Print or Manuscript?

Quick, what is this? An early example of printing or a late-medieval manuscript?

The answer is a little complicated. The words were printed in 1476 from movable type by Jacobus Rubeus in Venice, that's just seven years after print was introduced to that city. But the printer did not see his role as usurping the whole of book production. In fact, just like the manuscript scribes, he consciously left space for an illuminator to complete his printed page.

We are fortunate to have two copies of this particular printing of Leonardo Bruni's Historia Florentina, one printed on vellum and illuminated, the other printed on paper without the finishing work. Note in the image of non-illuminated copy that a small "m" was placed in the opening as a guide letter for the illuminator.

The two copies point to the gradual transition that took place after the introduction of movable type.  Printers created books that fit with the aesthetic and expectations of their market. Illuminated printed books are common in the incunabula period (from 1455 to 1501), but become very rare in the 16th century when printers relied on woodcut initial letters to complete their texts.

To see them, ask for Incunabula 135 and Lansburgh 36.

Thomas Orde-Lees

Thomas Orde-Lees was the storekeeper on Ernest Shackleton's Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition. His diary is a log of events from March 1915 to April 1916 and was used in part by Shackleton in his book South. The diary includes an account of the loss of the Endurance and the subsequent journey in small, open boats to Elephant Island where Orde-Lees and other members of the expedition waited for Shackleton's return.

The page shown here contains one of many illustrations in the diary. This drawing is from the October 18, 1915 entry: "the ship was heaved up suddenly and violently and immediately rolled over slowly onto her side until she lay on her port side."

Ask for Stefansson Manuscript 185 to see the entire diary, which includes a typewritten addendum detailing some of the conditions on Elephant Island.

Fifty Years and Counting, the Class of 1960

In the fall of 1956 the Class of 1960 matriculated as the largest class in the College’s history to that point. While they participated in all the usual activities (Bonfire, Tug of War, Gauntlet) there were some things that made the experience of the last “50s” class different from that of their predecessors. Some were unremarkable (the Nugget Theater raising its price to 65 cents for a movie) while others changed the face of the College forever (the long threatened, and much anticipated, construction of a performing arts center—the HOP—was finally begun).

During their time in Hanover they also saw a major change in the College’s academic calendar with the institution of a three-term structure. A petition of the students and faculty in their junior year showed that the majority of both bodies were in favor of coeducation. In response the Committee on Educational Policy voted to study the possibility, though it would take another twelve years before that dream would become a reality. Visiting hours for dorms were extended, but this didn’t make up for the lack of women on campus.


While Skiing, Basketball and Football claimed major prizes (NCAA championship for the first and Ivy League championships for the last two) fraternities faced a harsher reality. In response to an Inter Fraternity Council decision in 1954, all fraternities had to remove discriminatory membership clauses by April 1960. Many fraternities chose to break with their national affiliates over this policy, changing the face of the College forever.

Through all this the Class of 1960 persevered, and in June graduated, just as the Class of 2010 will this Sunday.

Curious to know more about the Class of 1960 and their experience of Dartmouth? Come see an exhibit of materials from the Archives on display in Rauner Library, Friday June 11 through Sunday June 13 in Room 109.

What to Wear to Commencement

Reports differ on exactly when Dartmouth students began wearing caps and gowns, but the tradition appears to have been firmly established in 1892 after at least a couple of years of discussion.  According to The Dartmouth of Jan. 5, 1892 (v. 13, no. 8, p. 116):  [The class of] "Ninety-two has voted to wear the cap and gown during commencement week.  This is the customary English academic dress and has been that of the commencement speakers at Harvard.  Recently the dress has been adopted by nearly all of the eastern colleges as the dress of the whole senior class for longer or shorter periods.  These colleges include Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Amherst and Williams.  Some have adopted the dress for the whole year, some for the spring term, but the majority for commencement week alone.  The dress will certainly be comfortable and inexpensive and add dignity to our commencement exercises."

The Dartmouth Ph.D. gown, designed in the early 1960s, is made of a dark green (Dartmouth green) faille with a green pine tree motif embroidered on both sides of the front at lapel level on the black velvet trim.  The three bands on the arms (denoting Ph.D.) are of black velvet, the hood is black with blue velvet trim and dark green lining, and the hat is wide brimmed of black velvet (Beefeater) with a gold tassel.

You can examine the Dartmouth Ph.D. cap and gown by requesting Realia 106.  For more information about the history of academic dress and what all of those colors, hoods, and trimmings mean, see An Academic Costume Code and An Academic Ceremony Guide, from the American Council on Education.

Best wishes to all Dartmouth graduates!

Customs and Occupations of India and Ceylon

In January 1844, the Rev. Daniel Poor, Class of 1811, sent a package to his classmate the Rev. William Cogswell. At that time, Cogswell was a professor of history at Dartmouth and a member of the Northern Academy of Arts and Sciences, an organization established in 1841 to provide an opportunity for Dartmouth students, faculty and local ministers to exchange their "views on great and important subjects."

