Petitioning to Dance

Eleazar Wheelock’s vast collection in the Rauner Library contains everything from his early sermons to personal letters and bills, but also includes much of the College’s early history. The charter may be the most emblematic symbol of the College that is represented, but other documents also reveal the early character of the students.

A petition from November 1772 on behalf of the Sophomore and Freshmen classes was submitted to Wheelock by James Hutchinson, Samuel Stebbins, and John Ledyard (yes, that Ledyard ). After a lengthy opening paragraph to butter the president up, the boys requested to be allowed “to spend certain Leisure hours allotted us for the relaxation of our mind--in such sort as, stepping the Minuet & Learning To use the sword.”

This petition is particularly interesting in the context of Moving Dartmouth Forward. One of the more controversial policies of President Hanlon’s plan is the increase in academic rigor, with many students protesting that this institution is rigorous enough. These protests predate the speech, however, by nearly 250 years. Apparently it has been a part of Dartmouth’s character, since its founding, for students to find the college too demanding. Perhaps the students now don’t feel the need to duel and learn to dance, or even call Hanlon “our Patron and our Guide,” but their protests certainly are reminiscent of this petition.

Ask about the document at MS-1310, Folder 772640.

Posted for Maggie Baird '18

By Jupiter!

Some years ago while making clamshell boxes for the Library, I came upon this logbook of the H.M.S. Jupiter, which is one of my favorite items in our collection. Admittedly I have interest in weather and transportation, and these topics intersect in the weather entries found in ships’ logs. But this logbook drew my attention as a physical object. So many of the marks of its history are upon it and not just on the pages. The layers of dirt, oil, and ink spills all contribute to the patina of the warm, natural, earthy tones of the cloth cover, leaving clues to the book’s past life.

It’s surprisingly light and feels good in the hand, despite its larger size. At first glance it appears to have cloth-covered boards, but the fabric is actually sewn over the boards as a protective jacket, which acts much like a modern dust jacket. Though it’s not waterproof this added protection reinforces the notion that this logbook was an important item aboard ship. This home- (or ship-) made imaginative reuse of materials to protect the book highlights the ingenuity of the maker of this jacket. As a book conservator I welcome such historical evidence of protection and repair.

Closer inspection reveals a number of other things about this protective cover, but most of them bring more questions. There is an even sewing pattern where the folded cloth attaches at the fore edge, and it is particularly well executed on the back cover. Whoever sewed this certainly had some knowledge in working with cloth and cord. Was it a sailmaker on board ship? Did most sailors have real skill with a needle? And there is writing on the cloth that looks like it was there prior to its current use, including some numbers and a notation, “I promise to pay… the sum of 20,000…” What is this about? Was the cloth a piece of sailcloth at hand when paper was not? Or was it a grain sack on board for a long journey at sea?

Why do I like this book so much? Perhaps it’s the admiration for the man with the needle, combined with my own imaginings about past voyages, adventure, and the unknown. Come see the book yourself. It is on display with some other Rauner books in conjunction with the Geographies: New England Book Work exhibition in Berry Library’s Main Street exhibition cases through mid-August. After that, you can find it by asking for Codex MS 807107.

Posted for Stephanie Wolff, Preservation Services

A Haggadah for Seder

We recently purchased a rather extraordinary Haggadah printed in Pisa in 1806. It is interesting to think of the original audience for this particular book: a group of Tuscan diaspora Jews in the early 19th century. What was the Seder like where this Haggadah was first present?

What makes this edition so exciting are the eighty woodcut illustrations that take the reader through all phases of Passover.

It starts with the preparation of the household with woodcuts showing a woman readying her home for Passover followed by the Seder itself.

Then, the Haggadah presents the annual retelling of the liberation of the Jews from Egypt. It is a beautifully illustrated epic.

To see the book, ask for Rare BM675.P4A3 1806.

Along the Connecticut

Setting out on the journey

We have so many things that are really cool, but that we know almost nothing about. Take this one for example, Along the Connecticut 1912.  It is a photo album of scenes from the Upper Valley and around Dartmouth campus. The only information we have is the title on the spine with the year and a stamp indicating that it was bound by Alex. Moore, Binder, 11 Hamilton Pl. Boston. Who assembled this?  Who hand tinted most of the photographs?  Who paid to have such a luxurious binding, complete with glassine interleaving for each image? There is no gift plate, and no indication that it was done at Dartmouth.  The only thing we know is that the person who did it loved the area and had money to make it look great.

Our own Webster Hall

The somber, romantic end

As the ice breaks up on the river, come in and enjoy some beautiful summer views "Along the Connecticut" by asking for DC History F12.C7 A46.

Pogo Goes to Dartmouth

A few weeks ago a researcher was in trying to track down an article from Look Magazine about Dartmouth. He knew it was by John Lardner (son of Ring Lardner, Jr.) and an approximate date, but not much more.  We found the article individually cataloged by one of our intrepid archivists of yore. The real thrill was the illustrations by Walt Kelly featuring his legendary character, Pogo.

