Not to be removed from the Reading Room

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

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

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

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

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.

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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

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

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