was meant to be pretty.

Sometime in the 19th century, this book's owner had it rebound in a beautiful but very tight leather binding. The word "tight" refers to the fact that the parchment leaves are sewn together so closely that it is now impossible to open the pages flat or to see their inside margins (from a blogger's perspective, it also makes this book really difficult to photograph!).

Ask for Manuscript Codex 003197 to see this treasure for yourself.

Posted for Anne Peale '11

Cork: The Other Brown Paper

2011-03-08T17:36:00.001-05:00

One of the most unusual items in Rauner's collections is a lavishly illustrated and illuminated edition of Don Quixote printed on cork. Published in San Feliú de Guixols (a municipality in Catalonia, Spain) in 1955, the edition marks the 350th anniversary of the first printing of Cervantes' classic. According to the dedication, the text is taken from the 1907 edition with illustrations from the 1780 Real Academia Española edition.

This edition is actually one of several printed on cork. The first was published in 1905 - presumably to mark the 300th anniversary of Don Quixote. Other cork editions include a 1906, 1907, 1933, and a recent 2005 version printed in Portugal.

But why cork? Cork is one of Spain's most well known exports and Catalonia is one of the leading areas of production of the material. Don Quixote is the most well known literary work of the country. Perhaps this is an expression of national pride with a twist of commercialism thrown in. Spanish culture and Spanish goods in one luxury package.

Cork box that houses the two volume set.

Ask for Bryant PQ6323 .A1 1955

Bass on Rhus Vernix and Magnolia Glauca

2011-03-04T13:11:00.001-05:00

The College Archives collection of theses from the Dartmouth Medical School covers the years 1815 to 1882. Seth Bass' 1815 A Dissertation on the Poisonous qualities and on the Medical properties of the Rhus Vernix and on the Medical Properties of the Magnolia Glauca, includes this beautiful watercolor sketch of a Magnolia Glauca, along with sketches of other magnolias and of the Rhus Vernix. Unfortunately, most of the theses are far less decorative. They do, however, cover a wide range of medical topics and diseases, from diabetes to animal magnetism, documenting the progress of medical knowledge and practice during most of the 19th century.

Rhus Vernix

We know very little of Dr. Bass’ life and medical career. He was born in Quincy, Massachusetts, in 1780, and received his medical degree from Dartmouth in 1815. In 1824, he was hired by the East India Marine Society in Salem, Massachusetts, to organize and oversee the Society's extensive collection of artifacts. In 1825, he became the librarian of the Boston Athenaeum, a position he held until 1846. Upon his retirement, the trustees of the Athenaeum gave Dr Bass $1,000 as an indication of their esteem and gratitude for over 20 years of service. Ultimately, Dr. Bass removed to Stow, Massachusetts, his eyesight too poor to allow the practice of medicine. He died there in December 1867.

Title page to Bass' thesis.

Ask for DA-3 to see this and other theses. Box 9873 contains Bass' thesis.

Samuel Beckett

2011-03-01T14:15:00.000-05:00

The Samuel Beckett papers were a gift from Lawrence Harvey, a professor at Dartmouth College, who amassed this small but important collection of manuscripts, letters, and photographs over the course of a long friendship with Beckett. Harvey used the material in his own research, culminating in his book Samuel Beckett, Poet and Critic (Princeton, N.J., Princeton University Press, 1970).

The collection includes original, annotated typescripts of many of Beckett's works, including Echo's Bones, Eleutheria, and Dream of Fair to Middling Women - Beckett's first novel published posthumously in 1992. There are also numerous photographs of Beckett and his family, a short film of Actes Sans Paroles, and audio of Beckett reading his own work. Many of the photographs are more intimate images of Beckett and members of his family in ordinary settings. The image above was taken at Ussy in 1952 or 1953 and depicts Beckett (left) and his brother Frank.

Beckett and other members of the Irish Red Cross in St Ló, France.

In 1994, an additional batch of letters and postcards from Beckett to Gloria MacGowran was added to the original collection. Gloria MacGowran was the widow of Jack MacGowran, an actor known for his interpretations of Beckett's works. The correspondence covers the period from 1973 to 1988.

