A Dissertation Concerning Vampires

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.