The article, "The Young Stay Young at Dartmouth," appeared in the June 2, 1953, issue and was unexpectedly timely. As Dartmouth moves to ban hard alcohol from campus, we read that:

The fact is, though, that no one gets very shaky at Dartmouth, on drink. In and out of the fraternities, it is a beer school, not a hard liquor school. To get hard liquor in bottles--New Hampshire being a non-package state--you have to go three miles down the pike and across the Connecticut River into White River Junction, Vt. Few Dartmouth men have the ready cash or the inclination to make this run often, for that purpose.

 To see the article and all of Walt Kelly's illustrations, ask for DC History LD1441.L373.

A Girl's Best Friend

We recently received a set of jewelry design drawings by Donald Claflin. Claflin, after whom the jewelry design studio in the Hopkins Center is named, was a designer at Tiffany & Co. from 1965 to 1977. During that time, he became known for his artistry and use of such unusual materials as leather and ivory in combination with the finest gemstones. His designs were both intricate and bold and quite expensive to produce. However, his tenure at Tiffany's coincided with the reestablishment of Tiffany's standard of quality under its new CEO, Walter Hoving.

Founded in 1837 by Charles Lewis Tiffany and John F. Young, Tiffany's beginnings were humble. The store sold stationery and a variety of fancy goods, including costume jewelry. In 1841, Tiffany's began selling real jewelry, adding silverware to their inventory in 1847. By that time, Tiffany and Young had distinguished themselves from other stores by clearly displaying prices for their items, thereby avoiding the practice of haggling, and accepting only cash for their wares. During the Civil War, Tiffany's became an emporium for military supplies. After the war, they returned to their staples of jewelry and silverware, as well as other higher profile items. From the 1860s to 1929, Tiffany's sales grew exponentially. They opened a store in London and Paris and a factory in New Jersey. However, after the financial crash of 1929, the company's profits sank. There was a brief resurgence during World War II, when the factory in New Jersey supplied military products, but by 1955, the real estate under the company's flagship New York building was more valuable than the company itself.

Claflin, along with top designers Jean Schlumberger and Thomas Hoving, whose stained glass lamps have become synonymous with the Tiffany name, were given almost free reign under Hoving. Among Claflin's most memorable designs, were the whimsical pieces he created based on children's stories, including Alice in Wonderland and Stuart Little, as well as less extravagant pieces, including the popular criss-cross ring. He was also the first designer to use and create an entire collection out of the rare blue gemstone Tanzanite. Claflin left Tiffany's in 1977 and was hired by Bulgari where his designs became sleeker and more abstract.

Claflin's designs were little pieces of art, expressions of his individuality as an artist. He felt that there was more to jewelry design than just the setting of expensive stones. Claflin was not unique in that thought, and he was certainly not the first jewelry designer to think so. More than one hundred years before Claflin another jewelry designer got his start at Tiffany's. Herman Marcus had emigrated from Dresden, Germany, in 1849, and started to work for the company in 1850. He struck out on his own in 1864, when he opened a store with Theodore B. Starr. Starr and Marcus dissolved in 1877, and Marcus returned to Tiffany's where he stayed until 1884. Giving entrepreneurship another try, Marcus opened Jaques & Marcus with George Jaques that same year. After Jaques retired in 1892, the company became Marcus & Co. Marcus and his family loved and lived for jewels, spending a lot of their time traveling to the far corners of the earth for gemstones. They were particularly interested in neglected gems such as zircons, chrysoberyls, tourmalines, opals, garnets, beryls, spinels, and peridots. Like Tiffany's, Marcus' clientele were the wealthy for whom he designed individual pieces that were never reproduced. The style of designs ranged from intricate filigree punctuated designs that used many colored gemstones, diamonds and pearls during the Edwardian period (1900-1910), to French Art Nouveau, Egyptian and Renaissance revival influenced designs in the 1920s and 30s. In 1899, the company had added a silversmithing department, as well as an appraisal service and began to buy old jewelry for cash. They also offered their premises for jewelry storage during the summers when the wealthy left the City. In 1941, the company was sold to Gimbel Brother's department store, and in 1963 merged with Black, Star & Frost.

To see scrapbooks of Jaques & Marcus designs, created at the time of their manufacture ask for
MS-674. To see the more than 300 drawings by Donald Claflin ask for MS
-1327.

Artist's Book?

We love a good artist's book--something with some depth that gives the "reader" an opportunity to play while it calls into question the nature of the book. Most of the ones we acquire are created for that purpose, but occasionally history throws up something that we would now see as an artist's book.  Case in point: Excursion Views of Narragansett Bay and Block Island (Providence: Excursion View Co., 1878).

Housed in a walnut and glass case, Views offers two mechanical moving scrolls that take you on a panoramic yacht tour from Providence, Rhode Island, around Block Island and back. The hand cranks carry you past Newport, Bristol, shoreline hotels and scenic lighthouses--all in chomolithographic splendor. Views performs its real magic, though, when it is set next to books like the English Pilot (we will blog that some day...), a tourist guide, or a Victorian novel...

To launch the excursion yourself, come to Rauner and ask for Realia 542.