Rev. Poor spent his life as a missionary and educator, primarily in Ceylon. His package to Rev. Cogswell contained a selection of several items which he felt would be of interest including a grammar of the Tamil language, issues of The Morning Star (a newspaper published by the American Mission Press in Jaffna), a Tamil geography, and a volume of "native paintings." This volume contains over 90 original watercolors and depicts people of various occupations and castes in India and Ceylon.

Poor's gifts were held within the Northern Academy's library which was taken into the general Dartmouth Library collection upon the Academy's dissolution in 1904.

Ask for Rauner Codex 001971 to see the original watercolors.

Ahab's Bible

It is always interesting when a book transforms from a carrier of a text into an object of veneration. Most late-18th-century editions of the English Authorized Bible are not particularly rare, and in many library collections they would not be housed in Special Collections. But, sometimes something happens to a book in its life that brings it new meaning through association and turns it into a coveted, precious object. In this case, our copy of The Holy Bible (Edinburgh, 1795) once belonged to Valentine Pease, the captain of the whaling ship "Acushnet." Even with that information, this still might be meaningless, but devotees to Herman Melville know that is the ship Melville served on, and that makes this "Captain Ahab's bible."

I was once showing a book like this to a group of students, and one perceptive member of the class commented that the book had become "encrusted with culture." I have hung onto that phrase because it so beautifully captures the concept: the book is just an old book, but its cultural associations have given it new weight and meaning. That disappears as soon as the association is broken.

Come and take a look (and see if you can still smell the sea spray) by asking for Rauner Melville BS185 1795 .E42.

To Those Who Served…

At the bottom of the Baker Library west stairwell, down in the basement, behind a propped open door, is a memorial that often goes unnoticed. It commemorates the service of Howard “Rainy” Burchard Lines, 1912.

After graduating from Dartmouth, Lines went on to attend Harvard Law School. When the First World War broke out it was all his friends and family could do to persuade him to finish his studies. Upon graduating from Harvard, he joined the American Ambulance Field Service (a medical service run by American volunteers) in France. From September to December 1915 he drove a Model T Ford Ambulance ferrying wounded French Soldiers from the front to a field hospital.

Lines Memorial in Baker Library

In the spring of 1916 Lines was taken ill with appendicitis and was operated on a second time for an abdominal injury received from lifting wounded soldiers. He returned to service in September of 1916. In November he wrote to his friend and classmate Conrad Snow, 1912, still at Harvard, “I left Paris the middle of September at the helm of a three ton White truck with a trailer consisting of a completely equipped field kitchen. Toured France more or less thoroughly and managed to keep from sideswiping anything although the trailer had several narrow shaves.” He went on to describe his billets:

We are right on the edge of some wooded foothills and work two posts. The rest of the time there is some evacuation work but on the whole about a quarter of the cars can handle a day’s work. Our living quarters while by no means luxurious, are quite comfortable and a little ingenuity has done a lot towards covering up the worst and making the best out of the rest. I wish you could drop in and see us for our comfort goes the whole length and we have tea in the afternoon!

Lines post to Snow, December 22, 1916	Lines post to Snow with postcard packet from which it was removed

Soon after writing this letter Lines came down with a cold that developed into pneumonia. On December 22nd he wrote to Snow again, asking him to raise money for a hospital bed.

Dear Snowball,

Many thanks for the poster you sent; even tho’ your name was not on it the family decided it was from you. I have a pleasant little amusement for you to while away the long winter days. They are getting us a college ward in the Ambulance and we should like awfully to have a Dartmouth bed. Do you think you could collect 600 Dollars to support a bed (with a patient in it) for 1 fl. year It would then have a neat brass plate affixed to the wall behind it proclaiming Dartmouth to the world. I am so glad you are for preparedness. Merry Christmas and a happy New Year, Rainy C. Lines.

Lines posted the card, but died the next day. Snow followed Lines’s last wish and solicited his class. He had no trouble raising the $600 in memory of his friend and classmate. The French Government awarded Lines the Croix de Guerre posthumously in honor of his service.

The Dartmouth hospital bed (left) donated in Lines memory and one (right) donated by Lines parents

So the next time you’re in Baker Library, take a minute visit the basement and honor the memory of Howard Lines, one of the many Dartmouth Alumni who gave their lives in the service of their country, or come to Rauner and see Lines’s letters to Snow and other records related to his service.

• The Conrad E. Snow papers, MS-942
• Material relating to the American Ambulance Field Service in World War I, 1914?-1922, n.p., MS-452

Other collections documenting Dartmouth alumni who served in the American Ambulance corps:

• The papers of George French Ingalls, MS-574
• The papers of George Dock, Jr., MS-1057
• Photograph albums of the Dartmouth ambulance unit in World War I, 1917-1919, Rauner DC History D629.U8 F87
• The Letters of an Ambulance Driver, by Edward Chase Kirkland Rauner Alumni K635l