Deliriously Yours

Happy Valentine's Day!  Here is the date you do NOT want. This is Ann (Washington: U.S. War Department, 1943) was authored by Capt. Munro Leaf and illustrated by Capt. Theodor Seuss Geisel, both serving in the armed forces. Leaf was already gaining fame for his classic children's book Ferdinand, the story of a sweet and peaceful, flower loving bull forced into the bullfighting ring. Geisel, you know. By that time he had published Mulberry Street, but was probably still better known for his Flit insect repellent advertisements.

In a letter to Dartmouth's Harold Rugg from 1943, Geisel writes that "as an old Flit salesman, I find that I am of occasional use in doing semi-educational propaganda against the mosquito." He did the illustrations "between sessions on the rifle range and sessions in the Army motion picture studios" in Hollywood. Told as a mock venereal disease cautionary tale, the story portrays the exploits of the malaria spreading Ann, a loose mosquito who "really gets around."

We have a collection of Geisel's original art (or "alleged art" as he says in the letter to Rugg). You can see the book and the letter by asking for Alumni G277thi. The original art is in MS-1100, Box 9.

Fishing with Hemingway?

Ellis O. Briggs '21 was an American statesman who rose to the highest diplomatic rank possible, that of Career Ambassador. He acted as ambassador to seven countries under the tenure of three US presidents. He began his career in 1925 as vice consul at Lima, Peru, and concluded it as ambassador to Greece in 1962, where his car's license plate reportedly read "EOB 1921." Briggs literally traveled the globe in service to his country, representing the United States in the Dominican Republic, Czechoslovakia, Uruguay, and South Korea, among others. He was known as an efficient and capable administrator who had little patience for "diplomatic bungling and red tape," as one acquaintance put it.

Still, Briggs wasn't just all work and no leisure. He was an avid outdoorsman and former president of the Dartmouth Outing Club who enjoyed hunting excursions in Maine with his honorary classmate, Corey Ford, a pastime that Briggs called "a lunatic diversion not for the uninitiated." However, woodcock were not the only game that Briggs pursued. In 1955, he was appointed ambassador to Peru and soon after met up with Ernest Hemingway, who was staying at the renowned Cabo Blanco Fishing Club during the filming of the motion picture adaptation of The Old Man and the Sea. Hemingway's postcard, complete with a photo on the front of Papa himself alongside a marlin, supplied Briggs with instructions for how to join him out on the water.

It's unknown whether Briggs actually went on a fishing expedition during the visit or if he was simply visiting the movie set. Regardless, the close relationship between him and Hemingway is clear. In a presentation copy of The Old Man and the Sea, Hemingway writes of his "old affection" for Briggs (and his wife Lucy), suggesting that the two may have met much earlier, perhaps in Cuba when Briggs was counselor of the embassy there in the 1930s.

To see our inscribed copy of The Old Man and the Sea, and the enclosed photos of Briggs, Hemingway, and marlin, come in and ask for Rare PS3515 .E37 O52 1952 copy 4.

To learn more about the life of Ellis O. Briggs, Class of 1921, ask for his alumni file.

Winter Carnival Online

Winter Carnival is upon us. Over the years, Dartmouth's "Mardi Gras of the North" has produced some stunning visual images. The annual poster contest has resulted in posters that reflect the history of 20th century graphic design while displaying the ever changing values and interests of Dartmouth students. We recently released a new digital collection of all of the Winter Carnival posters, from the earliest in 1911 to the one currently circulating on campus. They are accompanied by essays from the 2010 Winter Carnival: A Century of Dartmouth Posters (Hanover: University Press of New England, 2010).

Not only can you browse the posters, you can also download a digital image for your personal use. While you are looking for your favorite poster, you can also check out images from Winter Carnivals past in our ever growing digital collection of archival photographs. They are not all scanned yet, but we add to the collection daily--search for Winter Carnival and you will see some of them.

Coded

We were recently reviewing a large number of older books that were originally part of the Thayer School's engineering library. Tucked in among the books with beautiful engraved plates was a small practical treatise Geodaesia: or, the Art of Surveying (New York: Samuel Campbell, 1796). Book is not particularly rare, but the front flyleaf caught our eye. It contains what appears to be 14 lines of verse with coded words inserted.

What might we have found? Forbidden love? No, the key is present--it is just a simple substitution code based on Napoleon Bonaparte. There was no challenge in deciphering the words. Instead, it seems to be a bit of parlor game fun perpetrated by James W. Rollins, class of 1845 who signed the book numerous times. Below is a transcription of the verse with the decoded words bracketed.