Ask for MS-122 to see Beckett's papers and MS-661 to see Harvey's collection of research materials.

"Opere" del Galileo

2011-02-25T15:18:00.001-05:00

In 1655, 13 years after the death of Galileo Galilei, the first edition of his complete works was issued, Opere di Galileo Galilei (Bologna: H.H. del Dozza, 1655). But there was one very big problem. Galileo's Dialogo, where he so persuasively defended the heliocentric view of the solar system, was still on the index of forbidden books. In order for the Opere to have wide distribution, it could not be included.

While the publisher did not want to push too hard, he did cleverly work the heliocentric view into the work. The frontispiece to the book depicts Galileo in animated conversation with the muses. He gestures to the sky, where you can just make out the planets orbiting the sun. It was a gesture to an unavoidable omission.

Our "Opere" is completed by our first edition of the Dialogo di Galileo Galilei (Fiorenza: Per Gio: Batista Landini, 1632). Come see them both by asking for Rare QB3 G14 1655 and Val 520 G133d.

Augustus Saint-Gaudens

2011-02-22T11:07:00.001-05:00

Augustus Saint-Gaudens, an Irish-born, American sculptor, was arguably the finest American sculptor of his time and a founding member of the Cornish Colony located in Cornish, New Hampshire. The summer retreat for artists included notables such as Maxfield Parrish, Percy MacKaye, and the American author Winston Churchill. Rauner Library holds the papers of Augustus Saint-Gaudens, which include correspondence, photographs, drawings and records of his commissions.

Among Saint-Gaudens's many works are a number of Civil War monuments, including a bronze bas-relief memorializing Robert Gould Shaw and the 54th Massachusetts regiment, the first Union regiment to be made up entirely of African-American soldiers. The monument was unveiled in Boston in 1897 and stands on Beacon Street across form the State House.

Shaw Memorial in Boston

Numismatics was another of Saint-Gaudens's interests and he was chosen by Theodore Roosevelt to design a new twenty-dollar gold piece that is considered one of the most striking examples of American coinage. Included in the collection are numerous design sketches and correspondence with Roosevelt.

Design for the double eagle coin

A guide to the microfilm version of the collection is available online and the papers themselves can be viewed by visiting Rauner and asking for ML-4.

Over the Rainbow in Hanover

2011-02-18T12:37:00.000-05:00

Judy Garland, the iconic singer and entertainer, playing pool in a frat basement at Dartmouth?? Who knew?? Well, the Alpha Theta scrapbook in Rauner Library contains photos and news clippings and a note signed by Miss Garland to the brothers. She came in January of 1967 and spent four days in Hanover, accompanied by Tom Green, class of '60, former president of Alpha Theta and assistant editor of the Daily Dartmouth, who had been working with Miss Garland on her autobiography. Shortly after their visit to Hanover, Miss Garland announced that she was engaged to marry Mr. Green (he would have been husband number five). They planned to marry at Dartmouth and then honeymoon in Europe. The magic that Hanover worked on Miss Garland did not last and the marriage never took place. We would surely love to hear Mr. Green’s description of their visit but alas, he is no longer with us. We must settle for the account found in the Daily Dartmouth (January 11, 1967).

To view the clippings and photos, ask to see the Alpha Theta scrapbook, DO-77, Box 6620.

Emblem Book

2011-02-15T17:06:00.000-05:00

Andrea Alciato (1492-1550), distinguished humanist and legal scholar, launched a new genre, the emblem book, that combined classical epigrammatic poetry forms with themes from the medieval bestiary. Emblem books proliferated throughout western Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries and were didactic, rather than devotional, in nature. Alciato’s Emblematum liber, as it was commonly known, was a best seller in both Reformation and Counter-Reformation countries and remains among the most reprinted books in history. We recently acquired a 1576 edition from Lyon entitled, Diverse imprese accommodate a diverse moralita con versi che i loro significati dichiarano.... Tratte da gli Emblemi dell' Alciato with 180 woodcuts.

“In Adulatores,” or “On Flatterers,” compares the flatterer who “feeds on the wind of popular approval” with the chameleon, who “is always breathing in and out with open mouth the bodiless air on which it feeds” and takes on the appearance and coloration of those around it.