My 3.12.6.14.8 [paean] is a martial hymn
My 2.13.12.15.16 [apart] signifies separation
My 13.7.5.17 [pole] is an inhabitant of a country in Europe
My 3.12.1 [pan] is one of the heathen gods
My 9.4.8.17 [bone] is part of the human frame
My 1.10.16.6 [note] My whole is a man of
My 2.11.8.6 [anne] is an English queen
My 3.7.13.6 [pope] is the official name of one formally of great power
My 15.2.16 [rat] is a very mischievous little critter
My 5.17.4 [leo] is the name of a former pope
My 1.14.3.10.5.17.4.11 [napoleon] is a gold coin
My 2.12.15.4.11 [aaron] is a person of note in the Bible
My 9.6.2.15 [bear] is a wild animal
My whole is a man of distinction

Key N/1 a/2 p/3 0/4 l/5 e/6 0/7 n/8 B/9 o/10 n/11 a/12 p/13 a/14 r/15 t/16 e/17

More intriguing is a series of dots on the back flyleaves with a sketch of Napoleon and the same key. This probably required a sheet to be laid over the dots to reveal their secret message.  Based on the Napoleon code, we doubt anything too earth shattering is hidden. Still… one never knows.

To decode it, ask for Rauner Thayer TA544.L89 1796.

Dishcover Minstrel Troupe

Most people forget, or never knew, just how prevalent minstrel shows were in the not-too-distant past.  We have a strong 19th-century theater collection with playbills for black face comic performances as opening acts to "serious" theater. We also have dozens of examples of scripts and sheet music for minstrel shows. More disturbing are programs for local amateur performances.

But even we were surprised to find this one: evidence of a minstrel show performance in the Antarctic on August 6, 1902. This program, printed on Ross Island during Robert Falcon Scott's Discovery Expedition, describes an evening of entertainment put on by members of the crew. The "Dishcover Minstrel Troupe" performed seventeen songs and, according to the South Polar Times (the monthly newspaper produced during the expedition to ward off boredom), was interspersed throughout with minstrel dialect jokes.

These programs always shake you a little, but for some reason it is even more unnerving to see a black face show being performed in the Antarctic. The only representation of humanity on the continent at the time, and they are doing what?

We are still cataloging the program, but you can ask for it at the desk. You can see the report in the South Polar Times, by asking for Stef G850 1901 .D7 Vol 1 (page 23 of the August 1902 issue).

Obey the Summons of the Conch

Several years ago we published a blog entry on the tradition of horning at Dartmouth. In response, one of our readers remarked that students at Dartmouth back in the late eighteenth century were paid to "blow a conch shell to mark the beginning and ending of classes in place of a bell," and suggested that the charges to students' accounts for horning instead might be payments given for their service. That idea piqued our curiosity enough to inspire a deeper exploration of the archives. Here’s what we found.

The first discovery was that we still have the original conch shell from those days and it’s fully functional! The second was that, according to Dartmouth Traditions by William Carroll Hill, 1902, Native American students were assigned the task of sounding the horn three times a day for approximately five minutes to call everyone for twice-daily prayers and 11 am recitations. Anecdotally, every college student at the time was charged thirty-three cents for the service.

With this admittedly shaky evidence in hand, we reviewed the student accounts ledger from the 1770s and found that there were no universal charges of thirty-three cents per student. Instead, there are several charges of varying amounts to select individuals for their "part in blowing the horn." This leads us to believe the original hypothesis about penalties for horning, but it does raise fresh questions about the details of the arrangement with the Native American student population, among others.

Regardless, by William Carroll Hill's time, the sounding of the conch shell had achieved such a reputation among Dartmouth students that a song about it, "The Old Conch Shell," was included in Dartmouth Songs, a collection of college tunes compiled by Edwin Osgood Grover, '94, and musically edited by Addison Fletcher Andrews, '78. All of these materials are available for viewing at Rauner, using the following call numbers:

Conch shell: Uncat Realia 117
Student Accounts Ledger B: DA-2, Box 1746
Dartmouth Traditions: Reference LD1438 .H6
Dartmouth Songs: Alumni G918d

"Stinking" Haggis

Burns night is upon us--when all good Scots toast the great Bard and recite "To a Haggis" before plunging a knife into the "Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!" Among the most recited of Burns's poems, "To a Haggis" did not appear in the the famous Kilmarnock edition of Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (Kilmarnock: John Wilson, 1786). It first appeared in the Caledonian Mercury, but then was collected into the second and third editions of Poems in 1787.

The type for the third edition was completely reset. In the process, a curious typo appeared. In "To a Haggis," the word skinking (meaning watery) was changed to "stinking." Surely not what Burns had in mind, but fitting to those of us less accustomed to the pudding. To quote the glossary to the third edition: Haggis, a kind of pudding boiled in the stomach of a cow or sheep."

To see the famous Kilmarnock edition, ask for Burns PR4300 1786 .K4 Copy 2. For the "stinking" Haggis, ask for Burns PR4300 1787 .E42.