The Grief of Winter Carnival

2011-02-11T08:20:00.000-05:00

The first snow sculpture, 1925

Winter Carnival, the brainchild of Fred Harris, 1911, founder of the Dartmouth College Outing Club, began as a series of sporting events designed to get students outdoors and clear away the winter doldrums. By the 1930s, Carnival had transformed into a series of parties, balls and contests (such as the crowning of the Queen of Snows) that had barely a passing connection to winter sports. Dartmouth men trapped in the woods of New Hampshire had turned it into the best excuse yet to invite women to campus. National Geographic actually dubbed it the “Mardi Gras of the North.”

Waiting for dates to arrive on the Carnival Train

F. Scott Fitzgerald with Walter Wanger, 1915,
at Carnival in 1939

Following each Carnival, the Outing Club ran “Grief Meetings” where they detailed problems and issues in the vain hope of avoiding the same problems the following year. In 1933 they reported 2,848 people in attendance. By 1939, the year Budd Schulberg 1936, and F. Scott Fitzgerald showed up on campus with a film crew to create the movie “Winter Carnival,” the event had grown so big that The Dartmouth reported, “Dartmouth must soon decide whether its largest social event of the year should be curtailed.” This did not come to pass, and Carnival went off again the following year with no apparent changes.

It took the outbreak of the Second World War to bring the tradition to its knees. Even then, it was not dead. Carnival was back and going strong again when the war ended. Now, 100 years after Fred Harris’s first modest ski contest, Carnival still thrives, albeit on a scale more in keeping with what the DOC wanted in 1939.

Winter Carnival Committee members, undated

Christi und Antichristi

2011-02-08T17:29:00.002-05:00

Propaganda played a major role in the spread of the Reformation. While the leaders of the Reformation were members of the clergy, and were used to a formal, scholarly form of communication, to reach the people they resorted to a visual, didactic method. We recently acquired this example of Protestant rage published in Wittenberg in 1521, Passional Christi und Antichristi. Through a series of 26 woodcut illustrations, the life of Christ is juxtaposed with the life of the Pope. The text is in the vernacular German and contrasts excerpts from the Gospels with quotations from canon law. As you might expect, the Pope doesn't fare well in the images.

The most satirical image shows Christ driving the merchants from the Temple next to an image of the Pope counting his money from selling indulgences. But the darkest is the day of judgment: As Christ ascends, the Pope is driven into the fires of hell.

The title page is also telling: there is no author, publisher or place of publication listed. It is believed that Luther himself began selecting the texts continued by Melanchthon assisted by Schwertfeger. But no printer was going to risk church censure by claiming responsibility for such an incendiary book.

Ask for Rare Book NE 1150.5 .C7 P379 1521.

The Christie Warden Murder

2011-02-04T15:23:00.000-05:00

On July 17, 1890, Andrew Warden, a farmer in the Hanover area, took on a hired hand who called himself Frank Almy. Almy was actually a convicted felon named George Abbott who had escaped from prison in Winsdor, VT, three years before. He began courting Christina, known as Christie, one of the Warden's daughters and exchanged several gifts with her.

In April the following spring, Almy was fired by the Wardens due to lack of work to be done on the farm. He left the area for Boston, but returned in June obsessed with the idea of seeing Christie again. He hid himself inside the Warden's barn and made several attempts to see her during the next month. Finally, on July 17, 1891, he encountered Christie, her sister Fanny, her mother, and a friend walking home from a Grange meeting. He pulled Christie from the group at gunpoint and dragged her off the road, where he shot her and then escaped.

After searching for a month, Almy was discovered hiding in the Warden's barn. He was severely wounded and finally captured after a standoff of several hours and then taken to the Hanover Inn, where a crowd of 1500 demanded to see "the monster." The photo above shows Almy lying on a cot during this event. The photograph below is of the crowd outside the barn during his capture.

Almy was convicted of murder and hanged on May 16, 1893.

There are several sources of information about the murder. Ask for the vertical and photo files labeled "Warden, Christie." Newspaper clippings of the events can be found in a scrapbook compiled by Harold Gibson: DC Hist LD 1438.8 .G5 There is also a small collection of manuscript material: MS 761